Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun or any of its characters... happy?

Originally, this was published sometime in 2003; I was planning to continue from where I left off when I realized how ghastly my writing was three years ago! xD

So, for your speculation and entertainment, I've decided to rewrite this lovely Trigun fic, (which is, in fact, my first.) I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and I'll know what to fix and what to continue if you review! (nudgewink)

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"Checker King"

All in the saloon was silent.

The only noises were the creaks of the wooden floor as people shifted their weight, the chinks of drinks being set on tables, and the 'tapping' noises of nervous, restless feet.

Everyone in the saloon was crowded around a single table - even the bartender, who should have been making drinks - where two occupants sat facing each other. The
man was rather tall and threatening; his veined arms were bulging with muscle, and his violet eyes were vicious. Even his hair - black and sleek with grease- made people grow apprehensive.

Sitting opposite this savage man wasn't some bounty hunter or a legendary gang leader, like some might have assumed; in fact, the one occupying the other chair didn't seem extraordinary in any sense. But while the man's fierceness scared people off, there was something about the tall woman that drew customers in like spiders to a fluttering moth.

It wasn't her reddish blonde hair; after all, light tints were expected under the constant surveillance of the Twin Suns. It definitely wasn't her skin, even if was fair and aging women would die for its youthful appearance. Perhaps it was the single, defined black streaks in her bangs - they seemed so out of place compared to her otherwise normal appearance.

Sweat dripped down the man's forehead and his violet eyes were screwed up in concentration.

His brown hands were shaking ever so slightly and he swallowed a bit more then normal humans. The woman's brow was furrowed, and she was tapping her lips with a black-gloved finger. Both of them were thinking hard, but the man seemed terribly anxious while the woman simply puzzled; both eyes were looking down onto the table. Was it a battle of wills? An arm wrestling match? Or …

Maybe...

A game of checkers?

"Aha, I got your king! I win, I win!" The woman whooped, leaping up from her seat with a wide grin on her face. Her knees bumped the table, sending checker pieces everywhere, but no one noticed.

The tension that was in the saloon ceased and the people began to disperse from the table, either grinning at the prospect of winning a bet or sulking for losing it. The bartender himself looked disappointed, and he was forced to shovel a couple of double dollars to a smirking costumer. The fierce man looked utterly shocked at the results of the game, and he stood up.

"How do I know ya didn't cheat, eh?" The man said in a sonorous voice, his eyes
narrowing at his competition. The woman, who was guzzling a drink in victory, looked at the man quizzically.

"How can you possibly cheat in checkers? It's chess you have to look out for, even if I don't know heads or tails of the game!" A few people chuckled as they sipped their drinks, while the woman heaved a small bag onto her shoulder to preparation to leave.

"I know yeh cheated!" The man pounded a huge fist onto the table, breaking it in two; the mighty CRACK that followed could have wakened the dead. A few people gasped and
gave the man dirty looks, while others muttered "poor sport" under their breath as they hurried out the door.

"I neva lose in checkas! And don't none of ya leave, cuz this is gonna be a stick up!"

The tension came back almost as soon as it left, but it brought along something else; dread.
Everyone froze in there spots, and their eyes became huge as the man pulled out a weapon.

Calling it a gun would've been an understatement - it resembled a miniature rocket, unfortunately with a trigger attached. It wasn't facing the people, predictably, but the woman. Maybe it was a trick of their minds, but most thought she looked quite calm … almost curious.

"Now, tell meh how ye cheated, missy, or I'll blow ya and dis play ta shreds!" He snarled, unattractive strings of saliva coming from his mouth. Obviously this man was a sore loser, and perhaps only God knows why such a dim-wit decided to play a heated game of checkers. But why wouldn't that woman admit she cheated and let them be? All of the people shifted their somewhat accusatory gaze to the man's target, hoping against hope they'd be alive to see the result of this fight …

After a single glace at her, however, those thoughts of doubt were blown from their heads. Her white dress shirt intensified her black stripes with the contrast,
making her appear much more menacing then before. The grin that was at her lips was replaced with a frown, and she was reaching to her side.

"You know, people don't like poor sports." She tugged at something in her shoulder bag, and suddenly a long, lean, black crossbow was perched in her unwavering hands.

A foreboding silver arrow lay ready to be shot; its sharp point looked eager to dig itself into the man's skin.

"Or maybe that's just me."

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-Authors notes-

Phew! That didn't take too long, I'm proud to announce. :) I'm hoping my next chapter will be up sometime this weekend, because only God knows how I'd find time during the week. I have horrible timing with stories; 2 weeks before finals! Gah!

Please read, review, criticize, and do the hula!