Enjoy

I do not own Trigun

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As usual, Vash was quite popular with the entire ranch. All of the hired hands liked him immediately and took no time in engaging him in a drinking contest. Both Ms. Cathrine and Miss Trisha were quite taken with him, though Miss Trisha was more blatantly obvious about it. Secretly, I was quite relieved and hoped her crush on me would completely shift to a crush on Vash. Miss Jo didn't seem to care that he was there one way or another.

Vash still was unable to make himself call me Ben, but since I had given him dire warnings about calling me Knives even accidentally in front of the others, he just called me Bro. Which was fine with me.

After dinner, I went out to the stables to finish the chores I hadn't got done when Vash had arrived. Happy made a pleased grumbling sound when he saw me approaching with the grooming supplies. I have never met a thomas that enjoyed being groomed more than Happy did.

I went to work, running the brush over Happy's broad, furry sides. I could hear laugher and shouts filtering down from the house and the occasional pleased grunt from Happy when I hit an itchy spot. I worked mechanically, lost in my own thoughts. It wasn't until I started cleaning the bone plate covering Happy's head that I realized I wasn't alone.

Miss Jo was in Bertha's stall leaning her head against the thomas's side. I stopped what I was doing for a moment to make sure she was all right. When I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary, I mentally shrugged and went back to work. Taking a soft cloth, I began carefully cleaning around Happy's eyes, but listening intently for any indication that something was wrong elsewhere in the stable.

"Do you want to go for a ride?"

I peered around Happy's head, hoof-pick in hand. Miss Jo was standing in front of the stall, holding Bertha's reigns. I considered this for a few moments. Stay off a thomas and be alone, or ride a thomas and maybe get to the bottom of the whole Milner deal. It was a tough call.

"Sure," I finally shrugged, dropping the hoof-pick in a leather tool bag. "Just give me a minute to saddle up."

Miss Jo nodded and led Berta outside to wait. While I saddled Happy, I gave him a stern lecture of what he was not to do. This included making "blat" noises, sitting down, rolling over, and being generally disobedient. If he did what I told him to do exactly when I told him to do it, we'd get along just fine. Happy fixed me with a baleful stare and tried to step on my foot.

I scowled darkly at him and tugged him out of the stable and into the compound. Miss Jo was waiting for me, already mounted, her black ponytail bouncing as Berta shifted impatiently. I quickly mounted Happy and settled comfortably into the saddle. When she saw I was ready, Miss Jo wheeled Berta around and galloped off into the desert night. After a moments nudging, Happy and I followed.

We rode for quite a while in a comfortable silence, alternating between galloping and trotting. Miss Jo didn't seem to want to talk, and I was happy just to feel the cool wind hitting my face. It felt cleansing somehow.

Finally we slowed the thomases to a walk. Respectfully, I made sure that I was slightly behind Miss Jo, just close enough to be within earshot without raising ones voice.

"So," said Miss Jo after a while. "You didn't seem really happy to see your brother this afternoon."

"Well I certainly wasn't expecting to see him," I said flatly. "And there has been some difficulties between the two of us in the past. I suppose, overall, I am glad to see him in a way," I added grudgingly.

Miss Jo dropped back next to me.

"You two certainly look like brothers, even if your personalities are completely different," she said thoughtfully. I shrugged.

"We're twins, but our philosophies on life differ."

Miss Jo looked at me carefully.

"May I ask you a personal question, Ben?"

I shifted uneasily in the saddle, knowing what she was going to ask.

"It depends, Ma'am," I replied slowly.

"What sort of difficulties? It's difficult to imagine Vash arguing with anyone."

"You haven't seen him defend donuts," I replied, suppressing a smile. We were quiet for a moment as I thought. Finally, I sighed.

"Our views on other people were too different. We couldn't agree and for a long time, it created distance between us."

Mis Jo cocked her head, thinking over what I just said. After a moment she nodded her head.

"I understand."

I shrugged and settled back into the saddle, relieved that she wasn't going to push the subject. I didn't really want to go into the whole genocide thing.

We stopped briefly at the top of a hill. The desert was bathed in pale, silvery moonlight. An occasional puff of sand would appear, pushed by the wind, and then disappear again. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, savoring the cool, sweet-smelling air. When I opened my eyes, Miss Jo was watching me thoughtfully. I blinked and then smiled slightly, almost sheepishly.

"I like the way night air smells," I explained, scratching my cheek.

Something flickered across her face.

"Me too. It makes me feel peaceful."

I noticed Happy was edging closer to Berta and was about to pull him away when Miss Jo spoke again.

"You're different from most people, Ben… Your eyes speak of things that most people haven't seen… Almost like an old man in a young man's body…"

I opted to stay silent and wrestled Happy away from the two females. I wasn't about to say to Miss Jo that I was 130-something years old so I better have old-looking eyes and was that a compliment or not.

She shrugged slightly and turned Berta in the direction of the ranch.

"And Ben?"

I looked at her.

"I think you'll win tomorrow."

And she was gone in a cloud of kicked-up sand.

--

"You're back late."

I had just walked into the bunkhouse. Vash was sprawled across my bed, a rather smug expression across his face. I felt myself scowl.

"Get off my bed, Vash. You're drunk and I'm not going to have you heaving over my pillows. They smell funny enough as is."

Vash stuck his tongue out at me in a perfectly impudent manner and stood up, swaying slightly. I eyed him with distaste as I took off my jacket and hat.

"I'm probably the only man here who won't have a hang-over tomorrow, aren't I?"

Vash shrugged and slumped into a chair.

"What's this that I heard 'bout you and a contest tomorrow?" he asked, blinking his eyes rather owlishly.

I hung my jacket on a peg and took a quick look down the row of beds. All the other men were sprawled in their beds in various uncomfortable-looking positions, snoring uproariously.

"I have a shooting contest tomorrow," I said flatly.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," replied Vash. "When, where, why, and who, Bro."

"Technically it's 'with whom.' "

"Don't d-dodge the question," yawned Vash.

I sat down heavily on my bed.

"Tomorrow, noon, about two iles from here with Kinnes Milner. Because he challenged me and I want to."

"You aren't going to kill him are you?" Vash blinked worridly at me.

I scowled at him and lay down.

"Bro! Don't kill him!"

I threw a pillow in his face.

"Shut up and go to sleep, Vash."