It's the happy moments in life, interwoven into the pain, that make
everything worthwhile. In the meantime, though, I still don't own Trigun.
-*-*-*-*
A gentle breeze called to Meryl through the wispy blankets of her unconsciousness. She sighed softly, a contented noise, and snuggled deeper into the warmth she had found. Or, rather, had found her.
The breeze blew Meryl's bangs across her nose, tickling it ever so gently. It brought her further toward the land of the awake, but Meryl didn't want to wake up yet. It was so much nicer in the land of dreams.
Life had a different schedule, however. A loud bang made Meryl's eyes fly open with sudden, unexpected consciousness. The light flowing into the room was all too bright for her tastes, however, and she snapped them back shut in less than a split second. A groan escaped her lips.
Logic returned. She began to wonder just where exactly she was. From the sliver of glimpse that she had gotten of the room, she could tell that this was not one of the rooms in the ranch house. Or at least not any of the rooms she had seen. It was bigger. Cracking one eye, she allowed it to adjust to the bright noonday light, and then opened it further. She repeated the process with the other eye.
She was lying on her back. From the lowered point of view, all she could really see was the basic layout of the room. It was a standard hotel room size. It had a closet, bed (obviously), table, and a small kitchen. There was a chair right next to her bed.
Slowly she began to sit up. She sank back now quickly, though, as pain rushed through her. She suddenly remembered her shoulder wound. The wound, she noticed, was now carefully bandaged. This made her realize something else: her red shirt was missing. A shirt in general was missing. All she had on was her.well, her unmentionable.
A blush crept into her cheeks and blazed there at the realization that whoever had cared for her wound had also stripped her of her shirt. Still, it was obviously just to better care for her wound.
The door to the room opened. Meryl gasped, grasping blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to her chin, held there by a white-knuckled grasp on it that involved both hands.
What surprised her even more was who strode into her room.
First she noticed the all too familiar red coat. Then the hair: the stick straight, painfully upright blonde hair. Meryl was sure her eyes couldn't get any bigger.
Vash seemed startled to see a pair of violet gray eyes staring at him, as if they were seeing a ghostly visage. Silence hung in the air, choking them both of words. Vash had planned what he was going to say to her a million times, and yet the sight of her like that tossed all his planned out explanations out the window.
"Oh hey! You're awake!" Vash said stupidly, suddenly remembering the brown paper sack clutched carefully in his strong arms. "I was wondering how long you were going to be out. You must be hungry. I'm not much of a cook, but I can make a mean soup!"
Meryl hadn't said anything. She was afraid to. Afraid that if she opened her mouth she would scream, or worse: that it would make this whole scene real.
"How do you feel, Meryl?" Vash asked softly, shame showing clearly in his eyes.
Meryl couldn't take it. It was all too much. Tears, unbidden, came to her eyes, overflowed down her cheeks like an unchecked river. A small sob escaped her lips, followed by another, and another.
Vash moved over to her, concern now mixing with his shame. Without conscious thought, he reached out, took her into his arms, enfolding her in the safe circle of them. He was careful of her injury. She continued to sob. She even leaned into him slightly, which warmed him all over. His arms tightened around her. Her hands dropped the blanket, lashing out to wrap around him, pulling her to him as if he would disappear if she didn't. His hands moved up and down her back slowly in a comforting gesture. His good hand could feel the softness of her skin quite clearly. It rang out to his senses, in fact. But he pointedly ignored that.
Slowly, Meryl regained her composure. She also became conscious of her lack of shirt, and she pulled away from him quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through her shoulder because of it. She still reached for the blanket and pulled it up to where her undergarment wasn't exposed, however.
"Vash.what are you doing here?" Meryl asked quietly, her voice still shaking with the force of her tears. Her eyes met his, the pain in them striking Vash like a dagger to the heart.
"Why, I came to rescue you!" He said, trying to sound cheerful. He stood, made his way back to the little stove to begin working on the soup.
"You really do need to eat something"
The sound of pots and pans banging around as Vash dug for a suitable soup container rang in Meryl's ears. This whole situation seemed to be a dream: a dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Still, there were so many things she needed to know.
"Why?"
"Why do you need to eat? Because you've been out for two days. And besides, you need food to stay health-"
"Why did you rescue me?"
"Well."
"Why did you decide to make an appearance after two years? Did you suddenly start to care again? Or did you get bored in your wanderings?"
"Oh, Meryl."
Vash moved over to the bed again. She scooted away, anger and hurt showing as clearly in her eyes as it would've been on a movie screen.
"I.I don't suppose you'd accept an apology-"
She snorted.
"--When I came back, I couldn't risk putting you and Millie in danger. I had to care for Knives. I didn't know what he would do when he woke up. I couldn't lose you, or Millie."
"That seems to be your excuse for everything, Vash. You can't stay because it's 'dangerous'. I think that you just.just."
How many times had she wanted to tell him off? She had planned it all out nicely in her head. She would run into him in some dusty little town, and give him a piece of her mind. But now, sitting here, with those patient aqua eyes staring at her with apology written all over them, she just couldn't tear into him like she had wanted to.
Vash sighed, turning his back on her and moving to check on the soup.
"I knew you'd be angry. I tried to write, you know. But as soon as I got a few words into it I'd tear it up in disgust. I had no right to just leave you and Millie. I guess I just kind of assumed you would go back home. That you would live a normal life, without Vash the Stampede around to mess it up"
There was silence. Meryl seemed to be thinking.
"We waited, you know. For months." She paused, thinking, before letting it all out in a rush, "I used to go out and sit on that god forsaken well every morning and stare at the gates, hoping to see a lanky blonde figure approaching them. But there never was. Never. And after a while, my hope began to slip. It took me months to realize that the humanoid typhoon just didn't care enough to come back."
"But. But that wasn't it at all!" Vash cried passionately, causing Meryl to look up at him again. A ladle was in his hand, held upright like a weapon. As if he could use it to slice through the lies she had buried herself under. Meryl looked away quickly, deciding instead to take in the thread of the blanket that covered her.
"I've checked up on you occasionally, you know."
Meryl blinked.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing" Vash was blushing now, the red of his face contrasting sharply with the blonde of his hair.
Meryl stared, trying not to think about how cute he was when he blushed. Then it dawned on her:
"You were the one who left me the present in my hotel room!"
Silence. Vash was blushing all the worse. He resembled a spiky-haired beet now. Turning to face her, albeit shyly, his hand came up to scratch the back of his head.
"Heh.yeah, I guess I was"
Meryl was silent. She felt like her head was going to explode from the overdose of information that she had received, just as it had felt when she was still trapped in Legato's 'fortress'.
A bowl of soup came into her line of vision. She looked up to Vash, who was holding a spoon in the other hand, and grinning like an idiot. His skin was starting to turn back to his original shade.
"To tell you the truth, I was kind of worried."
He handed her the soup, which she dutifully began to sip at. She seemed to realize just how hungry she was, because suddenly she was guzzling it. Vash settled himself down into the chair next to her bed.
"I was worried that when you saw me you were either going to scream at me, or hit me. Actually.considering how silent you've been, I think I would've kind of preferred if you had."
Meryl finished her soup, wiping the excess from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her movements were slow. She seemed to be searching for the right words to say. Vash wished she would just say something; anything, really. He had anticipated the angry, violent Meryl; he hadn't anticipated this Meryl. She looked so worn from the last time he had seen her. The light in her eyes seemed to have receded a bit, leaving the gray a bit more dominant. Vash knew she was hurt. He also knew that he was partially responsible for the pain. Oh, but how he wanted to just reach out, hold her, protect her.
"Ghosts." Meryl whispered.
"What?"
"I feel like.an old part of my life has come back to life. But, at the same time, it's still a ghost to me. I worked so hard to bury you. I didn't want to think about you, because it just hurt. I had kind of known that you wouldn't come back, anyway. I'm just the boring, moody insurance girl. I'm nothing in comparison to the humanoid typhoon. What did I have that would make you want to come back? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
There were the tears again. Every droplet from her eyes seemed like a droplet of his blood, hurting him in places unseen to the eye, but detectable by the heart.
"Meryl."
"No. Don't apologize. You don't have to. I was the one stupid enough to have hope that you would come back" She swiped angrily at the tears still flowing down her cheeks. "You didn't need to come back, anyway."
The tone in her voice told him different.
"But I wanted to come back, Meryl" Vash thought. "Because I..I."
Meryl squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the sight of him. Just seeing him hurt. "I'm fine now, actually. It seems my wound is healing nicely. I don't really.don't really think I need your help anymore"
Vash stared at her. It was a dismissal, if he had ever heard one. But underneath that calm exterior Vash could hear the roar of the storm. She was hurting like crazy. The wounds to her heart were still bleeding, and Vash had every intention of healing them too. He wouldn't leave, not this time.
Daringly, Vash reached out again to enfold her to him. He winced at how quickly she stiffened, but didn't let go.
"No"
"What do you mean no?"
"As in: no, Meryl, I'm not going anywhere."
"Vash." Meryl squeaked. She could feel her defenses falling, and it scared her that he could get past them so quickly "Please, don't do this"
In response, he only held her tighter. It was the only thing he could do. He couldn't speak right now. He wanted badly to tell her how much she meant to him, how haunted he was when she was gone. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened, and about how he had thought of her everyday for the past two years. But he couldn't. Not yet. He wasn't even sure she felt the same way. It was too fragile, too early. Like glass, he was afraid it would break. So he contented himself to holding her, feeling her heartbeat, inhaling the soft scent of her. He was overjoyed simply to be in her presence, so he enjoyed it to the fullest.
Meryl realized that her attempts at resistance were futile. He took up every one of her senses. Slowly, she relaxed against him, even went so far as to rest her head against his shoulder.
Her heart was beating ridiculously fast. She tried to will it to stop. It wouldn't listen, of course. Vash the Stampede, the man who had held her heart for years, was actually hugging her! Of course, it had to be just a friend thing. There was no way that Vash actually felt the same way about her. Meryl wouldn't let herself believe it. She couldn't. She would just be letting herself get all riled up for a huge let down. Instead, she resolved herself to simply enjoy the moment for what it was: a friend's attempt at comfort.
Vash smiled into her hair when he felt her relax. Good. At least she wasn't getting ready to claw his eyes out. Simply holding her in his arms was amazing. He could feel his heart swell. How long had he imagined a moment like this? He had not felt love this strong since Rem. And with Rem, it had been different. Rem was his idol. She was a mother figure to him. With Meryl it was entirely different. He felt the need to be beside her always. To protect her when she needed it, laugh with her when she didn't.
"So this is what all those poems meant" He whispered.
"Hmm?" Meryl responded.
"What? Oh, nothing. Just getting lost in thought."
"Mmm."
Meryl felt all too comfortable. It felt too natural, being in his arms. She was letting herself enjoy it. What happened when he left again? She was back to scare one. Nursing the wounds of his rejection and sobbing when no one was around. She would be alone again: totally, cruelly alone. It scared her. Still, it was so nice right now. Maybe she could just let herself enjoy it. She snuggled into him. She was still weary, and reclining like this was making her drowsy.
Continuing to smile, Vash tenderly wrapped the blanket about Meryl's shoulder, conscious of her need for modesty. He had been blushing to the roots of his hair when he had to remove her shirt, but it needed to be done. He had tenderly, and very gently cleaned the wound. The bullet had gone clean through, which was a relief. Still, patching up the object of his affection had proven a lot harder than healing a fellow gunman. Lucky for Vash he knew a few tricks of the trade. He had to, really, considering the path that he had chosen. Err.the path that had chosen him, really. After he had insured that the wound wasn't infected or in any immediate danger of harming Meryl's well being, he had tried his best to wash the shirt free of the blood. He would leave Meryl to sew up the bullet hole in it, though, because when it came to sewing the needle wound up in his skin more often than in the cloth.
The content sigh that escaped Meryl undid Vash. Suddenly he felt empowered. It was as if the entire world had been lifted from his shoulders by a little mayfly named love. He felt so silly, but so alive. And brave. Suddenly, he felt very brave.
"Meryl.I love you" Vash stated boldly.
There was silence. It quickly unraveled Vash's feelings of adequacy.
"Um, Meryl?"
Leaning forward, Vash stared down at Meryl. Her breathing was even, her face showing a considerably less amount of stress. Very quickly, Vash realized something. His wooing had been ineffective, not because Meryl hadn't been pleasantly surprised. Instead, she had fallen fast asleep.
-*-*-*-*
Mwahaha! Fluff! FLUFF! Lots and lots of fluff! Don't act like you don't like it. If you could though, I would appreciate some reviews on how you thought this scene turned out. Please? I'll give you an ice cream bar!
-*-*-*-*
A gentle breeze called to Meryl through the wispy blankets of her unconsciousness. She sighed softly, a contented noise, and snuggled deeper into the warmth she had found. Or, rather, had found her.
The breeze blew Meryl's bangs across her nose, tickling it ever so gently. It brought her further toward the land of the awake, but Meryl didn't want to wake up yet. It was so much nicer in the land of dreams.
Life had a different schedule, however. A loud bang made Meryl's eyes fly open with sudden, unexpected consciousness. The light flowing into the room was all too bright for her tastes, however, and she snapped them back shut in less than a split second. A groan escaped her lips.
Logic returned. She began to wonder just where exactly she was. From the sliver of glimpse that she had gotten of the room, she could tell that this was not one of the rooms in the ranch house. Or at least not any of the rooms she had seen. It was bigger. Cracking one eye, she allowed it to adjust to the bright noonday light, and then opened it further. She repeated the process with the other eye.
She was lying on her back. From the lowered point of view, all she could really see was the basic layout of the room. It was a standard hotel room size. It had a closet, bed (obviously), table, and a small kitchen. There was a chair right next to her bed.
Slowly she began to sit up. She sank back now quickly, though, as pain rushed through her. She suddenly remembered her shoulder wound. The wound, she noticed, was now carefully bandaged. This made her realize something else: her red shirt was missing. A shirt in general was missing. All she had on was her.well, her unmentionable.
A blush crept into her cheeks and blazed there at the realization that whoever had cared for her wound had also stripped her of her shirt. Still, it was obviously just to better care for her wound.
The door to the room opened. Meryl gasped, grasping blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to her chin, held there by a white-knuckled grasp on it that involved both hands.
What surprised her even more was who strode into her room.
First she noticed the all too familiar red coat. Then the hair: the stick straight, painfully upright blonde hair. Meryl was sure her eyes couldn't get any bigger.
Vash seemed startled to see a pair of violet gray eyes staring at him, as if they were seeing a ghostly visage. Silence hung in the air, choking them both of words. Vash had planned what he was going to say to her a million times, and yet the sight of her like that tossed all his planned out explanations out the window.
"Oh hey! You're awake!" Vash said stupidly, suddenly remembering the brown paper sack clutched carefully in his strong arms. "I was wondering how long you were going to be out. You must be hungry. I'm not much of a cook, but I can make a mean soup!"
Meryl hadn't said anything. She was afraid to. Afraid that if she opened her mouth she would scream, or worse: that it would make this whole scene real.
"How do you feel, Meryl?" Vash asked softly, shame showing clearly in his eyes.
Meryl couldn't take it. It was all too much. Tears, unbidden, came to her eyes, overflowed down her cheeks like an unchecked river. A small sob escaped her lips, followed by another, and another.
Vash moved over to her, concern now mixing with his shame. Without conscious thought, he reached out, took her into his arms, enfolding her in the safe circle of them. He was careful of her injury. She continued to sob. She even leaned into him slightly, which warmed him all over. His arms tightened around her. Her hands dropped the blanket, lashing out to wrap around him, pulling her to him as if he would disappear if she didn't. His hands moved up and down her back slowly in a comforting gesture. His good hand could feel the softness of her skin quite clearly. It rang out to his senses, in fact. But he pointedly ignored that.
Slowly, Meryl regained her composure. She also became conscious of her lack of shirt, and she pulled away from him quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through her shoulder because of it. She still reached for the blanket and pulled it up to where her undergarment wasn't exposed, however.
"Vash.what are you doing here?" Meryl asked quietly, her voice still shaking with the force of her tears. Her eyes met his, the pain in them striking Vash like a dagger to the heart.
"Why, I came to rescue you!" He said, trying to sound cheerful. He stood, made his way back to the little stove to begin working on the soup.
"You really do need to eat something"
The sound of pots and pans banging around as Vash dug for a suitable soup container rang in Meryl's ears. This whole situation seemed to be a dream: a dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Still, there were so many things she needed to know.
"Why?"
"Why do you need to eat? Because you've been out for two days. And besides, you need food to stay health-"
"Why did you rescue me?"
"Well."
"Why did you decide to make an appearance after two years? Did you suddenly start to care again? Or did you get bored in your wanderings?"
"Oh, Meryl."
Vash moved over to the bed again. She scooted away, anger and hurt showing as clearly in her eyes as it would've been on a movie screen.
"I.I don't suppose you'd accept an apology-"
She snorted.
"--When I came back, I couldn't risk putting you and Millie in danger. I had to care for Knives. I didn't know what he would do when he woke up. I couldn't lose you, or Millie."
"That seems to be your excuse for everything, Vash. You can't stay because it's 'dangerous'. I think that you just.just."
How many times had she wanted to tell him off? She had planned it all out nicely in her head. She would run into him in some dusty little town, and give him a piece of her mind. But now, sitting here, with those patient aqua eyes staring at her with apology written all over them, she just couldn't tear into him like she had wanted to.
Vash sighed, turning his back on her and moving to check on the soup.
"I knew you'd be angry. I tried to write, you know. But as soon as I got a few words into it I'd tear it up in disgust. I had no right to just leave you and Millie. I guess I just kind of assumed you would go back home. That you would live a normal life, without Vash the Stampede around to mess it up"
There was silence. Meryl seemed to be thinking.
"We waited, you know. For months." She paused, thinking, before letting it all out in a rush, "I used to go out and sit on that god forsaken well every morning and stare at the gates, hoping to see a lanky blonde figure approaching them. But there never was. Never. And after a while, my hope began to slip. It took me months to realize that the humanoid typhoon just didn't care enough to come back."
"But. But that wasn't it at all!" Vash cried passionately, causing Meryl to look up at him again. A ladle was in his hand, held upright like a weapon. As if he could use it to slice through the lies she had buried herself under. Meryl looked away quickly, deciding instead to take in the thread of the blanket that covered her.
"I've checked up on you occasionally, you know."
Meryl blinked.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing" Vash was blushing now, the red of his face contrasting sharply with the blonde of his hair.
Meryl stared, trying not to think about how cute he was when he blushed. Then it dawned on her:
"You were the one who left me the present in my hotel room!"
Silence. Vash was blushing all the worse. He resembled a spiky-haired beet now. Turning to face her, albeit shyly, his hand came up to scratch the back of his head.
"Heh.yeah, I guess I was"
Meryl was silent. She felt like her head was going to explode from the overdose of information that she had received, just as it had felt when she was still trapped in Legato's 'fortress'.
A bowl of soup came into her line of vision. She looked up to Vash, who was holding a spoon in the other hand, and grinning like an idiot. His skin was starting to turn back to his original shade.
"To tell you the truth, I was kind of worried."
He handed her the soup, which she dutifully began to sip at. She seemed to realize just how hungry she was, because suddenly she was guzzling it. Vash settled himself down into the chair next to her bed.
"I was worried that when you saw me you were either going to scream at me, or hit me. Actually.considering how silent you've been, I think I would've kind of preferred if you had."
Meryl finished her soup, wiping the excess from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her movements were slow. She seemed to be searching for the right words to say. Vash wished she would just say something; anything, really. He had anticipated the angry, violent Meryl; he hadn't anticipated this Meryl. She looked so worn from the last time he had seen her. The light in her eyes seemed to have receded a bit, leaving the gray a bit more dominant. Vash knew she was hurt. He also knew that he was partially responsible for the pain. Oh, but how he wanted to just reach out, hold her, protect her.
"Ghosts." Meryl whispered.
"What?"
"I feel like.an old part of my life has come back to life. But, at the same time, it's still a ghost to me. I worked so hard to bury you. I didn't want to think about you, because it just hurt. I had kind of known that you wouldn't come back, anyway. I'm just the boring, moody insurance girl. I'm nothing in comparison to the humanoid typhoon. What did I have that would make you want to come back? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
There were the tears again. Every droplet from her eyes seemed like a droplet of his blood, hurting him in places unseen to the eye, but detectable by the heart.
"Meryl."
"No. Don't apologize. You don't have to. I was the one stupid enough to have hope that you would come back" She swiped angrily at the tears still flowing down her cheeks. "You didn't need to come back, anyway."
The tone in her voice told him different.
"But I wanted to come back, Meryl" Vash thought. "Because I..I."
Meryl squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the sight of him. Just seeing him hurt. "I'm fine now, actually. It seems my wound is healing nicely. I don't really.don't really think I need your help anymore"
Vash stared at her. It was a dismissal, if he had ever heard one. But underneath that calm exterior Vash could hear the roar of the storm. She was hurting like crazy. The wounds to her heart were still bleeding, and Vash had every intention of healing them too. He wouldn't leave, not this time.
Daringly, Vash reached out again to enfold her to him. He winced at how quickly she stiffened, but didn't let go.
"No"
"What do you mean no?"
"As in: no, Meryl, I'm not going anywhere."
"Vash." Meryl squeaked. She could feel her defenses falling, and it scared her that he could get past them so quickly "Please, don't do this"
In response, he only held her tighter. It was the only thing he could do. He couldn't speak right now. He wanted badly to tell her how much she meant to him, how haunted he was when she was gone. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened, and about how he had thought of her everyday for the past two years. But he couldn't. Not yet. He wasn't even sure she felt the same way. It was too fragile, too early. Like glass, he was afraid it would break. So he contented himself to holding her, feeling her heartbeat, inhaling the soft scent of her. He was overjoyed simply to be in her presence, so he enjoyed it to the fullest.
Meryl realized that her attempts at resistance were futile. He took up every one of her senses. Slowly, she relaxed against him, even went so far as to rest her head against his shoulder.
Her heart was beating ridiculously fast. She tried to will it to stop. It wouldn't listen, of course. Vash the Stampede, the man who had held her heart for years, was actually hugging her! Of course, it had to be just a friend thing. There was no way that Vash actually felt the same way about her. Meryl wouldn't let herself believe it. She couldn't. She would just be letting herself get all riled up for a huge let down. Instead, she resolved herself to simply enjoy the moment for what it was: a friend's attempt at comfort.
Vash smiled into her hair when he felt her relax. Good. At least she wasn't getting ready to claw his eyes out. Simply holding her in his arms was amazing. He could feel his heart swell. How long had he imagined a moment like this? He had not felt love this strong since Rem. And with Rem, it had been different. Rem was his idol. She was a mother figure to him. With Meryl it was entirely different. He felt the need to be beside her always. To protect her when she needed it, laugh with her when she didn't.
"So this is what all those poems meant" He whispered.
"Hmm?" Meryl responded.
"What? Oh, nothing. Just getting lost in thought."
"Mmm."
Meryl felt all too comfortable. It felt too natural, being in his arms. She was letting herself enjoy it. What happened when he left again? She was back to scare one. Nursing the wounds of his rejection and sobbing when no one was around. She would be alone again: totally, cruelly alone. It scared her. Still, it was so nice right now. Maybe she could just let herself enjoy it. She snuggled into him. She was still weary, and reclining like this was making her drowsy.
Continuing to smile, Vash tenderly wrapped the blanket about Meryl's shoulder, conscious of her need for modesty. He had been blushing to the roots of his hair when he had to remove her shirt, but it needed to be done. He had tenderly, and very gently cleaned the wound. The bullet had gone clean through, which was a relief. Still, patching up the object of his affection had proven a lot harder than healing a fellow gunman. Lucky for Vash he knew a few tricks of the trade. He had to, really, considering the path that he had chosen. Err.the path that had chosen him, really. After he had insured that the wound wasn't infected or in any immediate danger of harming Meryl's well being, he had tried his best to wash the shirt free of the blood. He would leave Meryl to sew up the bullet hole in it, though, because when it came to sewing the needle wound up in his skin more often than in the cloth.
The content sigh that escaped Meryl undid Vash. Suddenly he felt empowered. It was as if the entire world had been lifted from his shoulders by a little mayfly named love. He felt so silly, but so alive. And brave. Suddenly, he felt very brave.
"Meryl.I love you" Vash stated boldly.
There was silence. It quickly unraveled Vash's feelings of adequacy.
"Um, Meryl?"
Leaning forward, Vash stared down at Meryl. Her breathing was even, her face showing a considerably less amount of stress. Very quickly, Vash realized something. His wooing had been ineffective, not because Meryl hadn't been pleasantly surprised. Instead, she had fallen fast asleep.
-*-*-*-*
Mwahaha! Fluff! FLUFF! Lots and lots of fluff! Don't act like you don't like it. If you could though, I would appreciate some reviews on how you thought this scene turned out. Please? I'll give you an ice cream bar!