A/n: Well, here is chapter two of the new 'Promise'. I have been about three seconds from dumping this fic and moving back to my humor and poetry, but then all the rapid plot bunnies and T9's sharp objects and Hustino's…I really don't know what Hustino would do if I quit this, but I know all of this together would kill me, so this thing will continue even if I only have three reviews every chapter…
TK: …what a nice little run-on sentence you have there, Blu-chan.
Blu: Shut up, this is an author note, I can rant all I like, they can just skip over if they don't want to hear it! Anywho, tho I know not too many people are reading this, I am going to continue and maybe even make a sequel…just because T9 will kill me if I don't seeing as we have talked thru it and everything @.@ I know what you are thinking-
TK: what? "How much longer can this author note go!?" or maybe, "Is this even a chapter!?"
Blu: I CAN RANT, DAMMIT! Anywho, before sword boy has a heart attack, I better thank the reviews and be done with it.
Hustino: First reviewer, you must be so happy! …no? w/e, you reviewed. Thankies and enjoy the chapter, seeing as I have rewritten more, as you hoped!
Wolf-woman54: I am glad you like this version better, me too! ENJOY
Batbabe1: yay, you read another one of my ficcies! I hope you stay on the ride for another chapter. I am glad we cleared up the little gender question.
Batbabe1 (later): OMIGOD! YOU REALLY WANNA READ THIS!
TK: Blu, all three of them do, Hustino just said so in another email and T9 can't see you updated
Blu: must you ALWAYS be a kill joy?
Read, Review, and Wait, the three things that happen on this site
Disclaimer: -forgot to do one XD- …if I owned this anime, tho great it may be, NICK WOULD HAVE LIVED, DAMMIT! And seeing he would live…THIS CHAPTER WOULDN'T BE HERE, LET ALONE THIS FIC, DUMB-ASSES! Ahem, thank you.
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Chapter Two: So Far Down
"Is it ready yet? Huh? Is it?!"
Vash hovers over the small insurance woman as she stirs the soup in the pot sitting on the stove. Though she is tempted to smack the big oaf with the ladle in her hands, Meryl refrains from showing such anger in front of the children. Most of the little ones sit around the table, including the newest member. The rest, however, are swarming around the two adults in an attempt to get a piggy-back ride or a free taste of the soup. Of course, Vash is the first to cave. Before long three of the smaller children have scaled his back and are now sitting pretty on his shoulders. Vash waddles away, not wanting to drop his passengers into the hot water below. Meryl smiles triumphantly at the gunman's retreat to the table. Without missing a beat Vash swings around, much to the joy of his three little hangers, and calls to her in the ever-loving; "Is it done NOW?!"
Meryl, not realizing her own strength (yeah right), yanks the ladle out of the soup and chucks it at the blonde. It's a direct hit. Vash goes sailing back while the kids sitting on him 'abandon ship'. Catching himself on a chair, Vash begins to rub his now red and bleeding nose with a groan. "Ow…that hurt!"
"Duh, it hurt, you big idiot," the small boy from the chapel says, shaking his head. "She didn't throw it at you to make you feel better." After digging through the nearest drawer, Meryl fishes out another spoon and returns to her stirring, this time without Vash's comments.
The kitchen quiets down after the 'ladle chucking fiasco', letting the two adults simmer in the blank silence. The boys and girls split up, each side picking a corner to play in. Vash and the 'new' kid exchange glances, eyebrows cocked in confusion. Meryl side glances the two, slightly smiling at the pair's friendly actions. Her little staring has gone on too long though as her soup was beginning to boil. Not noticing this, seeing as a little girl has decided to distract her by asking her to make sure her doll isn't crying, Meryl kneels down, leaving the spoon in the heating water.
"Umm…Meryl?" The child at the table points at the pot on the stove. "I may suck at cooking but…is it supposed to have fire on the top?" Meryl does a double take, her eyes bulging at the site of the meal aflame.
Grabbing the pot's cover, Meryl beings to smother out the fire, but the black haired midget (A/n: Meryl, for those with no creativity) is forced back as flames pour from the underside of the rusted pot. The little girls begin to scream as the boys 'ooh' and 'aah' at the light show. Vash stands up so fast his chairs flies backwards. The other one sitting at the table also shoots up, running to Meryl's side and flipping off the power to the stoves burner. Vash rips the pot from the heat, the cover on keeping the soup inside, and sets it on the table for all to see. "I think it's safe to say the soup is done!" Vash says with a half grin. Meryl glares a little, hiding her own smile. The 'new' kid sighs in relief before sitting back down with the other dozen some kids.
As Meryl starts to hand out the bowls to the chatting children, she notices the 'newest' boy's infixion on the stairs. Following his gaze (Vash soon picking up on this and doing the same), she sees her tall partner looking wide-eyed down at the table. "Millie!" the small boy yells, jumping from his chair. Meryl swings around noting her friend is not looking at the whole table but just at the small boy now locking eyes with her. Millie turns away, retreating to Wolfwood's room just as the boy begins racing for the stairs. By the time the child gets to the bottom step, Millie has disappeared again into the door frame of the room. Lingering at the stairway, the boy drops his shoulders. After a moment he returns, pushing his chair in behind him, and sits with his bowl in his hands as if nothing happened. He smiles weakly up at Meryl, lifting his bowl to her.
"Umm…can I have some soup, Ma'am?"
~*~
What the hell just happened? That wasn't Millie on the stairs. It couldn't have been…oh damn, what have I done to her?
"You can put your bowl down now." Meryl says, bringing me back to reality. I blink, setting my bowl back on the table top. She moves around the table, handing out the meal to everyone. Vash looks at me, I nod to him, knowing what his eyes are asking;
'Did you see the look on Millie's face?'
I shake my head, swirling my spoon in the soup. I couldn't help but want to cry out to her, but I just blew my cover.
I blew it sky–high.
Hell, it's in orbit.
"Are you ok?" Vash asks. Once again pulled from thought, I look up blankly and nod.
"No, I'm fine," I say half-heartedly. Soon the room is filled with small-talk. The only ones not chit-chatting about this or that is Vash and I. Finally realizing my absence in the conversations flying, Meryl decides to strike up one of her own.
"So, you were hiding out in the chapel, were you?" she asks, turning to me with a friendly smile. Playing my part, I nod. "Well, did you, by chance see a man th-"
"Hey, Meryl!" Vash says, hurrying to cut her off. "Whatcha make this out of?" As the two of them get into a deep conversation/bitch fight over what should be put into the meal, I slip out the door to freedom.
The door closes behind me, and I let out a sigh of relief. Now I can stand normal. After leaning on the side of our little make-shift home, I blink in the bright sunlight of the evening. The picture of Millie on the staircase flashes before my eyes.
"Don't look at me like that…" I say, slipping my hand into my jacket pocket to pull out my cigarettes. Man, I need a smoke. Bad. Then I remember: I don't have my jacket. That means I don't have my cigarettes. DAMMIT! Cursing to myself, I roughly shove my hands into the pockets I really have. This blows.
"Don't look at you like what?"
I jump about ten feet in the air, which is hard to do seeing as I am now only three something, and spin around to see Vash grinning from the door way. I glare, the tall bastard enjoying it. "Did no one ever tell you NOT TO SNEAK UP ON PEOPLE?!" I scream, making a lunge for his head. Vash dodges, forgetting there is a wall in the way, and slams right into it. I stop mid-jump to take in the full stupidity of the legendary gun man. Dear Lord, some times the truth seems so far from the truth it's funny. Case and point, the blubbering fool now clutching his head as tears run down his face. I shake my head, my trademark grin sliding into place. "You really know how to make a fool of yourself, Vash the Stampede." He looks up, grinning slightly, but still holding his noodle.
"Actually I came out here to do this," he says moving to the alley between out house and the next. His smile widens as he places both hands on the wall as if bracing himself. I turn away, already knowing what will happen. Like I want to see THAT. As the humanoid typhoon pukes his guts out behind me, I can't help but chuckle to myself.
"You're really a piece of work, Vash. Not only can you not hold your liquor, but you can't even hold Meryl's soup."
"I'M SORRY!" he screams through hacks. I turn around, for no apparent reason, and regret it two seconds later.
"Damn, that's just sick!" I holding my own mouth. Turning around to face the door, I mumble the rest to myself. "That's right up there with Legato's fun, and E.G.'s cooking!"
"I knew I would find you out here!"
Once again, I jump twice my height from surprise. "MERYL! Don't DO that to me!"
"I'm sorry," she says with a smile. She must think 'I'm sooooo cute'. Heh, I can't wait to see her face when she realizes it's me! Sitting on the steps to lower herself to my level of sight (some thing I never thought she would have to do), she continues. "I need you and Vash to go find us all the stuff on this list, 'kay?" Producing said list, she pats me on the head and moves to the door. Putting on my best 'sure-ma'am-I-wont-let-you-down' face, I wait for her to leave before shoving the piece of paper given to me in my pocket. Mumbling every curse word I can remember, I trot over to Vash before pulling him away to get whatever the hell Meryl put on her damn shopping list.
~*~
Meryl sips her coffee nervously. The wispy curtains, though torn, dance in the evening wind. "They've been gone a long time," she says to the empty room. The rumble of little footsteps above her is her only answer. She sighs before returning to the brew in her hands. Minutes pass and soon the mug looks up at her, empty. Setting the cup aside, her glassy gaze trails to the open window. The mist covering the her eyes disappears when gold and red pass the flapping fabric. "VASH THE STAMPEDE!" she screams as he bursts through the door. "How long does it take to get some food!?"
Vash blinks, trying to find an answer but comes up blank. The little boy, nick-named 'Chapel' in her mind, rises to meet Meryl's question. "The town is totaled," he says calmly. "It took us forever just to figure out what used to be what."
Meryl's glare on the two males lingers but slowly subsides. Instead of dwelling on half answered questions she turns her stormy-cloud eyes to the gun man in red. "Next time you go out for food, remember where you got it from, okay?" she says, hiding a smile from the stampede. "We still have almost a dozen mouths to feed here!" Not hearing an answer, she doubles the cold stare.
"OUCH! Right in the heart!" Vash keels over like he's been shot. "That icy glare of death! I can't take it! I just can't take it!" The Humanoid Typhoon falls over a near-by chair, playing dead. Completely fooled by his little act (sarcasm), Meryl chucks the empty mug at the blonde.
"You goof-ball," she says. "We already have too many five year olds in this house to need a grown man acting like one, too!"
"Looks like the honey moon's over," Chapel snickers. Vash jumps off the chair and places a gloved hand over his little mouth.
"Kids, aren't they cute?" Vash places his other hand behind his head. Chapel grumbles something, but it's muffled under the glove incasing his mouth. "Huh? Whatcha' say there?"
Chapel yanks Vash's hand away and bops him one on the head. "I SAID GET YOU STINKIN HAND OFFA MY MOUTH, YOU STUPID NEEDLE NOG-" Before he can finish, Vash pushes him towards the stairs, muttering something as they go. Meryl, completely in the dark on what just happened, collapses on chair behind her. When Vash returns he is alone, no little shadow from the church behind him.
"Do you know his name?" Meryl asks the sitting Vash. Without meeting her eyes, he nods. "Well then, what is it?"
"Nicholas I think," he replies, the shadow of a smile on his lips. Meryl tries to hide forming tears, but she has never been good at hiding things from the man in red across from her. "Are you ok?"
"Why do you put on a smile for him? For them?" Meryl huffs, looking at the outlaw frustrated.
"Huh? Whatcha mean?"
"I mean, you must feel like crap, like the rest of us, but you still act like a bloody fool for the kids!" she grunts, slamming a fist on the table. Instead of blowing her off or tip-toeing around her question, Vash looks up and smiles sadly at the short woman.
"He asked me the same thing, Wolfwood I mean, the first time we met," Vash says quietly, leaning back in the chair. "He said I must be hurting terrible on the inside, but I put on a grin and bare it. He, that boy I mean, knows I'm just faking too, but he doesn't mind or say anything about it. Because he doesn't say anything about it…I'm…I'm glad to put on the clowns face for him, even if we are both just acting…it's just who I am, who we are."
~*~
Blu: Not my best chapters, but I am getting there! Some how I feel I'm just adding un-needed stuff in here to fill up space. Well, anyway, the time the –counts her readers- three of you have been waiting for, Wolfwood's and Millie's reunion, will be in the next chapter.
TK: you do know that no one cares, right?
Blu: T9 and Hustino care!
TK: …sure they do
Blu: TK, shut up
~*~
Wolfwood: It's ok to mask your feelings, to hold what you don't want others to see inside, but no one can do it forever. The clay mask of falsehood cracks sooner or later. The looks in people's eyes, the empty smiles and waves, the fake laughs, and stupid jokes and pranks, they are all an escape. To say you are truly happy is when in the face of pain or suffering is to deny yourself the reality of human nature. Though masking your sorrow to the outside world by acting like a class clown is not right, it is no better then wallowing in self pity or grief.
Next Chapter: Smile For Me