Here's the next chapter.

I need your help, though. I'm not sure where this story is gonna go, so I wanna ask my readers, all two of you, what should I do? That's why this chapter is really short, 'cause I cut it off quickly. Anyways, read. Please.

"I enjoy your music," the blond-haired, pale-skinned man said, clapping slowly and timely, almost mockingly. She lowered her fiddle and glanced between him and the blue-haired amber-eyed one, unsure. "You play quite well. Don't you think?" he asked the other.

"Certainly, Master," he said in an even, emotionless tone, the smile he grew just as emotionless.

"Who are you?" she asked, curious and slightly anxious.

"My name is Knives," the blond one said. "And he's Legato. Would you like to come with us, to play for us?"

Alex woke with a start, gasping and immediately grabbing her pistol. She glanced around, wondering where she was, when her eyes fell upon the sandwich before her. Her stomach rumbled with painful hunger, and she grabbed the sandwich and wolfed it down ravenously, leaving hardly a crumb behind. When someone started laughing she whipped around, and saw the priest sitting in the chair, watching her with amusement.

"Hungry, I see," he said. "I can get you another, if you want."

"Where's Eamon and Vann?" she asked, remembering suddenly. She stood up, and glanced towards the doorway, then darted forward. Her friends lay serenely in the beds. Both the girls were gone, but the red-coated man was asleep in the chair nearby. As she looked at him, his eyes opened, and he looked at her, then stood.

"Alex," he said. She nodded, then searched her memory for his name. Vash, Vash, that's it! Then she paused. Vash. The name struck a bell again, and then suddenly it came to her.

"Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon," she said, awe in her voice. He frowned, with a puzzled smile.

"What? Yeah, that's me," he said, and headed to the doorway, passing her and entering the main room. She followed, her mind numb with astonishment.

"Holy shit, Vash, you're like...like..." she tried searching for a word, and finished, "you're my hero, my god!"

He raised his eyebrows. "You're hero and god? I really think that's too much--"

"I've wanted to be just like you since I was little," she said, grinning. "I heard th'stories, 'bout July an' the sandsteamer and New Oregon and everything about you!"

"Well, looks like you have a fan," the priest said. Alex glanced at him and said, "You're the Priest in Black, the cross-toting companion of the Stampede."

"I prefer Wolfwood," he said.

"Wow," she breathed, stretching her arms, then winced and gave a strangled cry. She had forgotten about the gunshot wound from last night in her shoulder, and she found the little graze on her waist, both wounds having stained her shirt and coat. "Oh, God," she whispered, touching the graze delicately again. Vash and Wolfwood had come over, and were looking at each wound.

"Why didn't you get this taken care of last night?" Wolfwood asked.

"Vann and Eamon came first," she said, biting her lip against the pain as she slowly slid off her jacket and touched the bullet hole in her shoulder.

"Meryl! Milly!" Wolfwood called. From the other side of the house the two girls came running, and the smaller one said, "What? What's going on?"

"Look," Wolfwood said, motioning to Alex's wounds. "The boy didn't tell you about them, did he?"

"He demanded that the others get seen first," the big girl said.

Alex started to get nervous. If the girls were going to take care of her wounds, she had to take her shirt off, which meant she had to show her breasts. Then they'd know she wasn't a boy.

"I'm fine, really," she said. "Let me go take care of it myself, I'll be fine."

"Oh, no you don't!" the big girl said, grabbing her up and carrying her into the other room struggling, while the small girl told Vash and Wolfwood to go make something to eat.

"Please, I'm fine," Alex said, struggling to keep her from taking her shirt off. "I'll take care of it myself, I promise!"

"Just take it off, it's not like you've got anything to hide," the smaller girl said. Alex sighed, tears coming to her eyes, as the bigger girl slid her shirt off. They were silent for a moment, and then Alex crossed her arms over her bound chest and turned away, tears coming now.

"You're a--a girl," the big girl said. The small girl went and quickly shut the door, then glanced at Vann and Eamon. "Oh, they're out cold, they won't see anything."

"So, how long have you kept this secret? By the way, I'm Meryl Strife," the smaller girl said. "She's Milly Thompson."

"For years. In my hometown of Warren, I had two friends, Chris an' Kara, an' when I first decided I wanted to be an outlaw, Kara suggested I dress like a boy. Nobody else has known until now." Alex bit her lip as Milly and Meryl each took care of a wound, the graze and the bullethole.

"You've been shot before," Milly said, touching the bullethole on her arm.

"Yeah, that was from a bounty hunter," Alex said. "Mitch Deathseeker. I ended up shooting him."

Neither of the girls replied after she said that, then Meryl said, "How old are you?"

"Thirteen," Alex answered. "I left Warren and joined the Red Hill Coyotes when I was twelve."

A sad look suddenly grew on Milly's face, and Alex didn't understand. Why were they looking at her with pity? She didn't want pity! All she wanted was her friends to be fine, her secret safe, and her name shouted with infamy. Was that too much to ask?

So, you like? Well, please tell me where you think I should take this. I'm at that steep decline in my writing career ((hears coughs and snickers from audience and waves stick threateningly)) and so I need help for you to get me past my writer's block? Got ideas? Review, please!

((Hey, I just realized that was one of the cleanest a/n's I've ever written, as well as one of the shortest...hmm...I'll have to do something big next time...definitely a shout-out to my fans...))

((Hears mixed amounts of gagging and laughter from audience))

-Wolf