The inspiration for this came from a post I read (on the VashMeryl yahoo
group). It talked about Meryl and the writer's (Kaoru Kagome) character
analysis. She (?) talked about, among other things, how she thought Meryl
had some painful past relationship which caused her to be so..
temperamental (hey, I'm trying to keep a G rating.) Although I agree with
the writer on many things regarding Meryl, and I have read and liked some
fanfics with an angsty Meryl past in them, this was never how I saw her
character. So I decided to put my thoughts into words in fic-form. I hope
you enjoy!
I'm sure many of you won't agree with my ideas; you're welcome to flame me (I am a bit of a pyro, after all.) But this is how I see things (. at sometime past midnight, when I'm trying to get the thoughts whirling around in my head out so I can finally sleep.)
Claimer: Two hands, two feet, a damn long braid, two eyes, two ears, one nose, the normal complement of lips and teeth, and basically all the other body parts you'd expect of a human female. And a big, furry black puddle of kitty-love occupying my lap.
---------
I have always been Meryl Stryfe; successful, determined, knowing where I was going and how I was getting there. Rising quickly through the ranks of the Bernadelli Insurance Society, I was courteous and efficient, willing to put everything on the line for the sake of my job. I measured success in promotions and I always had my eyes on the ball. Everything else was secondary. My love life was made up of a string of short lived relationships with men as dedicated to their professions as I. My social life was a set of business connections and office acquaintances. My days followed a definite schedule: wake up at 6, work out till 7, get into the office by 8:30, leave by 8 at night, pick up some take out for dinner to be eaten while filling out any work I had taken home with me, and finally relax with a book or a movie before hitting the sack by midnight. I was content with this. Then I was assigned to follow Vash the Stampede. Nothing would ever be the same again; not for me at least.
Vash didn't fit anywhere in my nicely ordered world. Outlaws were supposed to be dangerous and possibly a bit mentally off-balance, like the nutcase with the boomerang. Not pacifists. Not dreamers searching for love and peace. He didn't fit so I refused to believe, though certainly I saw some of what he was capable of. But he gave me so many reasons not to believe and it was so much easier to yell at him for being a buffoon than to accept that it was an act and beneath it lay the humanoid typhoon in all of his pacifist, love and peace preaching glory.
It wasn't till Inepril that I could no longer deny the facts. He was indeed Vash the Stampede. And, somehow, this just made me more abusive, taking any excuse to give him a sound slapping (and being Vash, he'd never use his remarkable abilities to avoid the blow.) Looking back I realize I was jealous. He had something I didn't, something I never even realized I lacked. He was free; to follow his heart, to act as he pleased. To make friends with people who had tried to kill him just hours before. Whereas I always acted as I thought I was supposed to being Meryl Stryfe of the Bernadelli Insurance Society. I was jealous of his freedom.
But it's impossible to dislike Vash for long. Not with his idiotic boyish behavior overlying his sincerity and deep concern for those around him. I soon found myself trusting him. Putting my faith in him. And worrying about him when he was in trouble. He had a quality about him that the workaholics I had dated in the past never had; he really cared about what he did, not just what he could get out of it. And slowly I found my heart melting, when I had never known it was frozen.
Then Augusta happened, Milly and I were recalled, and Vash labeled the first human act of god. I returned to my old life at Bernadelli and tried to return to my old way of life as well. But something just wouldn't click. My eyes had been opened and I couldn't just close them again. Couldn't go back to the same old routine. There was so much more of so much more importance; work just didn't hold my attention as it used to. And there was Vash. I didn't know if he was alive or dead, and it ate at me far more than I was willing to admit even to myself. When the first reports of Vash-related disasters came in and we were reassigned back to watching over him I could barely contain my excitement. I was going back out into the world where I could make a difference. I was going to see Vash again.
It felt good to be out on the road again, chasing after Vash. As if I had been sleep-walking through life at Bernadelli, and now I was finally awake again. Of course, the good feelings didn't last for long, not with the darkness that was hard on Vash's tail. But I found all the emotions felt new, stronger, as if I was really experiencing them for the first time. The joy of helping the orphaned children. The sadness when Wolfwood died. And every time I saw the pain in Vash's eyes all I wanted was to be able to take it all away. To get one of those oh-so-sweet smiles, where I felt I could drown in his aqua eyes.
You need to understand this was all so new to me. Not just my feelings for Vash, but my entire perspective on life and the world I lived in. My entire life felt like when I was trying to hold on in the midst of the typhoon. Everything I had thought I knew and understood had been turned upside-down and backwards. Then I found myself standing up for Vash, shielding him with my body against an angry mob that cried out for his blood. And suddenly, even as I stood there, everything fell into place. There was no need for anyone to die; death would only cause more pain without making anything better. We all make mistakes, we all lose our way. But though we can't change the past, we can change ourselves and in changing we can choose a better future. I had changed, and the world would never be the same for me.
When it was over Vash hugged me and it felt wonderful. I just wanted to stay there in his arms. To tell him I loved him and have him reciprocate. But my mind was filled with too many doubts. Sure I knew we were friends, and that he cared about me. But love?
I have always been Meryl Stryfe, successful, determined, knowing where I was going and how I was getting there. I was Bernadelli Insurance Society's best disaster investigator. But what was that compared to Vash the Stampede, the humanoid typhoon, the first human act of god, one hundred and thirty something years old with abilities and experiences I could only guess at? How could I compare? What were the chances that he could ever feel for me the way I felt for him?
Now, I have a confession to make. I had always looked down on Milly for her foolish optimism and her open hearted manner. I thought she was sweet but childish, never having learned to live in the adult world of business and etiquette. And I saw her "follow your heart" advice as silly stuff you tell children too young to know any better. It wasn't until I found myself falling for Vash that I realized not only had I never followed my heart, but I had ignored it so long I could barely understand what it was saying. And when it came time, when I knew he was leaving and might never return, I failed again to follow my heart, and let my feelings remain unsaid.
I've been thinking, since Vash has been gone, that maybe it isn't as important that Vash reciprocate my feelings as that I tell him them. Maybe following your heart is an end unto itself. Just to let yourself feel, whether joy, sorrow, love, or hate, is a worthwhile goal. I don't want to go back to the gray world of business and etiquette and never ending forms to fill out. Where the only hope is the shallow joy of getting ahead. I want to be a part of this world I now see. I want to open my heart to it, even if that means I may get hurt. I want to tell my love how I feel and see what happens from there.
Please, God, let Vash come back.
---
Well, it came out a bit longer than expected.
I admit I've watched too many romantic comedies. You know: workaholic woman meets sweet man who teaches her the meaning of love. Just add Meg Ryan and Hugh Jackman (ooh. hugh jackman. sigh!) and you have the plot of Kate and Leopold minus the time travel thing (which didn't make much sense anyway.)
I guess there's nothing to do now but wait and see if I get lauded, burned alive, or ignored. (Not ignored!! Beat me, abuse me, but don't just ignore me!) Please review.
I'm sure many of you won't agree with my ideas; you're welcome to flame me (I am a bit of a pyro, after all.) But this is how I see things (. at sometime past midnight, when I'm trying to get the thoughts whirling around in my head out so I can finally sleep.)
Claimer: Two hands, two feet, a damn long braid, two eyes, two ears, one nose, the normal complement of lips and teeth, and basically all the other body parts you'd expect of a human female. And a big, furry black puddle of kitty-love occupying my lap.
---------
I have always been Meryl Stryfe; successful, determined, knowing where I was going and how I was getting there. Rising quickly through the ranks of the Bernadelli Insurance Society, I was courteous and efficient, willing to put everything on the line for the sake of my job. I measured success in promotions and I always had my eyes on the ball. Everything else was secondary. My love life was made up of a string of short lived relationships with men as dedicated to their professions as I. My social life was a set of business connections and office acquaintances. My days followed a definite schedule: wake up at 6, work out till 7, get into the office by 8:30, leave by 8 at night, pick up some take out for dinner to be eaten while filling out any work I had taken home with me, and finally relax with a book or a movie before hitting the sack by midnight. I was content with this. Then I was assigned to follow Vash the Stampede. Nothing would ever be the same again; not for me at least.
Vash didn't fit anywhere in my nicely ordered world. Outlaws were supposed to be dangerous and possibly a bit mentally off-balance, like the nutcase with the boomerang. Not pacifists. Not dreamers searching for love and peace. He didn't fit so I refused to believe, though certainly I saw some of what he was capable of. But he gave me so many reasons not to believe and it was so much easier to yell at him for being a buffoon than to accept that it was an act and beneath it lay the humanoid typhoon in all of his pacifist, love and peace preaching glory.
It wasn't till Inepril that I could no longer deny the facts. He was indeed Vash the Stampede. And, somehow, this just made me more abusive, taking any excuse to give him a sound slapping (and being Vash, he'd never use his remarkable abilities to avoid the blow.) Looking back I realize I was jealous. He had something I didn't, something I never even realized I lacked. He was free; to follow his heart, to act as he pleased. To make friends with people who had tried to kill him just hours before. Whereas I always acted as I thought I was supposed to being Meryl Stryfe of the Bernadelli Insurance Society. I was jealous of his freedom.
But it's impossible to dislike Vash for long. Not with his idiotic boyish behavior overlying his sincerity and deep concern for those around him. I soon found myself trusting him. Putting my faith in him. And worrying about him when he was in trouble. He had a quality about him that the workaholics I had dated in the past never had; he really cared about what he did, not just what he could get out of it. And slowly I found my heart melting, when I had never known it was frozen.
Then Augusta happened, Milly and I were recalled, and Vash labeled the first human act of god. I returned to my old life at Bernadelli and tried to return to my old way of life as well. But something just wouldn't click. My eyes had been opened and I couldn't just close them again. Couldn't go back to the same old routine. There was so much more of so much more importance; work just didn't hold my attention as it used to. And there was Vash. I didn't know if he was alive or dead, and it ate at me far more than I was willing to admit even to myself. When the first reports of Vash-related disasters came in and we were reassigned back to watching over him I could barely contain my excitement. I was going back out into the world where I could make a difference. I was going to see Vash again.
It felt good to be out on the road again, chasing after Vash. As if I had been sleep-walking through life at Bernadelli, and now I was finally awake again. Of course, the good feelings didn't last for long, not with the darkness that was hard on Vash's tail. But I found all the emotions felt new, stronger, as if I was really experiencing them for the first time. The joy of helping the orphaned children. The sadness when Wolfwood died. And every time I saw the pain in Vash's eyes all I wanted was to be able to take it all away. To get one of those oh-so-sweet smiles, where I felt I could drown in his aqua eyes.
You need to understand this was all so new to me. Not just my feelings for Vash, but my entire perspective on life and the world I lived in. My entire life felt like when I was trying to hold on in the midst of the typhoon. Everything I had thought I knew and understood had been turned upside-down and backwards. Then I found myself standing up for Vash, shielding him with my body against an angry mob that cried out for his blood. And suddenly, even as I stood there, everything fell into place. There was no need for anyone to die; death would only cause more pain without making anything better. We all make mistakes, we all lose our way. But though we can't change the past, we can change ourselves and in changing we can choose a better future. I had changed, and the world would never be the same for me.
When it was over Vash hugged me and it felt wonderful. I just wanted to stay there in his arms. To tell him I loved him and have him reciprocate. But my mind was filled with too many doubts. Sure I knew we were friends, and that he cared about me. But love?
I have always been Meryl Stryfe, successful, determined, knowing where I was going and how I was getting there. I was Bernadelli Insurance Society's best disaster investigator. But what was that compared to Vash the Stampede, the humanoid typhoon, the first human act of god, one hundred and thirty something years old with abilities and experiences I could only guess at? How could I compare? What were the chances that he could ever feel for me the way I felt for him?
Now, I have a confession to make. I had always looked down on Milly for her foolish optimism and her open hearted manner. I thought she was sweet but childish, never having learned to live in the adult world of business and etiquette. And I saw her "follow your heart" advice as silly stuff you tell children too young to know any better. It wasn't until I found myself falling for Vash that I realized not only had I never followed my heart, but I had ignored it so long I could barely understand what it was saying. And when it came time, when I knew he was leaving and might never return, I failed again to follow my heart, and let my feelings remain unsaid.
I've been thinking, since Vash has been gone, that maybe it isn't as important that Vash reciprocate my feelings as that I tell him them. Maybe following your heart is an end unto itself. Just to let yourself feel, whether joy, sorrow, love, or hate, is a worthwhile goal. I don't want to go back to the gray world of business and etiquette and never ending forms to fill out. Where the only hope is the shallow joy of getting ahead. I want to be a part of this world I now see. I want to open my heart to it, even if that means I may get hurt. I want to tell my love how I feel and see what happens from there.
Please, God, let Vash come back.
---
Well, it came out a bit longer than expected.
I admit I've watched too many romantic comedies. You know: workaholic woman meets sweet man who teaches her the meaning of love. Just add Meg Ryan and Hugh Jackman (ooh. hugh jackman. sigh!) and you have the plot of Kate and Leopold minus the time travel thing (which didn't make much sense anyway.)
I guess there's nothing to do now but wait and see if I get lauded, burned alive, or ignored. (Not ignored!! Beat me, abuse me, but don't just ignore me!) Please review.