CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Contentment

PART THREE… Sad Excuse for a Life …

Cold granite stones led Vash up the cliff until he found himself facing a dome-like, camouflaged building. Hands in his pockets, he swiveled at the waist, looking around at the plant life. The only sounds for miles were from birds, insects, and the wind. One didn't often get the chance to be in such an untouched, isolated place. This was a sign of money, of power, and of paranoia.

"Vash," she called out, sitting propped against a huge oak. Her legs stuck out awkwardly in front of her, bound and screwed into support braces. Old-fashioned crutches lay nearby, as did a little blanket with a basket and a few bottles of water atop it. She wore a zippered jacket, unbuttoned and open mid-way down her chest, a purple shirt with a low neckline underneath. She couldn't wear pants, for obvious reasons, so she had a khaki skirt draped over her braces, to her knees. And of course, she was barefoot.

"It's warm here," he mentioned absentmindedly as he walked to her, still glancing about nervously. "Back in Asia, it's winter."

"Yes, it is." She folded her hands in her lap and watched him, hoping he wouldn't insist upon further small talk.

"Your injuries look like they're healing well. How are your legs?" he asked, sitting Indian-style against another large tree, several feet across from her.

"They hurt. And they itch like hell." She reached over and tossed him a bottle of water, sipping at a large packet of juice of her own. "Tough hike, huh?"

He drank. "Yep."

After a pause, she stopped sipping the juice and stared at him again. "So what did you want to talk to me about? You look so serious," she asked simply, proving that her sight in one good eye was sufficient to read his expression. "I hope this isn't about the philosophy of it all. I don't feel like arguing it right now."

Scratching his head, Vash sighed. "Yeah, I know. No, it's not that. I want to know about…I want to talk to you about the things you've never told me. Like, what was going through your head when you turned yourself in, on the ships."

"Well…" She sighed, remembering. "I was thinking that to stay with you was a waste of emotion and time," she admitted. "Tessla hated me, and I didn't know how to be her mother; it just felt wrong. And once I realized that you wanted to act on your feelings for Meryl, I knew what I had to do. It would have been selfish of me NOT to leave. I knew that you were happier without me; you didn't try to find me. I'm not mad about it." She shrugged. "I guess I was right."

Vash frowned. "You shouldn't run from your problems."

"When they're problems you can't fix, you SHOULD run. I think things turned out the best way they could, and I'm happy about that."

"So what do you want, out of life?" he asked, voice rising a bit.

She stared at him for a moment before laughing a little. "Are you serious? Well, of course you're serious – you're Vash. Ok, then, what do I want out of life: I want to never be helpless to another, I want to never want to be hurt in a way that is not fair, and I want to avoid hurting others in ways that aren't fair."

"What's fair? How can someone hurt someone else 'fairly'?" he asked, perturbed.

"If one goes into a situation knowing full well that something bad can and probably will happen to them, then if that bad thing DOES happen to them, it's 'fair.' Getting hurt in war is 'fair,'" she added, gesturing to her legs. "On the other hand, if one enters a situation innocently expecting to be unharmed, it is unfair for someone to knowingly hurt them. For instance, when I was with you on the ship – I made you miserable for things that you had no control over. I hope to never hurt anyone unfairly again."

"Yet you're willing to hurt hundreds on a whim."

"I thought we agreed not to argue the philosophy of the Agency!" she growled, rolling her eyes.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Sorry. Okay. So, um.." Clearing his throat, he took a deep breath and just said it: "When did you stop loving me?"

Vanessa stared into his widened eyes as she thought, then looked down to curl some grass around her fingertips. "I don't know," she murmured.

"What day did you wake up and think, 'Wow, I do NOT love Vash'?" he asked softly.

She chuckled nervously. "That didn't happen."

He watched her fiddle with the grass, holding his breath. Did she mean she GRADUALLY stopped loving him, or that she never stopped loving him at all? How was he going to get her to clarify that without leading her on? "I just guessed that you realized it the day you left. Or, maybe a little sooner."

"When did YOU realize that you didn't love me anymore?" she countered.

"Um, I suppose I realized it once you were gone. I…"

"You didn't miss me," she finished for him, knowing he wouldn't admit to it aloud.

His silence confirmed it.

"And when you saw me last month – saw what's happened to me – it makes sense, now, doesn't it," she continued, pulling the fresh, mountain air deep into her lungs with a few slow breaths. "That your love for me was more compassion about my scars and pains than about an actual romantic love, huh. I'm not insulted; I should've known."

"I don't think that's true," he muttered, narrowing his eyes plaintively at her.

Vanessa looked up, somewhat surprised. "Really? Oh, but I'm sure it is. I don't think you can accept that, though. And that's okay, too. I can live with that. You were awfully nice to me; I don't feel cheated." She laughed sadly. "You're the one that ought to feel cheated."

"Well, I WAS pretty mad at you for things you did," he responded, uncrossing his legs so that he could lean forward to hug his knees to his chest. "But I wasn't cheated. We had good times together, and I'm grateful for what you did with Knives, and for giving me Tessla…"

She nodded slowly, and smirked before letting her face relax to a calm expression.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what have you been doing on Earth? Besides the Agency stuff, I mean," he asked warmly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from his shoulders.

"Not too much," she admitted. "I paint a lot, but mainly I keep to myself. This world is so fast, and busy, and full. I guess I'm slow to change. I read a lot, too."

He nodded, smiling slightly. That sounded depressing.

"I've been confused for a long time," Vanessa began, enigmatically. "But I'm working on things – I think I'll get things where I want them soon." With that, she brightened, offering Vash lunch from her basket.