Post-manga; contains spoilers.

I do not own Trigun / Vash or Livio. They belong to the amazing Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

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Stampede Run

Year 150 month 9 day 16

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Livio stood by the Sheriff's office in December in the last light of the setting suns, glaring at the wanted poster still proclaiming a price on the head of Vash the Stampede.

Some nut was running around the outskirts of town, claiming he was the humanoid typhoon. Livio knew the real Vash would never stoop to highway robbery. He'd been hunting said nut, wanting to clear Vash's name, but he kept being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Today had been another long, frustrating day of not finding the nuisance. Perhaps he was merely growing too old to be effective. His rapid aging had stopped when he no longer used the medical vials from the Eye of Michael, but that didn't prevent the natural march of the years from leaving their traces on his body.

35 years had passed since he fought Crimson Nails, since the day that he would have died if Vash had not killed Legato. He was still grateful for that, though he also felt guilty for the pain it had caused.

He still wasn't sure why they put a price on the man's head. Vash had only ever done his best to help, and had nearly died from it several times. He'd saved the whole doggoned planet, for pity's sake. He'd risked his life, again, to stop Knives' efforts to raise the Plants against the humans.

It seemed to Livio that Vash had earned the right to have a little peace in his life.

Livio himself had enjoyed many years of quiet anonymity, working at the orphanage where Wolfwood died. He'd been blessed again when Milly came there to mourn their mutual friend, and stayed on to help with the children... and, eventually, had become his wife.

He smiled, still marveling at that miracle. His thoughts flickered back over their years together, from their first awkward meeting until the present, and he smiled. Milly was amazing. He still adored her even though she, too, was growing old and grey.

Their children had scattered, but returned to visit with the grandchildren. There were still the orphans to look after, so plenty of little ones about to help them all remain young at heart.

Yes, he had enjoyed a good life since Knives' defeat. He gave most of the credit for that to Nicholas and Vash. Without their influence, he might still be trapped within the Eye of Michael.

It had grown dark while his thoughts wandered. The moons had risen, shedding their softer light over the town and the surrounding desert.

The sound of a footstep roused him from his musings. Instinctively, he turned toward the sound and saw that, except for the other and himself, the streets were deserted. How long had he been standing there lost in thought?

"Hello Livio," a familiar voice said.

"Vash!" he almost impulsively hugged the man, but there was something large draped over his shoulder.

"Not too loud," Vash said. Livio could hear amusement in his friend's voice. "Would you be so kind as to help me lower this fellow gently to the ground?"

Livio simply did as he was asked, not wasting time with words. The man Vash carried was wearing a red coat, had his hair spiked, and was thoroughly tied up with rope.

"You caught the impostor," Livio observed.

"Yes," Vash said. "He won't be troubling anyone else for awhile. The sheriff should keep him locked up long enough for him to learn the error of his ways."

Livio nodded and watched as Vash knelt and pulled out a paper and pen. He craned his neck to se what was being written, and then groaned.

"A Vash or not a Vash; that is the question," the note read. The large black capitol letters showed plainly in the moonlight.

Vash chuckled. "Well, the notes can't all be outstanding," he said.

Livio chuckled in turn. There was something infectious about Vash's laugh. "I suppose not," he agreed. "Hey, want to come to the orphanage? I'm sure Milly would be pleased to see you, too. We could have a few laughs over old times, and you could sleep there comfortably."

"That sounds nice," Vash said. Then he glanced pointedly toward the wall with the wanted posters. "However, I really should keep moving."

"I don't think anyone at the orphanage would turn you in," Livio said darkly.

"Perhaps not," Vash said, "but why tempt them? Meryl already guessed I might be the one dealing with my impostors. Others might make the same guess. I don't want to give anyone a reason to come sniffing around the orphanage and endangering you, Milly or the children."

"So you've seen Meryl recently?" Livio asked, sidestepping the subject. "How is she?"

"We didn't speak," Vash said. "However, she and her husband both seemed fine. That was two years ago, when I stopped a different impostor."

"Are you sure I can't talk you into coming over, even for a little while?" Livio asked hopefully.

"Best I not stick around," Vash replied. "I'll visit his grave another time."

"All right," Livio said. He could understand, but he was disappointed.

"It was good to see you again," Vash said, extending a hand.

Livio shook it. "It was good to see you, too."

Vash nodded, and then turned and walked away. Livio watched him until he walked out of sight around the corner of a building. Then he sighed.

He should go home to the orphanage, before Milly got too worried about him.