A distant rumble. A cloud of dust. The small open-top car flew over
the sand like a scared rabbit running for its life. Anyone observing would
think the driver had their brain fried by one of the three suns...or
perhaps all three.
Meryl's face was spread into a wide grin. She leaned forward a bit, her foot pressing down harder on the accelerator, making the car jounce and bob over another rift in the ground. She laughed. Not a small, timid chuckle. She threw her head back and howled.
Hearing a soft squeak, Meryl cautiously slid a glance to the passenger seat of the car. Her grin widened as she noticed hands clenched tightly upon the seat. Blonde hair blew about violently, mixing with the sand kicked up from the car.
She focused once more on the terrain in front of her. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, before jerking it hard to the left. Tires squealing, the car wheeled to the left, coming dangerously close to flipping over and rolling across the sand. Her passenger cried out in alarm.
"You're such a baby" Meryl said lightly, too enthralled in her driving to be angry.
"I'm not used to being thrown about like a kick ball" The man replied, staring her down with his blue eyes. It was clear that he was not amused by all this, and Meryl suddenly realized that she was turning an otherwise pleasant date around for the man next to her. With a soft sigh, she let up on the gas pedal, slowing the car down until it was going at an acceptable rate.
Silence reigned where the roar of the car's engine had once been. She cleared her throat. Then she cleared it again. And again. After the third time, she realized that she must sound like she were choking up her own lungs, so she tried at conversation.
"In the town I grew up in, they used to race cars. They were always beat up. The cars they used were beat up, I mean. And...I used to go out there and watch them. My mother never liked it, so I had to sneak out. I secretly longed to be one of the ones racing. Of course, my parents wouldn't have it. So, whenever I got to drive our car, I would practice at driving like a racer. I liked to pretend I was back at the broken-down track"
There was a chuckle from the seat next to her. She looked over at him, slowing down until the car was at a stand still. She then turned the car off, and folded her hands into her lap.
This had been the first date she had been on since...well, since her first days at the Bernardelli insurance agency. A fellow coworker had asked her, and she had gone. She couldn't say she had gone because she liked him, more because she wanted to stomp the rumors that had circulated about her. She hadn't enjoyed it much, either. He had tried to grope her, and had earned himself a whomp on the head that left a nice-sized bump on the top of his head. Of course, the next day he had turned it around, saying she had just attacked him. The rumors had gotten worse after that. Fortunately, she started being sent on all the odd-ball jobs, and she didn't have to deal with the office people anymore. That was part of the reason she had accepted all of the field jobs in the first place. She couldn't take the office drama.
Back in reality, Meryl felt a cool hand slide over hers, squeeze posessively. She put on her best smile, and faced the man next to her.
He was looking elsewhere, however, attempting to brush some of the grains of sand from his limp hair with his free hand.
Meryl cleared her throat. He looked up, and smiled at her.
"Thank you for going out with me, Meryl. I've had a really great time".
"Think nothing of it, Marx, I was glad to get out again."
He was giving her that "I'm going to kiss you" look, and it made her insides twist. But she didn't move, she just let it happen. His lips were soft, cool. They felt nice on hers. Not spectacular, or repulsive, just nice. She kissed him back, and for a moment they just sat like that. It was pleasant. Once it was over she smiled, turned the car back on, and drove him home.
"When can I see you again?" Marx asked as he hopped from the passenger side.
She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "How's...next Thursday?"
"Sounds good. Pick me up around seven."
With that, he turned and headed toward his apartment building. Meryl watched him blankly for a moment, before driving herself home to the small, two bedroom apartment that she shared with her best friend.
"Have fun on your date?" The ever-cheerful Millie asked upon Meryl's arrival home.
"It was alright" Meryl replied, sinking into a wooden chair at the cramped kitchen's table.
Millie smiled, placing a steaming cup of tea before Meryl and sitting down across from her, knowing full well that Meryl would spill every detail about her evening.
*************
Later that evening, Meryl sat awake, staring out her window. Her mind briefly flicked over the events of the evening. Nothing too exciting, she decided, and put it away from her mind.
It had been two years since Millie and Meryl had sold their little house. Two years since they had packed everything up and left, trying their hardest not to look back. Though neither of them spoke of Vash the Stampede, or Nicholas D. Wolfwood since they left, they both knew that the lost objects of their affection would be everpresent in their minds.
For months, Meryl had stayed awake, just as she was now, and stared out the window, mentally willing some ghostly visage to appear in the street, to take form into the man she loved, and that was now somewhere so far out of her grip. When she heard, nor saw anything for so long, she had given up hope. He probably hadn't cared about her whereabouts, had felt no need to come back to her. She clung to that possibility avidly, not wanting to think that maybe....maybe, he just hadn't survived.
Now she was conflicted. She had once upon a time had the thought flit through her head that she would wait for Vash forever. Whatever it took, she wouldn't give up on him. She realized now that it was only a school girl fancy. That she would be unable to wait for someone who obviously had no intention of giving her the time of day, much less the rest of his life. However long that might be...
Meryl shook her head, as if doing so could clear her head. She didn't want to think about Vash, however impossible a task that might be. She was probably delving too deep into the situation anyway. He was just a wandering gunman, and she was a career woman with recurring thoughts of settling down with a loving husband.
However, if Vash were the one that she was settling down with, she wouldn't complain....
Sighing, Meryl turned and clicked off the lamp next to her, preparing for sleep that she knew would take hours to come.
Meryl's face was spread into a wide grin. She leaned forward a bit, her foot pressing down harder on the accelerator, making the car jounce and bob over another rift in the ground. She laughed. Not a small, timid chuckle. She threw her head back and howled.
Hearing a soft squeak, Meryl cautiously slid a glance to the passenger seat of the car. Her grin widened as she noticed hands clenched tightly upon the seat. Blonde hair blew about violently, mixing with the sand kicked up from the car.
She focused once more on the terrain in front of her. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, before jerking it hard to the left. Tires squealing, the car wheeled to the left, coming dangerously close to flipping over and rolling across the sand. Her passenger cried out in alarm.
"You're such a baby" Meryl said lightly, too enthralled in her driving to be angry.
"I'm not used to being thrown about like a kick ball" The man replied, staring her down with his blue eyes. It was clear that he was not amused by all this, and Meryl suddenly realized that she was turning an otherwise pleasant date around for the man next to her. With a soft sigh, she let up on the gas pedal, slowing the car down until it was going at an acceptable rate.
Silence reigned where the roar of the car's engine had once been. She cleared her throat. Then she cleared it again. And again. After the third time, she realized that she must sound like she were choking up her own lungs, so she tried at conversation.
"In the town I grew up in, they used to race cars. They were always beat up. The cars they used were beat up, I mean. And...I used to go out there and watch them. My mother never liked it, so I had to sneak out. I secretly longed to be one of the ones racing. Of course, my parents wouldn't have it. So, whenever I got to drive our car, I would practice at driving like a racer. I liked to pretend I was back at the broken-down track"
There was a chuckle from the seat next to her. She looked over at him, slowing down until the car was at a stand still. She then turned the car off, and folded her hands into her lap.
This had been the first date she had been on since...well, since her first days at the Bernardelli insurance agency. A fellow coworker had asked her, and she had gone. She couldn't say she had gone because she liked him, more because she wanted to stomp the rumors that had circulated about her. She hadn't enjoyed it much, either. He had tried to grope her, and had earned himself a whomp on the head that left a nice-sized bump on the top of his head. Of course, the next day he had turned it around, saying she had just attacked him. The rumors had gotten worse after that. Fortunately, she started being sent on all the odd-ball jobs, and she didn't have to deal with the office people anymore. That was part of the reason she had accepted all of the field jobs in the first place. She couldn't take the office drama.
Back in reality, Meryl felt a cool hand slide over hers, squeeze posessively. She put on her best smile, and faced the man next to her.
He was looking elsewhere, however, attempting to brush some of the grains of sand from his limp hair with his free hand.
Meryl cleared her throat. He looked up, and smiled at her.
"Thank you for going out with me, Meryl. I've had a really great time".
"Think nothing of it, Marx, I was glad to get out again."
He was giving her that "I'm going to kiss you" look, and it made her insides twist. But she didn't move, she just let it happen. His lips were soft, cool. They felt nice on hers. Not spectacular, or repulsive, just nice. She kissed him back, and for a moment they just sat like that. It was pleasant. Once it was over she smiled, turned the car back on, and drove him home.
"When can I see you again?" Marx asked as he hopped from the passenger side.
She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "How's...next Thursday?"
"Sounds good. Pick me up around seven."
With that, he turned and headed toward his apartment building. Meryl watched him blankly for a moment, before driving herself home to the small, two bedroom apartment that she shared with her best friend.
"Have fun on your date?" The ever-cheerful Millie asked upon Meryl's arrival home.
"It was alright" Meryl replied, sinking into a wooden chair at the cramped kitchen's table.
Millie smiled, placing a steaming cup of tea before Meryl and sitting down across from her, knowing full well that Meryl would spill every detail about her evening.
*************
Later that evening, Meryl sat awake, staring out her window. Her mind briefly flicked over the events of the evening. Nothing too exciting, she decided, and put it away from her mind.
It had been two years since Millie and Meryl had sold their little house. Two years since they had packed everything up and left, trying their hardest not to look back. Though neither of them spoke of Vash the Stampede, or Nicholas D. Wolfwood since they left, they both knew that the lost objects of their affection would be everpresent in their minds.
For months, Meryl had stayed awake, just as she was now, and stared out the window, mentally willing some ghostly visage to appear in the street, to take form into the man she loved, and that was now somewhere so far out of her grip. When she heard, nor saw anything for so long, she had given up hope. He probably hadn't cared about her whereabouts, had felt no need to come back to her. She clung to that possibility avidly, not wanting to think that maybe....maybe, he just hadn't survived.
Now she was conflicted. She had once upon a time had the thought flit through her head that she would wait for Vash forever. Whatever it took, she wouldn't give up on him. She realized now that it was only a school girl fancy. That she would be unable to wait for someone who obviously had no intention of giving her the time of day, much less the rest of his life. However long that might be...
Meryl shook her head, as if doing so could clear her head. She didn't want to think about Vash, however impossible a task that might be. She was probably delving too deep into the situation anyway. He was just a wandering gunman, and she was a career woman with recurring thoughts of settling down with a loving husband.
However, if Vash were the one that she was settling down with, she wouldn't complain....
Sighing, Meryl turned and clicked off the lamp next to her, preparing for sleep that she knew would take hours to come.