Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)
Author's Notes: *rubbing hands evilly* Hello my pretties. My perverse mind. . .uh, I mean, Vash's perverse mind, was at work for the past couple of days, procrastinating for me. Here are the results of our combined labors. I thank you all. Brief acknowledgements will follow because I felt like it again, though my definition of brief sometimes gets "stretched".
VASHIES-GIRL: I'm trying. Really! I'm trying!
Lady Rebecca: Yes. Sadly, when I channel Vash, he is a pervert. *grin*
krazyMaze: Hmm...you naughty reviewer you! What did you think Vash was going to take from her dresser? I was thinking a hairbrush or something. LOL
Niji Kitsune: Why, thank you very much!
S-chan The Great: *going to mailbox with extreme caution* Oh no! Another invisible death threat? Come on now S-chan, I've got another chapter up. See? See!?
Roganu-chan: *singing an oooold song* Do you know that song "I'm your puppet"? For some weird reason, that's what came into my head when I saw your review.
Arafel: Really, I think I love you as a reviewer! You defend me from random attacks too! *gazing with starry eyes at Arafel* Arafel to the rescue!
LadySteph: Are you still waiting? Impatiently? I think I may love you too! I'm trying to be Vash, really! But it's really uncomfortable. The stilts to get me that tall keep getting tangled in the red coat. I might have to *Be* Vash some other way. LOL.
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: *grin* See Arafel's review.
Wow! Too much caffeine, tons of procrastination, and not enough sleep makes me love everybody! But anyway. . .On to the product of a perverse mind! Oops. I meant: On to the product of a procrastinating mind! Enjoy!
Chapter 5
"So what are you planning to do once he gets rehabilitated?" Meryl asks tersely in an almost growl that I know she doesn't mean. (Well maybe she meant it, she did just come from 'tucking' Knives into bed. Yup. He fell asleep midway through one of their glaring sessions which makes her technically the winner. But I think she wanted to gloat over him and she can't very well do that if he's asleep. But back to Meryl now in the kitchen with me. . .) "He's going to get well soon, Vash. You'll have to do something."
"Truthfully, Meryl?" I say sheepishly. "I haven't really thought beyond that. The important thing was to get him safe and alive again."
"Well he's alive. Safe? For now," she threatened. A hint of that look reserved for Knives surfaced for a moment. "But I don't think I can stand any more of that glare."
I raise my eyebrows. "Why, I don't know what you mean, Ms. Stryfe. I thought he had a charming smile." I smile slyly at her. "In certain lights, you almost have the same charming expression on your face."
Her hand raises halfway, slightly threatening. Okay. Meryl is not in a humorous mood today. My timing's off again. Was it *that* time? Did she hear about my little escapade at the bank a week ago? Milly wouldn't be that heartless.
I smile wider in an effort to deflect the blow I know is coming and a strange expression comes into her face and she sighs, her hand dropping in resigned defeat.
"Idiot," she murmurs sofly and my breath catches in my throat. Was that almost gentle?
"Here," she says, shoving a box of donuts at me. Okay. Not gentle. Same Meryl as usual. "They said they couldn't get rid of them."
"Thanks," I say happily. The donuts are still tantalizingly warm and the doughy smell fills my nostrils as I open the top almost reverently. Mmm. . .donuts. Was there ever anything else of human invention so perfect? Sprinkles. Yummm. . .
She sighs and sits across from me, leaning back in her chair tiredly. "So where did Milly go?" she asks as I am about to take a bite of my first donut.
"She said something about dinner shopping. I hope she hurries," I say carefully. Milly and I had rehearsed this beforehand. Truthfully, she was at the bank babysitting the workers' children. Perfect job for her it turns out. Me on the other hand. . . Anyway, back to the donut. "Mmm. . ."
"Honestly," she says, "I don't know how you can do nothing and be always hungry."
"That's not fair," I protest. "You know I do odd jobs here and there. I changed that lightbulb last week. And I've got that job in town as a bodyguard now."
Meryl chuckled dryly. "Yeah, yeah. I remember. But you don't really *do* anything as a bodyguard. All you have to do is say 'I am the great Vash the Stampede' and they fall over their feet trying to avoid you. And as for that lightbulb, you were the one who broke it."
"It's not my fault I'm famous. And I'll have you know that lightbulb deliberately swung at me when I reached for it."
"Yeah, yeah," she grins mockingly. "So who are you guarding this time? The banker? The mayor's pet?"
"A woman."
Meryl immediately stiffens and I could see the wheels in her head turning like the wheel on a music box, probably cheerfully chiming *Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert after all!*
"Oh?" she asks nonchalantly. "Who?"
"Someone of no consequence," I say, the donut again on the way to my mouth.
"Who?" she asks more forcefully, a glint in her eye. Fearing a bonk to the head, I stop the donut's progress.
"Do you really want to know?" I grin.
"Well, yeah," she said.
"Why?"
"So I can warn her you're a pervert," she adds in a nasty snicker.
"Meryl!" I gape in shock. "I would never hit on the mayor's grandmother unless she tried something with me first," I deadpan.
"I wouldn't put it past you," she chuckles and I swear I can sense relief in her voice.
The donut again tries to make the trip to my mouth and Meryl groans tiredly, "Argh! Long day today."
Cue Vash to exit with donuts. "Really?" my mouth automatically says. Damn sensitive heart. "You want to talk about it?" Huh? Stop it! Cue Vash to exit with donuts! Donuts!
"Nah. Just complaining," she sighs and just then she leans further back in her chair, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head tiredly. And my jaw drops. I mean it *drops*. I thought I felt the table against my chin. That's how low it dropped. For you see – remember my dream about the kitchen? – my dreaming mind had triggered my waking mind into remembering a memory that was never real; a memory of her so close that her warmth stayed on my hands and her scent lingered in my head. It wasn't anything she'd said or done to trigger this pseudo-memory, it was my perverse mind just reminding me that I was in love (and maybe a little in lust) with this woman. (Insults. Her. Me. Kitchen. Then in a voice of calm resignation and firm resolution, Vash I love you. Kitchen table. 'Nuff said.)
My mouth is still open and I am desperately trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her. The thing to do at this point would have been to look decently away and not stare. But dammit, I just can't seem to move my head. My neck has decided to bolt itself in place, my jaw is refusing to move, and my eyes are glued to her.
As she arches her back, her white top presses against her, outlining the absolute perfect smallness of her breasts. Her head falls back exposing that delicate throat and the tiny throbbing pulse just beneath her smooth skin. Her eyes close and her mouth smiles in satisfaction at the stretch and she makes this noise of perfect abandon. And I – I am mentally finishing that dream. Imagining her in that same position beneath me. In complete abandon. Moaning my name as her orgasm hits her. Oh dear. Turn away, Vash. Turn away now before she catches you. Save yourself!
Meryl opens her eyes and finds me staring and of course freaks out.
"What?" she says, drawing back suspiciously, the legs of the chair thumping loudly against the kitchen floor.
And I remember that I am supposed to be eating donuts.
I turn away and quickly arrange my face into a controlled mask of cheerfulness. You are not blushing, Vash. You are not aroused as hell. You did not look as if you wanted to jump her. Donuts, Vash. Think donuts. Be the donut.
"Vash?"
"Huh?" I fake vapid cheerfulness and cram the donut into my mouth, avoiding her eyes and concentrating on the sweetness of the sprinkles. Somehow it feels really dry against my tongue and the sugar doesn't even register in my brain.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?" she mumbles after a minute.
I mumble something that sounds like a protest about her interrupting my eating.
"How do you get air between the donuts?"
I smile at her and mumble, "Mmphbsdts."
How could I be so stupid to let her see my need for her? I know she and I will never happen. She's human, I'm a Plant. She's perfect, and I'm scarred beyond repair. And she, well, she doesn't exactly hate me, but I don't think she likes me either. Tolerant is what I'd call her. Why am I even daring to hope?
"Mphnut?" I offer.
"You're hopeless," she grumbles. "I'm going to go find Milly and make sure she doesn't buy only pudding."
Shaking her head, she leaves the kitchen and I smile absently after her, her name on the point of leaving my tongue and the confession with it. *Meryl I love you!* But of course I don't say it. She'd hit me on the head. And besides, the damn donuts are in the way.
Argh! Donuts. I need another box of donuts. And a cold shower.
Author's Notes: *rubbing hands evilly* Hello my pretties. My perverse mind. . .uh, I mean, Vash's perverse mind, was at work for the past couple of days, procrastinating for me. Here are the results of our combined labors. I thank you all. Brief acknowledgements will follow because I felt like it again, though my definition of brief sometimes gets "stretched".
VASHIES-GIRL: I'm trying. Really! I'm trying!
Lady Rebecca: Yes. Sadly, when I channel Vash, he is a pervert. *grin*
krazyMaze: Hmm...you naughty reviewer you! What did you think Vash was going to take from her dresser? I was thinking a hairbrush or something. LOL
Niji Kitsune: Why, thank you very much!
S-chan The Great: *going to mailbox with extreme caution* Oh no! Another invisible death threat? Come on now S-chan, I've got another chapter up. See? See!?
Roganu-chan: *singing an oooold song* Do you know that song "I'm your puppet"? For some weird reason, that's what came into my head when I saw your review.
Arafel: Really, I think I love you as a reviewer! You defend me from random attacks too! *gazing with starry eyes at Arafel* Arafel to the rescue!
LadySteph: Are you still waiting? Impatiently? I think I may love you too! I'm trying to be Vash, really! But it's really uncomfortable. The stilts to get me that tall keep getting tangled in the red coat. I might have to *Be* Vash some other way. LOL.
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: *grin* See Arafel's review.
Wow! Too much caffeine, tons of procrastination, and not enough sleep makes me love everybody! But anyway. . .On to the product of a perverse mind! Oops. I meant: On to the product of a procrastinating mind! Enjoy!
Chapter 5
"So what are you planning to do once he gets rehabilitated?" Meryl asks tersely in an almost growl that I know she doesn't mean. (Well maybe she meant it, she did just come from 'tucking' Knives into bed. Yup. He fell asleep midway through one of their glaring sessions which makes her technically the winner. But I think she wanted to gloat over him and she can't very well do that if he's asleep. But back to Meryl now in the kitchen with me. . .) "He's going to get well soon, Vash. You'll have to do something."
"Truthfully, Meryl?" I say sheepishly. "I haven't really thought beyond that. The important thing was to get him safe and alive again."
"Well he's alive. Safe? For now," she threatened. A hint of that look reserved for Knives surfaced for a moment. "But I don't think I can stand any more of that glare."
I raise my eyebrows. "Why, I don't know what you mean, Ms. Stryfe. I thought he had a charming smile." I smile slyly at her. "In certain lights, you almost have the same charming expression on your face."
Her hand raises halfway, slightly threatening. Okay. Meryl is not in a humorous mood today. My timing's off again. Was it *that* time? Did she hear about my little escapade at the bank a week ago? Milly wouldn't be that heartless.
I smile wider in an effort to deflect the blow I know is coming and a strange expression comes into her face and she sighs, her hand dropping in resigned defeat.
"Idiot," she murmurs sofly and my breath catches in my throat. Was that almost gentle?
"Here," she says, shoving a box of donuts at me. Okay. Not gentle. Same Meryl as usual. "They said they couldn't get rid of them."
"Thanks," I say happily. The donuts are still tantalizingly warm and the doughy smell fills my nostrils as I open the top almost reverently. Mmm. . .donuts. Was there ever anything else of human invention so perfect? Sprinkles. Yummm. . .
She sighs and sits across from me, leaning back in her chair tiredly. "So where did Milly go?" she asks as I am about to take a bite of my first donut.
"She said something about dinner shopping. I hope she hurries," I say carefully. Milly and I had rehearsed this beforehand. Truthfully, she was at the bank babysitting the workers' children. Perfect job for her it turns out. Me on the other hand. . . Anyway, back to the donut. "Mmm. . ."
"Honestly," she says, "I don't know how you can do nothing and be always hungry."
"That's not fair," I protest. "You know I do odd jobs here and there. I changed that lightbulb last week. And I've got that job in town as a bodyguard now."
Meryl chuckled dryly. "Yeah, yeah. I remember. But you don't really *do* anything as a bodyguard. All you have to do is say 'I am the great Vash the Stampede' and they fall over their feet trying to avoid you. And as for that lightbulb, you were the one who broke it."
"It's not my fault I'm famous. And I'll have you know that lightbulb deliberately swung at me when I reached for it."
"Yeah, yeah," she grins mockingly. "So who are you guarding this time? The banker? The mayor's pet?"
"A woman."
Meryl immediately stiffens and I could see the wheels in her head turning like the wheel on a music box, probably cheerfully chiming *Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert after all!*
"Oh?" she asks nonchalantly. "Who?"
"Someone of no consequence," I say, the donut again on the way to my mouth.
"Who?" she asks more forcefully, a glint in her eye. Fearing a bonk to the head, I stop the donut's progress.
"Do you really want to know?" I grin.
"Well, yeah," she said.
"Why?"
"So I can warn her you're a pervert," she adds in a nasty snicker.
"Meryl!" I gape in shock. "I would never hit on the mayor's grandmother unless she tried something with me first," I deadpan.
"I wouldn't put it past you," she chuckles and I swear I can sense relief in her voice.
The donut again tries to make the trip to my mouth and Meryl groans tiredly, "Argh! Long day today."
Cue Vash to exit with donuts. "Really?" my mouth automatically says. Damn sensitive heart. "You want to talk about it?" Huh? Stop it! Cue Vash to exit with donuts! Donuts!
"Nah. Just complaining," she sighs and just then she leans further back in her chair, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head tiredly. And my jaw drops. I mean it *drops*. I thought I felt the table against my chin. That's how low it dropped. For you see – remember my dream about the kitchen? – my dreaming mind had triggered my waking mind into remembering a memory that was never real; a memory of her so close that her warmth stayed on my hands and her scent lingered in my head. It wasn't anything she'd said or done to trigger this pseudo-memory, it was my perverse mind just reminding me that I was in love (and maybe a little in lust) with this woman. (Insults. Her. Me. Kitchen. Then in a voice of calm resignation and firm resolution, Vash I love you. Kitchen table. 'Nuff said.)
My mouth is still open and I am desperately trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her. The thing to do at this point would have been to look decently away and not stare. But dammit, I just can't seem to move my head. My neck has decided to bolt itself in place, my jaw is refusing to move, and my eyes are glued to her.
As she arches her back, her white top presses against her, outlining the absolute perfect smallness of her breasts. Her head falls back exposing that delicate throat and the tiny throbbing pulse just beneath her smooth skin. Her eyes close and her mouth smiles in satisfaction at the stretch and she makes this noise of perfect abandon. And I – I am mentally finishing that dream. Imagining her in that same position beneath me. In complete abandon. Moaning my name as her orgasm hits her. Oh dear. Turn away, Vash. Turn away now before she catches you. Save yourself!
Meryl opens her eyes and finds me staring and of course freaks out.
"What?" she says, drawing back suspiciously, the legs of the chair thumping loudly against the kitchen floor.
And I remember that I am supposed to be eating donuts.
I turn away and quickly arrange my face into a controlled mask of cheerfulness. You are not blushing, Vash. You are not aroused as hell. You did not look as if you wanted to jump her. Donuts, Vash. Think donuts. Be the donut.
"Vash?"
"Huh?" I fake vapid cheerfulness and cram the donut into my mouth, avoiding her eyes and concentrating on the sweetness of the sprinkles. Somehow it feels really dry against my tongue and the sugar doesn't even register in my brain.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?" she mumbles after a minute.
I mumble something that sounds like a protest about her interrupting my eating.
"How do you get air between the donuts?"
I smile at her and mumble, "Mmphbsdts."
How could I be so stupid to let her see my need for her? I know she and I will never happen. She's human, I'm a Plant. She's perfect, and I'm scarred beyond repair. And she, well, she doesn't exactly hate me, but I don't think she likes me either. Tolerant is what I'd call her. Why am I even daring to hope?
"Mphnut?" I offer.
"You're hopeless," she grumbles. "I'm going to go find Milly and make sure she doesn't buy only pudding."
Shaking her head, she leaves the kitchen and I smile absently after her, her name on the point of leaving my tongue and the confession with it. *Meryl I love you!* But of course I don't say it. She'd hit me on the head. And besides, the damn donuts are in the way.
Argh! Donuts. I need another box of donuts. And a cold shower.