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: Hello my faithful and patient readers! I'm sorry it took so long this time. I've been stressed. Really. Too much school, too many midterms, not enough sleep, overdosing on caffeine, damn professors insisting that I don't really need sleep and are now assigning even more stuff for me to read. . .*sigh*. . .but you don't need my griping. So brief notes follow and then relentlessy forward we go.
NeptuneHelena: Thank you for your support! Sadly, I don't think I can scream at my professors anymore. They just come up with newer forms of torture. Like "fun surprise" exams and "cool reading assignments." Grrr...
Alpha Draconis1: I don't think Vash lending his gun to Meryl would be a good idea. Meryl might actually use it. *grin*
S-chan The Great: *looking curiously at pretty Ritalin pills* Hey, S-chan, that looks good. Would you mind sharing? I'll give you my sandwich!
Faery Goddyss: *sound of door opening at 7-11* Uh, I don't know why I heard that in my head when I read your review. But. . .here's the next chapter!
Roganu-chan: *bonking own head* Oh! I'm sorry Roganu-chan. That's what you meant when you left that last review huh? I'll think about it. *mumbling* Stupid Rain. . .you've hurt a reviewer's feelings and now someone else might be leaving you death threats. Greeeaaaat.
Mooshie: Thank you! And now, as a reward, a cookie, er chapter. Yeah!
wheelers_hanyou: Oh yes, Vash is adorable isn't he? And a jealous Vash. . .*swoons in fangirl ecstasy* Er. . .yeah. He is adorable.
Arafel: You too? You want Meryl to beat the snot out of Knives? Does Knives even have snot as we know it?
Tough Cookie: *grin* I guess I should put another disclaimer in that chapter, huh? "Warning! Drink liquids at your own peril while reading this chapter." *laughs maniacally*
Scarlet Rurouni: Bet? What bet? *sly grin* Want to make a bet?. . .With Grandma?
the old fart: Well thanks! *sweetly* Would you tell my professors that? Or write it on letterhead? *grin*
Bowserbabe: You're welcome and okay!
julianne athae: *handing Magic Marker (TM)* You said it was the "highlight" of your day. Get it? Get it? *grumble* Okay, so I'm not so funny in real life.
Alrighty then. I hope I didn't miss anyone. Now on to the fiction brought on by a mind on the verge of a psychotic episode. Bwahahahahaha!
***************
Chapter 9
I have some bad news. Yesterday, the bank had another accident. Not my fault this time! I swear! I was nowhere near the vault and Milly was out with the kids. It exploded on its own. Really! I personally think it was Grandma Mary Sue's fault (With her gun under that wheelchair and her and I thumb-wrestling, anything could have happened!). No one is pointing any fingers because they can't prove anything – though some of the bank's board members are twitching to just point fingers at me and if it weren't for Grandma's glare (and notorious aim), they would have done it already. Still, a decision has been made. The bank is closing. I guess the third time was the last straw. So let me relive it for you while I'm standing here waiting for Grandma and the mayor to leave (since after today I won't have a job and basically no life) how it all happened. . .
***
Like I said, Grandma and I had been thumb-wrestling. Not for donuts this time – although those were certainly in the room – but so I could get out of the bet we had made a week before. She was still insisting that I tell Meryl that I liked her and I was still insisting that eww, gross, girls are yucky. Of course Grandma didn't believe me and reminded me that the bet had been fair and square. I whined that the bet had been made in a moment of sheer and utter stupidity. Plus I was completely plastered out of my mind at the time and vulnerable. She had responded with a nasty snicker and said, Want to make another bet to cancel this one out? And I had said – what else? – Okay, Grandma.
I know, I know. 'Typical', Meryl would say. Heck, I can almost hear her voice in my head. But I know damn well, I wasn't going to tell her. Can you imagine that?
Me: Hey Meryl, I'm in love with you. Do you love me?
Meryl: Love you? The infamous Vash the Stampede aka stupid donut-eating, broom-headed, perverted idiot, who makes my daily life a living hell? Yeah right!
I admit that a response like that would hurt but what's worse could be incredulous laughter:
Me: Meryl, I love you.
Meryl: *choke* Hahahahahahahahahaha!
Me: Meryl? I said I love you.
Meryl: Hahahahahahaha!
Or worse:
Me: I love you.
Meryl: Aww, that's nice. But I can't love you.
Me: Why? What's wrong with me?
Meryl: Well for starters. . .
Or even worse yet:
Me: I love you, insurance girl.
Meryl: I love you too, Vash. But. . .only as a friend.
Me: Gaaaaaaaaah!
But I'm rambling. Back to the excitement of thumb-wrestling. . .
Grandma was half winning. Not because I was being kind but because the woman has a grip like iron. I know I could very easily snap her in two like a stick. But I'm not mean and I'm not the psychotic brother. I am, however, Vash the Stampede. So I was going to let her lose in classic style. Gently. With love and peace.
So I was trying to gain the upper hand, er, thumb, when she did this little twist thing and Bang!
One moment there was the bank, the donuts, and the vault. Just fine and dandy. And the next moment, obliterated donuts, smoke in the bank, the vault exploded. For the third time.
"Grandma Mary Sue!" the mayor's voice thundered loud and clear from his office across the building. "Emergency meeting! NOW!"
And Grandma Mary Sue, looking very contrite and sheepish, slunk out of the room, following the sound of her grandson's irate voice.
Two hours later they came out from the meeting room to a hushed and expectant audience. The mayor's face had acquired a tint of purple. The board of directors were hissing en masse, fingers twitching to point at me and not daring. And Grandma Mary Sue was wearing a look of such repentance that I knew something was up.
"Bad news, Vash," Grandma said.
Uh-oh. "I guess this means I'm out of a job, huh, Grandma?" I ask with a grin that I didn't really feel.
"Yup. Sorry, Vash, but I guess this branch of the bank is closing. It's time to build a new one."
"Well," I say.
"Well," she says.
Then I smile and hold my hand out to her.
"I'm glad I got to know you, Mary Sue Slugger."
"Same here, Vash the Stampede."
***
Sniff. Sniff.
No. I'm not crying. It's the smoke from the still smoldering vault. Really. (You'd think after one night in the air, the vault would already be cool! But no, it's still smoking and hurting my eyes.)
"So you came to say goodbye, after all," Grandma says as she wheels her way into the ready wagon. Their bags are packed already and the mayor has hired a team of thomases to take them to the town where the new branch is being built. It turns out that their employees stay with them. For life. A sort of family thing. Kind of nice in a way.
Slowly, the bank was emptying. Two wagons had already left this morning with the still hissing board of directors. Poor Milly was at the moment saying goodbye to all the children she had taken care of and probably crying her eyes out. And here I was. Not crying. Really.
"You came to make sure I really left, huh?" Grandma insists jokingly.
"Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you're finally out of my spiky hair," I say as my way of goodbye.
Grandma Mary Sue chortled in a most unladylike way and fished two bottles of beer from a bag behind her. She tossed me one, and cheered mischievously, "Bottoms up!" So while the mayor looked on half disgusted and half amused, she and I shared one last beer together. "Face it, Vash," she cackled. "You're going to miss me!"
"Grandma," the mayor whined. "You're making a scene!"
"Who gives a sh – "
"Grandma Slugger," I interrupted quickly, "It was fun having to guard you. Even if you always won the drinking matches."
She grinned at me suddenly, "Want to make one last bet?"
The mayor groaned then. "Please god, no. No more bets. No more hangovers. It's bad enough we've lost a bank. I don't want your cranky headache in the morning."
Grandma Mary Sue looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. "You should try it sometime, you know. It might improve your management skills."
I turn quickly away to conceal my smile before turning back to her with a serious look. "Well," I say, extending my hand to her solemnly. "It's been fun, Grandma."
"Hell yeah!" she whoops. And taking my hand in hers, she winks, and says, "Except for the sex, you really were the best bodyguard ever."
"Wha – what?" the mayor sputters.
"Take a pill, Clarence," Grandma says sharply. "It was a joke. Better yet, take a drink. Take two. One for me and one for you. Heh. I rhyme today!"
I wave to the two of them as they set out on their way, Grandma waving over her shoulder. This time I do not conceal the grin from my face, though my cheeks felt considerably pinker after that last comment. Leave it to Grandma Mary Sue to say something like that. But what she had said was true though. (Not the sex part, you pervert!) It was true that I was going to miss her.
Just before the wagon disappears out of town forever, Grandma leans out of her wheelchair one last time, turns to me with a wink and shouts, "I bet that she loves you too, Vash the Stampede!"
I only grin wider at her, hoping that people aren't staring at my face. Because the way it felt just now, I was probably red as my coat, burning with embarrassment.
*****
Author's Notes: On a lighter note. . .only a month and a half of school left. Yes!
Author's Notes: Hello my faithful and patient readers! I'm sorry it took so long this time. I've been stressed. Really. Too much school, too many midterms, not enough sleep, overdosing on caffeine, damn professors insisting that I don't really need sleep and are now assigning even more stuff for me to read. . .*sigh*. . .but you don't need my griping. So brief notes follow and then relentlessy forward we go.
NeptuneHelena: Thank you for your support! Sadly, I don't think I can scream at my professors anymore. They just come up with newer forms of torture. Like "fun surprise" exams and "cool reading assignments." Grrr...
Alpha Draconis1: I don't think Vash lending his gun to Meryl would be a good idea. Meryl might actually use it. *grin*
S-chan The Great: *looking curiously at pretty Ritalin pills* Hey, S-chan, that looks good. Would you mind sharing? I'll give you my sandwich!
Faery Goddyss: *sound of door opening at 7-11* Uh, I don't know why I heard that in my head when I read your review. But. . .here's the next chapter!
Roganu-chan: *bonking own head* Oh! I'm sorry Roganu-chan. That's what you meant when you left that last review huh? I'll think about it. *mumbling* Stupid Rain. . .you've hurt a reviewer's feelings and now someone else might be leaving you death threats. Greeeaaaat.
Mooshie: Thank you! And now, as a reward, a cookie, er chapter. Yeah!
wheelers_hanyou: Oh yes, Vash is adorable isn't he? And a jealous Vash. . .*swoons in fangirl ecstasy* Er. . .yeah. He is adorable.
Arafel: You too? You want Meryl to beat the snot out of Knives? Does Knives even have snot as we know it?
Tough Cookie: *grin* I guess I should put another disclaimer in that chapter, huh? "Warning! Drink liquids at your own peril while reading this chapter." *laughs maniacally*
Scarlet Rurouni: Bet? What bet? *sly grin* Want to make a bet?. . .With Grandma?
the old fart: Well thanks! *sweetly* Would you tell my professors that? Or write it on letterhead? *grin*
Bowserbabe: You're welcome and okay!
julianne athae: *handing Magic Marker (TM)* You said it was the "highlight" of your day. Get it? Get it? *grumble* Okay, so I'm not so funny in real life.
Alrighty then. I hope I didn't miss anyone. Now on to the fiction brought on by a mind on the verge of a psychotic episode. Bwahahahahaha!
***************
Chapter 9
I have some bad news. Yesterday, the bank had another accident. Not my fault this time! I swear! I was nowhere near the vault and Milly was out with the kids. It exploded on its own. Really! I personally think it was Grandma Mary Sue's fault (With her gun under that wheelchair and her and I thumb-wrestling, anything could have happened!). No one is pointing any fingers because they can't prove anything – though some of the bank's board members are twitching to just point fingers at me and if it weren't for Grandma's glare (and notorious aim), they would have done it already. Still, a decision has been made. The bank is closing. I guess the third time was the last straw. So let me relive it for you while I'm standing here waiting for Grandma and the mayor to leave (since after today I won't have a job and basically no life) how it all happened. . .
***
Like I said, Grandma and I had been thumb-wrestling. Not for donuts this time – although those were certainly in the room – but so I could get out of the bet we had made a week before. She was still insisting that I tell Meryl that I liked her and I was still insisting that eww, gross, girls are yucky. Of course Grandma didn't believe me and reminded me that the bet had been fair and square. I whined that the bet had been made in a moment of sheer and utter stupidity. Plus I was completely plastered out of my mind at the time and vulnerable. She had responded with a nasty snicker and said, Want to make another bet to cancel this one out? And I had said – what else? – Okay, Grandma.
I know, I know. 'Typical', Meryl would say. Heck, I can almost hear her voice in my head. But I know damn well, I wasn't going to tell her. Can you imagine that?
Me: Hey Meryl, I'm in love with you. Do you love me?
Meryl: Love you? The infamous Vash the Stampede aka stupid donut-eating, broom-headed, perverted idiot, who makes my daily life a living hell? Yeah right!
I admit that a response like that would hurt but what's worse could be incredulous laughter:
Me: Meryl, I love you.
Meryl: *choke* Hahahahahahahahahaha!
Me: Meryl? I said I love you.
Meryl: Hahahahahahaha!
Or worse:
Me: I love you.
Meryl: Aww, that's nice. But I can't love you.
Me: Why? What's wrong with me?
Meryl: Well for starters. . .
Or even worse yet:
Me: I love you, insurance girl.
Meryl: I love you too, Vash. But. . .only as a friend.
Me: Gaaaaaaaaah!
But I'm rambling. Back to the excitement of thumb-wrestling. . .
Grandma was half winning. Not because I was being kind but because the woman has a grip like iron. I know I could very easily snap her in two like a stick. But I'm not mean and I'm not the psychotic brother. I am, however, Vash the Stampede. So I was going to let her lose in classic style. Gently. With love and peace.
So I was trying to gain the upper hand, er, thumb, when she did this little twist thing and Bang!
One moment there was the bank, the donuts, and the vault. Just fine and dandy. And the next moment, obliterated donuts, smoke in the bank, the vault exploded. For the third time.
"Grandma Mary Sue!" the mayor's voice thundered loud and clear from his office across the building. "Emergency meeting! NOW!"
And Grandma Mary Sue, looking very contrite and sheepish, slunk out of the room, following the sound of her grandson's irate voice.
Two hours later they came out from the meeting room to a hushed and expectant audience. The mayor's face had acquired a tint of purple. The board of directors were hissing en masse, fingers twitching to point at me and not daring. And Grandma Mary Sue was wearing a look of such repentance that I knew something was up.
"Bad news, Vash," Grandma said.
Uh-oh. "I guess this means I'm out of a job, huh, Grandma?" I ask with a grin that I didn't really feel.
"Yup. Sorry, Vash, but I guess this branch of the bank is closing. It's time to build a new one."
"Well," I say.
"Well," she says.
Then I smile and hold my hand out to her.
"I'm glad I got to know you, Mary Sue Slugger."
"Same here, Vash the Stampede."
***
Sniff. Sniff.
No. I'm not crying. It's the smoke from the still smoldering vault. Really. (You'd think after one night in the air, the vault would already be cool! But no, it's still smoking and hurting my eyes.)
"So you came to say goodbye, after all," Grandma says as she wheels her way into the ready wagon. Their bags are packed already and the mayor has hired a team of thomases to take them to the town where the new branch is being built. It turns out that their employees stay with them. For life. A sort of family thing. Kind of nice in a way.
Slowly, the bank was emptying. Two wagons had already left this morning with the still hissing board of directors. Poor Milly was at the moment saying goodbye to all the children she had taken care of and probably crying her eyes out. And here I was. Not crying. Really.
"You came to make sure I really left, huh?" Grandma insists jokingly.
"Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you're finally out of my spiky hair," I say as my way of goodbye.
Grandma Mary Sue chortled in a most unladylike way and fished two bottles of beer from a bag behind her. She tossed me one, and cheered mischievously, "Bottoms up!" So while the mayor looked on half disgusted and half amused, she and I shared one last beer together. "Face it, Vash," she cackled. "You're going to miss me!"
"Grandma," the mayor whined. "You're making a scene!"
"Who gives a sh – "
"Grandma Slugger," I interrupted quickly, "It was fun having to guard you. Even if you always won the drinking matches."
She grinned at me suddenly, "Want to make one last bet?"
The mayor groaned then. "Please god, no. No more bets. No more hangovers. It's bad enough we've lost a bank. I don't want your cranky headache in the morning."
Grandma Mary Sue looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. "You should try it sometime, you know. It might improve your management skills."
I turn quickly away to conceal my smile before turning back to her with a serious look. "Well," I say, extending my hand to her solemnly. "It's been fun, Grandma."
"Hell yeah!" she whoops. And taking my hand in hers, she winks, and says, "Except for the sex, you really were the best bodyguard ever."
"Wha – what?" the mayor sputters.
"Take a pill, Clarence," Grandma says sharply. "It was a joke. Better yet, take a drink. Take two. One for me and one for you. Heh. I rhyme today!"
I wave to the two of them as they set out on their way, Grandma waving over her shoulder. This time I do not conceal the grin from my face, though my cheeks felt considerably pinker after that last comment. Leave it to Grandma Mary Sue to say something like that. But what she had said was true though. (Not the sex part, you pervert!) It was true that I was going to miss her.
Just before the wagon disappears out of town forever, Grandma leans out of her wheelchair one last time, turns to me with a wink and shouts, "I bet that she loves you too, Vash the Stampede!"
I only grin wider at her, hoping that people aren't staring at my face. Because the way it felt just now, I was probably red as my coat, burning with embarrassment.
*****
Author's Notes: On a lighter note. . .only a month and a half of school left. Yes!