Title: Equinox

Author: Rubious

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Humor, sexual situations, mild angst, voyeurism, hints of shoujo ai, AU-OOC.

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

 

Note: Sydney Rhudy has done a nice drawing of the insurance girls in their costumes. It can be viewed at www.geocities.com/odangodonut/mm_cosplay.jpg.

 

//thoughts//

 

Enjoy the story.

* * * * *

            Climbing down from the ladder, the balding carpenter stepped back, doffed his cap to wipe his sweaty brow with his sleeve, and gazed up with a satisfied expression at the banner he had just attached to the pole, so that it stretched above the main thoroughfare of New Oregon.

            “Ooooh. Welcome to the Fall Festival,” the voice of a brunette chirped from behind him, reading the newly hung sign.

            Turning around quickly, the man was surprised by the presence of the four newcomers. He surmised by their luggage, their tired faces, and dusty clothes, the group had recently arrived on the bus from May City. A petite woman with dark hair, a black-suited man toting a large cross, and a spiky-haired blond man in a scarlet duster accompanied the tall woman who had spoken.

            “When is the festival?” inquired Meryl Stryfe, who was dressed in a white cloak.

            “Tomorrow. The town celebrates the autumnal equinox with a big party. The highlight is a costume contest in the town square with lots of great prizes,” the carpenter explained.

            “Wow! That sounds like fun!” exclaimed Milly Thompson.

            Meryl agreed with her co-worker’s sentiments. The festival and masquerade contest would be a welcome diversion from the constant traveling and run-ins with would-be bounty hunters hungry to claim the $$60 billion reward for capturing the Humanoid Typhoon.

            “It looks like your friend there is ready to compete in the contest,” the man commented, noticing Vash standing behind Meryl, “and he’s done a fine job of making a

Vash the Stampede costume.”

            Before the real Vash could respond, Meryl poked him with her elbow and glared. //Don’t you dare say anything stupid. We certainly don’t need to create any unnecessary attention.//

            “I wanted to get a head start on everybody else,” replied the blonde outlaw. Wolfwood rolled his eyes and began to edge away from the group.

            Meryl felt uneasy and quickly changed the subject. “Can you tell us where we could find the nearest lodging?”

            The helpful man paused for a moment and then directed them to a boarding house several blocks away.

            “Thank you,” Milly said.

            “Have a good time at the festival,” the handyman called out as the group departed.

            “We will,” they responded in unison.

            When the foursome was out of the man’s hearing range, Wolfwood stopped and doubled over giggling, unable to suppress the laughter building within him.

            “Wolfwood, what’s so funny?” Vash asked slightly annoyed.

            “Please tell us, Mr. Priest,” Milly added insistently.

            The preacher leaned against the doorjamb of the shop they were passing by for support. Pointing at Vash and taking a deep breath, he said slowly, “You are, needle noggin,” before lapsing into another fit of guffaws.

            “Huh?” The legendary outlaw arched an eyebrow quizzically in response.

            Wolfwood waited for the mirth to subside before continuing. “The look on your face was priceless when that guy thought you were a Vash wannabe.”

            Meryl began chuckling. “This is the first time somebody thought you weren’t the real thing.”

            En route, the group passed by residents making last minute preparations for the festival. Shopkeepers put the finishing touches on window displays. Milly admired the stylish dresses in a boutique’s window promoting the shops “Fall into Glamour” sales event, but she blanched at the prices, which were more than her biweekly paycheck.

            Continuing on their way, the travelers reached the boarding house and found out the accommodations were limited due to the festival. Only two rooms were available. The men would take the empty room on the second floor while the women would share the available room on the first floor.

            The rest of the day was spent quietly. The women completed the latest paperwork to send to the Bernardelli main office. Wolfwood collected donations for the orphanage by hearing confessions and returned with his church-shaped collection box full of coins. Vash wandered through the town, searching for places that served his favorite food, donuts.

            In the late afternoon, Milly told her associate she was going to look for costumes for tomorrow’s festivities. “Do you have any preferences?”

            “No maid outfits. Those are too embarrassing,” Meryl firmly stated.

            “Okay. No maid outfits,” the taller woman repeated, heading out the door.

            “Get the right size,” the senior agent reminded the somewhat scatterbrained partner, noting that Milly had previously purchased items for others in the wrong size.

With her co-worker gone to the costume rental shop, Meryl began working on paperwork, including the delinquent expense reports the home office was demanding.

Could she come up with a suitable explanation to justify costume rental as a proper business expense? Employee morale was the best reason she could think of for the Bernardelli bean counters. Her brainstorming was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Who is it?” she called out in an annoyed voice.

“Meryl, my hands are full of bags. Could you open the door please?” the brunette replied.

“In a minute,” the irritated agent said, displeased at having concentration interrupted.

            “Thanks, Meryl,” the brunette said, entering the room with several bags filled with packages. “The bags were getting heavy.”

            “Well, what costumes did you get?” the dark-haired woman asked curiously.

            “Um, I can say you won’t have to dress up as a maid” Milly replied evasively.

            “Thank goodness,” Meryl said, relieved.  “Can I see them?”

            “No, it’s a surprise.  You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Milly,” growled Meryl. //Why won’t she show me the costume? Is it too outlandish? Is she afraid I won’t like it?//

Her analytical mind sorted through the possibilities; including the outside chance that this was part of a practical joke the others were playing on her. The idea faded from her mind as the rest of the night was spent having dinner at a restaurant that had been recommended by the desk clerk and catching up on some much needed sleep.

* * * *

            Licking the chocolate icing from the cruller, Vash savored the goodness of the freshly baked donut as it warmed his insides on the first chilly morning of autumn. On his way back from the bakery to the boarding house, the blond gunman stopped in the alley, thinking he had heard the shouting voice of Meryl Stryfe.

            Pausing, the Humanoid Typhoon realized he was behind the boarding house and remembered the two insurance girls shared a room on the first floor. He decided to find out the cause of the disturbance. When the boarding house replaced its windows, the frames had been poorly caulked, leaving small cracks for air to flow through and at this moment, a voyeuristic Vash the Stampede to peer inside.

            What Vash saw was another aspect of the petite insurance investigator he’d only envisioned in his vivid imagination. With her back to the window, Meryl was changing into the costume Milly had chosen for her. Vash caught a glimpse of her bare breast. //Oh, man. This is unbelievable! The insurance girl is half-naked in front of me. I gotta tell Wolfwood about this.// He took a deep breath and ducked down to compose himself.

            The peeping Stampede inched back to the window for another view, but was disappointed to see Meryl was fully clad in her outfit. He figured it was time for him to get ready for the costume contest.

 

            Inside the room, Meryl Stryfe rubbed her hands together briskly, trying to keep warm in the nippy air that blew through the poorly caulked windows, unaware of the presence of the ogling outlaw outside. A frown formed on the disappointed insurance investigator’s face. She was upset with the costume Milly had selected for her and being forced to wait until this morning to find out what the outfit was. Looking into the floor-length mirror on the closet door, Meryl crinkled her nose at the reflected image of herself dressed in a white stretch-fabric top with a scooped neckline tucked into a green miniskirt with a sky blue bow on the back, white elbow-length gloves, and navy blue knee-high boots. Meryl called out to her associate, “Milly, why did you pick this outfit?”

            Milly Thompson peeked out from the bathroom. “Meryl, the store only had that one costume left in your size,” the taller woman explained. She emerged from the room to unveil her outfit. The brunette wore a white top similar to Meryl’s, a teal miniskirt with a lavender bow, and ankle-high leather boots. White elbow-length gloves completed the ensemble.

            “Do you like it?” Milly asked, twirling around in front of Meryl to give her a better view.

            “Uh, it’s nice,” the smaller woman answered. She paused, not wanting to confess she was envious of the brunette’s shapely assets. On the occasions when they had shared cramped quarters on sand steamers, Meryl had compared Milly’s figure with her own. The stretch fabric accentuated Milly’s curvaceous figure, making Meryl feel more self-conscious of her smaller measurements in comparison.

            “Thanks,” Milly said, admiring herself in the mirror.

            “I look like a showgirl in that risqué revue that’s playing in May City,” complained the dark-haired woman. . 

            “Oh, are you going to audition then?” the brunette teased.

            “Humph,” Meryl snorted, not pleased at the prospect of going out in public in such a skimpy outfit.

            Milly’s slender fingers touched the shoulders of her reticent friend reassuringly. “Your skirt and top are a perfect fit and show off your figure nicely. I’m sure you’ll receive a few compliments,” she said cheerfully.

            “But not as many as you,” Meryl mumbled. Embarrassing attire and lecherous onlookers weren’t going to detract from the woman from enjoying the festival.

* * * * *

            The residents of New Oregon had completed the autumnal-themed decorations for the festival. Orange and black bunting with red and yellow streamers decorated windows and doorways. Carved gourds in various orange hues, some with happy designs, others with more mischievous faces, sat on many porches and windowsills. Some had lit candles inside, their flames seemingly winking at passersby. Cooler temperatures prevailed as summer faded into autumn.

            A veritable sea of white, bronze, and purple chrysanthemums and other fall blooms were the centerpiece of the landscaping in the town square. Booths selling hot cider, caramel apples, and festival souvenirs lined one side of the park.

            Vash the Stampede and Nicholas Wolfwood stood outside of the boarding house in the early hours of the afternoon, waiting for the insurance girls to arrive for the Fall Festival. The blonde nudged his friend and whispered, “You won’t believe what I saw this morning.”

            The dark-haired man leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. “Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

            “I’ll wait for the girls to get here. It’ll be better if they hear it too,” Vash said, a smug look on his face. Anticipating Meryl’s ballistic response, he delighted in occasionally provoking the no-nonsense insurance agent into losing her temper.

            Wolfwood exhaled the acrid cigarette smoke, its bitterness remaining in his lungs. Today he felt naked without his Cross-Punisher, but it wasn’t needed as part of his costume. He was in the guise of a vampire, attired in a black tuxedo with matching cape and his shades. His comrade, the Humanoid Typhoon, was outfitted in clown gear. A red wig covered Vash’s spiky blonde locks. Big red dots were painted on the outlaw’s cheeks along with an exaggerated smile. Vash wore a yellow clown suit with ruffled sleeves and huge floppy shoes.

            “Here they are,” Wolfwood announced, nudging Vash at the sign of the women.

            “Mr. Vash? Mr. Priest?” Milly said hesitantly, unsure if the two men dressed in the costumes were her traveling companions.

            Meryl snickered at the sight of the infamous outlaw in a clown get-up. It was fitting though since he did act like a buffoon occasionally.

            Wolfwood peered from behind his shades, blue eyes staring at the two women standing before him. “2, 4, 6, 8. Who do we appreciate?” he chanted in a singsong voice.

            “Milly and Meryl!” Vash cheered, his green eyes ogling their outfits. //Seeing this in person is a lot better than peeking through a window.//

            “Go Bernardelli!” Milly shouted, striking a pose with her hand on her hip.

            “Who the hell do you think we are?” Meryl snapped, her blue-gray eyes glaring at the men, her clenches fists resting on her hips.

            “Aren’t you cheerleaders?” Wolfwood asked, his innocent smile revealing the little fangs that were part of his ensemble.

            “Mr. Priest, what big teeth you have,” the taller woman said playfully.

            Wolfwood accepted the remark with a devilish grin and replied slyly, “The better to eat you with, my dear.”

            “Damn it, we aren’t cheerleaders,” the dark-haired agent snarled, “and we’re not Little Red Riding Hood either!”

            Hoping to lighten the moment, Vash complimented Meryl on her costume. “You should really show off that cute beauty mark on your…”

            Thoughts raced through the surprised woman’s mind. //How did he know about that mole? Wait a minute. He must’ve seen me changing clothes!//

            Before Vash could finish the sentence, the irate investigator’s anger exploded. “Bastard! You sick pervert! How dare you watch me get dressed?”

            Milly held back her associate from physically attacking the amused gunman, but Meryl hurled a constant stream of invectives at him. “And if I had my derringers I shoot you, pervert!” She railed on about his juvenile behavior.

            Wolfwood snickered at the Stampede’s plight. “Vash, you should’ve told me that privately. Not in front of the ladies. And especially not in front of Meryl. You’ve really dug a hole for yourself this time.”

            Meryl took a deep breath and felt her co-worker’s grip loosen. Still upset at the outlaw’s actions, she felt relaxed now that she had expelled her rage in the verbal assault directed at Vash. She watched him stand there, an odd smile on his face. Not wanting to hear his feeble explanation, she said brusquely, “Wolfwood, get that bastard out of my sight.”

            Wolfwood complied with her request and steered Vash towards the town square.

            “Feeling better now?” the concerned brunette inquired.

            “A little. But I could use a stiff drink now,” replied an exhausted Meryl.

           

            The vampire and the clown meandered their way through the large group of people gathered in the town square. They reached the refreshment area and devoured donuts and sandwiches. Their appetites satisfied, the pair walked over to the games area of the festival. Children ran merrily about, parents keeping a watchful eye on their offspring. Red-shirted deputies stood around the square, acting as the security detail.

            “You still haven’t said why you did it?” Wolfwood repeated the question he’d been asking all afternoon, determined to get a straight answer from his friend.

Each time, Vash replied mysteriously, “I have my reasons” and winked.

Three children dressed as a cowboy, a nurse, and an angel, were bobbing for apples  “That looks fun. Mind if I join in?” Vash asked the adult in charge, who wore a llama in pajamas costume. The llama nodded.

Vash crouched down over the water-filled barrel, his arms at his side. Wolfwood snuck up behind the unsuspecting Stampede and gently pushed him forward. The clown fell face-first into the barrel, spilling water and apples onto the ground. His wig had fallen off and his makeup was smeared. He clenched an apple in his teeth. “Yeah! I got one!” he shouted gleefully and began laughing hysterically like a madman.

The llama had been ready to call for the red-shirted security staff to deal with the disturbance, but was relieved to see the clown didn’t become violent. The adult wondered whether Bad Llama Security could’ve prevented the mishap.

The blonde man turned around quickly to chase after Wolfwood, whose fangs were bared, who had vanished into the crowd. In his haste to catch the jokester vampire, he tripped over his floppy shoes and stumbled into a trough, resulting in Vash getting drenched again.

            Exiting the saloon where she had several much-needed drinks that were bought for her by admiring men, Meryl rushed over to the sodden outlaw and offered him a hand to help him out of the trough. Milly arrived a moment later.

            “Thanks,” Vash said gratefully, stepping out of the trough. Emerald eyes gazed at the woman in the tight, form-fitting costume in front of him. “In this light you look like…”

            Waiting for him to finish his words, the petite insurance investigator knew Vash didn’t mean any harm by his remarks, but she couldn’t figure out why he occasionally provoked her. His green orbs twinkled yet held no signs of malice. There was something about the notorious gunman that intrigued her.

            “…you might’ve put on a few pounds.”

            “VASH!” Meryl screamed and dunked Vash’s head back under the water. “What an ignorant prick!” she growled before storming off. On her way back to the boarding house, the incensed woman kept muttering, “Stupid costume! Stupid Vash!”

            The surprised Stampede didn’t expect such a furious reaction.

            Turning to the wet man dripping in the dust, puddles of water forming at his feet,

Milly seethed at the way the Humanoid Typhoon had insulted her close friend, Wagging her finger at him, she warned, “Mr. Vash, you’ve really upset Meryl. Remember there are two things you don’t comment on to a woman. One is her age and the other is her weight. Don’t you forget it! Now I have to leave to find Meryl and try to calm her down.”

The brunette spun around on her heels and hurriedly left in a search for her associate to offer her comfort.

            Nicholas Wolfwood was in the crowd of onlookers that witnessed the incident. The chain-smoking vampire puffed away on another cigarette and snickered at the plight of the hapless buffoon.

            Approaching the dripping clown, he offered his cape as a towel to wipe the face paint running down Vash’s cheeks, which the outlaw appreciatively accepted. “Vash, you know you’re such an idiot. C’mon, I’ll buy you a beer and give you some pointers in the fine art of wooing women,” Wolfwood said reassuringly, draping his arm across the shoulder of his friend on their way towards the nearby saloon

 

            As the double suns crossed the azure sky, the rising temperatures matched the growing fury of an angry woman, leading the Humanoid Typhoon to avoid the raging storm that Meryl Stryfe had become.

 

The End

 

AUTHOR’S NOTES

[1.] Dedicated to three extraordinary people who accompanied me on our own Journey to the West this summer, Sandy, Amanda, and Lauren. Wonderful times, wonderful food, and wonderful company. Ladies, this fic’s for you. And I’ll see you again at Neko.

[2.] My stories are archived at fanfiction.net under “Rubious”, at www.mediaminer.org under “Rubious” and at my home page, “Odango and Donuts”, www.geocities.com/odangodonut.

[3.] Feedback can be sent to trigunotaku@aol.com.