[ wolfwood is, without a doubt, going to give them a stink eye as he lights up another smoke when they try to play coy. they both know what they did—slip up to not—it’s how they view vash to wolfwood and that’s enough to earn the stare he gives them. though worse of all, probably, is the way that wolfwood suddenly imagines just how that would have gone should his """dearest""" be present with them. the mental image causing him to drag a hand over his face as he takes a long drag. ]

I’m so glad he’s not here to hear any of this. I’d never hear the end of it from him if he ever overheard someone say that.

[ because it was something that could easily be played as a joke even if they was a deeper meaning and a level of sincerity to it. vash had gotten worked up for far simpler niceties that wolfwood had thrown his way. and as the jokes subside and void archives takes their moment to get lost in their head, wolfwood waits it out to see what becomes of it. the results… feeling about right.

or, well, probably more than “about right”. it sort of feels like they’ve made some level of progress towards understanding things that aren’t entirely logical or reserved for things that are completely cold and unfeeling. it’s progress that wolfwood feels generous enough to “reward”. ]

Sure. I’ll accept yer thanks now for whatever the fuck my future self is gonna have to deal with.

[ ...in his own way. ]

However, if ya end up winnin' against the next cheap shot that guy takes at ya, I promise to express my gratitude for it when it happens.