A/N:I do owe some credit to Blue Icee and Demon Dark Horse.
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, or any of it's property.
---------
It was dark. The two young women stood quietly on a roof, overlooking the city of
December, their trench coats flapping lightly in the warm breeze. The taller of the two lit a
cigarette and inhaled deeply.
"You sure they're planning on hitting this bank tonight?" she asked, blowing smoke
through her nose.
"Yup. The bartender tipped me off. Said that there was going to be some shit going
down over here," the shorter replied, taking a sip from her flask.
Sure enough, five masked people snuck into the bank. There were a few shots fired,
followed by screaming. The men ran out of the bank and jumped into their getaway vehicle, laden
with money.
"See ya down there," the tall one said, flicking the cigarette away. The short one
pulled her weapon.
"Yeah, I'll meet you down there in a sec, Psych," she said, taking aim.
Psych jumped off the building and landed on the getaway vehicle's roof. She sank to
her ankles in the thin metal of the car's roof, due to the steel soles of her boots.
"What the--?" one of the robbers asked, his head barely missing the deep dent.
Psych squatted down, leaned over, and stuck her face in front of the windshield,
tipping her hat politely and smiling. "Good ev'ning, boys. That's certainly a lot of money you
have there. Mind if I relieve you of it?"
Suddenly, the car sank even further when all four tires deflated at once. Psych jumped
to the ground, pulling out one of her guns. She aimed it into the air as the men scrambled out
of the damaged car.
"So, you gonna give me the money, or do you wanna get shot?" Psych asked, talking
through another cigarette that hung off her lip.
"We ain't givin' you shit, lady! Besides, how do you think you're gonna hit us pointing
that gun in the wrong direction?"
"Yeah, are you stupid?!"
Psych snorted. "Well, if I don't hit you, my friend up there definitely will," she
said, cocking her head in the direction of her partner on the roof. The other woman waved.
"Who the hell are you?" yelled one of the men angrily, pulling out a gun and aiming it
at Psych.
She smiled, and then fired into the air. Seconds later, the man's gun flew from his
hand.
"I'm Psychout the Ricochet."
A second man's cigarette was shot from his mouth, landing near Psych's boot. "I'll
take that. Tsk tsk tsk, such a waste," she said bending over and picking it up. She dusted it
off and started to smoke it, adding it to the one she already was in the process of smoking.
"My friend up there is Sightblinder the Longshot."
"What the fuck you doin' telling' everyone my goddamn name for, bitch?" Sight said as
she hopped down from the roof.
"Hey, watch your fuckin' language, you fuckin' potty mouth! You kiss your mother with
that mouth?" said Psych, exhaling a cloud of smoke and turning away from the confused men to
face her friend.
"Heh. No, I killed her with this here gun," Sight said, displaying the weapon, a proud
grin on her face.
Psych rolled her eyes in disgust. "You would be proud of something like that. You have
no damn manners."
"What the hell you talkin' about Psych?" asked Sight, a hand on her hip, "You ain't
got no manners neither, at least, not since I met ya."
Meanwhile, the would be robbers were trying to sneak away. Psych fired five shots
randomly into the air without turning around. Each bullet found its mark in one of the men's
legs. She glanced back to make sure they weren't going anywhere and then turned back to Sight to
finish their argument.
"Look here--Hey! Who the hell are you? And you need to watch where you're going!" Psych
shouted to a red-coated man that had crashed into her.
"Gee Miss, I'm terribly sorry," he slurred, obviously soused. His friend, a man dressed entirely in black,
gave the two a friendly smile, while trying to support his tipsy pal.
"Hey, so sorry," he said, also drunkenly, "This nut here has had a bit too much to
drink."
Psych pinched her nose with one hand and waved the other one around when the man in
black came within breathing range of her, "Whew, and apparently someone else has too. That stuff
will kill ya if you're not careful."
Sight cleared her throat and nudged Psych, "Ahem...speaking of killin'..."
"Oh yes, we have some unfinished business to take care of," said Psych, lighting yet
another smoke, "You boys better run along now. Ya'll take care."
"Aw gee, Wolfwood," blubbered the red-coated man, "Aren't they the sweetest? Their
kindness brings a tear to my eye..."
"Your eyes are always tearing, Vash," said Wolfwood, also lighting a cigarette,
"Remember last night when I swatted that fly? I thought you were going to cry forever."
"But it never did anything to you," replied Vash, making a sad face at the remembrance
of the waste of life.
"I still can't believe that you made me perform last rites on it!"
"Buuut Wolfwood..."
"Look buddies," interrupted Sight, getting annoyed, "You wanna get lost, or what?
Don't you have somewhere to be?"
Wolfwood thought for a minute, taking a drag of his cigarette, "...nope."
"Please help us mister," whimpered one of the injured bank robbers from behind Psych, "These women
are mur---."
Before he could finish his sentence, Psych kicked him roughly. "Shaddup already, if
you value your life."
"Hey," Wolfwood said, pushing Psych aside to get a better look at the pile of wounded
men, "What the hell is going on here? Who the hell are you two?"
Sight looked at Psych and aimed her gun at Wolfwood. "Kill him?"
"We warned you," sighed Psych, shaking her head sadly, "It's your own stupid fault. Do
whatever you want with these two, Sight, I'll grab the money. Hurry up though, the Sheriff and
his backup will be here any minute."
Sight grinned at Wolfwood, whose hands were held up defensively, "So, where do ya
wanna be shot first? I can make it real quick and painless if you prefer."
"W-wait a sec," stammered Wolfwood, looking over at Vash for help, "Why are you doing
this?"
"Let my friend go," said Vash calmly, raising his hands above his head to show he was
unarmed, "Please. I don't want any more people to get hurt. This doesn't have to end with loss of
life."
"Well," sneered Sight, "You certainly sobered up quick. Stand next to your friend here,
and don't pull anything or else I'll make you wish you were never born."
Psych grabbed a bag of money and tied it to her belt. "I got the loot Sight. What the
hell are you waiting for? Shoot 'em!"
Sight's hand actually trembled slightly as she moved her gun from Vash to Wolfwood and
then back again, "This is tough Psych," she said, wiping a free hand against her sweaty brow.
"Why?" asked Psych, "Just shoot them!"
"I-I can't!" Sight sighed, putting her weapon down, "One of these bastards is a damned
Priest. You do it."
"Wha?" Psych backed away, "Oooh no no no no no. It's bad luck to kill a priest. I ain't
going to hell. You shoot him."
"What do ya mean you ain't going to hell?" laughed Sight, "I think you're even more
hell bound than me!"
"Then leave 'em," shouted Psych, getting ready to bolt at the approaching sound of the
police wagon, "We got what we came for. C'mon, let's get the hell outta here! It's the Sheriff!"
Sight growled and took one more glance at Wolfwood and Vash, who were looking quite
relieved, before she took her friend's advice, "You two are damn lucky. Count your blessings. I
didn't kill you this time but if I run into you again, believe me, I will." She nodded to Psych,
"C'mon."
"Oh, before we go," Psych turned and plucked the cigarette from Wolfwood's lip, "Don't
mind if I bum one offa you, right?"
Wolfwood shook his head vigorously 'no'.
"Didn't think you would," replied Psych, slapping him lightly on the cheek, "G'night
boys."
"Wait!" called Vash as the two took off, "Hold on! Who are you?!" His calls went
unheeded though and they disappeared into the night without a backward glance.
Wolfwood breathed a sigh of relief, "That was a close one. I thought I'd be meeting
the big guy for sure. Wish I had brought my cross with me, that would've taught them a lesson or
two." He patted at his jacket, "Dammit, that was my last smoke! Cheap, lousy, rotten, no good..."
Wolfwood trailed off, muttering curses and letting out some of his aggravation through kicking
some dirt.
Vash stared off into the distance, "Those two were professional killers. Usually those
types don't let a soul live. Like she said, we were lucky." One of the robbers moaned pitifully,
making Vash turn back to the dilapidated car. He shook his head sadly at the pile of bleeding
men. "Don't worry guys, here comes the sheriff, he'll patch the lot of you up and then I guess
it's off to jail for you. Look on the bright side of things though, at least you're not dead!"
Vash gave them a cheery smile, causing all of them to groan.
The Sheriff ambled up, accompanied by a few casually dressed officers. He yawned
loudly, and surveyed the damage.
"What happened here?" he questioned Vash and Wolfwood, "I got a report that some men
were robbing the bank." He gestured to the pile of robbers, "You shoot these guys, or what?"
Vash put his hands up, "No no no no, sheriff, we were just passing by when it
happened."
"Yeah," added Wolfwood, "Two women shot them and took the money. We barely survived
ourselves."
"Look son," the Sheriff said, yawning again, "Don't bullshit me now. A couple of women
did this? Look at these bullet holes in the tires. That's precision shootin' m'boy, and your
spiky headed friend there is packin' some serious heat." He motioned to Vash's gun.
"But we didn't shoot them!" insisted Vash, crossing his arms as another officer tried
to handcuff him.
"I think you did," said the Sheriff, his eyes bloodshot and weary, "Don't give me any
trouble here, it's late, I'm tired, and if you haven't noticed, I'm still wearing my pj's. I
don't exactly like being awakened at 2 in the morning to have to deal with wannabe bank robbers
like you. Cuff 'em. I'm going back to bed. Stitch up these losers on the ground here and then
bar 'em up too."
Vash and Wolfwood found themselves spending the rest of their night locked up in a
cramped jail cell.
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, or any of it's property.
---------
It was dark. The two young women stood quietly on a roof, overlooking the city of
December, their trench coats flapping lightly in the warm breeze. The taller of the two lit a
cigarette and inhaled deeply.
"You sure they're planning on hitting this bank tonight?" she asked, blowing smoke
through her nose.
"Yup. The bartender tipped me off. Said that there was going to be some shit going
down over here," the shorter replied, taking a sip from her flask.
Sure enough, five masked people snuck into the bank. There were a few shots fired,
followed by screaming. The men ran out of the bank and jumped into their getaway vehicle, laden
with money.
"See ya down there," the tall one said, flicking the cigarette away. The short one
pulled her weapon.
"Yeah, I'll meet you down there in a sec, Psych," she said, taking aim.
Psych jumped off the building and landed on the getaway vehicle's roof. She sank to
her ankles in the thin metal of the car's roof, due to the steel soles of her boots.
"What the--?" one of the robbers asked, his head barely missing the deep dent.
Psych squatted down, leaned over, and stuck her face in front of the windshield,
tipping her hat politely and smiling. "Good ev'ning, boys. That's certainly a lot of money you
have there. Mind if I relieve you of it?"
Suddenly, the car sank even further when all four tires deflated at once. Psych jumped
to the ground, pulling out one of her guns. She aimed it into the air as the men scrambled out
of the damaged car.
"So, you gonna give me the money, or do you wanna get shot?" Psych asked, talking
through another cigarette that hung off her lip.
"We ain't givin' you shit, lady! Besides, how do you think you're gonna hit us pointing
that gun in the wrong direction?"
"Yeah, are you stupid?!"
Psych snorted. "Well, if I don't hit you, my friend up there definitely will," she
said, cocking her head in the direction of her partner on the roof. The other woman waved.
"Who the hell are you?" yelled one of the men angrily, pulling out a gun and aiming it
at Psych.
She smiled, and then fired into the air. Seconds later, the man's gun flew from his
hand.
"I'm Psychout the Ricochet."
A second man's cigarette was shot from his mouth, landing near Psych's boot. "I'll
take that. Tsk tsk tsk, such a waste," she said bending over and picking it up. She dusted it
off and started to smoke it, adding it to the one she already was in the process of smoking.
"My friend up there is Sightblinder the Longshot."
"What the fuck you doin' telling' everyone my goddamn name for, bitch?" Sight said as
she hopped down from the roof.
"Hey, watch your fuckin' language, you fuckin' potty mouth! You kiss your mother with
that mouth?" said Psych, exhaling a cloud of smoke and turning away from the confused men to
face her friend.
"Heh. No, I killed her with this here gun," Sight said, displaying the weapon, a proud
grin on her face.
Psych rolled her eyes in disgust. "You would be proud of something like that. You have
no damn manners."
"What the hell you talkin' about Psych?" asked Sight, a hand on her hip, "You ain't
got no manners neither, at least, not since I met ya."
Meanwhile, the would be robbers were trying to sneak away. Psych fired five shots
randomly into the air without turning around. Each bullet found its mark in one of the men's
legs. She glanced back to make sure they weren't going anywhere and then turned back to Sight to
finish their argument.
"Look here--Hey! Who the hell are you? And you need to watch where you're going!" Psych
shouted to a red-coated man that had crashed into her.
"Gee Miss, I'm terribly sorry," he slurred, obviously soused. His friend, a man dressed entirely in black,
gave the two a friendly smile, while trying to support his tipsy pal.
"Hey, so sorry," he said, also drunkenly, "This nut here has had a bit too much to
drink."
Psych pinched her nose with one hand and waved the other one around when the man in
black came within breathing range of her, "Whew, and apparently someone else has too. That stuff
will kill ya if you're not careful."
Sight cleared her throat and nudged Psych, "Ahem...speaking of killin'..."
"Oh yes, we have some unfinished business to take care of," said Psych, lighting yet
another smoke, "You boys better run along now. Ya'll take care."
"Aw gee, Wolfwood," blubbered the red-coated man, "Aren't they the sweetest? Their
kindness brings a tear to my eye..."
"Your eyes are always tearing, Vash," said Wolfwood, also lighting a cigarette,
"Remember last night when I swatted that fly? I thought you were going to cry forever."
"But it never did anything to you," replied Vash, making a sad face at the remembrance
of the waste of life.
"I still can't believe that you made me perform last rites on it!"
"Buuut Wolfwood..."
"Look buddies," interrupted Sight, getting annoyed, "You wanna get lost, or what?
Don't you have somewhere to be?"
Wolfwood thought for a minute, taking a drag of his cigarette, "...nope."
"Please help us mister," whimpered one of the injured bank robbers from behind Psych, "These women
are mur---."
Before he could finish his sentence, Psych kicked him roughly. "Shaddup already, if
you value your life."
"Hey," Wolfwood said, pushing Psych aside to get a better look at the pile of wounded
men, "What the hell is going on here? Who the hell are you two?"
Sight looked at Psych and aimed her gun at Wolfwood. "Kill him?"
"We warned you," sighed Psych, shaking her head sadly, "It's your own stupid fault. Do
whatever you want with these two, Sight, I'll grab the money. Hurry up though, the Sheriff and
his backup will be here any minute."
Sight grinned at Wolfwood, whose hands were held up defensively, "So, where do ya
wanna be shot first? I can make it real quick and painless if you prefer."
"W-wait a sec," stammered Wolfwood, looking over at Vash for help, "Why are you doing
this?"
"Let my friend go," said Vash calmly, raising his hands above his head to show he was
unarmed, "Please. I don't want any more people to get hurt. This doesn't have to end with loss of
life."
"Well," sneered Sight, "You certainly sobered up quick. Stand next to your friend here,
and don't pull anything or else I'll make you wish you were never born."
Psych grabbed a bag of money and tied it to her belt. "I got the loot Sight. What the
hell are you waiting for? Shoot 'em!"
Sight's hand actually trembled slightly as she moved her gun from Vash to Wolfwood and
then back again, "This is tough Psych," she said, wiping a free hand against her sweaty brow.
"Why?" asked Psych, "Just shoot them!"
"I-I can't!" Sight sighed, putting her weapon down, "One of these bastards is a damned
Priest. You do it."
"Wha?" Psych backed away, "Oooh no no no no no. It's bad luck to kill a priest. I ain't
going to hell. You shoot him."
"What do ya mean you ain't going to hell?" laughed Sight, "I think you're even more
hell bound than me!"
"Then leave 'em," shouted Psych, getting ready to bolt at the approaching sound of the
police wagon, "We got what we came for. C'mon, let's get the hell outta here! It's the Sheriff!"
Sight growled and took one more glance at Wolfwood and Vash, who were looking quite
relieved, before she took her friend's advice, "You two are damn lucky. Count your blessings. I
didn't kill you this time but if I run into you again, believe me, I will." She nodded to Psych,
"C'mon."
"Oh, before we go," Psych turned and plucked the cigarette from Wolfwood's lip, "Don't
mind if I bum one offa you, right?"
Wolfwood shook his head vigorously 'no'.
"Didn't think you would," replied Psych, slapping him lightly on the cheek, "G'night
boys."
"Wait!" called Vash as the two took off, "Hold on! Who are you?!" His calls went
unheeded though and they disappeared into the night without a backward glance.
Wolfwood breathed a sigh of relief, "That was a close one. I thought I'd be meeting
the big guy for sure. Wish I had brought my cross with me, that would've taught them a lesson or
two." He patted at his jacket, "Dammit, that was my last smoke! Cheap, lousy, rotten, no good..."
Wolfwood trailed off, muttering curses and letting out some of his aggravation through kicking
some dirt.
Vash stared off into the distance, "Those two were professional killers. Usually those
types don't let a soul live. Like she said, we were lucky." One of the robbers moaned pitifully,
making Vash turn back to the dilapidated car. He shook his head sadly at the pile of bleeding
men. "Don't worry guys, here comes the sheriff, he'll patch the lot of you up and then I guess
it's off to jail for you. Look on the bright side of things though, at least you're not dead!"
Vash gave them a cheery smile, causing all of them to groan.
The Sheriff ambled up, accompanied by a few casually dressed officers. He yawned
loudly, and surveyed the damage.
"What happened here?" he questioned Vash and Wolfwood, "I got a report that some men
were robbing the bank." He gestured to the pile of robbers, "You shoot these guys, or what?"
Vash put his hands up, "No no no no, sheriff, we were just passing by when it
happened."
"Yeah," added Wolfwood, "Two women shot them and took the money. We barely survived
ourselves."
"Look son," the Sheriff said, yawning again, "Don't bullshit me now. A couple of women
did this? Look at these bullet holes in the tires. That's precision shootin' m'boy, and your
spiky headed friend there is packin' some serious heat." He motioned to Vash's gun.
"But we didn't shoot them!" insisted Vash, crossing his arms as another officer tried
to handcuff him.
"I think you did," said the Sheriff, his eyes bloodshot and weary, "Don't give me any
trouble here, it's late, I'm tired, and if you haven't noticed, I'm still wearing my pj's. I
don't exactly like being awakened at 2 in the morning to have to deal with wannabe bank robbers
like you. Cuff 'em. I'm going back to bed. Stitch up these losers on the ground here and then
bar 'em up too."
Vash and Wolfwood found themselves spending the rest of their night locked up in a
cramped jail cell.