Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun...but I wish I did...crys BACK OFF! Its mine! OH YES! It is mine! Well I want Vash, everything else Yasuhiro Nightow can have! nods Yup, Vash is mine!
Note: Um, this is my first fanfic, so its not gonna be exactly perfect.
He sat there, Vash the Stampede, sipping at his glass in an almost empty saloon in the middle of May City. His sunglasses gleamed in the desert daylight shining through the window when he noticed his glass was almost empty. He turned to the young waitress who was talking to a drunk and lifted his hand to catch her attention. "Hey, um, I..." Vash lowered his hand slightly.
"Look, sir, I told you! You pay $$50 or no drinks!" the waitress grew very annoyed.
"I don't owe you a..."the drunk slurred his words, "...a, a darn thing."
"I ain't getting any younger old man! Pay and you can leave!"
The man said nothing and continued to gulp down the alcohol. The waitress sighed and reached for the man's glass, "I'm sorry, but I'll just have to take back these dri-.."
The drunk had pulled out a gun and pointed it at the girl's forehead. "I don't owe you a damn thing!"
She stood there, her eyes wide open in shock. The waitress withdrew her hand from the table and returned it to her side. Her face grew more serious, "Please, I don't want any trouble. Just put your gun down and lets talk."
"Shut up!" the drunk yelled, sweat dripping down his face as he moved the gun closer. His finger began to pull on the trigger slowly, his hand quivering.
The girl shut her eyes quickly as a gun shot ran out from the saloon. After a few seconds she opened one eye slowly, thinking she was dead, to see the man's gun on the ground and his face turned in shock. "Huh?" She turned to see what the drunk was scared of and what was so shocking.
There stood at the next table a tall, blond, spiky haired gunman in a red coat, holding a huge silver gun. Smoke left the barrel of the gun as he lifted it to his face. He had shot the drunk's gun straight out of his hands, leaving the drunk very confused. "What is going on!" the drunk panicked and ran out the door.
"Uh, hey, wait! You didn't pay." her voice grew quieter and she turned to the gunman.
He came closer, putting his gun back at his side, his glasses slide down slightly so you could see his eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, growing a small smile on his face.
She peered at him. "I didn't really need your help." She showed him her left hand, which had been hidden the whole time. It held a small silver gun, fully loaded, and ready to fire at any time.
"You were going to shoot him?" the gunman asked.
"I wasn't going to kill him! Just injure him enough to knock some sense into him." She put the gun away in her back pocket and began to clean up the mess the drunkard had made.
"Thanks though. I didn't expect that to happen." she smiled, her eyes closed, turned to Vash.
Vash suddenly put a hand on her shoulder and his face grew more serious. The waitress stopped and gasped lightly. "You know, the desert is a very dangerous place. You have know idea what could happen next, especially with a desert full of dangerous men and young girls like you. Sooo..." his face grew a big smile, "...how would you like your own personal body guard?"
"Wha-!" she turned, a sweat drop slowly dripped down her face.