A/N: 7 months… er…. Whoops? Can you say hypocrite? Tiny bit of a hiatus for a while, I suppose. Here I am though with a brand new, albeit short, chapter. Something's better than nothing. Next chapter is the stuff I've been living for, so I'm aiming for less than a month. If you care, I've been feeling a lot better than before. And I am disappointed with what I accomplished in the past year, hopefully 2009 will be a better writing year.

The following deserve many thanks: steph300, ToraHimeSama, Sony89, sanaa, distantheart, nightpixie, Aiyanne, Unfunny Joke, MePo, cartoon-watcher-4-eva, Tinkerbell04, twilight guardian, Animegurl29 and caroline. I'll be a little surprised if you still review. XP

Also, weirdly, I noticed that because I used to just copy and paste names that if you changed them they won't appear now. I'm gonna have to go back and change that one day. If you're wondering who I'm thanking in the beginning in the story, it's MePo. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. But I did find my old Bulbasaur Pencil Sharpener yesterday… man that thing was so awesome.

Chapter Seven: Daddy In The Middle

"I think my Dad wants us to sit with him," Hilary recalled, watched the man run his hands through his hair downward over his forehead for the tenth time since the incident. She peered to Tyson as he stopped dead in his tracks at the same row; he waved his hand to her passively for her to move. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I think your Dad wants to rip my head off, so, by all means… you go first," the navy haired boy retorted dryly.

"Oh no," she quickly disagreed, "You go first, he'll only growl at you. I'll get a complete lecture."

"You don't tease angry dogs. If I go sit beside him, one false move means jump for the jugular."

Hilary rolled her eyes with a scowl set. "You're an idiot. One, my Dad's not a dog; he's more reserved than you're giving credit. And, we're at a wedding, what more could you possibly do to make him snap like that?"

"I yawn, Hilary. I sit and tell myself not to and the next thing you know it's all I'm doing," he sighed, waving his hand once again for her to move. "Now, please take your seat."

"I'll take my seat when you take yours."

"We're supposed to be mature adults, Hilary," Tyson stressed, taking a deep breath. She had to agree with that, feeling rather silly. "One, two, three – not it!"

"Not it!" She shouted before narrowing her eyes. "No fair, you didn't even give a fair enough warning."

"Take it from a pro Hil, it's better to be on your toes than your heels."

"And it's better to pay attention in class than falling asleep, your point?" Hilary stepped closer daringly. "I demand a rematch."

"Hilary!" The brunette flinched as the voice hissed along the chairs, both teenagers now staring at the rather cold exterior of her Father. Glaring, he pointed at them and then to the chairs beside him with a single solid movement. Tyson put his hand on her back quickly, pushing her along to go first and making her grumble discreetly in the process.

"This was the dragon we were talking about," she whispered heatedly over her shoulder. "And you failed. Way to be the hero."

"If a knight slew a dragon by sitting down beside them every girl's dream would be on some couch with a bag of chips," Tyson smirked, slowly following her. "Preferably with some sort of dip."

"Can you stop daydreaming about food?" Hilary murmured, not even bothering to turn around to see his dumbstruck expression. She was too busy focusing on her Father as he was closer with every step. He had his hand over the bridge of his nose, pinching it like he usually did to ease his thoughts.

"Do you think he'll kill us?"

"Too many witnesses."

"That's comforting."

She nudged him in the chest blindly before finally approaching her Father. Tyson made an odd sound at the contact, rubbing the wound with contempt. Collapsing into the metal chair a space away from her Father, he remained silent.

"Hey Dad," Hilary greeted gently.

Giving a thick smile, he had no chance to reply before Mrs. Tatibana bounded for them from the other side. "We're just about to start," she clapped her hands vividly, watching as the rest of the crowd started to gather for their seats. "Hilary, sit down. Sweetheart, please stop doing that, you're going to give yourself more wrinkles."

Mr. Tatibana grunted, fixing his suit stubbornly. Hilary smoothed out her dress, sitting on the cold metal slowly before scooting herself back. Tyson smiled at her reluctance, holding back his laughter as she sent him a glare.

"I don't know why you're laughing, you have pants," she snapped lowly, bringing her head closer to him so her Father didn't overhear. "Try wearing a dress."

Tyson snorted, catching the attention of her Father as he sent him a strange look. Covering up the noise with a string of coughs, Hilary was rather pleased with his lame attempt that ended with failure. With unease, he murmured back, "I don't look good in dresses."

"Thank you."

"Oh, no problem. At least you're not the only one now."

Her lips thinned as a cocky smile graced his own, but before she could do anything an all too familiar tune started to play and the crowd was on their feet. Not wanting to drop his insult as if it was nothing, she innocently jabbed the heel of her shoe into his foot once again. And without hesitation, Tyson reacted by accidentally kicking the chair swiftly in front of him into one of her Uncles. Wide eyed and wary, the navy haired boy became sheepish as the hulking man turned toward him in question.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, glancing to Hilary. "Leg spasm."

Scrutinizing him silently, he fixed his own chair before giving Hilary's Dad a strange look. Both teenagers glanced to her Father, his expression level and unimpressed as Mrs. Tatibana squeezed his arm in delight, completely unaware.

"Here she comes! Don't the ribbons just bring out her dress?" the woman squealed, making Tyson give her a dubious look that failed to catch her attention. The boy wheeled around to see the woman coming down the aisle and decided that the dress would look the same regardless of the frilly ribbons.

"What happened to the flower girl and Sammy? Aren't they supposed to go up first?" Tyson whispered to the brunette beside him curiously.

"They went up when you were kicking the chair into my Uncle," Hilary rolled her eyes.

Tyson's jaw dropped before his gaze became menacing. "Are you kidding me?" he hissed lowly, "The only reason I'm here is because of Sammy, and you beg me to come, but then, for some reason, you make me miss what I'm here for…. What's your damage?"

"Don't blame it on me if you have to make a big show about everything," she snapped back, "If you had any manners, maybe you could've done a better job."

"A better job? I think you're losing it, sister. Take the blame for once in your life – you messed up. The poor kid probably thinks I'm a colossal jerk."

"And he'd be right."

"Kids…."

"Oh, I'm always the jerk, aren't I? I don't have an ounce of decency in me, do I?"

"Kids."

"It must be pretty deep. I haven't found it yet."

"Kids." Tyson and Hilary both faced Mr. Tatibana once again; his neck red and his voice a near growl. Slowly, the pair realized they were the only ones in the crowd left standing and everyone was watching them oddly. Sheepishly, they sat down, giving the priest the opportunity to progress with the service.

"Ladies and gentlemen, together we are here to celebrate the union of Veronica and Gregory under holy matrimony…."

"You two better be on your best behaviour for the rest of the day, or I swear to God I'll…," Mr. Tatibana warned lowly, obviously close to his limit. "I'll… I'll figure something out, and neither of you will like it."

Tyson crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, finding the metal uncomfortable. Hilary sulked as well beside him, anger still written out on her face. She was evidently ignoring him, and that was perfectly fine, he could now focus on trying to see over puffy hair and shiny scalps to see little Sammy. This failed as he tried to crane his neck around people's heads.

"What are you doing?" Hilary finally murmured, having his head come bouncing too close to her side for the sixth time while he fidgeted.

He fired off his own question in dismay, "Does everyone in your family have such big heads?"

"Unlike yours, they hold our brains."

He glared at her again, starting to get sick of her jabs at his intelligence. "I'm here doing you a favour, you'd think you'd be a little more appreciative."

"I'd be a little more appreciative if you could act your age and behave."

"My age?" Tyson debated with a roll of his eyes. "Would you consider stepping on someone else's foot on purpose as a form of response appropriate for our age? 'Cause I think I'm proving my points pretty darn well."

"I have to sink down to your level so you understand," she told him passively, "Otherwise you still wouldn't know what you were doing wrong."

"Typical. Nobody's as smart as you, eh Hilary?"

"I'd hate to interrupt," Mr. Tatibana said with deadpan, leaning into their conversation over his daughter. "When I said best behaviour that actually meant not talking during the wedding. Whatever issues you have, save them. I don't want to hear another peep out of you two. You're driving me insane."

Nodding, Tyson went back to staring at the scalps of Hilary's family members. The Uncle he had swiftly booted the chair into had a particular shiny head and he found himself squinting to see if he could check a slight of his reflection. The priest words were droning past him, comparing marriage to the likeness of a plant and how it needed nurturing. The navy haired boy decided then that children must be like weeds, and their livelihood is what made all these men bald.

Hilary craned her head to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion. She nudged him in the ribs to catch his attention, and it did. It successfully made Tyson jump with surprise before glowering at the girl. Mr. Tatibana gave them a brief growl as he passed them a glance. Mrs. Tatibana, however, dabbed her eyes at the ceremony, lost to the world beside her.

The brunette tilted her head, giving him a questioning look she believed to be obvious. Tyson was at a loss for her antics, scrutinizing her with utter confusion. He mouthed his question, "What?"

"Can you just sit there without causing trouble?" she mouthed back.

Tyson didn't understand, his expression crumbling further. "What?"

"Stop causing trouble."

"What…?"

"Grow up," Hilary hissed finally, sick of not being able to get her message across. Tyson let out a deep breath, clearly frustrated with her constant putdowns.

Mr. Tatibana slapped his hands on his legs, standing up abruptly and jerking his head for Hilary to move over. His face was dark and the lines in his forehead further creased at the fact he was telling his teenage daughter how to behave in public. Neither Hilary nor Tyson moved at his conquest, in fact they merely stared at his position.

"Excuse me…?"

Hilary's Father turned toward the voice, which happened to belong to the priest that had stopped his preaching. His face burned feeling the inquisitive eyes of the crowd on him, as well as the daggers being sent his way through his older sister. "I-I was…."

"You have a reason these two shouldn't be married?" the priest wondered.

"What?" Mr. Tatibana retorted, wanting to slap himself in the face for standing up at such a cliché time. This only happened in those family friendly television shows that he used to watch with his daughter when she was nine. Which, for all he believed, was five years ago.

"You have a reason they shouldn't get married."

"No… no, I mean," her Father ran a hand through his dark locks for about the hundredth time, letting out a nervous laugh. "Sure, it's only been about… nine months since her last marriage, but the last Kyle, well I didn't have a good feeling about him."

The groom became perplexed. "Last Kyle…? How many Kyle's have there been?"

"I don't know, three… four? It doesn't matter. You're the first Greg and you should get married."

The groom, Greg, stared perplexed at his wife. "You've been married to four Kyle's? You told me you only got married once!"

"Maybe there were five…."

"Shut-up and sit down!" the bride exclaimed, almost successfully making the groom follow suit as he flinched. Instead, Mr. Tatibana slowly took his new seat between the now silenced Tyson and Hilary. "I'm trying to get married."

"In record time," Tyson said lowly.

Hilary's Dad nodded, "Apparently."

The priest, stunned and dazed, wakened briefly from his stupor. "Does… anyone else have a reason these two shouldn't get married? Are there any Kyle's in the audience?" Chuckles escaped from the crowd to be captured by the bride's icy stare.

"God, she could match Kai at a stare down," the blue haired boy said with awe, forgetting Hilary was no longer beside him.

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Heh. Sorry, sir."

"Do you Gregory Reginald Abbott take Veronica Denise Tatibana to be your lawful wedded wife?" the priest continued, feeling the intensity of the bride.

"She didn't keep her last name?" Tyson leaned forward over Mr. Tatibana to talk to Hilary.

"Tatibana is her last name."

"Why are you two still talking? I'm right here in front of you and all you're doing is yapping."

"Sweetheart, this is a wedding," Hilary's Mom sighed, frowning at her husband with disdain. "Can you please stop talking so I can hear?" The older man gaped at the request, making Tyson and Hilary smirk with amusement.

Greg made a serious grunt at the alter, having not yet answered the priest's question. "Five Kyle's?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, "Because I've married a few Kyle's you don't want to marry me? You're the one that proposed."

"You brought me ring shopping on our fifth date…."

"So you don't want to get married…?" the bride's eyes started to well with exaggerated tears making panic rise within Greg's veins.

"No! I mean, yes! I mean…. Yes, I still want to get married to you."

"Then you kinda have to say something…."

"Oh… right. I do. Sorry, it's the first time I'm doing this," as soon as the words left his mouth, Greg flinched yet again. The bride was not as amused as the audience.

"Er… do you Veronica…?"

Tyson bopped his head in front of Mr. Tatibana again, making the older man growl profusely, but much to the blue haired boy's ignorance. "Let's say we got married?" That ceased his imitation of a dog in a heartbeat, looking to his daughter immediately.

"What!?" the man hollered.

"I said, I do," the bride glared at her younger brother in the crowd. "Did I ruin your wedding?"

"I behaved at your first one too…."

Hilary ignored both her Aunt and Father, staring at Tyson with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Let's say we got married…."

"You're not marrying my daughter."

"Right…," Tyson said slowly, giving the older man a levelled look. After a few seconds, his eyes traveled back the baffled face of Hilary. "Would you take my name or keep yours? You'd want to be Mrs. Tyson Granger, right?"

Hilary snorted. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Are you still mad at me? That was like hours ago. I can't believe you're still upset."

"I can," Mr. Tatibana scowled.

"Your Dad is very involved in your life," Tyson decided, receiving a glare courtesy of the man himself. Shrinking back somewhat, the blue haired boy insisted, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Right now I just feel like you should take my name."

Puzzled, he couldn't imagine himself doing something like that. "Tyson Tatibana?" he said incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows with concentration. "Wait… I think I get what you're trying to say."

Hilary was doubtful, not knowing what she had meant herself. Her words had actually just been a comeback that was slightly delayed. "And… what was that?"

"I'm being Veronica."

Hilary's expression crumbled. "What?" both her Father and herself voiced with complete confusion. Laughter was on the tip of her tongue because his face had become so serious.

"I was being Veronica earlier, looking for my next Kyle while you, Greg, were busy doing something else," Tyson sighed, becoming sheepish as he played with his cuffs. "I get it now. I was being a jerk."

In a round about way, he was speaking the truth and it made Hilary smile. "That's the first time you ever said that to me."

"Hopefully it will be the last…."

"You don't want to be a jerk anymore?"

"I'd rather not apologize for it."

Hilary rolled her eyes as her Father bobbed his head back and forth between the two of them. He couldn't quite fathom what had just happened, watching the anger virtually dissipate from their features.

"You may now kiss the bride…."