Disclaimer: If you've gotten this far, I'm sure you know that I couldn't possibly be the one who owns Digimon, else things would be very, very different. V.E.R.Y.

Absolutions 07:
Yamato the Hunted

"A truth, still apparent, though disregarded, that things move violently to their place, but calmly in their place. To put it another way, everything has its right home, the region that suits it, and, unless forcibly restrained, will move thither by a kind of homing instinct." ~ J. Winterson, "Art and Lies"

"If it is dangerous to dream, then the cure is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time." ~ Marcel Proust

+++++++++++

Daisuke sat on the wooden bench outside of Ken's apartment building waiting for his friend to return home, happy that not only had he remembered to wear his own coat but that he actually had three others to lay over his lap as he wait, two that he needed to return to Ken and the third which he had borrowed from Miyako about this time, three years previous. He wondered idly if she would even remember it. Regardless, if he were going to make his coat closet into a nursery, it would have to be cleared out. He was suddenly startled out of his mental review of ducky and bunny wallpaper as a hand reached out to roughly disturb his hair, nearly knocking him off of the bench in the process; so deep was he into his unaware state.

"Come on Motomiya. Hurry up, it's cold," Ken had already moved past Daisuke's bench and was waiting near the stairwell, stomping and rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep warm.

Daisuke stood up with a frown, "You now, one of these days this isn't going to be me and you're going to be really embarrassed," he complained, doing his best to keep from dragging one or all of the coats through the half frozen mud.

Ken did not seem concerned by Daisuke's supposition, "Nah, I'd recognize the back of that head anywhere." He had already started to take the stairs in twos before Daisuke had even waddled all the way over to the stairwell. With a sigh, Daisuke tossed the three coats over his shoulder and began to climb after his friend. By the time he made it to Ken's level, Ken was already at his door, waiting impatiently for Daisuke to arrive so that they could both slip in without letting out anymore heated air than absolutely necessary.

"Why do you always leave me behind?" Daisuke questioned at Ken's begging wave.

Ken cocked his head to the side, seeming to consider Daisuke's question, "Because I know you'll catch up all in your own time," he answered softly.

Daisuke stopped, seeming to consider the simple statement, "Wow, Ken that's really—"

"That, and I'm cold. Come on! Come on! Come on!" Ken had taken to bouncing on the balls of his feet in his impatience. Finally Daisuke made it to Ken's door and was all but bodily shoved inside, just in front of Ken.

Ken tossed a manila envelope on the hallway table, "Heat," he murmured, "I've got to move somewhere warmer," he kicked off his shoes, setting them neatly to the side before turning to Daisuke, "What brings you?"

Daisuke waited until Ken had completely stood back up before shoving the extra coats into his arms so that he could peal of his own, now much too warm, thanks to Ken's over abundant usage of the apartment's heating system. "I came to return your coats," Daisuke answered a moment later, also handing Ken his own coat to hang. "And I wanted to talk to you about Yamato."

"Hmmm?" Technically all Daisuke could see of Ken was his back but somehow he just knew that that questioning sound had been accompanied by a Grinch-like leer.

"But," Daisuke hastened to clarify, "First you have to promise me something," he did not wait for Ken to agree, "No closets, no handcuffs, no ropes, and most of all, nothing Miyako cooked. And yes, that does apply to any combination there of." Daisuke took a deep breath, somehow winded by his own demands.

"Alright," Ken agreed easily. Daisuke narrowed his eyes.

"I mean it." Daisuke insisted

Ken smiled, leading Daisuke towards the relative safety of his living room, "It's a promise."

"Ken," Daisuke warned.

Ken sighed, "Look Daisuke, I've only ever had to resort to my," he paused to consider his wording, "alternative methods for making you talk when you, well, won't. But since you're the one who brought it up, I really can't see where that will be an issue." Daisuke nodded. That seemed logical enough. He allowed himself to be seated on Ken's couch and even accepted the candy he was offered. The two men sat next to each other for several long moments, with Daisuke looking at the various samples of Miyako-influence that seemed to have blossomed about the room overnight and Ken watching Daisuke. Finally Ken's patience wore out, "It might help if you actually told me what you wanted to talk about."

Something about the way Ken had said that, along with his earlier half-promise made Daisuke nervous. "Where were you?" Daisuke asked suddenly.

Ken smiled at the obvious cop-out, "City offices," he informed, "Do you have any idea the kind of paperwork that goes into starting your own business? It's massive," Ken answered his own question, "Now about Yamato," he pushed.

"I just don't know," Daisuke mumbled at Ken's insistence, standing up from the couch and watching as his friend lay down, stretching to take Daisuke's forfeited space. Ken clasped his hands behind his head, continuing to study Daisuke with his patented either-tell-me-or-I'll-make-you-[insert evil cackle]-face, something that had worked so well when they were kids and still worked incredibly well now.

Daisuke sighed, "Do you think I'll ever find anyone who can love me?" When this question did not receive and immediate response he hurried on, "I mean, could Yamato ever love me? And even if he did, what are the odds Takeru would be okay with it?" He paused a second to shake his head derisively, "Does what Takeru thinks even matter? After all, is there any chance that Yamato will ever really be over Taichi? And doesn't this just prove that I'm a Taichi-wanna-be? And I know I'm just being stupid, right? Would it be so terribly wrong just to forget all this and not even try? I'm crazy, aren't I," he finished matter-of-factly; never stopping the pacing that he had started midway along his rant.

Ken cracked open one eye, both having drifted shut somewhere about mid-babble, to study his friend for a second and to determine if he really had come to the end of his little tirade. When Daisuke had successfully managed to keep his mouth shut for a full 30 seconds, Ken spoke up tiredly, "Yes, yes, does it really matter, no, yes, don't be ridiculous, no, yes and yes, err, make that last one a no," he finished with a snicker.

Groaning, Daisuke allowed his dead weight to drop back on the couch, barely giving Ken enough time or warning to move his legs from harm. "You could at least pretend to be interested," he complained.

"On the contrary. I have to pretend to be uninterested. Your soap-opera lifestyle never stops fascinating me," Ken smirked.

"Sarcastic bastard."

Ken just smiled at the insult, stretching out his legs once more, this time over Daisuke's lap. "Did I ever tell you about when I started dating Miyako?" Ken asked suddenly.

Daisuke tried to think back, shaking his head no before shrugging, "I guess I always figured she tricked you."

Ken laughed, "I guess in a way she probably did," he smiled, his eyes still closed as he remembered, "I remember our first date. I believe I was only fifteen and for the life of me I can't remember why I invited her instead of you but I do remember wondering, 'Oh god, what's Daisuke going to think?'"

"But you found that you liked her," Daisuke continued when Ken paused.

Ken's eyes opened to study Daisuke, "No. Miyako?" he questioned, as if he weren't sure that they were talking about the same person, "She annoyed me. I thought that she was pushy, too forward," he smiled at Daisuke's shocked expression, "But I guess that that is my point. Over some period of time that I can't even define, my perception of her changed. She went from being this rude, materialistic little insect, to someone best described as completely atypical and the things that annoyed me before, I love them because I now see how well the represent the person she truly is."

Daisuke smiled down at his dark haired friend, "So they don't annoy anymore?" he questioned.

Ken hmmed, considering the question, "Well," he hedged, "Maybe sometimes, just a little," the violet eyes flashed open again, "And if you ever tell Miya I said that you're dead!" Daisuke gave a soft laugh at the threat.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," Ken continued, "is that people change as you get to know them. Or rather, your perceptions of them change. Most you begin to wish you knew less. But some," Ken paused to reconsider his qualifier, "—a small some, mind you," yet another momentary pause as he assured himself that his second statement was indeed stringent enough, "—but a small some, you find you want to know even more. And sometimes, the things that you once considered impossible can become the only possibility."

Daisuke nodded, silent for several minutes as he considered what Ken had told him. "Do you remember what you thought when you first saw me?" he finally worked up the courage to ask.

Ken seemed to consider the question for a long time, "Mindless sex toy," he finally answered matter-of-factly, "But you see, I was wrong about the mindless bit."

"Not funny," Daisuke muttered, "I was being serious." Ken just smiled, leaving Daisuke to wander back into his own thoughts.

When he finally broke his second silence, Daisuke was annoyed to find out that Ken had since fallen asleep. He shook the thin man awake with a frown, waiting until he had Ken's full attention before repeating himself.

"So," Daisuke began for the second time, "What you are saying is that if I really like Yamato, you know, like that, then I should keep trying because even if before or even if now is not the right time, that doesn't mean that it won't ever be."

"Yes," Ken agreed.

"And as my best friend, you are going to do everything you can to support me," Daisuke gave Ken his best "look," not that Ken was likely to have noticed as he had once again shut his eyes, "Which includes not actively trying to scare Yamato away."

Ken frowned at the way he was being so obviously railroaded, "I would consider changing my perceptions of him," he agreed, somewhat begrudgingly, "I do not, however, make any promises."

Daisuke smiled, "Good enough," he agreed, "Your promises have never been worth shit anyway," he smirked, "Ouch!" Ken had kicked him and did not seem particularly inclined to apologize, not that Ken had ever been the type to apologize willingly.

"By the way," Ken suddenly broke into Daisuke's old memories, "When is Miya going to tell me she's pregnant?"

Daisuke's head swung around to stare at the resting man, "You know about that? How?"

Ken shrugged, as much as someone completely reclined could anyway, "I saw the box for her test in the garbage," he answered casually.

"Oh," Daisuke considered Ken's easy answer, "How did you know it was positive?" he questioned.

Ken actually opened his eyes long enough to cock an eyebrow at Daisuke's mistake, "I didn't. You just told me."

Suddenly, Daisuke felt very, very ill. "Crap! That's not fair Ken!" he insisted, "You can't tell her I told you. She'll kill me," Daisuke begged. Ken did not seem particularly concerned, yawning at Daisuke's distress.

"Not my problem."

It was all Daisuke could do to keep from choking the man in his semi-sleep. After all, it was one way he could assure Ken's silence. But somehow he could not bring himself to actually go through with his plan. Besides, knowing Daisuke's luck, that would never work anyway. Revenge had always been Ken's forte.

"You know you shouldn't sleep on the couch," Daisuke finally settled on just a sound scolding, lifting Ken's legs like a harbor bridge so that he could stand up before repositioning them back on to said couch, "It's bad for your back." All he got back for his extreme show of control was an incoherent murmur.

Daisuke's hand was already on the doorknob before he heard Ken's commanding chide, "Daisuke. Coat." Daisuke frowned at the half asleep man as he opened the coat closet door with a tad more force than was strictly necessary. He could not wait for summer.

+++++++++++

"I need to talk to you about Yamato."

Daisuke jumped at Takeru's sudden entrance into his room, dropping the textbook he had been reading, the corner of the hardbound book falling just at the tip of his sternum and causing the far edge to land with a resounding whack on Daisuke's chin. Shoving the book to the floor and rubbing both sore spots, Daisuke sat up.

"Owwww," he complained. He could tell that Takeru wanted to laugh, but was holding himself back.

"I need to talk to you about Yamato," Takeru stated for the second time after giving Daisuke enough time to overcome his recent injury, or at least what he thought was enough time. Daisuke might have disagreed.

"What is there to ask about?"

Takeru frowned, "I want to know what you think is going on between the two of you."

"Currently?" Daisuke clarified, waiting for Takeru's nod before continuing, "Nothing."

"Does Yamato know that?" Takeru demanded.

Daisuke looked at his blond roommate strangely, "It was Yamato's decision," he answered honestly, "We talked about it and he kind of shot me down," Daisuke rubbed his head in a sheepish motion, remembering his and Yamato's conversation and the trouble it had caused. Was this a can of worms he really wanted to be opening?

"When was that?"

Daisuke smiled. There were times when Takeru really reminded him of Ken. Both of them processed a single-minded determination that could be frightening, but where Ken's determination spread to all aspects of his life, Takeru's only had to do with his brother, specifically his brother's love life. Daisuke wondered just how that particular facet of Takeru's character had come into being.

"Daisuke!" Takeru's sharp command snapped Daisuke's attention back to the question at hand.

"Before," Daisuke shrugged, "After Miyako's party."

"And since then?" Takeru questioned. Daisuke shook his head no.

Takeru sat down on Daisuke's bed with a sigh, "He's my brother," he explained.

+++++++++++

Daisuke leaned against the living room door frame, watching Yamato as he lay, turning the pages every so often of one of Takeru's books, and completely oblivious to the fact that he was being stalked. Daisuke thought back to what Takeru had said earlier. Was Yamato really as unsure as he was about what was going on? And if so, did that mean that Daisuke might actually have a chance at this that was not years in the future.

Takeru had seemed to think so, but then he had not seemed especially happy about the idea. Daisuke supposed he should be happy that the blond had merely expressed displeasure and not outright forbidden the possibility.

Daisuke sighed, inadvertently drawing Yamato's attention away from his book.

"Daisuke?" Yamato asked, moving into an upright position on the couch.

"Can I talk to you?" Daisuke blinked rapidly, not sure if the reason his eyes felt so strange was because they were too moist or too dry. Regardless, he knew why his heart was racing, almost hurting. He was scared.

Yamato nodded, moving over a bit so that he was not sitting directly in the center of the couch and waited for Daisuke to take his seat.

"Listen," Daisuke began carefully, "I know we already talked about this. But I guess I kind of feel like a couple of things have changed," he glanced up from his tightly clinched fingers to give Yamato a pained little smile, "So I thought I'd ask and if you say no, I promise I'll never ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER, ever, ever…"

Yamato squeezed Daisuke's shoulder, cocking his head to the side to look Daisuke directly in the eyes, "Mmm?"

"…ask you again," Daisuke finished quickly, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Okay," Yamato agreed when Daisuke failed to continue.

Daisuke considered the patiently waiting blond for a moment before standing up from the couch, "You know, on second thought, no. Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have even brought it up."

He made to walk away but Yamato reached out and grabbing his arm, pulled him back on to the couch, not failing to notice Daisuke's frightened skitter when he accidentally landed a little to close. Yamato, however, was not about to let go of his death grip on Daisuke's arm, not even if it meant that he would have to sit on this couch for the rest of his life.

"Yamato?" Daisuke questioned softly. The way that Yamato kept staring at where their knees had touched was really beginning to unnerve Daisuke, that is, if it were actually possible for him to become more unnerved.

"I wish you wouldn't," Yamato spoke up suddenly, spooking Daisuke for the second time that afternoon. Daisuke nodded. If that was what Yamato wanted then that was what he would promise.

"I won't—" Daisuke began, only to be cut short by Yamato.

"I wish you wouldn't," Yamato's hand finally dropped from Daisuke's arm and Yamato frowned at it before folding it along side the other in his lap, "I wish you wouldn't give up on me so easily."

Daisuke watched the now silent man for a moment before leaning his head against Yamato's slumping shoulder. Somehow the quiet request made his heart hurt even deeper. He felt Yamato lean his head against the top of his own. It wasn't anything close to an embrace but somehow managed to be nearly as comforting.

Daisuke breathed in Yamato, so similar to Takeru; same soap, same shampoo, and yet so distinctly Yamato underneath. So deep was he into trying to decide just where that subtle difference lay that he was surprised when Yamato suddenly sat up, straightening his shoulders so that Daisuke had to follow suit or suffer the disgrace of being nudged aside.

"Yamato?" Daisuke questioned softly.

Yamato turned his head to smile at Daisuke's questioning tone, "I found an apartment," he was still smiling but it had yet to reach his eyes, "It's not far from here. Plenty close to the university," he explained, "You can come over when Takeru is on one of his 'No one can make any noise, I'm studying' binges."

"But I don't want you to leave!" For a moment, Daisuke could almost swear that the smile brightened Yamato's eyes, but the flash was gone to quickly to confirm.

"Takeru might disagree," Yamato chuckled half-heartedly.

"So?" Daisuke demanded, standing up to stop his foot, "We'll kick him out."

"Daisuke…"

"No, think about it," Daisuke insisted, "He has study group every Wednesday from six 'til nine. We'll get someone to come and change the locks while he's gone."

That did make Yamato laugh, "I'm not throwing my own brother out of his apartment. Besides, who'd pay his half of the rent?"

Daisuke paused, "Hmmm, good point," he offered a hand to Yamato, pulling him up from the couch, "You'll just have to move into my room."

"Is there room for me and the baby?" Yamato asked, humored by Daisuke's planning.

"Baby..." Daisuke questioned, trying to place what Yamato was talking about, "Baby...Oh!" he suddenly remembered, brushing away Yamato's question with a flick of his wrist, "I was going to put it in the coat closet. But it's okay, Ken figured it out."

"Wha—" Yamato began, but stopped himself. Perhaps there were some things that he really did not need to understand.

"So what do you say?" Daisuke broke into his thoughts, "I'm sure I can fit a futon in my room with out a problem."

"No." Yamato answered matter-of-factly. Daisuke seemed hurt by his outright refusal. "I was thinking," Yamato paused, "that maybe you and I might…" Yamato sighed, "I know I don't exactly have the best track record, but I thought that if you were still interested, then we might go out on a date or something."

Daisuke was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that his heart was attempting to escape his chest. He could only hope that it would not succeed.

"And if that worked out," Yamato continued, "I think it might be best if we each have our own little corner of the world to hide in," he smiled at Daisuke's confused look, "occasionally."

Daisuke nodded, still not entirely clear on what Yamato was saying.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready to do the 24-7 thing yet," Yamato explained, "But I know that I want you in my life as more than just a friend."

"Yama…" Daisuke began carefully.

"If you're still willing to ask," Yamato offered.

"Always," Daisuke whispered, "Repeatedly," he promised. He wrapped his arms around Yamato's middle, bringing the taller boy as close to him as was humanly possible.

As far as Daisuke was concerned, it was indistinguishable from fairytale. He had just had a tall blond grant his wish. Now all that was left was the faultless kiss to seal the deal, and Yamato seemed to be following his script perfectly. He leaned his head forward ever so slightly, waiting for Daisuke to tilt his head up and slightly to the side. His eyes were heavily lidded, just a sliver of blue and black showing behind long lashes.

A perfect storybook romance.

That is, until the phone began to ring and would not stop.

Yamato stepped back with a small smile, "You should probably get that."

Daisuke fought the urge to scream. "I hate my life!" he declared, snatching the phone from the wall, "What?"

"Evening, Daisuke," came Ken's all too chipper voice. If Daisuke did not know better, he would have sworn that Ken had planned the whole damn thing.

"Ken, do you mind?" Daisuke asked as calmly as could be expected, "I'm kind of busy right now."

Ken did not seem too bothered, "That's okay. I wanted to talk to Yamato anyway."

Daisuke sent a questioning glance towards the man who had returned to his earlier spot on the couch before turning back to his phone conversation with a sigh, "I think you're missing my point."

"No, I'm not."

Daisuke nearly screamed, "Not now Ken," he begged, "For the love of god, not now."

Ken was obviously not too impressed, "Oh please." Daisuke could almost swear he could see Ken rolling his eyes. "If you were that far along you wouldn't have bothered picking up the phone. Just put him on," he repeated his request.

That was too much! "What is it about me that makes you think I'm such a –" Daisuke broke off suddenly as he realized how intently Yamato was listening to his half of the conversation. Not that Ken had not known him long enough to finish Daisuke's thoughts.

"History?" Ken offered up his opinion with ill-disguised humor. At Daisuke's growl, he continued, "Since it's obviously not an issue, just put him on."

What Daisuke wanted more than anything else in the world was to put the phone back on its receiver, but somehow, the knowledge of how Ken would respond to such a dismissal kept his hand hovering just above death. After a second's more battle with himself, he held out the phone to Yamato with a sigh, "It's for you."

Yamato gave him a strange look, but walked over and took the phone. "Hello?" he asked carefully. Daisuke watched Yamato's expressions through out the short telephone conversation. Best he could tell, it was Ken that was doing all the talking and Yamato was fighting to either keep a straight face or keep from crying. Either way, Daisuke had the sickening feeling that hell was about to break loose.

He hated his life.

"That was Ken," Yamato offered after he hung up the phone. At Daisuke's nod, he continued, "He's, ah, placing a moratorium on any relationship we may or may not be having until he gets to speak with me."

"His words?" Daisuke asked.

"Yeah," Yamato agreed, shaking his head carefully as if he were trying his best to figure something out, "Have you had him speak with anyone?" Yamato asked carefully, "A professional?"

Daisuke just sighed. "Wouldn't work. He's much too far gone."

"Yeah," Yamato repeated himself, nodding. He looked to Daisuke with a small smile before walking over to get he coat from the hallway closet.

Daisuke watched each of his movements with intense worry, "You're going over to Ken's?" Yamato just nodded, too intent in pulling on his coat with out causing his shirt sleeves to ride up to notice the nervous way that Daisuke kept chewing on his lip. "I'm going with you."

His insistent tone did catch Yamato attention, "What? Why? Its just Ken." Daisuke frowned. Obviously Yamato did not have the first clue about what he was dealing with. Daisuke, on the other hand, had years of practice. He knew when to be scared out of his mind.

"I'm going."

Yamato shrugged, pulling Daisuke's coat off of its hanger and tossing it in his direction. After all, he had no intentions of arguing over something so silly. Besides, as much as he would never admit to Daisuke, he really would rather the other boy was there.

"I do have one question," Yamato waited until Daisuke had finished tying his shoe and stood up before continuing, "Its stupid really, so you don't have to answer. But it's been bothering me."

"What is it?" Daisuke asked carefully.

Yamato sighed, his hand resting on the doorknob as he considered his words, "How does one go about dating his mortal enemy?"

"Well," Daisuke shrugged, seeming to think, "Ken has always been incredibly adept at diversions."

+++++++++++

Daisuke watched Ken's apartment building grow larger and larger with a distinct feeling of dread. They were just even with the front edge when Daisuke suddenly stopped.

"Daisuke?" Yamato questioned when he realized two or three steps later that he had lost his companion.

Daisuke motioned the man over to where he now stood, reaching out when he was close enough to grab both of Yamato's arms. He gave the well-padded man a squeeze before sighing, "Just promise me one thing. If Ken tries to corner you in a room or any other enclosed space, then yell, scream or cry, anything to get my attention. I'll come immediately. Okay?"

Yamato laughed, if somewhat nervously, "Daisuke, you're really starting to scare me," he smiled at the shorter man, "I mean, come on, this is Ken we're talking about. I've seen the guy weep over a squished caterpillar."

Daisuke was not nearly so confidant. "He likes caterpillars."

"Are you saying he doesn't like me?" Yamato's question was met with complete and total silence. Even the world seemed to have momentarily paused when it heard such an audacious question asked. "Whatever," Yamato finally concluded for himself, taking Daisuke by the hand and all but bodily dragging him to the stairwell, "What's Ken's apartment number?" he asked for the fifth time that afternoon.

"Forty-two," Daisuke answered begrudgingly, no longer being forcibly dragged forward but not walking towards his fate with open arms, either. He was a little relieved to have Miyako open the apartment door. A little relieved, but not much. Somehow she seemed just a tad too happy to see them.

"Hey, Yamato," she smiled at the older man, seeming to ignore Daisuke, not that Daisuke minded.

"Where's Ken?" Daisuke finally worked up the courage to ask after they had come inside and stripped out of their coats, all without the dark-haired man appearing.

Miyako shrugged, "I think he stepped out," she motioned them both toward the living room, "You needed to see him?" she guessed.

"He wants to talk to Yamato," Daisuke frowned. For his part, Yamato just held his tongue; content to allow the other two the chance to hash out whatever it was that seemed to be going on.

"Oh," Miyako seemed surprised, "Ohh-ohhhh, okay. I get it." She sent an understanding sort of smile in Yamato's direction, "Don't worry. There's nothing to be worried about."

"Why would you say a thing like that?" Daisuke demanded, hands fisted at his hips, "He's got enough on his mind as is!"

"Actually," Yamato interrupted the impending fight, "Everything's fine. Really," he persisted at Daisuke's unsure glance, "I not worried." Miyako smiled at him before turning her attention back to Daisuke.

"Well! Since that's settled, could you, um," she paused pointing back towards the other end of the apartment, "There's something you might want to see." She gave Daisuke a knowing kind of look before turning to Yamato, "That is, if you don't mind," she asked the calmly waiting man.

Yamato shook his head no, tossing a hand in the air to indicate his indifference. Daisuke did not seem as convinced.

"I don't know," he hedged.

Yamato rolled his eyes. "I'll be okay. Honest."

It did not look like Daisuke was going to agree but he finally seemed to cave a little, "Okay," he decided, "But remember what I told you. Promise?"

"Yeah." Yamato's chuckle did not exactly fill Daisuke with confidence, but if the man felt that he could defend himself, then Daisuke was willing to trust him, for the time being anyhow.

At Yamato's promise, Miyako grabbed Daisuke's hand with a little hop and a giggle and began dragging him back toward the apartment's spare bedroom, "You are going to love this!" she promised.

"What is it?" Daisuke asked, excited in spite of himself. He did not even complain when she shut the bedroom door, unintentionally closing them off from the rest of the apartment.

"Patience," Miyako insisted, getting down on her knees to pull a bag out from under the low bed, "Ken doesn't know I know about this, but I found it yesterday when I was cleaning," she explained. She pulled out a flimsy, almost shimmery looking teddy, and holding the straps at her shoulder began to do a dance that resembled, in Daisuke's opinion anyway, what a hippopotamus would look like if it were trained to do the hula.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Daisuke blinked rapidly, trying to let as little of the mentally damaging imagery make it to his brain as was possible, "No offence Miya," he began carefully, "But you're not really my type."

"No, stupid!" She tried to hurl the brown paper bag at him, but it was too light to make it any further than about half way to Daisuke, "Do you recognize it?"

Daisuke studied the piece of lingerie carefully. It was blue, he never chose blue and a good deal strappier than he would have liked, he rarely wanting to picture Miyako with less than a nun's habit covering her body. "No," he answered carefully.

Her grin all but split her face in two, "That's right," she winked, waiting for Daisuke to put all the pieces together. It was not long in coming.

"You mean he—" Daisuke started.

Miyako nodded excitedly. "Well, unless he's got a new best friend to buy his lingerie for him, I'd say we have a winner."

Daisuke laughed, pausing to give the diaphanous material a critical look before informing Miyako of the awful truth, "Don't take this the wrong way," he began, none too delicately, "But that will swamp Ken." He used his hands to indicate first the width of the teddy's waist and then what he believed Ken's to be, much to Miyako's disgruntlement. She snatched a clock from the bedside table and hurled it at his head, only missing by a centimeter or two.

"You!!" She pointed a shaky finger in his direction.

Daisuke quickly stepped up to wrap her in an apology hug before she could find something else to throw at him. "Congratulations, Miya," he offered sincerely enough.

It must have worked, because she relaxed, smiling, "Congratulations to you, too," she gave him an extra little squeeze before standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "And if you ever tell Ken something I told you not to ever again, I will not only kill you; I will chop your body into tiny pieces and dump it in the river. Understand?"

Daisuke skittered backwards, frightened. He nodded his head, relieved to see her smile return a second later.

"Good boy," Miyako complemented, her grin a little too similar to Ken's for Daisuke's comfort, "Now," she glanced at her watch for conformation, "You might want to go see about Yamato. Ken's had him for a good five minutes already."

Daisuke watched as his world began to crumble. "Damn."

+++++++++++

"So this is your room," Yamato commented, looking about. He could say that he had been surprised to see Ken walk into the living room not a minute after Miyako had spirited Daisuke away, but that would have been a lie. To be honest, he had found the entire situation obvious and was surprised to see Daisuke tricked so easily.

Ken followed Yamato glances about the bedroom, nodding his agreement. "Yes?" he prodded when Yamato did not expand upon his first statement.

"Oh, nothing," Yamato shrugged, "I guess I just imagined something darker," he ran his fingers over one of the two lampshades hanging over the headboard of the bed, "perhaps with chains." His fingers brushed through the beaded fringe before he pulled them back.

Ken shrugged, arms crossed over his chest, not willing to acknowledge Yamato's insinuations, "Miyako likes pink."

Yamato smiled at the all too unflustered man, "I see. You wanted to talk to me?" he asked.

Ken sighed, seemingly considering his options. Eventually he glanced up at Yamato with what almost appeared to be a friendly smile. "Listen," he began carefully, "All this stuff about me being mean and all," Ken paused, rolling his eyes as if what he were saying was beyond ridiculous, "It's really just an act. I mean, a lot of people have the wrong impression just because of that whole Kaiser thing. But I was young and I honestly did not realize how serious the consequences of some of my actions were going to be," he gave a noncommittal shrug, "I guess that what I am trying to say is this: if I had it all to do over again, I'd do quite a bit of it differently."

Yamato nodded slightly, giving himself a moment to take in the short spill before responding, "I know that Ken."

"Good," Ken answered shortly, "Because Daisuke really likes you, and our having an open and understanding friendship would really make him happy. But," he pierced Yamato with his best glare, "That being said, if you so much as inconvenience Daisuke, I will hurt you."

"I can live with that," Yamato answered easily, earning himself a narrowed look, "I mean, no," he clarified a second later, "I'm not saying everything is perfect, or for that matter, ever will be, but I do believe that Daisuke and I can be happy." His look challenged Ken to contradict to him, "Both of us."

Ken looked as if he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue, and so long as he did not choke on it, Yamato was sure that Daisuke would forgive him. Both men continued to stare at each other, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, in a bedroom with more flounces than any one bedroom should ever possess.

Ken was the first to break the long, heavy silence, "I will be watching you," he informed Yamato dangerously, "Frankly, I have reservations about even allowing Daisuke to date you."

"Allowing?" Yamato repeated the word as if he was not quite sure that he had actually heard it spoken.

"He was mine first." If Ken had intended to sound forceful, he had fallen far short. Yamato sighed, fighting the urge to squeeze the younger man's shoulder.

"No offence Ken," Yamato gave a small, almost understanding smile before his face fell to neutral once more, "But he's mine now." Ken's eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits of ice and Yamato was actually worried momentarily that he might have just crossed some invisible Ken-line, but then, just as suddenly as the anger had arrived, it seemed to drain away.

"Fine." Ken dropped into the nearby overstuffed chair that had been pushed cattycorner against the wall. Yamato took that as his own cue, flopping on the bed with a small, tired, "Umph." He lay on his side, continuing to study Ken as he rested.

"What is it?" Ken asked, noticing Yamato's small smile.

"Oh, nothing," he shrugged, rolling over onto his back and noticing for the first time the canopy of the bed, "I've just never seen the great Ichijouji Ken slouch."

"Shut-up," Ken frowned, but there was little force behind the words. Yamato smiled again.

"Mirrors," he commented dryly, "That," Yamato wiggled an eyebrow at his reflection and watched it wiggle one back, "I should have expected."

Ken just shrugged, "A man cannot live on pink alone."

+++++++++++

"Ken! Open this door! I mean it Ken, open it right now!"

Yamato groaned as Daisuke began his banging again, "Aren't you going to let him in?" he asked Ken, who did not seem to be having any difficulty ignoring Daisuke's commands.

"You want to let him in, you get it," Ken shrugged, "It's not like it matters anyway."

"It doesn't?" Yamato questioned, more than just slightly unsure that Ken was telling him the truth.

"Nope," Ken glanced towards the door when there came a not so subtle scraping sound, "He'll just take the hinges apart," Ken informed as the entire door suddenly came away from its jam and they were presented with the heaving form of an out of breath Daisuke.

"Yamato?" Daisuke looked about the room frantically, ignoring the unimpressed looking Ken sitting in the corner.

"Have you seen this?" Yamato asked, pointing up at the canopy mirrors. Daisuke rushed over to where the blond man lay, making faces at his self in said mirrors.

"I knew I should have gotten a more traditional apartment," Ken groused, "Maybe then you wouldn't always be taking my doors apart." He was completely ignored.

"Are you okay?" Daisuke asked Yamato breathlessly. Yamato grinned up at the panicky man.

"Of course. Have you seen this?" he repeated the question again.

"Yes." Daisuke answered shortly.

"I think it's kind of cool."

"I like it," Ken interjected.

"Ken!" Daisuke was feeling very short-tempered and he really could not handle Ken's insinuations at the moment. Ken raised both hands in the air in a surrendering gesture before pushing himself up from the chair.

"Fine," he conceded, "I'll leave the two of you alone." He rolled his eyes, walking out of the room, only to pop his head back in a second later, "That's my bed," he reminded them both before leaving once more. Yamato laughed.

"Are you really okay?" Daisuke repeated his question as soon as Ken was out of the room. Yamato reached up, running a hand down the side of Daisuke's face with a smile.

"Really," he brushed a curl away from Daisuke's eyes only to have it come flopping down again almost instantly, "You worry way too much. Ken's a pussy cat." Yamato patted the space next to him, "Besides, it's hard to fear a man with a pink bedroom."

Daisuke dropped down, picking up one of the smaller throw pillows and giving the lacy edging a frown before he tossed it onto the chair that Ken had been sitting in, "Yeah, well, I still wouldn't let him hear you call him that if I were you," he informed Yamato. Yamato did not seem overly worried.

"You ready to go home?" he asked, pulling himself up into a sitting position next to Daisuke. Daisuke glanced up at the mirrors above Ken's bed with a shudder.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Home."

+++++++++++

"No, no, no," Takeru complained, "Now explain this to me again. You are saying what?"

Daisuke frowned, "Unexpecting isn't a word."

"What?" Takeru asked for what had to be the fifteenth time.

"It isn't a word, Takeru," Daisuke answered as patiently as he possibly could.

Takeru was not buying it, "If it isn't a word, then why isn't my word processor showing the error?"

Daisuke let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't know," he grumbled, "Did you right-click ignore?" Takeru gave a sheepish sort of grimace and it was all Daisuke could do to keep from shaking the boy senseless.

"Fine," Takeru eventually conceded grudgingly, "I'll change it. But that doesn't mean I agree."

"Well if you don't want my suggestions why did you ask me to read it?" Daisuke demanded answers from the blond boy.

"Because I need someone who was there to check it for me!" Takeru answered, sounding every bit as aggravated as Daisuke.

"WHY?" Daisuke reached out to shake the monitor rather than Takeru only to get slapped on the back of his head for his extreme effort at control, "It's a complete work of fiction. This isn't how any of it happened!"

That was going too far. Takeru's mouth worked open and closed for a moment as he formed is irrefutable and outraged defense, "Is to!"

"Is NOT!"

"IS TO!"

"IS—"

"Children, children, please," Yamato interrupted the quickly erupting fist fight, "How am I supposed to pack when I can't even hear myself think?"

"It's Takeru's fault," Daisuke mumbled at the floor.

"My fault!?" Takeru sounded beyond surprised, "How is this my fault? You're the one that can't remember what really happened."

Daisuke's mouth flew open, words threatening to flow out, that is, until he caught Yamato's humored smirk, at which time it snapped back shut. "Okay, fine," Daisuke agreed, a little too easily, "Let Yamato read it. He can decide."

"Yamato?" Takeru's eyes narrowed, "Why Yamato?" he asked suspiciously.

"He was there," Daisuke responded innocently, "He'll be able to settle this." He stepped back, motioning for Yamato to step up to the computer monitor, "And I guaran-damn-tee that he'll tell you Gennai never looked like a Jedi night," Daisuke whispered none too quietly to Takeru.

Yamato stepped up to the computer, quickly scrolling up to the top of the screen and then using the arrow keys as he read his way down. After several minutes of reading, he pushed himself back upright with a sigh.

"Sorry, Daisuke," he frowned, "That's exactly how I remember it happening." Takeru gave a happy little smirk.

"Exactly," Yamato continued, shaking his head, "And this," he said point to a line of dialogue, "Is where Gennai goes, 'Gommamon, I am your father.'" He turned to Takeru with a serious look, "You accidentally left that out," he informed before grabbing Daisuke by his wrist and all but dragging him out of Takeru's room and away from his brother wrath.

They could hear Takeru's frustrated, "ARGH!!" all the way down the hall.

"Really Daisuke," Yamato complained, pinning the younger man against the wall, "You've got to be more sensitive. Writers are temperamental creatures." He gave the laughing red head a quick kiss and a wink before whispering, "And Takeru's a vindictive bastard." Yamato pushed himself away from the wall and Daisuke, giving the latter a quick rub on the head, "Play nice."

Daisuke laughed as the blond playfully sashayed away. Play nice indeed.

+++++++++++

He sat next to the man in the brown derby. Somehow it did not matter if the grass were a little wet, he was still comfortable and somehow, he knew, he'd stay that way, so long as he had his company anyway.

The trees were blooming and the air was warm, something he was exceptionally glad for, as he had no intention of ever requiring a coat in his dreams.

Or, rather, nightmares. Cold dreams should always be classified as nightmares, he decided.

He smiled at the man. Do you think, he asked, that we might someday see the waves?

Of course, the man answered.

When?

Someday. The man was smiling, he just knew, because, for once, vague meant soon rather than never.

Daisuke smiled.

+++++++++++

The End.

Author's Note: Well, I thought I would be beyond happy to see the end of this fic, but strangely enough, I'm actually kind of sad. :) It's been lots of fun.

For those of you still wondering, Ken was upset because Daisuke stole his favorite candies and left the empty wrappers in Miyako's luggage. I know, I know, my beta likes to fuss at me. What I call subtleties, she calls gaps, together we refer to them as artistic differences. And yes, I do have questions about the demise of Fluffy as well, but I doubt that they'll ever be answered because, lets face it, would you tell Ken you killed his plant? :) I think not.

Please review!