T R I G U N
Sunlight shone through the room and onto the bed--outside there was no sound, for all of the citizens of the little saloon town were still asleep. It was a hot, lazy morning, as it always was.
For Vash the Stampede, however, it was no ordinary day.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked around, nestled under the covers of a comfortable bed. It was a beautiful, glorious morning. He snuggled in deeper, the taste and touch and smell of the night before lingering around him.
He could hear Ellie's steady breath, laid snuggled up against his back. He smiled and turned over, wrapping his arm around her and bringing her close, kissing her forehead and gently caressing her soft skin. "I love you." He whispered, holding her tight.
Ellie was amazing. Vash could not believe he had found her, after so many years. She loved him so deeply that she had not cared about the countless, horrifying scars he had all over his body; it was if she had not noticed that he did not have one arm. Their night had been so passionate, nothing but being together once again mattered to either of them.
"The love of my life," he said with a faint smile, making his way down to her neck with his lips.
Ellie stirred and murmured a little, slowly opening her eyes. Vash greeted her with a kiss. "Good morning, my love."
Ellie's eyes shot open and she screamed, tumbling out of the bed. Vash screamed too, so startled by her reaction that he nearly fell as well. "What what what?!" He asked, frightened.
"W-what the hell are you doing in my--" Ellie gasped. "Oh my God, you're naked!"
"So are you!" Vash pointed out.
Ellie covered herself up, swallowing. "Oh, God . . . did we . . .?"
Vash winked. "You bet we did."
"Oh my God." Ellie muttered as she picked up her clothes, in shock. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God . . ."
"Ellie?" Vash pulled on his boxers, turned to her and held out his hand. "Honey, what's wrong?"
"Don't you 'honey' me!" Ellie said, backing away from him. "I'm going to go take a shower." She stalked out of the room, pausing at the door long enough to shoot him an angry glare. "And don't you dare follow me!"
Vash blinked when she slammed the door; he sighed, plopping down on the bed. "Man, she's got the worst memory imagineable."
--------
July City was nearly rebuilt.
For years the debris of July were cleaned away, and then those who had survived began to build anew their homes and businesses, until it was once again the largest and greatest of the twelve cities. Once again a thriving metropolis, only a few projects remained.
Knives kept himself hooded as he walked through the busy streets, towering over the citizens with his unusual height. Yet for all of this, he was unnoticed, dismissed as a weary traveler.
He narrowed his eyes, weaving through the crowds as he headed downtown, where there were fewer people and he was more unlikely to be bothered. Humans. He felt sickened by the presence of them, but he tolerated them, and did not threaten them unless provoked.
He paused for a moment, trying to gain his bearings. They had changed July so much, it was hard to figure out where he was. His contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a child crying. He ignored it at first, dismissing it as just some brat in disagreement with his mother's wishes. Yet when the cries drew nearer, he began looking around curiously. There, a few feet away from him, was a small boy, perhaps only two years of age. He was crying hard and calling for his mother, frightened.
Knives waited for a moment--none of the people around the little child took notice of him, or even stopped to ask him what was wrong. He snorted. "Cruel people. They don't even look after their own kind."
He was about to turn and walk away, but for some reason he lingered, watching the boy. He sighed. "What am I doing?" He asked himself quietly, and then within two strides the child was within reach. He looked at him, frightened by his hidden face, and so in order to calm him Knives brought down his hood, revealing his near white blonde hair--which had a single streak of black--and his piercing blue eyes.
The boy hiccuped, repeating "mommy" in exhaustion through his tears. Knives stared at him. "Well, what shall I do with you?"
He was now regretting even attempting to touch the child, because he was very sticky with drool. Not only this but Knives had no idea what to do with him, or how to do it. He awkwardly paused and then rested him on his shoulder, patting his back as gently as he could. "There there. Let's find your stupid and rather irresponsible mother, eh?"
He must have spent the entire afternoon searching for the boy's mother. The child whimpered and hiccupped a little more before he became curious about Knives and started poking random parts of his face, saying small words like "nose" and "eye." Knives coped with it and even humored him a little. "Yes, that is my eye, and I need it, so please don't stick your finger in it."
Knives was just about fed up with the kid when someone tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me. I believe that's mine."
Knives turned. "Well," he said disdainfully, "finally someone to take this nuisance off my hands. Here." And with that, he shoved the child into the woman's arms.
"Thank you." She said sincerely. Knives stopped and looked at her. She had light blonde hair, long and falling freely about her in waves of white gold, and her skin was pale and beautiful, like porcelain . . . and her eyes . . . there was something familiar about those eyes . . . even the sound of her voice . . .
His eyes strayed downwards, taking in her colorful assortment of clothing. Her top was thin, loose and white, a dip in the collar small enough to show just a little of--even Knives had to admit--near-perfect cleavage. A blue sash was wrapped around an orange and white skirt, and she wore brown boots, nothing out of the ordinary. She was obviously a poor woman, but all the same, a beautiful one.
There was The young woman noticed him staring and smiled. "Is there anything you want? I will gladly pay you." She turned and called through the crowd. "Mary! I found him!"
Oh, good, the child isn't hers. Knives thought with relief. He stopped, unable to believe himself. What . . . what on earth am I thinking?
"Have we met before?" Knives asked suddenly.
The woman smiled. "No, I don't think so."
"You look familiar to me."
"I think I would remember if I met someone like you." She laughed. "Thank you once again, sir." And with that she handed him a large sum of money.
She left him standing there and staring, oblivious to everything around him. Why do I feel like we've met before?
---
"Eve, dear, what's wrong?"
Eve swallowed hard, her body lightly shaking with the growing excitement and anxiety she had felt when she had seen him. She had lied--she recognized him immediately, and it had taken her best acting to keep her surprise from showing.
She did not know his name, but she remembered nearly 165 years ago, when he had found her weeping over the remains of her mother. They had shared an intense moment and both had almost given into their desires. There had not been a day in her life when she did not think of him.
"Eve?" Mary asked, concerned. She was a young woman with three children, and Eve had been helping her shop. They too were dressed in colorful clothing, for they were gypsies, entertainers who traveled about in caravans, performing at bars and other places for money.
"It's nothing," Eve said after a moment, breaking out of her thoughts. "I'll be right back, I think I forgot something."
She weaved through the crowds on the streets, in search of him. At last she saw him, walking away slowly, cloaked as he was before. "Wait!" She called, but he could not hear her. "Sir? Please wai--"
The brunt of a rifle came down hard upon her head, and the crowds scattered as two thugs grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out of sight.
---
"I have to ask her what her name is." Knives muttered, turning around. "Maybe that will shed some light on the matter."
Suddenly the crowds went into a panic, running off in several directions. Knives froze, his keen ears focused on the area around him. He heard gunfire.
"Stay with me, now, don't go running off." Knives glanced to his right. There was another woman, dressed colorfully, leading three young children away from the shots.
"Wait a minute," he said, stepping in front of her. "What's going on?"
"Oh, thank God." Mary looked to the sky. "He brought me a babysitter. Here, you watch them."
Knives watched in astonishment as from under her petticoat a long rifle, cocking it with a swift movement. "What on earth are you doing?" He said in surprise.
"They went and took her, the damn thugs." Mary spat, looking at her kids sweetly. "Don't you ever say that word, little darlings."
"Damn damn damn!" The kids sang, dancing around.
"Aw, crap."
"Crap crap crap!"
"Stop that!"
"Took who?"
"Eve." Mary said. "They've been after her for a while now."
Knives swore his heart stopped beating at that moment. "Eve?" He repeated in a whisper. It's her. That's where I remember her . . . it's her! Oh God, a surge of excitement rippled through him, I found her!
"You watch your children." Knives said, fire in his eyes. "I'm going after Eve."
"Who the hell are you?"
Knives looked at her, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I'm her mate."
---
"Wake her up, damn it!"
Eve sharply awoke to someone kicking her side. She blinked several times and then rose to her feet, massaging her throbbing head. "All right, you freak." She was pushed forward, and almost lost her balance. "You get that damn plant to work!"
When at last Eve's vision cleared, she saw that she was in a power plant, not unlike the one she had been born in. In front of her was a plant bulb, round and dark. She hesitated, and then pressed her face against it, in order to see.
She jumped, startled when she saw the distorted face of the plant inside, its expression that of a horrified scream. She floated motionless, the bodies of her children, still attached to her abdomen, twisted and broken. Eve called to her quietly, but she did not respond. After a moment, she stepped away with a sigh. "It's no use."
"What do you mean, no use?!" One of her captors growled.
"I mean, it's no use." She said coldly. "You worked her so hard that you killed her. A plant cannot supply energy for a full 72 hours without rest. You have to give her time to recooperate."
"A little plant expert we have here, eh?" Someone sniggered.
Eve gave him a dangerous glare. "You killed her children, and then you killed her."
"So from now on we give the damned thing breaks." Another shrugged.
"They aren't electricity, they are living, breathing creatures. Breaks won't do it." Eve said angrily. "They won't give you what you need unless you give them something in return."
"What could a plant bulb possibly want?"
"What every animal wants." One growled, striding up to Eve and pinning her to the wall. "A little fun, right?" His colleagues laughed.
Eve cried out fearfully only to be muffled as the man cupped her breast, while using another hand to cover her mouth. "Quiet now, pretty baby, this won't hurt much." He sniggered.
---
Knives shook with rage as he emerged from the shadows, his fingers becoming sharp as daggers. He killed two of the workers with a single movement and then leapt at her attacker, stabbing him through. The worker froze in mid- scream and fell to the floor--the others loaded their guns but from his arms sprouted forth the shapes of swords. He gutted them all with a single blow, and all fell dead to the ground.
Eve could not bring her eyes away from the sight, frightened by the power that Knives could control. He turned to her and put his arms around her. "Eve."
"Oh, God . . ." She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "You . . ."
"It's all right, nothing can seperate us now." Knives whispered.
"What is your name?" Eve asked quietly, nestling against him.
"Knives."
"Knives . . ." She repeated, trailing off as she finally gave in to her instincts.
---
"Well, that must have been a wonderful experience." Mary said with a sweet laugh as she poured Knives some coffee. It was evening, now, and Eve had led him to where her caravan was camped. While Eve took care of the children Mary invited Knives to her trailer, and he had spoken very little-- they were still humans and he was still wary of them. "If you're as old as she is, I would say...160 years of waiting?"
Knives was wallowing in his passion. He and Eve had mated hard three times during the course of that day, each time more aggressive and fierce than the last. They paused only long enough inbetween to rest themselves, and he wanted her again. Mary saw his expression and nodded. "I don't blame you, that's a long time. And seeing that you're the beginning of your race . . ."
"So you know." Knives said quietly.
Mary smiled. "Aye, I know. Eve has been with my familiy for nearly three generations now, and we've taken it upon ourselves to study her."
"And what have you found out?"
"Plenty of things." Mary said, sitting down across from him. "For instance, we estimate that a plant's lifespan outside of the bulb is 800 years, 950 tops for females. When your hair turns completely black it's a sign of coming death."
Knives touched his black streak of hair. "Fighting amongst males quickens the aging process." Mary added.
"Is that all?" Knives said with a snort, taking a small sip of his coffee.
"No, there's plenty of more interesting things that we've studied. For instance, the Turning Point."
"'Turning Point?'" Knives repeated skeptically.
"Yes." Mary said. "The Turning Point is the peak of sexual maturity in plants. You reached that stage when you were little over a year, yes?"
Knives nodded, staring at the counter. "That's when I met Eve."
"Exactly. Now at the Turning Point, the instinct to mate becomes so strong that the first of the opposite sex a plant sees, he or she becomes their mate. Usually they mate the first time they meet--however, it's lifelong, you've proved my theory on that."
"How so?" Knives asked.
Mary gave him a sly look. "Have you ever had sex before today?"
"No."
"That's because you're only attracted to your mate. That's what is so glorious about plants, see," Mary put on her glasses. Knives almost laughed at her--she was quite the scientist. "Plants do not have problems with fidelity--it is in their instinct to have lifelong mating patterns with one partner."
"Unlike humans."
"Exactly." Mary said. "The females have it harder. Males--like yourself-- feel the urges harder for one long period of time every so often, which is why you are in a frenzy right now." She laughed. "Females, however, have it monthly. Like a human female's period, only worse."
"Worse?"
"Plant females are dangerous during their periods. Eve requested that we knock her out when her urges were at their highest. We drugged her drink whenever she needed it. She'd sleep right through them. In the morning, she would be a little disoriented, but it works."
"You're a very odd human." Knives said, nearly smiling.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Mary took notes and then removed her glasses. "Amazing."
"What?"
"It's just amazing how perceptive you are." Mary said, patting his head as she headed over to the cabinets, in order to start making dinner. "Usually when plants mate, they merge. However--oopsies!" She almost dropped a plate. "However, you imitated human reproduction. Without merging."
"So?"
"It's understandable, you were both human-raised." She gave him another look. "Pleasant, isn't it?"
Knives cocked an eyebrow. This woman certainly talked a lot. "I suppose so."
"Yes, see, merging just hurts." Mary laughed.
Knives watched her quietly. "How do you know all this?"
"Hmm?"
"All of this." He repeated. "You can't know all of it just by studying Eve, if it's her first time."
Mary smiled. It was then that Knives noticed the color of her hair--pure black, except for a few streaks of blonde in the back. "I know because you and I are alike. In some ways."
"Then you have children?"
"They're not mine. When I was born they prevented me from having children." Mary said with a smile. "Are you hungry? I'm going to start supper."
"No thank you," Knives said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to go find Eve."
"Ah, yes, I see." Mary smiled. "Two to five."
"What?"
"Two to five. That's how many children female plants bear at a time outside the bulb." She gave Knives a mischievous wink. "You're going to be a father, Knives. The father of your race."
"I suppose so." Knives said with a nod, shutting the door behind him.
Mary shrugged and continued preparing her evening meal. "Rather stone- faced, that one . . ."
---
The city of July was alight when the sun went down. Knives found her, sitting alone beside a fire, staring into the flames. He came up from behind her and kissed her. "Are you ready?" He whispered.
Eve did not answer, but simply continued watching the fire, looking downcast. Knives sat beside her curiously. "What's wrong?"
"Knives?" Eve hesitated to speak, but she was troubled by something Knives could neither guess or understand.
He touched her gently, bidding her to speak. She would not. He gently kissed her ear, trying to arouse her. "What is it?"
"Do you love me?"
Knives stopped and pulled away, staring at her in disbelief. "What?"
"Do you love me?" She repeated quietly.
"What does that have to do with--"
"I need to know." Their eyes locked and her gaze was even.
Knives smiled faintly. "We don't need to talk about that," he said, trying once again to persuade her. She pushed him away. "What is wrong with you?" He asked, a little irritated this time.
"I need to know." She repeated firmly. Knives was surprised--Eve was usually quiet, with a more gentle countanence, but now she looked fierce, almost angry.
He shook his head, stubbornly and defiantly. "No." He said at last. "I don't love you."
Eve swallowed down hurtful tears and kept her voice level. "Why?"
"Because I don't believe in love." Knives answered. "Love is a human emotion."
"We're human." Eve answered.
Knives could not believe what he was hearing. He looked at her in shock and tried to keep patience with her. "No, we're not. We're different from humans in every aspect except appearance. And even in that we're set apart."
"We were raised by humans."
"That doesn't make us humans."
"We behave like humans."
"That still doesn't make us humans."
The tears were apparent. Knives could not understand why this meant so much to Eve, but he did not bother to ask. "So," she whispered, "If I were to tell you that I love you, you wouldn't believe me?"
"No." Knives said stubbornly.
"Then why did we mate?"
"Children. Instinct." Knives answered quickly. "Not love."
Eve rose to her feet. "I don't believe you mean what you say." She declared, stalking away towards her trailer. Knives angrily fought the urge to follow her. She reminded him in a distant way of his brother, only twice as stubborn and at least twice as hard to understand.
Fighting desires that would not be satisfied that night, he sat sulking by the fire.
--------
The next few days that passed, to Vash, were torture. Ellie barely spoke to him, and when she did acknowledge him she looked troubled, almost frightened of him. He would seek her out and she shrank from him, no matter how gentle his words were to her. She took to a different bed and would not let him touch her.
It was sunset, and Ellie stood out on the porch, a glass of scotch in her hand as she watched the world around her grow dark with the approach of evening. Vash pushed past the swinging doors and lingered behind her, unsure what to say. He could not take anymore of being shunned and avoided.
"Ellie?" He spoke quietly, coming to stand beside her. She would not look at him, while he could not bring his eyes away from her. When she said nothing, he took a step closer. "Ellie, what have I done?"
She did not answer, her eyes set upon the horizon. He kept watching her, hurt by her silence. "Have I upset you?"
The calm exterior that Ellie had been trying hard to keep up for the past several days finally broke. Tears welled up in her eyes and she covered her mouth, stifling a quiet sob. Vash did not hesitate; he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. Ellie buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him like a frightened child. "It's okay," he murmured, caressing her hair. "It's okay."
He rocked her back and forth, shushing her. She shook her head, her vision blurred. "No, it's not okay."
"Tell me why."
"I'm just so scared."
"There's no reason to be scared anymore." Vash reassured. "Shhh . . . Ellie, it's all right now . . . I'm here."
Ellie looked up at him and he gently kissed her forehead. She tried to smile at him, unsteadily raising her scotch glass to her lips. Vash shook his head, taking it away from her. "You shouldn't drink anymore."
"Why?"
"It isn't good for the baby."
Ellie trembled--Vash held her hands, stroking them reassuringly. "There is a baby, isn't there?"
Ellie bit her lip. "No."
Vash felt a sudden mix of both relief and sadness, unsure how to react to her answer. He was glad because there was no longer any reason for her to be frightened, yet sad because he knew that deep inside they both yearned to have children. He regathered himself and sighed, telling himself that eventually they would start a family, it was just a matter of waiting. He kissed her lips gently just as she spoke again. "Three."
Vash's eyes bulged. He pulled away. "What was that?"
"Three." Ellie drew in a deep breath. "There's three."
"Three." Vash said, his eyes huge. His jaw dropped. "Babies?"
Ellie nodded, a tear trickling down her cheek. "Three babies."
"Oh . . . okay."
Vash fainted.
Sunlight shone through the room and onto the bed--outside there was no sound, for all of the citizens of the little saloon town were still asleep. It was a hot, lazy morning, as it always was.
For Vash the Stampede, however, it was no ordinary day.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked around, nestled under the covers of a comfortable bed. It was a beautiful, glorious morning. He snuggled in deeper, the taste and touch and smell of the night before lingering around him.
He could hear Ellie's steady breath, laid snuggled up against his back. He smiled and turned over, wrapping his arm around her and bringing her close, kissing her forehead and gently caressing her soft skin. "I love you." He whispered, holding her tight.
Ellie was amazing. Vash could not believe he had found her, after so many years. She loved him so deeply that she had not cared about the countless, horrifying scars he had all over his body; it was if she had not noticed that he did not have one arm. Their night had been so passionate, nothing but being together once again mattered to either of them.
"The love of my life," he said with a faint smile, making his way down to her neck with his lips.
Ellie stirred and murmured a little, slowly opening her eyes. Vash greeted her with a kiss. "Good morning, my love."
Ellie's eyes shot open and she screamed, tumbling out of the bed. Vash screamed too, so startled by her reaction that he nearly fell as well. "What what what?!" He asked, frightened.
"W-what the hell are you doing in my--" Ellie gasped. "Oh my God, you're naked!"
"So are you!" Vash pointed out.
Ellie covered herself up, swallowing. "Oh, God . . . did we . . .?"
Vash winked. "You bet we did."
"Oh my God." Ellie muttered as she picked up her clothes, in shock. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God . . ."
"Ellie?" Vash pulled on his boxers, turned to her and held out his hand. "Honey, what's wrong?"
"Don't you 'honey' me!" Ellie said, backing away from him. "I'm going to go take a shower." She stalked out of the room, pausing at the door long enough to shoot him an angry glare. "And don't you dare follow me!"
Vash blinked when she slammed the door; he sighed, plopping down on the bed. "Man, she's got the worst memory imagineable."
--------
July City was nearly rebuilt.
For years the debris of July were cleaned away, and then those who had survived began to build anew their homes and businesses, until it was once again the largest and greatest of the twelve cities. Once again a thriving metropolis, only a few projects remained.
Knives kept himself hooded as he walked through the busy streets, towering over the citizens with his unusual height. Yet for all of this, he was unnoticed, dismissed as a weary traveler.
He narrowed his eyes, weaving through the crowds as he headed downtown, where there were fewer people and he was more unlikely to be bothered. Humans. He felt sickened by the presence of them, but he tolerated them, and did not threaten them unless provoked.
He paused for a moment, trying to gain his bearings. They had changed July so much, it was hard to figure out where he was. His contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a child crying. He ignored it at first, dismissing it as just some brat in disagreement with his mother's wishes. Yet when the cries drew nearer, he began looking around curiously. There, a few feet away from him, was a small boy, perhaps only two years of age. He was crying hard and calling for his mother, frightened.
Knives waited for a moment--none of the people around the little child took notice of him, or even stopped to ask him what was wrong. He snorted. "Cruel people. They don't even look after their own kind."
He was about to turn and walk away, but for some reason he lingered, watching the boy. He sighed. "What am I doing?" He asked himself quietly, and then within two strides the child was within reach. He looked at him, frightened by his hidden face, and so in order to calm him Knives brought down his hood, revealing his near white blonde hair--which had a single streak of black--and his piercing blue eyes.
The boy hiccuped, repeating "mommy" in exhaustion through his tears. Knives stared at him. "Well, what shall I do with you?"
He was now regretting even attempting to touch the child, because he was very sticky with drool. Not only this but Knives had no idea what to do with him, or how to do it. He awkwardly paused and then rested him on his shoulder, patting his back as gently as he could. "There there. Let's find your stupid and rather irresponsible mother, eh?"
He must have spent the entire afternoon searching for the boy's mother. The child whimpered and hiccupped a little more before he became curious about Knives and started poking random parts of his face, saying small words like "nose" and "eye." Knives coped with it and even humored him a little. "Yes, that is my eye, and I need it, so please don't stick your finger in it."
Knives was just about fed up with the kid when someone tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me. I believe that's mine."
Knives turned. "Well," he said disdainfully, "finally someone to take this nuisance off my hands. Here." And with that, he shoved the child into the woman's arms.
"Thank you." She said sincerely. Knives stopped and looked at her. She had light blonde hair, long and falling freely about her in waves of white gold, and her skin was pale and beautiful, like porcelain . . . and her eyes . . . there was something familiar about those eyes . . . even the sound of her voice . . .
His eyes strayed downwards, taking in her colorful assortment of clothing. Her top was thin, loose and white, a dip in the collar small enough to show just a little of--even Knives had to admit--near-perfect cleavage. A blue sash was wrapped around an orange and white skirt, and she wore brown boots, nothing out of the ordinary. She was obviously a poor woman, but all the same, a beautiful one.
There was The young woman noticed him staring and smiled. "Is there anything you want? I will gladly pay you." She turned and called through the crowd. "Mary! I found him!"
Oh, good, the child isn't hers. Knives thought with relief. He stopped, unable to believe himself. What . . . what on earth am I thinking?
"Have we met before?" Knives asked suddenly.
The woman smiled. "No, I don't think so."
"You look familiar to me."
"I think I would remember if I met someone like you." She laughed. "Thank you once again, sir." And with that she handed him a large sum of money.
She left him standing there and staring, oblivious to everything around him. Why do I feel like we've met before?
---
"Eve, dear, what's wrong?"
Eve swallowed hard, her body lightly shaking with the growing excitement and anxiety she had felt when she had seen him. She had lied--she recognized him immediately, and it had taken her best acting to keep her surprise from showing.
She did not know his name, but she remembered nearly 165 years ago, when he had found her weeping over the remains of her mother. They had shared an intense moment and both had almost given into their desires. There had not been a day in her life when she did not think of him.
"Eve?" Mary asked, concerned. She was a young woman with three children, and Eve had been helping her shop. They too were dressed in colorful clothing, for they were gypsies, entertainers who traveled about in caravans, performing at bars and other places for money.
"It's nothing," Eve said after a moment, breaking out of her thoughts. "I'll be right back, I think I forgot something."
She weaved through the crowds on the streets, in search of him. At last she saw him, walking away slowly, cloaked as he was before. "Wait!" She called, but he could not hear her. "Sir? Please wai--"
The brunt of a rifle came down hard upon her head, and the crowds scattered as two thugs grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out of sight.
---
"I have to ask her what her name is." Knives muttered, turning around. "Maybe that will shed some light on the matter."
Suddenly the crowds went into a panic, running off in several directions. Knives froze, his keen ears focused on the area around him. He heard gunfire.
"Stay with me, now, don't go running off." Knives glanced to his right. There was another woman, dressed colorfully, leading three young children away from the shots.
"Wait a minute," he said, stepping in front of her. "What's going on?"
"Oh, thank God." Mary looked to the sky. "He brought me a babysitter. Here, you watch them."
Knives watched in astonishment as from under her petticoat a long rifle, cocking it with a swift movement. "What on earth are you doing?" He said in surprise.
"They went and took her, the damn thugs." Mary spat, looking at her kids sweetly. "Don't you ever say that word, little darlings."
"Damn damn damn!" The kids sang, dancing around.
"Aw, crap."
"Crap crap crap!"
"Stop that!"
"Took who?"
"Eve." Mary said. "They've been after her for a while now."
Knives swore his heart stopped beating at that moment. "Eve?" He repeated in a whisper. It's her. That's where I remember her . . . it's her! Oh God, a surge of excitement rippled through him, I found her!
"You watch your children." Knives said, fire in his eyes. "I'm going after Eve."
"Who the hell are you?"
Knives looked at her, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I'm her mate."
---
"Wake her up, damn it!"
Eve sharply awoke to someone kicking her side. She blinked several times and then rose to her feet, massaging her throbbing head. "All right, you freak." She was pushed forward, and almost lost her balance. "You get that damn plant to work!"
When at last Eve's vision cleared, she saw that she was in a power plant, not unlike the one she had been born in. In front of her was a plant bulb, round and dark. She hesitated, and then pressed her face against it, in order to see.
She jumped, startled when she saw the distorted face of the plant inside, its expression that of a horrified scream. She floated motionless, the bodies of her children, still attached to her abdomen, twisted and broken. Eve called to her quietly, but she did not respond. After a moment, she stepped away with a sigh. "It's no use."
"What do you mean, no use?!" One of her captors growled.
"I mean, it's no use." She said coldly. "You worked her so hard that you killed her. A plant cannot supply energy for a full 72 hours without rest. You have to give her time to recooperate."
"A little plant expert we have here, eh?" Someone sniggered.
Eve gave him a dangerous glare. "You killed her children, and then you killed her."
"So from now on we give the damned thing breaks." Another shrugged.
"They aren't electricity, they are living, breathing creatures. Breaks won't do it." Eve said angrily. "They won't give you what you need unless you give them something in return."
"What could a plant bulb possibly want?"
"What every animal wants." One growled, striding up to Eve and pinning her to the wall. "A little fun, right?" His colleagues laughed.
Eve cried out fearfully only to be muffled as the man cupped her breast, while using another hand to cover her mouth. "Quiet now, pretty baby, this won't hurt much." He sniggered.
---
Knives shook with rage as he emerged from the shadows, his fingers becoming sharp as daggers. He killed two of the workers with a single movement and then leapt at her attacker, stabbing him through. The worker froze in mid- scream and fell to the floor--the others loaded their guns but from his arms sprouted forth the shapes of swords. He gutted them all with a single blow, and all fell dead to the ground.
Eve could not bring her eyes away from the sight, frightened by the power that Knives could control. He turned to her and put his arms around her. "Eve."
"Oh, God . . ." She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "You . . ."
"It's all right, nothing can seperate us now." Knives whispered.
"What is your name?" Eve asked quietly, nestling against him.
"Knives."
"Knives . . ." She repeated, trailing off as she finally gave in to her instincts.
---
"Well, that must have been a wonderful experience." Mary said with a sweet laugh as she poured Knives some coffee. It was evening, now, and Eve had led him to where her caravan was camped. While Eve took care of the children Mary invited Knives to her trailer, and he had spoken very little-- they were still humans and he was still wary of them. "If you're as old as she is, I would say...160 years of waiting?"
Knives was wallowing in his passion. He and Eve had mated hard three times during the course of that day, each time more aggressive and fierce than the last. They paused only long enough inbetween to rest themselves, and he wanted her again. Mary saw his expression and nodded. "I don't blame you, that's a long time. And seeing that you're the beginning of your race . . ."
"So you know." Knives said quietly.
Mary smiled. "Aye, I know. Eve has been with my familiy for nearly three generations now, and we've taken it upon ourselves to study her."
"And what have you found out?"
"Plenty of things." Mary said, sitting down across from him. "For instance, we estimate that a plant's lifespan outside of the bulb is 800 years, 950 tops for females. When your hair turns completely black it's a sign of coming death."
Knives touched his black streak of hair. "Fighting amongst males quickens the aging process." Mary added.
"Is that all?" Knives said with a snort, taking a small sip of his coffee.
"No, there's plenty of more interesting things that we've studied. For instance, the Turning Point."
"'Turning Point?'" Knives repeated skeptically.
"Yes." Mary said. "The Turning Point is the peak of sexual maturity in plants. You reached that stage when you were little over a year, yes?"
Knives nodded, staring at the counter. "That's when I met Eve."
"Exactly. Now at the Turning Point, the instinct to mate becomes so strong that the first of the opposite sex a plant sees, he or she becomes their mate. Usually they mate the first time they meet--however, it's lifelong, you've proved my theory on that."
"How so?" Knives asked.
Mary gave him a sly look. "Have you ever had sex before today?"
"No."
"That's because you're only attracted to your mate. That's what is so glorious about plants, see," Mary put on her glasses. Knives almost laughed at her--she was quite the scientist. "Plants do not have problems with fidelity--it is in their instinct to have lifelong mating patterns with one partner."
"Unlike humans."
"Exactly." Mary said. "The females have it harder. Males--like yourself-- feel the urges harder for one long period of time every so often, which is why you are in a frenzy right now." She laughed. "Females, however, have it monthly. Like a human female's period, only worse."
"Worse?"
"Plant females are dangerous during their periods. Eve requested that we knock her out when her urges were at their highest. We drugged her drink whenever she needed it. She'd sleep right through them. In the morning, she would be a little disoriented, but it works."
"You're a very odd human." Knives said, nearly smiling.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Mary took notes and then removed her glasses. "Amazing."
"What?"
"It's just amazing how perceptive you are." Mary said, patting his head as she headed over to the cabinets, in order to start making dinner. "Usually when plants mate, they merge. However--oopsies!" She almost dropped a plate. "However, you imitated human reproduction. Without merging."
"So?"
"It's understandable, you were both human-raised." She gave him another look. "Pleasant, isn't it?"
Knives cocked an eyebrow. This woman certainly talked a lot. "I suppose so."
"Yes, see, merging just hurts." Mary laughed.
Knives watched her quietly. "How do you know all this?"
"Hmm?"
"All of this." He repeated. "You can't know all of it just by studying Eve, if it's her first time."
Mary smiled. It was then that Knives noticed the color of her hair--pure black, except for a few streaks of blonde in the back. "I know because you and I are alike. In some ways."
"Then you have children?"
"They're not mine. When I was born they prevented me from having children." Mary said with a smile. "Are you hungry? I'm going to start supper."
"No thank you," Knives said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to go find Eve."
"Ah, yes, I see." Mary smiled. "Two to five."
"What?"
"Two to five. That's how many children female plants bear at a time outside the bulb." She gave Knives a mischievous wink. "You're going to be a father, Knives. The father of your race."
"I suppose so." Knives said with a nod, shutting the door behind him.
Mary shrugged and continued preparing her evening meal. "Rather stone- faced, that one . . ."
---
The city of July was alight when the sun went down. Knives found her, sitting alone beside a fire, staring into the flames. He came up from behind her and kissed her. "Are you ready?" He whispered.
Eve did not answer, but simply continued watching the fire, looking downcast. Knives sat beside her curiously. "What's wrong?"
"Knives?" Eve hesitated to speak, but she was troubled by something Knives could neither guess or understand.
He touched her gently, bidding her to speak. She would not. He gently kissed her ear, trying to arouse her. "What is it?"
"Do you love me?"
Knives stopped and pulled away, staring at her in disbelief. "What?"
"Do you love me?" She repeated quietly.
"What does that have to do with--"
"I need to know." Their eyes locked and her gaze was even.
Knives smiled faintly. "We don't need to talk about that," he said, trying once again to persuade her. She pushed him away. "What is wrong with you?" He asked, a little irritated this time.
"I need to know." She repeated firmly. Knives was surprised--Eve was usually quiet, with a more gentle countanence, but now she looked fierce, almost angry.
He shook his head, stubbornly and defiantly. "No." He said at last. "I don't love you."
Eve swallowed down hurtful tears and kept her voice level. "Why?"
"Because I don't believe in love." Knives answered. "Love is a human emotion."
"We're human." Eve answered.
Knives could not believe what he was hearing. He looked at her in shock and tried to keep patience with her. "No, we're not. We're different from humans in every aspect except appearance. And even in that we're set apart."
"We were raised by humans."
"That doesn't make us humans."
"We behave like humans."
"That still doesn't make us humans."
The tears were apparent. Knives could not understand why this meant so much to Eve, but he did not bother to ask. "So," she whispered, "If I were to tell you that I love you, you wouldn't believe me?"
"No." Knives said stubbornly.
"Then why did we mate?"
"Children. Instinct." Knives answered quickly. "Not love."
Eve rose to her feet. "I don't believe you mean what you say." She declared, stalking away towards her trailer. Knives angrily fought the urge to follow her. She reminded him in a distant way of his brother, only twice as stubborn and at least twice as hard to understand.
Fighting desires that would not be satisfied that night, he sat sulking by the fire.
--------
The next few days that passed, to Vash, were torture. Ellie barely spoke to him, and when she did acknowledge him she looked troubled, almost frightened of him. He would seek her out and she shrank from him, no matter how gentle his words were to her. She took to a different bed and would not let him touch her.
It was sunset, and Ellie stood out on the porch, a glass of scotch in her hand as she watched the world around her grow dark with the approach of evening. Vash pushed past the swinging doors and lingered behind her, unsure what to say. He could not take anymore of being shunned and avoided.
"Ellie?" He spoke quietly, coming to stand beside her. She would not look at him, while he could not bring his eyes away from her. When she said nothing, he took a step closer. "Ellie, what have I done?"
She did not answer, her eyes set upon the horizon. He kept watching her, hurt by her silence. "Have I upset you?"
The calm exterior that Ellie had been trying hard to keep up for the past several days finally broke. Tears welled up in her eyes and she covered her mouth, stifling a quiet sob. Vash did not hesitate; he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. Ellie buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him like a frightened child. "It's okay," he murmured, caressing her hair. "It's okay."
He rocked her back and forth, shushing her. She shook her head, her vision blurred. "No, it's not okay."
"Tell me why."
"I'm just so scared."
"There's no reason to be scared anymore." Vash reassured. "Shhh . . . Ellie, it's all right now . . . I'm here."
Ellie looked up at him and he gently kissed her forehead. She tried to smile at him, unsteadily raising her scotch glass to her lips. Vash shook his head, taking it away from her. "You shouldn't drink anymore."
"Why?"
"It isn't good for the baby."
Ellie trembled--Vash held her hands, stroking them reassuringly. "There is a baby, isn't there?"
Ellie bit her lip. "No."
Vash felt a sudden mix of both relief and sadness, unsure how to react to her answer. He was glad because there was no longer any reason for her to be frightened, yet sad because he knew that deep inside they both yearned to have children. He regathered himself and sighed, telling himself that eventually they would start a family, it was just a matter of waiting. He kissed her lips gently just as she spoke again. "Three."
Vash's eyes bulged. He pulled away. "What was that?"
"Three." Ellie drew in a deep breath. "There's three."
"Three." Vash said, his eyes huge. His jaw dropped. "Babies?"
Ellie nodded, a tear trickling down her cheek. "Three babies."
"Oh . . . okay."
Vash fainted.