Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, the concept, or its characters. They belong to Bandai, Toei Animation, Saban... maybe others as well. I'm merely using them for my own personal enjoyment. Please don't sue.

Notes: You can think my friend Sunneh for this batch of insanity. She supplied me with the idea sometime last year, and our various MSN chats since then have only added to the chaos. Still, I think I'm going to have loads of fun writing this. Not sure how many chapters this will be, but hopefully it'll be enjoyable the whole way through.

This is only the prologue, so I apologize for the shortness. The chapters will definitely have more length to them.

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A Touch of Spice
By: Daystar-chan

"May the best man - or woman - win." And then her eyes flash dangerously, and that devilish smirk appears on her face faster than he can blink, and he finds himself wishing that he had never accepted this challenge. "Don't worry, Yamato. She will." (Mimi, Sora, Taichi, Yamato)
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To be completely honest, Yamato doesn't remember how he got himself into this.

All he knows for sure is that, for some insane reason, he's agreed to it.

He's standing there, facing her, holding his hand out, and he's doing his best to look sure of himself - and his abilities.

She doesn't have to try.

She's been practicing for the last four years around the house, learning from her mother, and she's even considering going to a culinary arts school once she can save up enough money. There's no doubt, no uncertainty on her face, and it unnerves him.

Just a little.

But it's enough to warrant a raised eyebrow from her because she can see just how hesitant he really is.

Her hand finally meets his, and they shake, and he hates the fact that he feels so nervous. Yamato swallows down a lump in his throat. He wants his voice to appear confident, wants to be able to wear his confidence like she can.

"It's settled then," he hears Sora say, and they both nod, eyes fixed on each other; and before anything can be said between them, Taichi is talking.

"Two weeks from today, you two owe us a feast." He grins, quickly ducking to avoid a smack from Sora, before glancing to them. "We'll all meet back here on Saturday, the sixteenth, at noon. If anyone misses out... well, tough luck. I'm not saving anything for you."

There's laughter from the other Chosen, and he can hear Daisuke saying something along the same line to the younger kids.

And then it's silent, and he's sure everyone's staring at them, waiting for them to do or say something - anything.

Yamato waits to see if she's going to act first, but she doesn't. She simply stares at him, her hand still wrapped around his, and she looks way too calm for his liking; and Sora and Taichi are exchanging nervous glances, looking worried.

"May the best man - or woman – win," he blurts out, and it's the only thing that comes to mind, but it's a honest sentiment, because he really does hope that the best cook wins the challenge. But he's grinning, and he can tell by the way her grip on his hand tightens that's she taking it the wrong way.

And then her eyes flash dangerously, and that devilish smirk appears on her face faster than he can blink, and suddenly, almost against his own will, he finds himself wishing that he had never accepted this challenge.

"Don't worry, Yamato. She will."