A/N: It's pretty important to keep in mind that this fic is AU, but it parallels the series. This is the last chapter in "Wanted". I'm going to miss writing it
Ibogal: I think that's the nicest review I've ever gotten! It made me so emotional...but then again it's 12:30 AM right now... Thanks so much, and I hope you'll be as generous in the future.Since this is the last chapter, and the last time I'll get to say thanks (for awhile, at least) I want to stress howsupportive you've been.You rock, ibogal:)
Peacemaker: Thanks! I wanted to let everyone know that I've started on the sequel, "Truth or Dare", which takes place after Trigun. I might not end up releasing the first chapter until late July--I like to have the first few chapters done before I start putting them up, in case I run into a problem.
Pailay: Lol. I felt bad for going eleven chapters with minimal romance, so the last chapter was fluffed out to the max. I'm glad you like it! You've been another one of the greatest reviewers ever--gives Pailay a cookie--thanks a bunch, and see you around! (P.S. The line "It's small, but it's power is sufficient" was my favorite line from the manga too. )
Cinafran: Thanks for reviewing. My computer does that to me all the time--sometimes I feel like "accidentally" throwing it out the window.
Aine of Knockaine: Thanks for reviewing again; I'm glad you took the time to read my story, and I hope I'll see you again when I put up the sequel!
siNicaLLY diSTuRbEd: You tell anyone about this and I will haunt you to your grave. And yes, you are very special. I still haven't decided if that's a good thing. (haha..just kidding)
Valk: This is the last chapter in the series. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy it!
wolfgrl1423: I'm glad that you liked it, and welcome to (I know what you mean, I didn't want to read fanfiction at first either. But Trigun is so good, and there are quite a few awesome fics on the website) See you around!
Since this is the last chapter, I wanted to thank the other reviewers--Leviathon's Son, Marie Ward, Ashari, Saraki, Pupiish, Parrhasis, SBcowgirljunkie, EmpressGalaxia, Shattrdheart, Peridot3783, Tokimonster, Lily-Sama, Cyllwen, creature of the night, Angel,and My Name is R.C. If you're reading this, then thanks for everything and I hope you like it.
Also, I'd like to thank everyone who's reading this who hasn't reviewed. No more delays, now. Onto the story!
"Meryl Stryfe?" Meryl sat up abruptly, scattering loose papers around her desk. She scrambled to gather them into a semi-organized pile. She had been thinking about him again–Vash the Stampede. It had been years since their encounter, but the goofy, doughnut-scarfing gunslinger had been occupying her thoughts more and more. She snorted–he probably didn't even remember her name.
"Meryl Stryfe!" The voice said, more sharply.
"Yes, sir?" She asked distractedly, snatching at a tricky sheet that had fluttered beneath her chair.
"Could you step into my office?"
Oh no, thought Meryl, trying to remember if she'd been late recently. She smoothed her shirt, straightened her skirt, and stood. "Yes, sir!"
Mr. Bernardelli's office was being renovated, and his desk had been temporarily moved to a small closet-like space. The ceiling was low for even Meryl's short stature, and she found herself ducking slightly to avoid scraping her head. Sunlight filtered through a tiny window in one of the walls, illuminating languid dust motes, and Meryl felt ill-at-ease in the cramped place.
Mr. Bernadelli himself was seated behind a beautiful, Victorian desk that was ridiculously out-of-place wedged between the two walls. He was an older man, slightly balding and a little on the portly side. His expression was impossible to make out in the dim half-light and Meryl tried not to fidget beneath his stare.
"Yes, sir?" She found herself repeating, more to break the silence than anything.
Bernardelli cleared his throat, glanced down at some papers. "Apparently there's a new threat to our insurance policy."
The insurance girl waited, saying nothing.
"It's become quite the problem." He continued. "Very, troublesome, very troublesome." This last part was and inaudible mutter, and Meryl felt like he was talking to himself instead of addressing her. "Are you aware, Ms. Stryfe, that Bernadelli Insurance Company has paid over $$3 billion double dollars in repairs in the last six months alone? One man in particular has been the root cause of over 300 disasters!"
Meryl shook her head patiently, wondering exactly who "he" was.
"Well, it's become quite the problem," he repeated. "A huge liability. Bernardelli is losing a lot of money on this idiot." He interlaced his fingers and leaned across the desk, staring at her gravely. "As the founder and head of the Bernardelli Insurance Company, I have an obligation to keep things running smoothly and efficiently–and to keep the company out of the red, so to speak. This company is a huge part of the economy–a huge part, Meryl." He shook his head, mottled jowls trembling. "If Bernardelli closes, our investors go bankrupt, our stock buyers. Then there's the unemployment. 1 in 2,324 of the entire population of Gunsmoke is employed by Bernardelli or affected in some way by the company. The ramifications of 'going under' would be huge." He paused to make sure this was all sinking in, and Meryl nodded vigorously, hoping he would wrap the lecture up soon. She was getting a kink in her neck from hunching over.
"Well, the task of dealing with this problem rests squarely on my shoulders, Meryl," he continued, satisfied with her reaction. "It's quite the dilemma, you know. I've thought this over–and I want you to listen carefully, Meryl–because I've finally reached a conclusion." His voice dropped dramatically. "I am going to assign a handpicked pair of Bernadelli Insurance Agents to assess damage caused in similar scenarios–'disaster investigators', if you will."
Mr. Bernadelli took a deep, shuddering breath. "We have decided to assign you the task of following around an outlaw known as 'Vash the Stampede'."
Meryl's head shot up involuntarily, slamming painfully against the low ceiling. "Who, sir?" She winced, touching the sore spot tenderly. She couldn't be sure if she'd heard him right, or if her imagination was getting carried away with her.
"Vash the Stampede. Of course, the company realizes the dangers in this sort of undertaking. You...are aware of this so-called 'humanoid typhoon'?"
"Ah...I–uh–They say he's responsible for destroying July," Meryl said weakly.
Mr. Bernardelli grunted and broke eye contact. "Perhaps it would be beneficial to find a more experienced agent. I had chosen you because of your dedication and promise, Ms. Stryfe."
"He's number one on the top ten most wanted list–there's a $$60 billion double dollar bounty on his head. He's wanted for the destruction of several towns–strangely, they say no one died," Meryl blurted.
Mr. Bernardelli's face creased in a smile. "Kind of like 'you don't need God for a miracle'? Well, I suppose you'll do nicely for the job. Godspeed, Meryl!" Bernadelli returned his attention to the papers at his desk.
"Sir?" Prodded Meryl. "You said you were assigning two field workers?"
"Yes, yes," said Bernadelli. "Why don't you take that girl with you? What's her name...the one that's always late?"
"Milly Thompson?" The dark-haired girl offered. The thought of her naive, cheery friend brought a smile to her lips.
"That's the one," Bernadelli said with a wave of his hand. Taking this as a dismissal, Meryl darted eagerly from the office.
Milly hummed an upbeat tune as she riffled through the forms to be filled out. She selected one and began to read:
Please Print!
Application No. 12357569102313
The following person(s) is filing an insurance claim with the Bernardelli Insurance Co., manager and proprietor Mr. Gerald Bernardelli; sub-category houses.
Name: Douglas J. Kelley, Jr.
Mailing Address: 79 main st.
Living Address: 79 main st.
Home Telephone: 555-3070
Business Telephone: 555-4163
Customer ID No: 2224
Filing Claim: A micro-burst destroyed the porch of my house three days ago. The reparations cost an estimated three hundred and...
Milly's eyes glazed over and she gave a small inward groan. The day was just too beautiful for this kind of work, she decided; her gaze traveled over to a large window. Beyond, she could see a deep blue sky, with just a few whispers of opaline clouds drifting by; the sand was so bright, it practically glowed.
"Milly!" Came a familiar, no-nonsense voice. "Milly, snap out of it."
"Huh?" Milly looked up, her pale blue eyes wide. "Sempai!" She cried. She leaped up, knocking her chair over.
"We have a mission, Milly," said Meryl, a smile tugging at her lips.
If possible, Milly's eyes grew even larger. She planted her hands on the desk and leaned over. "What is it, Sempai?"
"We have to track down a dangerous outlaw and make sure he no longer represents a threat to the Bernardelli Insurance Company," Meryl chirped happily.
"Ok, Meryl!" Milly said joyously. "Do I have time to pack?"
Meryl rolled her eyes. "Of course, Milly. We don't leave until the day after tomorrow."
"But 'a dangerous outlaw'? Aren't you scared, Meryl?"
Meryl looked out the window. Somewhere out there was Vash the Stampede. The man with sixty billion double dollars on his head. The legendary gunman she'd met two years ago in the middle of the storm-torn desert. The man who had slowly occupied her thoughts over the months–until today. She felt exhilarated. Nervous. A little anxious.
"No," she said softly to Milly. "I'm not scared at all."