Age is Just a Number

"Chelsea, for the last time; I'm only 21!" Vaughn yelled, stopping trudge coming out of the resident farmer's barn.

The annoying, hyper farmer had been following him around all morning as he brought her a calf and the fodder she ordered, mostly questioning his abnormal hair color and age. He would never understand how she managed to run a farm and annoy the crud out of him each day he was on the island. Saying she liked to start conversations and be friendly would be an understatement.

"Oh c'mon, Vaughn!" she giggled, oblivious to his wearing patience. "You have to admit, your hair does make you look kinda...elderly."

"I have the face of a grown man!" he shouted exasperatedly.

"And the attitude of Taro before he takes one of his naps," she added, smirking slightly.

"My hair has always been this way, and so has my personality," Vaughn stated gruffly, crossing his arms with a scowl. "If you don't like it, it's not in my nature to care."

"So you've always been cranky and old?"

"Yup." It wasn't until she started giggling when he realized what he could've said differently.

"Wait, I mean-" Chelsea then started bursting out into laughter at his tomato-looking face. Whether it was reddened because of his embarrassment or frustration, she didn't care. She loved to see the reactions and looks she could get out of him other than just his signature bitter glare or the cold shoulder. This was almost as good as the time she stole his hat and made him chase her for it.

Almost.

Vaughn could actually feel a vein popping out of his forehead as Chelsea fell to her knees, clutching her quickly-heaving stomach. Unable to take anymore of her irritating laughter at his own expense, Vaughn turned on his heel and began walking away.

"W-Wait!" she called out to him. She quickly wiped a tear away and scrambled to catch up to him. He wasn't slowing down, but she saw him glance at her from the corner of her eye.

"What do you want now?" he asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance etched into his voice.

"Heh, sorry if I offended you. I really do like your hair, though." He only grunted in response, but on the inside he appreciated the compliment, no matter how small. They then began walking in a comfortable silence from the ranch and to Mirabelle's Shop/house. Suddenly, a small smirk played along his face.

Time for revenge.

"So, how old are you?" he asked curiously.

"Twenty," she responded simply.

"Mmhmmmm," he murmured disbelievingly.

"I really am!" she pouted indignantly.

"Did I say that you weren't?"

"No, but you were thinking it," she growled.

"Whatever you say, 'Shorty'".

"'Grandpa'," she countered fiercely.

"'Small Fry,'" he argued back.

"'Green Giant'." This made Vaughn hesitate.

"'Green Giant'?" he questioned.

She looked up at him curiously. "You know; the guy from the string bean commercials? He always gave me the creeps when I was little." She shuddered involuntarily.

"So now I'm old and creepy?" he scoffed. She smiled teasingly as they finally made it to the door and she opened.

"If the cowboy hat fits..." she smirked, loud enough for Vaughn to hear when she stepped inside.

Hearing the bell jingle, Julia's head snapped up, and then she glanced at the two and smiled warmly. Vaughn headed straight for the kitchen fridge to drink some milk as Chelsea bounced over to greet her best friend.

"I hope Vaughn got you what you needed without any...problems," Julia told her, knowing how the animal transporter could act.

"Actually," Chelsea started, turning to smirk playfully at the cowboy who was also accompanying them in the kitchen, "he acted very mature for his age."

This earned a loud, annoyed groan from Vaughn, a giggle from Chelsea, and a confused but satisfied expression from Julia.

She couldn't wait for the two of them to get together already.

A/N: Like it? Love it? Tolerate it? Lemme know! If I left you wanting more, I may/may not make it a series of one-shots including Vaughn interacting with the other islanders. I'll take requests, too, because the Inspiration Fairy might not visit me too often. No flames, but constructive criticism is welcomed. The chances are, I'll get better rather than worse. R&R please!