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No Rain	By : blynkin108 Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 4334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
A/N: We would like to take this opportunity to apologize for the long-ass time it took to get this chapter posted. We have been struggling with how to continue this story,* Read: arguing* +<pppfffffbt>+ and we think we’ve finally settled on a plotline, so the next update shouldn’t take nearly as long as this one did. We should also warn you about the content of this particular chapter. *Actually, Jayne didn’t, but I told her to because I don’t want to be killed by raging fanmobs.* +Katwingz had a point, so I acquiesced.+ A new character makes their presence known. And felt. And it’s NOT an O/C. That’s all I’ll say. * Because yer a chickenshit. * +That’s not the point.+ Gomennasai!

~~Jayne and Katwingz

Additionally, ‘Shittyncheap’ was shamelessly borrowed from Robofetus0’s All in a Day’s Work. http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/story.php?no=544182074 Check it out, it’s funny as hell.

I walked out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I shook my head and leaned against the door. Goddamn. I’d laughed in the end only to keep myself from crying. I’d come perilously close to it anyway, and actually sobbing there in the bathroom would have sucked. I’d cried exactly twice in my entire life, and that had been two times too many. Boys don’t cry, that’s what obasan had told me. Never mind that those two times I had broken down might even be justified. But no matter. The milk was spilled; I had to clean it up and go on. My method of cleaning up was to shove everything that happened into a box, wrap the box in plain brown paper, label it and tie it up with thirty yarz of string. Then I shoved the box under the metaphorical bed to collect dust. A couple times the box had popped open on its own, spilling its contents across my consciousness like an overturned tomas trough. I had to cram it all back into the box, but at least it was all in more-or-less the same place. When the box was ripped open – and that had happened more than a couple times – it took longer to clean. Mostly because the fucker exploded when the lid came off. Contents under pressure and all that. I’m sure I’ll end up finding bits and pieces of mental debris in the far-flung corners of my mind for the rest of my life. As it is, every now and then I stumble across chunks of memory and thought I didn’t know I had.
Vash had been the first one to find the box and not try to force it open. He just had the nasty habit of pulling it out, dusting it off, and shaking it to ‘see’ what was inside. Maybe someday, after I’d had a good night’s sleep and a good bottle of Dim Deam, I’d open the box up for him. But not today.
I pushed away from the door and slowly gathered up some clean, dry clothes. I collected what I needed off the backs of the chairs where I’d left them to dry the night before, and replaced them with the wet clothes I’d been wearing. The actions were routine, almost automatic. It was only six in the morning, after all, and despite everything there were still parts of my brain that had yet to wake up. Parts that would probably end up screaming at me on the bus.
Shit. That’s right, I had to pack. I was leaving this place at nine to see the Boss. But…I glanced over my shoulder at the bathroom door. I cut that train of thought off before it could leave the station. What I wanted was a non-issue here, and openly defying the Boss was a dicey proposition at best. Besides, even if I did decide to…it wouldn’t be for my sake.
I was worried. There, I admitted it. It wasn’t that I’d had sex with Vash, although I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be too happy about that, either. It was…everything else. The fact that it had been something more meaningful than just sex, that there was something about him that resonated in me. Our…connection, and the emotions that had brought it into being...the God’s honest truth was it confused me, even scared me. The final blow to the piñata was that there was no way I could hide everything from Legato once he started his obligatory rooting around in my head. That had me really worried.
But there was no use in stewing over it now. I had at least two more days to think about it; more than that if the route took me into Kotadans first. I’d figure it out. At least, I hoped I would. The future was going to suck if I couldn’t pull something out of my ass.
I finished getting dressed, then perched on a chair. Much to my annoyance, I couldn’t really slump in it without getting my back wet. I pulled a cigarette out of the pack on the table, and had a match poised to strike when I heard shuffling in the bathroom. God dammit. I was getting real tired of having to regulate my bad habits around him. If I didn’t want to get mauled again, I’d have to clue Vash in to the fact that I was going to light up.
+…+
Okay, so having Vash maul me every time I lit a cigarette wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world, but he’d probably appreciate the warning.
“Hey Nee…um, Ton…uh, hey, can I have a smoke?” There was a hint of amusement across the link followed by a wisp of confusion.
“Since when do you need my permission to…oh. Eheh.” Had he forgotten already? Dumbass. “It should be all right if you smoke out the window.” Out the window, huh? I walked over to said window and opened it wide. The suns had just barely peeked over the horizon and already the cool of night was swiftly being replaced by the sweltering heat of another sunny, cloudless day. Once, just once, I’d like to walk outside to an overcast sky and a cool breeze that made my black priest’s jacket a blessing instead of a curse. I leaned out of the window and looked at the ground. Hmmm. I ducked back inside and glanced over to the bathroom door, which was closer to the window than the table was.
“How far do you want me to lean?” I asked, only half joking.
“Whatever makes you feel safe.”
“From you, or from falling out the window?” It was a toss-up as to which would shock me more: being attacked by a horny Vash or actually falling two stories into the alley. I knew which one was going to hurt.
“Both?” Boy, he was just all kinds of reassuring this morning. I shook my head and closed the window again.
“Maybe I should just go down to the café and have done with it,” I said, pocketing the pack of cigarettes and heading for the door. Given the choice between the dubious safety of the two-story drop and Vash’s control over his libido at the moment…it was a toss-up as to which would hurt more. Best to just remove myself from the tempta - er, situation.
“Can you get me some more donuts while you’re at it? At least three dozen this time.” Three dozen? Holy fuck, where did the man put them all?
“You payin’?”
“If you can find my coat, take what you need out of the front right pocket.” I spotted his coat easily enough. It was the only thing on the floor that had any color to it. “And I know exactly how much I have, so no…extras.” Did he really think that I’d stoop that low? And since when did cigarettes count as ‘extra?’ They were a necessary food group for me, but I didn’t think that would go over real well with Vash. Instead of trying to explain the situation, I settled for blowing a raspberry at the bathroom door.
I picked up his coat by the collar and rifled through the entire right side of his coat. He’d said front right pocket - the only problem with that was that there were about 20 front right pockets and none of them were the right ones. At last, though, I located what I’d been looking for. Well, actually, I found it when I upturned his coat on the table and shook for all I was worth. +Him and his fucking impossible clothing.+ The wad of cash that fell out made my eyes pop a little. No wonder he could afford to take me out last night. I blinked. Surely it had been longer than that. It had to be. +Less than twelve hours later, and we’re bantering like old...whatsits.+ I winced. I still had no fucking clue what to call him, but ‘friend’ still wasn’t it.
I peeled off a twenty, stuffed it in my wallet, and shoved the remainder of the cash into a random pocket before chucking Vash’s coat back in the general direction of the pile it had come from. The rest of the shit he could damn well put away on his own.
I stepped out on the landing and took a deep breath. There were voices coming from the lobby downstairs: travelers settling their bills with the desk clerk, shouted orders in the café. I let an unlighted cigarette dangle from my lips as I descended the stairs for a second time that morning to buy donuts. Jesus, the girl at the counter was going to think I was some kind of sugar fiend or something.
I walked through the archway separating the restaurant from the lobby and stopped dead. I tried to swallow a couple of times, but my heart got in the way. I backpedaled and leaned against the wall next to the doorway, out of sight for the time being.
+Dante. FUCK.+
*Nick? What’s wrong? Who’s Dante?* In all the ‘excitement’ I’d forgotten to keep that little thought to myself.
+FUCK!!+
*What’s going on, Nick?* I could feel Vash’s concern behind his words. I appreciated the concern, but I was more afraid for him than I was for myself. Granted, Vash could probably handle the Hornfreak with one hand tied behind his back. That didn’t mean I wanted him to do it today. Besides, I had a couple of advantages that Vash didn’t.
+Fuck. Fuck.+ I was trying to think very quickly without sending everything across the link to him. The best course of action was to get the broom-headed idiot as far away from here as I possibly could without fucking things up even more than they already were. +You have to go.+
*Go? Where? Why? Nick --*
+I don’t have time for explanations. Just pack up your shit and go.+ The fact that I didn’t want to explain that my former ‘friend’ was here for reasons I couldn’t even begin to fathom had absolutely nothing to do with it. Absolutely nothing. Right. +Like Dante would seek me out for more than one reason.+
*But…* God help me, but he sounded so forlorn…
+No buts. This situation’s already bad; adding you to the equation would just make it worse. Trust me. Just go. I’ll catch up to you later.+ Or never, but I really didn’t want to think about never.
*Alright.*
I took a moment to put a steel wall up in front of the link. It wasn’t a perfect block, but it would suffice. There was no way I was going to be able to avoid talking with Dante. If he was here, it was because he knew I was here. Hell, he probably knew, or at least suspected, that Vash was somewhere in the immediate vicinity too. I couldn’t do anything about that now, but I took some small measure of comfort in knowing I could put off his meeting with Vash, at least for a little while. Now all I had to do was stall. I just thanked God I had come downstairs when I did. I didn’t want to know what would have happened if he’d come knocking on my door with no warning.
Steeling myself, I walked into the café as calmly as I could. I shot covert glances at Dante, who was busily chatting up a waitress, as I walked up to the counter, unlit cigarette still between my lips. The girl at the counter smiled cheerfully at me as I purchased two packs of cigarettes. The café doubled as a travelers’ store, offering dried food, canteens, and maps. I took my time pretending to decide on the brand, finally settling on the cheapest they carried. +Mmm…Shittyncheap. My favorite.+ I took my change and turned around, nearly running over Dante. He’d walked up right behind me, and I hadn’t even noticed. Shit.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said. He smirked, eyes flashing with amusement.
“Imagine that,” I replied, glaring at him. He laughed, the dim lighting reflecting off the perfectly molded waves of his hair. I’d been the only one laughing the one and only time he’d worn it entirely slicked back, and so he had settled for mousse-ing it to death instead. I was pretty sure his hairstyle could outlast a typhoon, humanoid or otherwise. It was exactly the same as I remembered. And like always, Sylvia was in her case, shoulder strap cutting across his suit jacket. It sort of ruined the mobster effect, but it meant that he wasn’t here on a ‘gig.’
“What, aren’t you happy to see me?” He grinned so wide I could almost see his molars, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hardly. What the hell are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest and attempted to make the bastard drop dead with the force of my glare. I did not need this right now.
“Why else? I came to see you, of course.” I raised an eyebrow at that.
“I find it hard to believe that the Boss would let you out of his…sight.” Dante laughed, rich and throaty like I’d actually said something funny.
“Well, he’s quite a bit more far-sighted than you are, that’s for certain. Which brings me to the point, more or less. You’re here, and not there.” Dante’s eyes suddenly grew very serious.
“I’m on my way. D’you wanna see my bus ticket?” I asked, not giving an inch. It was Dante’s turn to quirk an eyebrow.
“Was that an offer?” I groaned.
“In your dreams,” I spat and began to turn away. Dante went very still and I turned back to see what had stopped him. He had the strangest look on his face, something between dumbstruck and dangerous.
“What makes you think you know anything about my dreams?” he asked quietly and then shook his head. “But I digress.” His smirk was back in place like it had never left.
“Look, I’m on the next bus. Give it a rest.” He gave me a long look, raking his eyes over me. It was that professional ‘strip them with your eyes’ look that he’d perfected over the years, and it never failed to make me feel completely naked. No matter how many times it was leveled at me. Which was probably the point, but despite the creep factor it was still preferable to him doing it with his hands. A small shiver ran down my spine, and I said a silent prayer for whoever had walked over my grave.
“Looks like you’re the one that needs the rest, not me. Didn’t get too much sleep last night, did you? Whatever were you doing? Or, should I say, who?” What the hell? Were we playing twenty questions now? In that case, it was my fucking turn.
“What do you care?” I spat. “I don’t exactly keep tabs on your…exploits. I never had to, you flaunted them.” It had always bothered me for some reason that Dante was so casual about it. He couldn’t really do anything about Legato, obviously, but somewhere in the depths of my mind it hurt, just a little, when he’d brag about this-or-that girl.
“If they’re good enough to leave you looking like that,” he said, gesturing to my damp hair and admittedly rumpled clothes, “They’re certainly someone I’d like to meet.” Dante had been very careful not to specify a gender there, and a brief flutter of concern twisted through my gut. But there was no way Dante could have known that last night was the first time I’d ever slept with a man other than him, could he? I’d never even told him that I’d adopted his habit of picking up cheap floozies in a bar.
“They were gone by the time you got here. Sorry.” Okay, technically just after he got here, but it’s not like Dante would ever know that either. +I hope.+ I felt the urge to check on Vash through the link, but Dante knew what mental conversation ‘looked’ like, and I didn’t want to risk him being any more suspicious than he already was. I hoped it hadn’t taken Vash much more than five minutes to pack his shit and git, because I was about done with dear old Dante.
“What a shame.” Dante sighed theatrically. “Oh well, I guess that means I get you all to myself now, don’t I?” I blinked at him twice and then shook my head.
“I’ve got better things to do.” I brushed past him and out into the lobby. I’d nearly reached the stairs when he stopped me, his hand on my shoulder.
“You didn’t really mean that, did you? I hope not.” I glared pointedly at his hand and shrugged it off.
“Oh? Why’s that?” Had I stuttered?
“Wouldn’t it be in your best interests to keep me happy?” He paused. “Well, maybe not your best interests…” He casually studied the fingernails of his left hand, then dusted them on his lapel and slowly raised his eyes to mine. I squeezed them shut. Dammit, dammit, dammit. If I didn’t ‘keep him happy,’ he was going back to Legato with a less-than-stellar report of my activities, regardless of what actually happened, and I didn’t want to know what kind of embellishments he’d add. Sadly enough, they were probably going to be things that actually did happen, but he wouldn’t know that. I was in deep shit either way.
“Can we not discuss this here? I need to pack, anyway.” I felt my shoulders droop a little as I said it. I hadn’t wanted to invite him up to the room, but its not like I could keep talking about this kind of thing out in public. I hadn’t wanted to talk to him at all, but then, I never do get what I want, do I? Them’s the breaks, I guess. I turned around and headed for the stairs again.
“Fabulous idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” I let that slide. Dante slung an arm around my shoulders as we climbed the stairs, and that I did not let slide. I shrugged the arm off, taking the stairs two at a time to stay ahead of him. I didn’t really like having him at my back like that, especially when I was unarmed, but I figured it was better to have him behind me than beside me right now. That would not hold true once we got to the room.
I must have stared at that door for five full seconds before I got up enough courage to actually stick the key in the lock. I made as much noise as I could without being obvious about it. Just in case. Vash was gone, had to be, but…I fiddled with the lock, I rattled the doorknob, I cursed at the key, and kicked the door when the key didn’t turn in the lock right away. But I was still just stalling, and I couldn’t put it off anymore with Dante’s breath on my neck. Shit.
I hated that it was something so trivial that broke my defenses. Even after years apart, it was his breath on the back of my neck that finally did me in. I’d never actually told Dante what it did to me, but he knew. There are only so many things you can mistake a shiver for, after all, and I was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t fall for ‘its cold.’ +Funny, Vash probably would have been sympathetic…+
I swung the door open and stepped into the room, out of range of Dante’s distracting breath. Without even looking, I knew Vash was gone. The emptiness was palpable, both in the room and in my head, but traces of his presence still lingered. Like the fact that he’d made an attempt to ‘organize’ the mess to the point where there were only two piles, one of towels and one of my clothes. Both were neatly folded. He’d also replaced the pistol in the punisher and sort of draped the cover over the exposed arm. And he’d made the bed.
Behind me, I heard Dante close and lock the door.
- 10
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