Ten Guns, Two Roses
Chapter 2 - Manipulation and Tears
Author's Notes: Excuse the shortness of this chapter. Not only was it written in a hurry, it was written while I had writer's block. So, I guess the point of this rant is… dun kill me for it not being up to par! Oh, and while I'm ranting… please check out this site - http://www.neoagent.net/trigun/

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"Christ," Wolfwood muttered, as he reached into his blazer's pocket and withdrew a cigarette. Staring down at the corpse of Kaine the Longshot - who had neatly shot himself in the head when the dark-haired priest had gotten close - Nick wondered how his partner had faired against his uncle.

* I'm sure he did fine, * he told himself, as he popped the cancer stick he had found into his mouth and lit it. * After all, he's not me. If I woulda gone up against Chapel... * The though trailed off into mental silence as the priest refused to consider what would have happened. Or at least tried to refuse... but it didn't work. Nick knew that if he had faced his uncle, he would have been dead, or perhaps worse... after all, he had never been as fast or as strong as Chapel.

A small frown coming to his lips, Wolfwood returned to the Jeep he had 'borrowed' and taken out to the desert in search of the Gung-Ho Gun who had been shooting at them. A moment of relative silence passed as the priest examined the patterns Kaine's gun had drawn in the side of the desert vehicle. Then, deeming the Jeep safe to drive, the dark-haired male slipped behind the wheel and sped back to town, stopping only when he had made it to the bar he had left Vash in.

Hopping out the car as easily as he had gotten into it, Nick entered the bar, and immediately noticed something was wrong. Ok, so it was really a 'noticing something was wrong' it was more a 'Nicholas D. Wolfwood gut feeling'... but none the less, something wasn't right. Peering into the gloom that was the empty bar, the priest's hands flew to the Cross Punisher. He wasn't about to use it just yet... but just in case.

"Tongari?" Wolfwood called into the gloom.

"Tongari?" a voice that was unmistakably Legato's echoed. "You'd gotten close enough to Vash the Stampede to make fun of his hair style?"

Fighting down the urge to whip his cross-shaped weapon, Wolfwood tried to act coolly. Legato probably didn't know that he couldn't bring himself to kill Vash, and he could play that off if he acted correctly. "Isn't it always a good idea to get close to one's victims?" the priest asked, the cigarette between his lips almost falling from its perch as he spoke. "Then they never know what hits 'em."

"Interesting," the blue-haired male replied coolly, stepping out of the darkness and into the partial light that streamed into the forgotten bar through the doors. "I suppose since your tactic worked well, I can't fault it."

* Worked well? The hell is he talking about? * Wolfwood silently demanded to no one.

And as if reading his thoughts - perhaps he was - Legato replied, "Didn't you know? Since you 'got close' to Vash, and failed to tell him you were a member of the Gung-Ho Guns, Chapel was able to surprise Vash and kill him." Folding his arms in front of him, a smile found its way to the telepath's face. "The Master is most pleased."

"Pleased?" the priest asked vacantly. He had heard Legato, but any semblance of comprehension had faded like dew in the morning's first rays when the blue-haired male had told him Vash had been killed. It couldn't be true, it couldn't! Vash wouldn't allow himself to be killed so easily. But despite all the denying Wolfwood tried to do, what Legato showed him next said it all.

"Yes, very pleased. In fact, He left you a gift to show His gratitude." Not waiting for a response from the black-clad man, the telepath reached back into the gloom of the bar, and returned with Vash's arm. Thrusting it in Wolfwood's direction, Legato bit back a malicious smile. Yes, Knives had ordered him to give the other Angel Arm to Wolfwood... and yes, it was a dangerous move, should the priest ever realize the significance of the limb. But Knives had told the telepath that neither would happen, because Nick would break first at the thought of having to carry a piece of his friend around with him.

In the moment he saw the arm, Wolfwood almost did. Not only had it been confirmed that his friend was dead in the most brutal of ways possible, but now he had to carry around a constant reminder? It was enough to make the priest sick.

Noting Wolfwood's sickly color, and the waves of melancholy emotions that flowed freely from him, Legato continued to grin. "Take it," the telepath hissed. And despite his body's protests, the blue-haired male forced Wolfwood to wrap his hands around the severed limb. "Good. Now, I will be in touch with you for your payment shortly." Pushing past the priest, Legato allowed himself to be far gone before he relinquished control of the Wolfwood's body.

And as his body came back into his own control, Nick found himself doing two things he didn't think was possible in his case. He cried, clutching Vash's severed limb to his chest, and he swore to whatever Gods were listening that he would get revenge on Knives Millions. Even if it cost his own life.