Chapter 3: The Outlaws Make a Deal

CG: Alright, Note: I've been signing these as DC because those are the initials of my FP.net account.  Just in case you were wondering.  Anyways.  An absolutely HUGE thanks to those who have reviewed!  It's so appreciated.  I love you guys.  Remember, if you're confused about anything ask me and I'll try my best to answer.  I appreciate e-mails as well.

Chap. Summary: Sting makes dinner awkward, Meryl and Vash (I didn't mention that this will most likely be a V/M thing did I?) have a conversation, and Sting proves that she does care about some things more than others.

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            (Note: I will probably never tell you at what time things occur so you'll have to look for clues on your own, I promise to make it as least confusing as possible and if it's a couple days that are skipped I will note that)

            As a team, as awkwardly matched as they were, Sting and Vann were quite the act.  Between the two's lying skills they managed to weave a long, intricate, tearjerker of a story that reasoned everything that had happened and what Sting had done perfectly.  She was the widowed mother of Vann, young and lost, driven by rage into murdering her husband, who had beaten her and her little boy mirthfully, and whose gang had subsequently felt the need to justify.  Where Sting made an effort at keeping her faked half-tears in, Vann curled at her feet and made a show of crying as loudly and pathetically as he could.  The sight was really quite touching to those who weren't aware of the truth.

            Sting collapsed into laughter as she and Vann stepped into the backroom of the saloon, where the others were sitting to wait.  There was a free dinner in it for each of them for helping the 'poor, defenseless' family and these two seemed to enjoy it immensely as Vann threw himself into a chair beside Milly, who smiled brightly at him, and Sting continued to stand, looking over the table, one hand behind her back.

            "Again, thanks to Vash for helping out this morning, Vann and I would be dead without you and, even if he's going to ignore me, thanks to Knives for playing 'hero'," she said, removing her hand from behind her and placing what was in it, a relatively large box, on the table and then sliding it across to Vash.

            "Donuts!"

            The insurance girls smiled at him, same old Vash, as the wandering pair laughed.  "A little birdie told us you liked 'em," Vann explained, "we thought we'd repay the favor."

            The outlaw smiled through a mouthful.  "You guys are great!"

            "After this we should get going," Sting said quietly.  "Vann and I have… more to do."

            "What is it you two do exactly?" Meryl asked.  This woman was quite strange, not that the insurance girl wasn't used to the occasional circus sideshow, what with having been with Vash for so long already, but Sting was different.

            Vann looked to his caretaker's face, which turned away to the table and he frowned.  "We, uh… we do a lot of… stuff.  It's kind of hard to explain."

            "Do you mind telling us?" the spitfire of a woman persisted.  "If we're going to have another natural disaster like Vash running around we should let our company know."

            "If more people get involved more people are going to be hurt," Sting said lowly and all eyes were focused on her.

            She's very strange, even for a spider, Knives' voice whispered in Vash's head, who nodded just slightly.

            She is, the Typhoon agreed.  If more people get involved the more people are going to get hurt… what does that mean?  She's afraid of something… or someone… I can sense it from her.

            If Knives was going to reply, it wasn't any time soon as he severed his connection with his brother and the two remained in silence.

            "What are you talking about?" Meryl asked.

            "I think I made it clear.  This 'business' that I'm in… no one else can get involved.  If you tell your company about me… things will change for the worse," Sting continued on softly.  "The man I'm hunting is my own personal natural disaster… one I created and one I plan to take out and it doesn't matter how many men have to go down before he does… they're the fools who decided to waste everything and work under him."

            It was then Vash intervened, eyes narrowing.  "You can't-"

            "I highly suggest against what you're about to say," Sting cut him off, voice soft.  "I don't want someone telling me that what I'm doing is wrong.  I've second-guessed my decisions enough alone, I don't need someone else doing the same."  Her tone signaled that the discussion was over, as did her picking up her fork and starting in on her dinner.

                                                *                      *                      *

            Meryl sat in her room on the bed, staring upward at the ceiling, hand thrown haphazardly over her forehead, stripped to her skirt and blouse.

            As if having to watch Vash wasn't bad enough there's now Knives and Sting around, whoever she is, the woman thought, sighing and closing her eyes.  She can't be all that bad though, the way she was fussing over that kid earlier was almost mother-like.  But those men he's killed… I wonder if they really did all the things she said or if that was just to cover her own hide?

            "Meryl?"

            She sat up quickly to find Vash standing in the doorway, looking awkward there.  "Yes?"

            He shifted uncomfortably and then stepped in.  The woman shifted, pulling her legs up underneath her and motioning for him to sit, which he did.  The bed heaved under his added weight.  "I feel like I should explain why I was gone so long," he whispered.

            Meryl shrugged.  "Not if you don't want to."

            The outlaw sighed.  "Meryl, Knives isn't safe, I didn't want him to endanger anyone else anymore… we've lost too many to him already.  I wanted to make sure that he couldn't put innocents in danger… especially you."  He was staring at her with such earnest in his aqua-blue eyes.

            The insurance girl stared at him, butterflies fluttering about her stomach.  "Vash… you didn't need to worry about that, I can take care of myself!" she protested.

            "Not against Knives," Vash replied.  "I couldn't stand to see you hurt… promise you won't do anything stupid when it comes to him."

            Meryl would've argued his use of the word 'stupid' but bit her tongue as she felt his hand wrap tenderly around both of her own.  "Vash, I-"

            "Promise me."

            She looked down at his hand clutching hers and nodded slowly.  "Alright, Vash."

            Sting sat with her back pressed against the support beam of the hotel's porch, a cigarette held between her fingers, burning idly.  She tilted her head back, staring upwards blankly, half-conscious of everything around her.

            Flashback

            "You can't do this, Mason!"

            "I thought this was what we're supposed to be doing!"

            "We do not kill innocent men!"

            "What about that guy the other day?  He seemed pretty innocent to me."

            "That was personal."

            "Well so was this!"

            "He was our friend, Mason!"

            "Not mine!"

            Fin. Flashback

            Sting sighed and rubbed her temples in frustration.

            "Sting?"

            She looked up to spot Vann standing above her, a worried look crossing his young face.  Inwardly she smiled.  He'd be beating girls off with a stick when he was older… though chances were driving toward the fact that she would not witness this.  Her time was drawing near to a close, she could feel it in her bones, in her mind and heart and soul…

            "Whatcha need, kid?" she asked, watching as he sat down beside her and taking a long drag from her cigarette and then tilting her head back again to blow the smoke upward into the air.

            "Are we staying?" he whispered.

            Sting looked down at her boots for a second before straightening, swinging her legs out in front of her to be parallel with his own.  "It wouldn't be safe for them," she began, "if we did."

            Vann bit his lip.  "But what about if we don't… those guys will come after them because he'll think they know something!"

            "He isn't going to find out about anything, there's no way he can, and we took care of those morons."

            "But I was thinking… what if there was more that we don't know about?  What if there were like ten of them?  What if this entire town in crawling with those creeps and Vash and his brother and the insurance girls are in trouble?  We'd of done exactly what we're aiming not to… we're not protecting them if we leave, Sting."

            The woman shook her head.  "We're not protecting them if we stay.  It is a tangled web you and I weave in this fabric of life… and those who get caught up in it are only the unfortunate flies."  She looked at him earnestly and took his chin into her hand, turning his eyes to meet hers.  "I cannot change what has come to pass though I wish upon wish that I could… I can only change what might be as much as Fate will allow me to.  I don't like it any more than you do but we endanger those four more if we stick around than we do if we leave.  I have the distinct feeling that the Typhoon and his brother are perfectly capable of surviving this through and I don't think the great Stampede would let anything happen to those insurance girls."

            "But what if something does?"

            Sting looked away, not ready to answer.  "Why don't you go to bed or something?  I need time to think."

            Vann swallowed hard and nodded, rising to his feet and walking away.

            The woman took another long drag from her cigarette.  "Vann wants to stay," she stated to the air, smoke pouring from her lips at her ever word, "we need to go, the wolf is at our heels, and I think my timeline's gonna be snipped… what's it sound like to you, Stampede?"
            "It sounds like you're in a heap of trouble," the blond man said as he leaned against the doorframe of the building behind her.  "And it sounds like you could use some help."

            "Heap of trouble, yes, help, no, I haven't accepted help from anyone my entire life," Sting protested, "and I don't plan to start now."

            "There's a first time for everything."

            The cigarette was dropped to the ground as the faux preacher rose to her feet and turned on Vash, eyeing him.  "I can't accept your help, Stampede," she whispered, "my morals, my conscience, and my logical mind will not allow me to do so.  It will only serve to further endanger you, your brother, Meryl, and Milly."

            Vash looked down at her.  "If you think I'm going to let you do this, whatever it is, on your own you're insane.  I can't just watch you nearly get killed."

            "Then don't watch," Sting hissed, moving as if to walk pass him.

            The outlaw grabbed a hold of her shoulder, stopping her immediately.  "Who's after you?" he asked.

            For a moment the woman stared at the wooden planking at her feet.  "Someone I spited some years ago and he's never forgotten," she murmured, "it started off simple and it got more and more complicated as we fell further in.  It turned into a game and I don't think either of us knows who exactly the hunter and hunted are… because it changes.  The rules are not solid in this game we play, they are ever-changing… except one, which is… the players cannot stop playing or they forfeit their life.  I've never taken help but I felt like that would be asking someone to put their life on the line for me and I may or may not be right in this but my hunch is that those girls, one of them in particular, are very special to you and that your brother, though he is an asshole, is of no less importance.  Stampede, do not risk what you might not gain back again.  Please… think before you act.  I won't stop you from helping me but if anything happens to any of you… I'll live with that regret."

            For a moment aqua eyes remained sedate and unreadable as they bore into her.

            Sting realized in that moment of silent deliberation in which he fought a war of conscience and logical mind that this man, this Humanoid Typhoon, was more than what the stories credited him to be… much more.

            A small smile appeared on his features and he offered her a hand, as if to shake.  "I wouldn't be much of a person if I let you do this by yourself," he said softly.

            Sting smirked.  "You're not being much of an outlaw by offering to help."  She looked down hesitantly at his offered hand and took it in her own.  "But I've never believed you to be much of one and I don't think I'll start now."

                                                *                      *                      *

            "Sting, I can't sleep."

            The woman, who was sitting at the desk in the corner of their hotel room writing up something, turned to find the boy staring at her.  "Vann, I know you, you've probably been sitting there staring at the ceiling.  You can't sleep unless you close your eyes."

            The boy rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  "What's going to happen to us, Sting?"

            The woman sighed and stood up, walking to sit down beside him on the bed.  "I'm not sure, Vann."

            "Can you tell me something?"

            "Depends what you want me to tell you."

            Vann shifted uncomfortably.  "If you leave me… will you ever come back?"

            Sting frowned a little.  "Who says I'd leave you?"

            "Sting, I'm young, not stupid, I know that whatever it is you're mucked up in is gonna make it so you gotta leave me!"  He had not met her gaze and was instead staring intensely at the blankets of his bed.  Sting watched as two, small wet spots appeared and she realized he was crying.  "So… when you do… will you ever come back?"

            The woman sighed and reached forward to hug him gently, placing her chin atop his head.  "Someone will very well have to chain me up and drag me off to make me leave you, Vann… and if I do… yeah… I'll come back."

            She felt more tears wet her shoulder and pulled away, lifting calloused hands to wipe away the flecks of salty water.  "Now, now, c'mon, none of that," she whispered, "you're supposed to be this badass street urchin who doesn't cry for nothin'.  What happened to the boy that I met all those long months ago."

            He half-smiled at her, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his nightshirt.  "The same thing that happened to that badass gunwoman who didn't talk to nobody for nothin'."

            "Yeah, I guess we kind of ruined our images for each other, huh?" Sting joked.  She lifted a hand and ruffled his hair.  "Try to sleep."

            He nodded and laid back as she stood up and moved over to the desk, turning off the gas lamp and walking to her own bed.

            Every muscle in her body sighed in relief as she laid down, not even bothering to change her clothes.

A/N: SOOOOO sorry that I haven't been updating!  I just didn't feel like I was getting enough reviews and then my motivation died… but I'm back… for as long as I'm this kick.  YOU'VE READ SO NOW REVIEW!!!