CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont3)

"Now THOSE are some folks I don't remember!" the sister, visiting from out of town, commented to the local woman as they hung clothes on a line in the alley. She pointed in the direction of three tall blondes that just joined the line outside the ice cream parlor across the way.

"Oh yeah," the woman replied, pulling the clothespin out of her mouth. "Now, there's quite a story there! They came in outta nowhere a few months ago. The girl, Vanessa, she works down at the hospital. Quite a brain, she is. Melinda, she works there too, says that once in a while that girl'll go alone to visit patients the doctors gave up on, and they recover right away. Dunno how she does it, but it makes the doctors jealous – she's just a trainee! They say she just sits next to the person, looks in that thick ole book of hers. I think it's a Bible. Mr. Jenson went in to the hospice when his cancer took over, had like two weeks to live, but soon as she came along he's been healthy as a horse! Creepy, huh?"

The sister nodded. "Dressed funny, ain't she?"

"Well, yeah, but somehow that low-cut thing doesn't look so slutty on her as it could. Thin as could be, she is. Acts so old, but look at her – not a day over twenty, I think. But, bless her heart, she supports the other two. Brothers. Worthless."

"But the one looks wealthy!" the sister exclaimed, pointing to the shorter-haired man in slacks, an expensive tie, and a dress shirt. "Son of a millionaire?"

"Nah, not at all! Girl says he's a reclusive writer; says he's working on a novel and doesn't like to talk to people. Talks with these big words and walks around like he can't stand anybody. You know those artist types."

"Yeah, had a cousin like that."

"Well, she hangs on him whenever they're out, going to dinner and stuff. Guess it's love; why else would she waste her time? The salary she's making now buys his clothes, and feeds the lot of them. And the other brother, well they're identical twins, but the other one's nothin' like the first! Always with that weird coat of his, and his arm all wrapped in black stuff…He's a waiter at the Blue Crab, but they're always near firing him - he's always out playing with the kids. Lets 'em boss him around during his breaks. Real irresponsible. Nice kid, but I think he's mentally…you know, retarded."

"Ah, yeah, I see it," the sister agreed. "Sad case, huh?"

The woman nodded, watching the trio collect their desserts and walk away. "Weirdest folks I seen."

Chuckling as she watched Vash tackle the three-scoop cone with sprinkles, Vanessa waved hello to the two women hanging the laundry. "I could hear people talking about us just now," she whispered when out of earshot.

"Huh? What'd they say?" Vash asked, struggling to keep his ice cream from toppling.

Knives grumbled something, staring steady ahead with Vanessa entwining his left arm, as always.

Holding her ice cream in her right hand, right arm still wrapped about Knives', Vanessa let her left arm loose momentarily, to touch the scarf at her forehead. She wore her hair down these days, with a scarf pinned like a headband to cover her ears. "Well I couldn't hear everything, but it was still pretty funny," she replied. She could often overhear conversations with no effort that others could not, since her hearing was piqued even through the scarf. "They said I'm good at my job, and that Knives looks intelligent," she continued, summarizing as kindly as possible.

Knives sniggered.

Vash looked up with eyes widened in interest. "What'd they say about me?" he asked innocently.

"Um," Vanessa began, thinking for an avenue that wouldn't hurt his feelings. "They said that you play with the children…" Her straight face was broken when a giggle broke free.

"What? What is it?" Vash requested, looking slightly concerned.

Vanessa looked to him with good humor. "They think you're mentally disabled," she said as seriously as possible, with sympathy in her eyes.

Vash frowned and kicked the dirt before him. "Aw, man," he whined.

Knives cleared his throat. "Damn. They found out," he said complacently.

Vanessa stopped in her tracks, mouth hanging open.

Vash and Knives stopped in surprise at her action.

She began to laugh, tears in her eyes, and her grip on Knives loosened.

Despite efforts to remain stoic, Knives began to chuckle. A smile spread across his face.

Then it hit Vash as well. Knives had made a joke! Amazing! Vash smiled, shaking his head in embarrassment at the comment. "Jerk," he muttered, grinning.

"Vash the Stampede, you son of a bitch!" a gruff voice screamed from behind them.

Continuing to walk forward, Vash ignored him.

But Knives whirled around so quickly that Vanessa lost her grip on his arm. She rushed to his side again to wrap about his left arm. One hand wound to his shoulder, the other to his hand.

The others on the street stood gawking at the scene, frightened yet murmuring that perhaps he truly was THAT Vash…

"Look me in the eyes, coward!" the man yelled, cocking a shotgun and taking aim.

The ice cream cone shattered and flew from Vash's hand, splattering on the dusty ground and at the edges of his red coat. He stopped and turned, but looked at the man as if he was amazed.

"How dare you threaten him, you insect," Knives growled, his face and body calm as if there was no danger. His left arm alone moved, shaking Vanessa away.

But she clung tighter, digging her fingers into his underarm, below the shoulder. This, she knew, would cut off the circulation in his deadly arm.

Vash looked about to cry. "Who are you? I don't understand," he whimpered.

"Don't play dumb with me! You may not look like a Humanoid Typhoon to these folks, but I see through you!" the man yelled, his face red to contrast his salt and pepper hair. "And I'm finally going to avenge their deaths. Remember July, you bastard!" he screamed, blasting a shot at Vash's chest.

Hiding an expert dodge as the stumble of a fool, Vash fell backward. "Ow," he whined loudly, rubbing his backside as he stood slowly.

"Shoot him, you idiot!" Knives commanded his brother.

Vash again looked dumbfounded. "But it's for shooting targets, not people!" he argued with a childlike innocence, gesturing to the gun at his side.

"I know it's you – your name is Vash! You look like him, and you're wearing his coat! Carrying his gun! Pretending you're a moron won't save you today!"

"But I found them in the desert! I gave them to him, he's not…" Vanessa protested, fear in her voice.

The man hesitated, and took aim again, babbling incoherently about lost loved ones and years of attempting to track the Stampede down.

Knives attempted to pry Vanessa's fingers away. "Let go," he snarled, growing impatient with this insolent human.

Vash stood limp as the man's finger tensed on the trigger.

A loud bang rang in the street, and dust flew. Women shrieked.

As the cloud lifted, the man lay in the dust with a concussion. Vash had pulled his gun, shot three times, and put it in its holster so quickly that no one saw. The shots had knocked an awning from a window above the man, and the heavy thing had crashed upon the man's head enough to knock him unconscious. Careful not to create actual bullet holes in the awning, Vash was able to hide the feat.

"Lucky that old thing came loose," a man said aloud, "or that dumb ass would be toast!"

Vash loudly asked Knives and Vanessa if they could go home and Vanessa nodded, speaking comfort to him in a motherly tone.

"Why did you…I could've…" Knives stammered, furious.

Vanessa loosened her grip just a bit and looked to him with saucer-shaped eyes. "I…I was scared," she deceptively stammered.

"It's better to settle things this way," Vash murmured, flexing his fingers.

Knives frowned. "That was sloppy," he sneered, letting Vanessa pull him along.

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