I do not own Trigun / Vash or Lina. They belong to the amazing Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

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Stampede Away

Year 170 month 12 day 16

Lina sighed in frustration, and blew her fading hair out of her eyes.

A few months ago, a bandit claiming the name "Vash the Stampede" had started causing trouble around the outskirts of town. She and her deputies, including her overly-dedicated eldest son Eriks, had been trying to catch the scoundrel.

It had been another exhausting month, with no success. Today seemed worse than usual, since the blasted bandit had troubled some travelers while she and her deputies were out in the desert.

She wanted this nuisance stopped, dang it! It was bad enough that he was causing trouble, but worse that he was using a name she secretly honored in her heart to do it. She knew the man who owned that name, and she knew he would never stoop to the crimes this ... son-of-a-gun ... committed.

She suspected that her son Eriks was extra-annoyed for his namesake's true name being misused, also. She smiled fondly, thinking of how tall and strong her eldest son had grown. She loved all of her children, but somehow the eldest boy had a special place in her heart. She tried never to show that to anyone, not wanting to hurt the others. But there it was, nonetheless.

Lina glared again at the wanted poster, proclaiming a high price on the head of Vash the Stampede. That gentle soul would never deliberately do anything to hurt others, unless they were threatening innocent people. If someone did threaten innocent bystanders in his presence, though, she'd seen that he was perfectly capable of disabling them to rescue their intended victims.

Her own gunfights, to her dismay and endless regret, had not always ended without deaths. She'd always done the best she could, though. As sheriff, she'd had access to better information than most. She knew Vash didn't kill, and she deeply respected that.

She roused herself from her wandering thoughts. She must be growing senile. She kept getting lost in thought during quiet times, these last two years. She could feel herself slowing down. "Pushing 60," as some people described it, turned out to be hard work.

The last few months, there was some stiffness growing in various places. That warned her that she ought to consider retiring soon.

Except for the paperwork, the job of Sheriff suited her right down to her toes. She would miss it. However, it would mean more time with her husband. She'd never felt romantic toward the original Eriks, though she always admired him. Her husband had reminded her of Eriks when she met him, which was largely responsible for them becoming friends.

In time, she'd come to love her husband for himself. Otherwise, she'd not have married him. Yet the times he reminded her of Eriks had helped endear him to her. That gentleness was reflected in all of their children, to some extent.

Her own spunkiness was also in most of their children. She was proud of her kids: they'd all grown up well. She suspected the credit went at least as much to her husband as to herself.

And there she was, thinking again. She stood up and stretched. It had grown fully dark. It was past time to lock up the office. Her husband would be worried about her, and dinner would likely be growing cold.

She pulled the keys out of her pocket, and walked to the door. She pulled her wrap off the hook, put it on, turned off the light, and stepped outside.

Just as she was about to lock the door however, she heard her name.

"Lina," a voice called softly, "could you wait a minute on that?"

She whirled around, dropping her keys and reaching for her gun. Then she felt silly. The moonlight shone brightly upon the tall, lean figure and his familiar face. She would never be in any danger from this man!

"Eriks!" she said, stooping quickly to retrieve her keys. He carried someone over his shoulder who might need help.

"What can I do to help?" Lina asked.

"Unlock the jail, please," he said. She saw him smile, and she smiled in return.

"Sure thing," she said. She'd not yet locked the door, only pulled it shut, when he interrupted her. So she opened it again, flipped on the lights, and led the way to the back where the cells were. She unlocked one, and opened its door.

"Thank you," he said. He put the bound man onto a bed inside the cell, and then began to untie him. "He's out cold now, but he was more trouble than some of them have been. Better if he's already caged before anyone else has to deal with him."

She took a closer look at the man Eriks/Vash was untying, and gasped. It was the imposter, it had to be. The red coat, the spiky hair... there was no room for it to be a coincidence. "You caught him!" she said. "We've been chasing him for months..."

"I know," he said, briefly turning his face to flash a quick smile at her over his shoulder. "I thought a little assistance might not come amiss."

"You, Mister, are always welcome," she said.

"Because I'm wanted?" he said, but his tone of voice was teasing.

"I'm off duty," she said cheerfully. "I do want you, but for different reasons." Her smile turned mischievous. "I remember how good you were at doing chores!"

He laughed, finished reclaiming his ropes, and moved away from the criminal. Lina locked the cell after he came out.

Pocketing her keys, she hugged him. "It's so good to see you again," she said. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Lina," he said softly as he returned her hug. "I didn't want to be any trouble to you, though, so I've stayed away."

She pulled out of the hug and punched his arm. "You're worth any amount of trouble, you goof," she said.

"Ow!" he protested, rubbing the place on his arm where she'd punched him. He was smiling.

He hadn't changed at all, except that his hair was black instead of blonde. Sixty years had passed since he'd lived with her as a member of the family, back when she was a child.

He looked exactly the same, while she had fading hair and wrinkles. It wasn't fair.

His all-too-brief visit one evening in the desert, years ago, was the only time she'd seen him since she was a child. She was glad he wasn't ill this time.

"Come home with me," she invited. "I'd like you to meet my husband, and stay at least long enough for dinner. You can stay longer, too, if you'd like."

"I wish I could," he said, "but there are bounty hunters in town."

"Pfft, bounty hunters," she said scornfully. "I'd like to see them try anything..."

"One of this set is particularly careless with his shooting," he replied. "He's likely here for that guy" Eriks gestured toward the unconscious criminal in the cell "but he'd doubtless be happy to catch me instead. I won't risk you."

Lina rolled her eyes. "I'm not a child anymore, you know," she said. He dodged her second punch easily, laughing.

"I know," he said, still smiling. "I still wouldn't forgive myself if I brought that kind of trouble to you."

Lina sighed. He could be stubborn; she remembered that and the facial expression that went with it. He was wearing that expression now.

"There's no way I can change your mind?" she asked wistfully.

He hugged her. "No," he said gently. "I need to go."

Suddenly she felt like a little girl again, and held onto him as long as she felt she could get away with it. "You will take care of yourself?" she said.

"I do my best," he said, "And, as you may recall, I have a friend who looks after me, too."

"Is that boring girl still traveling with you?" she asked.

He chuckled. "She may not be as spunky as you are," he said, "but she has a good heart. She's good for me, Lina."

Lina heard the change in his voice as he spoke that last sentence. That strange, quiet girl had grown into more than a friend, she realized. "Is she out in the desert somewhere waiting for you?" she asked. "She could come to dinner, too."

"She's far away, safe among people I trust," he said. "And much like you, she'd prefer that I stayed with her. Though I can't, for all the same reasons I can't stay here... and maybe one or two others, also."

Lina heard a vulnerability in his voice as he'd spoken the last few words, and pulled out of the hug. It was almost as if something hurt him.

"She's not being mean to you, is she?" Lina said. "If she is, I'll -"

"No," he said, with a lopsided grin. "She's just young, that's all."

Lina relaxed. She could piece together a picture from what he'd said. "If she's anything like me," she said, "she'll only miss you more instead of less as the years go on."

He reached out with his right hand, and gently stroked her cheek with his calloused fingertips. "Thank you," he said. "It's kind of you to say so."

"Kind nothing," she said, staring defiantly into his eyes. "I'm only saying what's true."

"Thank you all the same," he said, smiling his gentle smile. "I wish I could take you and yours to where she is, but you're needed here. And I need to go."

"You can come again, anytime," Lina said. "You will always be welcome in my house."

"Thank you," he said. "Take care of yourself, Lina."

She hugged him again. "I will," she said.

He hugged her back, patted her shoulder, and then pulled away. He smiled, and walked toward the door that led out.

She followed him as far as the doorway out, turning off the lights and locking up. He waited for her to pocket her keys, before waving and walking away into the night.

Lina watched him until he was out of sight, and sighed. She wondered if she would ever see him again, as she walked toward the home that she shared with her husband.

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Author's note: The prior visit between Vash and Lina is detailed in chapter 3 of "Vash's Long Road to Home."