Okay, here we are on the big chapter 7. The reviews have been flowing in, so thanks for that. I have reached a place in the story where there are a lot of possibilities on where I can take this. I really only have a very rough plan so far and your reviews really help me get my storyline priorities straight (anything for the readers, right?).

This chapter hopefully will be a bit more substantial than the last one…remember I said I had originally grouped those events with this chapter? Well I thought that ending the chapter with the "Vash depressed in the bar-scene" would be cool, and I really wanted to use the song "Drunk Again" by Reel Big Fish (Which, incidentally, Polka dot, was credited in the Author's Notes).

So, the point of that whole rambling paragraph was that I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you guys won't all get too depressed. ^_^'

Tankies to:

AmoebaFive, KaikaNozomi, Vampkestrel, FallenStardust, Molly-chan the Anime/game fan, SailorPenguinz, Sforzando, Alucard, FungiferousFlora, TeaRoses, Katrina Mama, Polka dot, PuNkRoCkBuNnY182, The Mad Orange, Saiyan Butterfly, and Ladybugg.

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Wosharu Angelsbane. The Black Devil.

That was the name of our next assignment. The bounty on his head wasn't nearly as high as Vash's was. In fact, it was only $$ 200,000,000. Chump change compared to Vash's.

Why was I comparing everything to Vash? I don't know. Why couldn't I think about anything but him during the long ride across the desert? I also don't know. How come all I could see when I closed my eyes was how shocked and hurt he had looked when we'd left? Why was the only thing I could envision the way his uniquely-colored eyes bored through me? Why the hell did I miss him so much?

The feeling of my heart breaking with every step did not change even as we traveled further and further away, except for the fact that the feeling spread to the rest of my body. I ached all over.

Milly and I didn't talk much during our journey. We both just sat on our thomases, each in our own little worlds. I had the sneaking suspicion that she was using this time to finally finish mourning over Wolfwood.

We reached our destination, a small, nameless town around 300 iles away from July after 2 weeks of agonizing silence. In a way, I was relieved. Worrying about how to approach this wanted criminal gave me something to think about other than Vash.

In the end, Milly and I decided to simply enter the town bar and see if he was there. The place was so small that that seemed like the best place to look. Apparently, most of the town could fit in there at once comfortably.

I entered, my best bitch-with-a-purpose look plastered over my face and we walked over to the bar, sitting down next to a handsome, lanky, genial-looking man who had the heels of his boots resting on the bar.

"Hello, ladies," He tilted up the brim of his cowboy hat to look us over with startlingly bright blue eyes and gave us a winning smile. "What are two pretty things like you doing in a dump like this?"

"Business." I said shortly, ordering a class of water and eyeing the bar's other, less reputable-looking patrons.

"I'm Milly and this is Meryl and we're from the Bernardelli Insurance Company," Milly explained cheerfully. "We wonder if you've seen anyone by the name of Wosharu Angelsbane around here?"

The man tilted his head up contemplatively and concentrated for a moment before shaking his head.

"I don't know anyone of that name, but I really haven't been here for very long," he leaned towards them confidentially. "But if you ask me, that guy over there looks pretty suspicious." He pointed to a shadowed corner where a darkly-clad man sat, smoking the stub of an old cigar.

"Thank you, sir." I said politely and stood up, smoothing my dress nervously. "Well, let's do it, Milly." I was about to begin walking over when the man's voice stopped me.

"I'm not sure if you know what you're getting yourself into, ma'am." He said quietly, swinging his feet off the bar and standing up.

I looked at him quizzically. He was tall, not as tall as Vash, but probably just a few inches shy. His face was partially shadowed by his gray cowboy hat and he wore a black muscle shirt and blue jeans under a long black coat.

"What do you mean?"

"Follow me." He motioned for us to follow as he strolled casually out into the street, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. I gave Milly a look and she shrugged.

"We might as well follow him, Meryl. He seems like he knows something."

The man chuckled as we came out onto the porch, where he was leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette. "You ladies are far too trusting for your line of work."

"How do you know what our line of work is?'

He gave me a sideways glance and smiled wryly. "Well, not many women looking as business-like as you come strolling into this two-bit town and start asking for a wanted criminal."

"I thought you said you hadn't heard of Wosharu the Phoenix, sir." Milly said confusedly.

"Well, I lied, didn't I?" I couldn't see his facial expression from the shadow his hat was casting over his face, but I had the feeling that he rolled his eyes. "Anyways, that wasn't my point. My point is that it would be better for you to go back to the Bernardelli Insurance Society and stay there. Request a job filing paperwork, for god's sake. It's not safe for women like you to go around chasing dangerous men."

I was more than a little startled that he had known we were from Bernardelli, but the things he said made me angry more than anything.

"What right do you have telling us what we can or cannot do?" I demanded.

"The right given to a man before he goes to face the black shadow of his own death in battle." He tilted his head up far enough for us to see it in detail. Lightly tanned skin over a smooth, youthful face. Dark, smooth hair brushing across his forehead to touch his expressive black eyebrows. And his eyes, deep blue and piercing, their color intensified by the pallor of his face.

And with that cryptic statement, tossed his cigarette to the ground, put his hands in his pockets and walked away down the street.

I stared after him quizzically. "Wait! Mr…uh…"

"You can call me Wosh," He waved one hand in the air philosophically but did not turn back to look at us.

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What a state I've gotten myself into now…I thought glumly, staring in a dazed, hung-over way at the tips of my boots, propped up at the end of my bed.

I hadn't left the hotel room except to make nightly trips to the bar since Meryl and Milly had left. That first night, my head had been filled with wild, drunken notions of running off after them and using my wonderful charm to make Meryl come back to me. I had constant little day dreams all the time about both of them bursting through the door and Meryl running into my arms and telling me how horrible it was living without me. I would hold her close and smooth back her ebony hair and assure her that everything would be wonderful. We would be together forever.

Forever…I sighed and looked over at Knives. Still not awake. Damn him. Damn him to hell. It was so much easier if I could just blame all of this on him. If he wasn't here I could go after them. I sure as hell wasn't going to carry him off to whatever god-forsaken place those girls had gone now. No, I wouldn't.

I wouldn't.

Or would I?

I shook my head, which only served to worsen my pounding headache and slumped back onto the bed with a moan.

I had resigned myself to the fact that I was in love with Meryl several days ago. It made sense. Due to the fact that I really longed for her presence more than anything. Due to the fact that I was more concerned about what this new outlaw might do to her than anything.

After all, not all wanted criminals are as nice as I am, I smirked.

I stared at Knives again and willed him to wake up. Wake up. Wakeupwakeupwakeup. The sooner he woke up, the sooner I could figure out whatever the hell was wrong with him, and more importantly, the sooner I could set out to find Meryl.

I moaned unhappily and decided to sleep off my hangover so I could head over to the bar and get drunk again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I woke up to the sound of a groan. I emitted an nearly identical groan, noticing that my hangover still wasn't gone and looked to over to Knives to realize that he had woken up.

I stumbled out of bed and over to him.

"So, you're finally awake." I commented, scratching the stubble on my chin.

He ran a hand through his short blonde hair and looked up at me with a perplexed expression.

"Who are you again?"

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Woooo! What happened to Knives' memory? Could it be some strange side-effect of the mental bitch-slapping Vash gave him? Does this mean that Vash can safely lug him off to find the insurance girls? Tune in for the next episode!