Chapter 8: Alliteration!

By: Banana Flavored Eskimo

AN: I don't know what's more amazing. The fact that people still read/review this story or the fact that I'm updating this.


"Oh! Look at this one!" Micah cleared his throat dramatically as he dropped his voice a few decibels. "Ravenous Red Ropes Regal Rocker!"

"Ravenous?" questioned Taichi with a quirk of his brow. "Sor here is many things, but ravenous isn't one of them."

Yamato shrugged his shoulders, his feet propped comfortably upon the coffee table before him. "I don't know, I quite like it."

"Oh? And how is this slanderous garbage different from the other trash that has been written about me?" questioned the red head as she tucked her feet under her, settling herself into a large armchair.

For the past week during her stay at "Casa de Yamato" – a name that her husband had often referred to his home as – there had been non stop gossip about their nuptials. She wasn't surprised, seeing as Yamato was an international superstar – although she'd never say it aloud in fear that she may inflate his already large ego.

However, the headlines, tabloids, and stories that followed were not something that she had anticipated. Due to this, she and Yamato had been placed under a house arrest of sorts. They were not to leave the gated community of his posh Southern California locale until further notice; or until Jerry settled on the largest bidder to have a one on one interview with the new couple.

At times she questioned her sanity. Was her dream to become a designer really worth it?

One look at her sketch book and a resounding "YES" would sound throughout her head, but really. Although if she were being really honest with herself, she had to admit that she liked her husband and his band mates. It was hard not to.

They each had their own quirks.

Micah. He reminded her so much of Taichi the similarities were downright scary. In addition, he spoke her native tongue. That immediately endeared him to her. He certainly got a kick out of being able to say things behind both his band mates backs; something which usually had him on the receiving end of Hades' hand or Yamato's wooden spoon.

Hades. He was an enigma. He was dark, sinfully good looking and had a wicked sense of humor. He was also sarcastic. If she were being honest with herself, she had to admit that she was incredibly attracted to the ebony haired guitarist. However, she knew it could never progress more than that. In the short time she had stayed here, he had become sort of a confidant. An older brother if you will.

And then there was Yamato. Yamato Ishida. Her husband. The blonde rock star with an ego the size of Spain. He certainly was something. He was such a puzzle. She wasn't sure what exactly she felt for him as of yet. She liked him; that was for sure. She most definitely was attracted to him physically – how could she not be when the memory of his kisses were burned into her mind. His taste, his warmth, his entire being.

However, it was his eyes that captured her attention. They were such an intense shade of blue. So expressively guarded. A contradiction of sorts. At one moment it would be open for anyone to see, much like a window, then the next it would be guarded and well hid away from the world.

Her husband was exactly that; a contradiction. A contradiction that was now speaking to her and answering her question that she had voiced only moments before.

"Easy," the blonde began as he brought his hands to the back of his head, "unlike the other dribble we've seen, this title scores extra points for alliteration."

The young woman stared incredulously at her husband, her crimson eyes wide with a mixture of amusement and disbelief; silently glad that she had not been caught in her thoughts. He certainly was something. She wasn't sure what exactly that something was, but she decided that she liked it; even if at times it was a bit exasperating.

"And the fact that it referred to you as a 'Regal Rocker' obviously has nothing to do with it right?" voiced Hades with a wicked smirk playing across his full lips.

Yamato shrugged lazily. "Who am I to correct them? They've obviously done their research."

A pillow connecting with the self proclaimed "Regal Rocker" made contact with his oh so "Regal" head.

Blue eyes glared accusingly at his wife, boring into her relaxed form. 'The devious sprite,' he thought to himself. She looked to be the picture of perfect innocence. Curled up in a large armchair, her eyes closed in complete bliss. If it were not for the satisfied quirk of her lips, he would have automatically assumed it was someone else.

The blonde silently admired her ability to look so guiltless when it was obvious that she was anything but. His little red certainly was the spitfire. He'd let it slide for now, but retribution would be swift. 'And kinky,' chirped an annoyingly chipper voice that sounded far too much like Taichi for his liking.

'Figures,' he thought to himself ruefully. 'I get a conscious and it's a horny little bugger that sounds like Tai. Bloody brilliant.'

"Yo Matt, you alright? You aren't thinking naughty things are you?"

Yamato was startled by the actual Taichi's voice. A light blush stained his fair skin, causing the bushy haired brunette to grin widely.

"And does a certain red-"

Taichi's comment was cut short, for the same pillow that had assaulted his person not long ago came in contact with the soccer star.

Hades merely observed the entire scene with thinly veiled amusement. 'Oh yea,' he thought to himself with a soft grin. 'Ishida has it bad.'


"JAPAN!!"

"NANI!?"

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

"YESSSSSSS!"

Jerry glowered under the mix response from the people before him. Fiddling with the suede fabric of his tie, he simply fixed his dark eyes upon them all. "Yes Japan. What does 'nani' mean and no, I am not out of my mind and I'm happy that you're happy Micah."

"Jerry, please think this through. We can't just up and leave for another country-"

"Why?" countered the dark skinned man. "It's not like you haven't done it before."

"That was different," protested the blonde. "We were on tour."

"No worries then, because I booked you for a few performances in Tokyo."

"Sir," began Sora helplessly, "don't you think that this is sudden? We haven't even made any appearances here in America. How would that look to the American audience if they learned that they were placing the interest of a foreign audience ahead of them?"

Jerry grinned, the white of his teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin. "You should get drunk more often Matt. Your taste in women is a vast improvement when you're inebriated. She's a smart one. Say red, where did you go to school?"

Sora blushed at the sudden praise.

"She went to an International School with me for our elementary school years. Then she used that brain of hers to get herself a scholarship to Yale," supplied Taichi with an inelegant shrug of his shoulders. Until that moment he had been silent, simply watching the drama before him like an afternoon soap opera.

"Yale?"

"Wait. Yale as in Yale Yale?"

"How is it that you went to Yale and yet you're only a seamstress?"

The last question earned glares from all around the room as Micah grinned apologetically at the occupants.

"Is it so hard to believe that I went to college," huffed Sora indignantly.

Yamato sighed, his arms encircling her slim waist has he embraced her from behind. "You know that's not it luv," he began. "It's obvious that you're wicked smart, but Yale is one of those hoity toity schools for snobs."

"Hoity Toity?" questioned the red head as she leaned her head against the bassist's shoulder. "Are we in the nineteenth century?"

The blonde poked her in the ribs, causing the red head to laugh softly. "Snarky doesn't suit you luv."

Taichi watched the couple interact with one another. They were becoming more affectionate with one another each passing day that it was becoming norm. He didn't think they even realized how intimate they looked at the moment. 'They're falling and they don't even realize it.'

Sora ignored his last comment. "To answer your question Micah, yes I attended Yale. However, despite my degree in entrepreneurship, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a designer."

Hades let out a low whistle. "Entrepreneurship. Wow."

Another deep blush found its way to Sora's face as she practically glowed from the attention. "It wasn't much."

Taich snorted. "Right Sor. You tell yourself that. We'll believe you."

"As enlightening as this all is, I suggest that you all pack."

"Wait, I'm coming too?" questioned Taichi, a sudden bounce to his step at the prospect of returning to his home country after a few odd years of traveling.

"Don't you have a ball to kick somewhere?" questioned Hades with a quirk of his brow.

"It's off season. I'm free as a bird," Taichi said with a large grin. "So, Jerry, am I included in this little trip to Japan or no?"

The manger sighed softly. "Well, seeing as you are a friend of the band and an acquaintance of little red here, yes, I have included you. Besides, you've been living here for the past week or so-"

"Uninvited," added Yamato.

"Yea, so why not include you. Besides, you're a soccer player. It'll be great for publicity. The more names we have, the better."

The lead singer rolled his eyes heavenward. Burying his face in his wife's fragrant hair, he mumbled softly into the fiery tresses. "Just when you think he's doing something out of the goodness of his heart, he turns it into a way of making more headlines."

Sora laughed softly at his words, her hands entwining with his that were resting around her middle.

"Wait, what do you mean pack now?" asked Hades with growing trepidation. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Exactly what I said," added Jerry. "Pack now, the jet leaves in three hours."

"WHAT!?!?!"


"Oh no, not again!"

Sora frowned, her large crimson eyes clashing with his sapphire blue. Batting her long lashes, she pouted her lip. "Please Yama?"

Yamato frowned, his resolve practically crumbling to nothingness at the look she was giving him. 'Christ,' he thought to himself. 'Forget the soldiers in Iraq. Send his wife over to give those terrorists those Bambi eyes of hers and they'll surrender.'

At least, that's what he thought. The woman obviously knew of the power she held of him – and many others seeing as how neither Micah, Taichi or even Hades could say no when she gave that look.

"Give it here luv."

Sora smiled brightly at his acquiescence. She knew it was a dirty trick, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do and there was no way she was leaving Draco behind.

Lifting the small ferret into her arms, she gently placed it in her husbands coat pocket, smiling apologetically at the wince of pain that crossed his face when Draco had obviously clawed at his leg through the thick fabric.

"You realize that you owe me. Twice now. First for getting your rat into California and now again for smuggling the rodent out of the country. If fact, you owe me big time seeing as how the last time I was bitten and scratched far too much for my liking."

"Fine," sighed Sora. "What do you want?"

The red head faltered slightly under his heated look. 'Oh Kami…'


AN: I NEED A BETA

No, you're not hallucinating. This is an actual update.

Yes, I left it at a cliff hanger of sorts. Why? Well because I ran out of ideas and its 11 pm here at the moment and I have a 7am class. That and I STILL haven't finished my webpage for Editorial Design. XX

So I haven't abandoned this fic, contrary to popular belief. I've just lost interest. Haven't watched/read/seen Digimon in years and now that I'm already a Junior in college I find myself loaded with work.

Despite all this, I will finish this fic. Don't know when it will be done, but I promise that it will get finished. I don't like to leave things un-finished. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Anyways, take care all.

- Banana Flavored Eskimo