DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
"It would be a lot easier to lecture you on overindulgence if you had the decency to suffer hangovers like everyone else," Meryl said to her partner the next morning. If anything, after freshening up, Milly looked as up-and-at-'em as Meryl did.
Meryl's partner and friend was good-naturedly embarrassed as she scratched the back of her head. "I'm sorry, Meryl. If it helps any, I don't remember anything. Did I at least have a good time?"
"Oh, sure," Meryl said dryly. "You spit the illest rhymes in the 'hood, girl."
Milly looked confused as Meryl went to see who was suddenly knocking at the door. A shuffling Vash the Stampede stood there, apparently inspecting some fascinating aspect of his boots.
"You've come to pay me what you owe?" Meryl queried.
Head came up. Puzzled expression as he thought back. "Oh! That." Grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot about that. I was actually here for something else. Hang on." Dug into various pockets in his red duster and counted the money before holding it out. "There's thirty."
Meryl took it. Counted it again herself. Didn't exactly frown, but wasn't smiling, either. "The bet was for fifty. And from the way you looked, I'd definitely say you didn't regret being there. Don't tell me your mother raised a welcher."
"I'm not a welcher!" he snapped indignantly. "And I didn't have a –" Expression turned thoughtful. "Well, I guess you could consider her a mother, even if I wasn't really born the way that –" Caught Meryl's interested expression and shook his head. "Anyway, I came here to ask you something."
Meryl leaned against the doorway. "No, you can't borrow twenty double-dollars to pay me what you owe."
"Will you quit fixating on that dumb bet? I wanted to ask you –" Cleared his throat suddenly. "I just came by to –" Looked at Milly, then back at Meryl. "It would be easier to do this in private."
Smirk. "So go someplace private and ask, but I don't think I'll hear you. Or get it over with right here."
Vash rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. Leaned down and whispered in her ear.
"You want to what?!"
Whispered again.
"I heard you the first time, Vash. Why would you want to do that?"
"Well, we both have to eat," was his answer.
"But not together." Meryl straightened her posture – being asked out was not something you leaned for. "Why are you asking me? You've never shown any interest before."
Milly spoke up. "But you have–"
"Milly! Your observations are not needed!" Milly quieted down at Meryl's tone.
Vash mumbled something. Meryl poked him in the chest. "Speak up!"
"Because I like the way you sing!"
Meryl suddenly understood how much of an effect she had had on him last night.
"This is about the song, isn't it? You do realize that was to win a bet? I wasn't actually saying I like you or anything." Her cheeks started to grow hot.
"And I'm not saying I like you,"he insisted. "I'm just asking a pretty woman to have dinner with me. It's not like it would be a date."
Why did she get a vague feeling of disappointment when he said that?
Head cocked as she thought about it. "I guess there's no harm in it. Come by here at seven tonight to pick me up. And have the twenty you still owe."
Closed the door to show him there would be no further discussion.
Dinner with Vash. A man who hit on anything in a skirt. An incorrigible flirt. And – she flashed back to his behavior concerning Marianne the fed during the Schezar affair – sometimes a borderline creep.
But she had also seen the best of him, and could not help but feel the skirt-chasing was a front. She had seen what she thought of as his real smile on occasion.
Being honest with herself, she wanted to see that smile more often. Found herself looking forward to trying to draw it out of him over dinner. A non-date with Vash. Well, perhaps it would be ok to think of it as a date, after all.
Maybe a first date…
"You're blushing," Milly pointed out with a grin.
"I am not!" Meryl protested, blushing deeper.