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Disclaimer: I own Trigun. In fact, I own every anime ever created. In fact, scratch that, I own the entire WORLD!! Bwahahaha!

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Peaches 'n' Cream Part 5

[Wolfwood]

Damn him. Stupid broom head. Dumbass. Moron. Jerk. Dick-head. Losing me in this crowd of people. I could kill him.

The entire room is being taken up by men and women of various sizes and shapes with only one thing in common: decadence. Pure, unadulterated decadence. These people have no shame, carelessly flaunting as much flesh as possible to prying eyes. In the center of the room, as if to top things off, there seems to be a show going on: a man spanking a woman upon the rear, and with what appears to be a red suede paddle, no less. Quite the show, indeed. I continue to slide through the crowd, though, still searching for him and beginning to fear that he gave me the slip. He’s pretty good at that.

Still dressed in my black t-shirt and trousers, I feel horribly out of place but I’m sure as hell not going to dress like these people. I, at least, have some dignity. A woman who is, surprisingly, taller than I am suddenly appears in front of me, smiling ferally. A claw-like fingernail nearly jabs my eye out as she places her hand upon my face. "You’re a pretty little man, aren’t you?" she hisses at me, breath smelling thickly of vodka.

I pull back from her, completely disgusted. "So dark and exotic..." She advances on me as I raise my eyebrows.

"Get the hell away from me, lady. Find someone else to play with."

"Oh, you’re a fiesty one. Makes ‘em more fun to break in..."

I give up trying to treat her as if she’s actually female as she wraps one large hand about my throat. Instead, I ready myself for the fist-fight of the century. Just as I go to pull back, possibly hit her a good one on the skull, someone from my left reaches forward, grabs her wrist, and twists it to the point that she relinquishes my throat. I keep from gasping for air to the best of my ability before turning to the one who had saved me.

My heart stops beating...

"Legato??"

He smiles that sick, sadistic smile he always has, blue hair just kind of lying limp in his eyes. Not only did I not expect to see him here, but I also failed to expect to see him wearing what he is wearing. Tight black leather all around and a thick collar around his neck, huge o-ring dangling from the center. "Chapel. So nice to see you."

Always monotonous, never has been one for a cheerful greeting.

I frown just a bit, puffing up my chest and trying to look macho. "What the hell are you doing here?" Yeah, it was big of me to say, and I can tell immediately that he doesn’t like me using such a tone, but if he thinks that I can’t handle my job of keeping an eye on Vash, he’s got another thing coming. I make sure to tell him so. "If you think that I can’t handle my job..."

"Nonsense, boy," he seethes at me. "I’m just as surprised to see you here as you are to see me."

I take a moment to glance around at all of the happenings in this room before I turn back to him and notice that, for once in his life, he fits right in with the others. For a moment, I realize that if Legato is here, then Knives must be, as well. That makes my heart beat a bit faster and my mind start racing. Knives being here is not a good thing. If he finds out that...

"Is Vash the Stampede here, as well?"

Shit. "Yes." I know I can’t lie to him. It would be pointless. Freaky mind-reader; I never liked that.

"You should leave." That took me by surprise, and I kinda start wondering why he would want me to leave. Hell, my job was to find Vash and bring him to Knives. There was never any set schedule. If Knives is here now, then I can get the broom head away from me and have more time to feel sorry for myself and realize that I’ve gone insane due to my conscience. "The Master is not yet ready to see his brother."

Simple enough. "There’s a problem with that. My bike broke down. We’re working here to earn some money to get some other vehicle." He looks me up and down, kinda like he’s testing to see if I’m for real or not. Obviously I am. He nods smugly in agreement. "Very well, but see to it that you leave as soon as possible."

He turns and weaves back through the crowd, disappearing and I feel myself noticeably relax. God, that guy freaks me out sometimes. I kinda have to wonder why the hell he’s here in a place like this. I didn’t pin Legato to be this kind of freak. A bit unnerving. Unsettling, even. I turn and begin weaving through the crowd like Legato had done, only with less luck. People seem less willing to make room for a scruffy-faced guy in a black t-shirt.

I finally find myself at the door, though, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket to get away from a woman who decided to attach herself to my wrist. Not fun. People here are so grabby and selfish. "I’m not a piece of meat, woman!" I finally screech at her, yanking my hand free. She frowns and disappears back into the crowd.

I quickly make my way back out into the lobby and to the front desk. The woman, idly flipping through a few papers in a stack a few inches thick glances at me and then returns to her work. Sighing, I set my finger onto the tiny little silver bell on the counter.

No dice. She continues to work and ignore me. Only one thing to do. I hit the little button on the dinky bell repeatedly, causing it to make incessant dinging sounds that echo through the whole area. After a minute or so of this, she finally stops, sighing, and comes to me. "Can I help you, sir?" Obviously some sarcasm on the sir. Oh, this ought to be fun.

"Yeah, did you see a tall, thin, lanky blonde broom-headed guy come by here?" Of course, I know she did. He went up and talked to her.

"No, I’m afraid I didn’t."

I look thoughtful for a moment, a bit of sarcasm on my part. "You sure? I could have sworn I saw him come up here and talk to you."

"Lots of people come and talk to me, sir. I don’t remember all of them."

"Well, it was only a few minutes ago. Surely your memory isn’t that bad?"

"I’m afraid it is, sir. I don’t remember him."

"Just tell me what room he went in, and I’ll leave you alone."

"I don’t know, sir."

Sighing, I place my finger on the bell once more causing it to emit a slow, light ringing sound. "You sure?"

"Positive."

I idlly begin tapping the ringer on the bell. Repeatedly. Loudly. She stares at it a moment. A few people start to stare, as well. She reaches for the bell and I snatch it off of the counter, holding it inmy hand and tapping it. Speaking over the sound of the annoying bell that is even starting to get on my nerves, I say, "Just tell me where you sent him." Kinda sing-song. Surely as annoying as the bell.

Her eyebrow twitches as she bites her lower lip, eyes glancing around the room at all of the customers who seem to be a bit disturbed by the scene I’m making. "Fine! Just stop ringing the bell."

I grin and set it back on the counter, leaning forward just a bit and giving her my best ‘kiss-my-ass’ smile. "Yes?"

"He wanted to know where room 102 is."

"Thank you so much for your genorosity." I bow lightly and make my way to the staircase.

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"Oh, Master... you’re so wonderful."

"Yeah, I know. Hey Sarah, how are those shoes coming along?"

"Wonderful, Master."

"Great. Lily? The coat?"

"Already cleaned. I’m ironing it now."

"Excellent."

Okay, I know what I’m hearing. I know that I’m hearing Vash’s voice on the other side of the door. I just don’t wanna think about what the hell he’s doing in the room with what appears to be two or three females. Having his coat cleaned? Can’t he think of anything better to do with three women??

I tightly grip the handle, ready to bust into the room. When I push on it, though, I realize that it’s locked. Dammit. I’d hoped to make a grand entrance and catch Vash in the act of something... utterly stupid.

Sighing to myself, I knock on the door.

"Lily, would you get that?"

"Certainly, Master." A few padded footsteps. "Who is it?"

Think quickly. "Room service."

Surprisingly, she opens the door. My eyes widen as I realize she’s in nothing but her undergarments. I quickly ignore it, though. Instead, I poke my head inside to see Vash relaxing in a rather large, comfortable-looking chair using a woman as a footstool and holding a... a riding crop?? Another woman appears to be shining his boots and off to the side is an ironing board with his infamous red coat stretched out upon it. This can’t be real.

"Vash, what the hell is going on?!"

He immediately jumps out of the chair, riding crop sent flying. His eyes glance about nervously, pulling at whatever piece of fabric his hands can rest upon. Admittedly, he doesn’t look too bad in just the black clothes he wears under the red coat, but I’ve got more important things to worry about than how muscled his torso looks. "Wolfwood. Um... hi? This is... we were doing this thing and..."

"Is this the thing I wouldn’t approve of?"

Nervousness. "Yes."

I snort, nearly laugh. It’s almost ridiculous. Instead of laughing though, I scowl, try to scare him a bit. It works. "Why’re you looking at me like that? I told you it wasn’t anything dangerous."

I walk backwards out the door, waggling my finger at him to inform him that he should follow. He quickly sprints out the door, shutting it behind him and apparently preparing for a beating. What a pathetic site. "Vash, tell me exactly what’s going on."

Shifty eyes. Hell, I would be emberrassed too, had I been discovered using a woman as a footstool. "Well, see, it’s like this: Mr. Cole called me into the office today to tell me that there was this woman who wanted me to dress as a woman and I could earn five hundred double dollars for doing it, so I took it and when I got here, there were three women, which kind of freaked me out but they wanted me to dominate them, not dress as a woman, so I accepted and I even got an extra hundred double dollars for it." Pause for breath. "Cool, huh?"

"You agreed to dress like a woman?"

"Yeah, kinda. I don’t see anything wrong with it."

Strange. Just strange. A tall, muscular blonde man, the infamous gunman with sixty-billion double dollars on his head doesn’t see anything wrong with crossdressing for money. "Well, at least you didn’t have to."

"Yeah."

"So how much longer ‘til you’re finished here?"

"Um... ‘bout half an hour?"

I snort once more, smirking and getting a strange perverse pleasure out of this. "Can I watch?" Make an excuse. "I don’t wanna stand out here in the hall for thirty minutes, and I’m not leaving you alone in this hotel."

Nervous once again. Eyes shift over my body and then blink rapidly. "Um... yeah? Sure."

"Cool."

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