Disclaimer in previous chapters. Please see Author's Notes at the end.

-x-

Three Weeks Later

The sand steamer was just a mournful cry in the distance, kicking up a bright pink cloud of dust, and Meryl Stryfe paused, letting her bag stand unattended on the street for a moment to shift the bangs out of her eyes.

It seemed a lifetime ago she'd left Collins. It didn't even smell the same.

They said the funny, heavy, heady smell was humidity. If the wind was coming from the west, she would even be tempted to believe it.

But it wasn't. If she closed her eyes, it ever so slightly reminded her of a starry night in the bed of a truck, and red wildflowers.

Everywhere there were signs of change. The primary water vein that ran along the crescent of settlements on Gunsmoke had increased pressure, blowing wells left and right. Collins had never been a dull town, but now that the heat of the day had passed, there was a festive mood, and she grabbed the handle of her suitcase very firmly before steeling herself, head down, and plowing into the sea of humans.

She didn't look up at the bulb, softly glowing against the dusky sky.

She didn't need to. Her whirlwind journey had taken her from April to Mei by way of sandsteamer, then by thomas on the back roads to reach the Thompson compound. She could only bear to stay there one night, on the road the next morning with laden saddlebags. After that, it had been on to New Oregon, where she'd met up with Elizabeth, Aaron, and Doc. They had gone by truck to the ship; Doc was in far too delicate condition to travel by thomas, but it looked like he'd live.

She was fairly sure he was aware the day they left, she could have sworn she saw his eyes slit open, but Jessica had promised she would send word as soon as he was well again, and insisted that they visit.

They hadn't told the people on the ship. They were still too new to Gunsmoke, too new to the concept that they were going to have to face the same horrors as everyone else. There was no point in telling them about Knives.

She hadn't even put it in the reports.

Which had made her week long debriefing at Bernardelli that much more difficult. Explaining Millie's death, over and over again, a freak stroke, an unexpected tragedy. The fight with the gang of bandits on a dilapidated SEEDs ship, and Vash the Stampede at the heart of it.

Even the Chief had raised an eyebrow at that. "I thought you were his champion, Meryl."

She had fidgeted in the chair, toying with the hem of her own, familiar coat, wondering why it felt so strange. "So did I, sir."

It was important to keep the illusion of Vash the Stampede alive, because without him, there was absolutely nothing she could do about the fact that the bulb in Collins was still glowing.

And because of him, she had been sent back – as she knew she would be, it wasn't like they had a choice with the other insurance deals they'd brokered – alone, this time, to Collins, to continue working on the Plant replacement project.

The Plant replacement project that was falling apart around their ears.

A few teens galloped by, nearly upsetting her suitcase, and Meryl squawked and held onto her luggage for dear life. Carter had said they'd be holed up in the Blue Sky hotel, which was relatively swanky, and just the kind of place an esteemed engineer like Miss Elizabeth Boulaise would be found. It was rather centrally located, meaning it was going to take a while to walk there, and for the millionth time, Meryl Stryfe wondered why Bernardelli Insurance could never find it in their hearts – or their pocketbooks – to send their agents in any class other than coach.

At least there hadn't been any bandits, this time. Millie would've-

Meryl pressed her lips together and kept walking.

Spirits were still high even away from the sand steamer port. Live musicians were belting out jazz into the cooling night air, couples were dancing and laughing, and loud whoops and screams told of more raucous entertainment a few scant blocks away. Still, the lobby of the Blue Sky was like an oasis. It truly was blue, a lovely deep shade, not turquoise like the oceans of Earth were said to be but a real blue, like the cenotes in Little Arcadia.

Still empty, but blue just the same.

It was a very large room, with round divans and cushions scattered in intimate groupings, encouraging the hotel guests to enjoy the hotel's full service bar, and Meryl passed them with only one or two thoughts of just collapsing then and there and sleeping the night away. There was only more work waiting for her upstairs, she could be sure of that.

After all, what was Elizabeth going to do with Collins' Plant? Even though the sabotage efforts effectively ended with the death of the crew of the New Kennedy, it wasn't as if she could just put the Plant in a trunk and call it a day.

But that was just one more entry on her checklist, counting down the days until we interrupt this radio show to bring you urgent news; the city of December appears to have been completely destroyed, I repeat ad nauseum, then speculate it was the work of the Humanoid Typhoon, Vash the Stampede, who is also stealing Plants and causing the suns to go out.

Or something.

The clerk at the desk was a young man, with sharp cheekbones and permanently startled brown eyes. "Good evening, miss."

Meryl was surprised she still looked good enough to qualify for 'miss.' "The same to you. I'm here to see a guest, Elizabeth Boulaise and party?"

"Ah, yes." He made a show of consulting his ledger, but his tone made it clear he knew exactly which party. It was rather difficult for Elizabeth to stay anywhere near men with pulses without their knowing every detail about where she was staying, who she was speaking with, what she was or was not wearing-

"That party has rented out several rooms, 3012 through 3016. The elevator will take you there, just at the end the of hall and to the right of the pool."

She nodded her thanks, angling the luggage to roll once again on its tired wheels, and continued until she heard the pleasant trickle of water. The pool was really quite large for an indoor fountain, she would have loved to plant herself face first in it, but instead she watched the water ripple across the bathtub sized reflecting pool before almost regretfully hitting the call button.

Time to find out what other nasty surprises lay in store.

The cab of the elevator clanged and clattered into view, manned by a bellhop, and it was surprisingly difficult not to think of the elevator in the valley as it ratcheted its way up two stories. That was probably shorter than the distance they'd gone, even though it seemed to take the same amount of time. Nowhere near as smooth as the lifts on the New Kennedy.

Once on the correct floor, the bellhop indicated the correct direction, and Meryl came to a stop before room 3012. She didn't knock; she didn't need to. Before she'd even found the energy, it opened, and he unblinking looked her up and down.

She managed eye contact. "I look that bad?"

He grunted, then pulled open the door. "Worse, actually. We expected you yesterday."

"Thanks." Aaron Carter, lord of tact.

"Don't mention it," he quipped, and she found a sudden little smile on her lips.

"Where's your partner in crime?" It had only been a little over a month since she'd last met Tallow, Milton, and she hoped he'd be a little more helpful this time around.

Carter closed the door behind her, and Meryl realized that it wasn't just a room – it was a suite. A double set of doors were opened through the wall that should have contained the adjoining room. To her immediate left was an ornate, deep burgundy door that led into what appeared to be a sumptuously appointed bathroom.

Something else Bernardelli didn't usually spring for.

"I am going to apply to the EF," she announced, to no one in particular, and her luggage disappeared from her hand.

"I wouldn't. Crappy insurance. The guys are downstairs, you should have seen them in the lobby. If not, they're doing rounds." Aaron carried her bag like it weighed no more than an infant. "Bedrooms are two rooms over. Dinner was a few hours ago, but I'll have them send something up."

Meryl shook her head, with something like overwhelming gratitude bubbling up in her throat. "Thanks, but I'm good."

He didn't contradict her, leading her into the next room, but she had the distinct impression that he was going to ignore her.

"I don't look that bad," she protested. "Coach is very small and there's not enough space to hang things, so my uniform's a little wrinkled-"

"Meryl, men will find your flaws without your help." The arch voice came from a large desk, which was drowning in schematics. The engineer had slipped into a little green number, bent at the waist and poring over what looked like a series of pipes on a scaffold. "Accept the favor gracefully."

Meryl bristled, but bit back her retort at a quiet glance from Carter. Normalcy. The woman was looking for normalcy.

The problem was, they didn't have it. They'd never been best friends. There was no comfortable routine like there had been with Va-

And trust, badly frayed, was going to have to be mended.

"You're probably right." She wondered if it sounded as ridiculous to the engineer as it did to her.

Elizabeth froze, stooped over, and then her back shook as she laughed. "I guess I don't look much better," she admitted, and then turned on her hip, slouching against the desk. Meryl was shocked at just how terrible she did look. Her face was so thin it was almost gaunt, her jawbones were sharp enough to slice bread. Beneath the makeup was that same ashy complexion she'd worn in the cavern beneath Eden.

"You're not eating enough," Meryl said firmly. "We had this discussion-"

"Yes, mother, I'm aware," Elizabeth interrupted, but it was without heat. "Nothing tastes good anymore."

Meryl hesitated. That was certainly true.

"I take it you've heard nothing since last we spoke?"

The engineer cast a look towards the window, when a particularly shrill young person managed to make themselves heard. "Inepral City received a shipment yesterday."

It took her a second to realize what Elizabeth was saying. A shipment. She wasn't talking about a shipment from the EF.

"What kind of shipment?"

"The usual." The engineer's long fingers found an invoice and tugged it free of the pile. "Everything we need to complete the extraction. Panels, cables, the support structure, the transformer farm. It arrived on the steamer we expected you to take."

Meryl ignored the reminder of her delay. "So Knives wasn't manufacturing the equipment."

Elizabeth snorted. "That was a given. We knew he'd outsource this work, it's not fine enough to have been manufactured by Plants. The solar panels contain components he'd have had to synthesize, but with shipping and secrecy as important as it was, he likely shipped them materials in bulk."

Carter strode back into the room, sans luggage. "I'm going to take a look outside," he said without preamble, staring at the window beside them, and the women paused to listen.

The festive air was getting a little too rambunctious.

Meryl raised her eyebrows, but he didn't seem especially keyed up, he simply nodded to her and headed back to the first room. They heard the door close firmly behind him, and Meryl couldn't help but cock her ear to the screams in the street.

Whatever was going on, it was starting to get serious.

"Is this hotel safe?"

The engineer nodded, staring thoughtfully at the window. "Yes, they have a private security force as well as my men. The water veins have been flowing past capacity, so the entities that used to profit from skimming off the top have seen their profits dry up, so to speak. Collins is a little rough. It's not the first evening things have gotten out of hand."

She took a cleansing breath, then bit her lip, focusing on the schematics all around her. "The gas lines have been repaired, and all the core systems checked and rechecked. There's no further damage. We have what we need to actually complete the uninstallation here, and in Inepral City as well."

Business as usual.

Meryl hesitated. "Elizabeth, we agreed to keep things under wraps as long as possible, but where do you think we can hide a Plant? Are you seriously suggesting we drop her off on Eden's border? Hello, Knives, long time no see. How are things? We just thought we'd stop by for a quick chat and to drop off one of your sisters. Toodles?"

"I'm not taking it off the table." The engineer slipped off the edge of the desk, absently pacing. "Meryl, if Knives hasn't contacted us, and he hasn't contacted whoever he outsourced his manufacturing to, until they run out of raw materials, they'll probably do exactly what we're doing."

Pretend everything was fine.

"If we complete this conversion, and move on to Inepral City, we can delay the others without arousing suspicion by saying there was an unexpected shortage of materials. We can intercept the shipments of solar equipment and just store them. Then we can let the project stall, Bernardelli isn't out any additional policies, and the EF won't push. We'll have completed ten conversions and that's an excellent pilot number. They'll be more interested in training crews on the solar plants we already have."

Meryl chewed on that for a moment. Without Vash to threaten the next mayor, the cities would be happy to keep quiet and continue using their current Plants.

"No word at all, from Knives?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I checked all the newspapers and listened to every radio show I could catch. No mass murders, no sudden disappearances, no bloody names written in town squares." Nothing at all. No retaliation, either from Knives or whomever might have survived the New Kennedy. "I guess we do need to revise our contingency plan," Meryl finally conceded. "Frankly, I didn't think we'd get this far."

The engineer rubbed her wrist. "Neither did I."

There was a brief silence, punctuated by a scream that clearly indicated terror.

They exchanged a look, and then as one they headed for separate windows. The windows were closed against the music on the street and the heat of the day, and Meryl fumbled with the locks before she could throw them open. They sealed well; the street was in pandemonium, and the sound hit her in the face like a wet towel. It was almost a riot as people streamed in every direction –

Except towards the hotel.

Meryl glanced down, straight down, and a flash of deep red flitted just out of sight beneath the Blue Sky's welcoming canopy.

She turned to her right, not surprised to see Elizabeth also hanging out of her window, and they both stared at each other. Meryl leaned back into the room, reaching to pull the windows closed and stunned to see that her hands were perfectly steady.

Lots of people wore red. It was probably a local crime boss, looking for a nice bar or a quiet room for some relaxing murdering. Or someone actively attempting to impersonate the Stampede, seeing as he always showed up on the eve of Plant decommissioning, and this one had been especially long in coming.

Yes, that was it, she thought to herself absently as she flipped her traveling cloak over her shoulder, just to visually reassure herself that she still had all her derringers.

The engineer had also yanked her window closed, but she was much less calm; it took her several tries to get the latches to catch, and she pulled the curtains closed as well, almost clinging to them. Her fingers were white.

"He wouldn't," she breathed. "He wouldn't, he would think it too demeaning-"

Her pre-decommissioning crew in Inepral City had received a shipment. And they had everything they needed to complete the Collins extraction tonight.

Vash would have shown up tonight, to meet with the city's leadership, and take the Plant.

"It's not," Meryl said firmly, ignoring the sound of sprinting footsteps thundering down their hallway. "It's unrelated. You'll see."

They listened to the long distance runner pound to the very end of the hallway, and they heard the stairway door slam open. There was a long silence, and then the muffled click of the door quietly closing.

Then nothing.

"There's no point in running," Elizabeth assured the room. "If he's found us here, he'd find us anywhere."

The two women contemplated that for another few seconds, then broke for the far room.

It was indeed the bedroom, with two very large double beds, and Meryl didn't even consider grabbing her luggage. Too heavy, too unwieldy. She had her wallet in her cloak, and she'd just gotten a paycheck. Elizabeth would have access to EF cars, so it was more than enough.

The engineer didn't even glance at her own belongings, and her long legs got her to the door first. She pressed her ear to it, listening intently, then she gave a nod and tore it open. The door put them out halfway down the hall, and they sprinted for the stairwell doorway.

Elizabeth pulled it open, and Meryl realized they had just made a mistake.

The stairwell was not empty.

Apparently other guests were as concerned with getting up the stairs as they were with getting down. The third floor stairwell door had been locked from the inside, so that guests already on the third floor could use it to go down – but they had to go back up via the lobby.

It was a safety precaution, to prevent unauthorized access to guest rooms.

And as soon as they opened the floodgates, they were overwhelmed.

Meryl was tackled backwards as a barrel-chested bearded man saw the open door and leapt at it. He plowed directly into her, bodily carrying her back into the hallway.

"Get outta the way, ya dumb broad! Don't you know what's down there!?"

"Get off me!" Meryl shoved herself away from him, stumbling hard into the wall and bouncing back off into the stream of panicked people. She cried out as one of her earrings caught in the veil of someone's hat and was yanked out, and a rough hand settled on her right arm.

Meryl tugged at her arm, but the twenty-something blond didn't let go, barely even glancing at her. He wrenched her back towards him, clearing and then rushing into the empty space that was created as bodies scattered into the hall, and behind her, she heard Elizabeth shouting.

"Gimme your key," the blond hissed into her ear, swinging them against the wall, and Meryl grabbed a derringer left-handed and jabbed him in the eye with the muzzle.

If a gun went off in this hallway, there was no telling how bad it would get.

The man howled and released her, and Meryl hastily gave ground, scanning the passage. A lanky young man with tousled brown hair scurried past not three yarz away, dragging Elizabeth by the elbow. The engineer was no slouch when it came to hand to hand, but quarters were close. Before Meryl could find a path across the streaming people, Elizabeth found a little room to maneuver and struck out, but her attacker melted into the doorframe, and Meryl realized with a start that he had opened one of the room doors.

The one they'd just left.

He'd picked Elizabeth's pocket.

The engineer got her foot through the door, preventing him from locking them out, and she reached out one of her long arms.

She didn't have to offer twice.

Meryl leapt for her, catching her left wrist and wincing on behalf of the engineer, who also didn't seem to realize which hand she had offered. They weren't the only two people to see that a room door had been opened, and then Meryl was surrounded by cries and elbows, one of them glancing off her temple-

The engineer gave a hard yank, and Meryl found herself sprawling onto thick carpeting. The door slammed, it sounded like it was right above her, cutting the hallway din to an unpleasant murmur. Meryl gingerly touched her skull, drawing back her fingers.

Blood. Not a lot. Just a small cut.

She gathered her knees under her, hastily scanning the room, and found Elizabeth standing just over her, arms crossed as a way of cradling her left wrist. She was slightly out of breath, glaring at the intruder plastered to the door, who looked slightly wild-eyed himself.

"Are you all right? Both of you?"

In fact, there by his left eye was a mole.

Meryl tried to blink the slight fuzziness away, still gripping her derringer. His hair was a dull brown, long and drooping in his too-dark eyes. His left jacket sleeve – it was tan, it was a normal thomas-hide traveling coat – wasn't empty.

But his tone . . .

"Vash?" It was Elizabeth who found her voice first. Then she covered her mouth.

He checked the lock one more time and stepped forward immediately, taking her left hand into his own and pushing back the sleeve of her green gown, examining her wrist. It seemed only seconds before he was crouching in front of Meryl, and it wasn't a trick of the light or his hair, his blue-green eyes really were too dark-

"I'm sorry, I thought you had -" His fingers were feather-light on her face, and Meryl jerked her head back, shoving the derringer under his chin. He froze with his hand still in midair, eyes comically wide.

"Who . . . the hell . . . are you?"

He stared at her, eyebrows raised the way he always did when he was silently asking permission to speak, and Meryl pushed him back using the derringer. "Don't touch me."

"Uh. . . Insurance Girl . . . you're bleeding."

Her stomach lurched, and he seemed to sense it, because he lifted his chin and carefully slid his left index finger over the mouth of the gun. "Meryl. It's okay. It's me."

Her rock-steady hand was no longer rock-steady, and she almost heard the echo of her father's voice as she withdrew her finger from the trigger cage and let the stranger take her gun.

His eyes were too dark.

Elizabeth took a step back from them, glancing at the door. "Knives – it's Knives in the lobby, isn't it-"

Vash nodded, though he never broke eye contact with her. "Yes. We need to leave."

He waited another beat, but Meryl just glared at him, and he straightened, expression sad. Elizabeth took a deep breath, then walked very stiltedly up to him. Meryl was certain she was going to hit him; her eyes could have cut glass.

"Explain yourself, Spot. Now."

He seemed stunned; then some kind of realization settled across his face. "Yes, mistress," he murmured deferentially, eyes downcast. "But you probably want to sit down first."

Her pet name for him.

She was testing to see if it was really him. If this stranger was really Vash.

Elizabeth didn't look convinced, but her mask was deeply cracked. "Why is Knives in the lobby?"

His grimace looked a little more grim. "Vash the Stampede is in the lobby," he corrected quietly. "He'll be up as soon as he's made his point."

"And what exactly is his point?" Her voice was brittle.

"He's taking the city's Plant tonight, like he said he would."

She seemed almost at a loss for words. "Can . . . can you not-"

"Please." He gestured at the bed. "I'll explain everything, just would you please sit down? Both of you?"

Elizabeth studied him intently for a moment. "I thought we needed to leave. Or are . . . are we waiting for Knives?"

His adam's apple bobbled, and then he glanced at his feet, inadvertently making eye contact with Meryl.

"Yes, we're waiting for Knives," he confirmed softly. "He won't be long."

Neither of the women moved, and the stranger scrubbed his hand through his dull hair. In the overhead light, Meryl could see a cloud of dust spring up around him. Dye, her mind noted clinically, cooked by the suns. He'd spent most of the day outdoors, then.

"I would have sent word ahead, but I didn't think . . . I didn't think you'd believe it."

"I wouldn't," Elizabeth agreed flatly.

Was it a trick . . . ? Was this Knives' idea of revenge?

His expression fell a little, and when the engineer remained rigidly where she was standing, he whined. "Is there something I can do that would make you believe it's really me? This is really uncomfortable . . . "

"Vash . . . we saw you . . . you melted the bulb." The engineer struggled to find the words. "Hundreds of iles were terraformed. There is no way you could have survived that kind of drain. There's . . there's not."

He blew out a sigh, turning towards the door at an unexpected yell. "What you saw . . . that wasn't . . . all me," he admitted after a pause, a little lamely. "At least, I don't think so."

Meryl chewed on that silently. If it wasn't all him, part of that energy was Knives? Or the Plants that had been surrounding the bulb?

Or the Plant that hadn't left the caverns at all. The one that had been missing.

"One of the Plants stayed with you," Elizabeth said slowly.

He nodded.

"Which one . . . ?"

"She never gave me her name," Vash said quietly, studying his left hand. "I don't think she wanted one."

So it was the Plant from the New Kennedy.

In her mind, it clicked. Vash had had part of the arm back already, by the time she and Doc had been wheeling him out of the infirmary. If she was responsible for it back then, she could have helped him again –

And channeled all that power into healing him, healing whatever was wrong with him.

"She taught me how to get my Gate back under control. But it . . . killed her." Vash hesitated. "And me, almost. I was unconscious for the better part of a week. After I woke up, Knives and I . . . we talked." He curled his fingers into a loose fist. "We're going to continue the project. If you're willing."

The engineer stared at him. "That's it?" she asked bluntly. "You thought you'd just walk into the room and tell us that you're alive and well, and we're just going to carry on like nothing happened?"

"No," he assured her, softly. "A lot's happened. Everything's changed."

"Clearly," she shot back. "After all, Knives is downstairs masquerading as you."

Vash sighed, falling silent for a moment. "I understand that you're angry-"

"Angry? I'm not angry, Vash. I'm many things, but I'm not angry." The engineer's tone disagreed. "I am terrified, from spending every waking moment in fear that your brother is going to find me and demand to know why the plant conversions have stopped. I am exhausted, because every time I close my eyes I see myself putting you into a bulb. Every time I put food in my mouth it tastes like ash. Every time I –" She cut herself off as the doorknob rattled.

Vash watched her intently, the briefest wave of – annoyance? – crossing his features, and then he closed his eyes.

"I know it hasn't been easy for you. All I can ask is your forgiveness."

The engineer pressed her lips together, trying hard to rebuild her mask, and Meryl found that she felt strangely detached. Maybe it was the blow to the head, but she wasn't angry, either.

"Are you . . . still a Plant?" Her mouth, on the other hand, apparently still had feelings on the matter.

He looked down at her, relief in his eyes. "Yes. But I'm not one hundred percent yet, and we anticipated trouble, so Knives is standing in for me while we sort things out."

"The saboteurs haven't taken any action." The engineer said it dismissively. "There's no sign of anyone from the New Kennedy still active in Collins."

The door handle didn't rattle, this time – it simply turned, the deadbolt sliding smoothly away as an invisible hand drew it back.

"Then you haven't been looking," a cold voice replied, and Millions Knives pushed the door fully open, stepping into the room. He hadn't actually taken Vash's coat. His was shorter, cut a little cleaner and certainly lighter. He didn't have it fastened, either, and his shirt was red as well. As the jacket shifted the soft fabric, Meryl could tell there was something beneath it – probably armor, Vash's had been visible under his shirts if he turned just right-

His eyes were powder blue, just as she remembered them, and they took her in coolly. In return, Meryl gathered her feet under her and stood.

Like hell she was going to sit on the floor in front of him.

The corner of his mouth turned up – and Vash frowned. "Did you confront any of them?"

"No." Knives nudged the door closed with the heel of his boot. "They're content to observe, for the time being. And speaking of which, the mayor is now quite eager to see the project finished."

Vash's frown deepened, and Meryl chose not to look at either of them, studying the suite instead. There was no longer any noise from the hallway, not with 'Vash the Stampede' on their floor, and the series of rooms seemed to be holding their breath.

"What of my men?" It was a shadow of the formidable engineer's previously imperious tone.

Knives gave her a long look. "They are intact. Inform them we will be extracting the Plant immediately."

"She hasn't agreed to continue working with us," Vash interrupted, his voice too strangely neutral. "I was just about to ask her."

"Yes, you're taking your dear sweet time, brother. Need I remind you-"

"I'm aware," Vash cut him off, and Knives' smirk spread.

"Very well. Would you prefer I wait outside?"

"No." Meryl blinked, though she was sure she wasn't as surprised as Elizabeth seemed to be for saying it. "Vash would never loiter in the hallway. You've attracted too much attention." The engineer gave them both a long look. "We'll complete the extraction tonight, but then we need to talk."

Vash's relief was almost palpable. "Then . . . you'll help us?"

"For a price," she growled, and then cast around the room for a moment. She crossed the bedroom with the beginnings of her usual sashay, grabbing a small clutch. Then she gave Knives a long look.

"Vash typically follows along behind me like a lost puppy. Shall I assume you will be deviating from that norm this evening?"

The Plant seemed to contemplate his next words. "Do not mistake me, woman. I too am displeased with this arrangement. However, Vash tells me you were merely doing as he instructed. For your sake, I hope that is the truth."

The engineer glared at him. "It sounds like we'll enjoy our time together this evening."

Millions Knives returned her glare with one of his own, then his eyes flicked to his brother's, and he turned on his heels and opened the door.

Elizabeth looked between them a moment, and Vash tentatively smiled. "Eh . . . have fun?"

"You had better be here when I get back," she growled, and then she stalked out of the room. Knives sighed, though it wasn't as resentful as Meryl would have expected, and then he followed her. The door closed firmly behind him.

And then they were alone.

For a beat they were silent. Then another. Vash took a preparatory breath, but Meryl shook her head.

". . . your eyes are different."

Vash blinked them at her, bewildered. "Really?" He glanced to her right, then headed to the chest of drawers, leaning in close to the mirror above it and inspecting them. "I guess I haven't really looked."

"And . . . your arm, it's –"

He didn't stop his study of his reflection, wrinkling his nose. "It is," he replied. "Sort of a by-product. I still don't remember . . ." It trailed off, and he dropped his eyes to his left arm, rubbing his wrist. "It feels like her," he said quietly. "Like she left a piece of herself in me."

Meryl bit her lip. "And you're still . . . you?"

He took a long time to answer, watching himself in the glass. "Maybe for the first time." He released his left wrist to grab a handful of his bangs, frowning at them. "This dye didn't work well at all."

"You didn't apply it properly." How many times had she heard Millie tell her the story of her Big Little Sister dying her hair for the first time? "Honestly, how can you be so old and . . ."

And she wasn't sure what she was going to say. Words were insufficient. He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her, and even if his hair was brown and his eyes were dull, his arms felt exactly the way they had before.

I called for you. You never responded.

I'm sorry. His arms tightened around her. I wasn't myself until just a few days ago. We came as soon as it was safe.

And is it safe? She closed her eyes and it occurred to her, belatedly, that she might be bleeding on him a little.

His chest shook with laughter. Knives won't hurt you. Or Elizabeth. We agreed.

What about everyone else?

Vash was quiet a moment, and then she felt – something. It was hesitant and demanding all at once, with more than a little hope thrown in, and a deep dash of cynicism. We acknowledged each other's point of view. Vash's thought was very certain, no matter what feeling she was getting from him. It's a true compromise this time.

So . . . it's going to go back to the way it was before? You were miserable-

"No." His real voice startled her. "This time will be different. This time we're going to do it together. The conversions, the collecting of our sisters . . . it's too dangerous to split up right now."

Meryl left her eyes closed, leaning into him. "And what about Eden?"

Well . . . She felt a hint of amusement that she was sure was not being generated by her own brain. I wasn't the only one who had a talk with Knives. I don't think anyone from the New Kennedy knows its location, and security is paramount, but if you get a chance to visit, I know Aliya would like that.

Her ill-fated sprint through the trees sprang to mind, and Meryl opened her eyes, pulling away just enough to look up at his face.

Yes. His eyes were the same color, just dimmer.

"Is she the only one?"

He considered that a moment. "No, I think my other sisters would also – ow!" He released her, hopping on one foot, and she considered kicking him a second time.

Is this . . . okay? For the first time, the thought was anxious. Is it too soon, or too weird?

"Too soon?" She couldn't help herself. "Vash, you don't do – what you did, that day, and then make me think you're dead for a few weeks, and then worry about something like that!"

He blinked at her, looking so innocent and honest that she almost felt sorry for kicking him in the shin. Almost. "Don't be mean, Insurance Girl, I didn't-"

She put two fingers to the cut, just in case her blood pressure caused it to re-open, and Vash dropped the act, stepping back into her space and putting his arms right back around her.

"So . . ."

"So," he agreed.

She looked up at him, pursing her lips. So what now?

In answer, Vash leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on her temple. I don't know. It felt . . . honest.

Knives still doesn't like me.

He'll come around. I really believe it.

You'd believe anything.

He sighed, and she felt contentment – his contentment. Yeah. I guess I would.

Meryl closed her eyes.

-x-

Author's Notes: I am certain I probably lost a few of you with the cliffie from last chapter, but for those of you who stuck with me . . . thank you. And I'm sorry. This took way too long, and it's not the same story it would have been without the hiatus in the middle. It was a huge learning experience for me – I would have almost been better off letting it end where it ended, and starting a whole new story from scratch rather than trying to pick up the style of the previous work.

So thank you. Thank you for letting me practice. Thank you for letting me know what you thought about the fic. These last twenty chapters had some good places – but it's not my best work by far, and Trigun really deserves that best. It's such a rich universe, and Vash and Knives really aren't as two dimensional as they appear so frequently in fic.

Well, at the very least, the boys have found some peace. You should really hit up Inkydoo, I hear she's going to start work again on The Long Slow Goodbye. And Meryl and Vash get a bit more of a chance in that one – you should check it out!