Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Meganichan04 here. Before we go any further, I just want to tell you one thing: This fic was NOT my idea! This story is the continuation of another fic written by a good friend of mine, plantspecimenj-chan, after weeks of begging, pleading, and groveling on her part. She wanted me to "Fix it! Fix it, please, I beg you!" but I'm not sure if I helped it or murdered it…you be the judge.
Just please do not flame this poor, novice poster for lacking the ability to write either angst or sap (or anything serious, really). If you were looking forward to the serious continuation of the original fic, I sincerely apologize for the direction I have moved the second part of the story in. But, if you weren't, then by all means enjoy the fic. Reviews are always helpful, as you all know.
Disclaimer: All the standard disclaimers apply, meaning that all characters portrayed herein are the property of Yasuhiro Nightow and various other companies I have nothing to do with. Except for the wolves, which belong to J-chan, and the lizard and crab, which I made up from lack of sleep and a warped sense of humor.
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"Get back here, you stupid animals!" Legato yelled, but to no avail. He was forced to watch, exasperated, as the tails of the last of his mighty sand-wolf army disappeared into the dunes at top speed. The creatures had been deserting for days now, and even Legato's astoundingly powerful psychic powers were exhausted from trying to keep control over them. Then there was the fact that he had to allow the pack to hunt at some point, as starved wolves would do him no good in his plot of world domination. They had willingly taken the opportunity to bail out.
"Fine! See if I care, worthless fleabags." They couldn't cook, they couldn't hold a decent conversation, and they all sucked furry ass when it came to playing a decent game of chess. On second thought, he was probably better off without them. He could always find new, slightly smarter, minions.
Minions. The word reminded him of Millions, and he curled his lip in displeasure. Yes, Knives and his god-awful annoying brother were first on his list of mass murder and destruction. Them, the insurance girls, and whatever town they were currently in. Oh, and Chapel, as soon as he found out where the moronic priest had run off to. Legato wasn't the only one who could fake his own death.
Sighing moodily, the blue-haired man turned away from the dunes. Aiming an annoyed kick at a small lizard scuttling across the sand, he stalked off toward the tiny house he had confiscated from some insignificant desert-dwelling humans who weren't intelligent enough to live in town. He'd long since discarded the hideous white coat he'd worn while under Knives' command, and the hot suns striking his black shirt was making him uncomfortable.
Once inside, Legato poured himself a glass of ice water and sat down at the table in the kitchen of his temporary base. Pulling out his to-do list, he added "spray for lizards" to the bottom. Just as he was about to go over his master plan for the domination of Gunsmoke, there was a loud knock on the door.
For a split second, Legato thought that just maybe the ingrate wolves had decided to come crawling back.
Of course not. What am I thinking? All this solitude is starting to affect my mind… Getting to his feet, he made his way to the door, hoping it wasn't the idiotic former owners he'd evicted from the house the week before. Surely they were buzzard bait in the dunes by now?
Wrenching open the door, Legato came face to face with a red coat, spiky blonde hair, and aquamarine eyes burning with the fires of righteous intent. Oh, God.
"Hey! You get back out here! Don't you slam the door on me, Legato!" Vash the Stampede yelled, pounding on the weather-beaten wood.
Legato leaned against the inside of the door, massaging his temples that seemed to reverberate in time to the pounding. He knew the spiky annoyance would figure out he was alive eventually, but he didn't think he would have to deal with Vash this soon. Maybe if he just pretended he wasn't there…
"Come on, I know you're there! We have a score to settle!"
Rolling his golden eyes, Legato pulled the door open once more. "I can't help but notice just how much bolder you are with your brother behind you, Vash the Stampede." The golden eyes narrowed. "Yes, I see you back there, Knives."
Knives would have flinched if it wouldn't have been so very out of character. He had promised Vash the sun, moon, and stars, as well as them hunting Legato down, without fully realizing that his twin wanted to begin immediately. And apparently, Legato didn't see him as a neutral party.
"Hello, Legato. Um, nice to see you're not dead."
"Uh-huh." Legato wasn't impressed. "Can we hurry this along, please? I have a full schedule today."
Vash cleared his throat, trying to force his voice to stay at its normal tone. He had been getting nervous since Legato had somewhat called his bluff, and his voice was threatening to rise to sissy level. "Uh, yeah! The first thing I wanna talk to you about is the family you threw out of this house! If Knives and I hadn't found them, they would have died out there in the middle of nowhere!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Next time I promise to make a point of killing them outright instead of letting them scurry off with their pathetic little lives. Next order of business."
"Uh…" Vash glanced vainly at his brother, who was drawing an intricate design in the sand with his foot. "Well, uh, I've been having some pretty weird dreams this past week, and, uh--"
"Do I look like a dream analyst to you?" Legato was losing patience. "Do I look like someone who even cares what runs through that spiky head of yours? I'm a very busy man. So why don't you be a good little annoying blonde desperado and wander off into the sunset? You could let your dear brother beat the shit out of you some more--" Legato's voice was rapidly rising into something greatly resembling a hysterical shriek "--since you still seem to like him so very much even after he's treated you so badly, you LOSER!"
Vash blinked frantically at the door that had once more been slammed in his face, trying to comprehend what had just taken place. Knives groaned, running a hand over his face. They were getting nowhere fast, and he had a feeling they wouldn't get anywhere until he did something he really didn't want to do. Sighing deeply, he nudged his twin out of the way and knocked briskly at the door. "Legato, I want to talk to you."
"Well, I have nothing to say and no reason to listen, so if you don't mind going away…."
"Get out here right now!" Knives commanded, forgetting one small detail. He was nearly bowled over off the porch when Legato threw the door open.
"Don't even think you can show up out of nowhere and order me around! I'm done being your obedient servant, remember?"
Knives righted himself, brushing dust from his shirt. "Will you just listen to me for two seconds?!"
"Did you ever listen to me for two seconds, you arrogant, egotistical asshole? You think that just because you don't happen to be human you can--"
"WHAT did you just call me?!" Knives was flabbergasted that his once-placid minion was capable of arguing with him like this.
"You heard what I said, Millions! You're a presumptuous, self-absorbed jerk who imposes his views on others-- and your fashion sense sucks sandworm!"
The look on his brother's face told Vash exactly what he needed to do next: run and hide. This he did without remorse, darting past Legato into the house and slamming the door behind him. After all, Knives had held Legato's leash for years. He should have no problem taking him down alone, right?
Wrong.
As Vash gingerly lifted the floral curtains for a peek at the proceedings, he saw Knives and Legato staring intently at one another as Western music played and a tumbleweed rolled by. Suddenly Legato's hand shot up and he began to bitch-slap himself. Knives immediately responded by pitching headfirst into the dirt, arms going behind his back to wrap in a painful pretzel knot. Vash cringed as he watched the psychic duel progress. Why didn't his brother seem to have any advantage?
Oh. Yeah. Vash had neglected to remember to return Knives' gun to him after their own duel. And if Knives deployed his angel arms, chances were they would all die. Well, crap.
The broom-headed gunman watched with dismay as the battle moved (fell, actually) off the porch and into the sand in front of the house. Knives and Legato tussled back and forth, raising a huge cloud of dust. Vash fancied he could almost hear the tune to Dueling Banjos.
"You ungrateful spider, how dare you treat me this way?!"
"UNGRATEFUL?! You call me ungrateful, you pompous ass? I did everything for you! I interfaced with the Gung-Ho Guns! I coordinated everything! I did your laundry, I cooked your meals-- hell, I even pandered to your vegetable ass for months on end while you floated in your giant pickle jar!"
"Oh, so this is about that whole not getting paid thing?"
"Who gives a flaming firebrand about the money?! All I ever wanted from you was some RESPECT!"
Knives blinked and ceased struggling, giving Legato a golden opportunity to grab him by the throat. "Whoa, wait! Time out! Five minute truce!"
"Damn." Legato got to his feet and brushed the dust off himself. He was a bit less pissed at Knives and was a little more willing to listen, having previously gotten the chance to whup up on the plant for awhile. "Well, go ahead. What was it you wanted to say?"
The blonde ran a hand through his short hair, causing sand, small rocks, and a tiny bug to fall out. The last he almost stepped on out of habit, but decided against it. It wasn't the bug's fault he didn't know what to say. "Well, Legato… I do owe you an apology. You're right. I treated you very poorly, and I'm sorry. But I want you to know that I did respect you. I just couldn't admit to myself that a lowly spider deserved respect. Even if I had admitted it, I wouldn't have had the guts to tell you. But I am now. I respect you. And I apologize."
Legato was dumbfounded. He blinked once. Twice. His lip quivered. "Do you mean that?"
Knives considered. He could say yes, and then when Legato's guard was down… but, no. That just wasn't right. Vash would probably shoot him again if he strayed from "good behavior," even if it was Legato he was pulling a fast one on.
"……Yes. I do." Knives' face was the color of a Gunsmoke sunset as he scanned for a rock to hide under until Legato and Vash went away. He was about to crawl under the porch when Legato suddenly smiled widely and launched himself at the plant.
"Master Knives!" he squealed, firmly glomping the mortified blonde. "You like me after all! You do care!"
"Gyaaaa! Get off of me, you psychotic mother--!" But Legato obliviously held tight, little hearts floating around his head. After a minute or so of struggling, Knives had to admit defeat and went limp, hoping that the old playing dead trick might get his once-again minion to release him from this most embarrassing predicament.
Vash, staring out the window, was dumbfounded. "He beat Knives…with a love attack?! This I have to see!" The Humanoid Typhoon wrenched open the door and darted out onto the porch, but before he could run out to meet his twin he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth fell open.
"What's the matter, Spiky? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"NICKY!" Vash all but flew down the steps and actually left the ground as he sprinted across the sand and dove on the long-missed priest. "Nick, I can't believe it's really you! What happened to you?! Where did you go?"
"Whoa, there, Tongari." Wolfwood had to laugh as he dropped his cigarette in the dirt to support the full weight of the Humanoid Typhoon sniffling in his arms. "Don't cry! I was in Jamaica, mon! I decided I'd better take an extended vacation before they actually managed to rub me out. I'm glad to see that the Cross Punisher helped you out a bit."
"Wolfwood, how could you do that?! We all thought you were dead! I cried, like, every day for a month!"
The priest sweat-dropped. "Uh, sorry, Needle Noggin. Don't be so upset. Look, I even brought you back a souvenir."
"Uh, hello?" Knives called, a bit peeved. "Can I get a little help over here?"
"Ooh, really? What did you bring me?" Completely ignoring his brother, chibi Vash immediately released Wolfwood's neck and reached out to accept a brightly colored plastic pail full of seashells, sand dollars, and a large bottle of banana rum. "Yay, tropical booze! Thanks, Nick!"
"I hate you both!" Knives screamed, still unable to slither away from his overly affectionate captor.
"Aw, don't be like that, brother. He's just showing you how much he cares." Rummaging through the pail, Vash brought out a large shell and walked over to hold it to his twin's ear. "Here, have a listen. I bet you can hear the ocean!"
Grumbling moodily, Knives nevertheless did as he was told and leaned forward to listen to the shell. A hermit crab popped out and latched one large claw onto his earlobe. Knives swore like a sailor and viciously shook his head until suddenly Kuro-neko appeared from nowhere and ate the crab. Everyone stood around staring at each other.
"Well. That was unexpected." Vash gathered up his gift and turned toward the house. "See you later, bro. Me and Nick are going to share this rum while I look at the pictures from his trip. You two have fun, now!"
"No! Don't leave me here, Vash! NOOO!"
So Vash and Wolfwood went inside and enjoyed their booze while ogling the pictures Wolfwood had taken of scantily clad women on the beach. Kuro-neko cleaned his whiskers. Legato enjoyed his Knives snuggle. Knives cried and was nearly traumatized for life. And everyone lived happily ever after! Well, except for Knives. Oh, and the crab.
Owari
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(2nd) Author's Note: Yes, I am aware that I should be shot. Thank you.