Thanks for the reviews! Too tired right now to comment on them... Next time though, I will thank each and everyone of you personally, I promise!

Also, I didn't read through this too well. Sorry if there are errors.

~~~~~

Stormie woke up snuggled down deep into the covers and curled into herself, although Naoshi had obviously tried to hold on to her with a gentle embrace, his arms draped around gently over her back, body bent around her. Tears had dried on her cheeks, and she felt a sore, drained mess, wincing as her bruises and tense muscles screamed in protest.

"Hn, up?" a groggy voice, rising from Naoshi's general direction, questioned her.

She rubbed at her face, grumbling out a reply that even she didn't understand. With her back to him, she flung her legs over the side of the back and let her feet thud on the floor, wincing as jolts of pain followed the impact. Then, as she hunched over, she felt the bed shift and knew he was moving about to.

Strong hands descended lightly on her shoulders, gripping and rubbing them, almost comfortingly, lovingly. "Are you ok?" he murmured.

"I don't think so," she sighed. Why did his massaging her upper arms make her feel so limp? Probably because no one else had ever done this for her before. In fact, no one had ever said they loved her, or that they'd give something up and change for her. No one was ever there...

She winced as the faces of past boyfriends slid across her mental eye. She'd been so desperate after Faith was born, searching doggedly for a father for her little girl. At first she had thought she could not raise a child on her own, so a husband was the way to go. Shakily, a hand raised to touch her cheek as she remembered the boyfriend that had beat her more than a few times. She'd had to actually move away to escape that one.

She'd hated herself for being so stupid after that. She still did.

She stood up and turned to face Naoshi, who soon followed suit and rose also. He towered above her, making her feel a bit helpless. He was perhaps a smidgen taller than Knives. "Breakfast?" she yawned, covering her mouth with a hand. It was funny, trying to pretend she wasn't sick to her stomach.

"Kitchen," he replied, motioning for her to follow. "What would you like?"

"French toast." The demand was quite indignant, as if she was daring him to tell her no.

His reply was eager. "Alright. I'll make it for you then." He seemed to be trying to treat her extra nice, like he was on best behavior or something. Every time their eyes met a nervous smile bloomed on his face and he trembled visibly. Surprised, Stormie touched his shoulder, felt him flinch away.

"Hey," she said quietly, "you've completely changed. It's too weird for words."

"I told you I would," he snorted, and then moved away. "Oh, wait. Before breakfast, I want you to do me a favor." When she didn't answer, he said hurriedly, "Don't worry - it's an easy one. You see, the plant assassin vowed to not cut his hair until every last plant was dead. Now that he's the one who's gone away, I want you to help me hack it all off."

Stormie tried not to laugh. She was afraid to comment for fear of saying something about how utterly hilarious that seemed to her, so she said nothing. Just smiled and accepted the scissors and took him outside. As he knelt in the sand, she stood behind him, fingering his long white hair and thinking to herself, 'I could kill him now. Drive the scissors into his neck and watch him bleed to death. It'd be easy.' But she didn't hurt him, merely began to snip here and there until she found herself trying to fashion his hair into the cut that Knives always wore. It didn't really shock her, but she found herself turning over a new idea. 'I want Naoshi to be like Knives, because that is who I can never have, but have always wanted... They really are similar.'

And they were.

Naoshi was prone to a quick temper and had such a strong, obsessive love for his family, just as Knives did, and both had hard times admitting their feelings as well as controlling them. However, those were just the darker points, and just likes Knives, Naoshi had things about him that made him appealing in many ways. He was generous and gentle and very passionate. When he gave someone his trust, he gave it all, and if he felt something to be his responsibility, he took care of it. Just like Knives.

But it was wrong to want that, and she couldn't let herself fall into that trap. It was easy to be selfish and dumb, and to love Naoshi simply because he loved her and faintly resembled another man she was always pining over. It was hard to actually tell herself she was living in a fantasy and best be waking, as well as to come to the conclusion that she had wasted so much time on men. She didn't need one. She'd done so well without one all these years, and now, she was going to accept it and embrace it and be happy.

She COULD be strong, and that is what she now wanted.

Stormie moved around to kneel in front of Naoshi, who had remained silent. They sat there, face to face, although he was afraid to so much as twitch as she continued to snip at his bangs. "Do you have any gel?" she finally asked.

Something uncomfortable arose in his eyes, and he squirmed a little. "Billy left some."

Ah, Billy. Stormie felt a twinge of embarrassment for simply thinking of the girl. She'd considered the woman an idiot for falling for the plant assassin. Could she really put herself in the same category?

"We'll go get it," she said softly, brushing the stray strands of hair from his shoulders. His long, thick tresses now lay pale and coiled in the sand, while she ran her fingers testingly through his new hairdo, thinking the scruffy, shortness of it all, the way it ran through her fingers much easier than before, sticking up here and there, made him look a lot younger, if not cuter.

Naoshi watched in the mirror as she squirted a small amount of the cool, clear gel into her palm and then rubbed it onto his head, raking her hand through to get the short spikes to stand. "Hmm," he said dully, eyes flicking over in her direction. "Thanks. Looks nice."

She shrugged and turned to walk away, but his voice stopped her.

"You know," he said, closing the medicine cabinet after depositing the tube of hair product inside, "I don't mind too much if you make me into a replacement for him."

He had noticed. She knew at that moment that she really should tell him that she could never replace HIM and that she had no intention of ever even trying, so his chances with her were basically nonexistent. But how would he react? That's what she feared most. What if he tried to take her by force again? "For Knives, you mean?" she asked weakly, trying to sound casual even as waves of guilt washed over her.

"Yes." He smiled slightly. "Knives."

~~~~~

Billy had dropped by for a visit with her mother and son, coming once again to thank Grayfall and Oriole and Bailey for saving her. She was surprised at the tension in the household, at the way no one seemed to be speaking to each other. While Meryl went outside to sit on the porch swing with Vash, she timidly sought out the petite, blonde woman and drew her aside. "Bailey," she asked quietly, "is everything alright?"

Immediately, the girl burst into tears, covering her face with her hands as giant sobs racked her small body. "It's all my fault," she whispered shakily. "Everybody hates me and it's all my fault..."

Billy comfortingly touched her friend's shoulder. "What happened here?"

Through all her tears, Bailey managed to relate the story, pain raw in her voice. "Mitayo was...an old friend of mine...and we sorta kissed...and Stormie, his girlfriend, got very upset... She ran away...and we can't find her...and everyone is so upset! Knives hates me! Her child hates me! Even...even my son hates me!"

"Hold up, you have a son?"

"Eleven - I mean, Xavier - is my son...with Mitayo... He didn't think I was coming back... No one did." Bailey looked at her from watery, gray eyes. "I feel like such an intruder in this house... Everyone hates me. Even Mitayo barely speaks to me..."

Billy bit her lip. "Would you like to come home with me? I mean, we have room, and mom wouldn't mind..."

A powder blue sleeve wiped slowly across her eyes as Bailey considered the offer. "I don't know," she finally sighed. "That might be for best... But at the same time, can I really leave Mitayo and Xavier?"

Billy shrugged. "I guess they could come too..." Her face brightened unexpectedly. "I got an offer on a big apartment out in town, but I was scared to stay there alone with Vincent and the new baby on the way, so I turned it down! If you and Mitayo and Xavier move in, I would feel more comfortable and even if it would be a little cramped, it could work!"

Bailey fell silent, and as if on cue, Mitayo appeared by her side from around the corner, standing grim and silent with his hand on her shoulder. "What's going on?" he asked, an almost suspicious eye landing on Billy.

"Billy was offering us a place to stay," Bailey explained quietly, patiently. "Would you want to move out of here?"

His hand tightened noticeably on her arm, indenting the cloth of her shirt. "We don't have any money."

"Are you willing to get a job?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "But what am I qualified for? I've spent my whole life in a plant."

"You could work for my dad's company. Um, it's nothing glamorous." She shrugged. "But we need a gardener and a janitor. You're a plant - you make things grow, right?"

"Never tried." Seeing her surprised look, he hurriedly continued, "But I'll give it a shot!"

Bailey gave a fickle little smile as he released her from his tight grasp, carefully seeking out his hand and clasping it in her own two. "So, we're moving then? You and me and Xavier? We can...be a family?"

"No!"

Mitayo's eyes widened at the rebellious voice, his head slowly turning to look at his son, who stood just behind him, glaring at all present. The boy's long hair had been tied back in a straight fall at his neck, and he was wearing the black T-shirt and baggy khakis that Stormie had bought him on a trip to town. Everything about him spoke of defiance, and although Mitayo tried to tell himself that Faith was most likely brain washing him, he knew deep down in his heart that the boy felt more allegiance to Stormie then he did to his own two parents.

Hn. Some parent he had been!

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" he cried. "I wanna stay here! With Faith and Vash! You can't make me leave - you just can't make me!"

Bailey reached out a hand as if to touch him, and the boy shied away, turning and fleeing back into Faith's room, the door slamming behind him. Instantly, tears were developing in the girl's eyes and she turned back to bury her head in Mitayo's chest, wanting to cry but now having the energy anymore. She just stood there, leaning into him, breathing quietly and softly into the stifling heat of his shirt. Mitayo was saying something about forcing him to come with them, but she only shook her head, heaving a sigh. "No, let him be," she murmured.

"But, Bailey, we just can't -"

"Mitayo, let it go... We've done enough damage already."

Billy, at that time, felt like an intruder on the discussion and decided to seek out her mother and son. She found both outside with Vash, Vincent playing in the sand while the two adults peacefully talked. Vash was sitting on the railing, and Meryl had stretched out in the hammock. Billy, wanting to join, sat down on the porch swing and quietly interrupted with a question. "Where did Stormie go to?"

Vash turned to look at her, green eyes laced with worry. His hand raked through blonde hair nervously, and a fretful expression fought it's way to surface on his face. "We don't know," he answered in a strained voice. "Knives and Grayfall have looked everywhere and Oriole has been all over town asking if anyone has seen her."

"How did it happen?"

"She went to go visit Desma, her friend that lives about half an hour from here. She took Mitayo and Bailey with her and let them wait in the car while she went into the underbrush to get to his house. When she didn't come back, they went looking for her, and found the house in complete disarray with bodies strewn everywhere. They must've attacked Stormie, and from what we can guess, when she went back to the jeep, she saw something she shouldn't have..."

"Mitayo and Bailey kissing."

Vash bit his lower lip, glancing away. "Yes. They found some blood in the sand heading towards here, and knowing that girl, she was outraged and decided to walk home." The blonde man heaved himself off the railing and scratched the back of his head, looking first at Meryl and then Billy in uncertainty. "Something must've happened to her on the way, because she never made it back."

Meryl looked taken back. "Do you think someone kidnapped her?" she asked with a hint of concern.

Vash's broad shoulders helplessly rose in a shrug. "That's what seems to be the most obvious, but who would do it?"

The past insurance girl rocked the hammock back as she leaned forward, slowly standing up. Vash didn't understand the worry on her face until he noticed that her gaze rested on Billy, who had cast her eyes down. The mother quickly hurried to her daughter's side and put her arm around her as she started trembling, one of her delicate hands resting on the gauze taped to the side of her forehead.

"Billy?" Vash was afraid to move. "What's wrong? Does your wound hurt?"

A slight shake of head confirmed he was wrong. "No," she whispered. "It's just...I didn't think he'd do something like this."

"Who?"

"Naoshi."

The name froze Vash in horror. He opened his mouth to question her, but only a harsh breath escaped him.

Billy looked up with a pained expression. "Get Grayfall and Knives out here - I don't want to repeat this story again. And once they hear it, I have the feeling they'll want to leave right away."

~~~~~

Stormie paused in the doorway of the kitchen, staring out into the living room and at the form of Naoshi sitting on the couch in the dark. He had curled himself up there, his knees hugged to his chest with chin resting gently there. He looked completely desolate.

She picked up her glass of water and sandwich and headed out to join him, not even bothering to flick on the light switch. Situated on the chair opposite him, her plate of food in her lap and glass on the arm of the furniture, she sat in the dark, staring at the man whose relationship with her was not quite clear. She didn't love him. She was beginning to doubt she'd ever get over Knives, but just because she didn't feel so strongly towards him didn't mean she wasn't a little attracted... He was tender and giving and very devoted, it seemed.

She sighed.

WHAT THE HECK?! Had the haircut totally brainwashed her?! This was the man who had beat up poor Xavier! There was NO excuse for that! Nevertheless, playing nice was probably going to be her best bet for getting home. Yes, home. That was her goal. She had to get home.

"So, why such a glum look?" she asked him, and he cast weighted eyes in her direction. His eerie silence startled her. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," was his almost inaudible reply, voice thick. Slowly, he uncurled himself and stretched out on the couch, eyes half shut in what seemed to be depression. He had dressed in his black sweatpants and a T- shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Long, dark streaks, scars it seemed, peeked out from the cloth and ran over his shoulders, and for the first time, Stormie realized that more damage had been laid upon the plant assassin than she had ever imagined.

But, she reasoned, that's what you get for killing people.

"Are you coming down with something?" she asked curiously.

"My head feels hot. Maybe I'm getting what you had."

"You should go to bed then."

Naoshi glanced over at her and smiled slightly, and she didn't know quite what to make of the gesture. He was very obviously ill, a shiver coursing down his body every now and then. "I could've killed him, you know," he commented, coughing soon after.

"What?"

"Knives. I fought him once and he lost miserably. I could've killed him."

Stormie gripped her glass of water tightly, bringing it to her lips but not drinking. "Why didn't you then?"

"Because he was there to defend you, and, and," he muttered, hugging his arms tight to his chest and closing his eyes, "I spared him because I knew you cared about him."

Stormie said nothing.

Naoshi sighed shakily, mumbling, "I watched you real close when you were raising Faith... Always from afar..." A weak smile curled his lips. "Heck, I watched you even before that. When you were living with my sister, I'd sit in the tree outside your window and watch you write letters to someone and then just crumple them up and throw them away. I watched you when you sat in front of the TV with a bowl of ice cream and cursed at me under your breath. I watched and watched with such a...a fascination as your stomach got bigger and the unborn baby grew.... And still you talked every day to Oriole, telling her of your avid dislike of me."

She chewed a bite of her sandwich slowly, feeling sick to her stomach all the sudden. "Being pregnant wasn't very much fun," she croaked, desperately clearing her throat afterwards. "Especially when you had no one to support you."

"Hmm." He rolled onto his back on the couch, sucking in a deep, pained breath. "I didn't know how to feel about your hating me. For a while it was amusing, and then it just got...confusing." He fell silent.

"Naoshi?"

Nothing.

She put down her food and walked over to where he lay, his face reposed as if in sleep. Gently, her palm pressed to his forehead and she felt the scorching heat of a fever radiating from his skin. "Ah," she muttered, grabbing his arm and roughly heaving him up. "Let's get you to bed then, Naoshi."

He grunted and dizzily took a step forward, only being saved from falling by leaning on her. He obediently let her lead him to his bedroom, and he lay down when she told him to. Almost immediately the man was asleep, but before he drifted off, he asked one question. "Could you ever love me instead of him...? In place of him...?"

Stormie allowed him to weakly catch her hand, to press the back of it to his warm cheek. And then, carefully, she answered, "I'm sorry, Naoshi... I don't think I can."