Vash the Stampede was doing he was used to, something that really didn't take much effort anymore

Monster

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Trigun characters

Ok, so I wrote this story about 3 years ago and have finally decided to post it, cuz back then I wasn't that into Fan Fiction. Sorry if it's written poorly, blame my past self! Oh yeah, and this is fluffy to the max! And as much as I love fluff, this kind of seemed like too much; let's just say I'm not so fluffy per say anymore

Vash the Stampede was doing what he was used to, something that really didn't take much effort anymore. Like the good blonde gunman he was, protecting someone was natural thing to him. What he was protecting, however, or rather who he was protecting, was not natural.

Most people he had protected in the past he had not known that well, so it had allowed him the luxury of worrying less, resulting in making everything so much easier. Not under stress, it was easy to protect and defend, but under stress…He was constantly worried, constantly tensed and ready to defend. Just like he was now.

He scanned everything they passed, making sure it was safe, eyeing the people wearily for signs of suspicion, ensuring everything was safe; or more accurately ensuring she was safe. As in she, he meant the small, dark haired beauty of an insurance girl that was his friend and helper. And the person he secretly harbored feelings for. And that little detail made his job about five times harder than all the others, because all the others were not Meryl Stryfe.

He could not exactly pinpoint when he had begun developing feelings for the petite insurance girl. She had saved his life more times than he could count and always bandaged up his wounds. Could it possibly be because she took care of him? No matter the type of injury she was there, always there to reprimand him, save him, put him in his place.

She yelled at him a lot, insulted his intelligence and odd appearance, yet he never took offense. Somehow when she yelled at him and beat him down, he did not mean, rather liking the humility rather than hating it. After all, Vash the Stampede, he always felt, was always held in too high of esteem. And the way she yelled at him was oddly…appealing. The way her dark silver eyes would light up with such a passionate rage, the way her tiny red mouth would twist into a scowl that accentuated her lovely features…She simply stunned him when she was angry, and so, against everything, he always tried to get her that way.

The way her raven hair contrasted perfectly with her pale smooth skin, how her eyes changed from dark to light depending on her mood. She was intelligent, humorous, fiery and gorgeous and everything, everything to him.

The risk of her getting hurt, the mere thought of it, both frightened and enraged him. What would he possibly do if she was ever hurt? If she ever….died? In his minds eye, in that deep, dark area that had been forged through countless battles, he saw her lifeless silver eyes staring up at him, saw her still body lying in a pool of crimson. The image stuck and no matter what he did he could not get it out of his head, and it constantly haunted him. Even now, as she walked along beside him, smiling and content and perfectly safe, the fear, the image, stayed, flourishing, hurting him. He'd die before he let her get hurt…

"Vash?" Her sweet—albeit shrill—voice broke his disturbing thoughts, and shaking himself slightly he looked over to her questioningly, his aqua eyes meeting her silver ones, which were shining up at him in the most endearing way. He noticed that she was angry, her perfect face scrunched in a scowl, and he mentally shivered; she looked stunning….

"Vash, what are you doing?!" Through a mind clouded by her he heard her ask, and through glazed eyes he watched her face. Didn't she know what he was doing?

"Protecting you," he stated matter of factly, and watched slightly mesmerized as her eye narrowed and her scowl darkened.

"I know that!" she snapped back, "But why are you holding my arm?!"

He blinked at her, looking down to see that his large hand was in fact wrapped around her slender upper arm.

Swallowing hard he quickly removed it, trying desperately to push down his rising blush. Clearing his throat rather loudly he glanced down, avoiding those stunning eyes of hers.

"Um, I sense danger…" he lied quickly, walking faster so that he was ahead of her, mentally cursing himself. Why had he done that? He had not even realized he had been touching her! Being around her was no longer safe anymore, and his feelings were slowly beginning to creep their way out into the world, into his actions. And if it continued, who knew what might happen? Maybe he'd actually do what he had always been longing to do and kiss her. God that would be a wondrous disaster!

She'd probably never talk to him again if that happened, and he'd loose her as a friend, a risk that was not worth taking, no matter how much he wanted to take it. He'd have to isolate himself from her for awhile, if not forever, until he got his thoughts and emotions in control. And considering the enormity of those feelings, it would certainly take awhile! Perhaps a hundred years?

Not to mention that he was practically trapped with her as long as she was under his protection. He'd have to constantly watch her, constantly be with her. The idea was appealing, but the outcome was bad. How could you avoid someone you had to be with? Right now all he could wonder about was if he'd have to protect her from himself.

"Did the danger pass?" she inquired, and he could detect a hint of worry in that sweet voice of hers. He cringed at it, guilt creeping in when he realized it was because of his lie. Quickly he tried to amend the situation and ease her worry.

"Oh, yeah, it's gone, but you see, I thought there was danger, even though I'm pretty sure now that there was never any to begin with, hahaha…" he laughed nervously, reaching up a glove clad hand and running it through his spiky golden tresses. Amazingly, due to the amount of hair gel he used, the spikes barely budged, remaining steadfast in their upward point atop his head.

This, along with various other small things, was what his assignment always seemed to notice. It was not as though she truly wanted to notice these little quirks of his, but she always happened to end up seeing them. In fact, she had been inadvertently noticing them for about six months now, when she first began to develop strange, intense feelings for the blonde gunman. By 'strange' she meant far too friendly feelings.

Was it normal to envision kissing just your friend? Or wanting to mention your friend in every conversation? Would you want to desperately make out with just a friend? Though she would not admit it, even though she already pretty much knew it, she definitely did not want to think of Vash as just a friend anymore.

Everything about him, every miniscule little detail, she could not help but notice, all those little details coming together to fabricate the man who had stolen her heart. To her, his little habits, those little details, put together made him, the man she loved, both the annoying and endearing ones. Even as he stuffed his face with donuts he somehow managed to look handsome, which was a hard feat considering how sloppily he ate. Every expression, every emotion she adored, watching it flit across his face, through his sea green eyes. Those eyes that left her breathless…

Not that she'd ever let him know that though. Her feelings for him were strictly confidential, to be known by no one but herself. And sometimes she did not even want to believe them. I mean, loving someone like Vash the Stampede? Who knew what could happen! And if there was one thing she hated, it was the unknown. The unknown was a scary, shadowy thing that could bring either happiness or despair. And with Vash, she guessed that it would always be the latter.

How could she love someone who was constantly hunted? If they were to become a couple, which she highly doubted would ever happen; she'd have to go from place to place with him. Could she really do such a thing? Could she really have no home, no place to return to, live the life of an outlaw? She'd have to leave too many loved ones behind, far too many, and she was sure she could never do that, could never live without them.

But…

Vash. His name, that wonderful name, flashed through her mind and blurred the faces of her loved ones, and she knew that if she did not go with him, then she'd lose him; she'd have to leave him behind. Could she…Could she really do that?

As her gaze landed on the ruggedly handsome outlaw next to her, who was currently scanning the quiet town they walked through, she knew the answer. It came directly from her heart, loud and screaming.

No. No, she couldn't. She could never leave him, never go without him. That was why she already followed him around from town to town, so already it was like she didn't have a home to begin with. In fact, deep inside, she recognized her home as wherever he was, even though it killed her to admit it.

She did not really mind her feelings for him, no. It was not like she resented them, she never could, because that would be like resenting him. No, it wasn't her feelings she was afraid of anymore; it was him.

What would he say? What would he say when she finally worked up the courage to confess to him? How would he react? Would he shun her, freak out on her? Those were the unanswered questions that haunted her, and the only way to get them answered was to tell him, confess her love and her ultimate weakness and lay her heart out for him.

Would he feel the same? Rejection was her biggest fear, the thought of him walking away from her forever, disappearing into the swirling desert sands. It was a possibility, perhaps too big of a possibility for her liking. She did not really want to know the consequences. At least, not today she didn't.

When someone harbored feelings for as long as she had for Vash, it could get exhausting. For six months they had been weighing at her conscious, constantly, insistently pressuring her to give in, to crumble. It was simply maddening! It grew even worse when she was around him, because she got to actually see him, hear his voice. And the words she longed to sey would jump to her lips ready to be released. Not that she would ever let them out…

…. 'Ever' really was a strong word, wasn't it? Ok, so she lied a little; she'd eventually tell him, eventually meaning in awhile. No matter how much harder it got not to tell him, she'd wait for the opportune moment, which had definitely not come yet….

…Right?

Frustrated at herself, an angry expression dawned on her once thoughtful face and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Vash visibly gulped at this change, his aqua eyes widening at her murderous expression. She was angry, very angry, but…why?

Blinking, he froze in horror as his mind entertained the idea that it was his fault. After all, that was usually the case with her; that angry, fiery, stunning expression was practically reserved for him, since he had yet to see her use it on anyone else before. And that…that filled him with an odd sense of joy. Knowing that she did something just for him, even if it was just an angry expression, made his heart flutter. As long as it was just for him, only him, he did not care what it was…

But really, why was she suddenly so angry? He did not believe that he had done anything…Or did she really just hate him that much? The happiness he had felt at her familiar look reserved for him began to fade, wear thin into a heavy look of despair that darkened his usually cheery soul and visage. A blank, stern look cemented on his features, and soon he was gazing at her with unreadable rather cold aqua eyes.

She hated him, plain and simple. She would never like him, not even as a friend and his feelings…They seemed comical now, pathetic and heartbreaking. Why would she love a monster like him? He hated how he was thinking, but could not break out of it.

Meryl, who was still lost in her inward ranting, finally snapped out of her Vash induced trance, causing the angry posture and expression she had unconsciously adopted to drop. That was when she noticed his expression. Silent and dark, he stared at her, his eyes hidden, his expression carefully blank and drawn. Her heart plummeted; a tiny gasp escaped her lips. This man…He was not the one that she loved…

"Uh…Vash?" she quietly called; dread overcoming her when his still expression did not waver. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and she could not figure it out. He looked…mad…Perhaps he was mad at her? She did not think she had done anything wrong, but then again, who knew? Maybe her questioning why he had had his hand on her arm had struck a chord. She did not even know why she had asked him to let go of her; it had felt so nice… She really was stupid, wasn't she?

"Vash, um…" What could she say? What should she say? 'I'm sorry' did not seem to be good enough, considering she had no idea what she'd be apologizing for. "Vash…" She could just say his name over and over again, relish the feelings of warmth and love that overcame her soul each time she said it. Vash…Such a wonderful name for such a wonderful man…

"I…" She swallowed hard, mustering up all of her courage. "I want to know if you're mad at something. If you're…mad at me…" There, she had said it. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, she forced herself to look in directly in the eye. She'd imagined every face he could have made except for the one he now bore: Utter and complete horror. What the-

"W-What?" he practically screeched, not really believing his ears. Had she just asked if he was mad at her?! No, no way, cuz she was mad at him! But then…Why was she staring at him in concern? Deep in those silver eyes of hers, shining brightly was an ill concealed concern that had him gaping. But…But…

"Are you angry at me?" she questioned again, anxiety threading lightly through her voice. That was enough to calm him down, and a smile immediately sprang back up on his features. Laughter, deep and true, that sent her blood pressure sky rocketing erupted from him. "You…hahaha…think I'm…ha…mad at…hahaha…at you?!" He managed to squeeze out between spurts of crazed laughter.

She twitched, feeling insulted by his rude, slightly obscene, laughter. Now she kind of missed the silent, mysterious Vash… "What's so funny about that? It's a decent question, considering how weird you suddenly got!" she snapped, the anger that always seemed to spring up around him flaring to life. Vash sobered up as soon as he saw her outraged expression, and instantly considered himself one dead outlaw.

"Er…um…" He was at a loss for words, staring into her crackling eyes.

"Stop stuttering! It makes you even more annoying!"

He shrunk back slightly, but managed to take the blow. "Yes Meryl…" he muttered, eyeing her wearily. Was she going to hit him or continue to verbally assault him? Personally he liked it when she hit him because one, she was a light hitter, and two, he got to get closer to her. He liked number two the best.

She was caught between the choices right now. Her fist was clenched and ready, but her mouth continued to let lose insults.

"That's right, act innocent! 'Yes Meryl'; stop acting with me Vash the Stampede, that's not who you are!" she growled, oblivious to the fact that the unique Stryfe rage was going through her. Why did he have to act so completely stupid all the time?! Why did he have to change? Where was the real Vash, the one she loved?!

He listened to her rant with half an ear, and not just because he did not want to. No…had that been a gunshot he had just heard? Straining his ears to the maximum extent, he heard no more, so resorted to his other senses. He could never be too careful… Dragging his eyes away from her beautifully furious face, he began to discreetly scan the area.

They had wandered, in their aimless walking, out into the middle of the desert a few yards away from the village, which was obscured and faded by several sand dunes. How exactly had he allowed them to come out here? He blamed Meryl and her beauty; if he had not been so absorbed in her…It was a poor excuse but the only one he had.

But this place was not safe. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he began scanning everything more thoroughly. In front of him, she still raved, growing even angrier when she noticed that his attention had strayed from her.

Growling in fury, she decided to take action; there was no way Meryl Stryfe would be ignored! Grabbing the collar of his red trench coat she stood on her tippy toes, trying to meet his eye but failing miserably, instead meeting only his chin. Trying to disregard the fact that his face was inches above hers and his warm breath was fanning across her face, she glared straight up into his wide aqua orbs. She failed to notice the cocking of a gun as she opened her mouth the reprimand.

"Hey, look at-" A single gunshot, loud and angry, pierced the air. She felt his arms go around her and hold her close, and before she could even blink she was lying on the hot desert sand, Vash hovering above her.

He had heard the gun and expected the shot. So using his quick reflexes he had managed to get them both out of harms way. Well, mainly her at least. As he gazed down into her shocked face, he felt pain run up his arm and knew that the bullet had nicked him. But he was alright and she had survived, and that was really all that mattered to him.

She began to move, trying to get out from underneath of him, but was stopped at the sharp glare he gave her, holding in a gasp at how unnaturally bright his aqua eyes were. Inhuman…

Silence. There were no more shots, but he knew better; he knew that they were only waiting for him to make the next move. He could feel their guns aimed at him and, dammit it all, her too. He tried to reign in his fear; how could he ensure that she stayed safe?

"Stay still and silent," he whispered lowly, and she had to strain her ears to hear him. She obeyed, wondering what was going on as her heart raced in her chest from the fear and feeling of him so close to her. Why weren't they shooting though? She felt him shift slightly, his hand slowly inching down to his hip, where his silver Colt rested.

His fingers grabbed the handle just as all Hell broke loose. A shower of bullets flew down at them, lethal rain that threatened to tear through them, and using his lightning fast speed he flung himself backwards, Meryl tightly clutched to his chest and aimed his gun up at the heads that poked up above the dunes, and fired.

He was careful not to kill any, methodically aiming right next to them, close enough to scare them, but far enough away so as not to hit them. He landed crouched down a foot away from where they had been, bullet casings riddling the ground at his feet.

She was wrapped around him, her legs around his middle, her arms locked around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. She clung to him desperately; her head still spinning from his quick actions as she tried t make sense of what had just occurred.

"That was not very nice!" Vash called, frowning at the laughter that answered him.

"It was not meant to be!" the voice of a man sneered back, more laughs following.

"Why are you aiming at us? We've done nothing wrong!" Vash called back, and the man who had spoken before snorted.

"Not recently no, Vash the Stampede! You are a menace that needs to be eliminated! We can not have you running around destroying life anymore!" There was such hate in the man's voice, such malice. Meryl's grip on Vash tightened as dreadful thoughts raced through her head. These men seemed and sounded serious, deathly serious, as though they'd do anything to stop Vash. And Vash…Vash would die himself before willingly killing anyone.

He listened to their words stoically, unblinking and unmoving. While on the outside he was emotionless, on the inside his emotions were in frenzy. Pain, anguish, guilt… His words, this unknown man's words, were inescapably true. He was a danger to society, there was no way he could forget about how he had destroyed July and Augusta. Had it really been an accident? Had it really be a mistake? That was where the confusion set in, blending with the pain to form one giant mess known as Vash the Stampede.

Ashe stood, guns pointed at him, he wondered if he really did deserve to be eliminated. It was painless for the most part, quick and easy, a bullet shooting through his heart…Until he remembered the woman in his arms, covering his heart.

She still clung to him, her eyes closed, her breathing heavy. She was in the line of fire. Emotion finally crossed his face: horror.

"Please don't shoot! I didn't meant o destroy everything!" he exclaimed loudly, fearfully, utter terror going through him as in response he heard the sound of at least ten guns being cocked.

She would get shot…He had to do something, even if it meant sacrificing his own safety, his own life. As long as she was safe…

"Please, this woman! She's an innocent!" he tried again. There was a brief moment of silence before the stranger responded.

"True, but by being with you, she's also evil. She's probably your assistant!" Murmurs of agreement rose up and Vash felt his heart begin to pound.

"No, she's not! I…I swear to you she's an innocent!" His mind worked quickly, an idea to save her taking shape. "I kidnapped her!" Meryl, who had been listening to the whole exchange with growing fear, tensed in his arms. What was the spiky haired idiot doing!?

"So I'll make a deal with you" Vash continued, ignoring the alarmed swirling silver eyes that were staring up at him.

"What kind of a deal?" the stranger inquired, "If it does not involve your death, then it is unacceptable!"

"I will die without fighting you of she can go free!" Vash shouted out, resolutely. Meryl froze, her silver eyes wide, her mouth agape. Did he just…Oh god, no…no…NO! He was going to die! Vash, the man she grudgingly had feelings for, was going to die! Please gods don't let them agree…

"Deal." Vash had just signed his death warrant. This could not be happening… He was staring down at her now, those aqua eyes of his unreadable, his face poker straight. She stared back at him, trying to make sense, trying to figure out the elusive reason why. Why was he doing this, why!?

"Why?" she breathed, the sound coming out like a sob. It was a sob. He simply continued to stare at her, and she let loose another sob when his strong arms loosened around her. She held him tighter as he let her go, his arms falling dully off of her. "Please Vash…Why?" she cried, holding him as tightly as she could.

He did not respond, but he finally did look away from her, back towards the sand dunes where the men finally showed themselves. They were all grinning, sick twisted grins, the guns in their hands already aiming at him. He pushed away the pain ruthlessly, instead focusing on how great it felt to have her so close to him this one last time.

"Get going lass!" she heard one of the men call out brutally, and she answered him with tears. He could not die…Not without her…

"Go." That was Vash, his calm and steady voice echoing through her. She felt overwhelmed with grief and pain, that one word amplifying those feelings to an almost unbearable extent.

He wanted her to go!? Actually leave him here to die!? Who exactly did he think she was!? Somehow, through all the fear and pain that was running rampaged through her, a new, well known feeling emerged with a vengeance: anger.

Did he actually expect her to just walk away? Be selfish!? Is that really what he thought of her!? Why did he always have to be the damn hero; it was infuriating!

As the Stryfe anger took effect, her tear filled gaze of pain and grief turned to daggers, the tears that were trekking down her cheeks turning into fire.

"No," she stated that one word with such force that shock briefly passed through Vash's sea foam eyes. What? Hadn't she been crying and shaking a few moments ago? Well, she was still shaking, but not from grief any longer.

Before he could shake her off of him she willingly extracted herself, stepping away from his tensed figure. He blinked at her, vaguely wondering what she was doing. She was going to walk away, just like that, without giving him anything? No words of goodbye, no thank yous, no hugs, no…kisses? He felt depression lock around him, and suddenly more than anything he could not wait to get shot down. It's not like she would care; she did not like him at all, apparently.

She could see the dejection in his eyes as she pulled away, and mirrored it in her heart. More than anything she wanted to be back in his embrace, but first she had to save his life if she ever wanted that to happen again.

Turning her back on him she stepped forward, only not away from him as he expected. No, the angry Meryl moved right in front of Vash, spreading out her tiny arms and bracing her legs apart as she tried to get as big as she could.

Vash gaped at her back, his brain trying to register exactly what she was doing. Or thinking, for that matter. Did she not see the guns!? The men currently threatening them seemed just as shocked, several lowering their weapons to stare at her with wide eyes. And those wide eyes only made her angrier.

"What the hell kind of deal is this?! She shouted out, silver eyes flashing. Vash shrank back behind her, recognizing her killing tone.

"Lass, what are ya doin'?!" the man from earlier exclaimed, still gaping at her. A growl escaped her as she bit back, "Stopping you, obviously!"

The man, regaining his sense, narrowed his eyes at her. "You honestly believe that you can stop us? Why would you even want to anyway?" He asked, keeping his gun raised.

Vash, sensing the woman he loved was in danger, made to move forward to stop her, until a gunshot was fired to the right of him. Vash drew back sharply, realizing that if he moved they'd shoot to stop him. And therefore shoot the angry woman guarding him. He clenched his fists, his grip on his gun tightening. This was not good…If they shot her…

Meryl felt her anger increase a notch at the gunshot, and it was then that all her common sense promptly fled. "Stop shooting goddammit, he only flinched! And you're lucky that's all he did or you'd be dead in an instant!" she shouted, glaring at the men who glared right back at her.

"You better be watching your tongue and tone lass" the man replied, hoisting his gun back up. Meryl did not even flinch as he aimed at her. "Or you might get hurt. We aren't killers of innocents, just killers of monsters."

Oh how her blood boiled at the word monster…Her spine straightened even more, her chin lifting in absolute defiance as she narrowed her blazing cold eyes on him. "How the hell can you even call him that? He's not the one aiming the gun here! And you don't even know him, you asshole!"

The man's fingers clenched on the trigger a little, and Vash felt panic close in on him. What was she thinking, getting involved like this!? She didn't deserve to die this way; an angel like her did not deserve to die at all.

"Girlie, I'm gonna ask you one last time to step down! Why do you defend that monster anyway? He's heartless, a fiend! You must have no common sense…" the man looked at her in disgust, and she mirrored his look, her hand slipping into her cloak to feel for her derringers. But…But they weren't there. She felt a slice of panic go through her; when the hell had she taken them out!?

"He's worthless girl, a murderer, a destroyer. Back away from him now or you'll go down with him."

Her eyes closed for a moment, the harsh words they threw at Vash, misunderstood Vash, eating a hole through her soul so that when her eyes opened again, they were almost completely black with rage. "You…bastards…"

Vash stared at her back in surprise, as taken aback as the men were at her venomous tone. Vash had never heard her sound so….angry before.

"How can you even call him that? Need I remind you that he's not the one currently pointing a gun!" she yelled, and the man in front of her growled in rage, brown eyes flashing.

"Shut it wench! Why do you defend such a beast, such a monster such as the one behind you?! Do you have a death wish or something?" The confusion that everyone but Meryl was feeling was palpable in his voice, and it made her want to grin darkly. Everyone was confused but her, because she…she knew exactly what she wanted.

It was with a calm voice that she loosed that truth, the one she had never thought she'd reveal, to the awaiting ears of the men and Vash.

"I defend him because I love him."

The scene froze, breaths were held. Meryl did not look back at Vash, too afraid to know what his expression would be of.

Vash was stunned to say the least, frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare at the petite woman before him. The woman who…who loved him….Had she really just said that? It was, it seemed, so improbable…

But then, as he continued to stand frozen behind her, the reality began to seep into her, and her anger began to ebb away as her thoughtless words echoed back to her. She had said it, she had really just said it…God she hoped that he had not heard her…But no, she could hear his breath catch behind her, and knew that he had; she knew, even though she desperately wished she didn't, that he had heard her, loud and clear… She just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole at this point…

"You what?!" the man yelled, obviously startled. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of all the wide eyes on her, especially a certain pair of aqua ones boring into her back. Sometimes she really regretted her anger; it always made her so stupid!

"Um…" Oh great, now she had no idea what to say, or do for that matter. She could not will herself to repeat it, and her heart would not let her deny it. Trapped, she stood there awkwardly; why couldn't she just walk away and go hide somewhere for the rest of her life? Someplace he could never find her at…She really, in her desperation, thought of doing just that, bolting off over the dunes, disappearing…

Until she remembered the guns currently aimed at her and…and him. They wanted to kill him, they wanted to shoot him dead so unjustly, they called him a monster…And the reminder brought all of her anger spiraling back.

Forgetting her fear in favor of it, she narrowed her eyes again on the questioning man. How dare he try to shoot Vash, her Vash? How dare he even question her on her feelings!? Fists clenched, she looked him straight in the eye, this villain, portraying all of her determination and love in that single glance.

"You heard me!" she stated matter of factly, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

The man blinked at her, before a slow grin began to spread over his hard, sun tanned face. "You have guts girl, and I admire that." Yet despite his compliment and the smile on his face, he raised his gun back up, aiming right at her. "Too bad I'm actually going to get to see those guts" he sneered, and she scowled, knowing that she would not back down.

Vash had recovered from his stupor when her anger had returned, the feeling of joy coming back with him at the knowledge of her confession. She loved him; Meryl Stryfe loved him. He was overcome with joy, and nothing could ever bring him down…Or so he had thought. That man aiming the gun at her was doing a pretty good job.

His heart clenched at the man's harsh words, and he stopped breathing when he saw his finger go to the trigger. This man was going to shoot her, Meryl, his only love…

"Guess you'll be going to hell before your lover lass" the man cackled, and urged on by his men, pulled the trigger.

Meryl closed her eyes, expecting the pain, seeing nothing but Vash in her head, smiling at her, laughing for her, holding her…He was there with her, the last person she would think of before the bullet killed her.

She expected to feel a sharp, stabbing sensation ripping through her body, a quick, easy death. Instead of feeling the brief pain before nothing at all, she felt two strong bands—arms—wrap around her slim waist, pulling her to the side in a rough way that still managed to hold some gentleness. Gasping, her eyes flew open just as she hit the desert floor, and she saw nothing but sand and a blur of red—Vash.

Vash, not even thinking, had rushed forward at the sound of the gun firing. As it raced towards her in what seemed like slow motion, he had jumped at her, his arms finding her slim waist. In an impossible act, he managed to pull her out of the way to safety as the bullet flew past them, harmlessly hitting a sand dune behind them instead of her fragile frame.

Letting her stunned form go, he drew his silver gun and before any of the men could register what had happened he was firing at them. He felt noting but rage in his system, yet somehow there was enough sanity inside of him that ensured that he did not kill them, his bullets piercing the arms that held their weapons and causing them to drop them and scatter in fear.

Before long they had all fled, except for one—the leader, the man who had tried to kill Meryl. The man was now on his knees, blood, dark and crimson, staining his arm where Vash had shot him. He, unlike the cowards that had followed him, did not attempt to run, didn't make any sounds when he was shot. No, in fact this daring man was not fearfully eyeing Vash, or slinking away from him. He looked him straight in the eye, unblinking, only one emotion—an emotion that made Vash's skin crawl—in his eyes: hate.

This man glared hatefully at him, oblivious, it seemed, to everything; the blood on his arm went ignored, and the fact that he was facing a still angry Humanoid Typhoon, weaponless, did not seem to affect him.

Even though Vash saw the hate in the man's eye, even though he was confused as to why it was there, he could not let the fact that he had tried to kill Meryl go. Instead of admiring this man's courage he only grew angrier at it. He did not lower his weapon, and did not really even think to. It was aimed at the man's head; finger already poised on the trigger, and the idea to pull it was oh so appealing. And why shouldn't he pull the trigger? He had tried to shoot Meryl after all, a defenseless, innocent woman…His hand began to shake, and his eyes began to narrow on the fearless man. Monster…

She had slowly gained composure after the cries of pain from the now gone men met her ears, and was now sitting up, blinking at the startling sight before her. Vash, the man she had publicly admitted to loving, was standing over the form of the man who had shot at her, the leader. The man had hate in his eyes, especially now, as Vash pointed his silver gun at him. Vash, pointing a gun…It made her nearly gasp. Where was the peace loving lunatic she was so used to seeing? Where was the Vash who hated killing, the Vash who cried when someone else died? This Vash, pointing a gun at this innocent…His eyes were dark, sinister, burning in rage. It made her gasp and want to run away from him. This man with those glowing eyes…He was not her Vash! He appeared so evil; his face twisted in fury, ruining his handsome complexion…Where was the goof ball that she loved?

But he was there; the harder she studied him, the more she saw. The Vash she loved was struggling for control, shaking the gun in his hand leveled with the man's head. He did not want to shoot this man, and he was battling his own wrath to stick to his morals, to save himself from the pain that he would cause himself. He was fighting, and he was struggling. His form began to shake in the effort to drop the gun, to let go of that trigger. He needed help, and she was the only one that could give it. Resolved, she stood and took a step towards her love.

Vash was in fact fighting for control. And he was in fact failing. The urge to erase the hate form the man's eyes, to remove that harsh glimmer of life was terrifyingly tempting. The desire to gaze down at his lifeless form, watch the red blood pool out of him was disgustingly enticing. And Vash really, really hated himself at that moment.

Yet he could not stop, his hand tightening on his gun, his finger flexing on the trigger. Meryl…He had tried to kill her, the innocent woman that he loved! This man deserved to die…right? His heart screamed at him to lower the gun, to drop it completely, while his mind screamed at him to pull that trigger, to kill and end a life. He was caught between his own hate and his own words; he could not kill…He was caught between his demons, and as he tried to fend them off, praying for help to stop him before he sunk, like an angel she appeared.

Meryl stepped next to him, her hand tentatively coming up to grasp the arm that held the gun. Gently she pushed down on it in encouragement, asking—begging—for him to drop the weapon. She felt his arm tremble, the gun shaking in his unsteady hands.

"Vash…" she quietly murmured his name, praying that it would snap him out of his internal battle. She felt him twitch, heard him inhale sharply. Bravely she continued, speaking in the softest of tones.

"Vash, please lower the gun." She caressed his strong arm, hoping to relax him with the simple gesture. The wounds that were inflicted in this arm…

He heard her voice and felt her soft hand upon his arm, but could not will himself to do what she asked of him. Not yet at least. Her gentle voice echoed through his troubled being, filling up the dark spots that held all that pain and anger. Her soft caress eased his muscles, allowing him to at least be able to breathe again. Yet he still could not lower the arm pointing the gun.

She noticed this and thought hard, wondering what else she could possibly do. She needed to say something that would really get through to him, something that would evaporate all that darkness swirling through him. She had to remind him of what he was doing…But what? What could she say to move him in such a way that he dropped the gun?

She swallowed hard, her hand stilling on his arm. She knew what to say, but the only problem was that she did not want to say it, admit it, again. But….As she gazed into his pain filled face, watched as he shut his eyes tight and his face crumpled in an effort to gain control, she suddenly knew that no matter what she just had to say it. If it meant saving him, than she'd willingly do it.

Taking a breath, her hand tightened firmly on his arm, and she stared hard up at his conflicted face.

"Vash…I love you."

He stopped shaking, his body going completely rigid beneath her touch. Not once did she blink as she continued to stare at him, intently watching his face change and morph as new emotions went through him.

Her words, her completely honest confession and the way she had aid it so sincerely…They hit him hard in the heart. They scattered the horrifying thoughts his mind had produced, banishing them along with the images of blood and the dead man. Her words were the antidote to the poison of his mind, curing him so that he could finally move that arm, lowering the gun to the ground without regrets.

Shuddering violently, he drew in a deep breath, eyes slowly slipping open to instantly connect with her dark silver ones, glittering up at him like diamonds. Without thinking, without a thought in his head but her, he grabbed her small form and pulled her to him in a fierce embrace.

Gasping at the unexpected action, she decided to ignore the pain in her ribs caused by the tightness of his arms and just marveled at how good it felt to be so close to him. It felt so wonderful that she felt as though she were in heaven…

At least she was until she felt him shudder, felt his hot tears wet the back of her neck. The man that had threatened them was forgotten, left to observe the scene with unbelieving eyes as Meryl focused on nothing but comforting Vash. Whispering what she cared not to refer to as sweet nothings in his ear, she stroked his back soothingly, wanting more than to take his pain away, stop his tears…

Eventually he did stop both shaking and sobbing, going still in her arms as he inhaled hr sweet scent gently. She had saved him, comforted him…and she loved him. She loved Vash the Stampede, the notorious outlaw, the…the killer. His heart wrenched in his chest as his attention was brought back to the man silently observing them, the man that only moments ago he had wanted to kill…

The man looked up and meet his eyes, and in them Vash no longer saw any of the hard hate from before but an odd glimmer of understanding that made him feel even more like the monster he was known to be.

He pulled away from Meryl as the man heaved himself to his feet, clutching his hurt arm with a bloodied hand as he smiled slowly at Vash.

The two lovers turned to him questioningly as he sighed gently, his dark eyes still trained on Vash.

"Vash the Stampede…Brought down by love!" He laughed lightly, shaking his head in disbelief. "But you know, that's a good thing. It proves that you're human Vash, it proves that you're not as evil as you're claimed to be…As I've thought you to be…"

Meryl was now openly gaping at the man, startled. So…Did this meant hat he did not wish to kill Vash anymore? She glanced over at Vash, wanting to see his reaction to this unexpected act of kindness. He just stared at the man blankly, as if he had not heard the man's words of kindness, as though he did not care. She frowned, not liking how withdrawn he seemed. He was only like this when he was hurting…

Little did she know just how much he was hurting. The pain that ripped through his heart was almost unnatural in its intensity, a gunshot that was slowly draining him of everything, leaving him cold and pale and dying. Oh how his heart bled…And there was nothing that could patch it up. How could he have thought of ending another human's life? How could he have thought of it, craved for it? He was just as bad as his twin, wasn't he? Oh god, he had aimed at Meryl, and yet…he was still an innocent…Right? Oh god, he could not handle this doubt! But Meryl was safe, and the man was alive, and he…he was a monster…

Meryl was staring at him with a lovely concern that only made his heart ache even more. This woman…Did she not realize that she was in love with him, a monster? What was wrong with her! Her eyes were so light as they stared up at him—too light—and he resented them. Why couldn't this man leave? Why couldn't…she leave?

She tried in vain to read his closed expression, tried in desperation to meet his evading aqua eyes. By no, he showed her nothing, nothing at all and her concern only grew. Breaking her gaze away from her broken love for a moment, she turned to see that the man had a look of concern on his face too. Realizing that it would be best of she just got rid of him, she offered him the biggest smile she could give under these circumstances. "It's ok, we both forgive you…" The man blinked at her, shifting his eyes to Vash in a silent question, and her smile fell a little. "Don't worry, he forgives you too. And…I think he's sorry."

"For what?" the man asked, " He has nothing to be sorry for!"

She sighed a little, her eyes trailing back over to Vash's still form.

"For…For losing control" she quietly answered, looking back at him with a soft smile, in which he returned.

Stepping forward until he was in front of Vash, the man waited until the outlaw looked down at him before extending his hand for him. Vsh could not contain the shock that overtook his face, blanching a little as the man reached down and grabbed his hand to shake it. With his hand still in Vash's the man leaned forward, still smiling softly, to whisper Vash's freedom. "You're forgiven."

And then, before Vash could react the man turned and, not looking back once, walked off, and by the time Vash got over his shock he was already gone, leaving him alone with Meryl. Vash continued to stare off into the distance where the mysterious man had disappeared, and could not help but think that the man reminded him vaguely of the lost preacher, Wolfwood. It made him smile sadly as, under the knowledge that he had been forgiven, his body began to relax.

Meryl watched him with soft eyes, never having been happier at seeing the small smile that crossed his lips, even if that smile did not quite enter his stunning eyes. As she stared at him, he seemed to glimmer under the twin suns rays, his blonde hair shimmering, his red coat flying around him in some invisible breeze in a way that made her think of old heroes of lore. He had never looked so handsome…The only thing that was off was his eyes. They still held sadness, that deep set sadness that always seemed to be there, darkening those gorgeous eyes, tainting them. More than anything she wanted to get rid of it and as her eyes strayed to his lips, she suddenly knew how.

Moving forward until she stood directly in front of him, a small sly grin appearing on her pretty features when he did not acknowledge her. Oh, he was in for a surprise…

Vash was still allowing himself the opportunity to calm down and regain his normal light hearted composure when it happened. One minute, he was standing almost by himself, and the next a pair of lips, warm and soft, were on his.

Gasping, he nearly fainted when he glanced down to see none other than his insurance girl's beautiful face. Her eyes were closed in bliss, her hands on his shoulders as she stood on the tips of her toes to reach him. And her lips…They were on his, covering him, stealing his breath. She was kissing him…!

Poor Vash, in his shock, forgot to respond to her gentle kiss, and as she realized this she practically jumped away from him. Instantly he missed her sweet lips as he stared at her with wide, unbelieving eyes. Had she really just…Did that just happened…?! It seemed so surreal…Yet it obvkiously had. His lips still tingled warmly and her silver eye were downcast, a light blush dusting over her cheeks. It was then that he remembered his mistake.

"Meryl-" he started, only to be cut off by the hurt and flustered woman.

"No Vash, it's ok, don't apologize! I should have known you wouldn't like it! It was just that well…" she was rambling, her moonlight colored eyes flickering around as she looked at everything but him. Oh god, what had she done!? She should have known that he didn't return her affections! She was just his insurance girl, a friend, someone who helped him on occasions…That kiss had meant the world to her, but to him…

To her utter horror and dismay, her eyes began to fill with water, the droplets gathering rather rapidly in her eyes. No, she couldn't cry, she wouldn't cry! But…it was so hard not to. She just loved him so much, and that kiss…

And all he did was stare, was gape at her. So stupid…The first tears began to fall, unable to be held back any longer, grown too powerful for her. A sob threatened to wrack her body as she tore herself apart, broke her once so strong heart.

He stared at her in shock as the first tear rolled down her smooth cheek, catching the sunlight and glittering at him, seeming to mock him for his mistake. His heart shuddered as he realized that he was the cause for her tears, that he had caused brave Meryl Stryfe to cry, all with his own stupidity. He could not stop the onslaught of pain that overtook him then, all it aimed at no one but himself.

Through hazy tear misted eyes she watched him, not really seeing him yet still noticing him. He stood still, and she was too afraid to look in his eyes, see his expression clearly. Those lovely aqua eyes would be the end of her, break her until she was beyond fixing. But…Wasn't she beyond fixing already? She was in love with him, this pea brained, donut loving, peace following humanoid typhoon. She loved him so much that it hurt, the monster that was her love digging into her heart until she could no longer breathe, could no longer feel beyond the pain.

"Meryl…" Unexpected to the both of them, her name slipped from him, shocking them from their tormenting thoughts. The name—her name—echoed around everything within him, all his battered feelings, his own broken heart. And she heard it; she felt it…

"Vash…" His name fell from her as hers had from him. It echoed what she felt, what she thought, and he understood. Their names stayed suspended hovering between them, blending and mixing, as they finally understood.

He felt himself step forward so that he stood before her, towering over her small frame. All he saw were her eyes, those great grey eyes that held those reflecting tears, tears that glistened up at him in the fading sunlight. They reflected him as he finally followed his heart, his wounded, battle scarred heart that was said to be that of a monster, and claimed her sweet lips, the lips of this beauty to his beast.

This time they both answered the call of passion, the leap of love. Wrapped in each others arms they understood all, and nothing was needed to be said. Secrets were unveiled, memories were resurfaced all in the dazzling sunlight that illuminated their entwined figures.

And the beast that Vash was claimed to be, the monster that he was thought to be, vanished under the lips and love of the beauty, until he was nothing more than a handsome prince.

Well, there's my old story. Sorry if it was badly written, I was not that good of a writer back then. At least, I thought I wasn't. Oh yeah, and I rewrote the ending a little cuz I liked the whole beauty and the beast theme much better than what it was, which was a crappy sunset. I mean, that's cliché…Even though this whole story is cliché, hahaha. But please review!