So, this is my first Trigun Fic. It's rather short and it will be completed shortly, it's all written out and such. I hope you readers like it. Vash x OC Friendship and a some made up towns. Don't kill me about that please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do, however, own my OC Sonya.


A small, sleepy town by the name of Orendell rested more than 60 iles away from Voldoor. Hidden, in a sand covered restaurant, was a "dangerous" man known as Vash the Stampede. This potentially threatening foe was on a vacation, away from his usual mission of seeking out his brother. Luckily for him, he had donuts as he listened to the sound of the sand, scraping a melody against the building. The kindly woman at the counter shot him a smile every so often and would ask for his name. But, in typical Vash fashion, he would not give a straight answer. So, he rested in the small restaurant, a well deserved break from his unfortunate life. But he was not the only unfortunate soul there.

A glass clinked down on the counter beside him. From the corner of his eye, he gazed at a sullen young woman. Her face wasn't visible, being covered by long mahogany locks. Vash could tell that she had been wandering a fair time, her white blouse discolored with filth.

"Another, please," she requested, motioning to the empty glass. Her voice was tired and light. A rasp of dehydration made itself known.

"Of course. That's 3 double dollars." The waitress refilled the glass with life sustaining liquid and took the money handed to her. Vash sensed a cloud of gloom hanging over the girl's head. Be kind to the humans Rem once told him. Having nothing else, he tapped her shoulder,

"Donut?"

"Hmm? Oh…no, that's alright. I have to leave soon anyway," she told him. But Vash was persistent,

"Just one donut, please? You sound like you need it!"

He flashed his cute yet goofy smile as she turned to face him. He remembered her face. The honey-hued irises of the young woman were tired with her past misdeeds. Her smile was a small smirk of hidden sorrow.

She was the girl from the Wanted poster hanging just outside the restaurant.

"Sonya th-!"

She clapped her hand over his mouth before he could finish. Her eyes urgently flicked to the waitress. Vash knew her actions all too well. He understood that this was a matter not to be discussed here.

"Trouble here?" the waitress asked, seeing her hand over his mouth. Vash tore the hand away,

"No trouble here, miss!"

"No trouble at all," the young woman added. "Thanks for the drink, it was good and cold."

She stood and grabbed the tan bag that rested on the floor beside her. Boots clicked across the wooden floors, as she exited the establishment. Vash fished out some money from his pocket and placed it on the counter before following. He found her leaning on the rails that lined the front porch of the building.

"So, was it the eyes or the hair that gave me away?" she asked.

"Actually, it was the sadness. Sonya the Siren, 30 million double dollar price on her head, for the murders of three people, in the north area. People say she can pull the trigger faster then you can say 'Don't'."

"You know who I am, what about you? You gotta price on your head?"

"$ $60 billion."

"The only person with a $ $60 billion price tag is Vash the Stampede. You're…not him, are you?" she asked, taking one cautious step away from him.

"What if I am?"

"Then, it's an honor to meet you in person."

"Then, I'm Vash!" he cried jubilantly. Sonya smiled,

"What brings you too these parts?"

"Taking a break. You?"

"Passing through. I have to go, speakin' of that."

She began to walk away, much to Vash's dismay. He hoped that he could get to know another outlaw. His brain snapped into action,

"Wait, why are you in such a hurry? Take some time!"

"Can't stay, I-"

"There she is!" a terrific roar sounded from down the street. Sonya turned to gaze upon the waste of space that was T. Mcwayer, one of the most ruthless bounty hunters of the lands. A few men stood behind him, what she guessed was his crew. His hair was slicked back and partially hidden under a large hat. He glowered at her, "So, Sonya the Siren, you gonna turn yourself in quietly, or, are we going to have a shoot out on our hands?"

"Draw your dammed gun, Mcwayer. It'll be your last time." she dared him, drawing her own silver revolver. The two guns menacingly gleamed in the midday light. She dropped her bag next to Vash.

"Sonya, don't do this," he told her.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. I have a reputation at stake."

"Don't kill him."

Sonya shot him a questioning look before stepping out into the sandy street. She met Mcwayer in the center of the street, back to back, guns blazing.

"We take ten paces. Start 'em now." the bounty hunter told her.

Ten paces between life and death, ten paces between heaven and hell. Sonya sighed and began walking,

"Now Mcwayer, what's it like to shoot a woman dead?"

"What are you talking about?"

"To kill me, as you intend to, right here. How does that feel?" she asked yet again. She began to hum lightly.

"Shut up."

Her humming grew louder, like the heat rising during the day.

"I said shut up!"

Sonya turned when he did, both guns drawn. A simultaneous bang of fire echoed in the streets. People had fled inside the nearest buildings and watched anxiously from the windows. The gun smoke cleared to a dim haze.


Please review! :)