Back in the kitchen, the two insurance girls had finally found a rag

Back in the kitchen, the two insurance girls had finally found a rag. Millie was busy wiping up the puddle of orange juice on the table. Meryl had finally finished her brownies.

Wolfwood eyed the snicker doodle cookies as he passed them. Their scent was enticing and they were the perfect size: big. He tore his eyes away from them and repositioned them to Millie.

"About this cigarette addiction," he started. "You know, it's almost impossible to quit. Hardly anyone does… and even those that do almost always fall back into it."

Millie looked up at him with her enormous, blue eyes. Immediately, Wolfwood felt the impulse to defend his statements.

"96 of people who smoke never quit, including those that try. 4 who do normally just fall back into it anyway. Only 3 actually give it up for good." He belted.

The statistics were made up. All of them. When Meryl gave him a quick glance he had the annoying feeling that she knew he was full of it.

"And even after quitting, I would have health problems anyway," he added.

"But you would be so much happier," Millie told him.

"Yeah, I guess." As he stared into her eyes his mouth seemed to move on its own accord. He was falling into her trap again. Quickly he tore his eyes away from hers and placed them comfortably on the kitchen chair. He stumbled over his words. "Maybe… but… well actually, I'm not sure I would be… that much happier. Not really…"

The small insurance girl looked up again. He sensed her burning eyes on the back of his head. He chanced a glance at her.

Yup. She knew exactly where he was going with this. He could tell by the irritation in her dark eyes that any remaining respect she had for him was evaporating by the minute. He trudged on.

"That whole promise happened really fast," he explained. Accidentally, he looked back up into Millie's eyes. She still looked unaffected by his words. "I didn't really want to go through with it. It's just so difficult."

"But we'll all help you Mr. Priest," she assured.

"What he means, Millie, is that everything he told you was a lie and he had no intention of quitting his health hazardous vice." Meryl cut in as she took off the yellow oven mitts.

She muttered something under her breath that Wolfwood couldn't distinguish.

Millie looked back to Wolfwood inquisitively. He felt his heart pounding loudly as they stared at one another. What the heck had he gotten himself into this time?

"But I thought you wanted to quit." Millie said.

"I…" Wolfwood held on to the word. He dragged the syllable out. Perhaps hoping one of them would help finish the sentence for him.

Both of the insurance girls were staring at him. Millie's eyes looked innocent and Meryl's looked condemning.

"I…" He stalled. "I do…"

"Well, then, it's settled isn't it?" Millie asked with a smile.

"I guess…" He mumbled.

Meryl rolled her eyes at him and returned to her brownies.

"You over complicate things, Mr. Priest," Millie giggled.

She handed him the dirty towel when he suddenly realized Vash still had his room key. He rushed to the window. The outlaw was gone.

Without bidding the insurance girls goodbye, he grabbed a snicker doodle cookie and darted out the door again. He sensed Meryl's irritable eyes on his back as the door shut behind him.

Vash couldn't go in his hotel room. He couldn't, not with everything the Priest had laying around or the type of people he had popping up for him. He felt sweat on the back of his neck as he dashed for the hotel. What would happen to him if someone had blown his cover? Now, the building felt iles away from him, and Vash was still nowhere in sight. He stuffed the entire snicker doodle cookie in his mouth. Even in his rush he felt a surge of enjoyment as it danced across his taste buds.

For the first time in his life he felt a sudden understanding of the short insurance girl. Keeping both Vash out of trouble and in eyesight was harder than it looked.

Finally, he reached the building. He jerked the door open and nearly ran into the gunman, who smiled.

"Did you tell her?" He asked.

"No, she talked me into following through," Wolfwood said quickly.

"Perfect," Vash chimed. "I'll go get you're stuff."

"No!" Wolfwood exclaimed.

Vash's eyes found his. He laughed at the Priest. "But you're in no condition to carry all of that stuff, you must be feeling exhausted. Don't worry. I'll be back in a heartbeat."

Narrowing his eyes, the Priest nicked his key from the outlaw's hand.

"I'LL GET MY STUFF!" He growled.

Vash put his empty hands up in surrender. "Whatever you say… but don't go sneaking anything you shouldn't."

Vash waited patiently for the Priest to return. He watched the last sun slowly disappear behind the parallel building.

How long had it been? Three hours and the Priest was already becoming angry and over reactive? This was going to be harder than even Vash had anticipated.

When Wolfwood returned, Vash immediately took one of his bags. After handing over the room key, they exited the hotel. Vash was following annoyingly close to the Priest. He appeared to be trying to read over Wolfwood's shoulder, but nothing was there for him to read. The bag in his hands kept whacking the Priest's leg. Vash's breath was irregular; he seemed to be having trouble breathing. On the back of his neck, Wolfwood could feel its sporadic pattern. When the outlaw finally snorted, the Priest whirled about to face him.

Whack! The bag hit him just behind the knee.

Wolfwood clenched his fists as he met Vash's calm eyes.

"Do you have to walk so close to me? What the heck are you doing?" He growled.

Vash's eyes shifted from his uncomfortably.

In response, Wolfwood glared.

"I was just trying to check if you had snuck anything while you were in your room…" he mumbled.

"By following me so close?" Wolfwood asked in irritation.

"Yeah. But I guess you're clean, because I haven't been able to catch a stronger scent than usual." Vash explained.

He gave the Priest his goofy smile.

"Well, I haven't!" Wolfwood snapped. "That big insurance girl threw the rest of my cigarettes in the trash, so you can stop breathing on me."

"I was sniffing." Vash corrected.

"Even better!" The Priest said. His tone was oozing with sarcasm.

Vash didn't appear to understand his irritation. He was still smiling. He looked as if he knew something about quitting cigarettes that Wolfwood didn't. This thought annoyed the Priest even more. Vash didn't seem to take anything he said seriously. In fact, it appeared that the outlaw was treating him like a child.

In a bitter temper, with a pounding headache, he continued walking. Silence lasted for a total of two seconds before being mutilated by Vash again.

"Hey Wolfwood!" He said happily.

"WHAT?!"

The Priest's tone didn't affect the blond any more than a drop of water could put out a fire. In fact, it seemed to act like gasoline, feeding Vash's crackling laughter. Obnoxiously enjoying himself, Vash pointed to restaurant across the street.

"See that place over there?" Vash asked.

Wolfwood didn't answer. The question was stupid. The building was so extravagant that missing it would only be acceptable to the blind. Many people were having dinner there, and a man in a suit was standing outside with menus. Everything about the place looked over priced and it reeked of a high-class sophisticated lifestyle. Just inside the door, on the reservation desk, Wolfwood spotted a silver bowl full of citrus fruit.

"If you quit smoking, you can go in there."

"I can go in there whenever I want. I just can't smoke in there." The Priest rebuked icily.

He spotted the no smoking sign by the door and looked away.

For some incomprehensible reason, Wolfwood's answer seemed to work as a further catalyst to the flame. Vash's saintly mood exploded and he started listing everything the Priest could do once he stopped smoking. Most of them were as irrational as the first. He could do nearly all of them if he wasn't smoking during the event or at the specified place.

As Vash continued his monologue, Wolfwood grew increasingly aware of the amount of smokers in the area. They were everywhere. He spotted some on the street, around corners, and in stores. Some were with families, some were single, some were talking and one was bent over tying his shoe. Were there always this many cigarettes out in the open? Or was it just more apparent to observe the lighters when the suns were down? The pounding in Wolfwood's head seemed to speed up as his feet moved faster. One of the smokers glared at him as they passed. Did he know what Wolfwood was doing? That he was a traitor to their kind?

Wolfwood felt relieved when they reached the outlaw's little house. Except for maybe the short insurance girl, he wouldn't have to worry about any condemning eyes. Vash was still rambling. Wolfwood hoped that inside he would get distracted from his list. However, he shouldn't get excited, the outlaw would probably be just as irritating inside the building as outside of it.

Enthusiastically, Vash opened the front door for Wolfwood. Wolfwood sluggishly entered.

Sweet smells drifted from the kitchen. None of them lifted Wolfwood's foreboding spirits. Life was going to be heck in this house. Vash took Wolfwood on a detour to the kitchen before showing him to his room so he could break the "good news" to the insurance girls.

"Wolfwood is moving in so we can keep an eye on his smoking habits!" He announced.

"Congratulations Mr. Priest!" Millie cried as if Vash had just announced Wolfwood was getting married. Then, without warning, she flung her arms around him. "I'm so happy for you!" She added.

The Priest couldn't bring himself to explain that the process of quitting hadn't even really begun, or that he probably would fail. He could smell delicious brownies on her and was feeling reluctant of ending the moment and bringing the big insurance girl back to reality. But if she was acting this way when he was only getting started, what would she be like once he was nicotine free?

Once Millie let go, Vash led the way out of the kitchen and into a narrow hall way.

"The room could probably use a little bit of cleaning," Vash said. "It was a guest room, but one of my good friends spent a lot of time in there."

He opened a door on the left side of the hall.

"Welcome to your new headquarters!" Vash announced.

Wolfwood stepped inside. A puff of dust rose from the dirty grey carpet to greet him.

"I'm living in this?"

"Yup!" Vash replied.

Wolfwood threw him a disgusted look. Everything was dirty. The bed was unmade, the curtains were faded to an ugly shade of puce, old rat-bitten papers were scattered on the desk, and all of it was covered in dust. Personally, he couldn't see how smoking could be much worse than inhaling excess dust particles. For all he knew, living dust mites could be traveling down his esophagus into his lungs this instant.

"… I'll look for the vacuum." Vash offered.

Wolfwood was about to point out that he would probably need several, and to bring in the insurance girls while he was at it, but he felt suddenly unstable and nauseated.

He put his bags down.