Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Not Quite Worthless ❯ Chapter 5
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Chapter 5
Vash had been a gentleman and let her take the first shower, so Meryl was now sitting on her bed in her towel, fretting over her small wardrobe. Even though she had protested the party, she now found herself at a loss for what to wear. She didn't want to overdress, but she didn't want to waste the chance to attract Vash's attention either.
"This is too hard," she moaned, falling on her back. She was glad no one was around to see her acting like a teenager. She was starting to make herself sick.
Footsteps outside her door made her sit up just before Millie walked in. "Meryl? What are you doing?"
"Nothing! I'll be down to help in a moment." Meryl forced a cheerful smile on her face.
Millie didn't reply, simply went into Meryl's closet and pulled out a lilac dress. "Why don't you wear this one? I don't think you ever have." She tossed it to her friend. "And I'm sure Mr. Vash will like it." She winked.
Meryl felt her smile become more genuine, even as her face turned a light pink. "Thanks, Millie."
The tall woman nodded, satisfied. "We'll be waiting downstairs, Meryl! Don't be too much longer!"
The door closed behind Millie, leaving Meryl clutching the dress and blinking. She supposed she better hurry up.
She hurried into her clothes, taking the time to smooth on a scented lotion she had treated herself to a few months before. As she pulled the dress over her head, the scent of honeysuckle rose around her and she inhaled briefly. Taking a quick look at herself in the mirror, she allowed herself a shy smile. This dress was sleeveless, with wide straps, a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline.
She had bought it in a rare moment of weakness during one of their stops, but it remained packed away until they settled in their current spot. It showed more skin than she was usually comfortable with, but she repressed her normal shyness-she had a plan to carry out.
Before she could lose her nerve, she ran out of the room and down the stairs to help Millie in the kitchen. Knives was no longer there, having apparently done his good deed for the day. The counter boasted three baking sheets dotted with mounds of cookie dough, and Millie was arranging the crackers and salmon on an empty tray. She looked up with a big smile as Meryl came in.
"See, Meryl, I told you that was a nice dress. You should wear it more often." Millie turned to her friend. "Oh yeah, and I think a few people are coming by."
"People?" Meryl echoed.
It still took her off guard at times-she was so used to being on the run that she still found it hard to believe that the townspeople had settled back down after Vash had returned with his brother. The men were ashamed of themselves for what they had done to a defenseless, unarmed man. The fact that he had made no move to protect himself also was a factor in his favor.
Meryl had even gone so far as to request a letter from the mayor of Inepril City, who happened to be related to the owner of the general store. The whole town heard of how Vash had saved the city from the Nebraska family. This was in spite of the fact that the residents of Inepril had attempted to kill him for the bounty on his head.
Even after all that, he then turned around and allowed the town to collect the entire bounty on the Nebraskas; giving them money they desperately needed in order to repair their plant. These facts, in addition to Meryl and Millie's passionate and sincere pleas were more than enough to sway opinion in their favor.
Millie nodded. "Yeah, I mean it's a party, right? We can't eat all this food anyway."
Meryl's first instinct was to scold her friend, but then sighed. After browbeating Vash into what was supposed to be a romantic walk, she had decided to make more of an effort to loosen up a bit. "I suppose you're right, Millie. And we deserve a little fun!" She smiled as she took the jambalaya off the heat.
When she turned around, Millie was frowning, with one hand on her lower back. Meryl immediately felt guilty, and made her friend sit down. "It's alright, Millie, I can take it from here. What's left?"
Millie looked thoughtful. "I think that's everything…except for the cookies. I wanted to wait almost until the last minute for those. That way, the house can be full of the cookie smell when people get here."
Meryl smiled. "That's a great idea." She wished she had Millie's knack for making people feel welcome. She checked the stove's temperature-hmm, better give it another few minutes.
Millie stretched her arms above her head, looking around the kitchen in contentment. "You know, Meryl…"
Her friend looked up in response, questioning.
"Vash isn't like…some other men. I don't think he feels urgency like the rest of us do." Millie laid her hands across her rounded belly with a faint smile. "So if you want something to happen, you'll have to give him a nudge."
"I know." Meryl sighed. "I'm afraid of being too forward and scaring him off. But I'm also afraid of waiting any longer. Look how long it's taken me to get this far."
A knock at the front door interrupted their talk, and the first of the guests called out a cheerful greeting. Vash yelled his response from the top of the stairs, and then proceeded to rumble down them like a herd of thomases.
Meryl barely kept her feet as Vash sprinted past her to welcome their guests. With a frown, she began to load the cookies into the oven.
"Stupid broomhead." She muttered. She closed the oven door to look up and see Knives watching her. He was dressed in his normal long-sleeved shirt and slacks. "Did you need something, Knives?" she asked crisply.
"I want to know when the cookies are done." He said before going into the living room.
***
To her surprise, Meryl wound up having a relatively pleasant evening. Some women came by bringing extra food, someone else brought a radio and the front yard became an impromptu dance floor.
Some of the younger women dared to lightly flirt with Knives. The handsome blond invalid had achieved an almost mythic status among the unmarried women of the town. His looks, mysterious background and aloof manner assured that he was the topic of many a hushed and giggly conversation. To his companions' surprise, he accepted the attention given him, even deigning to offer his subjects a small smile or two.
Meryl braved the crowds to bring out another tray of cookies, and wound up next to an impatient Knives. He was sitting next to a small table bearing a crumb laden serving plate.
"You're well-behaved tonight." She remarked.
He shrugged and picked a cookie off the tray. Round and perfect-it must be one of his.
"Who am I to stop them from paying me my due homage? It's nothing less than I deserve as a superior being." He then gave her a positively evil grin. "Perhaps if you followed their example, you would have more luck with my brother." He motioned to where a bashful-looking Vash was surrounded by a group of giggling females.
Meryl's gaze followed his hand, and her heart fell.
Knives continued on blithely, "And your performance this morning was nothing short of high comedy. Or should I say tragedy? Both words seem so apt to describe your pursuit of my brother."
Meryl froze, then calmly slid the cookies from her tray onto the empty plate. Before Knives could recognize the glint in her eye, she swung the tray at him, catching him on the shoulder and head.
"Gimpy bastard!" she yelled before turning and stomping back into the house. It didn't help her temper to hear the coos of concern coming from Knives' "harem."
***
Vash was deflecting yet another question about his relationship with Meryl when he heard his brother's cry of pain and watched her subsequent flight. Sighing, he excused himself from the ladies and turned towards Knives. To his surprise, there were no less than four women fawning over his brother, each vying to be the one to tend his injury.
He briefly wondered at the injustice of it all. No amount of puppy-eyes or fake tomato juice wounds had ever gotten him that kind of attention. Sighing, he turned towards the house instead, only to be blocked by Millie.
"Here, Mr. Vash, give her this." She handed him a glass with a colorful drink in it.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It used to be my favorite before I got pregnant." She winked at him.
Damn, Vash thought. There's probably enough alcohol in this to stop a sandworm.
"I'm sure she'll enjoy it, then." He said, with a nervous laugh. Before anything else could happen, he went into the house.
"Meryl?" he called. She wasn't in the kitchen, and the living room was empty, too. He was about to check upstairs when he heard a creak from the back porch.
He pushed open the old door slowly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't turn when he stepped onto the porch. He sat on the steps next to her, careful not to spill the drink.
"Sorry about Knives." He offered. "I brought you a drink."
Meryl was silent for a moment. Then she laid her hand on his prosthetic arm, the one Knives shot off in July. "I think you've taken enough responsibility for his actions. I don't blame you for anything." She gave him a small smile and took the glass from his hand.
Vash blinked, feeling his eyes begin to sting. "Thank you." He murmured. After another moment he asked, "Is it anything I can help with?"
"No…no, I'll get over it." She looked at him quizzically. "Where's your drink?"
He scratched the back of his head. "I forgot?"
Meryl shook her head. "Why does that not surprise me?" she muttered, and took a hefty swig. Her eyes widened and watered, but she managed to gasp out, "Millie?"
Vash looked at her apologetically. "Yeah, Millie made it."
Meryl cleared her throat, then took another small sip. This time, the sip warmed on the way down, instead of burning a path to her stomach.
She held it out to him. "Want some? I know I won't be able to finish it on my own."
He accepted with a smile. "Thanks." He took a cautious sip. "Not bad."
Meryl smiled, relaxation starting to spread through her. Maybe Millie knew what she was doing after all. Music spilled faintly from the front yard, and she began to hum along slightly. She took another small sip from their shared drink.
Vash looked over at Meryl without her noticing. Her eyes were soft, and she wore a wistful smile. And that dress was killing him. The expanse of skin she was showing just begged for attention. And she smelled like honeysuckle…which was quickly beginning to catch up to fresh-baked donuts as his favorite scent.
Vash recognized the danger he was in. He wanted to do something, but was all too aware that he was just tipsy enough where anything he said would more than likely come out wrong.
Retribution would be swift and blinding.
He heaved a sigh…nothing was ever easy.
A ragged cheer rose from the backyard, and both of them turned their heads in response.
"Want to go check it out?" Vash suggested. He rose smoothly and offered Meryl his hand. She took it and let him pull her up, for one second thinking about just letting inertia carry her into his arms.
Once upright, she wobbled a bit from the alcohol, but straightened quickly. She didn't want to seem like some sort of drunken floozy, throwing herself all over him.
Meryl turned to him with a smile and said, "Let's go then." He was standing on a lower step, and their faces were almost level. She swallowed; his aqua eyes seemed darker than usual. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, and before she could stop herself, she brushed it away from his face, her hand sliding down to linger on his cheek.
Vash's eyes widened slightly, their color deepening even more. As Meryl began to pull her hand back, he took it in his own. Keeping her gaze all the while, he kissed her palm.
She froze; held in thrall by both the light touch and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes dipped momentarily to her mouth before he slid his lips down to the inside of her wrist, kissing her once more.
Meryl stared at him, wide-eyed and incredulous until he placed a hand at her back and gently steered her into the house and towards their guests.
For the rest of the night, she managed to act as if nothing had happened, but her arm still tingled long after the party ended. She was cleaning up the kitchen alone, having sent Millie on to bed. Vash came in as she was finished, having just helped load the last drunken guest into a friend's car. Knives, of course, was nowhere to be found, tending to disappear when any mention of housework was made.
"Need any help?" he asked, leaning against the door.
"No," Meryl answered, wiping a dish dry. "I'm just about done." She covered an unfinished tray of salmon with foil and placed it in the refrigerator. Turning around, she saw him giving her the same look he had given her out on the porch.
"Don't." she said softly.
He looked perplexed, and she struggled to find the words to explain. "I mean…if it's…if you don't mean it…then don't." She turned back to face the counter, no longer able to look him in the eye.
He remained silent for a moment, then walked over to stand behind her. She refused to face him, but could hardly ignore the heat radiating from his form. His low voice soothed and inflamed her nerves all at once.
"Do you really think I would toy with you?" He asked. After a pause, she shook her head, still refusing to look at him. Vash began to trace light circles on her bare shoulder, and smiled as bumps rose in response.
"Good." He paused, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Because you know the goof isn't all there is to me…just like the insurance girl isn't all there is to you."
He lifted her seemingly boneless hand, and pressed it over her heart. "There's a romantic in there. You don't have to admit it, I can tell. Listen to her sometimes. I think she gets me." He finally stepped back from her and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Meryl to think on his words.
Meryl was torn between chagrin that her chase had been turned on her, and glee that the lips of Vash the Stampede had actually made contact with part of her body. And if he could reduce her to speechlessness just by kissing her wrist, she might be a gibbering idiot by the time it was all over.