SIX: plush ducky

And suddenly, the tears came. They rushed down his face in torrents as he crushed her unexpectedly into a hug even tighter than the hugs that Milly reserved for just such occasions. A very familiar voice, filled with childlike innocence, really unbefitting a man of over one hundred thirty years.

"Oh, thank you!" he cried out, for all to hear. "This is the greatest day of my life! I feel so young again!" She had heard it before, but she still blushed, like always. His grin, however, filled her with hope. "I can't believe this is really happening!"

"Just learn to believe," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. A year ago she would have struggled. Now she was more reserved. "That's all it really takes."

He looked to her and set her down. The uncontrollable joy that had taken hold a moment ago was replaced by a more reserved Vash the Stampede. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

"I guess I never really thought about it," he admitted.

Meryl blushed. At times Vash reminded her of Milly, and on occasion times, he reminded her of herself. And then there were times when he was like no other individual she had ever met. It was amazing to her that she could understand him at all. But she had gotten used to him, and she had grown to care for him very much.

Lifting a hand to her face, she brushed her long bangs out of her eyes and smiled up to him. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was at a loss for words.

He smiled, and calmed himself. His eyes studied the delicate features of her face. I've always known I had a guardian angel watching over me. I just didn't realize she was going to send me you.

It was a preposterous notion, really, but it made him feel so wonderful inside, that knowing her had been so much more than mere coincidence. Rem's teachings alone were proof enough of that. He drew a deep breath and gazed past her, toward town square.

"Maybe we should go find her," he said after a time.

Meryl nodded. "All right."

Together, they started down the path Milly had taken. If she knew anything about these towns she felt almost sure that someone had probably grabbed the groceries, which meant her book was probably long gone. That left Meryl one option. "I think we should stop by a store. The people here are well off, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't take advantage of a lonesome bag of groceries."

She paused a moment, almost sure she would find her friend in tears when they arrived back at the fountain. That wasn't an image she really cared to see right now. "Why don't you go find Milly, and I'll meet you at the fountain." She gave him one of her smiles before she left him to go off towards the store.

In only the few minutes that they had been reunited, he could tell the past year had changed Meryl in many ways. Somewhere along the line she had learned that it wasn't about taking care of yourself; you had to be there for everyone you cared about. The thought made Vash smile as he watched after her. She expanded herself in a way that Vash found to be ever-changing, as Rem had been. After all that she had gone through, with or without him, Vash realized that she had learned to survive after all.

With a smile, the Humanoid Typhoon headed back toward the fountain. Milly would be waiting there, with or without the groceries. For the first time in ages, his day was calm, though the storm itself had lasted since that day Legato Bluesummers had framed him for the murder of a boot maker.

Children darted past, frantically trying to nab his attention. Vash simply smiled and gave them a parting wave as he continued toward the fountain. Soon, he saw here there, slumped over on the limestone bench. As he'd expected, no groceries could be found. He assumed that was why the tears were threatening to overwhelm his friend. He headed over to cheer her up.

He stood next to her, gazing appreciatively down at her. He lay a hand on her shoulder and smiled. She looked so vulnerable, despite her large frame. "It's all right, Milly. I've got some cash. We can always get more pudding."

"It's not the pudding," she said, her words nearly drowning in her tears. "I…it's just…I don't like to fail, Vash, yet sometimes it seems all I'm capable of doing. I let Meryl down again."

Vash nodded, understanding. Meryl couldn't possibly be a very easy girl to please, and failure only made it ten times worse.

"I don't like failing her, Vash. It makes my head hurt."

Vash knelt next to her and took her hand, swiping his free hand in the dirt quickly, a movement she wasn't likely to see beyond her tears. He set his hand on her shoulder, a friendly smile on his face. "No, you couldn't fail her, Milly. You make her happy, and that's all that matters, right?"

She blubbered. "I guess so."

A movement too quick to judge followed; he flicked his wrist toward her, flinging something into the air with his thumb. Vash didn't have to follow the projectile; he knew how accurate his aim was.

Milly didn't see the young man being struck in the back of the head with a small rock, knocking him flat. Vash's eyes were too intense as they focused on her. She couldn't look away. She never saw the thief drop her stolen goods.

"Hey, look at that," Vash started. Milly jerked a little, turning her eyes to follow his line of sight. "That nice young man found your groceries for you."

He stood and sauntered over to the surprised thief who was at present rubbing the swell rising on the back of his head. He gathered up the groceries—two dozen cans of pudding, a package of sandwich meats, cheese, a bruised tomato, a jar of mustard, and lettuce. And, of course, a worn, leather-bound book. Yeah, this is Milly's all right.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on our dinner, slick," he said quietly. "I really appreciate it." He eyed the man for a moment and then whispered, "Doesn't look too bad. Sorry I had to do that, but you didn't give me much of a choice."

He returned to Milly with an armload of groceries and a pleasant smile on his face. In the meantime, the little thief darted away into the crowd of people.

Milly's smile had suddenly returned, and it made Vash's heart soar.

----------

Meryl came walking down the road not long after the thief had departed in a hurry to get away from Vash. In one arm she held a small bag for Milly, hoping it would make her smile. She hated seeing Milly said; it broke her heart. After all, Milly was much like a sister for her, the only true sister she had ever had, not to mention she was all Meryl had nowadays.

As she approached them, she noticed that there was a brown paper bag set between Vash and Milly as the sat at the fountain, waiting. She breathed a sigh of relief as she approached. Maybe her book was still there, too.

"I see everything is still here," she commented lightly as she approached.

"Just about." He reached into the bag and drew something out. "Oh, here… I think this is yours, Meryl."

Indeed it was the book she'd been reading earlier. She vaguely remembered putting it in the bag shortly after Milly met her that morning, in the moments just before Vash had walked back into their lives. Smiling, she sat next to him; Vash characteristically tried to sneak a peak into the bag Meryl had brought. With a teasing grin, she held it just out of his view.

"So, whatcha got there?"

"Patience, you lug," she said, though she didn't mean it in a demeaning way. Her smile showed him just how glad she was to have him back. "Milly?"

She could see the fresh tears lingering in the big girl's eyes, though she wasn't yet crying. Drying her eyes, Milly tried to force the demons from her system. "I was so afraid I let you down, Meryl. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to forget our dinner. It just…slipped my mind, I guess." She sighed, trying to remain calm. Her eyes were locked on the dirt at her feet, unable to look Meryl in the face.

"It's all right Milly. The groceries aren't gone, are they? Everything's just fine." She impressed herself sometimes. A year or two ago, she would have probably had a few choice words with her big friend. Something along the line of keeping her head on her shoulders. If she let her mind slip and lost a simple bag of groceries, what other, worse situations could pop up the next time? But Meryl knew it was pointless to get on her case now. It was over, and besides, she didn't like hurting Milly's feelings. That was simply a crime against humanity. "Here, I bought you both a little something…"

She reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller bundle, which she handed to Vash. "These are for you," she said.

"All right! Thanks."

Meryl grinned and reached back inside the bag to pull out a small box, which she handed to Milly. "What is it?" the big girl asked.

"You'll just have to open it and find out."

Meryl was in an especially good mood this morning. She'd gone into the store with the intentions of just picking up enough to make some sandwiches, but instead she had picked out two gifts that she had known would be hits. Shopping for Vash and Milly wasn't exactly the hardest thing she had ever had to do.

"Wow!" Vash stuffed an entire donut into his mouth. "You sure do know how to make a guy feel lucky!"

Meryl thought it was amusing that somehow, he didn't spray her with pieces of donut as he talked with his mouth full. There was so much about the man she didn't understand, but this was one thing she had gotten used to. He had been so strange when she had first met him, nearly—what, had that really been nearly three years ago—that Meryl had difficulty believing that he was really Vash the Stampede, the notorious sixty billion double-dollar outlaw. Of course, that had been the idea. He hadn't been comfortable with people knowing what Vash the Stampede actually looked like. Meryl had gotten over the awkward farce long ago and now saw him for who he really was, and somehow, it made him feel at ease with the world around him.

He closed the tiny bundle. "I'll save the rest for later," he announced. "I just ate ten on my own. Just make sure I don't sit on them."

Meryl chuckled. "Just be sure you enjoy them, that's all I ask."

"I did. It was scrumptious, really."

The legendary gunman turned his gaze to Milly, who was presently trying to figure out the packing tape that held her gift closed airtight in the tiny box. He whipped out a knife and sliced through it for her. Milly opened the box and peered inside, and immediately started to giggle like a schoolgirl. She plucked out the little plush ducky Meryl had chosen for her and held it to her chest in one of her enormous, bone-crushing hugs. Vash had to grin at the sight.

Meryl smiled too. "So, who wants sandwiches?" she asked.

----------

They spent what was left of the morning and an entire afternoon about the town, talking amongst themselves and mingling with the children. Vash and Milly even managed to drag an unsuspecting Meryl into a game of kickball. She was unconvinced she should join them at first, but she soon changed her tune, laughing along with the with the rest of them. The game took up most of the afternoon and zapped nearly all of Meryl's energy. She wasn't surprised at Vash's supply, but Milly's stamina was simply amazing. How could so big a girl expend so much energy and still have so much left in her tank?

Eventually, the three of them bid the children a fond farewell—after Vash bought ice-cream for all, of course—and returned to the fountain to relax.

"Now that was a blast," Vash said as he flopped down there at the limestone bench. Meryl joined him, and Milly found her place between them.

"No kidding!" Milly laughed. "Too bad we had to stop! Don'tcha think, Meryl?"

Meryl gawked at her. "I hope you're kidding, Milly. I'm pooped!"

Vash grinned and shook his head. "So, do you girls have a place to stay tonight? I mean, maybe we should room together, if you don't mind."

"That sounds wonderful, doesn't it Meryl? Let's do it!"

Meryl frowned slightly and searched her pockets. There were just a few coins in the bottom of one pocket. The other was as empty as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards. She sighed. "I think we might be staying in the thomas stables tonight," she said quietly.

"Nonsense," Vash said. "It's my treat this time. There's an old inn on the edge of town where I came in this morning. Looked like a pretty decent place." He shot Milly his best grin. "They have a saloon on the ground level and the people there seemed to be having a blast!"

He saw Milly's eyes light up. "Hey, Mr. Vash! That gives me a wild idea!"

Meryl put a hand to her temple and groaned. She didn't like the sound of Milly's voice when she said that, but she didn't say anything. Her mind raced with horror at all the "ideas" that Milly might be considering at this moment.

"And what's that?" Vash asked.

"Let's go have a few drinks!"

Drinks? Vash grinned. "That sounds like a great idea."

"A few drinks?" Meryl put her hand to her face, groaning. Milly was already up and strolling away as if she knew exactly where she was headed. "Milly! That is not a great idea, Vash!" She actually punched his arm, and then called after her friend, but Milly was too far away and couldn't hear her. Meryl stuck a finger square into Vash's chest, giving him her most stern glare. "You! Don't you dare put any of those ideas into her head that she can have a drink whenever she wants! We can't afford it, and she doesn't handle booze all that well."

He smiled. "Relax, Meryl. It'll be okay. I'll buy, okay?"

Meryl groaned, and then actually laughed.

"What?"

She shook her head, gazing up to him with a sparkle in her violet eyes. "I was just thinking. You know, a grown girl carting a stuffed ducky to a saloon to get plastered. I was just thinking that would really be a sight to see."

Vash laughed. "Yeah, I guess it would."

Meryl shook her head, giving him a look. "I still don't think this is the smartest thing to do, but I guess I'll let you two have your fun. I mean, it's been a year, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it has."

She picked up her book and watched as Vash picked up the bag with Milly's pudding. "Just make sure you watch yourself tonight. Set a good example for her."

"Hey, you know me."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Vash."

He gave her his best smile, the smile that Wolfwood had treasured, and then grabbed her arm and carted her off after Milly, toward the inn.

"Whoa! Vash, slow down!"

But he wasn't paying any attention right now. When Vash the Stampede had his mind set on something, he was dead set on getting it done.

And right now, he was dead set on drinking.

----------

Sixty iles away, a man on a motorcycle rolled into the town of Devil's Bluff, long, blond hair whipping in the breeze, clad in a black suit. He watched the evening sun as it dipped down closer to the western horizon, and pulled up next to a limestone building with a pair tattered doors that barely clung to their hinges.

He picked out a fresh cigarette from his near-empty pack and lit it with a match. Then he rose, kicked open the doors, and strolled on in as though he owned the place.

"Barkeep, give me a bottle of tequila and a glass with ice. Price isn't a concern."

He flopped down onto a barstool and peered quietly about the place. It was empty, surprisingly considering the number of men he had seen wandering about town as he came in. Apparently it wasn't a big drinking night in Devil's Bluff. All the better. He didn't really care to run into a hoard of drunks this evening. He wanted to be the only one drinking his life away tonight.

"Eh, sure thing, kid," the husky barkeep replied, coming over with a bottle and a tall glass, filled to the brim with ice. Elderly eyes perused the stranger as he slid the purchase over the counter. "New here, ain't ya?"

The man nodded to the barkeep. He took a long drag of his cigarette and poured himself his first drink. "Yeah. But I've been around the block a few times, so new things don't bother me all that much." He pointed his cigarette at the man. "You look like a fellow who knows your shit. I heard a rumor a few weeks back of a man in a red coat who came through here."

A puff of smoke escaped his lungs as he tapped the excess ashes into a nearby ashtray. Green eyes peered up to the barkeep, intelligent eyes that told the old man that he didn't take shit from anyone, and he'd didn't give it, either. He was straightforward or he didn't talk at all.

"You mean him?" The barkeep thrust his thumb toward a poster on a door behind him. Sure enough, the paper bore the image of his target and the lofty reward in big, bold print just beneath it. "Can't say as I recall a red coat, but doesn't mean he wasn't here. I believe I saw 'im not too long ago. Two or three weeks tops. But he didn't wear red."

The young man nodded and downed a gulp of his drink. "That's him all right." He finished off his cigarette and stamped out the butt in the ashtray. "Vash the Stampede. I want to know where he was headed."

"Rumor has it he was spotted in Black Rock a few weeks ago. Sixty iles or so to the north." The old man gave the boy a look. He couldn't be any more than twenty years old, and here he was, talking about Vash the Stampede. Was this youngster a bounty hunter? "Apparently he left here without saying a word. Only wanted to take a look at the local plant. Though I never quite understood the matter."

The barkeep grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the counter.

"Man mighta looked like the poster, but he sure didn't act like a sixty billion double-dollar killer. He was more like a happy-go-lucky peacekeeper. At least, that's what Wanda said. She's my daughter. About your age, actually."

The young man grunted. So Vash had apparently been here. That was all he really cared to know. He didn't care to hear what everyone else thought of him. The stories were enough for him. The fallen city of July. The people rendered homeless in Fernarl. The hole carved into the face of the Fifth Moon. That was really all he needed to know. He downed the last of his drink and grabbed for the bottle.

"So, do you have a dinner menu in this place?"