Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

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A/N: Sorry for the long wait... This fic is actually turning into a longer one and I don't have a plot, so it's a bit difficult to figure out which direction to take it in.

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"You're coming with us."

"Huh?" Was my less than intelligent reply to the guard that had spoken.

He didn't bother repeating himself, nor did any of the others say anything. The one that had spoken grabbed my upper arm and started dragging me away from the marketplace.

I had come out to scout out the marketplace and plan a specific stage of our rescue mission. We had been planning it for a week and had quite a good plan formulated. It wasn't perfect yet, and we would need at least another week to perfect it, but—for once—I wasn't rushing. The mission had to be perfect, so that we could free Yamato for good from the Count's grasp.

Speaking of the Count... I looked up at the large stone walls and iron gate of the Count's castle.

I was expecting the guards to take me directly to the Count, but apparently they had other plans. We entered the castle and headed—not into a grand hall or an office—but down. The stone steps were long and straight.

Upon realising that we were headed for the dungeons, the cells, possibly a torture chamber—my feet hesitated. The guard didn't miss a beat, however, only tugging harder on my arm, jerking me forwards.

I didn't know what to do; I hadn't struggled or fought against the guard, knowing that I was outnumbered and that it would be futile. Should I surprise them and make a break for it? Would it actually work? Probably not.

Once we made it to the bottom of the long staircase, we took a left. One of the others walked past us and around another corner, disappearing from our sight. I did, however, hear the sound of a key turning in a lock and a heavy, iron door opening.

We rounded the same corner and I saw a cell. My new home.

I was shoved in less-than-politely, the door slamming shut behind me. I turned around, going up to the bars, grabbing hold of them.

"Wait!" I demanded. The guards ignored me. "Tell me why you brought me here!"

I was left alone.

Huffing in annoyance, I went to sit against the cold stonewall in the back. I pulled my knees up, rested my chin on them, and glared at the cold stone corridor.

I knew that my being here had something to do with Yamato. There was no other explanation: I hadn't stolen anything, or robbed anyone, or hurt, or killed. Well, it's not like the Count cared about those kinds of things, anyway.

But what was that 'something'? Had Yamato said something about me? Was the Count just late about punishing me for dancing with Yamato at the party? Did they think I had been trying to help Yamato escape that time at the marketplace? Had they caught wind of my plans to steal Yamato away?

I looked around the empty dungeon and sighed; there was nothing to do and no one to talk to. I guess I would just have to entertain myself until the guards came back.

Breaking out seemed impossible.

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I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the sound of a key turning and the heavy iron door opening woke me up. I yawned, languidly stretching out any kinks—only to be jerked up roughly.

"He—" My yell was cut off by a hand over my mouth.

"Keep quiet, idiot." A deep—familiar—voice shushed.

My eyes widened, staring into familiar blues.

Yamato uncovered my mouth, pulling me out of the cell with silent urgency.

"Yama..." I followed, stunned. "What...?"

"Quiet, I said." He was pulling me up the long stone staircase, moving fast, yet carefully. We reached the top step. He peered around the hall before urging me along, to the other side of it and pushed me under a small table. I watched as he pulled some kind of folded fabric from under his shirt. He threw it over the table and I realised it was a table cloth—one large enough to reach the floor. Clever.

Yamato peered under the cloth, "Stay here. Stay quiet. Don't move or do anything, until I come get you. Got it?" I nodded. "Good." Then he was gone.

I have no idea how long I spent under that table, listening to the sounds around me. It was probably the middle of the night, judging by the lack of people. I could, however, hear one set of footsteps approaching. They were too heavy to be Yamato's and my heart jumped into my throat. I gulped—too loudly? The footsteps stopped, not too far from my hiding place. Shit! I tried to calm my heart, which was making too much noise, in my opinion.

"What do you think you're doing here?" I jumped at the strange voice, almost banging my head on the underside of the table.

"What's it to you what the Count wants of me at night?" Yamato's cool voice replied.

I let out a long breath—silently, mind you. The stranger didn't know I was there; he had been talking to Yamato.

Grumbling something under his breath, the stranger turned around and left the hall. Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then Yamato startled me again by popping his head under the cloth again. This time, I really did jump into the underside of the table.

"Ouch..." I mumbled, rubbing the soreness away.

Yamato's blue eyes narrowed at me, as he grabbed my forearm. "Idiot, be quiet. And come on; we need to move."

The blond male was pulling me in the opposite direction of where the guards had brought me in from. I trusted him and followed. He led me to the laundry area, which was empty, save for the drying sheets and clothes.

Yamato gave my arm a gentle tug, moving—very slowly—towards the back. To a door.

He stopped and turned to me, hand on the doorknob. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were sad. "You have to listen to me very carefully and do exactly as I say."

"Of course." I said, dumbly. Why wouldn't I?

He shook his head, making his golden locks sway from side-to-side. I had a momentary urge to touch them. "I mean it, Taichi." He gave me a pointed look. "From here, you need to be quick. Run as fast as you can, to the wall. Stay low. Do not make noise. Once you reach the w—"

"Wait." My eyes burned into his. "What do you mean 'you'? We're leaving together." He shook his head again and I got angry. "Yes we are. I am not leaving you. We are going to get out of here together."

"No."

"Yes."

"Taichi—"

"Yama." This time, I gave him a pointed look. "We are getting out of here together."

"Leaving are we?"

Both Yamato and my eyes widened and I spun around. I came face-to-face with the Count, himself.

He was a few inches taller than Yamato or I—both of us being about the same height—and quite handsome. His hair and eyes were dark, but not quite black. His shoulders were broad and he had a goatee. He was dressed in an expensive-looking, thick, silk robe.

Yamato pulled on my arm, moving himself in front of me, shielding me from the Count.

"Please let him go. He hasn't done anything." Yamato's voice—so cool, calm, and collected in the past—held a tremble and was just above a whisper. "Please, Master." I hated to hear him beg.

"Yamato," The Count's voice held as much authority as his stance and his head was tilted back, enabling him to look down at Yamato. "This man has touched something that does not belong to him. He needs to be punished."

"Don't!" Yamato released my arm, opening both of his own at his sides. "Please. It's not his fault; he didn't do anything. I'm the one to blame. I'm the one that seduced him. I tricked him into helping me. Please let him go and I will never have anything to do with him again." They were all lies.

The Count chuckled; apparently he didn't believe the blond man, either. "You know I can't just let him go. That would not be good for my image. He needs to be punished."

In one swift motion, Yamato was in the Count's personal space, gripping the front of the noble robes. "Please. I'll do anything. Anything at all. Just, please, let him go and forget this whole incident."

A finely sculpted dark eyebrow rose. "Oh, but it wasn't just one incident, was it, Yamato? It was many."

"Please!"

I snapped: I couldn't let my Yama keep begging like this. "Drop it, Yama." I stepped up, pulling the blond away, and glared at the older man. "Go ahead and punish me." Yamato made a sound of protest, but I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "But know this:" I drew myself up to my full height and was pleased to note that the Count was now less than an inch taller. "I will not take the punishment lying down. I will fight you every step of the way. I will do whatever it takes to escape. And I will take Yamato away from you."

The room was bathed in silence.

Then the Count let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! I'd like to see you try. Didn't put up much of a fight coming here, did you?" He had me there. "And you had better know this:" He leaned forward and I could feel his breath on my face. "No matter where you go, I will find you. Even if you and that whore managed to escape, I would find you." He straightened again. "In fact, sometimes I let him escape; I enjoy the chase." His eyes flickered to Yamato, then back to me. I didn't like the look in those dark orbs. "Tell you what; I'll let you both escape." My eyes widened and I heard Yamato draw in a sharp breath of air. The Count smirked, moving past us, to the door, and pushing it open. "Go ahead and leave. I will give you half a day's head start. My men will begin the chase tomorrow at noon. Make the most of what time you have." With that, he left.

I looked to Yamato and he was staring back at me. We were both in shock. What was going on?

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