Armistice

Milly and Vash were at it once again. They'd run for the saloon as if it were a rainforest in the desert.

Meryl sipped her tea. "Why aren't you joining in?" she asked Wolfwood.

"I've been through here before. The whiskey tastes like rancid thomas piss." Wolfwood reached for the peanuts, but was stopped by steely lavender eyes.

"I want you to know that I know how you feel," her eyes flicked to Milly, "But I want you to be careful with her feelings."

Wolfwood glanced at Vash. "I want you to know the same, then."

They understood each other.