DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
Meryl paced.
Vash was late; where was he? There had not been an accident or something, had there? She would not put it past him to somehow have nicked an artery while shaving.
"That two-bit twit, how dare he be late!" she fumed out loud, covering her worry.
"I'm sure there's a good reason," Milly assured her. "He could have gotten stuck in traffic."
"He's just down the hall!"
"Well, maybe –" A knock – rather, an obnoxiously loud banging – at the door interrupted what Milly was going to say.
"He's here!" Meryl flew to the mirror to check herself – Was her hair ok? Were her teeth clean enough? Was it ok that she was wearing a clean set of her work clothes because she had not wanted to appear too eager to have dinner with Vash? – and decided she looked fine.
She opened the door – and was underwhelmed.
It was not like she had expected Vash to be dressing formally, but he could at least have put some effort into it. His usually neatly styled hair was mussed, ruining the broom-head look she was used to. Had not shaved and there was some definite five o'clock shadow. Had he been drinking, or was his cologne whiskey-scented? Even his duster, which had been wrinkle-free this morning, was badly rumpled. Well, at least his boots were – no, they were as muddy as if he'd been splashing outside in them.
Meryl wanted to frown in irritation, but swallowed it. She had given no indication he needed to treat this as special, even if she had begun to think of it as a date. It was not like he had messed himself up on purpose. She would give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Ready?" he grunted.
Maybe he and Wolfwood had gotten into an argument and rough-housed? That could explain his appearance, and why he was acting this way.
"Yes, I am," Meryl replied, smiling to encourage him. "I presume you have my twenty double-dollars?"
"No. Let's go." He marched down the hall without waiting for her. Caught off guard, she scrambled to catch up, wondering what had happened to the Vash of that morning.
The restaurant was just down the street from the hotel. One good thing he did was walk on the outer edge of the walkway, shielding her from the blowing rain. This was more like what she expected from Vash.
That was where it stopped, however.
They entered the restaurant, where her cape was checked. "May I take your coat, sir?"
Meryl expected Vash to say yes, since his duster was soaked on one side from the rain. It would not kill him to be without it for one meal.
"No. Just give us a table."
The host clucked once in irritation, but nodded. "Of course, sir. Right this way."
At their table, Vash sat down first, without even bothering to pull out Meryl's chair. She was getting more and more annoyed with his ungentlemanly behavior and appearance, but would see this through to the end. There was always the chance he would redeem himself.
Waited for him to engage in small talk or, better yet, explain himself, but he did neither. So she perused the menu. The salad looked good. The pasta selection had some good choices. Maybe a glass of wine – white wine, considering her work clothes. And for dessert, let's see…
The waiter came over before she had fully decided. Vash plowed in. "Two steaks, rare. Two beers on tap. Donuts for dessert."
"I beg your pardon, sir, but we do not carry donuts."
"Everyplace carries donuts," Vash insisted.
The waiter bowed. "I will check with the chef, sir."
"I could have ordered for myself," Meryl pointed out.
"Saved you the trouble."
"Hmph!" Buried her head in the menu to keep from giving him what for. She would be polite, even if he was choosing not to be.
Meryl found her rare steak not to her liking. It was too bloody, got cold too quick, and was too tough to cut properly. She looked at Vash expectantly, waiting for him to offer to cut it, since he was the reason she had it, but no offer came. He cut his and chewed in silence. Drank his beer.
She set her steak aside. Did not touch the beer, since she had not intended to order any. An attempt at small talk was quickly shut down by his repeated shrugs.
The donut dessert came, after all. The one that she ate was ok, but she really had been going to order a slice of apple pie.
All in all, this was proving to be a most unenjoyable experience. Vash was turning out completely different from what she had expected. He was nothing like the man who had asked her out. Maybe this was an evil twin?
The final straw came when the bill came.
"Pay it."
"What!" Meryl exclaimed.
"I don't have any money on me. Pay the bill."
Stood up, knocking over her chair as she did so. Heads turned their way.
Foul thoughts ran through her head as she stood, quaking with anger, about to erupt and pour her verbal fury over him. But if she started, she wouldn't stop.
Instead, she took out some money and threw it down on the table. Then her hand lashed out, delivering a fearsome slap across his face that left a very definite handprint.
Meryl stormed away. Her hope that this would be a first date was destroyed; as far as she was concerned, Vash had just ensured this was their last date.