Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. If you write them for twenty years though, do you get squatters rights?

Stay

Hilary had always appreciated the dojo. Even as a child walking past it on her way to school, she'd pause to look up at its high walls and enjoy the tranquility that seemed to perpetually surround it like an impenetrable bubble. Of course, once she'd met Tyson, she had never imagined she'd step foot inside the dojo unless it was for a school trip. He'd always been too boisterous, too rowdy and, to her mind, too lazy - the complete antithesis to her.

But things changed, she mused, as she stepped through the gates, her feet crunching over dried leaves as she tasted the ice in the air, her breath misting. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her warm, pink peacoat and wondered if the fog would lift and grace them with some sunshine later. Perhaps. Maybe she could take a book outside and do some note taking in the sunshine as she caught up with her class work.

However now she had another task.

As she walked towards the living quarters, a prickle began to form at the base of her neck. It was quiet. Too quiet. Almost as if no one was around, or worse, the occupant of the building was still asleep.

"Tyson," she growled under her breath.

Of course Tyson was still sleeping. Grandpa sure knew his grandson well.

She stomped across the porch and headed to Tyson's room. Catching the handles, she slid the doors apart and shook her head at the scene before her.

"Oh Tyson," she muttered, watching the lump nestled under a mound of blankets, in deference to the gathering chill in the air outside - though the room itself felt rather toasty. Closing the door to preserve that heat, she toed off her shoes and folded her jacket and placed them side by side, with her handbag, in the corner of the room.

Her footsteps were admirably silent as she crossed the floor and she was about to scare the daylights out of the sleeping male when a hand snuck out from the sheets, caught her arm, and she was suddenly off her feet and on the bed.

For a long moment she blinked at the ceiling, as her brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Then she growled.

"Tyson!"

Shifting on her side, she opened her mouth to shout at him only to receive a faceful of blankets. Spitting them out and shoving them down, she scowled at the back of Tyson's head. "What are you doing? You have practice to take."

Tyson's hand lifted in a dismissive gesture and he mumbled something about two hours before he settled down to sleep again.

"Tyson, you need to set up the space and -"

He rolled over and clamped a warm, rough palm over her mouth. Her lips burned.

"Sssh, Hilary. Sleep."

Ignoring the heat rolling beneath her skin, she groaned and flopped onto her back, removing his hand. Ridiculous. She could never get a conversation out of Tyson this early in the morning. Grandpa shouldn't have left her in charge of making sure Tyson was ready for his classes. He'd get them done but he'd be late, and nothing would be ready and this was just typical Tyson. How Grandpa thought she'd get through to him, she'd never understand. Kai… no. Not even Kai could tear Tyson from his bed, unless a beyblade battle was mentioned. If she challenged Tyson to one, he'd probably fall out of bed laughing - which would achieve her goal, she supposed.

"You're not sleeping."

She glanced over at him. "No. I'm awake. I've been awake for a some time now, Tyson. Even walked outside."

"You're due a nap. Sleep."

She could just barely make out his words as he mumbled into his pillow, eyes still closed, hair tied back from his face, bangs falling to the side. His face was crumpled with sleep and he looked ridiculously adorable. Her fingers twitched and she curled them into fists.

She sighed and rolled to face him. "Tyson you need to get up."

"One hour."

"Fine. One hour. I'll go make breakfast or something." She heaved herself up, feeling like she'd won a minor victory. One hour of a lie in was much better than two; it, at least, gave him time to eat breakfast and clear up the training room.

His arm flopped over her waist and startled, her heart thumping, she glanced over her shoulder. "Tyson?"

One brown eye opened to blearily regard her. "Just stay, okay?"

She nodded carefully, then settled back down into the bed. Catching an extra hour of sleep probably wasn't a bad idea, given how early she'd awoken. Rolling onto her side away from Tyson, she closed her eyes and prepared to drift off, smiling softly when Tyson mumbled something and tugged the covers up over both of them.

A.N. This is pretty terrible but I'm so out of practice writing wise so I wanted to just do something and I have always wanted to play with Tyson and Hilary.