A/N: Chapter time! Honestly, the events that will occur in this chapter were supposed to take up, roughly, one eighth of the original. Of course, it grew to a rather large length… all considering. Anyway, I say this because I'm a little unsure about how it turned out; I think it's a little slow. And considering the plot, maybe too soon. So… constructive criticism is highly valued.

Thanks goes out to AJ, lilwolf99, Christin, HunnySpectrum, Sony89, chicago77, UnfunnyJoke, distantheart, kithle, Musee.Picasso, sanaa, stilted-stylus and Garowyn.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Five: One Step At A Time

"You can tell me, you know? I doubt it's going to be something outrageous… we are talking about you," though she had been descending the stairs, Hilary could practically feel Tyson's grin from behind. "Did you forget something? Like… the napkin dispensers! You forgot to fill them, didn't you?"

The brunette stopped in the midst of stepping, fortunately for her clumsy self, Tyson was a safe distance behind, so he had not collided into her. Holding onto the railing, she turned to face him, shooting him an annoyed look. Figuring she was about to give in, he stopped as well.

"Give it a rest," she told him evenly, positioning herself carefully onto a single stair. "I hid it, so what? Suddenly it's like I'm planning some… some kind of thing!"

"So you admit it," Tyson acknowledged, making her scoff. "You hid it so I couldn't leave. You need me for something, or as you put it, some kind of thing."

Hilary stared at him blankly, his proud façade growing as he leaned against the railing a few steps higher. "I think you're acting just a little bit paranoid," she stated, poised rigidly in comparison. "You asked me to, so I did."

"No," he disagreed, waving a finger in challenge, "You took it right off my head and said the kids here were monsters."

"I never said they were monsters," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "They've been known to ruin things."

"We're at a wedding," the navy haired boy said, "I have this overwhelming feeling that their parents will keep them on their best behaviour. You know, so they won't overturn the cake."

"I'm amazed, you've actually lost it," she scowled, "I didn't hide your hat so you couldn't leave. I didn't even know you were going to bring it at all."

"Doesn't matter. You saw it so you used it. I'm impressed, really. Who knew you had a conniving side?" Tyson quirked his head in analysis.

"Desk drawer."

"I'm sorry?"

"My devious plan is no more," she mocked, waving her fingers mysteriously at him. "I put your hat in my desk drawer. Happy now?"

He stepped down, levelling out their height somewhat. "I didn't even see you go near your desk," he replied suspiciously, "You were by your dresser."

She stifled the urge to bite her lip, placing her hands on her hips. "Gee, I guess I was just trying to throw you off," she explained, "I'm conniving, remember?"

"Yeah, that means you lie," he flashed a smile out of amusement. "Want to give me a reason why I should believe you now?"

"You were playing with your hair in the mirror, I guess you were too busy worrying about yourself to even notice what I was doing," Hilary lied, forcing a tired expression.

His narrowed gaze relented, releasing some of the tension that rode on the brunette's shoulders. Tyson had this air to him now, almost mocking as he appeared to be contradicting her. He was not being serious in the least, and this managed to bother her.

"I miss this," he stated bluntly, gesturing around him with a single fluid movement. Lost, Hilary watched him blankly, waiting for a further explanation. "These stupid fights. You know the pointless ones? Keeps us on our toes."

"You enjoy them?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I know I wasn't being serious," Tyson replied, descending another stair to be beside her. "You doing something devious is like me getting perfect attendance. I'm well aware you didn't kidnap my hat for top secret alternative motives."

He was laughing as relief washed over Hilary, making the muscles that pulled her smile loosen. "I'm glad that's settled," she said, trying to determine whether or not she should be offended.

"I was just joking around," he repeated, having the feeling he needed to reassure her yet again. For some reason she was on edge and attempting to disclose it from his already knowing gaze. "Although bugging you reminds me of old times."

"I don't know about you, but I certainly don't consider last week an old time," she smirked.

Tyson regarded her with interest, "Touché."

His comment did not relinquish his gaze though and he was watching her with an indefinable expression. "What…?" she asked reluctantly, feeling slightly self-conscious. This merely made him chuckle at her expense as he offered her his arm.

"It will be a win/win situation," he explained thoughtfully, afraid that she may misinterpret his action. "You'll be able to walk and I'll make a good impression. Plus… who wouldn't want to be seen with me?"

The brunette didn't take his arm, or do anything for the matter. She merely blanked out, looking at his arm in a trance. She could practically feel Tyson's confusion crack in the air as his limb went weak against his side.

"I was just kidding about the last one," he mumbled honestly, shooting his attention down the stairway. He was thankful nobody was around to witness that as the awkwardness of what happened began to sink in.

Hilary winced at her own behaviour, feeling sorry just at the sight of the boy beside her. "We need to talk," she said simply, hoping it justified her actions.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, although he decided not to face her quite yet. "I get it…," he said in a monotone voice, and she held her breath just in case he didn't. "You're breaking up with me."

Tyson gave her a saddened sideway glance, making her smile. "I'd have to be insane to do something like that," Hilary stated, and ironically, for today, it was the truth.

"So I don't have to change? I don't need to alter my personality to fit your needs?" he beckoned, sitting down on the staircase. He rested his arms on top of his knees and tilted his head to see her, "I think you're just saying that."

"I didn't say anything," she rolled her eyes playfully; contemplating whether or not she should sit down beside him. "You're full of stories today."

"I do have an imagination," he agreed, "One that's wondering what we're really supposed to be talking about."

"Right… that. I want to level with you about something, Tyson," she told him.

"Then sit down," he shrugged, "That way I won't hurt myself looking up at you."

She complied, though not for the sake of the muscles in his neck. She would rather be on the same basis for height as well, it gave her groundings. "My Father's side isn't very close knit," she said bluntly.

"Oh?" he acknowledged, not knowing where this was going. And Hilary couldn't help but feel this small word was a tad bit forced.

"Yeah, we rarely see each other."

"Then we have something in common," Tyson pointed out, "It's almost like my Dad's whole side is into the archaeology field… I don't see them at all, unless it's a holiday. If I'm lucky."

Hilary had never seen him look so vulnerable, reaching for his absent hat out of habit. Catching himself grasping for air, he ran his fingers through his navy hair. He just held his hand there in the midst of his thoughts, completely tuning her out.

"That's sweet, Tyson," the brunette smiled fondly, it were moments like these she remembered he was truly a soft person.

He gave her an odd stare, "What is?"

"That you miss them," she explained, her smile broadening.

"I never said I did," he countered, avoiding her amusement by ducking his head down. His dark bangs covered his eyes as he did so, his fingers brushing through the blue locks.

"Aww," she mocked, elbowing him in the side playfully. "I would have to disagree; your actions do the talking for you. Unless you're trying to say you're not embarrassed?"

"Good one," he retorted, slightly smiling at her sudden change in attitude. "Not all families are tight."

"Well at least yours has an excuse," Hilary sighed, her demeanour changing slightly. She stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at her ankles. "Want to know why we get together on holidays? Because we feel inclined to, we have to blind ourselves to the truth apparently. Just because we play family three days of the year doesn't mean we are one."

"I think I get what you mean," he said, lifting his head up somewhat. "My family gets together because they want to when they can. Your family gets together because they have to when they should."

"Lovely thought, isn't it?" she frowned, "And now we're welcoming someone else into this wonderful scheme of things."

"With optimism like that, you were meant for the podium," Tyson smirked, having gotten over his embarrassed hunch. He wrapped a loose arm over her shoulder, trying to save her from the same fate. "You could possibly make the best speech ever."

"One that everybody would remember," she glanced at him, "Too bad it's a taboo topic."

"I can't imagine why."

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Hilary stated, expressing her position. "It just makes days like today extremely awkward."

Tyson became perplexed, leaning further back on the stairs in question. "Why would today be awkward?" he inquired.

"Well, it's kind of why I brought up the subject," the brunette admitted, giving a meek smile. "They can't remember what they have or haven't asked me, nor can they keep their answers straight…. So you might be in a bind."

"What kind of bind?" he wondered, not sounding at all angry. On the other hand, he seemed curious, staring at her with intent. "Are they going to pull me aside and drill me for answers?"

Hilary honestly hadn't thought of that, and although it sounded like an absurd concept, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised. "Let's just hope that doesn't happen…," she uttered weakly, the churning in her stomach picking up again.

"And if it does, so what?" Tyson smiled warmly, noticing the sudden unnerved look she had on her face. "I'm not going to tell them your deepest, darkest secrets."

"You don't know any," she frowned.

He raised an eyebrow, "That's because I didn't know you actually had some. What's the worst thing you've ever done? Forget to raise your hand in class?"

Hilary glared at him half heartedly, trying not to push the subject much further. "I've done some things I've lived to regret," she defended herself, although Tyson still seemed disbelieving, "Believe me."

"Hey, I want to," he shrugged nonchalantly, "But you're pretty close to perfection, or at least, that's what you make yourself up to be."

Taken back by the comment, she scoffed in refusal. "Oh, I do not," Hilary argued, twisting her body to face him at a better angle. "Are you actually calling me a perfectionist? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"I didn't say nothing like that," Tyson said innocently, his quirky smile placed onto his lips.

"You didn't say anything," the brunette corrected, making him grin widely. "It's a double negative, meaning you said…. Oh. Shut-up, Tyson."

"Hil, you're a perfectionist," the navy haired boy stated, calming his amusement. "Sort of like I'm a slacker; you can't really fight it. Everything has to be just right."

"I know what being a perfectionist means," she shot back. "I try for my best, not the world's."

"But isn't that one in the same?" he retorted.

"No," Hilary disagreed, "Listen, I'm not a perfectionist and I've done some stupid things. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Thank you."

"No problem," he waved off her forced comment. "If you want to join the mess up club, go right on ahead. I just thought you would've liked the other group better, princess."

Hilary rolled her eyes, "Well your royal highness, even the best fall from grace. Aren't you daily living proof of that?"

Tyson grunted, not at all offended. He did live for these exchanges of wits, even though at times it did not express them at their best. "So I'm in a bind," he reminded.

"Yeah," she agreed lightly, "You see, they might say… some strange things to you."

"Define strange," he frowned.

"Let me put it this way," Hilary offered, making him even more confused. "I'm their female relative that they don't know much about. You're the male friend that coincidentally is here because… I needed a favour. What does that make us, do you think?"

"Uh…," Tyson answered slowly, "Human beings?"

She frowned, giving him an even look. "No, that would be the wrong answer. Let me simplify this for you," she sighed, "I'm a girl. You're a boy. What do you think you're here for?"

"Sammy?" he said incredulously.

"Yes Tyson," Hilary retorted sarcastically, "That makes us Sammy, everything is so clear now."

"That was the last question!"

"Girl," she pointed to herself before jerking an accusing finger at him, "Boy. What does that mean?"

Tyson sat silently, giving her a blank look. "I'm scared to answer, you'll yell at me again if I get it wrong."

The brunette scowled, "No I won't."

"Right."

"What are we Tyson?" she asked carefully.

He shrugged in reply. "Friends?"

"No!"

His expression twisted into confusion, leaning back somewhat in a state of surprise. "We're not?" Tyson questioned dumbly, his arm retreating from behind her. "But I thought…."

"Not to them," Hilary interrupted, easing his reaction. "I know we're friends… temperamental, opinionated and stubborn friends, but friends. But to them, we're a boy and a girl at a wedding."

"On a platonic date," he nodded in agreement.

"But they don't know that," she stressed.

Tyson shrugged again, "So tell them."

"But we can't!" Hilary shouted, making him jump. "We wouldn't want to embarrass them, especially about such a delicate situation."

"They should be embarrassed though," he explained to her, dismissing the thought. He pushed himself up with his hands, finding himself standing on a stair a few down from Hilary. "You're their grandchild, niece, cousin… they should know you."

"Yeah…," she agreed reluctantly, "But…."

"No buts," he shook his head, his navy hair free to move without the restricting hat. "If they ask me anything about you, I'm telling them the truth. You deserve it, Hil. You're a great person; they don't know what they're missing out on."

In silence, she stared up at him, a mix of feelings crashing around in her brain. As angry as she was that she couldn't trick Tyson into lying for her, another part of her was pleasantly surprised by his sincerity. Hilary smiled softly, her gaze falling slowly to concentrate on her shoes.

"It took me forever to get my make-up right…," she finally murmured.

"I'm not following…?"

"Don't make me cry!"

"Oh," he said in realization, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well then… Hilary?" he said finally, and she glanced up at him, "You should have taken a little longer, you look like a raccoon."

She gaped at him, "Tyson!"

"What?" he grinned, "You said you didn't want to cry… so I thought I'd make you angry."

Hilary brought her hands to her cheeks in worry, looking up at him. "Do I really look like a raccoon?"

Tyson rolled his eyes, "Especially when you do that, you look like you're trying to fix your hair."

"You're lucky I'm in heels."

He laughed nonchalantly, smoothing out his tuxedo. "I was just kidding, you look nice," he stated, "We both do, if I do say so myself. I just didn't want you to worry so much… it's not like you're making the life altering decision here."

"I guess."

"Well, I know," Tyson challenged, "Nobody here got down on their knee or asked you to run away with them… to my knowledge. You're just a girl, remember that."

Hilary frowned, "Well that's sort of depressing."

"I seriously don't think you know what you want," he shook his head in defeat, smirking at his continuous failed attempts to say something that pleased her. "I'm sorry you're not getting married."

"And I'm sorry I didn't take your arm when you offered," she apologized.

"Who said the offer was gone?" Tyson smiled. He seized her hands, pulling her gently upward so that she didn't fall. That didn't stop her from trying though, and he bit his lip stifling the urge to laugh as he balanced her. "This is going to be a fun night."

"Yeah, I can only imagine how beat up my legs are going to look tomorrow," Hilary agreed with a sigh, swaying from side to side uneasily on her heels.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, steadying her on the stair. Her appreciative smile vanished after a few moments, replaced with a lost look.

"Because I'll be falling… that was the joke," she explained to him slowly, "I'll be bruised all over. Do you get it?"

"I haven't let you fall yet," Tyson smiled, gripping her hands tightly for a squeeze. "And I'm not going to; tonight I'll be your legs. Wherever you need to go, I'll be at your side."

"Then I'd think you'd be my crutch," Hilary said appreciatively, smiling gently back at him. "I can't thank you enough for today; so far you've been really great."

"Well I've only really seen you," he told her, realizing he hadn't done anything yet. "So you better hold your thanks. You know me; trouble likes to trip me up."

The brunette merely smirked, pushing him lightly as their hands remained entwined. He faked stumbling backwards, causing a faint girly squeal to escape Hilary's mouth. She fell forward at the same time Tyson regained his composure, their heads colliding in the space between.

"Ow," the female scowled, "What's your problem?"

Flinching from the contact as well, Tyson laughed if off. "My problem? You head butted me," he beamed, pulling her hands again, only this time he was descending the steps slowly so she could follow.

"Be careful," Hilary warned, cautiously taking his lead. She looked down, focusing on her feet as they traced his steps. She found herself being shaky, relying on her friend rather than the railing.

"You're saying that to me?" he retorted, glancing down to her feet as well, "I'm managing to go down the stairs backwards, you can't even walk a straight line without toppling onto me."

"I resent that," Hilary said distractedly, watching her feet trying to stand on solid ground. She would wobble and Tyson would adjust his grip, holding her hands high at shoulder length.

"We're almost at the bottom," he assured her, amused by the determined look on Hilary's face. "Then you can try to conquer solid ground."

"I'm more worried about the grass," she confessed with a wan smile, "What if I get stuck?"

Tyson cracked a smile of his own at the thought, giving her a playful roll of the eyes that she failed to notice. "Just be thankful you don't have quicksand in your backyard."

"What? You wouldn't save me from quicksand?" Hilary asked in mock shock, "So much for my hero."

"Hey, somehow you got Kai to actually pay for this tux," he reasoned with her, "If I come home with sand all over me… how happy do you think he'll be? And before you answer, take into account how happy he is now."

"He just expresses himself differently," the brunette defended her absent friend.

Tyson took his final step backward off the staircase, staring intently at her as she was about to do the same. "Ruined suit equals higher bill," he stated, "That equation spells out a very expressive Kai."

She smirked, "I would be able to save you if I was around."

"But if you were around I wouldn't need saving."

Hilary glared at him, "Well I'm glad you got your priorities straight."

The world champion sighed, "Fine, I'll save you from the fictional quicksand if I have to. And then I'll slay the dragon and split my pot of gold with you."

Hilary paused on the last step, meeting his gaze momentarily with an incredulous stare. "That's all I've ever wanted," she decided sarcastically, "That and people to randomly burst into song around me."

"Oh, me too," he grinned. "Now, how about we take that one last step?"

"I'm fine where I am," she shrugged.

"Really?" Tyson questioned, releasing her hands unexpectedly and shuffling back somewhat. He could tell right away she felt abandoned, like someone actually kicked her crutch away. "Don't you dare touch the railing."

"Are you coming back?" Hilary asked, trying to stifle the hope that invaded her voice. "Not that I need you to."

"I haven't exactly left," he answered. "But I'll tell you what, if you jump off that step, I promise to catch you." He opened his arms wide at his statement, prepared for the deed.

"Are you insane?" she repeated in deadpan.

"Crazy to the bone," Tyson smirked, "Can you believe I'm a whole two steps away from you? There's no way I could catch you from here, I'd have to like… lean forward just to reach you."

Hilary scoffed, "I don't usually leap into the arms of my platonic dates."

"You just have trust issues," he shrugged off her excuse, "Just close your eyes and jump; if I don't catch you… stick Kai on me or something. He likes you better than me, remember?"

"And I'm the one with issues?"

"Just jump," Tyson repeated.

Hilary sighed, tightly making fists at her sides. Closing her eyes, she sprung forward; crashing into the navy haired boy as he forcefully took a few steps backward. Both remained standing though, the brunette's arms gripping Tyson's neck in a state of momentary fear.

"Thanks for the warning," he finally grunted, pushing her away as best as he could with her guillotine grip. "I said jump, not tackle."

"Sorry," Hilary apologized, giggling nervously.

"Think you could remove your nails from my neck?" Tyson smirked and she released him immediately. "Next time, remind me to let you fall."

Not finding his joke funny, she pushed him lightly in the chest. He was again sent backward, only this time, he bumped into someone. Hilary hadn't realized anyone else was in the room until this point and she stared up at the man behind Tyson with a sheepish smile.

The navy haired boy, on the other hand, sent her a curious look before tilting his head back, staring up at the figure upside down. "Oh, sorry about that Mr. Tatibana."

Hilary's Father didn't look amused, eyeing the boy he barely towered over. "What you kids doing?" he inquired indifferently, looking between his daughter and the boy.

"Nothing much," Hilary answered for the both of them, "Just heading out back, the wedding should be starting soon, right?"

"Any minute, I suppose."

Tyson faced him correctly by Hilary's side. "Then I can finally meet Sammy?"

"You told him about the Sammy thing?" Mr. Tatibana asked with surprise. He crossed his arms, revaluating his image of the boy before him. "It's really nice that you'd do that for him."

"Well when Hil told me about it, how could I resist?" Tyson shrugged nonchalantly, smothering his ego with a smile. "Children are the future."

The brunette rolled her eyes, grabbing onto Tyson's arm tightly. Being pulled somewhat, he shot her a brief glare. "You're a giver," she said lightly, "But we should really get going."

"Why?" her Father replied suspiciously, "Are you going to be late?"

"Traffic these days in this hallway is insane… if we don't leave now, who knows when we'll get there," Tyson smirked, mocking the female beside him.

Regardless, she tightened her grip with an innocent smile. "Just want to show off the world champion beyblader," she reasoned, almost grimacing at her own words.

Tyson eyed her, raising an eyebrow at her statement. "Right…," he agreed skeptically, "I am the kind of guy you want to show off to the family."

Mr. Tatibana ignored his comment. "World champion?"

"That's me," the boy beamed confidently.

"You guys can talk about this later," Hilary interrupted, barging into their conversation before her Father could utter another word. "Dinner or something…. We have to go outside to get good spots. I don't want to be staring at the back of someone's overdone, toxic waste of a hairdo."

"Honey, don't poke fun at your cousins," the man sighed, practically wincing at the thought of a similar fate.

Tyson grinned, "Yeah honey, just because they don't look half as good as you doesn't mean you can rag on their hair."

Mr. Tatibana smiled oddly at the navy haired boy's words, giving his daughter an amused expression as he slightly wiggled his eyebrows. "Guess you two should be going… outside, where people are," he nodded toward the backdoor with a jerk of his head.

"Nice talking to you, sorry she's in such a hurry," Tyson replied, shoving his hands loosely into his pockets. "Women, eh?"

"Don't I know it."

Hilary scowled, shooting her Father a glare before stomping away with Tyson in tow. "He's obviously gone insane…," she muttered to herself, much to the boy's confusion, "Getting along with Tyson… come on."

"Is he supposed to have something against me?" he retorted, "I can't think of a single thing I've done wrong."

"Why don't you guys just go golfing…?"

Realizing she just ignored him, he frowned. "I don't care for golf; you have to walk too much."

She spared him a glance, "Shut-up."

Coming to a halt in the hallway, Tyson managed to get Hilary to stop as well. "Want to tell me what's so bad about me and your Dad getting along? I didn't realize there were rules against this… does this go against your plan?"

Hilary paused, considering the fact that he was grinning by the time he got to his last question. He ultimately did have a point, there were no rules refusing the thought of them actually getting along. It did make things easier for her after all.

"You know…," she said sweetly, almost too much so for his tastes, "You're absolutely right. My plan could benefit from this."