Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, Planet Gunsmoke, Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe, Millie Thompson, annoying insurance companies, Rem Seiburem (Saverem), the deceased Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Millions Knives, the late Legato Bluesummers, any of the Gung-ho-Guns, flowers, "Sound Life", Project S.E.E.D.S., powerful weapons, cramped buses, geezers, or pretty much anything that makes an appearance in this fic! They belong to the wonderful Yasuhiro Nightow.
Author's Note: I'd like to voice my special thanks to CaptainMurphysMistress, gir, and geranium for their reviews! It means so much to me that you enjoy my writing! I sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter as well!
Chapter V: Paradox
The long bus ride back to civilization was turning out to be a miserable one from where Meryl Stryfe, Damage Claims Adjuster for the Bernardelli Insurance Company, was sitting. All day long, both she and her fellow insurance agent, Millie Thompson, had been forced to endure impossibly hot conditions in a cramped automobile. Not just hot, mind you, but on a bus, filled past capacity with a gathering of cranky old men and women, complaining about how under-appreciated the elderly were becoming in society. Naturally, this meant that patience was quickly dissipating, and tensions were running unusually high.
"Out of all of the buses on Gunsmoke, we had to pick this one," the petite woman muttered, crossing her slender arms tightly in front of her chest.
True, Meryl had been equally irritable before they'd even set foot in the bus station; the current situation was only the bitter icing on the overly-cooked cake.
"It's not that bad, Meryl," the tall brunette replied, a false smile playing across her face. "And besides, it's the perfect time to catch up on your beauty sleep."
"That's easy for you to say."
You didn't just lose the love of your life.
Almost instantaneously, the artificial smile disappeared from the woman's sun-tanned face. It was within her watery, sky blue eyes that her true emotions could be found. There was no way to conceal it; Millie knew, in her heart, that things were that bad.
"You know, Meryl, when you lose someone you really love, it's okay to feel mad at the world. I felt that way when Mr. Wolfw -- Nicholas died."
"That was a completely different situation, Millie," she lied, hastily making an effort to avoid her associate's eyes.
"Not so different," the larger girl responded wisely, placing a hand atop Meryl's bony shoulder.
Despite Millie's standing reputation for being naive and possessing the innocence of a child, it was becoming painfully clear that she knew the truth. She had picked up on all of the off-hand comments and silent cues over the past months; how could she not have? After all of Meryl's cavorting, making jabs at Vash's faults and convenient interruptions when speaking of the gunman, how could she not recognize the signs of love?
Realizing that there was no point in further denying the obvious, Meryl turned towards Millie. Tears quivered on the verge of her bottom eyelids, prepared to fall at any given time.
"Oh, Millie!" she cried aloud, flinging herself haphazardly into the woman's outstretched arms. Against the said woman's button up, collared shirt, Meryl sobbed freely. "He's r-really g-gone!"
"I know, I know," Millie cooed to the weeping girl, embracing her reassuringly. "Let it all out; that's the only way you can start to feel better."
Around the packed bus, wrinkled, liver-spotted men and women were beginning to stare at the pair of women. Several particularly prim, straight-laced ladies were scowling upon them, muttering about how some people needed to exercise a little self control in public. Others were desperately fumbling for the volume controls on their hearing aids, a few turning them up to full blast in order to catch the conversation, while many turned them down, as to block out the loud wailing.
"I c-can't believe it! H-how could h-he go and g-g-get h-himself k-killed like t-that?" Meryl whimpered, making no effort to restrain her sobs.
"You have to be strong, Sempai. Mr. Vash wouldn't want to see you like this; he'd want you to be happy, and out celebrating life," Millie told her, gently stroking her friend's dark hair. "That's what he would want more than anything, I know it."
"But h-how c-can I?" she stammered, looking into the pair of kind eyes. "I'm n-not that s-strong!"
Aggravation quickly mounting aboard the bus, one of the more unruly passengers rose to his feet. Stumbling towards the two with an unsteady step, the robust man gave a guttural yell.
"Will you both just shut up?!" he growled, vanquishing a fist threateningly. "I'm tired of hearing this whining!"
Still holding Meryl close to her body, Millie dared to look the man square in the eyes.
"You should show a little compassion! This woman just lost someone very dear to her!"
"That doesn't give the stupid wench the right to disturb the whole bus!"
The brunette practically jumped to her feet, having released her grip on her petite colleague. The top of her head grazed the ceiling of the dingy bus, where as, the man merely reached the bridge of her nose. Her expression hardened, as she stood her ground, sheltering Meryl from his gaze. For several seconds, the two merely stared at one another.
"I suggest that you return to your seat, mister, before someone gets hurt," Millie advised, pointing towards the front of the bus.
Apparently weary of invoking the wrath of the Amazonian-sized woman, the man skulked back to his seat, and said nothing more.
"Millie..." came an astounded whisper.
Smiling triumphantly, the girl relaxed and returned to a sitting position beside her friend. Meryl's indigo eyes were wide with surprise, as she stared in amazement at the figure next to her.
"See? Everything will be fine now," Millie stated resolutely, taking the slim girl in her arms. "We'll just have to take things one at a time, that's all."
"You're right," she agreed, wiping her eyes with the back of her right hand. "I'm feeling much better now; in fact, once we get to the next town, how about go out for a few drinks, to celebrate life?"
"That sounds great, Meryl! I'll have a banana-cream pudding!"
And I'll have a glass of arsenic...
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C/N: A little deranged, suicidal thought by Meryl there, huh?
Well, did you guys enjoy this chapter? Did you enjoy Meryl's little nervous breakdown? I enjoyed writing it! Now, it's time for you guys to let me know what you think! All you have to do is hit the 'Submit Review' button, and leave me some love!
Thanks for reading this installment of "Golden Recluse"!
Trigun © Yasuhiro Nightow
"Golden Recluse" © Kawaii Youko