Knives was mentally going over the various techniques he planned to employ during the rescue. He was a little uncomfortable with the idea of knocking people unconscious using Kiley's tricks. It wasn't so much the ethical ramifications as it was he was regretting his lack of practice. Really, your family will only take being put to sleep so many times before they refuse to be a test subject. He knew the theory, and knew it well, but it was still mostly theory. He didn't know his limits, didn't know how many people he could knock out at once. He was rather relieved that Vash was going in with him to back him up, but would never have implied that such a thing was possible. Even if his brother did have a complex when it came to harming the guilty, he would be useful if there were more humans there than Knives could easily handle.

His fingers twitched slightly as he counted off the steps he would need to take within their minds to knock them out. The front passenger side door opened, and he assumed that it was his brother, finally done consorting with the humans. "Are we ready to go?" he asked, not moving.

"Go where?" asked that annoyingly quiet voice.

He took his arm off his eyes and sat up again. "Why are you back?" he asked with a glare.

She held out a glass of water to him. "I thought you might be thirsty," she explained.

Knives looked at her, at the water, and at her again. With a sigh, he grabbed the glass, guzzled the liquid, and handed it back to her. "Now will you leave?"

"You're welcome." She smiled at him, but made no move to go.

"I'm what?" He was beginning to wonder if the child was touched in the head.

"Miss Millie says that even if someone doesn't say thank you, you should always say you're welcome, anyway. Just because someone else isn't polite is no reason for you to be." Her voice fell into that woman's cadences, and Knives sighed again.

"Thank you," he said, growling out the words. "Now, will you go away and not come back?"

The irritating girl didn't respond, but readopted her pose of chin on hands and began staring at him again.

He refused to acknowledge how much she was beginning to piss him off, but settled back down with the thought that killing her would not be worth the trouble or the satisfaction.

"What should I study?" she asked after a few moments.

"Anything that gets you away from me."

"Oh. So… how about gardening? I could study that."

"If you like."

"Or… how about reading stories? I like stories."

"Fiction rots your mind and makes you weak."

"Oh. Well, I could read history…"

"Doctored tales of the lives of small men hold no interest to a superior being," he said, then snarled at the stumble.

"Oh. Um… what do you read, then?"

"Nothing you would understand."

"Ok. Then what should I read?"

"Whatever brings happiness to your small and miserable life, I suppose. Are you going to leave?" He peeked out from behind his arm to glare at her, and she was laughing at him!

"What?" he asked peevishly.

"You're funny. My life isn't small. It's as big as I am!"

He looked around her, to her left and to her right, his eyes showing just how large he found her.

"Which isn't as big as you are, I guess," she said a bit more soberly. "But I'm working on getting bigger."

"Wonderful. Go work somewhere else."

"Do you not like me?" she asked, sitting back on the edge of the seat and cocking her head at him, chin set at an imperious angle.

"I hate you."

"Why?"

"Because you are a worthless use of resources better utilized elsewhere."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because your life will never amount to anything more than having more worthless children to clutter up this planet."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because there is nothing special about you, other than the fact you are ill and obviously stupid enough to tempt your fate by getting on my nerves."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Now, leave. I have better things to do than waste my time talking to a child."

Her face crumpled, but Knives merely settled back down, again, and covered his eyes with his arm. After a minute she quietly opened the door and left.

He tried to get back to thinking about what he was going to do in a few hours, but his concentration was shot, his irritation keeping him from focusing. He kept waiting for that girl to come back, and finally gave up trying to do anything useful with his time.

When he sat up, he noticed that the first sun had already set, the light dimming to dusk. It was time to go, anyway, but Vash still hadn't left that woman's house. With a sigh, he opened the car door and got out. He took a moment to stretch and move about, using his muscles just to remember how it felt to ambulate. Then he strode purposefully to the woman's porch, jumping the few steps to the deck and taking only one long step to reach the door.

He opened the door and allowed his body to fill the frame, but didn't venture inside. The frivolity that had greeted his ears, the laughter and jokes all stopped as they realized he had arrived. He scowled, then, annoyed that they were having fun while he was left behind. And that they felt like now was a time to be happy. They could die, tonight, and they were laughing. The fools.

"It's time to go, Vash," he said, his gaze ignoring everyone else in the room. His brother nodded and slowly stood, but Knives had already turned to go. He didn't need to watch the goodbyes, and had none to say himself.