The sweater looked very good on Milly. Meryl noted with a smirk that it was a little smaller around than the girl would have wanted, hugging her waist and curves. Despite this, Milly was grateful and thanked her profusely. The dark-haired girl, pleased with her underhanded victory, merely smiled and accepted graciously.

Vash had returned that night, and, upon hearing that his brother was awake, had actually left the doughnuts in the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom. She had waited in the kitchen for him, keeping the soup warm, standing over the stove emptily. It had been four hours since he had come home. Milly had gone to bed a while back. Except for the rustling of the wind, the house was nearly silent.

She set the burner under the soup to the lowest setting, and eased herself slowly into the chair in front of the table. Vash’s bright red sweater, finished, lay on the opposite end, bright in the moonlight. She wanted to see it on him. He and Milly had come in complaining about the cold this evening. She had announced that Knives had woken up before offering him the sweater, and so had not had the chance.

She rested her head slowly on her arms. She was tired, despite the frustrating fact she had done very little that day. She doubted Vash would come out tonight, but she would wait her if he did. She didn’t want him to have to eat cold food.

She must have dozed off briefly, because there was suddenly a light touch on her shoulder, and a soft, soft voice. “Are you awake?”

She sat upright abruptly. “Yes.” Her eyes raised to him, a shadow in the night, then widened. She stood, pushing past him, and hurried to the soup. A thin film had formed over the top, but that could be fixed. She stirred it, trying to make sure he wouldn’t be able to tell. It was still warm. “I’m sorry… it’s still good though.”

Amusement glinted in his tone. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat it later.” He paused for a second, and she turned, sensing his serious mood. “She’s asleep, isn’t she?” he asked, meaning Milly.

A nod.

He nodded back, his face a mask. “Would you come meet him with me now? He’ll be better with me there, I think.” Sweet inquisitiveness held his eyes.

The sweater could wait. She smiled slightly and nodded again, turning off the stove.

He was sitting up in bed. Pain wrinkled his forehead the instant before he saw her follow his brother through the door, but smoothed into stoicism after. Vash sat in the chair Meryl had occupied earlier in the afternoon. She simply stood behind him, unsure what to do.

Vash spoke first. “This is the girl I told you about. The one who is going to take care of you while you recover.” Knives gave her a momentary dark look, but did not reply. Instead, Vash looked disgruntled. “Well, you had better get over it then. She’s the one who is going to feed you and take care of all your other needs, and she gets angry if you’re rude.” Briefly, Meryl contemplated smacking him, but then considered that it would merely serve to illustrate his point. "Yes, she’s just human, but that will suffice.” There was a long pause, Meryl feeling inordinately awkward.  They almost seemed to be conversing. Twin speak? She had heard of twins talking in their own private language, but never one that was just body language.

“I will not,” Knives declared, his voice a darker version of Vash’s.

“You don’t have a choice,” Vash replied, his tone as even as his brother’s.

“Please, Knives-san, I promise to do my best for you if that’s what Vash-san-“ Meryl began hesitantly.

He cut her off with a glare, eyes much darker than their bright blue warranted, even in the night.

Aqua eyes, a mixture of frustration and regret, turned to her. “You should go to bed. You’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

It looked that way. She inclined her head towards them. “Goodnight, Knives-san, Vash-san,” and exited before either of them could reply.

Well, maybe she would give him his sweater tomorrow.