AN: Okay... I'm not personally a big fan of Digimon. Just to put that one out there. I'm a fan of the characters and the intrigue behind their personalities, but i'm not a fan of the series itself. My brother is actually the one who makes me watch it when I baby sit him and I so totally had to perv the innocent series up by believing that there was something between the Commander Sampson and Thomas Norstein... Yeah, The big guy has a lolita complex... Anyway... Please don't flame me for this. Don't like? Don't read, simple as that. Comments are love and I believe in spreading the love so please comment if you read this story.

Sampson stared at the box on his desk as Thomas read the report he had written on his and Marcus' most recent mission. It was a plain white box, no ribbons or strings or anything on it. Just like he liked things, simple and no strings attached. How he had gotten mixed up in DATS was anyone's guess.

"Sir?" Sampson looked up as Thomas stared at him quizzically. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, fine." Sampson shook himself, straightening in his seat. "Continue."

Thomas paused before returning to reading his report. Sampson watched the younger man carefully behind his tinted glasses, his fingers laced in front of his face as he let his gaze wander over Thomas' body.

He was slender but muscular from his years of training smooth and soft, unlike Sampson's own battle-scarred form. Blonde hair feathered over his blue eyes and his mouth was always trained into a thin line. He placed a hand on his spandex-clad hip and Sampson's eyes were automatically drawn down there as Thomas tapped his thumb against his hip.

Damnit, why did they have to wear such tight clothes? He could see… What couldn't he see? Sampson tried to tear his gaze away but found the task impossible when Thomas' thumb moved to rub his hip in rhythmic circles.

Did the boy know what he was doing to his commander?! Did he enjoy teasing and pulling out these reactions from the older man?

Sampson looked up to say something but found himself speechless at the smirk gracing Thomas' usually cool and emotionless features.

"Is there something you would like, Sir?" Thomas asked innocently and Sampson felt his fists and stomach clench as he silently stared at his subordinate. His fourteen year old subordinate. Who was a genius. And a conniving little minx. And was placing the report on his desk next to the box. "Happy Birthday, Sir." Thomas stated softly before turning to leave, the door hissing shut behind him.

Sampson stared after the boy before moving his gaze to the box on his desk. He reached over and removed the lid, staring down at the thick, warm yellow scarf before him. He blinked, picking up the simple object. A note fluttered out of it to the floor and the commander leaned down to pick it up. He recognized Thomas' handwriting on the thin slip of paper.

'Wishing I was the one wrapped around your neck. ~~ Thomas'

Sampson blinked at the note before smirking, leaning back in his chair with the scarf in hand.

"What do you plan on doing?" Kudamon asked as he walked over to Sampson's desk, bounding onto the surface before climbing up to wrap around Sampson's neck, staring at the scarf curiously.

"Asking permission in like terms." Kudamon smirked at his partner's reply, flicking his tail gently as he chuckled at the entire affair.

It was a fascinating experience to be sure.

*

Thomas hadn't expected a present on his birthday from anyone other than his sister. His father was never one for such blatant shows of affection and his servants barely gave him a polite "yes, sir". He blinked and looked at James, his butler.

"Who gave you this?"

"An older man, sir, he said he didn't trust the mail and that he wanted to deliver it personally."

Thomas smirked and stood, taking the package with him, unwrapping the plain blue paper. Inside was a black leather and white mink coat and a neatly written note. Thomas flipped open the note and recognized his commander's precise handwriting.

'A mink coat for the minx, fitting?'

The note wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. Thomas smirked and pulled out the coat. It was short, only coming up to just below his ribcage, and seemed tailored to fit his body, the cuffs, collar and hem were lined with the soft white mink along with the inside, the smooth black leather on the outside complementing the opposing textures nicely. Thomas pulled the coat on and smirked, fingering the zipper as he pulled it halfway up, looking out the window of his estate with a thoughtful look.

"What are you going to do now?" Gaomon asked, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

"I have several ideas… But for now we can keep it simple…" Thomas turned to his Digimon and tilted his head. "Gaomon?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you think I was a minx?"