CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont2)

Standing before their door, Vash was dressed as the waiter he was once again. He waited a moment before knocking again.

'C'mon, Vanessa,' he thought, chewing his lip in silent panic.

As if after the passing of hours, the door swung open. Vanessa was dressed as usual, in purple dress with the cloak, and spiraled hair. "Ready for work?" she asked him with clear eyes.

'You okay?' he mouthed noiselessly.

Her eyes widened momentarily and she nodded slightly. She turned to Knives, who was standing beside the window with arms crossed, looking awkward in the sunny room. "We're off for the day…I'll come by with lunch later. And I'll get some new books for you to read, if you'd like to stay in here while we're away." Smiling, she walked out the door and shut it softly behind her.

As they stepped down the creaky stairs for the main door, Vash glanced at her a few times, with a frown. He seemed to study her expression, to assess which words may be best to use.

Vanessa nudged him as they stepped onto the road. "Don't mope – you won't get tips if you look like that," she suggested cheerily.

"Seriously, are you alright?" he repeated, with bristled eyebrows and the edge of his lip in his teeth.

"Nothing happened; he's on edge as it is," she answered. "Like I told you, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"That only satisfies part of the question," Vash murmured, referring to the poignant tale she had revealed the day before. Again, he looked to her with a look of concern, more for her psyche than her scars.

"See? I open my mouth, and now you'll never look at me the same again," Vanessa sighed. "It took a while, but now I've moved past it. Please just drop it," she asked, touching his arm softly.

Vash made no friendly move in reply. "It's not in my nature to just forget about stuff like…that…"

She gritted her teeth and dropped the volume of her voice to a murmur. "Those encounters are all in the past now. And that particular instance was a half century ago. What, it wasn't what you wanted to hear?"

Attempting a reply, Vash stammered a little but was unable to form a response. He concentrated on establishing the right explanation for his thoughts. "Living for as long as we have, we've experienced a lot. Just because our bodies heal doesn't mean our minds can recover so easily."

"Easily? It took me five years until I could handle being around people again! Five long years," she repeated, her cheeks reddening. "So ask yourself, how long will it take you to see beyond those ordeals? Or will I always be 'used goods' in your eyes – a contaminated woman?" she whispered, recalling how men had reacted before.

Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, so he rubbed them away before they could run free. "C'mon, you know I'm not thinking that," he whined. "I thought you might want to talk to me about the bad stuff, you know? That's what you do when you care about someone…"

Vanessa softened at the comment, and doubted her course of argument. "I'm not angry with you, Vash," she said softly. "I get flustered, talking about this stuff. Your shift starts soon; you need to be your usual cheery self. Put it out of your mind, please?"

They stopped, standing beside the restaurant.

Taking a deep breath, Vash looked to her with bright eyes. "Next time we get the chance, I'd like to talk in private with you. It's kind of weird, here in the open…" he asked quietly, trying a smile.

She nodded, also attempting to grin, before waving good-bye and heading for the hospital. Recently, she had begun to feel a familiarity to Vash, brought to her attention by the kiss. Although there were more pressing things to concentrate on, she hoped that Vash would show that kind of warm affection still, and cast the past aside. After all, she would be ushering him to the rescue ships when they would soon arrive. They had only those months left, before they would say good-bye for good, and Vanessa would have to begin her life of charade with Knives on an otherwise barren Gunsmoke.

Knives paced back and forth in the small hotel room, waiting for Vanessa to catch onto his clumsy hints. Two and a half weeks of seclusion in this room had made him rather antsy, and Vanessa was struggling to keep him occupied with the books and foods. But at this time when Knives felt that he should need it most, she avoided being closer to him than she had before. She insisted on modesty and slept separate from him, not even allowing him to kiss her more than just at the lips. Such reserve had seemed endearing to begin with, but after so long he had become perturbed.

     He glanced to her, but she had busied herself with a stack of books.

Stopping, he gestured to his bed, using a far more direct tactic. "It really is cold at night; I wish you'd lay with me."

"The bed's too narrow, one of us would fall off," she muttered, looking up. "Besides, I just wouldn't feel right. I'm not ready for that sort of thing."

"And you'll BE ready WHEN?" he asked stubbornly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I thought…" He shuffled to her and crouched beside her, taking her hand in his strongly.

Vanessa gulped, and struggled to maintain her composure.

He put his hand behind her neck and craned her towards him, kissing her.

She allowed this, for it was brief.

"Now, tell me if you felt something more in that," he asked her. "Because when I'm near you like this, my pulse accelerates and I feel I want more. Even when you're gone, I think about things I've never bothered with before, and it's quite foreign for me," he explained, displaying his emotions in the only way he knew.

She nodded slightly and scrambled for a reply. "It's just not the same for me, since I'm a woman and you're a man. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's just easier for you to feel and think like that than it is for me. As a female, I wouldn't feel comfortable with certain…actions…unless I feel totally secure. Things are a bit too chaotic now. I can't force myself into it; you'll have to be patient with me. Please?" she asked, each word coated in sugar. She even rested her hand upon his cheek in a forced gesture of fake affection.

Knives tossed his head and heaved a sigh. "What kind of security? I'll wipe everyone else away – is that security?" he asked, growing further impatient. 'She won't make up her mind!' he thought.

     "Good God, no!" she exclaimed, caught off-guard.  "Traumatizing me won't help!  No; wait until they leave.  Peacefully.  Violence doesn't impress me, compassion and wisdom does," she added, describing Vash to a tee.  "Be patient for me.  Staying cooped up in here isn't helping – you should go out sometime.  We can all go to a nice restaurant; I could get tickets to a play or a concert; Vash and I got haircuts the other day, and we can take you to get one, too…" she suggested, holding out a 9 inch strand of hair from his head to emphasize the need.  His hair was the same length as Vash's now (Knives' hair looked the same as whenever Vash's hair was not spiked), and the visual similarity was confusing her.  She had hoped they would remain distinct from one another.  Nevertheless, Knives' resemblance to Vash now allowed her to most easily imagine him to, in fact, BE Vash.  Such a trick was handy whenever Knives insisted to cuddle or kiss her.

     "Alright," he replied, shuddering at the thought of being in close quarters with humans.  "So then, after they're gone, you'll bear my children?" he asked, as blunt as could be.

     Vanessa hesitated.  The skin of her face tingled coldly.  Remembering the odd duty she felt to humanity, she nodded, smiling.  "I will indeed," she choked out, secretly grinding her teeth to follow the words.

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