DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

"This was not what was supposed to happen!" Vash pointed to the handprint that still resided on his cheek.

"Obviously not," Wolfwood commented, arms resting on his legs as he sat on his bed. "And now Meryl's on my back for two hundred double-dollars I don't have. Thanks, buddy."

Derisive snort. "You shouldn't have bet money you didn't have."

"I'm a traveling priest trying to support a struggling orphanage, and it was an easy bet! Until she chose you, you sap."

"What, it's my fault she's pretty?"

Wolfwood gave his own derisive snort. "Pretty to you."

A blush spread over Vash's face.

Wolfwood sighed. "I don't know what went wrong. It works fine for me. I can only guess you crossed the line."

Vash's mouth quirked. "What line?"

The priest shook his head and started patting himself for a smoke. "There's a fine line between carelessly cocky and jerk. Inexperienced in picking up women as you are, I wouldn't be surprised to find out you came off as a jerk.

"Then again, Meryl might be one of those few that wants more than what cocky guys offer. You know, the ones that when they say 'I love you,' they want you to echo them instead of saying 'I know.' Something wrong with people like that."

Vash sat on his own bed. "What's wrong with telling someone you love them if you do?"

Wolfwood gave up the search, switched to looking in the nightstand for a pack. Found a rolling kit and responded as he took out a paper and sprinkled tobacco. "You know this world. You know the kind of lives guys like you and I live. We could die any day."

"Doesn't that make it more important to love?"

Gazed at him levelly. "You really think it's right for people like us to promise someone a future when we can't guarantee we'll deliver? I keep it casual and cocky, because no woman should be a young widow."

"That's why you haven't done anything about Milly?" Vash had noticed the way Wolfwood's glances occasionally lingered for a second, and always wondered why the priest didn't act.

Good thing Wolfwood had finished rolling his cigarette, because he froze as it was his turn to blush. "She's not – I'm – yeah," he admitted with a sigh. "I won't hurt her like that. Or anyone else. I keep it casual; they can find someone else to love, who won't get them killed or bleed to death in their arms."

Vash laid back, hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling shadows cast by the room's lamplight. Thought about Wolfwood's words. Listened to the rain outside.

Wolfwood struck a match and lit his smoke. Went and stood by the window, looking out at the falling rain as it hit the glass. If it kept up much longer, pretty soon there were going to be songs about love lost in the rain. They probably would be about Vash and Meryl.

"I want something more," Vash declared at last. "I want Meryl. I want to make her promises and keep them." Certainty rang in his voice.

Smoke blew as Wolfwood turned and looked at him. "Are you sure? Absolutely positive?"

The ace-gunman-who-was-not-an-ace-with-women sat up. "I am."

Wolfwood pulled him up and pushed him to the sink. "Then get cleaned up, you romantic fool. You've got a woman to make a promise to, and after the way you messed up, I don't think she'll wait forever."

"I messed up? But you're the one who said to –"

"Stop trying to make this about me, Spikey! Hurry and get cleaned up!"

"Why are you being helpful, anyway?" Vash asked as he ran the water and lathered up for a shave.

"Because the sooner you fix things, the sooner Meryl gets off me about that damn bet!"

And because at least one of us should have the future he wants.