THIRTY-ONE: pee dance

"How was your day, Miss Meryl?" Mercia asked as she slid a tray with a basket of freshly made dinner rolls and a container of soup.

"It was wonderful," Meryl said. "Mr. Bosovich is such a nice man. He took me to the mill today. I've seen more in five days than I did in twenty-five years on the outside."

Mercia glowed at the compliment and leaned against the counter. "Yes, Mr. Bosovich is a great man. It is a wonderful life. I'm so lucky to have such a home." She was a young woman, barely out of her teens. In her kitchen, she wore her long red hair up, save for a single, flowing lock that fell over forehead and played against her left cheek. She was a woman who enjoyed colors, and it spoke in the way she dressed. Her dress was blue with a splattering of yellow flowers, along with a golden belt that hung from her waist. There was no need for makeup; her slender, feminine figure, highlighted by colorful clothes and playful attitude spoke volumes for the woman's appeal.

"What's it like?" Meryl asked. "I mean, I've never seen anyone else in this house. Don't tell me you live in this big place all by yourself."

"It was my parents' first home. They built it when my father came here years ago. He was the last outsider ever given refuge here, before you and your friend."

"And where are your parents now?"

Mercia averted her eyes. "I don't know."

Meryl frowned. She reached out and took the girl's hand. "What do you mean, you don't know?" she asked gently.

"They were banished from here six years ago. I've lived alone ever since." Her shoulders drooped. It was the first time in her five days here that she'd seen Mercia troubled over something. Her heart ached for the girl.

"What did they do to deserve banishment?"

Mercia shrugged. "I don't know."

Meryl lowered her gaze. "It's a lonely world, to lose your family. I know. Wherever they are, I'm sure they're proud of you."

"I know they are. If they're even alive."

Meryl understood. The outside must seem so distant and dangerous to a girl like Mercia, a girl who had barely set foot outside her own home all her life, a girl who knew only the paradise that surrounded her since her birth. Whatever her parents had done to deserve banishment from a world like this must have been something simply dreadful. Meryl wondered what it could possibly have been.

She reached out and touched the girl's shoulder. "You're a brave girl, Mercia. Thank you for taking us into your home."

"Oh, anything for you and your man," she replied quickly. "How is Mr. Vash, by the way?"

Meryl grimaced on the inside, though her smile remained true. The villagers had suspected Vash was her lover since their arrival. Though true on some levels, it still put her on edge to hear it in the words of strangers. Meryl was a private person, and here she was talking about her love life with people she really didn't know. "Better, I think. He still hasn't regained consciousness, but he's resting peacefully. He should wake any day now."

Mercia smiled. "I am glad for you. I will make donuts for him, when he is well."

"Well, thank you," Meryl said politely, lifting the basket and soup on tray. "And have a good evening. I'm going to see to Vash and take a nice, hot bath."

"Good night, Miss Meryl."

She quickly left the kitchen, strode down a long, shadowy hallway to the narrow staircase leading to the second floor. The windows on the right wall, let the light of the sunset spill against the left wall, casting the hallway in a hazy, orange glow. Meryl thought the evening was beautiful here. There really wasn't much about the place she didn't think was beautiful, other than the fact that Vash wasn't awake to share it with her.

She had known he had been battered pretty good during their journey from Black Rock, but she hadn't thought he would be down and out this long. She took a key from her jeans and slipped into the room. It was small room, though Meryl suspected that this place had once been an inn, as each room on this floor had four doors, including two closets, a study, and a bathroom. There was only one bed, a small table, a washbasin, and a dresser in the main room. The finest feature, she thought was the tall window in the corner of the room, highlighted by silk curtains and a built-in, leather-cushioned loveseat.

He hadn't moved an inch since she had left earlier in the day. In fact, he hadn't moved at all in five days, except for the occasional rise and fall of his chest in the form of a slow breath. His hair was a tousled mess, and he needed a bath more so than she did, though she had sponge-bathed him as best she could each night. She'd be sure to have him wash when he woke, whenever that happened. She prayed it wouldn't be too much longer.

She set the meal on the table and took the pin out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. It was several inches longer than it had been the day she had found him back at Black Rock. She wondered if he would notice. She approached his side, taking a washcloth from the bowl at his bed. As she had promised, Mercia had brought fresh, ice-cold water. Meryl squeezed some of the excess water out of the cloth and mopped up the sweat from Vash's forehead. She gazed longingly at him, waiting desperately for him to stir from his slumber. He didn't. Gently, she kissed his forehead.

"I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

She held his hand briefly and then turned toward the bathroom, leaving him alone.

He stirred after some time, and found himself staring at the ceiling in a strange room. He glanced about, trying to determine where the hell he was. He was naked above the waist, and he could feel the terrible scars that riddled his body as he rolled his fingers against his torso, scars he would bear the rest of his days.

Slowly, as he shifted in bed, he began to remember the events that had brought him to this point. He remembered departing the cave within the small canyon and the strenuous walk across the desert, clinging to Meryl and Milly like a babe would cling to his mother. He thought of the underground lake they had discovered and the wondrous Eden that lay just beyond. Eden? Were they truly in Eden?

He yawned. Damn, was he tired. He glanced about, smacking his heavy, thick tongue against the dry roof of his mouth. "Ah, man, I need water."

Worse yet, I gotta pee.

He shook a bit, hating having to get out of bed. He still ached something awful and the last thing he wanted to do was move around. Thankfully, his injuries seemed to have healed a great deal since he'd slipped into the blissful darkness. Rubbing the side of his face, he wondered how long he'd been out.

With a groan, he sprung from bed, doing a pee dance as he darted sporadically across the wood floor, fighting to hold it in. He checked several doors to no avail.

"Oh man! You'd think a place this small it'd be easy to find a bathroom!"

Finally, he threw open the last door and saw the porcelain god waiting for him across the room. "Oh, thank God!" He hopped on over, tearing open the fly of his trousers. Instantly, the relief began to fill his soul. He leaned back, sighing heavily. He was rejuvenated. "Oh, yeah… That's the stuff."

"Vash!"

The man's cry of surprise echoed through the bathroom as he spun on his hip toward Meryl's voice. His mind raced as he saw the former insurance girl sitting there in the tub, gaping at him. His hands went to his fly as he raced to cover up. His face flushed as he pulled up way too fast and caught himself in his zipper.

"Oh shit!" In that moment he slipped and crashed unceremoniously to the floor. Twitching a little as he tried to regain some composure, the Humanoid Typhood turned his eyes slowly over to the girl peering over the side of the tub at him.

"Vash! Are you alright?"

He grimaced. "Geez, guess I shoulda knocked, huh?"

Meryl hid a smile, laying her face against her arms as she lay them against the side of the tub. Vash shifted around, attempting to cover himself. He sighed, relieved that he hadn't caused any more damage to himself, and shifted his eyes to hers. His face still glowed with embarrassment. He was disappointed by his own reaction. It had been too much like the goofball image of himself that he had created over the years. Still, she had surprised him, and that in itself was a little embarrassing.

In the past, she might have yelled at him, but not tonight. Instead, his eyes met hers, twin violet orbs that glistened beautifully not only with the expected concern but with love. He had to roll his eyes at the stupidity of the situation. "Damn, that hurt." He groaned slightly, cupping himself as if checking to see his was still intact. "Why don't I just blow it off with the angel arm? It would be more merciful."

Meryl groaned at his ill-attempt at humor, shaking her head, but then she flashed him a caring smile. She felt giddy and playful at the situation. He shook his head and found laughter, pure laughter for the first time since the day they had come back together at Black Rock. He turned his eyes back to her and grinned. "They say I can get myself out of the most impossible situations imaginable," he said, rising to a knee an sliding closer to her so that he stared into her eyes. "I guess they forgot to check the story from all possible angles, cause I'm impossibly in love with you…and I don't think there's any way out."

It was a cheesy line, but it was the best thing she'd heard him say in a long time. She wondered if maybe he was healing in more ways than just physically. Her smile grew, but the look in her eyes was more than playful. It was almost demanding, in a gentle sort of way. Slowly, she inched her face forward and pressed her lips to his, only to pull back and giggle at the water she left on his face from her dampened hair.

He smiled. Slowly, gently, he reached out and took her face gently in his hands, guiding her lips back to his, kissing her tenderly. How can a man so awkward in life transform into something so utterly different—so warm, so gentle, so graceful—on cue? she wondered silently. There were so many sides to his character it could be frustrating, sometimes even frightening. He hid away that side of him, closed it off so that he could spend as much as he possibly could on just being Vash. Now, his kiss revealed to her the hunter he so often claimed to be, the seeker of the elusive mayfly known as love. He had finally caught it, holding it between them, never to let it go.

He broke the kiss after a time, his forehead pressed to hers as he stared into those lovely, violet eyes. He brushed the long, wet strands of hair from her face and gazed into them. "Thank you," he whispered.

Her smile was gone, replaced by silent longing as she stared back at him. His hands were gentle and kind against her face, holding no demands, just a cherishable moment meant for them to share. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it back against his skull. "There's no need to thank me," she whispered. "Can you hand me the towel?"

Vash didn't say anything, holding the moment a bit longer before he rose and grabbed the towel. She didn't have to ask; he turned around to give her the privacy she needed. He was a gentlemen in more ways then she suspected he realized. It made her smile as she pushed against the side of the porcelain tub and stood, wrapping the towel around her, concealing her slender, tiny form from view.

"Alright, I'm decent," she announced, lifting a foot a foot from the water to get out of the tub. It all began with those few words. Vash started to turn as she wavered and lost her footing. Vash's injuries were not completely healed, but that didn't keep him from getting to her. Unfortunately he stepped in a small puddle of water and his legs slipped out from under him. Meryl fell back into the bathtub, towel and all, pulling Vash right along with her. They splashed down into the hot water, sending a tsunami of bath water spilling over the sides of the tub to the vinyl floor.

Instantly, he found her eyes, concerned. "Are you alright?"

But Meryl was laughing, placing a hand over her mouth, face flushed at the situation. She was sure it looked a hell of a lot worse then it really was, despite the dull ache in her back. Eventually she caught herself and, grinning ear-to-ear, nodded, fighting to contain the laughter that threatened to consume her again. "You?"

He shook his head, blushing as he gazed down to her. When he realized that they had sustained no permanent damage in the fall, he rested his forehead against hers once more and laughed softly. He was so happy to be with her, despite their overwhelming lapse in coordination, that his recent injuries were all but forgotten.

"I couldn't think of a better person to fall over," he teased, and kissed her gently on the nose. She giggled at the corny line, something only Vash could make sound like the best compliment in the world. His smile, the true smile that Wolfwood had adored, crossed over him. His face glowed, but he wasn't embarrassed. This time there was nothing but joy in his heart.

He started to rise, but paused, seeing her lying there, draped in a towel that was pretty well useless. Instead of getting up to let her out, he leaned forward, his body against hers, and pressed his lips to hers. By damn, he wasn't passing up this moment, and a kiss would be more than enough.

He felt Meryl's hands against his biceps, gazing up to him with a look on her face that he'd never seen before, and he was struck. Her hand went to his chest, and he was certain that she was about to push him away, but instead the hand waited there, and gently caressed his skin. Then her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She lifted her knee, placing one foot on the rim of the tub so that her thigh rested against his hip in an intimate gesture. A single hand ran along his back, but she didn't feel the many scars that marred his flesh; she felt only the smoothness that was Vash the Stampede.

The kiss persisted, intense love binding them with forces unseen by the naked eye. Only eyes guided by the heart could ever understand such unabated passion. Memories shifted through his thoughts. Girls he had followed about like a puppy on a string. Mary Anne, Elizabeth, so many others that Meryl and Milly had never met, but none of them had ever held his heart as she did in the palm of her hand. Meryl possessed him like no one ever could. His hands rested against the small of her back, gently massaging her through the wet towel that was still wrapped around her. His lips parted ever so slightly from hers, and he met her eyes.

He would fight for her, and she for him. Nothing else had ever been so plainly evident to him, so obvious. His heart pounded, and he was certain he could feel the vibrations of her own tickling his scarred chest.

He returned his lips to gently cover her face with tender kisses. He spoke quietly between every kiss. "Oh, Meryl…I love you…I need you…always."

It was the way she felt at that very moment, the very feeling that left her believing she was more than who she truly was. It turned a peasant into nobility, it made the weak strong, it made being draped in a wet towel similar to being dressed in the finest silks and satins. She opened her eyes in small slits to watch him, his face, his mouth, the emerald sea behind his eyes. She held his gaze for a long time before she cast her eyes downward, a heavenly blush invading her cheeks. "Vash," she said, and kissed his nose. "I love you too, but…" She kissed him again and smiled, repeating it between each of her next words: "We're…in…a…bathtub."

He smiled as she gave him one final kiss and touched her cheek. "So we are," he whispered. Then he lifted himself out of the water, offering a hand to help her up. The longing in his eyes had faded to simple pleasure. He was satisfied that he had been set here before her on this world, handed over to her by the blessed hand that brought him into the world. His thoughts drifted momentarily to that day on the cliff, overlooking the desert where Knives had waited for him, eager for that final battle where Vash would be given that one, final choice.

Meryl too had given him a choice that night. You can stay here as long as you like.

He had said that maybe he would, and that it didn't sound like such a bad idea.

But he had been forced to face Knives first.

When that was over, he had walked away. He had come so close to loosing this moment, loosing this time, that it hurt. When he brought her up he surprised her again, lifting her into his gentle arms. At first, she tried to protest, but he didn't seem to be listening, so she simply relaxed in his arms and lay her head on his shoulder as he carried her from the room. Soon, he lay her on her feet at the bed, holding her until he was certain she had her footing. Then, trailing his finger along her chin and down the flesh of her throat, he took his arms from her.

He watched her with hungry eyes, and held her gaze with his intensity. There they stood, waiting, trapped in one another's eyes. It was the only imprisonment where Vash truly felt at home, and he didn't ever want to look away.

She parted her lips to speak, but no sounds came forth. Those moment, those precious few where nothing was said, were the moments Meryl would forever lock in her heart. It was a peaceful dream that could not be altered by the density of words. Instead, she breathed deeply, letting her chest rise and fall as she gazed to him.

He smiled down at her, seeing her trembling due to the cold, though he suspected she might be trembling for other reasons as well. He took his hands and rubbed them briskly against her bare arms, returning as much warmth to them as he could. He drew her close and kissed her once more, a slow and gentle kiss.

Then, he drew away to gaze at her. She watched him back and swallowed, staring up to him. She waited, wanting, but what she thought would happen didn't. "I…thought you should take the bed tonight," he whispered. "You look tired. You need to get some rest."

"No," she whispered throatily. Her voice seemed to tremble with the shivers that still racked her body. "No more distance." She balled her hands into tight little fists, closed her eyes, and sighed. Then she lifted her hands to the towel and gave it a gentle tug, allowing it to slide from her body and drop to the floor with a soft plop, revealing the whole of her to him. Vash simply stared down at her, dumbstruck. She reached out and took his hands in hers, pulling him gently toward her. "I wish to share my life with you…all of my life. That includes a bed, Vash."

For a long moment, he stared down at her. His world froze in time briefly, and he wondered how it had been for Milly and Wolfwood, when they had shared their precious little time together in the same manner that Vash was still too hesitant to try. He had seen it in the bright pink of Meryl's cheek that she wasn't quite ready, either. When she insisted that he stay with her, it brought him a good deal of uncertainty.

"That would be fine, but my pants are wet and we don't have another pair that'll fit me," he said finally, giving her a look attached with a small smile. "Which means I'm in my birthday suit."

Meryl smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. "What do I have, a full-dress uniform?" she teased, though she blushed furiously as she considered the prospects of the situation. "I won't look, I promise."

She looked to him. He watched back.

"I only have one question," she whispered, and lay her head on his chest. "I know I love you. I know you love me. For all we know, this is our last night in Eden together. If tomorrow it all ended, would you have any regrets?"

He wet his lips, unable to find words to answer her question.

She wrapped her arms around him. "It's a tough question. I don't think I can answer it myself."

"If you keep your vision clear, you will see the future."

She looked up to him, her eyes glistening. "What?"

"Something that Rem said," he whispered. He stroked his fingers gently along her spine. His touch caused her blood to boil and quicken in her veins. Her own reaction shocked her, but it didn't frighten her the way she thought it would. "Meryl…" There were so many things racing through his heart at that moment, he wasn't sure what to say. He blinked, lost in his thoughts. "I just don't—"

She stopped him there, before he could go any future, before he could finish any question that plagued his mind. She stole away that one chance to end it before it could begin, seizing that one opportunity before it could simply fade away. She wouldn't let that piece slip through her fingers, with thoughts of the time Milly and Wolfwood had shared in her heart.

Her heart thundering in her chest, she threw the last threads of caution to the wind. She parted from him only to gasp for air and reclaim what was hers, what was needed for survival. She felt Vash as a drug to her system and she wouldn't stop until she had what she needed to continue on her own. She had no worries at all from the people of this village, no thoughts of the world beyond. None of that mattered now.

She ran a hand down his back, along the sensative skin of his side, her other hand laid protectively over his heart, shielding him from any pain.

Vash felt strangely like a slave to her touch. It was a slavery he welcomed, a slavery he cherished. She touched him in a way that was beyond tender, as if the hand of God itself had parted the heavens and scooped him up into his almighty embrace. He had once overheard Rem call himself and Knives angels, long ago while he was but a boy on the Project SEEDS ship. No Rem, we weren't angels. We were star-crossed voyagers who were lucky enough to be held in your embrace.

He felt her every curve as he lowered his hands from her back and let them slide to the swell of her hips. He savored the taste of her lips against his and could smell the sweet scent of lilacs in her hair. He tried to think if he had ever stopped to consider the way she smelled before but it didn't really matter. He did now and he was overjoyed that he held her in his arms.

The kiss seemed to last forever. Meryl took short breaks to gasp for air, but she always returned to him with more hunger than the moment before, more desire to be with him and to feel the pressure of his lips against hers. He came to see her as his angel, not vice versa. She was the one who had guided him along the path to his salvation, whether she understood or not.

He was done waiting.

Vash closed his eyes and took in the moment, breathing in her scent, eager for her touch. She trembled as he once more took her by the hips and drew her even closer than they had been a moment ago, all the while feasting on her now-swollen lips. His heartbeat raced along with hers, reminding him of the sound of a thousand horse hooves pounding down on the desert floor. His breath faltered in a passionate moan as he broke the kiss, glancing down the length of her nude body ever so briefly before returning to those glistening violet pools.

Her hands trembled against his scarred flesh.

What next, Rem? What right do I have to this heart?

He knew exactly what Rem would say. If Meryl was so willing to turn it over to him, then he had every right to do with it as he pleased. To turn her away would be nothing short of rejection, and Meryl didn't deserve that.

He slowly lifted a hand to his chest. "My heart," he whispered, fixing her with his peircing, emerald stare. He reached out and lay the palm of his other hand to the delicate flesh of her breasts, where he could feel every pulse of her racing heart. He peered longingly into her eyes as he continued, "belongs to you. For so long as you will have it."

Now the tears fell freely from Meryl's eyes, and he knew that he had stolen her heart once more.

The realization sent tears of joy pouring down his own face.