Chapter 2

Akio did a double take as she saw the dead man shooting. It was impossible, then the it hit her; this was the real Vash the Stampede...Though he had terrible aim. Not a single man lay dead. She shrugged and walked over to him. Vash who didn't have a bullet wound on him at all just looked at the two and smiled.

"Sorry bout the mess earlier - but at least ya got your friend back-" He paused. "Well consider I just saved both of your lives...mind telling me what this is all about?" He pointed at the crumpled up gang behind him.

Twelve and Akio just looked at each other. Then Twelve stepped forward. "I well owe some people some money-"

His face stoned up and Vash knew there was more to the story then what Twelve was saying, but he let him get off with it. Vash could understand pain and not wanting to tell the world about it. He had a lot of things inside of him that he wouldn't tell the world; unless of course he was drunk.

"Hey Vash-san sorry bout my friend trying to kill you back there, she really loves me and would do anything for me...how bout I treat you to a round of drinks?"

Funny that Vash happened to be thinking of the same thing at the moment, but he couldn't decline liquor. Akio just looked saddened and ran off to the hotel.

"What's up with her? Vash watched as the girl ran off.

"Oh Akio? She doesn't like to see me get drunk. It hurts her too much. See I'm really her only family left."

Vash nodded and the two began to walk towards the nearest bar. Entering Twelve ordered up a round of the best for them both.

"I say if you try to kill the best, you should drink the best." He lifted up his mug in a toast.

"Here's to happiness!" Vash and Twelve clinked mugs together and began to drink up what was in front of them. Twelve being generous ordered round after round after round- until the two of them were so drunk they couldn't stand or see straight. The two off them wandered out into the street, singing songs about drinking and how the world should be drunk with them.

Aki looked out the window of her hotel room and saw them both, as tear ran down her cheek. What had Twelve barrel gone and done to himself this time? Running down the stairs and out the door she huddled herself in a corner a few blocks away and cried.

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Wolfwood groaned and stood weakly, hobbling over to the cross punisher. He sighed heavily. He knew he would not be able to lift the cross now and bear it's weight, but stooped over none the less to try and pick it up. He winced as he touched it, expecting it to sting or burn him, but no, it felt cool to his touch, filling him with some sort of holy light. He felt filled with an inner strength which scared him slightly, the cross being a case for weapons of death.

Slowly, he tried to lift the cross, and it felt lighter then it had ever had before. He grinned and turned, walking towards the door. A local priest, awed at his appearance, stopped him. To the young follower, probably a new one at that, Nick looked like the lord and savior with the sun casting its rays through the window. Now, in reality, it was a fluke.

"Our lord..."

"Um...Sorry, but I am not the lord, as much as I would like to be shined on, I'm just a passing gun man priest. By the way, know of any doctors around? I need the wound in my chest cleaned and gauzed."

"What wound...?" Nick looked down, surprised to find no sign of a wound.

"Right, my mistake..." With that, he turned and left with out a word, and with a mind clouded with confusion and questions.