Desert Discord
So Vash and Nicholas are out on the road together, now it's just a matter of determining how long it'll be until they run into trouble.
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood tossed his bags on the back of his beloved cycle with casual care and pushed his shades up to look back at his needle noggin-ed companion. "Ready when you are Vash!"
Vash dragged his duffle over his shoulder easily and started towards the priest, hesitation claiming him for a moment as he looked back at Grandma and Lena's house. The times he had experience there were not only good ones, but plentiful, something that had been lacking in his life for the past 30 years. However, as much as he longed to stay and live it up as the town idiot, he knew that his dreaded title as the Human Typhoon wouldn't escape him for long. Wolfwood's arrival in town had assured him of that.
"C'mon, c'mon! I'd like to get to town sometime before midnight!" Wolfwood called.
Vash laughed and waved off Wolfwood's complaints as he made his way over to the bike, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He slung his belongings onto the back of Angelina II and gave her a dubious appraisal. "You sure this thing can even get us there at all?"
Wolfwood looked over his shoulder and flicked his cigarette onto the ground, "It got me here, didn't it? Relax, my Angelina can get us anywhere."
Vash shrugged and slid on behind Wolfwood. He really had his doubts about the so-called sacred cycle, while parts of it sparkled in the suns' rays, others looked as if they'd taken a beating from sandstorms and wild bullets. But he wasn't about to risk Wolfwood's wrath by verbalizing any more of these doubts. Besides, maybe luck would be on their side and they'd make it without a hitch.
Yeah, right.
Wolfwood flipped his shades down gunned the bike of onto the desert road, the hot wind biting against his face. As much as he grudgingly enjoyed Vash's company and was strangely relieved to have him at his side again he couldn't escape the nagging twinge of guilt in the back of his head. They were headed to Kansas, he hadn't given Vash any details. He couldn't, of course.
Vash leaned forward to speak into Wolfwood's ear, the priest startling out of his thoughts at the sudden closeness. "So, Nicholas, just where are we headed that we gotta leave in such a hurry, huh?"
Wolfwood threw his shoulders up in a shrug, "You'll find out, just relax and trust me." He could feel his insides tense and his eyes instinctively hardened behind his sunglasses to mask the rising guilt. Vash was oblivious to the suddenly frosty expression and sat back with a doltish grin.
"Alright, then! I'm all yours, Nicholas. I just hope there is a bakery or something along the way, I'm starved."
Wolfwood had to laugh, "I swear, that's about all you ever think about."
Vash blinked innocently, "What's wrong with that? A guy's gotta sustain himself if he wants to have enough energy to keep up with the ladies."
"Yeah, yeah, but it doesn't seem to be helping you much, " Wolfwood teased lightly. "Anyhow, yeah, I'll make sure we stop and look for one when we get to the nearest town. It might not be for a while though."
"Aw, man," Vash could feel his stomach rumbling already. "I should've grabbed something before we left, at this rate I'll wither up in no time." He dropped his forehead dramatically on Wolfwood's shoulder and whimpered.
Wolfwood sighed and glanced at the spiky blond locks poking in his peripheral vision. Vash could be such a drama queen, a goofy sort of one anyhow. He checked his pockets briefly with one hand and came up with one of his ration bars. "Here, see if this will hold you over."
Without a pause he snagged the bar and ripped the wrapper off, chowing down with a vengeance. Wolfwood spied Vash's adoring smile in the mirror of his sunglasses and couldn't help twisting a smile of his own. He was like a kid, Vash was. The simplest pleasure was the greatest, and still he could probably shoot the head of a ceramic yard gnome from 30 yards away with his back to the target.
"Thanks," Vash finally popped out after swallowing the last of the bar.
"Eh, it beats listening to you whining the whole way," Wolfwood's voice contained a gently teasing tone.
"Someone's gotta make up for the lack of conversation," Vash grinned.
"True, sorry, I've got a lot on my mind. But you realize this isn't going to be a walk in the park." "You're the one who told me to relax and not worry. Maybe you should take some of your own advice, huh?"
"Maybe, but I'll be the first to admit that keeping you out of trouble is about as difficult as trying to pry a donut from your hands," Nick looked over his shoulder with a half-smile, which faded vaguely once he saw Vash's thoughtful frown.
"Yeah, I know," Vash's voice was quiet. He couldn't deny that trouble stuck to him like glue and it was typically more of an inconvenience to others than himself. After all, it was perfectly alright for him to be inconvenienced and hunted down, it was another matter when his friends were forced to be involved.
"Hey, cheer up. So far so good, right?" He gave Vash a reassuring grin over his shoulder. "Tough doesn't necessarily mean impossible, you of all people should know that."
Vash lit back up instantly, "Of course not. After all, traveling with a preacher has gotta give a guy some leverage in the luck department, huh? Not that I've seen much evidence of this." He grinned jovially.
Wolfwood feigned irritation and gave a harrumph. "That's not a very smart thing to say when you're this far out from town. I could boot your ungrateful arse right off my Angelina."
"Aw, but then who would you have to keep you company when she broke down?" Vash laughed goofily.
"You mean who would I have to drink all my water?" he gave a grin.
"You drank mine first..."
"Well, I had an excuse. I kind of had to hoof it threw the desert for God knows how long."
"Excuses. Perhaps if you took better care of your bike," he patted the side of Angelina, "you wouldn't have been marooned in the middle of the desert."
Wolfwood moved his arm back to gently elbow Vash, "Don't dis my bike, dammit."
"Ow, hey. I didn't!"
"Yes, yes you were," Wolfwood gave another harrumph.
"I never said it was the bike's fault, just yours."
Wolfwood rolled his eyes, "Right, like I just waved my magic wand and said, 'break down, break down, break down'." As if the sick humour of the gods above had taken over, Angelina's motor sputtered ominously.
