Meryl knows something isn't as it used to be. I can tell by the sidelong glances she casts at me when she walks by. I can't say I blame her, Vash hasn't been very discreet.
He only eats if I bring him the tray. Nothing so blatant as the first day has happened, I don't even sit on the edge of the bed, but in a chair beside the small side table. Vash eats, I watch; sometimes we make small talk. When he's done I take the tray back with me and he goes back to sleep.
Not quite the declaration of love Meryl seems to accuse me of. Maybe it's my overactive imagination. Maybe it isn't.
Vash is gone when I take in his breakfast tray five days later. I stand stupidly in the doorway staring at the empty, rumpled bed as though expecting Vash to materialize on it any minute.
Meryl gives me a funny look when I come back to the table with the tray. She's still staring when I sit down and start to eat off of it.
"What are you doing?" She sighs heavily.
"Eh?"
"That is for Vash," she points at the plate I'm currently picking off of.
"He isn't here," I shrug, I wonder briefly why I'm not as concerned as Meryl is currently getting.
Her chair crashes to the floor as she jumps up and runs past the table. Vash's door bangs open and I hear her muted exclamation of horror through the walls. It isn't a handful of seconds longer that she comes tearing back.
"Where is he?" She shrieks. Like I know.
I shrug, helpful as always and eat another piece of toast.
"Get up!" Meryl jerks on my arm, hauling me out of the chair while I stretch toward the plate, snatching up a bit of fried meat before I'm yanked out of reach.
The sun is unforgiving on my skin. The desert sun on any given day can be murder, but I still haven't got a shirt and thanks to my mother's genes (from what I can tell from a certain filthy uncle) I've got a fairly pale complexion.
"Vash!" Meryl's little feet kick up a hell of a lot of dust. "Vash!!"
People are starting to stare, sticking their heads out of their little shops or broken windows. I wave and grin like an idiot as I'm drug past them by an irate little woman.
Meryl comes to a sudden halt and I trip spectacularly over her, landing on my face in the sand, thankful that it wasn't a mess of perfectly pointed rocks.
"Vash!" Her voice is laced in relief.
I take a moment to spit the dust from my mouth and squint up into the sun. Vash tends to have an uncanny ability to stand in front of the sun... it must be part of his learned killer instinct. God knows it puts the enemy at a disadvantage if they can't see.
"Hey Meryl!" He waved, a blurry black hand in the flame of the sun. "Wolfwood, what are you doing down there?"
"Checking for desert worms," I grumble, dusting off my pants and squinting. I need to find a new pair of sunglasses.
"Vash, what are you doing out here? You should still be in bed!" Meryl's fists are on her hips and I step back. I can smell a fight from a league away.
"I'm fine, honest. Besides, I've been in bed for a week," Vash grins, hands behind his back. He's rocking on his heels... He's hiding something.
"Well, you've gotten some air, I suppose that's good," Meryl frowns. It's easy to sway a woman to your cause if you have a smile like his. "Let's get you back to the house though, okay? You don't have to go back to bed, but I don't want you to stray too far."
"Okay," He salutes smartly and begins his goose stepping. Meryl rushes to keep up and I roll my eyes heavenward. I'd cut off my right hand for a pack of smokes. ... Okay my left hand... There are some things a good right hand can do on a lonely night. Nevermind.
The shade and relative cool of the house is welcome. My skin is still uncomfortably warm across my shoulders. I touch one and grimace, a sunburn, perfect. And I was in the sun, what?, five minutes tops?
"Nick, come here a minute," Vash calls from his room. Meryl frowns and follows me in, wanting to know what's going on and hoping she might find an answer or two.
The tall, waif of an idiot is grinning like a fool. It's nice to be right. "What is it?"
"Ouch," He winces and touches two fingers to my left shoulder. It doesn't hurt, and his hands are cool so it actually feels rather nice.
"Yea," I grunt. "It happens when you're drug out in the sun without a shirt on."
Meryl looks briefly sorry but scowls at me. "You don't even have a shirt."
"Au contraire!" Vash crows, twirling a package on his finger. He's spouting French, this won't be good. His boyish face fades into one of mild embarrassment. He holds the package out to me with both hands.
"What is it?" I'm leery of whatever he would spend money on. I take it anyway and pull the ties open. The paper falls apart without any extra effort and a lightweight grey cotton shirt spills into my hands. I shake it open and smile a little.
When I look up, Vash has flushed and is smiling to himself. "I hope it fits, I wasn't sure..."
I slide a sleeve up one arm and shrug it on. It's not bad for a hand picked shirt. The cuffs are a little long and the chest is a little tight, but I'm not about to complain. It's soft and cool, wonderful to my burn.
"You didn't have to," I grin, running my hands across it. It must look like I'm molesting myself but I don't really care.
"But I did, I'm the one that ruined your last one," He frowns softly.
"No you didn't." I'm firm about it. I'm the one that used it as a blood stopper. "But thanks anyway."
Meryl shifts on her feet and I remember that she's there. It was easy to forget about her when she's quiet. She's so small.
"Hello? Where is everyone?" Millie's cheerful voice booms across the house. Meryl looks between us and shuffles past. "Hi, Meryl! What's for lunch?"
The big girl's on break, Meryl's tending to her; it's just me and Vash and a personal type present.
Vash is staring at his feet, the same flush across his cheeks. He's so much like a child sometimes it scares me. Mostly scares me that I don't want to taint his innocence... or that I do.
"Thanks, kid," I grin hugging him tight while he laughs in my ear.
"You're welcome," he whispers, hiding a grin of his own in my shoulder.
"So what do I owe you?" I step back, tugging the hem of my shirt straight.
"Nothing!" Vash gapes.
I give him a half-hearted leer, "Nothing? No ulterior motive?"
The man actually looks hurt. What am I doing? I can't seem to do anything remotely right around him.
"I would never– "
"Vash," I sigh, "I was joking." He clicks his mouth shut and looks at me like he doesn't believe me. I sigh again. "Really. It was thoughtful, thank you."
"You're welcome." He beams.
Bipolar much?
He bounds out of the room, caterwauling some awful tune amid cheers and clapping from Millie. He's something else entirely... I wonder what that something tastes like?
---
Evening is as uncomfortable as any other hellish one I can remember. Meryl is sulking and quiet, she barely speaks to Millie who seems oblivious. The larger woman is chattering away as she combs the dirt chunks from her. Meryl is too busy glaring absently toward Vash... who so happens to be sitting on the floor at my feet leaning against one of my legs as he cleans his gun.
I'm a horrible person. I should have seen it earlier. Meryl is in love with Vash... or maybe just infatuated. It's not like I'm an expert. All I know is that it makes me a target.
"Wolfwood, hand me that rag would ya?" Vash waves with one hand.
"I can't," I grin when he gives me a quizzical look. "Don't want to ruin my new shirt."
"The rag!" He parrots, pointing. I sigh and hand it over, smiling to myself when he returns to his vehement, nearly anal retentive, manner of cleaning.
His head is bobbing like a bird on crack. I could get dizzy watching him, so I don't and decide to recline in the chair and relax. Vash is pushed to the side with my knee, an accident, honest, and he lets out a fairly girly shriek and clutches my thigh with both hands to keep balance.
I laugh and glance up, speared through with Meryl's vicious stare. Millie's laughing with Vash, I'm more worried about what's going to happen to me when I go to sleep tonight. I wouldn't be surprised if Meryl is standing over my bed with a pillow waiting to smother me in my sleep.
I've got to figure out a way to talk to her about what's going on, set some things straight and make sure we understand each other.
I stand up, Vash calms to giggles and gives me a curious look as I step around him and hit the hallway.
"Where ya goin'?" Vash peeks over the arm of the chair.
"Bed," I sigh heavily. "See you in the morning."
"Right," Vash's eyebrows furrow but he waves idly, "Goodnight!"
Before my door is pushed tight Meryl's hand pushed through the opening. She's always been a straight forward person.
"Hurry up and come in," I say sarcastically with a frown as she's pushing the door shut. I don't want to hurt her, she'd better cut the hostile vibe down.
"What are you doing to Vash?" She demanded. She's leaning against the door, whether to keep the others out or to keep me in… maybe it's both.
"Nothing." One question and I'm already defensive. "What do you want with Vash?"
Her face fills with color, apparently she didn't expect me to be blunt. I can't help a vindictive smile. "I've seen the way you look at him. I can't blame you…"
"I don't… I don't want…" She falters, biting her lip and staring at her feet. The fight is spilling out of her as easy as that.
"God I need a smoke," I grunt as I sit on the bed. The shirt pulls tight in the reclined position. I unbutton a bit and lean against the wall. Meryl is peering at me through her hair. "Do you want him?"
A bit blunt, even for me.
She gapes, colors a bit more and sputters. "I, I don't see how that's any of your business!"
"I think it is my business," I'm trying to stay serious, honest I am. "If I've got competition, I'd like to know it. I've been on the edge of death most of my life Meryl, I'm not about to let him go because you're getting territorial."
"You can't honestly want him," She's pleading with me, with her voice and her eyes. "You're a man!"
I can't help the eyebrow arching off of my face. I'm hoping she's just curious and not bigoted. If she is, we're going to have some serious problems.
"But I do, and being a guy has nothing to do with it." She doesn't look disgusted exactly… it's actually very hard to place. It makes me a little angry, I'm about to say something stupid, I just know it. "Have you kissed him yet?"
Her lip wavers, "No."
"I have," Her eyes are wide, maybe they'll fall out of her head. "Twice."
Meryl's face pales and blossoms again in red. She's lucky she doesn't pass out with that much blood draining and rushing to her head all at once. "You're lying!"
"Oh?" I stand, suddenly furious. She practically falls out of her own way, maybe she thought I was coming after her. It worked in a way, she's not blocking the door.
Vash and Millie look startled when the two of us come clomping back into the living room.
"Mr. Priest, are you—" Millie cuts herself off as she sees Meryl's pasty, panicking face.
Vash stood up in the confusion, I can see that calm, calculation look slowly seep into his face.
His shirt is cool when I bury my fist into the collar, I haul him an inch away, stopping when I can feel his breath on my face. I'm about to do something very stupid and I would like his permission before I make a fool out of both of us, or get a broken nose. His blue-green gaze is flickering over my face, I'm staring at his lips, waiting for a sign. He licks his lips briefly, his breath hitching.
Perfect.
I can't stop a small sigh of content as I tip forward. His lips are warmer than the last time, pliant and wet. I'm startled when his fingers touch my neck. The tips are cold, and it's the first time he's ever made an effort. Just that, innocent as it was, strikes flint in my stomach and my easy kiss gets a bit aggressive.
A soft, rolling growl curls in my throat; my fingers tighten on his hip; I think he whimpered…
"Enough!" Meryl shrieks, slamming her fist onto the table.
Vash jerks back, eyes blinking haze and looking around himself like he'd been sleeping. He looks at me, down and up again—making my flesh prickle. I'm tempted to think he might be angry with me now, except before I can finish the thought a sly grin curls on his lips.
"Maybe I should by you a shirt more often."
I can't help myself, he's lost the innocent look and borrowed a debauched devilish one. I like it too. I kiss him again, quick and hard just for the hell of it and draw back far enough to stare him in the eye and share his breath.
"You should see what I do for a pack of cigarettes." I waggle my eyebrows and he laughs soft, but there's a thoughtful look on his face that makes me think I may have a pack by morning.
"Please, stop," Meryl simpers. We both look over at her, her eyes are wet and narrow, spots of color high on her cheeks.
"Meryl?" Millie touches her shoulder, "Are you okay?"
The shorter woman spins out her grasp and storms out of the door. Millie chases after her, leaving Vash staring at me in a way that isn't remotely close to the heated look he was giving me earlier.
"What did you say to Meryl?"
"Nothing she didn't already know," I promise. "She thinks she's in love with you, though." I don't smirk or laugh, this is a serious situation. "Maybe she is, I wouldn't know."
He's gaping. It would be endearing if he weren't shrugging his coat on. He's going to chase her down. I watch him dash out, he didn't even bother to tell me where he was going. It doesn't matter though, we aren't some kind of exclusive thing. We aren't much of anything.
They haven't come back by nightfall. Not that I'm waiting up.
I've drank far too much, the bottle of whisky is now empty. At least it wasn't full when I started. There had to have been at least one drink taken from it before. The walls are pulsing on my way to bed, at least the blankets are already kicked back. Between the whisky and the fatigue, sleep is sucking me in. Why fight it?
---
Maybe it's midnight, maybe it's later I don't know, I don't have a watch. There are hushed voices in the hall outside my door and my head thumps to the low beat of it.
Oh, whisky and noise do not go well together.
I groan and roll onto my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head and press it around my ears. At least I can't hear them anymore over the loud, train-pulse of my heart in my ears. My stomach roils just a bit and I ignore it, breathing carefully through my nose to settle.
It does quicker than I had hoped and sleep is sucking me back down into my head. Light spills across the wall and I clench my eyes shut even though I can barely see it. Damn them, why don't they go away? They didn't care enough to stop tearing out of the house without a word, I don't want to hear from them now that they've come back.
I growl as the bed dips a bit as someone leans across it.
There's a soft sigh and a stumble as the empty bottle of whisky is kicked accidentally. My door is pushed shut and I sigh softly into the bedding, thankful.
"Wolfwood," A soft, husky whisper. If I had been sober, it would have gone straight to my groin. However, I'm disgruntled with Vash and could give a damn at the moment.
I growl and swat feebly over my head to ward him off. I doubt it will work but he hasn't said anything else.
Vash sighs softly and the bed dips again as the man climbs aboard. Apparently growling isn't dissuading him. Damn.
It's a pleasant surprise as he slithers down into the blankets and folds himself around my side, his cool hands curve around my chest and it's blissfully comfortable. I try to stay grumpy at him, but it's mighty hard to be when he snugs up tight and breaths softly against my neck.
"Meryl's okay," he mutters. "It was an awkward conversation." He laughs lightly, it's a bit sad and I struggle to turn my head toward him to squint in the light. His blue-green eyes are more green than blue in the darkness. "She doesn't understand."
I nod distractedly and drag an arm up the bed and curl it about his waist, pulling him up tight.
"You had to choose?" I ask him with a croak. Damn that bottle of whisky.
He smiles a little and shakes his head. "It wasn't a choice." He buries his head under my shoulder and his fingers clutch a little tighter. "She would never understand."
His voice is barely audible through the mattress. But I think I get it. Meryl doesn't kill, doesn't fight, has never had the horror and sorrow in her life that is laced through Vash down to the bone and beyond.
"Did you think I would really have her instead of you?" His voice is light and full of innocence.
My heart ceases and lodges somewhere in my throat. I can't correlate an answer. That was exactly what I believed to have happened. Who would want a murderer with a shady past? I smile wryly to myself at that. I wanted it didn't I? I have the proof in my bed attached to my side.
He pulls back to look at me, his eyes are soft and his smile is sad. "Who else could think a devil could be an angel?"
I scoff lightly and set my forehead to his. His eyes are wide and his face is open.
"Kiss me?"
I blink owlishly at him, "Did you just ask me for a kiss?"
He blushes and nods a little against the sheets. Such purity from a devil? "You don't have to ask," I tell him before obliging.
His kiss is desperate, clinging and wet. His worry makes me worry. I pull him up tight and nearly bruise out lips at the pressure. I'm too drunk to come to full attention, but I can feel his erection against my thigh. I slip a hand down his side and attempt to cup it but he backs off with a soft gasp.
"Don't," he pleads, his eyes are wide and slightly damp.
"Wha—" I don't understand.
"I'd like to wait," he admits with his face pressed into the linen.
Wait for what? When I'm sober? When he can handle it? "Okay," I croak, more than a little offput. He hisses softly through his teeth and I run my knuckles across him anyway as I take my hand away in retreat.
He kisses me with a sudden heat that splits my lip at the center. It stings and copper washes over my tongue. He pulls his head away and drags himself across me until he settled in tight with his hips kept at a safe distance. "I need something to look forward to," he whispers into the dark.
"Alright," I still don't get it. I press a dry kiss to his forehead and hold him loosely as I drift off to sleep. I'm too tired and brain addled to wonder why he would need something to look forward to.
---
In the morning, my bed is empty and cold. Vash has long since gone and my head pounds.
Meryl and Millie are sitting at the kitchen table, both of them look upset over their coffee. Millie sees me in the doorway first and stands with a wail. "Oh! Mr. Priest I'm so sorry!"
She practically tackles me to the floor and hugs me. My head swims hard and my stomach lurches. It takes a valiant effort not to hurl all over her.
"What?" I manage to choke out.
"He's gone," Meryl answers for her. She doesn't look at me in contempt or hate anymore. If anything, I'd say she looks sorrowful.
"Gone where?" I glance at the door and finally dislodge Millie from my person. She retreats to the table to wipe at her eyes and sniffle into her napkin.
"He wouldn't say," Meryl pours out a cup of coffee for me and gives me a brittle smile as I thank her for it. "I don't think he wanted us to follow this time. He left in the night. This was on the table." She flicks a folded piece of parchment toward me.
My name is written across it in a sloppy slant. My stomach hurts, I hope I'm still asleep. The note unfolds in my shaking hands. A simple sentence the stops the world spinning. 'Wait for me.'
"Do we know what he's doing?" I hope my voice didn't sound that panicked to the girls as it did to me.
"No," Millie sniffs. "But it must be important."
"He'll come back," Meryl says with conviction. "He has to. He wouldn't leave you behind, would he?"
I can't believe the conviction she managed to pack into that sentence. The woman mustn't have loved him… should couldn't and mean what she just said. Perhaps it was just infatuation after all. That thought relieves me more than her words do. I don't want to separate Meryl and Vash, she's probably his first friend. And hell, if he ever decides to have his way with a woman, at least he would have the contacts to do it.
I nod distractedly and look down at the harmless bit of paper. Now last night's denial seems more important. Something to look forward to indeed… except if he dies, I'll never forgive him for not letting me.
I guess I'll just have to do what he says… and wait.