Notes: For the final time, there will be no Pokemon in this story. None. No Ash, no Brock. No Pikachu, no Meowth, no Jigglypuff, no Wigglytuff. None. Please, stop asking. I understand you want it, but I can't do it. I like the way the story is going (as in, pure Digimon).
This chapter's going to have a bit of humor in it. Why? Because I wanted a break from all the seriousness of the series. Also, the next chapter's going to be very serious, and very depressing. So, enjoy the lightness while you can!
I suggest you read "Gifts and Letters." The "shirt scene" will make sense, then.
Aardwulf— Yes, Joe cursing is a funny mental image. ;)
Nefertanya— Um, what's a GaPper? *gasps* A piece of Digimon lingo I don't know! I can't believe it. Uh, is it Gabumon and Palmon? Maybe? Educated guess. Eh... I hate not knowing.
Also, here's a quick lesson in Japanese. I use these terms because, well, I think they sound better than the English forms. Truly, they do!
bakayaro— bastard. *gasps* A curse! Well, that explains the PG13 rating.
baka— idiot; jerk.
itai— ow; ouch.
And I do appreciate mature feedback!
Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams are Made of This
Crimson. There was crimson on her hands. And on her legs, and on her chest. She tried to wipe it off, but it just smeared. It seemed to spread before her, covering her entire body, then going outward to blanket all that she could see. It was everywhere.
No, it wasn't. She reached her hand up, and touched her face. Oh... it was in her eyes. Blood in her eyes. She could feel it dripping its way down.
Sa... sa...
There was fire in front of her. Flames that licked at her bare feet, scorched her delicate green skin, and sent bitter smoke into her eyes. And over the roar of the inferno, were the screams of loved ones. Of people she held dear.
"Palmon! Palmon, help me!"
Fear gripped her heart. She looked up, desperately trying to see where the voice came from. "Mimi!" she hollered. "Where are you?"
"Palmon! Help me, please!" The shrill voice screamed in pain.
"Mimi!" she yelled back, her throat becoming tight and raw with terror.
...kur... sa...
There was a new voice above the chorus a screams. Not Mimi, it was far too masculine. He was in so much pain...
"Palmon!"
"Agu?" Tears spilled down her face, as crimson as the blood that dripped down before it. "Agumon!"
"Hel... help me!"
"How?" she demanded, as the wall of flames around her went higher. "I can't do anything. Agu! Mimi! Where are you?"
And the flames rose.
Sa... sa... kur...
And they closed in.
Kur... sakur...
And as she screamed, they enveloped her.
Sakura...
"No!" Palmon shot up, her blankets flinging off her from the sharp movement. She sat there for a moment, eyes wide, as she tried to settle her breathing. With shaking hands, she wiped the cold sweat from her face.
It was just a dream. A horrible nightmare, but not real. Yet, it seemed so very real. It wouldn't hurt just to make sure that Mimi was okay.
Taking a deep breath, Palmon slipped out of bed. Her legs wobbled a bit, but she steadied herself, and slipped out of the room. Her bare feet made muted tapping sounds against the wood floor, and she focused on it, trying to calm her nerves.
She reached Mimi's bedroom door, and softly, carefully swung it open. She slipped in, and sighed with relief upon seeing the safe, sleeping lump in the middle of the canopy bed. Mimi turned in her sleep, her pink hair slipping over her face. She murmured a bit, then snuggled deeper into the blankets.
The corners of Palmon's mouth tugged upwards into a small smile of fondness. Feeling a bit better, she quietly left the room, allowing her human partner to sleep without further interruption.
As she walked down the hall back to her room, she heard a whimpering sound. Palmon froze, steadying herself for an attack. The whimpering grew louder for a moment, then softer, until it stopped completely. She blinked in surprise and recognition, finally realizing what was making the painful sound.
He left his door open, much like Tai did. Silently, Palmon walked in, leaving the door slightly ajar. She spotted him wrapped up tightly in his blankets, his face pressed against his pillow. He was muttering every so often. Not painful anymore, but more confused.
Biting her lip, Palmon sat on the edge of his bed, and watched him.
It made no sense. No matter how many times his eyes scanned the word, he couldn't figure out the meaning behind it.
Aries.
What was that supposed to mean to him? He frowned, and sat down in front of the offending stone plaque. It was a bright day out, the sun making his brown hair shine and warm under its rays.
One orange hand reached out, its fingers tracing the word letter by letter.
Aries.
It was important. He knew it was. So why couldn't he figure it out?
"Having a problem, Agumon?" a familiar person asked.
"Tai," he looked up, and smiled at his Digidestined. He pointed to the plaque. "I don't know what it means."
"Hn," Tai leaned over, and narrowed his eyes on the word. "Well, that's interesting."
"What is?" he asked.
"Can't say," Tai shrugged, straightening his back.
"What?" he glared, confused. "Why not?"
"Hey, it's your dream, Agumon. Not mine," Tai answered, offhandedly. "Figure it out yourself. I'm not really here, anyway."
He blinked a few times, taken aback at the statement. He turned back to the stone, then back to Tai... but Tai was no longer standing there. Instead, a much more feminine figure had taken his place.
"Palmon?" he quirked a brow.
"Not so easy, is it, Agu?" she asked, pointing to the carved stone.
"No, it isn't," he agreed. Then, doubting he'd get what he wanted, but willing to try anyway, he asked, "Do you know what it means, Palmie?"
"Of course," Palmon said, smiling.
"You do?" he stared at her, hard. "What does it mean?"
"Silly Agu," she giggled. "I can't tell you that!"
"Why not?" he demanded, standing up.
"Because," she replied, still giggling, "you have to learn on your own." He was about to object, when she closed the gap between them with a few steps. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she tip-toed, her lips nearly touching his. He stood frozen, his heart pounding obnoxiously in his ears. They were too close. They were far too close for him to think clearly. "Wake up, Agu," she whispered.
Palmon started when Agumon's eyes snapped open. She hadn't expected him to wake up. When his eyes spotted her, he blinked a few times, muddled. She was suddenly glad of the darkness, for it was covering up her embarrassed blush.
"Palmie?" he croaked.
"Hi," she whispered, hoping she didn't sound as mortified as she felt.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes.
"Oh, uh, I had a small nightmare, that's all," Palmon stared down at her toes, feeling her face get warmer by the moment. "I just got up to shake off the quivers. I heard you muttering. Are you all right?" she asked, her eyes finally looking up to search his.
"I think so," he answered, trying to cover his yawning. She caught it, anyway.
"I'll let you sleep," she said, making a movement to stand up.
"No. Wait, Palmie," Agumon sat up, took her upper arm, and pulled her back.
Either she wasn't completely settled on her feet, or he was stronger than he looked. Maybe it was a bit of both. Regardless, the tug on her arm caused Palmon to fall ungracefully back onto the bed, right on top of Agumon, so that their faces were mere centimeters apart.
This time, it was Agumon's turn to blush, embarrassed. Though, Palmon was doing a fair share herself. Much to his surprise, however, she didn't make a move to get up.
"What do you want to ask me, Agu?" she tilted her head, waiting.
He stared at her for a moment, his brain still spazzing that she was so close. Then, when it finally settled, he asked, "Do you know what 'aries' means?"
"Aries... " she repeated, biting her lip in thought. "Oh, I recall reading about him in one of Mimi's myth books!" she beamed, proud that she knew the answer.
"Him?" Agumon raised a brow.
"Aries was the Greek God of War," Palmon explained. "Not the nicest of guys. He... he was also connected to fire a lot," she added, shuddering.
The Greek God of War? Agumon frowned. What an odd thing to dream of. What did he care about Greek mythology, anyway? He was so focused on his problem, that it took him a few minutes to realize Palmon was shaking.
"Palmie?" He reached to brush some stray hairs out of her face.
Fire. The thought made Palmon sick. After that dream, that awful dream, she didn't think she would ever look at fire the same way again. It had seemed so real. It had hurt so much. All the screams. She hadn't been able to get to Mimi because of the flames, and she could do nothing but listen to her best friend scream in agony. Her shivering got worse.
"Palmie?" Agumon prompted again.
She looked at him with troubled, tear filled eyes. "Agu," she whispered, brokenly, "can I stay here?"
"Nani?" he blinked.
"I know it's asking a lot," Palmon continued, her face one of hurt and fear. "But I just don't think I can stay in my room by myself. And I don't want to wake Mimi. Please, Agu?" she pleaded. "I don't want to be alone tonight."
He melted. How could he possibly say no to her when she looked like she was on the verge of crying? Those wide, pretty green eyes of hers just glistening like emeralds. He just couldn't stand the thought of her ever shedding tears. He'd do anything to prevent that.
"All right, Palmie," Agumon relented. "I'll-"
His suggestion that she would take the bed and he the floor was abruptly cut off, when she wrapped her arms about his neck, murmuring words of gratitude. Then, much to his surprise, she simply snuggled against him, resting her cheek on his chest, her hair tickling his neck and chin. She let out a small, relieved sigh, and relaxed. Right there. On top of him.
Agumon didn't know whether to be thrilled or terrified.
He opted to be mildly uncomfortable, until he knew for sure she was asleep. Then, he wrapped his arms protectively around her, settling into a more at ease position, and fell asleep himself.
"Spiral Twister!"
Nothing.
"Spiral Twister!"
Nothing still.
"SPIRAL TWISTER!"
Not even a small gust.
A growl emerged from the throat of a pretty pink skinned, blue haired girl. Biyomon had snuck into the back, after deciding that sleep was just not forthcoming. She thought maybe she could do something useful; finding out if they could still use their attacks was useful.
Too bad it wasn't happening.
She sighed, sitting down on the deck in defeat. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get it to work. The closest thing she had gotten to "Spiral Twister," was when she nearly hyperventilated when she repeated the phrase until her face turned purple.
The selfish side of Biyomon wanted to wake up Sora. Her Digidestined was always so talented at making her feel better. But, Biyomon couldn't bring herself to do it. After all, a good night's sleep was a rarity nowadays, and she didn't want to interrupt the few hours Sora managed to snag. Poor Sora was working overtime as the certified mother figure. She made sure nothing got out of hand, and that everyone was getting along as they should.
Well, except for Ken, who was only tolerated by Yolei.
Biyomon frowned at the thought of the former Digimon Kaiser. She still clearly remembered his attacks. All the pain, mental and physical, she had gone through because of his megalomania. If it were up to her, they'd have locked him up in his room and left him there. She almost wanted to hand him over to Trikmon. Almost. Her conscience just wouldn't let her go that far. But still, it was oh, so tempting...
With another heaving sigh, she picked herself up and headed back inside. As she walked through the patio door, she heard soft footsteps in the kitchen. Wondering who could be up at such a late hour, Biyomon walked over, with every intention of making her presence known.
However, when her bright blue eyes caught sight of the figure, all greetings died on her tongue. Ken stood there, his back to her. The fridge was open, and the harsh, artificial light illuminated his blue hair, making it shine with some strange, black magic.
Speak of the devil.
He poured himself a glass of water, turned around, and shut the fridge with his foot. When Biyomon saw his face, she bit her lips shut to stop from gasping. Ken was paler than usual, his skin glistening with sweat, and his eyes were surround by deep, dark circles. He looked absolutely awful.
"Bad dream?" Biyomon said allowed, before she could stop the words.
The boy's head snapped up, startled. When his eyes caught hers, he frowned. "Isn't it a little late to be up?" he shot back.
She blinked, surprised at his harshness. Then, she let it go. This was Ken, after all. She shouldn't expect simple things like manners. "Don't you know it's rude to answer a question with another question?" Biyomon ping-ponged, lightly. "You're up late, too, ya know? I just wanted to know if you were all right."
Ken growled, taking a quick sip of water. "It's just a migraine. No big deal. I get them all the time."
"Really?" she questioned, tilting her head in curiosity. "You look horrible."
"Why, thank you for saying so," he bit. His eyes were red with weary and pain, and his lips were pulled back in a snarl. It almost looked like he was baring fangs. "Have anymore bright observations? Or maybe you want to play twenty questions? Or can I go now?"
Biyomon bristled. "I was just concerned, okay? No need to bite my head off!"
"I don't need your concern," Ken told her, coldly. He closed his ice blue eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What I need is for you to leave me alone."
"Baka," she muttered.
He heard her. If looks could kill, Biyomon would've erupted in flames on the spot. With a shaky hand, Ken slammed his glass on the counter. Still glaring, he stormed passed her, albeit rather clumsily. He made it to the staircase before grasping his skull, and moaning in discomfort.
As much as Biyomon disliked him, she did feel sorry for him. "Did you take anything for it?" she asked from her standpoint.
He shook his head. "I-I told you, I don't need anything! Leave me be."
She snorted, not quite believing what she was about to do. She walked over to his abandoned glass to pick it up, then walked over to the spice rack. She found the item a couple days ago by looking in the rack for cinnamon. Now, where was it... ? Ah, there!
Knowing full well she was acting like a glutton for punishment, Biyomon walked over to Ken, who had only managed to get up four steps, before gripping the banister in nausea.
"Here," she said, holding out the glass and a couple of aspirin. "It'll help."
He glowered at her. "Why won't you-"
"Because you need help," Biyomon said, simply. "I like to help people. It's just who I am. `Sides," she added, "Yolei would never forgive me if you were in pain, and I didn't do anything about it. Now, take them."
Ken stared hard at her for a moment, then turned his attention to the pain relievers and the water. With a small grunt of defeat, he took the offering, swallowing the pills with a quick gulp.
"There," Biyomon smiled. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
He gave her an odd look, and her smile widened a bit. If she hadn't known any better, she would've sworn he was pouting. He was almost cute when he did that, she mused. Maybe that's why Yolei was so fond of him.
"Arigato, Digimon," Ken uttered, without looking at her. He stood up, and began to make his way upstairs.
"Biyomon," the girl corrected him. "That's my name."
"Whatever." He didn't even turn around, just walked up the rest of the stairs and disappeared.
"'Whatever?' That bakayaro!" she swore, then mentally scolded herself for doing so. She glared up the stairs, no longer seeing the irritating man child.
Yes, he was cute, but damn, was he ever obnoxious!
How very odd this was.
She shouldn't be here.
Very odd, indeed. Dark, quiet. Forbidden.
She shouldn't be here.
He looked so peaceful when he slept. The sly moonlight that managed to sneak its way through the blinds spilled across his features in a delicate display. Like fingers of light caressing him.
She shouldn't be here.
But, she didn't want to leave. Of course, she'd have to leave before morning. Before he woke up and knew of her presence. She'd never be able to explain herself if she was caught.
She wondered if these confusing feelings inside her were akin to affection. Didn't she feel this way towards Wizardmon? Of course, that was more along the lines of strong friendship, but still... She'd always been rather fond of the wizard Digimon. Very fond. It had hurt to lose him, but at least he'd come back. After years, anyway.
But he wasn't Wizardmon in any way, shape or form. For one thing, she doubted Wizardmon would be so young had he been turned human. Also, Wizardmon was much more sure of himself, much more worldly. He, on the other hand, was clutzy and insecure. Soft spoken and easily trod on. She didn't know what she found so interesting in him.
But there was something there. Something special in his laugh. And how he could care about everyone, even that horrid Ken.
Unconditional acceptance. He encompassed it. It was a rare gift that she had seen in only a select few. It was something not to be taken lightly or for granted. It was something to be treasured.
He turned in his sleep, purple hair falling carelessly about his green face. A lock tickled his nose, and she panicked for a moment when he fidgeted. He quickly settled down, though, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief.
She had to go. Reluctantly, she stood up and walked to the door, opening it with hardly a creak.
"`Night, Wormmie-kun," she whispered, closing the door behind her.
"It's staring at me again," Iori stated.
"I don't believe you," Armadimon said, flatly. "You're paranoid."
"I'm telling you, it's staring!" the little boy declared.
"Fine," Armadimon sighed, pushing his friend gently out of the way. "Let me see."
Iori shuffled back on the bad, allowing the digimon to peek through the blinds. Armadimon's shining aqua eyes stared out into the darkness for a moment. His face was blank, and the little boy wondered what his friend was thinking as he gazed at the strange creature that was Ghastlymon. Finally, Armadimon turned his golden head toward Iori.
"Ya know what?" the digimon asked.
"What?" the boy inquired.
"I think it's staring."
"That's what I've been telling you for the past two days!" Iori said, angry.
"Well, yeah, but," Armadimon shrugged, "I just thought it looked that way towards everyone."
"No," Iori shook his head, his voice lowering. "Just me."
"Creepy," Armadimon crinkled his nose. Then, he smiled, encouragingly. "Don't worry, Iori. I'm here to protect you."
"How?" the small boy challenged.
The digimon blinked. "Well, um, I'll think of something."
"That's not very encouraging," Iori mumbled, shaking his head.
"Hey," Armadimon ruffled his friend's neat hair. "I'm not gonna let it hurt you. Never. Don't you worry about a thing. Just because I can't digivolve doesn't mean I'm harmless."
"Hmmm... " Iori thought about contradicting that statement, but thought better of it. His friend was only trying to make him feel better. Armadimon smiled brightly at him, and Iori offered his best half smile. It was all he could do. "All right. I believe you."
"Good!" Armadimon whooped, tussling Iori's hair even more, much to the little boy's vocalized dismay. "Now, let's ignore the walking Jell-O mold, and go back to sleep."
The golden boy climbed out of Iori's bed and over to his own. As if he hadn't slept in days, the instant his head hit the pillow, he was in the Land of Nod. Iori didn't know how his friend could do that.
Truth be told, Iori was grateful that he was sharing a room with Armadimon. With the Ghastlymon out there, it was comforting to have his friend by his side all the time, even if he was asleep. But still, the boy doubted anyone could keep him safe from the thing that waited outside for him. He had this feeling, this awful, gut wrenching feeling that the Ghastlymon was going to get exactly what it wanted; his death.
The thought made Iori shudder in his blankets.
"Father, if you're up there listening," he whispered, his eyes shut tightly in concentration, "protect me, please. Father, please? I need your strength."
There was no answer, only deafening silence.
"I still can't believe there's a car on my front lawn," Mimi bemoaned, as soon as most people were getting up.
Matt rubbed his still sleep filled eyes. "Mimi, it's been there for two days now."
"I know, but just... just look at it!" she declared, hotly, pointing out the living room window. "It destroyed my Daddy's perfectly green lawn. He's going to kill me. And I'm going to kill you two!" She yelled over Matt's head, making both Joe and Jun cringed.
"We didn't mean to do it," the auburn haired girl murmured, slipping hastily into the kitchen.
"We didn't have a choice. Honest," Joe added, quickly following, in order to avoid the fury that was Mimi Tachikawa.
"Didn't mean to? No choice? There's a friggin' car on my front lawn!" she hollered.
Matt blinked, fully awake now. He stared, shocked by the swear that slipped out of his friend's usually clean mouth. "Mimi?"
She turned her glare on him, and Matt suddenly had the urge to run away with his tail between his legs. He had never seen her look so... so... vicious. Even Myotismon never looked this intimidating. One of Mimi's eyebrows twitched in irritation, and Matt fought the need to squeal and run for his life while he still had the chance. He was stronger than her. Surely, he could take her, if need be. Surely...
Mimi's glare faded, however. Much to his relief. She sighed defeated, her head hung down. "Gomen, Yama-chan," she whispered. "This... hasn't been the best of weeks. I'm just so worried for them."
It was suddenly all clear to him. Her parents, of course. Mimi had such a close relationship with them. Not knowing how they were must be killing her. No wonder she was on edge. He frowned at his friend's sad face. Mimi never looked good when she was depressed. Well, actually she did, but he much preferred her smiling.
His face lit up then, a grin sliding across it. Silently, he left Mimi at the window, and hurried himself upstairs to his room. He searched through the clothing he had taken from home. He had to have brought it with him. He just had to have. Where was it? —he searched through the messy pile he had made— Where? —he searched what was left in his suitcase— Where, dammit?!
Score!
He hastily put it on, smoothing out the few wrinkles that had embedded themselves into the soft fibers. After taking a good look at himself in the mirror, Matt was satisfied with himself. It'd do.
As he walked out of the room, he bumped into T.K. His younger brother stared at him for a moment, blinking. Suddenly, much to Matt's chagrin, his sibling began to grin.
"Why, Matt, you sly dog, you," T.K. snickered. "Trying to impress someone, are we?"
"Shut up, twerp," Matt smacked his brother on the arm.
T.K. didn't seem to care, still sniggering. "Go get `er, hot stuff!"
"Shut up!" Matt snarled, blushing from the neck up. "Baka."
Keeping the death glower on his face, he walked away from his chuckling younger brother. He made his way down the stairs, slowly relaxing as he did so. Didn't matter what T.K. thought. He was just acting like a punk kid brother should. He shouldn't take it so personally.
Mimi was still at the window, her eyes fixated outside, but her mind obviously a million miles away. As silently as possible, Matt snuck up behind her, and placed his hands over her eyes.
"Guess who, Mimi-chan," he whispered, a grin in his voice.
"Matt, really," she sighed, taking his hands away and turning to him. "I don't feel like... "
Her words died on her tongue when she looked at him. His hair was the same, his pants, too. So were his face and stance. But he'd changed his shirt. It was white now, buttoned down, with jagged, blue stripes. She remembered this shirt. She had bought this shirt!
Mimi's lips trembled, and she gazed up at him in surprise. "You... ? You actually... ?"
"I actually what?" he prompted, mouth quirked in amusement.
"I didn't know if you'd like it," she admitted, softly, her expression somewhere in between tears and smiles. "You never told me. I didn't even know if you kept it."
"Of course, I did," Matt shrugged, nonchalantly, though secretly pleased that he had brightened her mood. "Would be stupid to throw out a perfectly good shirt. `Sides," he added, conspiratorially, "I kinda think I look cool in it. So," he said louder, spinning once for her inspection, "what do you think?"
Mimi's red-brown eyes glittered with unshed tears, and while she shook her head, she was smiling. "I think... I think... " In an instant, her arms were wrapped around Matt's neck tighter than steel bars, nearly knocking the boy onto his back. "I think you're so sweet, Yama-chan!"
He couldn't help it. Yamato Ishida, The Man, Mr. Cool himself... blushed. And not just slightly, but full blown, fire truck red, his face burning with embarrassed heat. Not that he was going to push her away anytime soon.
"Whoo hoo!" Someone whooped from the kitchen. "Ishida shoots! Ishida scores!"
"Taichi no baka!"
*WHAM!*
"Itai! Sora, what did you do that for?"
Mimi giggled into Matt's ear, and he simply blushed harder.
Upstairs, Gabumon was trying to discuss how to go about defeating Trikmon. Unfortunately, he was talking to Gomamon, who, being the local smart mouth, was generally ignoring him.
"C'mon, Gabumon," the redheaded digimon rolled his eyes. "Gimme a break. It's morning. I'm hungry. Let's just wake up Agumon, and go downstairs before Veemon eats everything."
"I'm just trying to find out a way to solve everything," Gabumon huffed.
"Well, what you're accomplishing is putting me to sleep," Gomamon quipped. "Sheesh, even Joe isn't this bad!"
Gabumon raised an eyebrow. "I wonder what Joe would say to that."
Gomamon looked at him, and narrowed his eyes in mock seriousness. "Don't you threaten me, or I'll tell Biyomon to beat you up."
It was Gabumon's turn to roll his eyes.
With a smug grin, Gomamon swung open Agumon's door... and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh, my... "
"What?" Gabumon asked, walking over. "What's wro— Oh, my... "
Agumon was sleeping sound on his back, his head tilted to the side, sloppy brown hair covering his orange face. And still sleeping on top of him was Palmon, with her cheek on his chest, and his right arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
"Well, doesn't that just beat all?" Gomamon asked, smirking. "It's always the leader types that get the girl. No, never the funny, trickster guy! Always the strong, leader guys. There's just no justice in this world," he sniffled, melodramatically.
Gabumon ignored him, too shocked to say anything. He'd handled stronger, larger, meaner digimon without flinching. He'd nearly died —multiple times!— and never blinked. But this! This was just... too strange. Maybe he was still dreaming. Yes, that had to be it. This was all a dream! When he'd wake up, he'd still be a normal digimon, and none of this nonsense would've happened.
"Hey!" Patamon called, Tentomon right behind him. He walked up with a smiling face. "What are standing here for?"
"Oh, nothing!" Gabumon covered the small boys eyes. "Nothing at all!"
Curious, Tentomon looked into the room, and his pale green eyes bulged. He stared wordlessly back at Gabumon, obviously thinking along the same lines.
"What are you covering my eyes for?" Patamon demanded. "Leggo!"
"Oh, give it up, Gabumon," Gomamon reached over, and rescued the little boy. "It's not like they're naked or anything."
"Huh? What do you... ?" Patamon looked inside the room. "Ee-!"
Gomamon covered the boy's mouth. "Of course, some precautions should be taken."
"This is highly immoral of us," Tentomon noted, though his eyes hadn't left the bed. "We shouldn't be spying on them like this."
"Hey, we're not doing anything wrong," Gomamon shrugged. "It's not like we were planning on spotting their little love tryst."
"Gomamon!" Gabumon smacked the redhead's shoulder. "Not in front of the child!"
"I'm not a child," Patamon stated, once he pulled Gomamon's hand away from his mouth.
"You tell `im," Gomamon encouraged, grinning.
"Shut up. You're not helping, baka," Gabumon glowered.
"Such language!" Gomamon gasped, eyes overly wide. "And right in front of 'the child!' What would Matt say?"
"If I could Blue Blaster you, I'd-"
"What are you all standing about for?" The cultured voice of Hawkmon asked.
"Hawkie!" Gomamon grinned, almost demonically. "Join the party."
"Eh?" the white haired young man looked cautious. "Party?"
"I don't believe this," Gabumon muttered under his breath. "Agumon's gonna kill us all if he wakes up."
"Agumon? You're worried about Agumon?" Tentomon questioned. "I'm wondering just how violent Palmon will get. Women do tend to act a bit more... ah, violent when they're embarrassed."
"I still don't see why you're all... Is that dear Palmon sleeping atop our brave Agumon?" Hawkmon blinked, face twitching.
"That's such a poetic way of saying it," Gomamon chuckled. "Who'da thunk Agumon had it in him, huh? Itai!" He rubbed the bump that was suddenly growing on his head. He pouted. "You're so mean, Gabumon."
"You really shouldn't question dear Palmon's integrity like that," Hawkmon scolded. "They're both dressed. And she's not, ah, under the covers with him. I'm sure nothing happened. Like that, anyway."
Suddenly, the lady in question finally stirred. The small band in the doorway froze like deer in headlights. To run or not to run? Too late. No choice. She spotted them.
"Meep!" Palmon squealed, sufficiently loud and high enough to not only make the men grasp their ears, but to wake Agumon, as well.
"Whas tha?" he murmured, throat dry from sleep.
Gomamon was the first to recover, and he grinned like a wolf. "Agumon, you stud!"
That woke the orange skinned boy up completely. His green eyes shot open. "Nani? Ah, get out!" he demanded of the people in the doorway.
"You heard him," Gomamon said, all too happy to oblige and continue his teasing. "Romeo wants to have a private moment with Juliet."
"Gomamon, you big dork!" Palmon snarled, her face flushed. She yanked the pillow out from under Agumon's head, and flung it full force at Gomamon, hitting him squarely, satisfyingly in the face.
Gabumon barely held down his chuckle of amusement. "We're sorry we disturbed you two," he apologized, shuffling everyone out, including a pouting Gomamon. "We'll just leave now."
"Wait," Agumon said, hastily sitting up. "This is not what you think!"
"No, it's not!" Palmon readily agreed. "Not at all!"
"Of course, it isn't," Tentomon said, thought not sounding very believable. "It's just a big misunderstanding."
"That's right, it is!" Agumon insisted. "Palmie had a bad dream last night. She didn't want to be alone, so I said she could spend the night here... and... " his voice trailed as he realized how the story sounded. Beside him, Palmon groaned, mortified.
"You da man, Agumon!" They heard Gomamon declare as Gabumon hurriedly closed the door, blushing himself. "You da man! You da— Itai! Gabumon, you're so mean!"
Next Chapter: Sacrifice On the Battlefield
