Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Sleepless ❯ One-Shot

 

Hello fellow Trigun fans! This short fic might be a little cliché, but I really like the subject. I'm a huge fan of the Wolfwood/Millie pairing, and I think it's a shame that there's not more fics out there exploring their relationship! Anyway, kinda introspective (sort of) from Wolfwood's point of view (somewhat).

Thanks!

D.C.

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“Mr. Priest?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you cold?”

Nicholas D. Wolfwood rolled over to look at his questioner. She was one Milly Thompson. The younger, and lower ranking, of the insurance girl duo sent to follow Vash the Stampede in an attempt to `keep him out of trouble.' She was a tall girl, reminiscent of an Amazon he thought. Tall and strong. And beautiful. And also a number of other things that he had yet to fully work out for himself.

Her long dark blonde hair lay about her, piling on her pillow in a rather inviting manner. He looked into her bright blue, innocent eyes. Full of concern, he thought.

“No, I'm fine,” he lied.

It was a chilly night out, camping in the desert. That… and he wasn't very comfortable using this rock as a pillow. He wished he could share hers. He was even feeling a little jealous of her `Sempai' laying there so close, sharing a blanket. It took him back to their bus ride together to May City. How long ago was that, he asked himself. She was so comfortable… sextuplets he thought, grinning widely looking up at the stars.

“Why are you smiling, Mr. Priest?” The girl asked him, getting up into a kneeling position. “Were you thinking of your children?”

“Whaaa….! Ha-ha,” he chuckled weakly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “You do say the strangest things…”

“My boss says that, too.”

Vash was right, she really was pretty sharp.

“I can't sleep, Mr. Priest. Do you mind if I talk to you for a little bit? Are you sure you're not too cold?”

He sat up and leaned against his Cross. “No problem at all, big girl. Somethin' on your mind?”

“I guess I'm just worried about Mr. Vash.”

“Now why is that?” The priest asked digging a crumpled cigarette from his coat pocket.

“He just seems so sad all the time, Sempai, too.” She leaned in closer and whispered confidentially, “I think Sempai likes Mr. Vash, and he likes her back.”

“Well now, is that all that's bothering you?” Wolfwood smiled, lighting the cigarette balanced delicately between his lips.

She blushed a little bit. Ever mysterious, he thought to himself. Always giving and concerned for others. How much was there about seemingly simple Milly Thompson that none of them had ever bothered to look for?

“How's your family?” He asked, changing the subject. “Get any letters recently; your `Sempai' let it slip that this month's issue of the `Milly Monthly' was a long one.”

She brightened visibly, “Oh yes, Mr. Wolfwood, I got one back in the city of April as we were passing through! They appreciate my letters so much, I'm so glad.”

“Heh.” Wolfwood chuckled, “I'd be happy too, if I got half the letters you seem to get. Anything new and exciting happening in the lives of your ten brothers and sisters?”

“Well, everybody's doing well. My middle big brother is getting married after next planting season; my big big sister is going to have a baby. Oh, everybody is doing so well! Middle Big brother and Arny are…”

She continued on but he wasn't really listening. The goings on of Big Big Sisters and Little Big Brothers were too much for him to take in this late at night. The third moon was already starting to show on the horizon. Instead he focused on the speaker. Everything I can't, he thought to himself, just no big deal at all. He thought about what a great mother she would make, how the children at his orphanage would love her so much. How it wasn't right that so many wonderful children, like the little ones waiting for him 300 iles from December, should grow up without a mother, without that feminine influence in their lives. He thought about her yellow pajamas, and then he thought about what was under them.

He forced himself to return his attention to the words she was speaking.

“And then little Sandra told Dougie… are you sure you're not too cold, Mr. Priest? I have another blanket in my bag.” She finished, digging the blanket out from her pack.

“Well, how can I say `no' to such a pretty lady?” he asked reaching for the proffered blanket and wrapping himself up in it.

Milly blushed a deeper pink this time. “You really think so, Mr. Priest?”

“Ha! Of course, it would be rude!” He flashed a broad, friendly smile at his companion.

“No, I mean, do you really think I'm pretty?”

If ever there had been a question to trap a man, this was it. Why was it that whenever he was with this girl he was always getting into trouble?

“Of course,” he dismissed the question casually with a wave of the hand, “only a fool would think otherwise.”

She turned a yet deeper shade of pink. Even her ears were starting to turn red. Wolfwood thought she looked exceptionally cute, so he told her so.

“Oh, Mr. Priest!” She wasn't even looking at him now. He smiled gently. She was fixated on a small pebble about halfway between them. How wonderfully adorable, and he certainly liked the way she said `Mr. Priest.' It made him feel tingly on the inside, it made him feel good. No one he'd ever known had made him feel like this. She made him feel like he could do something good, something truly worth while with his life, that he could make all the right decisions. There was no one he'd ever known who he'd so wanted to see happy, or who he'd so like to please.

And it wasn't because she was just a pretty girl. He'd known, and known very well, quite a few pretty girls. He sighed, wishing that it was no more confusing than just wanting a pretty girl to share the night with him. Unfortunately the emotions that swirled around him now were far more complicated. He wanted to take her home with him. Not just to whatever sleazy hotel he happened to be staying at while on a job, he wanted to take her to where his heart was, to his lost children, to hold forever and ever.

“Blushing, huh?”

If she could have blushed any more, she would have, instead she shivered slightly.

“Come here. Share this blanket with me for a little while, till you get sleepy.”

She nodded her head and inched toward him carefully, trying not to step on any rocks, and settled in next to him. Wolfwood arranged the blanket around them lovingly.

“There, now you don't have to sit in the cold, and `Sempai' there doesn't have to give up her blanket.”

His insides were churning now. He tossed his spent cigarette butt away from them and inhaled deeply. He always liked the scent of a woman. Hers was soft and gentle. It reminded him of an early morning dew, but with hints of grease and gun powder. Wolfwood leaned back on his cross.

“So, I know that you're the youngest of eleven children, but tell me a little more about the mysterious Milly Thompson. Who is the woman behind the stun gun? Where are you from?”

I'm from the City of December, my whole family lives there.”

Well that was good, Wolfwood thought to himself. She wouldn't have to go too far from her family; she could still visit when he stole her away.

“What about you?” she returned the question, looking at him with those immense innocent blue eyes.

“Well…” he began, sputtering a little and lighting another cigarette to stall.

“You shouldn't smoke so much, Mr. Wolfwood. It's not good for you, or for the children you're taking care of.”

“It's a nervous habit. I need it to do it to relax.”

“Is that why you drink so much, too, Mr. Priest?”

She was sure getting him with all his vices tonight. He tried not to think about how close she was to him, under the blanket.

“Enough about me, I'm just a man of the cloth, out raising money for the orphanage I left behind. How'd you come to be the insurance business, anyway?”

“Well, after I finished engineering school it was the only job I could find.”

“You… went to engineering school? To work on the Plants? The old remains of the spaceships?” Wolfwood asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, but times are tight, and no one can really afford to have them fixed, even the best students of engineering are having a difficult time finding work like that.” She leaned back again and looked him in the eyes.

“So how did an ex-gunman become a priest?”

Good question. Well, honesty is always the best policy.

“I was raised for it from a very young age.”

“Oh… was it… after… your parents died, she asked cautiously, pulling the blanket around herself a little more tightly.

“Yes,” was Wolfwood's simple answer. It had been after that. It wasn't like he'd told a lie… It just wasn't the entire truth.

“How did it happen?” Milly asked softly, leaning in yet a little closer, offering strength and comfort.

“Bandits.”

“I'm so sorry, I didn't want to open up an old wound.” Milly whispered, linking her arm in his.

“Nah! Don't be. It was such a long time ago!” Wolfwood protested scratching the back of his head with his free arm, trying to enjoy the contact despite the unpleasant train of thought. “That's why I opened my orphanage. So that other children would have a place to go, so they wouldn't have to grow up like I did.” He got very serious, “so they won't ever have to learn how to shoot a gun.”

Wolfwood looked at the stars. No child should have to learn to shoot a gun. No child should be forced to make the decisions he'd had to make. There was a long silence between them as he was wrapped in his thoughts, both looking at the stars and contemplating how each had come to be there at that time. He slowly became aware that his companion was now quite close to him, leaning on him. He could hear her breathing and feel her breath on his neck.

He slowly looked down at his companion.

Asleep.

“Asleep.” He sighed. It was probably better this way, he thought to himself, carefully extracting himself from the arms of his sleeping friend.

“Come on, big girl.” He said to himself as he carefully lifted her up and carried her back to the blanket and pillow next to her co-worker and tucked her in gently, smiling the funny little smile that he'd slowly come to associate with thoughts of Milly Thompson.

Careful to retrieve the blanket she'd given him Wolfwood moved away, back to his own lonely sleeping place, still with the rock as a pillow. At least now I'll be warmer, he thought to himself, resigning himself to his campsite. He lay down on his side, looking at the woman he was slowly coming to care for deeply and took a deep breath of the blanket that smelled like her.

“Goodnight… Milly.”

 

 

Well, I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at Fanfiction. I do hope to write more, as soon as I can sit myself down and think of some ideas. Please, let me know what you liked, didn't like, etc!

 

Thanks again!

- D.C