Ok, this is my first real fanfic, so go easy on me… It's mostly Vash and Meryl fluff, so if you disagree with that pairing, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU! Please R and R! ^_~.
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun or the fabulous characters represented within… Yasuhiro Nightow owns them. I hope this disclaimer is enough for all the chapters ;_; I'm too lazy to write this twelve times ;__;
*~*~Chapter 1~*~*
It would have been nice. Polite at the very least. Meryl Stryfe pounded the bread dough into the rough wooden counter wrathfully. She reached for the flour, knocking the tin canister onto the floor. She coughed as a cloud of white powder rose into her face. Her face suddenly contorted in rage and she kicked the canister across the room. It hit the wall with a loud CLANG, leaving another cloud of powder in its wake. She curled up her shaking fists and clenched her teeth. He had never even told her where he was going. He had just… left. She sighed, raising a tired, flour covered hand to her face. Cooking had never been her forte. She leaned against the counter, bowing her head. How did I end up here? She crossed her arms. Living in a broken down building with her coworker, a less-than-respectable priest, and the infamous Humanoid Typhoon. She shook her head.
"What'cha doin'?"
Meryl jumped two feet off the floor, letting out a startled yelp. Her boots hit the floor, slipping on the flour.
"OW!" she exclaimed as she landed hard on her rear end.
"Ooh… hey, are you okay?"
Meryl's eyes traveled up nearly six feet of red coat, stopping on a concerned face framed by spiky blonde hair.
"I'm fine," she said coldly and quickly got to her feet.
"I would've helped you," said Vash the Stampede cheerily, "but my hands are full!"
Meryl stared at the large brown paper bag he held in his arms.
"What's that?" she inquired testily.
"Groceries." He set the bag on a clean portion of the counter and started taking things out. "Just yesterday you said we were low on coffee."
Meryl glanced sheepishly at the empty coffeepot, recalling cup after cup of coffee she had drunk that morning while cooking. Maybe that was why she was so edgy.
"But you left early this morning! It's after two now!" Meryl's voice rose in annoyance of the man who was calmly setting food on the counter.
"Er… well… I had a few hang-ups," he said with an embarrassed grin.
"Like wha-"
"Meryl, come quick! We have a problem!" Millie Thompson came bounding into the room.
Vash threw Meryl a quick glance, but she was already behind Millie, running up the stairs. He followed them, without stopping to think why.
The girls stopped at Nicholas D. Wolfwood's open door and Millie turned to the shorter woman, a worried look on her face. Meryl peered into the room, her jaw dropping in disbelief.