Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Only in Dreams ❯ Chapter 1 ( One-Shot )

OiD

Disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their respective owners.

Author's Note: This story was written in response to my friend animefreak5483's challenge that I write a "fluffy" story recently. Well, tell me how I did. The time placement in this story sets it somewhere near the end of the story, around Episode 25 and later.

Only in Dreams

He was hurt, as usual. Another successful gamble for innocent lives, and another scar for his side. 'Some people get trophies. Not me, nuh-uh.' He snorted to himself, and winced as the scab over the wound scraped against the bandage below the last rib on his left side. The pain was nothing new; running from bounty hunters and protecting the innocent always donated a few more scars to his ever-growing possession. Unfortunately, being used to pain wasn't helping him fall asleep any quicker tonight.

Vash sighed, and gently eased from his back onto his right side. This bed was so damn uncomfortable. 'I might as well sleep on the floor.' The blank wall stared back, completely unsympathetic. "Not that I was complaining." He mumbled aloud, and sighed. The bandage over his injured side itched desperately, and the wound pulsed in time to his heartbeat. Silence reigned over the small house except for the occasional sleepy murmur from the girls' room.

Sleep still eluded him. He threw an arm over his eyes, and tried to envision doughnuts. The effort failed because the image of the lovely confections made his mouth begin to water, and he had to resist the urge to drool. Next, Vash tried to pick out subliminal messages in the pattern of the faded wallpaper, but his eyes kept blurring from tiredness.

"The rest of me wants to sleep, so why don't you stupid brain?"

In response, his brain conjured up an image of Wolfwood, larger than life as he blazed away at an invisible enemy with the Cross Punisher; sun glinting off his dark glasses. The image blurred, and then faded from his mind's eye.

"Gloria." Vash whispered into the stillness, and then shifted onto his back once more. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he swiped at them with the back of his good arm. 'Think some happy thoughts, Tongari.' Wolfwood's deep voice rumbled in the back of his mind.

The floorboards chose that moment to squeak outside his room, and Vash sat up quickly, all thoughts of lost comrades bleeding away from his mind. His wounded side flared in protest and he grimaced, but remained quiet. Was someone standing out there? No danger sense flared in his awareness, but curiosity settled in. Ignoring the pain, he crept stealthily out of bed to the door, and without pausing, threw it wide open.

Nothing. No surprised insurance girls stared up at him, and he closed it, disappointed. "Damn, I wish someone was awake." He muttered, and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the warm wood. Maybe that was it. Gunsmoke was a warm planet, and he was used to it, but tonight it was too hot to sleep.

The appeal of a cold glass of water drew him to the tiny kitchen. He chugged the first glass, and slowly savored the second with a contented sigh of appreciation. He dutifully washed it and set the cup in the drain without a thought, and started to go back to his room.

A thought stopped him halfway down the hall and he turned, surprised to find himself in front of the door to the girls' room. 'I shouldn't be here.' His bare feet shuffled up to the door, and Vash watched in horror as his hand, acting of its own accord reached out and turned the knob. "Sacré bleu!" He swore quietly at his hand, as if it were a separate entity. "What are you doing?" The door swung open silently on its hinges, and a gush of hot air hit him on the face.

'Man, and I thought it was hot in my room.' He thought, and surveyed the room; thankful the moonlight was strong enough for him to see clearly. At his left, Milly's large form lay sprawled on top of the covers, her long hair spread over the pillowcase and normally expressive face hidden by shadows. Deep, even breaths issued from her side, and he released the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

The bed at the right was compiled of several bumps, simultaneously hiding and smothering its occupant under a mountain of hot, stuffy blankets. 'How can anyone sleep like that?' Vash wondered, and took a step into the room. 'Wait a minute here,' the rational part of his brain said. 'Just what do you think you're doing?' He paused. The figure under the mound of blankets shifted slightly, causing him to edge backwards towards the relative safety of the doorframe.

Any second now, she would pop up; gray eyes blazing, and tell him to get out in no uncertain terms. 'What are you doing?' His brain echoed. "I'm not doing anything." Vash argued. "It was the hand, I swear." There was no reply from the logical part of his brain, and he grinned to himself. Well, since he was here, it wouldn't hurt to check and make sure that they were both sleeping…would it?

'Would it?' The snide voice in his head said mockingly. The grin slid off his face. 'What do you think you're going to do?' One foot moved in agonizing slowness towards the bed at the right, closely followed by its mate. Of course, as soon as he put his right foot down, a splinter embedded itself in his big toe.

He covered the yelp that threatened to escape, glancing quickly at both beds for any sign from either occupant. The small figure on the right shifted slightly, mumbling something about having to type a report, but the large insurance girl on the left never moved.

'Always working, isn't she?' Vash thought to himself. 'Even in her dreams, she can't relax.' He limped across the floor, praying to whichever god that watched over this dust ball of a planet that he wouldn't step on any squeaky planks.

He made it made it to her bedside without any noise, and looked down at her sleeping face, bathed in moonlight. A frown creased her brows, and he remembered belatedly just how bad this would look if she woke up to find him standing over her like some kind of demented freak. That would be hard to explain.

The splinter in his foot caused him to slightly shift his position, and the floor betrayed him be squeaking lightly. 'Blasted floor.' He thought, and frowned down at it in disapproval. Movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention back to the dark-haired woman. The crease between her brows was still in place, this time accompanied by her definitive frown.

"Stop it Vash." She murmured. "I have to finish this report. Go eat a doughnut, or something." The slightly slurred words were the only indication that she was still asleep, and that he didn't yet need to run for his life. "Leave me alone. I have to type this before the deadline. Stop being annoying, Vash." She was dreaming about him? It was sort of an honor. The small woman's expression and tone made him believe it wasn't the kind of dream that made you feel all warm and fuzzy in the morning; that just wasn't her. He doubted the insurance girl was the type who ever had that happy kind of dream.

Vash stood there for a minute, trying to decide if he should stay and listen more, or return to the relative safety of his own room. She shifted during his internal debate, a lock of black hair falling across her pale face. After a moment's consideration, he bent down to her level and smoothed away the errant strands.

His fingertips brushed across her cheek. The touch was like a jolt of electricity, and his heart began to thump so loud in his chest that he was sure the noise would wake both of them. Regardless, he leaned in to trace her left profile, callused fingers feather-light. He drew back at last when the sleeping figure leaned into his touch.

'What are you doing, Needle Noggin?' Wolfwood's voice in his head again indicated that sanity had left the building. 'Just what am I doing?' He asked himself. The woman sighed slightly, and nuzzled her face into the pillow.

Tentatively, he reached out again, trailing his fingers through her soft raven hair down to cup her cheek in his palm. "Anyone who gets close to me ends up dying." The words rose to his lips, unbidden, and seemed to echo around the room.

The small woman's hand snaked up and grabbed his fingers in a tight grip.

"Come here. Come here and sit down. Don't you dare think of moving!"

He tried to pull away, but her grip was solid. 'She sure is a lot stronger than she looks.' It would have been a comical situation if he weren't afraid that he would some serious explaining to do if she woke up. He tugged again, but to no avail. 'Geez, how did I get myself into this?" The pale hand tugged his in tight to her side, and she whimpered lightly.

Maybe if he started gnawing now, he would be free from any embarrassment in the morning. It wasn't like he was hitting on her; he had made it a point to never hit on her, regardless-

"Oh, Vash."

The words escaped in a sigh, effectively derailing his train of thought. His name on her lips didn't sound like the usual curse for once, and he stopped struggling. What could she be dreaming about? And why was he a part of it? It seemed like she would rather be as far away from him as possible, so why was he in her dreams now? As Rem had been fond of saying, most people were good at hiding what they felt inside.

An answering sigh echoed in his heart, and Vash felt tears well once again in his eyes. Was it possible that she liked him? 'Nononono…I don't need this. I mean, I REALLY don't need this right now.' He thought as he looked down at her face. 'I have to save Knives.' Her face relaxed, stress lines smoothing out on her forehead. 'There's nothing I could offer her that she doesn't already have.'

He sunk to his knees from the awkward crouching position that made his injured side ache, and stared long and hard at the dark lashes against the pale face. There was no doubt about it; she was beautiful in her own way. Once upon a time he might have had an interest in Milly, but she was and always would be Wolfwood's girl, and he had no intention of ever trying to change that fact.

"I'd really like my hand back, Insurance Girl." He whispered.

Her grip on his hand weakened, and he was able to pull his numb hand back, and he rubbed the tingling digits gratefully. Maybe subliminal messages really did work. The blonde man was tempted to pursue that thought, but a burst of sleepiness changed his mind.

The hand that had so recently held his rested, palm up on the edge of the bed. Once the feeling came back into it, he took hers, confident that this late-night meeting would never be known by another living soul. With perfect gallantry, he raised her hand to his lips. "Goodnight, Meryl." He murmured, and kissed her knuckles softly.

There was no response from the sleeper, so he rose and made his way back to the door, careful to avoid the squeaky spot. "…Love you, Vash." He half-turned, aqua eyes wide in surprise. Had she just said-?

Her small form curled tightly into a ball, the covers slipping down enough to reveal a gentle smile; the kind worn by a person caught up in an idyllic dream that ends only with the dawning of the morning sun. Vash stumbled a bit as he crossed the last few feet to the door, bending to pick the splinter out of his toe.

He hummed an old familiar song lightly for the short walk back to his room, smiling to himself. The man known as the dangerous Humanoid Typhoon slipped into his own bed and closed his eyes. Sleepiness dulled the ache in his side, making it a little more bearable. Unconsciousness finally claimed him, creeping over his long lean body and stealing away the worry lines from troubles past and present. The smile remained on his face even in sleep.

In the other small bedroom, a dark-haired sprite of a woman opened her eyes, wondering for a moment why she was awake. The moonlight guided her to a golden strand of hair on the pillow. Her left hand closed around it, drawing the strand near to her heart as she drifted back into slumber.

Outside, a cricket chirped, and all was still once more.