Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, compliments, and suggestions. As for Vash's broomhead goofy side, it's coming. I was planning for it to be in this update, but this part of the story took a little more room than I had expected. And I guess I have been spelling Spikey wrong, so thanks for the correction. According to "spell check" it should be "Spiky" but according to the manga, it should be "Spikey". As for Wolfwood and Millie's relationship suggestion, let me just say that there are other reasons… but I'll see what I can do.

SMACK!

Vash slapped his money on the dark surfaced counter. Finally. Finally, he was at the front of the line. He had waited for a half an hour- and been butted twice- to make it to the front of this line, and now that he was here, he wasn't going to waste a second.

"Can I help you sir?" The woman was much too enthusiastic. Her blinding white teeth reflected the room's lighting and were framed by her vibrant cherry red lips.

"I need a Sandsteamer ticket for today at 11:00." Vash explained, trying to keep urgency out of his voice.

"Today at 11:00 am?" The woman asked, still smiling.

"Yes. Please."

The sugar-coated woman placed her elbows on the counter and stared into Vash's eyes. Her index finger found a loop in her luscious blond hair a convenient way to dispense energy. The loop twirled around, tempting Vash's eyes with distraction.

"Hmmm…" She said.

Thick like a bag of vanilla-soiled cotton balls, the essence of her perfume lingered under the gunman's nose.

Impatiently, Vash drummed the top of his double dollar bill.

The woman caught the hint and the over exaggerated smile returned. "Oh yes, we sold out."

"What!" He demanded. "But I need- When?"

"I think that old man that was in front of you bought our last one."

Er! That old codger! Vash knew he shouldn't have let him cut, but the old man was so old that he probably didn't even see Vash there. Then again… how could he miss him? It wasn't exactly easy to overlook a huge red coat.

"Please, isn't there any? I'll pay you double the price!"

The woman's plastic face had a flickering twitch at this suggestion- it was light, like a slight flutter of wings. Locking her fingers, she rested her chin on her knuckles.

"I'd like to help, but I can't sell you something that's doesn't exist." Then she lowered her voice. "It's against our mission statement, not to mention how much commotion there would be at having an extra passenger."

"But this is an emergency."

"I wish I could help." She smiled, and then called out for the next person in the line.

After grabbing his money, Vash was pushed out of the way by a middle-aged man. Slowly he made it back out of the small frugal building and into the sunlight. Sighing, he flipped his sunglasses on. The sky was very sunny with light refreshing breezes; it couldn't have reflected his mood any less. On his way back to the rickety old hotel, he pondered of other optional routes he and the girls could take. He knew that the bus didn't go straight to the city, but maybe they could get off somewhere else and hook onto the route at a different bus stop. Perhaps they could get thomases…but that was more trouble than it was worth, the animals would require a lot of attention, and they would have the burden of supplying them with food.

Once he had climbed the creaking stairs of the hotel, he pushed the insurance girls' door open. Their luggage was placed neatly against the adjacent wall. Millie was writing on a paper at the table, and Meryl had just removed her high school yearbook from the under its short leg.

"Hullo, Mr. Vash," Millie chirped. "Are you about ready to leave?"

Vash proceeded to retell the events of his morning, and did so with bravery. Every word that left his mouth seemed to sour Meryl's expression, until it looked like someone had slipped her a lemon when she was expecting an orange. Finally he finished with a sigh to express his disappointment.

Meryl went ballistic.

"Vash! Why didn't you tell us you hadn't bought a ticket? We would have bought you one when we bought ours days ago!"

"You already have yours?" Vash asked with surprise.

"Of course we already have ours- you waited the morning of! Uugh!" Meryl gripped her hair. "I can't believe you procrastinated so long!"

"But I always buy the tickets the morning of," Vash answered in a quiet voice.

"What are you going to do?" Meryl asked. She was pacing now, her sleek legs rushed back and forth in front of the table. The table wobbled every time she walked passed its weak side.

Millie continued to write her letter, despite the table's sea-like swaying.

"You could get a ride with Mr. Wolfwood. I'm sure he would let you if you asked." She said.

Meryl froze and turned to look at Vash. That was it. That was the only option. The spark in her eyes revealed her opinion to Vash before the words left her mouth. Like an ominous overcast, an earlier accusation to the Priest entered Vash's mind. He couldn't ask that Priest for a ride! The Priest would never let it go!

"You have to ask him," Meryl said, her eyes were wide and glistening.

"No way! I can't ask him for a ride, not after I rubbed it in his face!" Vash cried.

Meryl lowered her eyebrows at the gunman. "You better ask him. You'll have to eat your words." she concluded.

"His room is down the hall passed two rooms," Millie mentioned.

Vash knew this already, but he enjoyed the comment to buy him more time for an excuse. He grasped the perfect one, but when he turned to Meryl to express it, he immediately changed his mind. She was glaring at him. Her icy expression seemed to suffocate the outlaw insomuch that he found himself departing the room in silence. Grudgingly he shuffled for the Priest's door. When he raised his hand to knock, the Priest spoke.

"Come in, Hun, it's unlocked."

With teeth clenched, Vash turned and opened the door.

The Priest's room, Vash's room, and the girls' room were supposed to be identical (and maybe they were at one time), but because of poor care, they each owned their individuality. For example, in Wolfwood's room the carpet was somehow peeling away from the ground, his dresser drawer didn't shut, and the lighting buzzed like some kind of insect. The noise was very irritating, and Vash was thankful it wasn't an attribute of his own room, or else he may have gone insane by now.

Wolfwood was crouched over a dull green unzipped bag and putting a can of shaving cream in the inside pocket. His jacket was hanging over the back of a chair and his cross was sinking into the bed.

"I'm just about ready when-" He turned. "Spikey? Hey, knock before you just walk in here! Does this place look open to the public, where's the privacy!"

"You told me to come in!" Vash answered.

"I didn't tell you, I thought you were Millie." He growled and zipped up the bag with more force than necessary. His hand left the zipper and he looked back to Vash with a sly gleam in his eye. "Which remind me," he stepped closer to Vash, displaying a mischievous smile. "How's Meryl these days?"

Vash stared back into Wolfwood's beetle black eyes inanimately.

"Keh. Spikey, you wanted advice, and yet you still haven't taken it. Isn't it about time you did something with your life?" Wolfwood asked.

"I do stuff with my life! A lot more than profiting off confessionals!" Vash answered defensively. "And anyway, I never asked for advice, you just started spilling your experiences out to me."

"So you didn't ask out loud, but you were thinking about it. Admit it; you were eating up everything that came out of my mouth that night." Wolfwood pointed an intimidating index finger at the outlaw.

"I didn't come here to discuss that night. Or Meryl, or any of this grocery business." Vash exclaimed. He was tired of this abundant topic with the Priest, he was beginning to think it was Wolfwood's second favorite pass time (first being Millie).

"Alright," Wolfwood said, trying to conceal the itch to smile at Vash's words. "What are you here for?"

Vash's eyes found the large cross displayed on the bed. The bed seemed to bend under its weight, in fact, Vash was surprised it hadn't already snapped due to its poor quality. Then he wondered if anyone in the other rooms had been listening to them.

"Ssssspppiiiiikkkeeeeyy….?"

"Ineedaride."

The words were out so quickly, Wolfwood didn't catch anything other than "I". When Vash looked at him with such a serious expression, the Priest decided the information was something important.

"What?" Wolfwood asked, staring at Vash. His eyebrows curved in confusion.

"I need a ride…to get to the reunion…" Vash said again. "The Sandsteamer tickets are all sold out."

Wolfwood stared at him and blinked. "Did you just ask me for a ride?"

Vash hesitated and then resulted to a nod.

Wolfwood stared at Vash squarely in his aqua eyes, and Vash dared stare back. Then, ignoring the question entirely, Wolfwood turned back to the chair and pulled his black jacket off. In silence the Priest slipped one arm- two arms in it and readjusted it to fit his shoulders. The added clothing made him look cleaner, sharper, and judging by his appearance, it seemed unlikely that he contained as terrible a malady as smoking. And yet the package of cigarettes was placed comfortably in his pant pocket. Wolfwood's hand found the box and fingered it open. Without his eyes, his fingers relieved the box of a cigarette while his other hand searched for the midnight blue lighter. The Priest lit the cigarette and began his regimen with a deep breath. Vash watched him inhale the chemicals, still waiting for an answer. Wolfwood exhaled the smoke slowly and put away the lighter. Before picking up his deep dull green bag, he sighed.

"I don't have any other way of getting there…" Vash said.

"You're coming?" Wolfwood asked. He avoided looking at Vash, and instead rested his eyes on the corner of the room where a tan stain lived

"Of course I'm coming! I have to go!"

Wolfwood put the cigarette up to his lips again. "Well, I'm not taking you." He glanced at Vash. "You know, I think we've had this conversation before. Something about a certain someone not wanting my company when he traveled."

Vash grumbled something.

"What was that?" Wolfwood asked.

"I was only joking," Vash said.

"Were you?" Wolfwood left the chair and moved to the bed on the west side of the room. He pulled up the large cross and secured it on his back. Then he deliberately marched passed the outlaw and out the door. "I think there's only one seat."

"There's plenty of room," Vash insisted, following Wolfwood out the door.

"Well, I don't know, Spiky, with all this stuff I have."

"I'll put it on my lap." Vash volunteered.

Wolfwood continued his journey towards the stairs, Vash walking in his wake. They walked over an area of the floor that creaked loudly every time weight was pressed down on it. This spot had been particularly distracting when hotel occupants returned to their room very late. Hopefully it would be one of the last times their shoes would hit it.

"Please Wolfwood! Please!"

"I'll consider it," Wolfwood answered, and waved his hand around.

"When will you be done thinking about it?" Vash asked and they reached the stairs.

Wolfwood stopped at the edge of the first step. He paused and then removed his cigarette. It was a long way to get to the bottom.

"How about we make a deal?"

"What kind of deal?" Vash asked slowly with a hint of suspicion. He could smell and almost taste the smoke that drifted behind the Priest. Personally, he didn't find it very pleasant.

Wolfwood dropped the cigarette and stepped on it until the fiery glow had disappeared. Then the Priest turned to Vash with another sly half smile. "I want you to kiss her."

"What? But I…"

"What's wrong? You went grocery shopping with her, didn't you? A little kiss can't be much, just a package of jello in comparison. So I want you to kiss her."

"By when?" Vash asked.

Wolfwood resisted the itch to exercise his face muscles again; the outlaw was turning a very light red. "By the end of the high school reunion."

Vash was doing a terrible job at concealing his emotions. He shifted uneasily as negative ideas flashed through his head. He gave Wolfwood one little distorted truth about grocery shopping, and the Priest had to go and turn it into something more realistic. That's when it occurred to Vash that if he could somehow be sly enough, maybe he could get a ride and accomplish the task- at least in the Priest's eyes. Wolfwood had never specified where the kiss was to be planted. Best agree to the deal before anymore ideas hatched in the Priest's distorted mind.

"Yeah, alright." Vash agreed.

Wolfwood raised an eyebrow, not pleased with Vash's tone. The Priest knew Vash only to well. He was lying, still lying. It was evident by the blush across his face.

Just then they heard a door open and shut, but Wolfwood continued to study Vash.

"You have the room key?" It was Meryl, she and Millie were leaving. And Vash was wondering what he and Wolfwood were doing just standing at the top of the stairs.

"Oh no! I think I left it inside the room!" Millie said.

"Oh well, don't worry about it, I'm sure they have a spare at the front desk."

"Here it is! I found it, it was in my pocket."

Vash heard them walking towards the stairs. He looked back anxiously at Wolfwood.

"You're going to kiss Meryl?" Wolfwood asked.

"SH!" Vash hushed. He brought his index finger to his lips.

"Vash, I want to hear you say those words!" Wolfwood said loudly. He was enjoying this, and at the moment Vash hated everything about the Priest from his large cross to his enormous mouth.

"Shut up!" Vash hissed.

Wolfwood grinned. "Oh Me-ryl!" He said in a sing-song voice. "Vash has something for you! I think it could be some kind of gelatin!"

Vash attempted to flatten Wolfwood's lips against his tonsils. The gunman slapped his palm over the Priest's mouth with an excess amount of energy and drive, as the insurance girls neared them. They teetered for a moment on the stairs, but thankfully regained their balance. Meryl did not look pleased at the sight.

"What are you two doing?" She demanded. "If you're ever going to make it there, you have to at least try to leave before us!"

Wolfwood's sly smirk was finally gone and replaced with angry eyes on Vash. Vash on the other hand was still red. Since neither of them could find an answer, Meryl continued.

"I assume Wolfwood is giving you a ride…" Meryl's eyes landed on Wolfwood. "Isn't he?"

Vash felt the Priest give a nod.

"Good, then there's no time to waste. We'll meet you at the inn."

"Bye Mr. Priest!" Millie waved and they began to depart down the stairs carrying bags of luggage.

Vash and Wolfwood stood still, Vash's hand still smashed over the Priest's mouth.

Once the girls reached the next landing, they turned and began their journey down another flight of stairs in the opposite direction.

Vash let out a sigh that was interrupted by a sharp pain in his hand. "Ow!" He said, and pulled it away. His hand throbbed and several rigid marks were imprinted across his skin. "Did you just bite me?"

"Eh! Your hand tastes disgusting!" Wolfwood growled. He made a light choking sound and began wiping his tongue clean with his own hands.

"Don't be so dramatic," Vash grumbled. He was sure his hand couldn't taste any worse than that cigarette Wolfwood enjoyed so much.

When Wolfwood had finished, he asked if Vash was planning to go get his luggage any time soon.

"You're going to let me come?" Vash asked.

"You agreed to the deal, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm sure glad I didn't. Meryl's pissed."