Reflections

A/N: Ahh! I really like this chapter! Alot! I hope you guys do too. It’s the one that I have been dying to write for a while now. It sort of jumps around, but that’s just how I like stories told, so that’s how I tell them. Sorry if it’s confusing. Read. Review. Thanks to everyone who’s been so nice. Any suggestions, of course, are appreciated.

**Do not own Trigun. Do not sue Jessica. Not making money. Wish I was. Am not.

Reflections, Chapter 6: Gunsmoke

--The first day--

Nicholas’ gun ground into the delicate skin of Vash’s neck. Vash’s gun was gently pressed against the priest’s chest.

**Come on, come on, come on.**

“Come on.”

Vash stared him straight in the eyes, shaded blue unflinchingly boring a hole into his soul. The blonde man said nothing, in fact Wolfwood was sure he couldn’t even hear him breathe.

“Come on!” Wolfwood barked hoarsely. “Do it!”

“Why are you doing this Nicholas? You look so hurt; I can see it in your eyes. You’re holding a world of pain just beneath your surface, and it’s incredibly hard to look at.”

“You should talk. You’ve got more pain and suffering under your belt than practically the entire human race.”

“This isn’t about me, Nick.”

“Yes it is.”

The gunman watched Nicholas, only a blink showing that he had heard the last statement.

“Why do you like me, Vash? Why did you kiss me? Why do you let me follow you around- I know it’s not just my bike getting you from place to place. I know it’s not the good company. I’m a complete dick to you most of the time. What is it? Why do you tolerate me as a person?” Wolfwood asked, a note of desperation seeping into his voice. “Why?! What did I, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, liar, sinner, killer, betrayer, do to deserve the affections and friendship of Vash the Stampede?!” He dug the barrel of his gun a little deeper into Vash’s flesh. “Tell me.”

“Is that all this is about?”

Nicholas said nothing. They both knew that that wasn’t ALL this was about. Neither contradicted the statement, both content to let it slide.

“You should have just asked in the first place.” Vash spoke, his voice taking on an aspect of anger. “You-“ Vash began, moving the long shaft of his gun up to where Nicholas’ own was trying to force its way out of the back of his neck. “-are a good man.” Metal against metal, and Vash had knocked Nick’s gun away with a clang. It thudded he fhe floor and skidded out of sight under the small desk across the room. “You-“ Another thud and Vash’s gun was lying on the floor by their feet. “-are a kind man. You-“ Vash’s voice was becoming more and more heated, anger etching fine lines into his features, causing the corners of his mouth to curl downwards, his eyes to become furious slits, and his cheeks to darken with the blood that was rushing up to the surface of his skin. “-may have lied, killed, betrayed, stolen, hurt, whatever. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Nicholas was standing over a man he did not know. He was looking down upon someone he had never met before. He had never seen Vash so passionately angry. Upset, yes, mad, yes, disappointed, yes, but never, ever, had he held such violent vehemence in his voice.

Suddenly, before he had a moment to register what was happening, Vash grabbed Nicholas by his shirt and pulled him down, face to face with him. Vash scooted back a slight amount on the bed, and pulled Nick onto his lap. Not knowing what else to do, and simply caught in a moment of sheer surprise, Nicholas sat on top of him, legs on either side of Vash’s hips. Their chests were nearly touching and their faces mere inches apart from one another.

“Take it off.” Vash commanded, his tone softening a bit. Nick made a face as if he were going to protest but was cut off by a leather-clad finger over his lips. “Shh. I’m not going to try anything. Just take it off. Please.”

Wolfwood shrugged out of his jacket, and began unbuttoning his dirty white linen shirt. He hoped Vash was only referring to the top half of his clothing, as removing the bottom half would expose the truth as to just how much straddling the gunman was exciting him. Of course they both knew it, but he was hoping they would let it slide just like the earlier comment Vash had made.

Once his shirt hit the floor, and his upper torso was exposed to toonloonlight and the eyes of the man beneath him, Wolfwood held his breath. **Touch me. Please touch me. This is bad. This is going to get me in so much trouble. FUCK. I have to think of the kids. Damnit. Touch me!** Conflicting thoughts and desires played out across Wolfwood’s face, his eyes trying to look anywhere but into Vash the Stampede’s.

“Why do I like you? Why did I kiss you? Why do I stay friends with you when I know what you’ve done in the past? Because, Nick, you’re good HERE.” A gloved finger moved slowly down Wolfwood’s lips, where it had still been resting after he had quieted him. It trailed down chin, neck, collarbone, and finally came to rest over Nicholas’ left breast. Vash traced a heart pattern over the skin under which the real heart lay. “You have a good heart. The best I’ve seen in so many years. You have no idea. I can tell what you want; you’re so easy to read. You want the best for your kids in December, you want to right the wrongs you have done, you want to avoid what you think is your definite future. Now what you think that future is, I’m not sure, but by the look in your eyes, I’d say it’s pretty grim, am I right?”

Wolfwood sighed and turned his head away completely. “You have no idea, Vash. Grim doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“Nick, the ticket to the future is always open. If you keep your vision clear-“

“Bullshit!” Nick growled. “That’s complete and utter bullshit. I know my future, and there’s no changing it. I have done things that can never be taken back. I’ve done bad things, and I can’t stop. You don’t have a clue how hard it is to stop being who I am. I will do things in the future, things that are going to wrap my fate around me and suffocate me. You have no idea of what I’m capable of doing...”

**...to you.** He finished in his head.

Wolfwood looked the man underneath him over. Blonde hair, almost silver in the moonlight. dark eyes, delicate beauty mark. Sloping nose and almost feminine chin. Smooth lips that he knew would be warm, so warm. And would taste like sugar with something more, something tart, like the taste of copper just underneath the surface..

**God, I need to move. I need to get up. I need to get out of here. But...** His eyes wandered over a long neck hidden underneath the fabric of a red jacket. Broad shoulders and strong arms. He had never felt the skin on those arms, but the desire to run his own callused and worn fingers over it was almost overwhelming. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to just touch the purity of Vash’s skin. To run his hands across Vash’s flesh. Innocence. Honesty. Truth.

**Damn. I KNOW Legato is watching this. How the hell is he doing it? With any luck, he’ll realize that we’re not doing anything...** He was shaken out of his thoughts when Vash spoke again, much softer, almost a whisper.

“I know exactly what you’re capable of.” A gloved hand ran through his hair and came to rest on the back of his neck.

--Earlier that day--

Wolfwood couldn’t get back to sleep. Adrenaline still racing through his veins, he rose quietly and began to head over to Angelina II. He loaded the firewood and gathered their belongings, preparing for the trip to the town where his punishment awaited him. Whatever that meant.

**How did Legato know about us? Is he reading my mind? No, there’s no WAY. I’d definitely know it if he were. I THINK I’d know it if he were. How the hell is he doing it?! Fuck!** Wolfwood paced back and forth in front of Angelina, lost in thought. He lit up a cigarette, the match flaring to life. He inhaled and shook the small flame of the match out. **Oh, so NOW the wind dies down. Great.** The suns were rising and the first light was breaking the deep blue into a thousand pieces. Nicholas looked up and saw the clouds that were weighing heavy in the sky. *Oh,*Oh, so it’s going to be one of THOSE days. At least that means I won’t be getting sunburned while I drive.**

“Gooooo-ood morning Nick!” Vash chirped. Wolfwood jumped at the voice that was startlingly close to him and the accompanying arms, which were lacing around his waist from behind.

**Shit. Fuck. FUCK.** The dark haired man shrugged out of Vash’s grip and with a forced frown firmly in place, he turned to look at him.

“What do YOU want?” He sneered. **Yes, this is how it’s going to be. This is how it HAS to be. Please understand.**

Vash looked taken aback, and his smile (it looked to Nick as if it had been one of his genuine ones) faltered and then re-appeared in its falsely large form.

**Don’t look at me like that! Don’t make this harder, Vash!**

“Oh! Nothing I guess! So, where are we heading to?” Said the gunman with carefully calculated cheer.

Wolfwood shrugged, knowing perfectly well where they were headed, but not wanting to seem as if he suddenly had a destination in mind after all their wandering.

“Let’s go. Get on, Vash.” He replied curtly.

**At least I don’t have to look at that hurt in your eyes while I drive.**

He inhaled the smoke of his cigarette deeply, filling his lungs almost to the point of coughing. He breathed it out through his nose and then threw the butt to the ground, grinding it out with his heel.

--TBC—

Love you guys! Read and Review. **Sigh** Poor poor Wolfwood. I feel so bad for him. Why am I so bad to him? I’m a glutton for writing angst, I guess. And drama. Will things ever turn around for the boys? I don’t know yet. More shounen ai? I don’t know yet. Lemon? I don’t think so, but... anything’s possible I guess. More drama and the likes? Hell yes.