Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, nor do I own Meryl and Vash
A/N: This chapter has been sitting on the back burner for awhile. Hope you enjoy, and please review...I'm in need of creative energy.
A week passed had passed since Vash and Meryl stumbled across the forsaken lab. Vash had brought the "nasty-looking meat" and water supply down, but at the rate things were going they would both die of boredom anyway. The storm had ended only three days ago, but Meryl knew the desperados were already out there, looking for her. Hunting her. She shivered, trying to turn her thoughts to more useful things. Like escape.
Meryl had found the lab interesting at first, spending hours sifting through papers on chemical reactions and the research into plants. But it had lost its edge after the third or fourth day, and she found herself returning to the plant room more and more often, just to stare at the elegant creature. Finally, she had resorted to scrubbing her and Vash's clothes clean to keep herself working and preoccupied. It hadn't worked.
On the seventh day, she was a gun ready to go off. Two weeks without seeing civilization was slowly driving her insane...and Vash was speeding the process.
"Is this what being an outlaw is like?" She asked Vash dully one evening.
"Usually it's worse. You should consider yourself lucky that you have a charming, gorgeous rebel like me around!" He smiled sunnily
Meryl balled her hand into a fist to keep it from grabbing her gun and pistol-whipping him.
"I'm...so...bored." She groaned.
Vash stood suddenly, offered her his hand. "Let's go somewhere."
"Where? We're both wanted. In October and in Baker."
"So let's go visit Fest."
It was tempting. But the thought of John Rot and his goons made her want to stay iles away from the cluster of cities.
"All those stairs...?" She said, trying to deter his boyish enthusiasm.
"I told you–that's the back door. The lab connects the three cities."
Meryl hesitated, worried about being spotted in the lovely little city.
As if he could tell what she was thinking, Vash added. "C'mon, we'll disguise you."
Meryl felt uncomfortably exposed in the saloon, though this wasn't the sort of place the Desperados favored. She was dressed in her tight skirt and Vash's baggy dress shirt, the fedora from Vash's escape snugged over her head. She tugged the fedora down to cover her face, effectively cutting off her line of sight. She pushed it up again, unable to tell which was worse: feeling undisguised or not being able to see. In the end, she sighed and took the hat off altogether, shaking out her dark hair.
"How do you do this?" She moaned. Paranoia was eating her up inside.
"Do what?" Vash managed around a mouthful of doughnut. Meryl cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Didn't your mother teach you to chew with your mother closed?" She chided, brushing crumbs from his shirt.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm."
Meryl buried her head in her hands, wanting nothing more than to be back in the gloomy,
isolated lab. The waiter came and she ordered a drink to take the edge off. They had chosen this particular café because it was ten minutes to midnight, and no one else was open. The café itself wasn't bad. Just a little shoddy. It was the company that bothered her: she would have preferred it if the entire room was empty. A makeshift stage had been constructed from painted plywood and Sheetrock at the far end of the room. A lousy western band was playing live–some sort of country song. She blocked it out.
Vash, on the other hand, didn't seem nervous in the slightest. He was talking animatedly about something or another, pausing to wolf down doughnuts.
"Meryl!" Vash shrieked loudly. "Don't look now! Desperados!"
Meryl's head shot up and she glanced around so quickly she got whiplash. Everyone in the diner had stopped to look at them, but she couldn't see any gangsters around.
"Where!"
Vash grinned. "Had you."
Meryl's cheeks flushed scarlet and she gave him a savage kick under the table. "You know, $$60 billion is sounding awfully tempting right now," she hissed.
"Ow," Vash protested.
Face burning, Meryl slid out of the booth and made a beeline for the exit, ignoring Vash's cries to wait.
Outside, the air was not as heavy or suffocating. Instead it carried the cool, refreshing scent of summer. Nighttime in Fest was a beautiful thing: Fires had been lit in the cast iron streetlights, giving the city a romantic and oddly exotic touch. The streets were made of herringbone brick that seemed to fairly dance in the flickering glow of the flames. Besides the candles, the stars were the only source of light, and they cast a silvery hue over the boulevard. It was past midnight, and the streets were abandoned except for a group of street musicians playing on the corner: a blues song.
"Meryl! Hey, wait up!" Meryl sped up, hoping she could somehow ignore him.
"You forgot your fedora," he said with a goofy smile, placing the hat on her head.
"Oh." Was all she could think to say.
Vash noticed the musicians, pulled a face at the song they were playing. He tossed a bill into their donations basket, murmured something in the Cellist's ear. Without breaking, the band fell into an old tune that Meryl's grandmother had sung her to sleep with:
So...on the first night a pebble falls to earth from somewhere
So...on the second night the pebble's children join hands and sketch a waltz.
Sound Life
She smiled at the memory. Vash seemed to note the change, because he bowed playfully and offered his hand to her.
"Care to dance?"
Meryl blushed and glanced around. It was too late to back down–she'd already told him during their game of "hangman" that she loved to dance when no one was around...Reluctantly, she took his hand and followed his lead into a ballroom waltz. The soles of her shoes clacked loudly against the brick drive. The only other sounds were the resonant notes of the beautiful old song that echoed hauntingly from the alleys. She was so focused on not tripping over her feet that she didn't hear Vash singing at first.
"So...on the fourth night the children of the wave spray shore. Sound life." He flashed another lopsided grin, and she couldn't help laughing. The atmosphere was so easy out here, away from the crowds and the harsh artificial lights.
So...on the fifth night those shards strike the earth over and over.
So...on the sixth night those signals bring the travelers together.
Sound Life.
So...on the seventh night, a weightless ship races to the sky.
"So..." Meryl began, trying to remember the words to the song. "On the eighth morning a song from somewhere reaches my ears. Sound Life."
Vash gave her a curious look.
Well then, a song that has recorded everything echoes to the new sky.
Sound Life.
Sound Life.
The music stopped, and Meryl leaned against a streetlight, fanning her face with the fedora. "My grandmother used to sing it each night," Meryl said absently.
Vash's face registered surprise. "Your grandmother..." her repeated thoughtfully.
Meryl nodded, though he couldn't see her: his eyes were fixed on the stars above and he actually seemed serious for a moment. He whispered something Meryl didn't catch.
"Pardon?" She asked.
Vash looked back at her; at her sable hair and fiery eyes. "I said...are you ready to go back to our gloomy, isolated lab?"