COME DANCING

By Rubious

 

Rating: PG

Pairing: Vash + Meryl

Warning: AU, Romance, Humor, and WAFF.

SPOILERS: for the episode “Out of Time”

DISCLAIMER: Trigun © Yasahiro Nightow. This story is a work of fan fiction and is for entertainment purposes.

 

//thoughts

 

Previously: Wolfwood and Milly conspired to have Vash and Meryl join them for an evening out.

 

Chapter 2: The Dinner

 

Shadows lengthened during the waning hours of the afternoon. The outlaw and the insurance investigator stood outside of the boarding house in New Oregon waiting for their companions to arrive for dinner.  Meryl Stryfe tapped her foot on the ground impatiently and glanced at her watch for what seemed to be the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes. She sighed in frustration. “Where are they? Milly said to meet here at 5 o’clock.” A tinge of irritation hung in her voice.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here. Milly might be running late,” Vash replied, reassuringly.

“This is so like her. She has problems with tardiness. Once, she was late for week every day for three weeks. The boss was very upset. He made Milly do the window washing for a month as punishment,” Meryl recalled.

“That’s funny,” Vash remarked, imagining the tall woman on a scaffold cleaning windows on a multi-storied building.

“Vash, do you know where we’re supposed to go tonight?” she asked. Meryl had tired of standing and now sat on the boarding house’s front porch steps.

Sitting beside her, the donut-loving man replied, “Wolfwood mentioned a place in JR Town called Noir. It has a reputation for fine dining and dancing.”

“Dancing? I’m not wearing my dancing shoes,” Meryl said, a bit chagrined. She glanced down at her white suede ankle-high boots.

“I’m just a dancing fool,” Vash remarked, leaping off the steps and performing a jig in the dusty street.

The impromptu display brought a smile to Meryl’s face, although part of her wanted to reprimand him for his idiotic behavior. Tonight wasn’t the time for scolding.

Instead it was a night to forget her troubles and have fun.

            “I’m feelin’ footloose tonight!” the dancing gunman exclaimed, whirling about with his arms extended.

            “More like a screw loose,” teased Wolfwood, who had just arrived with Milly.

            “It’s about time!” complained Meryl. “You said you’d be here at 5.”

            “I thought I said 5:30. Sorry for the mix-up, Meryl,” Milly apologized.

            “Ladies, your chariot is here,” Wolfwood said, pointing to a long black luxury car with dark-tinted windows. The quartet walked over to the vehicle. Bowing chivalrously, the preacher opened the rear doors for the women to get in. Vash was giving him a quizzical look.  “It’s the best I could do on such short notice. Don’t tell the girls,” he explained.

            Turning the ignition key, Wolfwood pondered the situation. //I’m crossing my fingers they didn’t notice the gold lettering on the rear window. ‘F&F Funeral Service’.

They’d flip out if they knew they were being driven to dinner in a hearse.//

            “We should be in JR Town in thirty minutes,” Wolfwood announced as they departed for dinner.

* * ** *

            Inside Noir, Legato Bluesummers had a clear view of the restaurant’s interior from his vantage point behind the bar. His sources monitoring the movements of the Humanoid Typhoon told him the target would be eating at the club that evening. Armed with that information, Legato subtly persuaded the manager he and Midvalley would gladly fill the bartender and musician openings on Noir’s staff. He watched Midvalley rehearse with the house band on the stage. The attractive blonde lead vocalist flirted with the saxophone player between songs.

            Legato arranged the many bottles of liquor on the shelves behind the bar. He smiled, thinking about what would happen later.

//Yes, tonight is an excellent opportunity to inflict more suffering on Vash the Stampede. Master will be pleased with the result.//

 

After parking the hearse near the building, Wolfwood and the others entered the restaurant. The blonde hostess greeted the quartet. “Hello. Welcome to Noir. My name is Mireille. How many are in your party?”

“Four. We have reservations. The name is Wolfwood,” the preacher replied, his eyes ogling Mireille’s curvaceous figure.

“Follow me, please,” said the hostess.

The group was seated at a table overlooking the dance floor. Noticing her short skirt and sleeveless blouse, Meryl whispered to Mireille, “Aren’t you cold in that outfit?”

“No, it gets warmer as the night goes on,” she replied nonchalantly as she walked back to her station by the front door.

Glancing around at her surroundings, Meryl observed that Noir was dimly lit and tables were spaced not too far apart, giving the restaurant a closed-in feeling. Eyeing Vash across the table, he seemed more relaxed and at ease than he had been earlier. The gunman was clean-shaven and his turquoise eyes looked brighter. His jacket had been recently washed; even his boots were freshly polished.

Meryl waited for his words. //Would you say my name, something you rarely did.

I’m more than ‘that insurance girl’, Vash the Stampede. I have a name!//

            Hiding her disappointment at the omission of her name, Meryl paused as the waitress approached their table. She hadn’t even scanned the menu yet. Milly and Wolfwood were discussing which was better, the pasta or the meatloaf. Vash was set in his ways, salmon sandwiches. Meryl quickly decided on a salad and grilled chicken.

            Walking towards their table with the grace of a model in a fashion show, the slim waitress introduced herself, “Hello, I’m Amanda and I’ll be your server this evening.” Holding a pen and a small pad, she continued, “Would you like anything to drink? Tonight’s drink special is a lime daiquiri. We also feature fine Chablis from Soldats.”

            Vash glanced at the two women, who nodded. “Three lime daiquiris, please.”

            “And I’ll have a beer,” Wolfwood added.

            “Would you like any appetizers?” Amanda asked.

            “A plate of the savory donuts,” Vash said, happily.

            “Okay. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

            Five minutes later, the server returned with the daiquiris and Wolfwood’s beer.

            Wolfwood stood up from his seat.  Raising his mug filled with lager, he said, “Here’s to good friends, good times, and good food.” The others agreed and drank a toast.

            Time passed as the foursome chitchatted. Amanda brought the dish of appetizers to the table.  Emulating a hungry predator, Vash immediately swooped in on the stuffed donuts, gobbling them down like a wolf does a freshly killed deer.

            “Hey, leave some for us,” snapped Wolfwood, reaching for an appetizer before the ravenous blonde devoured them all.

            “Mr. Vash must be hungry,” commented Milly.

            “Those were delicious,” remarked Vash, dabbing his lips with a napkin to wipe away any of the cheese filling that had dribbled out.

            The waitress returned for their order. Wolfwood opted for the spaghetti while Milly picked the meatloaf. Meryl chose a salad and grilled chicken. Vash followed his routine of ordering a salmon sandwich.

            “Sir, we don’t have salmon sandwiches listed on the menu. We do have glazed salmon served with fettuccine.”

            “I’ll have that then,” the Stampede replied.

            As the waitress left, Meryl watched the spiky-haired blonde sip his daiquiri. “Next time please read the menu first.”

            “Doesn’t every restaurant have salmon sandwiches?” he responded.

            Milly signaled the preacher to intercede. “After dinner, would you like to go to a show? On the way here, I saw that ‘Zero Hour’ is playing at the Angst Theater a few blocks away,” Wolfwood suggested.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Milly said. “What do you think, Meryl?”

The petite woman had feigned interest in the conversation; she was trying to sort out her feelings for the troublesome outlaw. //You can be so irritating, but it’s your goofy innocence that’s so endearing. How can I hate you?//

Her co-worker repeating the question ended her distraction. “Sorry, Milly. Yeah, a movie sounds good.”

“Buttered popcorn and donuts. Yummy!” Vash proclaimed, looking forward to the night’s activities.

Milly changed the subject of the conversation because she didn’t want her friends to start bickering again. “I’m glad we’re not in November. They’re having unseasonably cold rain.”

“The forecast is always the same here, hot and sunny,” remarked the preacher.

The restaurant’s lights dimmed. A pair of floodlights lit up the stage where a sultry blonde in a scarlet off-the-shoulder gown stood at the microphone, a slender leg peeking from the deep slit in the slinky outfit There was a smattering of applause from the audience as the band started the first song, a lively number.

“Excuse me. I’m going to powder my nose,” Milly said, getting up from her seat.

She tapped Wolfwood on the shoulder and motioned for him to meet her by the bar. Their companions didn’t notice as their attention was focused on the stage.

            Two minutes later, Wolfwood fumbled in his coat pocket, pretending to look for his cigarettes. “Darn. I left ‘em in the car. I’ll be back,” he said softly, but the vocalist drowned his words out. The preacher slipped away, leaving the two alone at the table.

 

`            Wolfwood met his co-conspirator against the far wall near the bar. From there, they would be able to see the pair at the table and hopefully, the dance floor. “I hope this works,” Milly said.

            “I could use another beer,” the preacher declared.

            “One’s enough. Remember you’re the designated driver,” she stated.

            Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “I guess I got the short straw then.”

 

            At the table, Vash sat silently, letting the music wash over him like a wave crashing onto the shore. Shifting his gaze from the singer on stage to the dark-haired woman seated next to him, he admired her appearance; her blue-gray eyes filled with laughter, her golden earrings dangled, glinting in the reflected light.

            “Did you get a new cloak?” asked the admiring gunman, noting the garment draped over Meryl’s chair.

            She was taken aback by his comment. //He noticed my clothes! Maybe he won’t take me for granted anymore.//

            Pausing, she replied, “No, but I FINALLY got all the pink out after you washed it with your coat that time.”

            Vash laughed, recalling the laundry mishap. [1.]

            The band was now playing an up-tempo song. Several couples moved to make room for a man who was showcasing his dance moves as multi-colored lights pulsated frenetically. As the song ended, the dancers clapped, acknowledging his fine efforts.

            The songstress sang a soulful ballad, enticing more couples to dance together, some cheek-to-cheek.  Midvalley wailed a solo on his beloved saxophone, Sylvia, when he received a telepathic message from Legato Bluesummers. ‘The time is near.’

            Vash looked around and saw that the other two in the group hadn’t returned. “Wolfwood must’ve lost his smokes,” he declared.

            “And Milly went with him to get more. I’m tired of waiting,” said an impatient Meryl.

            Watching the activity on the dance floor inspired Vash. He turned to Meryl and speaking softly, asked, “Would you like to dance?”

            The petite investigator smiled warmly. “Yes, I’d love to.” The Humanoid Typhoon took her hand and guided Meryl Stryfe to the dance floor.

 

            From their vantage point, Nicholas Wolfwood and Milly Thompson watched their friends proceed to the dancing area. Milly nodded approvingly. Wolfwood smiled. “I love it when a plan comes together,” he quipped, desperately craving a cigarette.

 

[1.] The laundry incident occurred in my fic, “Pretty In Pink”.

[2.] Mireille is from Noir © the respective owners.

* * * * *

To be continued…