Ok, Wouldn'tchaliketakno!! Yes. I would like to know. And I'm not posting the next chapter until you tell me. Because I am Author Lady, who is pissy and evil like that. So spill.


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Kiley relaxed. "Oh. Good."

He glared at her. "No, it's not good. Vash and I did not part on good terms. Technically," he paused for a moment while she looked at him, a bit shocked. "I'm not supposed to have left my ship," he finished up.

She looked at him for a moment, wondering why he hadn't felt the need to share this bit of information. "How much are you not supposed to have left?" she asked dryly.

"Things may get dicey."

She nodded, then turned to Ace. "You. Up there," she ordered, pointing to a spire on the side of the oasis farthest from December. Ace shook her head mulishly. Kiley's gaze grew cold. "No argument." She walked a few steps towards the girl, who began to back up.

"Don't wanna."

"Does it look like your wants are the most important things we're dealing with here?"

"Wanna see Vash."

"I'm sure you will. From up there to begin with, and after he and Knives sort things out, you can come back down and meet him. These two tend to settle problems with bullets, and I'm not letting you get hit by a stray shot or ricochet."

Ace still looked ready to argue, but was stopped cold when Knives told her to go. Sighing, and looking very put out, she began to climb. Slowly. After seeing her begin, Kiley walked over to her pack and pulled out some extra ammunition.

"Are these safe?" she asked, shooting Knives a loaded look.

He nodded absently, still looking out towards where his brother was.

"You're sure? I wouldn't want any more accidents," she prodded.

"I said they're fine, woman!" he snarled, turning at her and glaring. She merely looked at him calmly, one hand resting on an unopened box.

"Sorry," he mumbled, before turning back to stare into the desert.

Kiley knew her face must reflect her shock. An apology? He must be more nervous then he was letting on. She stifled a grin as she loaded her pockets with bullets.

Suddenly, he shook his head and went to grab his gun. She watched him as his actions mirrored hers, then saw him pause and rest his forehead on the barrel of his gun. His eyes closed and his shoulders tensed as he took a few deep breaths.

When his eyes opened again they held a glint of humor. "So, what shall we do to pass the time until my brother arrives?"

"Well, we don't have any wine."

"Pity."

"One should always enjoy the finer things life has to offer before a duel?"

"Especially when you aren't sure that you'll see the after," he affirmed, nodding.

"So… wanna play a hand of cards?"

"Against you? You cheat."

She smiled. "You can deal."

"You'll still cheat," he said, but walked over to Ace's discarded deck. The sound of a raspberry echoed down from the top of a spire. Kiley grinned and met him there. He shuffled the deck, looking her in the eye.

"No tricks, now," he cautioned as he began to deal.

"Me?" she responded, all wounded innocence and affronted dignity.

"You act innocent, but play like a devil."

"I play to win. Whatever it takes," she responded as she arranged her cards in her hand.

She pulled a face at her hand. Nothing. Not even a face card. Not even a hope of a flush or a straight. Nothing.

She pulled three cards at random and tossed them down. Knives fanned the first three off the deck and passed them over. Kiley held her face still. Two pair, nines high. Worth something. Then a thought occurred.

"What exactly are we betting?"

"How about a story? I win, you spill, you win, I'll say something."

"Deal." She grinned, then showed her cards. He looked at them, then slowly turned his hand around. Flush. Damn.

Kiley grimaced, but conceded the loss.

"So," she sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Knives leaned back and thought for a moment. "Why do you go by Kiley?"

She blinked, then snorted. "That's it?" Her tone implied that she felt she was getting off easily. She closed her eyes a second, then bit her lip. "Well, in part it's due to superstition. Back where I come from, you get named, then get a nickname, so no one can steal your soul. So I've always had a nickname. Kiley, though, that's a fun one. When I first joined the Parameds, there was a guy, Jiorje. He didn't speak English as his first language, and his grasp on certain words was further twisted by a really thick accent. The story goes, he saw me walking around in my first couple weeks, and after I had left the room one time he said, 'Thet leddie, she a kiley.' What he was trying to say was that I was a killer. What came out was my new nickname."

"So basically, you have people call you killer?"

She shrugged. "It's a good way to keep me from forgetting."

"That's… somewhat sick."

"You think you have the corner on the market?"

He shrugged, then his eyes drifted out across the desert again.

"Worried?" she asked softly.

"Concerned. I don't know that he's in a very good mood at the moment."

"I'm sure things will work out."

"That's being a bit optimistic."

Kiley bit her tongue. If she had to, she'd make sure things worked out. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to put her newly discovered plan into action. She stood and stretched, then walked over to the spire Ace was imprisoned on. She leaned against it, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes for a moment, seeking peace among the tension. When she found it, she opened her eyes again, ready for what was to come.

Knives was standing near the center of the oasis, one hand at his side and the other resting on the butt of his gun. She could see by the tensing of his shoulders that she had missed Vash's emergence. Lazily, she turned her gaze to the desert beyond.

He was coming now.