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: *looking furtively around* Uh. . .hi readers and reviewers alike. Shhh! I'm hiding from all the reviewers threatening me with everything from rusty spoons to flame throwers. I tried hiding in another fic but the same threats exist there too. *whining like Vash* I'm trying! Really I'm trying! But the threats from my professors have also become scary too. So the procrastination/writing had to be put on hold a bit. Plus I'm a little stressed out with school. But here's a little something to keep the threats on the "down low". Yo! *giggle* Why can't you threaten me with chocolate chip cookies or cute bishounen serving my every need? Like doing my essays for example? I personally think that may be more effective. *grin*
Abby-chantheblackcat: Narcoleptic! Yup! That's the word of the day.
Faery Goddyss: Tada! An update!
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Thanks! It's all good then!
NeptuneHelena: "Intelligent kind of funny"? *curtsy* Why thank you! *screaming at professors* See? See? I AM intelligent!
Samara Aurora Randolph: I've seen Zoolander but I don't remember that line. I just remember the little, itty bitty, teeny weeny cell phone he used. And playing at the gas station.
Roganu-chan: I hope you feel better Roganu-chan! I coughed in sympathy for you when I read your review. As to the idea. . .well, thanks. But I'm sticking to channeling Vash. It was his POV that I began with and it will be his that I will end with.
harakiri: Merci! "Thanks" in Russian (---Google gave me weird characters which Fanfic.net does not support so I translated if for you.). Gracias! And Arigato gozaimasu!
Just A Weirdo: Can't help you with the waiting bit! *grin* I do have a couple of suggestions while you wait: 1) eat ice cream, 2) watch Fushigi Yuugi, 3) go read my other fic, 4) do all at once while rubbing your tummy and patting your head and saying "Vash loves Meryl" as fast as you can. Bwahahahahaha!
Tough Cookie: Oh yes she does! Meryl certainly does!
Jaded Ayumi: I'M TRYING!
Kikanemi: *another curtsy* Huh? Curtsys? Why am I curtsying? But thanks.
Foxy_Kikyou's_Destroyer: *grin* Rocks, huh? *dum chicka dum dum* Oops. . .wrong theme music. Uh, thanks.
ThistleDemon: Down, demon, down! *noticing whining from hamper* And maybe you shouldn't stuff Vash in the hamper like that. He is kind of tall and all. You could always try tying him to a bed. *grin* Yup. That's what I would do.
the old fart: Age? What does age have to do with fun? Or being a child at heart? Heh, I should be working too and paying bills and doing homework. But do I? Do I? I think not. *Woman with blonde hair and slightly MarilyMonroe-esque pushes author aside* "Hello. I'm Rain's fourth grade teacher. As to her spelling and grammar, you're welcome. I taught her that. I will now sweep out of this fic like Gloria Swanson." *looking after fourth grade teacher* I. . .well, okay.
wheelers_hanyou: Welcome back to the story!
And now. . .I'm tired. So no fanfiction. Just kidding! Here you are! It's more brain vomit. Enjoy!
************
Chapter 8
"Mr. Stampede?"
I hide the package I had been carrying behind my back and call "Yo!" to the mayor as he walks into his office.
He extends his hand to me solemnly and I have to wipe my hand hastily of powdered sugar. "I wanted to thank you for saving Grandma Mary Sue" – he frowned for a moment, unsure of whether or not this was a good thing – "and to send you home early."
"Huh?"
"The board of directors is having a meeting."
I nod. So much the better! I'm feeling hungry anyway and Meryl would be home soon. I can wait for her in the kitchen and surprise her. Maybe even jump behind her, grab the donuts she's bound to be bringing, tickle her and run away as fast as I can before she can catch me. Maybe I can even squeeze a hug in before she realizes what I'm doing. Ahhh yes. A hug from Meryl. (Hehehehe.) I grin momentarily at the amusing possibility and catch the eye of Grandma Mary Sue watching me with laughter dancing around the corners of her eyes. Damn. Forgot about her. Even knowing I was going to regret it, I ask anyway. "What about Grandma?"
The mayor looked at the harmless looking woman sitting calmly in her wheelchair beside me. She looked a little flushed and her cheeks were suspiciously powdery. (She and I had just arm-wrestled for a box of powdered donuts. Guess who won? I made her share though.) "She's knitting today," he said stiffly. "And _supposed_ to be remembering that there is no food allowed in the bank because she is also part of the board of directors that instituted that rule." From the corner of my eye I could see Grandma as she stuck out her tongue at the mayor.
I conceal the grin on my face behind a cough.
"Well, Vash. Thanks for the lunch and dropping me off," she says seriously. "But I have to do business now." She made a face in disgust and then looked at me dead on and winked. "Don't forget the bet tonight."
"Bet? What bet?" The mayor's voice rose in suspicion.
"The drinking bet, of course," Grandma says calmly. "If he wins, I keep my mouth shut. If I win," she paused and laughed evilly, "He has to tell _the girl_."
"What? The girl? Bet?" At the first sign of purple on the mayor's face, I slide past him and run out the door, hoping that maybe *she* would forget the bet. I don't really mind losing money to her. She never collects. It was the damned hangover the day after that always got me. That, plus I don't know how I was going to explain to Meryl that she was part of a drinking bet. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut the second time she said, Want to bet? Damn it Vash! Why can't you learn?
*******
"Milly? What are you doing here?"
"The bank sent me home early too," she said, not in the least bit puzzled why.
I sniff the air. "Smells good. What are you cooking?"
"Dinner. Sempai and I had to play jankenpon for it. She insisted."
"Meryl's here?" Damn. There goes all my evil plotting for a hug.
Milly grinned. "Were you going to wait for her, too?"
I chose to ignore that comment and said instead, "You lost, huh?"
Her grin widened even more (if that was possible with Milly). "No, I won."
"What does the loser have to do?"
"Change Mr. Knives' bandages."
"Ah."
"I'm almost done. Want to take a plate up to Mr. Knives?"
"Sure!" I smile, hoping she hurries before those two glare each other to death.
"Okay! Let me just get a tray together. Hmm. You think Mr. Knives would like a flower?"
Sure. If it had thorns he could use to cut someone's throat with. "Sure, Milly." I look around the kitchen for the other unmistakable smell that wafts just beneath the aroma of Milly's cooking.
"You must be looking for donuts," she says without turning, digging through grocery bags on the countertop. "Oh here it is!"
"The donuts?"
"A daisy," she giggles, holding up a half wilted specimen. "It might cheer him up!"
Yeah. That and not to fall asleep in the middle of glaring contests with Meryl. "Yeah, I'm sure it will," I say dryly. But the irony is lost on Milly. "Did you happen to see a box of donuts in there Milly?"
"Oh those? They're in the bottom of the bag."
I reach for a grocery bag eagerly but Milly whacks my hand lightly. I look at her, surprised and give her a mock hurt look. "Awww, Milly! I'm hungry!"
"I'm sure Mr. Knives is too," she said.
With hands more careful than what one would expect from such a woman, Milly ladled a rich stew into the plates she had prepared. Then off to the side, in a jaunty little vase that did not fit its intended receiver, went the unwilling daisy.
I made my way up the stairs quickly, thinking of donuts and pause for a moment in the upper hallway. There is absolute silence. Then. . .a growl of menace.
I run quickly to Knives's room expecting horror, carnage, Knives with multiple bumps on his head. . .and come upon the scene with relief.
They were glaring. That's all they were doing. Knives was glaring at Meryl; Meryl was glaring at Knives. She was silently changing his bandages (though I don't know how she could do that with her eyes boring into his skull) and he was glaring at her while holding still. From what I could see of it, neither was winning.
"Hi guys!" I say loudly to break the tension.
Two sets of glares suddenly transfer to me and I stagger backwards. Whew! Those two were a double menace to society.
"What?" Knives snapped.
"Dinner," I grin. "Food. Hungry?" Because I am.
"Hmph," Meryl says and then their eyes whipped back to each other and the glaring continued.
*Sigh.* Oh well.
I move forward to stand next to Meryl, holding the tray. Knives momentarily transfers the glare (the one that says 'oh I am going to hurt you so much you bastard not worthy to be called a Plant') that he had been directing at Meryl to me. Meryl shifts a little in front of me to give him a full on glare back and I automatically move the weight of the tray to one hand to avoid spilling it. (Wow! It was almost like she was protecting me. Awww! I think Meryl might like me! *cough, cough* Damn it Vash, concentrate! You know she can't ever love you. Plant? Human? Remember? Perfect? Okay, stop being angsty! Just enjoy the friendship you have with her! Concentrate! And stop screaming inside your own head!) My arm brushes against her as she moves and sends delightful little shivers down my spine and I cannot help but smile. It is strangely surreal. Here I was thinking thoughts about Meryl and the way she made my life so much better, and all the while we were in the presence of my abnormally psychotic brother. Unreal _and_ surreal.
"What are you grinning at?" Knives snaps at me when he notices that I am smiling.
"Nothing. You're adorable when you're angry."
"Shut up, Vash. I swear if I had my gun," he begins and then yelps out in pain. "Damn it, woman! Can't you even tie a bandage right?"
"Ooops," Meryl says sweetly. "Did I pull a little too hard?"
Knives blinked at her before resuming the glare. Too late. She saw. Meryl smiled smugly. Game over. Meryl one, Knives zero. Ding, ding! Round two shortly to follow.
Meryl finishes with the bandages and ties the knots at the end, as carefully as she had tied mine. Her hands move deftly and gently over his shoulder to check the bandage for tightness and suddenly something instinctual and possessive stirs inside me and I curve forward into Meryl, looking down at Knives. _Mine_, the word echoes inside my own brain. Huh? Jealousy? Whoa! Down, boy. Knives is not interested in Meryl in that way. And she . . . she's not yours. No matter how much you want her to be.
Knives's face looks into mine with hard scrutiny. Then he makes a sound of disgust. "Why the hell don't you just take her already and be done with it?" he snaps without preamble.
What? Did he just say what I thought he said? "Wha – What?" I splutter.
"You heard me," he spits out maliciously. "Take her. So she can shut up and then I can kill her. I know you want to. I can see it in you."
Yup. He said what I thought he said. I soooo want to melt into the floor at this point. But then that leaves Meryl all alone with the psycho. Oh no. Meryl!
She has turned apoplectic beside me. I am dangerously aware that her hands are clenching and unclenching. Damn it, Knives! She's going to go for one of our throats first. I know she is. I'd prefer she go for yours but I know she'll go for mine by default.
"Just do it and be done with her," Knives continues relentlessly. "I'm sure she won't complain. In fact she might even like it. If it weren't so disgusting, I for one, would – "
"Why you bastard, I'll – " Meryl begins, lunging towards Knives.
I dump the tray hurriedly by his bedside table, sloshing stew, and I literally drag her backwards towards the door, laughing idiotically and desperately babbling. "Hahahahaha! Ignore him, Meryl. He's an injured man. He's sick remember? Remember? Doesn't know what he's saying!"
"I'm an injured man," Knives mocks. "Yeah, Meryl, watch it. You don't want my brother punishing you, do you?" Then his lips tilted upward in malicious glee. "Or do you?"
"Hahahaha!" I laugh loudly to try and drown out his voice. "He's kidding! Just kidding!"
I slam the door on Knives' oddly triumphant laughter before it gets cut off with a snore. Whew! Or maybe not.
Meryl's presence beside me is enormously palpable.
I force myself to turn to her. Force myself to meet her eyes. "Meryl, I'm sorry about – "
"Shut up," she says quietly. Her face is flushed and she doesn't even look at me. "I am not, ever, ever, ever going to go in there again. Understand?"
"Uh, yes. Okay."
"Good," she says and she turns with a curse and stalks away.
Well that went well. I turn to the closed door and whisper savagely. "Thanks, Knives. Thanks a lot."
Great. Those dreams had now less than a pudding cup's chance in Milly's hands of *ever* coming true. Ever.
********************
A/N: Sorry if that was short and stupid. I told you I was stressed!
Author's Notes: *looking furtively around* Uh. . .hi readers and reviewers alike. Shhh! I'm hiding from all the reviewers threatening me with everything from rusty spoons to flame throwers. I tried hiding in another fic but the same threats exist there too. *whining like Vash* I'm trying! Really I'm trying! But the threats from my professors have also become scary too. So the procrastination/writing had to be put on hold a bit. Plus I'm a little stressed out with school. But here's a little something to keep the threats on the "down low". Yo! *giggle* Why can't you threaten me with chocolate chip cookies or cute bishounen serving my every need? Like doing my essays for example? I personally think that may be more effective. *grin*
Abby-chantheblackcat: Narcoleptic! Yup! That's the word of the day.
Faery Goddyss: Tada! An update!
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Thanks! It's all good then!
NeptuneHelena: "Intelligent kind of funny"? *curtsy* Why thank you! *screaming at professors* See? See? I AM intelligent!
Samara Aurora Randolph: I've seen Zoolander but I don't remember that line. I just remember the little, itty bitty, teeny weeny cell phone he used. And playing at the gas station.
Roganu-chan: I hope you feel better Roganu-chan! I coughed in sympathy for you when I read your review. As to the idea. . .well, thanks. But I'm sticking to channeling Vash. It was his POV that I began with and it will be his that I will end with.
harakiri: Merci! "Thanks" in Russian (---Google gave me weird characters which Fanfic.net does not support so I translated if for you.). Gracias! And Arigato gozaimasu!
Just A Weirdo: Can't help you with the waiting bit! *grin* I do have a couple of suggestions while you wait: 1) eat ice cream, 2) watch Fushigi Yuugi, 3) go read my other fic, 4) do all at once while rubbing your tummy and patting your head and saying "Vash loves Meryl" as fast as you can. Bwahahahahaha!
Tough Cookie: Oh yes she does! Meryl certainly does!
Jaded Ayumi: I'M TRYING!
Kikanemi: *another curtsy* Huh? Curtsys? Why am I curtsying? But thanks.
Foxy_Kikyou's_Destroyer: *grin* Rocks, huh? *dum chicka dum dum* Oops. . .wrong theme music. Uh, thanks.
ThistleDemon: Down, demon, down! *noticing whining from hamper* And maybe you shouldn't stuff Vash in the hamper like that. He is kind of tall and all. You could always try tying him to a bed. *grin* Yup. That's what I would do.
the old fart: Age? What does age have to do with fun? Or being a child at heart? Heh, I should be working too and paying bills and doing homework. But do I? Do I? I think not. *Woman with blonde hair and slightly MarilyMonroe-esque pushes author aside* "Hello. I'm Rain's fourth grade teacher. As to her spelling and grammar, you're welcome. I taught her that. I will now sweep out of this fic like Gloria Swanson." *looking after fourth grade teacher* I. . .well, okay.
wheelers_hanyou: Welcome back to the story!
And now. . .I'm tired. So no fanfiction. Just kidding! Here you are! It's more brain vomit. Enjoy!
************
Chapter 8
"Mr. Stampede?"
I hide the package I had been carrying behind my back and call "Yo!" to the mayor as he walks into his office.
He extends his hand to me solemnly and I have to wipe my hand hastily of powdered sugar. "I wanted to thank you for saving Grandma Mary Sue" – he frowned for a moment, unsure of whether or not this was a good thing – "and to send you home early."
"Huh?"
"The board of directors is having a meeting."
I nod. So much the better! I'm feeling hungry anyway and Meryl would be home soon. I can wait for her in the kitchen and surprise her. Maybe even jump behind her, grab the donuts she's bound to be bringing, tickle her and run away as fast as I can before she can catch me. Maybe I can even squeeze a hug in before she realizes what I'm doing. Ahhh yes. A hug from Meryl. (Hehehehe.) I grin momentarily at the amusing possibility and catch the eye of Grandma Mary Sue watching me with laughter dancing around the corners of her eyes. Damn. Forgot about her. Even knowing I was going to regret it, I ask anyway. "What about Grandma?"
The mayor looked at the harmless looking woman sitting calmly in her wheelchair beside me. She looked a little flushed and her cheeks were suspiciously powdery. (She and I had just arm-wrestled for a box of powdered donuts. Guess who won? I made her share though.) "She's knitting today," he said stiffly. "And _supposed_ to be remembering that there is no food allowed in the bank because she is also part of the board of directors that instituted that rule." From the corner of my eye I could see Grandma as she stuck out her tongue at the mayor.
I conceal the grin on my face behind a cough.
"Well, Vash. Thanks for the lunch and dropping me off," she says seriously. "But I have to do business now." She made a face in disgust and then looked at me dead on and winked. "Don't forget the bet tonight."
"Bet? What bet?" The mayor's voice rose in suspicion.
"The drinking bet, of course," Grandma says calmly. "If he wins, I keep my mouth shut. If I win," she paused and laughed evilly, "He has to tell _the girl_."
"What? The girl? Bet?" At the first sign of purple on the mayor's face, I slide past him and run out the door, hoping that maybe *she* would forget the bet. I don't really mind losing money to her. She never collects. It was the damned hangover the day after that always got me. That, plus I don't know how I was going to explain to Meryl that she was part of a drinking bet. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut the second time she said, Want to bet? Damn it Vash! Why can't you learn?
*******
"Milly? What are you doing here?"
"The bank sent me home early too," she said, not in the least bit puzzled why.
I sniff the air. "Smells good. What are you cooking?"
"Dinner. Sempai and I had to play jankenpon for it. She insisted."
"Meryl's here?" Damn. There goes all my evil plotting for a hug.
Milly grinned. "Were you going to wait for her, too?"
I chose to ignore that comment and said instead, "You lost, huh?"
Her grin widened even more (if that was possible with Milly). "No, I won."
"What does the loser have to do?"
"Change Mr. Knives' bandages."
"Ah."
"I'm almost done. Want to take a plate up to Mr. Knives?"
"Sure!" I smile, hoping she hurries before those two glare each other to death.
"Okay! Let me just get a tray together. Hmm. You think Mr. Knives would like a flower?"
Sure. If it had thorns he could use to cut someone's throat with. "Sure, Milly." I look around the kitchen for the other unmistakable smell that wafts just beneath the aroma of Milly's cooking.
"You must be looking for donuts," she says without turning, digging through grocery bags on the countertop. "Oh here it is!"
"The donuts?"
"A daisy," she giggles, holding up a half wilted specimen. "It might cheer him up!"
Yeah. That and not to fall asleep in the middle of glaring contests with Meryl. "Yeah, I'm sure it will," I say dryly. But the irony is lost on Milly. "Did you happen to see a box of donuts in there Milly?"
"Oh those? They're in the bottom of the bag."
I reach for a grocery bag eagerly but Milly whacks my hand lightly. I look at her, surprised and give her a mock hurt look. "Awww, Milly! I'm hungry!"
"I'm sure Mr. Knives is too," she said.
With hands more careful than what one would expect from such a woman, Milly ladled a rich stew into the plates she had prepared. Then off to the side, in a jaunty little vase that did not fit its intended receiver, went the unwilling daisy.
I made my way up the stairs quickly, thinking of donuts and pause for a moment in the upper hallway. There is absolute silence. Then. . .a growl of menace.
I run quickly to Knives's room expecting horror, carnage, Knives with multiple bumps on his head. . .and come upon the scene with relief.
They were glaring. That's all they were doing. Knives was glaring at Meryl; Meryl was glaring at Knives. She was silently changing his bandages (though I don't know how she could do that with her eyes boring into his skull) and he was glaring at her while holding still. From what I could see of it, neither was winning.
"Hi guys!" I say loudly to break the tension.
Two sets of glares suddenly transfer to me and I stagger backwards. Whew! Those two were a double menace to society.
"What?" Knives snapped.
"Dinner," I grin. "Food. Hungry?" Because I am.
"Hmph," Meryl says and then their eyes whipped back to each other and the glaring continued.
*Sigh.* Oh well.
I move forward to stand next to Meryl, holding the tray. Knives momentarily transfers the glare (the one that says 'oh I am going to hurt you so much you bastard not worthy to be called a Plant') that he had been directing at Meryl to me. Meryl shifts a little in front of me to give him a full on glare back and I automatically move the weight of the tray to one hand to avoid spilling it. (Wow! It was almost like she was protecting me. Awww! I think Meryl might like me! *cough, cough* Damn it Vash, concentrate! You know she can't ever love you. Plant? Human? Remember? Perfect? Okay, stop being angsty! Just enjoy the friendship you have with her! Concentrate! And stop screaming inside your own head!) My arm brushes against her as she moves and sends delightful little shivers down my spine and I cannot help but smile. It is strangely surreal. Here I was thinking thoughts about Meryl and the way she made my life so much better, and all the while we were in the presence of my abnormally psychotic brother. Unreal _and_ surreal.
"What are you grinning at?" Knives snaps at me when he notices that I am smiling.
"Nothing. You're adorable when you're angry."
"Shut up, Vash. I swear if I had my gun," he begins and then yelps out in pain. "Damn it, woman! Can't you even tie a bandage right?"
"Ooops," Meryl says sweetly. "Did I pull a little too hard?"
Knives blinked at her before resuming the glare. Too late. She saw. Meryl smiled smugly. Game over. Meryl one, Knives zero. Ding, ding! Round two shortly to follow.
Meryl finishes with the bandages and ties the knots at the end, as carefully as she had tied mine. Her hands move deftly and gently over his shoulder to check the bandage for tightness and suddenly something instinctual and possessive stirs inside me and I curve forward into Meryl, looking down at Knives. _Mine_, the word echoes inside my own brain. Huh? Jealousy? Whoa! Down, boy. Knives is not interested in Meryl in that way. And she . . . she's not yours. No matter how much you want her to be.
Knives's face looks into mine with hard scrutiny. Then he makes a sound of disgust. "Why the hell don't you just take her already and be done with it?" he snaps without preamble.
What? Did he just say what I thought he said? "Wha – What?" I splutter.
"You heard me," he spits out maliciously. "Take her. So she can shut up and then I can kill her. I know you want to. I can see it in you."
Yup. He said what I thought he said. I soooo want to melt into the floor at this point. But then that leaves Meryl all alone with the psycho. Oh no. Meryl!
She has turned apoplectic beside me. I am dangerously aware that her hands are clenching and unclenching. Damn it, Knives! She's going to go for one of our throats first. I know she is. I'd prefer she go for yours but I know she'll go for mine by default.
"Just do it and be done with her," Knives continues relentlessly. "I'm sure she won't complain. In fact she might even like it. If it weren't so disgusting, I for one, would – "
"Why you bastard, I'll – " Meryl begins, lunging towards Knives.
I dump the tray hurriedly by his bedside table, sloshing stew, and I literally drag her backwards towards the door, laughing idiotically and desperately babbling. "Hahahahaha! Ignore him, Meryl. He's an injured man. He's sick remember? Remember? Doesn't know what he's saying!"
"I'm an injured man," Knives mocks. "Yeah, Meryl, watch it. You don't want my brother punishing you, do you?" Then his lips tilted upward in malicious glee. "Or do you?"
"Hahahaha!" I laugh loudly to try and drown out his voice. "He's kidding! Just kidding!"
I slam the door on Knives' oddly triumphant laughter before it gets cut off with a snore. Whew! Or maybe not.
Meryl's presence beside me is enormously palpable.
I force myself to turn to her. Force myself to meet her eyes. "Meryl, I'm sorry about – "
"Shut up," she says quietly. Her face is flushed and she doesn't even look at me. "I am not, ever, ever, ever going to go in there again. Understand?"
"Uh, yes. Okay."
"Good," she says and she turns with a curse and stalks away.
Well that went well. I turn to the closed door and whisper savagely. "Thanks, Knives. Thanks a lot."
Great. Those dreams had now less than a pudding cup's chance in Milly's hands of *ever* coming true. Ever.
********************
A/N: Sorry if that was short and stupid. I told you I was stressed!