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    Summary

    I could fix him, Vash thought as he sat on the rickety stool in the quiet bar, watching Wolfwood keep a flailing Meryl back by placing his hand on her head and holding her in place. Vash crossed his legs uncomfortably as Wolfwood smirked, a devious little quirk of his lips that made Vash hot all over, and tried to be normal for five seconds.

    It had been a couple years since Vash the Stampede last had sex. It wasn't that big of a deal, until Meryl hit the world's sexiest, bitchiest, most foul-mouthed priest on the planet with her car.

    What was the saying? God gave his hardest battles to his sexiest soldiers? Vash certainly felt like he was being tested right now.

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