Stuck in the Sky
Okay….Before we begin, I would like to make a note that I do not own any of the characters, gun types, or drinks mentioned in this story. That said, we shall move on.
It was high noon. Another morning had gone by for the infamous Vash the Stampede. As he sat in the bar, thinking how damned broke he was, he heard the twin doors of the bar swing open, hit the walls, and go back to their original positions as a tall man, clad entirely in a black tuxedo, save for his ruffled white shirt, walked smoothly into the bar, asked for a Scotch on the rocks, and took a seat next to the blond, red-clad man.
Nicholas Wolfwood had just taken his seat when the man next to him spoke up. "What're you doing here? I thought we were done." Nicholas chuckled and took a drink of the alcohol that had just arrived. "You think a lot of things, Vash. Most of which are wrong." He laughed again, downed the rest of the Scotch in one shot, and stood up. "Thanks, Mr. Money's on the table." As he walked away, Wolfwood turned his head and muttered, "You're the best man," to Vash, and walked out of the bar.
Vash's curiosity was peaked. He ran to catch up to Wolfwood, who was calmly walking down the street to the nearest Tailor. "What are you talking about? I'm the best man? What the hell do you mean?" "I mean, you're the best man." "Best man of what? The year?" "No, Best Man of my Wedding." Vash was silenced. He stopped in his tracks and simply stared at Wolfwood's back as he entered the tailor shop. "Nicholas is straight?" He followed him into the tailor shop.
"Yeah…Yeah, that's perfect." Nicholas looked around the tailor shop until his eyes stopped on Vash. "Oh, geez…" Wolfwood sighed and turned from the tailor, giving him his down payment for the suit. "Vash, it's no big deal."
"No big deal?
"Exactly."
"How can you say that? My best male friend is getting married! That's huge! Who's the unlucky girl?"
Nicholas laughed, then turned his sight from Vash to another wall of the shop.
"If you must know, her name is Sonya. I met her three months ago, but opted not to tell you, knowing you'd try to make a move on her."
Vash was taken aback. He coughed, and then tried to smooth his spiky blond hair back
"Why…whatever do you mean, Nicholas?"
"I mean, you'd try, try mind you, to woo her."
"Why, my dear Nicholas, I would never do such a thing."
"Uh huh. The infamous Vash the Stampede, swearing he wouldn't try and sweep my fiancé off her feet. I'll believe it when I see."
"So…Let me meet her."
Okay….Before we begin, I would like to make a note that I do not own any of the characters, gun types, or drinks mentioned in this story. That said, we shall move on.
It was high noon. Another morning had gone by for the infamous Vash the Stampede. As he sat in the bar, thinking how damned broke he was, he heard the twin doors of the bar swing open, hit the walls, and go back to their original positions as a tall man, clad entirely in a black tuxedo, save for his ruffled white shirt, walked smoothly into the bar, asked for a Scotch on the rocks, and took a seat next to the blond, red-clad man.
Nicholas Wolfwood had just taken his seat when the man next to him spoke up. "What're you doing here? I thought we were done." Nicholas chuckled and took a drink of the alcohol that had just arrived. "You think a lot of things, Vash. Most of which are wrong." He laughed again, downed the rest of the Scotch in one shot, and stood up. "Thanks, Mr. Money's on the table." As he walked away, Wolfwood turned his head and muttered, "You're the best man," to Vash, and walked out of the bar.
Vash's curiosity was peaked. He ran to catch up to Wolfwood, who was calmly walking down the street to the nearest Tailor. "What are you talking about? I'm the best man? What the hell do you mean?" "I mean, you're the best man." "Best man of what? The year?" "No, Best Man of my Wedding." Vash was silenced. He stopped in his tracks and simply stared at Wolfwood's back as he entered the tailor shop. "Nicholas is straight?" He followed him into the tailor shop.
"Yeah…Yeah, that's perfect." Nicholas looked around the tailor shop until his eyes stopped on Vash. "Oh, geez…" Wolfwood sighed and turned from the tailor, giving him his down payment for the suit. "Vash, it's no big deal."
"No big deal?
"Exactly."
"How can you say that? My best male friend is getting married! That's huge! Who's the unlucky girl?"
Nicholas laughed, then turned his sight from Vash to another wall of the shop.
"If you must know, her name is Sonya. I met her three months ago, but opted not to tell you, knowing you'd try to make a move on her."
Vash was taken aback. He coughed, and then tried to smooth his spiky blond hair back
"Why…whatever do you mean, Nicholas?"
"I mean, you'd try, try mind you, to woo her."
"Why, my dear Nicholas, I would never do such a thing."
"Uh huh. The infamous Vash the Stampede, swearing he wouldn't try and sweep my fiancé off her feet. I'll believe it when I see."
"So…Let me meet her."