KONNICHIWA!: Yeh, I agree with you millyfan...R it is. And kudos to Sorrow...agh, you are perceptive! :sheepish grin: I realized that awhile back too. But was hoping no one would notice. Hee. Foolish, lazy one that I am. I try to nurse some elements so much that I completely neglect others. Like honestly, wouldn't Nick have asked her about the scar by now? I specifically remember thinking about that a few days ago, but copped out with a 'perhaps he's waiting until she's ready to talk about it'. I notice all kind of weaknesses in this story but try to slide by anyway. I'm really flattered when people point these things out though. It means you're paying attention. I've been meaning to throw the past I gave her back into play for awhile now(very soon in fact). But I'll try to be more diligent. So please keep reading and don't be afraid to bop me on the head if I need it! Thanx for the reviews all!

"Vash The Stampede...Nicholas Wolfwood, we'd like you to come with us."

Meryl stared down the barrel of the gun in true surprise. Talk about a bad call on her part.

While the other three just sat in shock, Nick threw on his trademark charm. "Say what? I'm just a minister! Of ill repute perhaps, but hey man I already paid for this chick!"

They leveled a gun at his face as well. "Cut the bullshit, jackass. It wasn't a request."

Hmm. Even dumber than they looked. A deadly smile cut across Nick's face as his boot quietly slid under one of the punisher's straps beneath the table. They just didn't know who they were messing with...

Milly clamped her hand tightly on his thigh and his leg froze. He cast an annoyed glance at her.

Her eyes gave a stern 'No'.

There was a brief mental standoff, but ultimately the cross did settle back onto the carpet. Nick sighed as she hugged to him in what the men perceived as fear, but he knew as gratitude.

Having no idea that the tall woman had just saved their lives, the punks kept on with their rude demands. "We said get up dammit! Both of you! Our boss would like to have a word..."

Vash perked up at that last part. Boss, huh? Maybe this was a lucky break after all. Much less fighting if someone was willing to lead them right to the head honcho. In fact, that had been one of his top three strategies. Looks like fate had decided for him. "Alright, alright you got us." He faked a perverted grin, pulling Meryl close. "Sorry baby, but it looks like I won't get to show you those moves I promised..."

She gave a disgusted look, jumping up. "Uh heh...poor me."

Nick stood up as big girl got off of him. Damn he hated the 'play dumb and let yourself get captured' bit. "Can I at least bring my luggage?"

They shoved him on with the barrels of their guns. "No! Now quit stalling!"

The leader narrowed his eyes at the Typhoon. "And as for you...hand me your revolver."

He smiled innocently. "Aw...now that's hardly fair. Promise to give it back?"

The man snatched it away with a grunt. "Just come with us, and don't try anything. We won't hesitate to kill either of you." With that, Vash began walking off with the entourage of guards as well.

The tall girl suddenly gave a loud cough, looking at the table when the priest cast a sly glance over his shoulder. But none of the men noticed Wolfwood mouth a silent 'Keep it'...as Vash was too busy providing distraction, loudly complementing them on their excellent gentlemen's club and lovely employees.

He moved from guard to guard, making conversation. "Man! Isn't that short one a total babe? You think if I'm good, your boss will let me have her for free later? Damn! Where do you find these girls?"

Meryl's eyebrow twitched as she turned her back. "He really does take it too far sometimes..."

Once they were out of sight, Milly pulled the abandoned punisher from its hiding place with a slight smile. "He actually listened to me..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Huh? Nothing. But what do we do now?"

The short girl sighed. "Well there's probably going to be some huge fight soon, so I say we get our guns and go help out."

Milly slid her right arm through the strap and lifted the heavy burden, letting it hang behind her. "Right."

The girls earned some justified stares as they casually wandered off together.

5 MINUTES LATER

On Tongari's insistence, the boys still hadn't played their cards and were now weaponless and tied up...sitting back to back on the floor of the boss's office, waiting for him to arrive. The priest decided to break the silence. "It's actually Nicholas D. Wolfwood."

The man examining the long colt paused. "What?"

"You forgot the D."

He bashed the preacher over the head with the Stampede's gun. "Shut up smart ass! I've had about enough of you!"

Nick growled and Vash prayed the priest wouldn't lose his temper this soon.

"Damn you two are annoying! Come on guys, can't we at least kill this one? He don't got no bounty! What the hell good is he anyway?"

Vash was actually a little disappointed. "Oh...is that all this is about? The stupid reward?"

Now it was his turn to get hit with his own .45. In fact he was still being hit when the boss finally decided to show up.

The long colt went clattering to the floor as the man holding it, suddenly crumpled over with two bullets in his arm.

The boss lowered his smoking revolver, taking a seat behind his desk in an overstuffed leather chair. "Quit acting like damned animals. I told you...these men are our guests."

Suddenly the lackeys were all business, even showing enough intelligence to bow slightly. "Please forgive us, Mr. Cortez!"

Hmph. One of the no nonsense, kill their own henchmen to make a point kind of guys. But how did he know their names? And where the hell did he get that revolver? Nick had never seen one like it. He shifted in the ropes. "So do you always treat your guests this kindly or are we just special?"

As most men with pompous attitudes usually are, the boss was a bit on the short side. His weight bore sign to an indulgent lifestyle, but he wasn't exceptionally fat either. With greasy hair, an expensive suit, and a cigar in his mouth...he fit the typical top dog profile. His lips contorted into a rodent like smile. "Please, dear boy. The restraints are mere formality. If you are truly whom I suspect then you could escape them at anytime anyway..."

Nick's eyes darkened as the last bits of his lighthearted side fell away. That tone. Cortez wasn't just talking about Vash. Could this man know who he really was? They'd been calling him Nicholas not Chapel though...

"Hmm. But something's missing. Where is it?" The boss's eyes gave a quick surveillance of the room.

"Something wrong sir?"

Cortez glared. "This man, the one in black. He had nothing with him?"

One of the men stepped forward, laying Wolfwood's pistol on the desk. "Uh...he had this in a shoulder holster under his jacket."

"No, no! This is crap! Nothing unique about it! A cross, he had no cross with him?"

Vash and Wolfwood both gave confused looks.

The men could tell when their leader was losing his patience. And generally, that meant someone would be bleeding in the next few minutes unless they solved the situation. "He...he did mention something about luggage, but we never saw any..."

"Idiots! Go back and search for it! Now!"

They jumped and a couple tore out the room. "YES SIR!"

Cortez turned his attention back to his captives on the floor. "Well gentlemen, I suspect you're becoming a tad curious by now. But you see, in reality this has nothing to do with you. Just something you have. Something I want."

Vash's face gave way to utter horror. "Meryl?"

The entire room stared at him and Wolfwood rolled his eyes. "He wants the long colt dumbass!"

"Oh." The Typhoon looked relieved for a second but blinked as the concept sunk in. "Wait, I need that too!"

He'd had enough of Needle Noggin's foolishness. Wolfwood flung his head back, effectively giving Vash a crack on the head with his own skull. "BE SERIOUS, DAMMIT!"

The blonde slumped over in a genuine daze and the boss continued. "Thank you. Now as I was trying to explain, I don't care about you two. And your assumptions are correct preacher. Besides being the wealthy proprietor of this fine establishment, I am also a collector. It's a hobby really, but one I take quite seriously." He pressed a button under his desk and the wall behind him moved away, exposing cases and cases of custom firearms. Cortez motioned to different models. "I collect one of a kinds, the beautiful to the down right strange. Be it practical or fanciful...as long it is unique. But how did I know about you two? Well that's simple. I'm sure you must remember a small town out in the Jersey, Oregon area? I would think that you would because between the two of you, you single handedly managed to defeat a gang of nearly 200 persons...a few of which were on my payroll. They told me all about the legendary outlaw's strange variation on the .45 long colt and a preacher's cross full of mercy." He glared at one of his men. "Hand it to me."

A man picked Vash's gun off the floor and put it in Cortez' hand. "Here, sir."

The boss leaned back in his chair, holding it up and admiring the way the light glinted off the gunmetal. "Beautiful...and not a scratch. You're lucky, Trent. I would've shot you if it had."

Trent gulped. Damn, it's not like he was even the one that dropped it.

Cortez went on. "But you know what intrigued me the most about the stories they told me? No one died. Not a single person...in all that gunfire. No one could pull something like that off unless they were trying to. You chose not to kill, so you simply didn't." He smiled in delight. "How accurate these weapons must be!"

Nick looked disgusted. What the hell was wrong with this guy? It's like the long colt was turning him on or something. He did not ever want to think of some pervert caressing his punisher that way.

Vash was now alert again, and seemed to be a bit disturbed by the whole scene as well. "That's all very flattering, but I just don't think I can give it away..."

He ignored the statement. "Who crafted this? I don't understand how it even fires. The hammer strikes at the top, but the barrel is at the bottom. How can the bullet discharge?"

The Typhoon was officially ready to go. They'd found out what the weirdo's interest in them was, and now it was time to do what they really came here for. Besides, Meryl was out there somewhere in that drool worthy red dress...and here he was listening to some old dude rattle off about Knives' science project. He answered anyway. "The hammer on the top doesn't actually connect, it just looks like does. There's one you can't see underneath...it's really what makes it fire."

Cortez blinked. "Amazing! Who thought of this?"

Vash smirked slightly. "A misguided friend of mine...that I plan on personally thanking sometime soon. Now I was gonna be polite and let you finish talking, but I can see you'll just keep droning on and on. And we've spent way too much time listening to you as it is..." The covering on The Stampede's left arm exploded away and the rope ripped apart at the sound of gunfire.

Nick jumped quickly away as the men returned fire. "ABOUT DAMN TIME!"

The girls rounded the corner and froze. Almost twenty men stood in the hallway, all looking up at the sound of their footsteps. Unfortunately, the guard Milly had nearly sterilized was among them and didn't have much trouble recognizing them...regardless of their new get up.

And in usual bandit eloquence, he was quick to express his feelings. "IT'S THEM! THE WHORE THAT BUSTED MY JEWELS AND THE BITCH THAT SHOT COREY!"

The two made a hasty retreat, completely abandoning all hope of retrieving their things. Meryl screamed in between gunshots. "WHAT NOW?"

Running in high heels and trying to lug this huge thing? Not working. Milly stumbled, kicking off her shoes and continuing barefoot after Meryl. "JUST KEEP RUNNING!"

"BUT WE HAVE NO IDEA WHERE WE'RE GOING!" Meryl's fears were realized when the girls took one left too many...ending up at a dead end. The short girl barely stopped in time, uttering a profanity as she glared at the wall. Great. Just great.

They turned as the group rounded up behind them.

Meryl gave one last desperate attempt to be diplomatic. "Now come on gentlemen, is this all really necessary?" They all aimed their weapons and she sighed. Apparently it was.

Milly knew what had to be done, but she was honestly afraid. A gun like this wasn't something you just picked up and fired. It was almost like a wild animal. It took skill and understanding to truly control. Things that came with time. Time they just didn't have.

The short girl went wide-eyed as Milly released the strap and swung the punisher around in true Wolfwood fashion.

The men took a couple steps back, not sure what to make of this latest development.

Dang this felt awkward. She took a wider stance to help keep her balance. Her right hand had a grip on the skull trigger while her left supported the open machine gun end. How he did this with one hand, she hadn't the faintest. Milly took her matter of fact tone with them. "Okay look...we don't want to kill anyone, but we're not just gonna stand here and get shot either. And despite appearances, you guys are completely outgunned. So why don't we just call it a day?"

Meryl nodded. "That's right. Remember how I didn't hesitate to shoot? Well that's a machine gun, and neither will she. Trust me...best to just walk away now guys."

In any other town it probably would have ended right there, the men cutting their losses and the girls taking off to freedom. But in this setting, a woman's threats had no meaning. Regardless of how much heat she was packing, all they saw was a bitch that needed to be taught a lesson. A girl who'd forgotten her place in the scheme of things. Men did not lose to little girls...at least not in this town.

Milly blinked as they cocked their guns. Were they suicidal? Her stomach fluttered...God, she hoped she had her finger on the right trigger. What would the kick be like? She did not want to kill them. "Get behind me, Sempai."

The short girl had no weapons, and no way to assist. She grudgingly stepped behind her partner.

And at that moment, more than any other time, just as the trigger began to give way...she realized how insane it all really was. Here she stood. Milly Thompson, a self-professed simple farm girl...scantily clad and barefoot in a mansion of prostitutes with a huge cross shaped machine gun/rocket launcher resting on her right hip. An insurance agent by profession, the orphan of a famous bounty hunter/criminal, the girlfriend of Chapel The Evergreen, the best friend of Derringer wielding workaholic Meryl Stryfe, and a stalker of the Humanoid Typhoon Vash The Stampede...honestly, only on Gunsmoke.