Second-Hand Orange
Vash looked steadily at his companion's retreating back, "Tongari! I'm gonna find some food, 'kay?"
He said nothing, but wondered instead how they were going to pay for anything, much less the seedy inn room and some dinner. They had been stuck in this small town for ages, trying desperately to buy tickets out. The lodging they had now was a one-roomed fire-trap. The windows didn't open, there was no furniture, and the one bed, was small and hard. Not that they minded having one bed, but some nights were just too hot to be so close together for the traveling couple.
It was scorching, and so were the tempers. No, no one had anything to sell or trade with them. No, the next sandsteamer was weeks away. No, no, no. In more than a hundred years of living in the desert planet, Vash had never felt a time as blisteringly hot as this one. Wolfwood has persuaded him to pack the bright red coat and leather, and had wrestled him into a collared shirt and slacks, remnants of his time as Ericks.
Looking up at the cloudless, dazzling sky, Vash wanted more than anything a change of weather. He could feel sweat everywhere, on his back, forehead, neck. Although he had protested the change of clothes, he felt more comfortable. Now, Vash felt a meal was in order, to help his mood.
"Yo! Vash! Found something special!" Wolfwood sauntered in, a small paper bag in hand.
Vash turned from his contemplation of the sky. "Yes?"
Wolfwood looked deliciously evil, then reached into the bag and tossed something round and orange to him. "Nick…what is this?"
But Vash knew what it was. He had eaten them a long time ago, on a ship, picked and washed off of a small tree in the biodome. He could remember it spurting juices all over his long hair, and he smelled good for hours after, until Rem made him take a shower. The orange he held now was nothing like the genetically-engineered super-oranges he once ate with abandon. This was undersized, a little sad shriveled ball.
"It's an orange, Tongari. They're really rare! I bought it off this storekeeper…umm…" Nick trailed off, absently tearing the paper bag into strips.
"How did you pay for this, love?" Vash knew that oranges now where grown in secret oasis', nourished and loved and sold at high prices. This one was probably the bottom of the bag, forlorn and not quite good enough for the high society people here. If there were any.
"Well, I went through that brown leather bag of yours and…sold a couple things." Nick smiled a little nervously.
"WHAT! Sold!" his partner looked around wildly for his pack, and dug through it. "You sold…some of my music disks…clothes…some of my hair gel!" Vash whipped around angrily, to find a lazy priest staring him in the eye.
"weeell…those disks you don't listen to anymore, you never change out of that red coat—" Vash glared and gestured to himself, "—'cept for now, and the hair gel…well, you're adorable when your hair is all mussed and down." Wolfwood allowed himself a sly grin.
Vash let up a little. He did get an orange out of this, anyway. "Was that enough for this room, too?" he asked hopefully.
"Yeah, for a night. Those disks seemed to be pretty rare. The store-keeper said that they were really, really old."
"Great. I know." Vash stole a glance at the orange in his hand.
Wolfwood leaned in more. "Uh-huh. Lemme show you how to eat that." His hands closed around the grey mechanical hand, devoid of glove.
He stuck his short fingernail into the skin, piercing the covering and wafting a smell of long-forgotten citrus towards his hungry partner. "Phew! It's been a while since I could get an orange. That smell brings back memories."
Vash recalled Rem, Knives, and him eating oranges in the garden. Knives had become angry, because he couldn't peel it. Rem showed them patiently how to cut it open and section it. She explained about the trees and fruit, and then gave them each a part. Vash could remember biting into it, getting a burst of pure juice shot down his throat. He almost choked at the intense flavor, coughing and sputtering. No other ship food was like that.
Nick was talking, "Damn, my fingernail's too short." He glared at the orange-white fluff beneath his nail.
"Let me try! I can do it!" He took the orange and peeled back the skin with his longer, more manicured nails. The smell of orange was overpowering. Vash knew that with the small possibility of actually getting a bath in the next few days, he and Nick would smell like oranges for a while.
Nick inhaled. Vash broke the orange in half, reaching to give one part to Wolfwood. "No. Wait!" Nick grabbed both, to the protests of Vash, and proceeded to split one up.
He delicately chose up a section and held it in front of Vash's nose, while Vash made a small noise and his aqua eyes followed Wolfwood's hand. Vash gave in, opening his mouth and was hand-fed half an orange. The taste was just as he remembered, gushing in his throat, making him cough and his eyes water.
"Whoa there!" Nick looked amused. He didn't take one himself, but lightly kissed Vash's lips, tasting the tart, cool flavor and savoring it. The priest closed his eyes, as did Vash, and they stood there for a while, Nick tasting orangey Vash and Vash savoring the taste, of the orange and of Wolfwood.
"Do you want this?" Nick looked at the half of orange in his hand.
"You get a half too!" Vash reminded him fairly.
"You paid." Wolfwood chuckle, "I'd rather feed you and get a second-hand taste again!"
And he did.
*Owari*