Chapter 1: Married?
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Digimon or any of the chracters. It belongs to Fox and other respectable owners. Ha! Now you can't sue me! Anyways, this is an alternate universe meaning that most of the characters haven't met one another yet.
Ages:
Sora, Taichi, Yamato ~ 22
Mimi, Koushirou ~ 21
Jou ~ 23
Miyako, Ken ~ 19
Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke ~ 18
Iori ~ 17
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Soft sunlight filtered through a small window settling themselves on a worn green comforter. The bedsprings groaned, as one of the figures started to stir. His dishelved golden blonde hair struck in different directions as he lazily rubbed the sleep out of his sapphire eyes. Groggily looking around the room, he yawned loudly. "Where the hell am I?"
He felt disorientated and confused at his unfamiliar surroundings. Recalling the events of last night, he frowned slightly. Blurred images and incoherent thoughts raced through his mind in a jumbled mess.
Rubbing his upset stomach, he resisted the urge to retch. He reeked of alcohol and nicotine, although he wasn't the least bit surprised. He was in Las Vegas, the city of sin. It was not uncommon to come to his hotel room smelling of beer and cigarette smoke. The city was layered in that odious scent.
Blindly reaching to his side, his hand froze upon coming in contact with a warm body. Biting his lip, his sapphire eyes cautiously looked to his left.
"Shit." That mono syllabic word seemed to sum up his current situation quite nicely. A woman, of that he was sure, was currently sleeping. Cinnamon red locks spilled over pillows, greatly contrasting with the deep green comforter. Dark lashes gently brushed her flushed cheeks making him wonder if she was a bit warm. Gazing at her right hand, he noticed that it was covered in small bandages and fading cuts. She shifted slightly, allowing a long slender leg to peek out from beneath the covers. From what he gathered, he could guess that the comforter was the only thing keeping her modesty.
Normally this wouldn't have bothered him. As a celebrity, he had been with many women and it wasn't unnatural to wake up next to one. What bothered him was that he couldn't remember anything of last night.
He had come to the conclusion some time ago that he had been deliriously drunk last night not to remember any of the events. Glancing at the woman carefully, he shook his head furiously. "You must have been really drunk last night not to remember a body like that," he mumbled to himself.
The sound of a cell phone broke him out of his current thoughts. Whipping his head to the right, he awkwardly pulled his pants from the lampshade. Digging through the pockets, he glared at the offending phone as he read the caller ID. Sighing in resignation he pressed the answer button. "Yamato here."
"Matt! Bubby, buddy, oh little superstar that brings in the dough and gives me a nice comfortable way of living. Did I tell you how much I have grown accustomed to this higher style of living? It's quite nic-"
"Stop rambling Jerry and tell me what you want?"
"Right. Right." Jerry coughed a couple of times to clear his throat. "Listen Matt, I'm all for stunts and such, but did you have to pull something like this? What about all those adoring fans of yours that want to be with you. You've basically crushed all those little school girl dreams."
"What are you talking about?"
Jerry paused briefly. "Matt, listen to me. Is there a woman in your bed?"
Yamato almost dropped the phone in surprise. How his agent knew that startled him. "How did you know?"
Yamato could hear the distinct sound of flesh meeting a solid surface. Jerry had probably banged his head against the table. It was a bad habit his agent performed when disappointed. "You were drunk weren't you?" Jerry questioned hoarsely.
Yamato frowned slightly. He wasn't exactly sure as to where Jerry was going with this, but he was intrigued. "So what? It happens to everyone from time to time."
Another loud bang met Yamato's ears. "Check your left hand."
Yamato looked at the small cell with bewilderment. Glancing down to his left hand, his jaw dropped.
"Judging by your silence, I'm guessing you're now looking at a cheap gold band adorning your ring finger. Guess what Matt. She has one too!"
"But I, I don't, how?" Yamato sputtered incoherently.
Jerry sighed deeply. "News of the lead singer to The Wolves eloping in Vegas doesn't stay quiet for too long."
Yamato berated himself for being so stupid. He swore loudly, cursing alcohol and himself. "But I don't even know her!"
"Listen Matt. You could always have an annulment."
Yamato had too many thoughts running through his mind to think clearly. "Jerry, I'll call you back in a bit."
"Right Matt. You take care of yourself."
Yamato cradled his head in his hands, fighting off the oncoming headache pounding in his temples. "What am I going to do?"
"Where am I?"
The soft female voice echoed in his ears. Turing to his left, he looked at the woman beside him. Her small hand was clutching a worn sheet to her chest protectively as the other held a lampshade threateningly. He would have found it quite comical if it wasn't for the fact that a glimmer of gold caught his eye. Sure enough, upon her left ring finger was a gold band similar to his.
Calmly taking a deep breath, Yamato thought it would be best to calm the woman before she decided to use the hollow lampshade in defense. "From what I gather, we're in a very cheap motel room."
The woman frowned at his vague answer, her crimson orbs flashing dangerously. "Listen, from our lack of clothing I can honestly state that we both had a little too much to drink last night. How about you turn around and let me change and I'll leave and then we can both get back to our lives."
Yamato was slightly surprised at her small speech. She certainly had guts. "I don't think I could do that."
The woman's uniquely colored eyes narrowed. "And why not!?" She bit out.
"Because," Yamato motioned towards her left hand, "you and I seem to be husband and wife."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To Be Continued........
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Authors Note: Well? Tell me what you think? Like, dislike? Don't be afraid to be harsh. I like constructive criticizsm.
Well, I hope that you liked. Please review! Reviews = 3
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Digimon or any of the chracters. It belongs to Fox and other respectable owners. Ha! Now you can't sue me! Anyways, this is an alternate universe meaning that most of the characters haven't met one another yet.
Ages:
Sora, Taichi, Yamato ~ 22
Mimi, Koushirou ~ 21
Jou ~ 23
Miyako, Ken ~ 19
Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke ~ 18
Iori ~ 17
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Soft sunlight filtered through a small window settling themselves on a worn green comforter. The bedsprings groaned, as one of the figures started to stir. His dishelved golden blonde hair struck in different directions as he lazily rubbed the sleep out of his sapphire eyes. Groggily looking around the room, he yawned loudly. "Where the hell am I?"
He felt disorientated and confused at his unfamiliar surroundings. Recalling the events of last night, he frowned slightly. Blurred images and incoherent thoughts raced through his mind in a jumbled mess.
Rubbing his upset stomach, he resisted the urge to retch. He reeked of alcohol and nicotine, although he wasn't the least bit surprised. He was in Las Vegas, the city of sin. It was not uncommon to come to his hotel room smelling of beer and cigarette smoke. The city was layered in that odious scent.
Blindly reaching to his side, his hand froze upon coming in contact with a warm body. Biting his lip, his sapphire eyes cautiously looked to his left.
"Shit." That mono syllabic word seemed to sum up his current situation quite nicely. A woman, of that he was sure, was currently sleeping. Cinnamon red locks spilled over pillows, greatly contrasting with the deep green comforter. Dark lashes gently brushed her flushed cheeks making him wonder if she was a bit warm. Gazing at her right hand, he noticed that it was covered in small bandages and fading cuts. She shifted slightly, allowing a long slender leg to peek out from beneath the covers. From what he gathered, he could guess that the comforter was the only thing keeping her modesty.
Normally this wouldn't have bothered him. As a celebrity, he had been with many women and it wasn't unnatural to wake up next to one. What bothered him was that he couldn't remember anything of last night.
He had come to the conclusion some time ago that he had been deliriously drunk last night not to remember any of the events. Glancing at the woman carefully, he shook his head furiously. "You must have been really drunk last night not to remember a body like that," he mumbled to himself.
The sound of a cell phone broke him out of his current thoughts. Whipping his head to the right, he awkwardly pulled his pants from the lampshade. Digging through the pockets, he glared at the offending phone as he read the caller ID. Sighing in resignation he pressed the answer button. "Yamato here."
"Matt! Bubby, buddy, oh little superstar that brings in the dough and gives me a nice comfortable way of living. Did I tell you how much I have grown accustomed to this higher style of living? It's quite nic-"
"Stop rambling Jerry and tell me what you want?"
"Right. Right." Jerry coughed a couple of times to clear his throat. "Listen Matt, I'm all for stunts and such, but did you have to pull something like this? What about all those adoring fans of yours that want to be with you. You've basically crushed all those little school girl dreams."
"What are you talking about?"
Jerry paused briefly. "Matt, listen to me. Is there a woman in your bed?"
Yamato almost dropped the phone in surprise. How his agent knew that startled him. "How did you know?"
Yamato could hear the distinct sound of flesh meeting a solid surface. Jerry had probably banged his head against the table. It was a bad habit his agent performed when disappointed. "You were drunk weren't you?" Jerry questioned hoarsely.
Yamato frowned slightly. He wasn't exactly sure as to where Jerry was going with this, but he was intrigued. "So what? It happens to everyone from time to time."
Another loud bang met Yamato's ears. "Check your left hand."
Yamato looked at the small cell with bewilderment. Glancing down to his left hand, his jaw dropped.
"Judging by your silence, I'm guessing you're now looking at a cheap gold band adorning your ring finger. Guess what Matt. She has one too!"
"But I, I don't, how?" Yamato sputtered incoherently.
Jerry sighed deeply. "News of the lead singer to The Wolves eloping in Vegas doesn't stay quiet for too long."
Yamato berated himself for being so stupid. He swore loudly, cursing alcohol and himself. "But I don't even know her!"
"Listen Matt. You could always have an annulment."
Yamato had too many thoughts running through his mind to think clearly. "Jerry, I'll call you back in a bit."
"Right Matt. You take care of yourself."
Yamato cradled his head in his hands, fighting off the oncoming headache pounding in his temples. "What am I going to do?"
"Where am I?"
The soft female voice echoed in his ears. Turing to his left, he looked at the woman beside him. Her small hand was clutching a worn sheet to her chest protectively as the other held a lampshade threateningly. He would have found it quite comical if it wasn't for the fact that a glimmer of gold caught his eye. Sure enough, upon her left ring finger was a gold band similar to his.
Calmly taking a deep breath, Yamato thought it would be best to calm the woman before she decided to use the hollow lampshade in defense. "From what I gather, we're in a very cheap motel room."
The woman frowned at his vague answer, her crimson orbs flashing dangerously. "Listen, from our lack of clothing I can honestly state that we both had a little too much to drink last night. How about you turn around and let me change and I'll leave and then we can both get back to our lives."
Yamato was slightly surprised at her small speech. She certainly had guts. "I don't think I could do that."
The woman's uniquely colored eyes narrowed. "And why not!?" She bit out.
"Because," Yamato motioned towards her left hand, "you and I seem to be husband and wife."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To Be Continued........
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Authors Note: Well? Tell me what you think? Like, dislike? Don't be afraid to be harsh. I like constructive criticizsm.
Well, I hope that you liked. Please review! Reviews = 3