A/N: And we have passed the halfway point!  There is an intense romantic scene, but no sex so don't worry.  We also meet another antagonist who, though less of one than the Shadow Mode, is still quite evil.  Here are the responses to your reviews of the last chapter because I'm a good girl:

To vandegatomoncat: Let's see… I think it was after we went to Subway and I went to some place to get a DVD… maybe they put something in my sub that gave me inspiration ^^

To blackmage718: Here is more… and there's more to come!

To MegaScythe: … at least you apologized for it.  And I'm glad you think AngeMyo is cool too!

So enjoy, and please review!  (I just realized like writing these responses! ^^)

Chapter 6

The Search

  Gatomon was completely unaware of the angel photo fiasco, but Kari felt an urge to ask her digimon partner if she was with an angel, and if she knew that Chip Tajiri had gotten a picture of her.

  The white cat, anticipating the next moment when she would see Myotismon, asked for Kari to leave the window open slightly so she could get some fresh air.  With the evening being slightly warmer than it had been that week, it was an offer the keeper of light could not refuse.  She awaited the moment of escape anxiously, her tail twitching and eyes darting to various points around the room.

  Finally, Tai and Agumon entered the room and fell asleep right away.  Kari flicked on a small lamp, took out a book, and began to read.  Gatomon did not snuggle next to her under the covers, where it was warm and fuzzy, but rather curled up at the foot, appearing to be dozing but actually holding her eyes halfway open, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies.

  Then Kari yawned, stretched, put the book on her nightstand, and turned off the light.  "Good night, Gatomon," said a voice from out of the darkness.

  The cat waited.  The glowing red numbers on the digital clock read 9:30, and by what she remembered it took Kari about fifteen minutes to completely enter dreamland.  For Tai, she knew he was asleep when he began to snore at 9:32.  The numbers changed slowly, and time passed like flowing molasses.  It was pure torture for her, being overwhelmed with desire for Myotismon— or ANGE Myotismon, to be more precise— and then being deprived of him.

  Finally, at 9:42, she slipped out of her statue-like position, and climbed onto Kari's desk, cautious not to rattle any pencils or knock anything over.  She saw her portal—the window outside.  Its white curtains were blowing in the chilly gusts, almost like angels' wings or robes.  Gatomon breathed in, then slipped through the crack that was just large enough for her to fit through.  She jumped off the concrete windowsill outside, then glowed pink.

  "Gatomon, digivolve to… ANGEWOMON!"

  The angel had replaced the cat, emitting a pink glow that followed her as she flew through the air, giving the illusion of a pink comet.  She spread her white wings like a bird, then flew upwards towards her ultimate destination.

  She whipped her head around, straining her sight for what even looked remotely like her dark angel.  Finally, she saw him standing on a cloud like a statue, his wings hanging down his back like his cape, clutching his moon staff as if he must protect it like a crown jewel, his golden hair blowing away from his face in the gentle breeze above the clouds.

  Angewomon landed gently onto the surface, her feet feeling the cool softness of the cloud and her heart skipping a beat, seeing that Myotismon was just as handsome as ever in the moonlight.  "AngeMyotismon… how I ever missed you…" she told him, slipping into his arms and laying her head against his chest.  How smooth, how firm… he smelled so good she desired to breathe in to get his scent.  He was also so… so warm.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and clasped them together on the other side.

  "I have also missed you," replied Myotismon, running one of his hands through the angel maiden's soft blonde hair and stroking her back like a cat.  He had never had any affection like this shown towards him, and he had never given any form of affection towards any female digimon before.  Why?  Had his blackened heart blocked out whatever silly redundant emotions got in his way of world domination, or had he always had a soft spot for female humanoid digimon his entire existence but never able to express it in the right way?

  Angewomon blushed, her cheeks turning a deep pink that was nearly red.  She had never felt this kind of love before, and she let her love get the best of her.  She took Myotismon's hand in hers, and slowly let herself fall onto the surface of the cloud, taking Myotismon with her.  She fell forward, landing right on the vampiric angel and wrapping her arms around him, laying her head on the curve of his neck, smelling him and letting out a small moan of pleasure.

  "This reminds me of something…" she reminisced, pulling herself away and sliding onto one side of him, blushing with pleasure when he wrapped a thin but muscular arm around her.  "I have felt this way before… I know it!  When I was with… you."

  Myotismon remembered all.  He knew that once he had taken pity on Gatomon after she got injured on a mission, by giving her a night with him, where he stripped down to his waist and actually came very close to making love to her.  For some reason, he got jealous of Wizardmon and eventually turned it into a hatred for him that could never be extinguished.  He made a desperate attempt to get Gatomon back with him, by coming ever so close to removing his mask— the very mask no one had ever seen him without.  Not even Demidevimon or his bats had seen him without the red cover on his upper face, only showing his blue eyes.  They never knew the well-guarded secret to why he wore it.  Only he did.

  "You never showed me what was under your mask," whispered Angewomon, stroking the side of his face.  "Why don't you show me now?"

  "The mask?" asked Myotismon, suddenly drawing away.  "I will not show you anything," he declared, defensive of his past.  "Not until we truly love each other."

  Angewomon looked disappointed.  "When will that be?" she wondered.  "How long will that take?"

  "When you love me enough, you will remove your helmet."

  "But the helmet is forbidden to being removed, and not even I am permitted to do so!  Only an angel whose rank is higher than mine is permitted to see my face underneath!  But… you are Ange Myotismon, my first true love ever.  I will take off this silver abomination when you perform three truly angelic acts, proving you to be courageous and just, truly caring about others enough to want to act that way."

  "I care for you," said Myotismon.  "You are the first digimon in my life who has truly loved me.  And for you… a night you have dreamed of!"  He let Angewomon fall onto him, and the two locked their lips in a passionate kiss.

  Meanwhile, Chip Tajiri had gathered the believers of Tokyo, including one news team complete with heavy cameras, microphones, and a reporter, in the middle of the park.  He was standing in the center, next to the grey cement fountain that spurted small streams of water in the warmer months of the year, but was now turned off lest the water freeze.  Next to him was an elongated silver telescope perched on a tripod, its eye pointed at the heavens.  Surrounding Chip was a mob of about three hundred people, most of which were middle-school students and the incredibly gullible adults, and several held binoculars and telescopes.  All of them were shivering violently beneath their coats as their breath escaped in small white clouds, huddled together in clumps.

  "When will they show up?" questioned an impatient member of the crowd.  "I'm freezing my butt off!"

  "Patience, patience," assured Chip as he cleaned his fogged-up glasses with his mittens.  He put them back on, where they slid down his nose, which was red from the cold.  Then, out of curiosity, he peered into his telescope, then slowly panned it around at different angles until he saw the figures on a cloud, seeming to be making out.  "Bingo!" he whispered, zooming in.  And there was, as clear as day, the angelic duo.

  "EVERYONE!" Chip announced, spreading his arms as he faced the crowd.  "Point your telescopes to the east, at 46 degrees, and you will find the angels!"  He paused, seeing no one seemed to believe him.  He knew there was one thing he had to say, one two-word phrase that automatically made at least half the people in the area to listen.  Then he whispered loudly enough for the crowd to hear, "They're having sex!"

  That got people looking through their telescopes, furiously setting their telescopes to the correct position.  Gasps and sounds of awe escaped the mouths as they viewed Angewomon and Myotismon, engaged in activity that might have not been sexual, but very romantic.  The news reporters shoved their way past to peer through the telescope, and they as well saw what they were looking for, so the cameramen zoomed in the cameras as closely as possible.

  Of course, the live broadcast got news viewers to tell their friends to tune in to that station, not to mention the witnesses dialing their friends and saying, "Channel 7 News!  FAST!",  and even see the angels for themselves, which got other news stations to announce the news of angel sightings as "this just in" messages.  The vicinity of Tokyo knew, and everyone called and emailed everyone they knew with an announcement that they had seen two angels above their city.  Friends told friends, and it was only a mere few minutes before entire cities knew.  The news of the angel sightings spread like wildfire, at first local news, then regional news, then national news, and finally world news by the next morning.

  "Oh Myotismon… I never knew your kisses were so sweet," Angewomon complimented, drawing away.  "This night was as beautiful as you, but I'm afraid I must go…"

  "I await your next coming," replied Myotismon.  "Until then, I will be incognito to the rest of the world.  Adieu, my love."  He kissed Angewomon's hand, and the maiden took off into flight, her destination the Kamiya apartment.

  All this was viewed by all of Tokyo and its metropolitan area.

  The next morning, Kari carried Gatomon in her arms to the kitchen, where Mrs. Kamiya was puttering around the kitchen, trying to put together a good breakfast, and Mr. Kamiya was reading the newspaper.  In the front, the huge, black, bold headline ANGELS SIGHTED IN TOKYO! blared on a third of the page, another third of the page were two blown-up cover photos.  One was the first photo taken of the angels, the one from the cafeteria; the other was Chip's school picture.  The rest was filled with text regarding the front-page headline.

  The small television in the kitchen was also turned on, and that was what had awoken the cat from her half-slumber.

  "…our top story today is considered to be among the most interesting headlines.  The Christian holiday Christmas is coming soon, which means a tree, wreaths, ornaments, candy canes, snow, bells, and of course, angels.  It seems that people are getting into holiday spirit, because they saw two angels above Tokyo last night at about 9:45, engaged in deep romantic activity."

  Gatomon quickly opened her eyes and felt provoked to scream.  I can't believe this!  Someone discovered us!  How could I have been this stupid, this ignorant?  She burned underneath her fur coat, which concealed everything, as she saw a picture of her with Myotismon on the screen.

  "These angels," the reporter contined, looking at the cue screen, "were first sighted by eleven-year old Charles Tajiri of the Odaiba district on Friday and photographed that night.  By last night, everyone wanted to get a good look at these two before they both flew away and unable to be seen.  No one knows if these angels are a godsend or a hoax, but everyone wants them, including this American billionaire from Los Angeles in the United States."

  The screen's image switched from the news reporter in the studio to a conference room in Los Angeles, where all cameras are focused on a man, who announced, "These angels are truly for real, and if I am able to obtain one of them and study them up close, our world will be able to know the truth about all the questions Christianity has offered its followers.  For whoever is watching this broadcast, there will be a hunt for these rare beings, a reward offered for them both.  I am willing to offer $7 million American for the female angel, and $10 million for the male."

  Gatomon gasped, a lump forming in her throat.  If any human got their hands on her or Myotismon, they could get killed by a strange human whose ambition was to capture them for research purposes.  Angels were all about mystery, subtlety, and well-guarded secrets.  She made a mental note to stay inside, no matter what the circumstances.  Luckily for her, Kari was too busy getting her breakfast—eggs and toast—to notice the broadcast.

  However, Gatomon was not able to admonish Myotismon.  She thought he knew already… but he had no clue as to what had occurred.

  The man who had offered the immense rewards was extremely wealthy.  Everyone who knew of this man were informed that he was rich because he was an entrepeneur as well as an expert in the stock market and owning successful business.  But in reality, his enormous wealth came from CRIME.  He was the leader of all the organized and unorganized crime in Los Angeles, with several men trained to commit whatever theft was needed to keep him rich.  If they were thrown in jail, he helped them escape with the money that he had acquired from several things like ransom.  He was an evil man indeed, but a very unsuspected one.

  This man was around thirty-five years old, with fair skin covering a husky figure from years of fine dining.  His eyes, with thick black eyebrows like caterpillars above them, were deep-set and dark brown, and not tired-looking at all.  The rest of his face was once very handsome, but one could tell it was slowly going to seed like all faces do as they age.  His hair was black and slicked back so it looked greasy, still covering the top and not even slightly balding.  He always dressed in neatly-pressed, crisp suits with matching ties and shiny shoes.  His name was Robert Rosseau, but he was always addressed by his surname.

  Rosseau lived in a very large mansion in the wealthy region of Los Angeles, white and complete with large windows, pillars, turrets, and spacious indoor rooms taking up three floors.  The estate was complete with two swimming pools, a tennis court, and a menagerie.  The menagerie was Rosseau's pride and joy, a private zoo filled with unusual, rare, and colorful creatures, many of which had been poached from the wild, but placed on a magnificent reserve that stayed pleasant all year round, with feeding and all essentials except for the makings of a true habitat.  All of the sections were filled except for the largest, which was hidden by red velvet curtains.  Rosseau had been saving that for the best and rarest life of all.

  As the affluent man settled down in his easy chair in his study (filled with books about money and crime, with one or two works of American literature hidden amongst them in the shelves, collecting dust and cobwebs), his butler brought him a cup of tea and asked, "Sir, what are you planning to do with the angels?"

  Rosseau thoughtfully sipped his drink and replied, "James, do you recall that area of the menagerie that I have been reserving for the greatest animals?  I am planning to hold the angels captive in there, where I will charge admission for people to see them up close.  I will become a richer man than ever, possibly the greatest in the world."

  "What will happen when the angels are no longer of use?"

  "They will die, then.  James, get the jet for a flight to Tokyo, and bring with me our finest men.  Desperate times call for desperate measures."

  As Rosseau's private jet took off that day, Myotismon had taken the liberty of donning a long trenchcoat that concealed his body and wings, as well as a hat that managed to shadow his face.  He walked the streets for hours, attempting to act like part of the crowd, including shivering when snow fell from the sky and stopping to gaze into store windows.

  "So many angels…" he whispered, seeing the window display that had been erected that morning in a sculpture store.  Since the news of angel sightings began, all shops seemed to use angels as their advertising gimmick.  In that sculpture store's case, ribbed white draperies hung down from above the window and covered the walls and ground of the display, which was a marble statue of an angel mounted on a marble stand.  The angel looked nothing like a digital one; it had long, wavy hair and had a halo and two wings, a long, loose robe flowing over its body down to its feet.  Its head was turned upwards and hands were extended towards the heavens as if in prayer.  "All have looked the same to me.  Two wings… a halo in place of a helmet… skin with color in it… a loose robe that conceals its body… all unlike me."  He saw himself in his mind, with his six bat wings, crimson mask, and scanty white bodysuit.  He knew he was also too pale, too skinny, and too tall to fit in with these rosy, plump angels as portrayed in paintings.  Even Angewomon had some true color in her skin, with blush-pink lips and rosy cheeks.  "None of them look like me… what an outcast I am…"

  The snow began to fall in large white clumps, and the half-angel looked at his feet in despair.  He looked down the street and saw a building at the end that appeared miniscule in comparison to the monstrous skyscrapers that stretched to great heights around it.  It had two wooden doors that were cracked open in front, a stone statue placed on each side of it.  On the other sides were stained-glass windows.  There was a slanted, shingled roof on top, and at the front there was an extension to the body that towered up as a steeple, which had a hole in it that held two large golden bells, now still.  Perched on top of the steeple was a small golden cross.

  Somehow Myotismon found himself to be drawn to the place, slowly nearing it with each step.

  At that exact time, two sinister crafts entered the vicinity of Tokyo.  One subtly, the other making a grand entrance.  Both of which were a threat to Myotismon in at least one way, but he only knew of one of them.

  He reached the stone steps that led to the doors of the diminuitive church.  Without a word, he pushed them forward and entered its main hall, where the masses were held.  The ceilings were covered with a large painting of angels flying through a golden sky with fluffy peach-colored clouds, the seraphs looking exactly the way the sculptures and other displays depicted them.  The floors were stone and lined with wooden pews on the sides, with a narrow aisle in between.  The white walls on the sides were taken up by stained-glass windows depicting biblical scenes and fifteen dark brown plaques with scenes with each station of the cross shown on them.  At the front, the walls were draped in violet cloth.  There was a platform, and on it was a podium covered with identical cloth.  Two chairs stood in the back, and an altar with a white cloth on top was placed in front of it.  Behind the platform and in front of the wall there was a large wooden cross lined in gold.  The silence within could not be broken.

  The disguised angel wandered down the aisle and sat in the wooden pew near the center.  He slowly sat down and stared at the elaborately-painted portrayal of angels above him.  He grew more saddened as he realized how much of a freak of nature he truly was.

  He let his eyes fall downward until he saw an open book on the pew, its pages marked by a long pink ribbon.  A line of text caught his eye: "May the angels lead you into paradise."

  Leading them into paradise.  I feel that it is my duty to do so… to be led into my own true paradise with Angewomon at my side.  I have feelings for her that I have never experienced before.  She is beautiful both physically and emotionally, but she is a true angel.  I do not know if we can ever be together.

  He stared at the painting again, alone with his thoughts for hours.  By the time he decided that it was time to take his leave, he exited the church to see that the snow had ceased and the orange sky was mottled with gray clouds.  The sidewalks were more congested with passerby, so Myotismon knew it would be difficult to escape.

  He spent several minutes searching for a niche where he would be shrouded, such as behind a wall, to transform into himself in security.  If he were seen, he could not set foot on Earth.

  That was when the sirens went off and the commotion officially started.

  Rosseau was alone in his hotel suite on the top floor of the most extravagant hotel in downtown Tokyo that night— his men had been forced to stay on a lower floor in a much smaller room and to steal several artifacts from Tokyo for him— and he was already settled in his bed in red silk nightclothes, about to fall asleep.

  The room grew unusually brisk, so he curled up more tightly in his bed covers, shivering.  There seemed to be some sort of sinister presence in the room.  The billionaire peered over the edge of his bed and saw a silhouette of a person standing next to his bed, surrounded by a dense gray fog and what appeared to be bats— they squeaked like bats and had wings in that shape.

  "Is someone there?" whispered Rosseau, sounding terrified and breaking into a sweat.

  "Yes," replied a deep voice from where the humanoid shadow was standing.  "And I am here for you.  I know exactly what you desire, and I am here to assist you in acquiring it."

  "How do you know?" questioned Rosseau.

  "I know who you are, Robert Rosseau.  Your motive is to capture the angels and become the wealthiest man in your pathetic little world, and I can help you reach that desired goal, with a little gratuity as well.  I wish to be the unquestioned king of two worlds, including your own."

  Rosseau blinked and could see the outline of the stranger's face.  "How will you do that?"

  "I," said the Shadow Mode, "am willing to offer you a little bargain.  You will be my servant.  If you capture those two angels, I am unstoppable because my opponents have always been the holy type, therefore I will be the one who dominates two worlds without any angels in my way to hold me behind.  What is in it for you, you ask?  You will be the leader of a portion of the digital world as well as the wealthiest man in the real world."

  The rich man's eyes grew wide, as the deal sounded appealing to him, especially the promise that he would be the most prolific human in the history of the world.  "You have yourself a deal," he acceded.

  A roll of parchment appeared in front of Rosseau in the bed, along with a feather dipped in ink.

  "Then sign the contract, willing yourself to be a servant to me for life," instructed Myotismon Shadow Mode, not concealing his elation.

  Without a second thought about considering it to be like selling your soul to the devil— the Shadow Mode akin to the devil and Rosseau selling his soul— the man, drunk on power, signed his name on the contract with a flourish.  The second he lifted the pen, the paper rolled up and dissolved.  Myotismon Shadow Mode unleashed a sinister laugh and escaped, his bats flying around him and then fluttering out the window to find the exact location of his angel supplement.

To be continued…

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