Title: Drawn to Danger [8/8]

Author: Rubious

Series: Trigun & Get Backers

Rating: R

Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.

Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.

Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.

Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.

Comments can be e-mailed to trigunotaku@aol.com.

Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.

//thoughts//

 

* * * * *

The rain had dwindled to an intermittent drizzle when authorities reached the scene. Still shaken by the events, Meryl shivered in her wet clothes as she gave a statement to a detective. Holding an umbrella a police officer had given him in order to keep the witnesses dry during questioning, Wolfwood whispered to Milly, “We have to take Meryl somewhere quiet, away from all this madness.”

 

Milly agreed, “We’ll have to stop at the hotel first and change out of these wet clothes. I don’t want to come down with a cold.”

 

“We could all use a good stiff drink to warm these cold bones, but Meryl needs it most of all after today,” Wolfwood remarked.

 

A detective named O’Malley gestured for them to come over. “That wraps it up here. I’ve taken all of your statements, but don’t be leaving town for a few days in case we have any more questions for you regarding our investigation.” He ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape that had been strung around the area. Glancing back, he told Milly and Wolfwood, “The little lass isn’t looking too good.” He departed and chased after the coroner’s vehicle where the corpse had been loaded into a body bag and would be taken to the mortuary. An autopsy would be performed later.

 

After returning to the hotel, the insurance investigators showered and changed into fresh clothes. Looking at her reflection in a mirror, Meryl saw that her eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from her weeping. She tried smiling, but it was only a façade to hide the traumatic vortex she felt herself being pulled down into.

 

“Let’s go, Meryl,” Milly suggested gently, appearing behind her partner. “Mr. Priest is meeting us downstairs.

 

“Okay,” the tired woman sighed. “I guess I should eat something.” The pair exited their suite and met Wolfwood in the hotel lobby.

 

They walked a short distance down the street to a small saloon. The late afternoon storms had cooled the temperatures from the searing heat of the day; there was a definite nip in the night air. Seeing Meryl shiver, Wolfwood instinctively removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

 

Pulling the coat tightly around her, she said softly, “Thank you.”

 

Knowing she had undergone a stressful day, Wolfwood replied, “No problem. You don’t need to add getting a cold to everything that’s happened today.”

 

Milly smiled maternally, grateful for the compassion the preacher had shown to their friend. Looking at the sign in the window, she asked, “Is this the place, Mr. Priest?”

 

“Yeah, it is,” he answered. As they entered the saloon, Wolfwood observed the dimly lit room was quiet. Ceiling fans spun slowly while the bartender played solitaire and a bored waitress buffed her nails listening to the radio play in the background. //This is perfect. Not too loud on the ears and not too bright on the eyes.//

 

He strode over to the bar and placed an order for soup and sandwiches for the three of them. Joining the two women at a table near the rear of the room, Wolfwood stated, “I ordered some hot tomato soup and ham sandwiches for us.”

 

Ten minutes later, the waitress brought over their soup and sandwiches, which were quickly eaten by the hungry trio. “There’s nothing like comfort food to warm the tummy,” Milly said in a satisfied voice.

 

Wolfwood motioned to the brunette and remarked, “Pardon us, Meryl, but I have to discuss something with Milly privately.”

 

“Don’t mind me,” the dark-haired woman said flatly. Though the hearty meal sated her appetite, it didn’t combat the emptiness she felt inside.

 

By the bar, Wolfwood glanced back at Meryl and then spoke to her partner in a hushed voice, “She’s hiding the pain, but she must be going through an emotional hell. It’s time for this.” He pointed to a tray with a fifth of whiskey and three shot glasses on it.

 

“How is alcohol going to help?” Milly asked.

 

“It’ll dull the pain. The dam’s about to burst and she’s gotta let it out. We’ll keep her glass filled, but barely touch ours. Somebody’s gotta stay sober.” The pair returned to the table with the drinks; their chairs scraped on the wooden floor as they were pulled out, the noise making Meryl wince.

 

“It’s time for a toast,” the preacher said, pouring the amber liquid into the shot glasses. “To Ban and Ginji,” he saluted as the three clinked their glasses together in a toast to their absent colleagues.  Meryl gulped the alcohol down, feeling it sear her throat on its way down. The others barely sipped their drink.

 

“To Meryl, for cracking the case,” Milly offered, watching Wolfwood refill Meryl’s glass.

 

The subject of the toast drained her glass and slammed her glass down on the table. “What did I do that’s so special?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “A man is dead because of me.” Tears welled up in bluish-gray eyes.

 

“You stopped a bastard from hurting more people,” Milly said, consolingly.

 

“You were doing your job, Meryl. It was either kill or be killed. That guy was going for your gun. You had no idea if he was going to use it on you,” Wolfwood said, trying to reason with the distraught woman.

 

Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that Milly offered her, Meryl paused and then blubbered, ‘I killed Deke Blaine this afternoon. I’m a murderer plain and simple. I belong in jail with the other criminals.”

 

“Bullshit, Meryl. You’re not a murderer. Even if it went to trial, any jury in their right mind would acquit you because it was a case of justifiable self-defense,” Wolfwood replied stormily as he refilled her glass with whiskey. “Have another drink.”

 

“I think I know why she’s hurting so much,” Milly commented, which elicited an arched eyebrow from the preacher. “Blaine was a family friend. I doubt she’s ever killed anyone who was close, even if it was an accident. Is that right, Meryl?”

 

The diminutive drunk paused and answered meekly, “Yes. I’ve seen a lot of people get hurt and even die on this job, especially since we were assigned to follow Vash. But this is the first anyone close to me died as a result of something I did. It’s my fault Blaine’s dead.”

 

‘No, it’s not,” Wolfwood said. He refilled her glass covertly as they listened to Meryl ramble on. Soon the exhaustion from the hectic day and the alcohol she had imbibed had taken its toll on her and she fell asleep on the table. Her hand knocked over a shot glass, spilling the whiskey. Milly mopped it up with a napkin.

 

“When we had Blaine cornered, that was the first time I ever heard you use such strong language,” he said.

 

Milly touched the preacher’s hand and smiled. “It’s so unlike me, but Blaine was such a horrible person who made me furious. I couldn’t contain my anger.”

 

The waitress brought over their bill, which Milly paid for with the Bernardelli credit card. As the preacher and the brunette helped the inebriated investigator out of the saloon and back to the hotel, Wolfwood declared, “Mission accomplished.”

 

“Mr. Priest?” Milly glanced at him quizzically.

 

“As concerned friends, we did our duty to help her out in her time of need. When Meryl wakes up in the morning, she’s gonna have a helluva hangover. The main thing is the booze helped ease the pain. Keep a close eye on her, okay?“

 

“Don’t worry. I will,” the tall woman replied.

 

The walk back to the hotel was cumbersome as they escorted the groggy Meryl, who had been awakened by the jostling movements and the nippy outside air. After entering the hotel, they took the elevator to the fourth floor and went to the women’s suite. Milly unlocked the door and helped her partner inside, where Meryl promptly collapsed onto a bed.

 

“I’ll stop by tomorrow and see how she’s doing after I visit Ban in the hospital. Have a good night.” Wolfwood said from the hallway before he left.

 

“Good night, Mr. Priest,” Milly called out as she closed the door.

* * *

The next day, Wolfwood stopped by the shooting range where Frank Marlon returned the revolver the newly repaired revolver to the preacher. “Thanks again for fixing Vash’s gun.”

 

As Wolfwood turned to leave for the hospital to visit Ban, the gunsmith called out, “So are the rumors true about Deke Blaine? Did he really hire Neon’s gang to kidnap a bunch of women and hold ‘em for a huge ransom? I heard that of the hostages killed him when he tried to stop them from escaping.”

 

Wolfwood chuckled at how far the rumor mill had stretched the truth about yesterday’s events. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” he cautioned.

 

A short time later, the visitor reached the nurse’s station in the hospital and was directed to the room where Ban Mido was recuperating from the gunshot wound inflicted by one of the Bad Lads the day before. The Get Backer had undergone surgery and was resting comfortably. Sitting by his bedside was Ginji Amano, who was peeling an orange from a fruit basket; the card that came with the basket was inscribed, “Get well soon, Ban-kun. -Akabane.”

 

As the visitor entered, Ginji glanced up and greeted him happily, “Hello, Mr. Wolfwood\ Would you like a piece of my orange?”

 

Moving to the foot of the bed, Wolfwood declined the proffered fruit and asked Ban, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Weak and tired. The docs say I should be on my feet in under a week. I’ll have to rehab my leg before we go back to Shinjuku.” Ban had a pained expression on his face, but that faded as the painkillers in his IV took effect.

 

Wolfwood recounted the events of the afternoon before; “I stopped by to update you on what went down yesterday. Milly and Meryl figured out who had planned all of the robberies and went out looking for you guys. They arrived after Ginji went wild with his electricity and zapped Neon. The dude the girls was after tried to sneak away, but Milly spotted him. We chased him down and during the scuffle Meryl’s gun fired, killing him.”

 

Ban’s eyes fluttered for a moment. “Back up a second. You said Ginji fried some guys?” Wolfwood nodded. Ban turned his gaze to his partner and spoke in a scowling voice, “So Raitei showed up? What did I tell you about going Raitei on people/”

 

His brown eyes downcast at hearing the mild reprimand, Ginji apologized to Ban, “I’m sorry, Ban-chan. I had to do something. Those guys had hurt you, so I had to do something to stop them.”

 

The Jagan-user nodded and smiled. “Try not to let it happen again,” he said. Whatever anger he had felt towards Ginji quickly faded away.

 

Wolfwood observed the exchange with a keen eye, noting the devotion and dedicated friendship the two teens shared reminded him how intuitive his relationship with Vash the Stampede had been before the outlaw had disappeared.

 

Later that afternoon, the sharpshooting minister stopped by the City hotel to check on Meryl and Milly. They were in their temporary office in the conference room, working on the report they’d submit to the company on the Blaine incident. After greeting Wolfwood, Milly poured him a cup of fresh coffee.

 

He informed them, “I just came back from visiting Ban and Ginji at the hospital. Ban should be out and about in two weeks.”

 

“That’s good to hear. Right now, my head is pounding as if somebody’s been using it for an anvil,” Meryl replied.

 

Wolfwood lit a cigarette, drew in the smoke, and then slowly exhaled, watching the tendrils waft upwards. “Last night you told us about your father’s heart condition. Isn’t it ironic that the man who indirectly caused all of his problems dies from a gunshot to the heart?”

 

Milly pondered for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right, Mr. Priest.”

 

Opening a bottle of aspirin, the hung-over investigator swallowed two tablets with a glass of water. She hoped for some relief from the headache and tried to concentrate on the report. Work was the best remedy to keep occupied and not dwell on Deke Blaine, even though the report chronicling his downfall served as a constant reminder of painful emotions. “We have to get back to compiling this report for the home office.”

 

The trio chatted for several more minutes before Wolfwood rose up from his chair. “Ladies, I won’t be keeping you from your work any longer. Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?”

 

Her face brightening, Milly replied eagerly, “Definitely.”

 

Meryl added, “Sure. But no booze.”

 

The preacher grinned. “No problem. I’ll stop by around seven o’clock then.” That evening the three friends enjoyed a delicious meal.

* * *

Three weeks after the Quick Draw Tournament ended, Meryl and Milly sat in the Bernardelli employee lounge enjoying some coffee on their mid-morning break when a message came over the intercom. “Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, please report to Mr. Lamassi’s office.”

 

Looking puzzled, Meryl wondered why they were being summoned for a meeting with the boss. Her heart sank as she pondered if it possibly had to do with ramifications from the events in May City. The authorities had cleared her of any wrongdoing in regards to Deke Blaine’s death, ruling it a case of self-defense. The insurance investigators parted ways with Wolfwood and returned to December. After submitting a full report, they were given a short sabbatical and had returned to their duties a few days earlier.

 

Milly spoke hopefully, “Maybe he’s giving us a new assignment?”

 

The petite woman shrugged. ‘Let’s go. It’s the only way we’re going to find out.” The pair left the lounge and walked through the claims department, passing coworkers who whispered amongst themselves as the two women went by. Milly knocked on the manager’s door.

 

“Come in, “ he called out. The two women entered the office and shut the door.

 

“Meryl, Milly, it’s good to see you again. Please have a seat,” Lamassi said cordially. “How have you been?”

 

The two women sat down across from his paper-strewn desk. He noted that Meryl looked tentative while the brunette remained her usual cheerful self.

 

Milly answered, “Meryl’s doing a lot better. The first week back was really rough on her. But we’re both glad to be back at work.” Her partner smiled politely.

 

Lamassi nodded in sympathy and shuffled some papers on his messy desk. “Ah, here it is,” he said, finding a manila folder. “I asked you both here to go over the fallout from the Blaine case. The two of you have been awarded certificates of merit for your efforts in solving the fraudulent scheme perpetrated by Deke Blaine.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” the women replied in unison, each smiling graciously.

 

Lamassi went on to explain that the Bernardelli legal department had filed lawsuits against Blaine’s estate in an attempt to recover the defrauded funds from his assets. He also informed them that Ban Mido had been discharged from the May City hospital and had returned to Shinjuku with Ginji Amano.

 

“That’s good to hear,” Meryl said.

 

Opening the top drawer in his desk, he reached in and took out two envelopes and laid them on his desk. “There is another aspect of the Blaine case we have to discuss, the company credit card that was issued to you. After receiving the monthly statement, the accounting department compiled a report, indicating that you exceeded the card’s credit limit.” He recited from the list of expenses.

 

“A hotel suite? Isn’t that a tad extravagant, Ms. Stryfe? I advised you to use the card wisely,” he said in a firm voice, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Sir, our options were limited. Everything in town was booked,” Meryl said defensively.

 

“Do you remember what the repercussions were for exceeding the credit limit?”

 

“Yes,” she said meekly, her eyes downcast. Her mind raced back to the earlier meeting where infractions would lead to marks on their permanent record or possible termination.

 

Standing up, Lamassi picked up the envelopes on his desk and handed them to the two employees. “The company has made a decision on the penalties regarding the improper use of the company’s credit card and weighed them against your performances during the May City assignment. Please open the envelopes.”

 

Meryl glanced worriedly at her partner and then opened the envelope with trepidation, expecting a pink slip or notice of dismissal. Her eyes grew wide with surprise to find a ticket and reservations at a spa in Inepril. She turned to Milly, who squealed with delight upon finding the same contents in her envelope.

 

“Why?” a baffled Meryl asked Lamassi.

 

“Because you did a real bang-up job and saved the company thousands of double-dollars. You’ve both earned a vacation,” he said proudly.

 

“Thank you, boss,” the girls chorused. Milly stood up, walked over and hugged Lamassi, who gasped for breath from the tight embrace.

 

The brunette apologized, “I’m sorry,” and returned to her seat.

 

“Ladies, you might want to hurry. If you look closely at the tickets, you leave tomorrow,” Lamassi said benevolently.

 

Meryl smiled and got up from her seat. “Come on, Milly. We have to pack.” The two women scurried excitedly from the manager’s office. The office workers were startled to see them so happy because they expected the hammer to fall and the two investigators would be fired, not rewarded with a vacation.

 

As the insurance investigators hustled out of the building towards their apartment, Milly said excitedly, “I can’t wait to try one of those pudding baths at the spa.”

* * *

 

On a quiet afternoon in Shinjuku, Paul Wan, the proprietor of the Honky Tonk, was engrossed in the newspaper he was reading. Natsumi stood beside him, arranging glasses on the counter when the bell above the front door jangled and two familiar figures entered the café. Ban hobbled inside, using a cane as a support, followed by Ginji holding several packages.

 

The sixteen-year-old waitress greeted the long absent pair enthusiastically, “It’s so good to see you two again.”

 

Paul acknowledged their presence by setting down his newspaper. “I’m glad you’re back It’s been too quiet around here without you guys around. By the way, Hevn wanted to know when you returned. I’ll give her a call.”

 

As Ginji assisted the Jagan-user over to a booth, he declared, “It feels good to be home again.”

 

Ban agreed. “”I’m sick of seeing sand. The place we went to was a damned desert.” He paused to light a cigarette and took a drag from it. “By the way, we brought you guys back souvenirs from our trip.”

 

Lowering his glasses to glance over at the two youths, Paul remarked, “Really?”

 

“Yes, we did,” replied Ginji proudly, bringing the packages over to the counter. Paul unwrapped a medium-sized box that contained two ceramic beer steins, which he then placed on a shelf behind the bar to display.

 

“Thank you very much,” the proprietor commented, touched by their gesture of kindness.

 

“Ban and Ginji, thank you for the silver barrette,” Natsumi squealed delightfully. She replaced the old barrette she wore with the new one given to her by the Get Backers.

 

Paul noticed that Ban was limping when he entered the café. On previous occasions, the Get Backer had returned from assignments with his arm in a sling. Walking over to the booth, the businessman remarked, “I see that it wasn’t your arm that got that hurt. What happened?”

 

Stubbing out his cigarette into an ashtray, Ban exhaled the last tendrils of smoke and answered, “Got hit by a punk’s lucky shot, but he got his in the end.”

 

Ginji looked at his partner incredulously, not wanting to distract from the truth that Wolfwood had eliminated the shooter.

 

Natsumi brought over two steaming mugs of coffee for them. Ban sipped from his mug, inhaling the aroma of the piping hot liquid. “There’s nothing like fresh brewed java, especially when you’re back home.” He then dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a wad of currency. Frustration filled his voice when he spoke, “What are we going to do with this?”

 

In a concerned voice, Ginji queried, “What’s wrong, Ban-chan?”

 

His blue eyes narrowed, Ban stated, “Since we’ve returned to Tokyo, I can’t find anywhere to convert these double-dollars to yen. Every bank has turned me down.”

He took another sip of coffee and continued his grousing. “Lamassi told me there’d be no problem converting the currency upon our return. He lied.”

 

Ginji got up from his side of the booth, sat down next to Ban and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Ban-chan. We’ll find a way to convert the money. Maybe Master can help us out?” he said optimistically.

 

The youths glanced over at the proprietor, who nodded and replied, “I’ll see what I can find out.”       

 

Ginji’s face beamed at the prospects their problem would be resolved soon, but his growling stomach turned his attention to hunger. “Master, could you make a pizza for us?”

 

“Make it pepperoni,” Ban added, grinning.                               

 

Rolling his eyes, Paul replied, “You know this is going on your tab, right?” Life at the Honky Tonk had returned to its daily routine with the Get Backers waiting for their next client to walk in while their tab accumulated.

 

Like a sailor chasing a siren’s song, Ban and Ginji would not shy away from any assignment, regardless of the risks involved, whether it was as mundane as recovering a lost cat to deciphering the hidden secrets of Mugenjo

 

Danger was also an integral element in the lives of Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson. Was it destiny or just random chance that the two women found themselves in perilous situations in their duty of monitoring the Humanoid Typhoon? Many challenges would lie ahead for the duo and all of them pointed to Vash the Stampede.

 

* * *

THE END

 

Author’s Notes

[1] This fic is dedicated to the Angstmaster, Enigma, whose works have inspired many times. In the past, I had written mostly one-shots and humor-oriented stories. I wanted to expand my horizons and write a multi-chaptered angsty tale. Drawn to Danger is my longest work to date in terms of time spent, effort, and word count.

[2] TokyoPop is releasing the first volume of the Get Backers manga in February 2004.