![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaebilityTitle: Love in an Elevator
Fandom: Digimon 02
Characters: Willis, Mimi
Prompt: Strangers
Word Count: 676
Rating: PG
Summary: A girl, a guy, a monster in a backpack.
Author's Notes: I'm messing quite a bit with the storyline of Digimon 02; take that, canon! This story, as well as the others for the fanfic100 challenge, will assume that the second half of the season did not occur. Instead, Ken *chose* to be the Kaiser and then *chose* to be redeemed. And only the Chosen Children have Digimon, not the entire world. I'm using Willis' American-dub name, rather than Wallace (simply because I like the name Willis more), but I will be using the Japanese names for the other characters. My little table.
It wasn't so much that she had a head of pink hair and was wearing a pair of heals that were miniature skyscrapers, but that she staring at me with such an intent expression that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at attention.
Although I am a sexy icon of male beauty, her unblinking stare was unnerving, but since the elevator we were inhabiting at the moment was cramped with unfriendly people in business suits, there was little I could do to escape. And despite the jabbing elbows and swinging briefcases, her eyes never left me.
It was beginning to occur to me (the sun, slowly breaking through the clouds) that I had acquired a stalker.
I looked at everything but her. I studied the red carpet, lingering on the tiny black crater of a cigarette burn, and then admired the fedora of pin-striped clad executive. The tinny music of some sappy eightie's love song only heightened the sense of the uncanny. Doom was approach, one floor at a time; the numbers above the door lit and dimmed as the elevator climbed higher
As soon as the doors opened, I flung myself out into the hallway and took off, pushing past the unfortunate souls in my way. From my backpack Terriermon hissed, "She's following us! You should talk to her - I think she's pretty!"
"Yeah, if you like them freaky." I careened around a corner, narrowly missing a woman holding a stack of cups of coffee. "Is she still there?"
"I think you've lost her."
I stopped and leaned against a wall in an attempt to catch my breath. "That's a relief. Damn, Terriermon, have you been gaining weight? Felt like I was running with a bag of bricks on my back."
"Nice alliteration!"
"Thanks, buddy. I try." I wandered over a nearby window and peered out, staring at the ant-like people who were milling about on the earth's surface. "Well, cool view, at least."
Terriermon twisted around until his hands were resting on my shoulder. "Yeah, I like it."
"Me too."
Collective gasps from the peanut gallery. I spun and came face to shoulders with the girl (damn, those high heels were high). My extraordinary wit sputtered and died and my mouth was left hanging open rather than pronouncing the words that would have saved the situation.
The girl smiled and leaned forward, giving me a specualar view of her bosom. "Aren't you a cute one?" She cooed at Terriormon (damn lucky Digimon). "Kawaii!"
My wit returned with a vengeance. "Kawaii?"
A well-manicured hand fluttered to her pink mouth. "Oopsie!" She said with a giggle. "I've been in New York for years, but sometimes my Japanese slips out."
She bent forward to pat Terriormon's head and I tore my eyes from her chest and surveyed the rest of her. She was older than me, probably in her early twenties, and looked way too classy and clean to be a regular college student. She had on a pair of sexy jeans and a sexy button-down blouse with the top few buttons left undone. Her hair color was probably cotton candy, maybe bubble gum, but it suited her. It was about chin-length and fell in a messy, but stylish, fashion around her face. All in all, yummy.
I searched for an engaging and sophisticated conversation starter which would entice her enough to make her forget all about the talking monster in my backpack. "Uh."
She ignored my noise and straightened, glancing over her shoulders to make sure no one else had wandered over to the window. "It's okay," she confided with a whisper and a wink, "I know all about Digimon."
"Uh. That's good."
She tapped a finger against her cheek. "We need to talk," she decided with a firm nod, "But we should do it someplace private." Another quick look around. "Let's go to my apartment."
Probably the most beautiful words in the English language.
Fandom: Digimon 02
Characters: Willis, Mimi
Prompt: Strangers
Word Count: 676
Rating: PG
Summary: A girl, a guy, a monster in a backpack.
Author's Notes: I'm messing quite a bit with the storyline of Digimon 02; take that, canon! This story, as well as the others for the fanfic100 challenge, will assume that the second half of the season did not occur. Instead, Ken *chose* to be the Kaiser and then *chose* to be redeemed. And only the Chosen Children have Digimon, not the entire world. I'm using Willis' American-dub name, rather than Wallace (simply because I like the name Willis more), but I will be using the Japanese names for the other characters. My little table.
It wasn't so much that she had a head of pink hair and was wearing a pair of heals that were miniature skyscrapers, but that she staring at me with such an intent expression that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at attention.
Although I am a sexy icon of male beauty, her unblinking stare was unnerving, but since the elevator we were inhabiting at the moment was cramped with unfriendly people in business suits, there was little I could do to escape. And despite the jabbing elbows and swinging briefcases, her eyes never left me.
It was beginning to occur to me (the sun, slowly breaking through the clouds) that I had acquired a stalker.
I looked at everything but her. I studied the red carpet, lingering on the tiny black crater of a cigarette burn, and then admired the fedora of pin-striped clad executive. The tinny music of some sappy eightie's love song only heightened the sense of the uncanny. Doom was approach, one floor at a time; the numbers above the door lit and dimmed as the elevator climbed higher
As soon as the doors opened, I flung myself out into the hallway and took off, pushing past the unfortunate souls in my way. From my backpack Terriermon hissed, "She's following us! You should talk to her - I think she's pretty!"
"Yeah, if you like them freaky." I careened around a corner, narrowly missing a woman holding a stack of cups of coffee. "Is she still there?"
"I think you've lost her."
I stopped and leaned against a wall in an attempt to catch my breath. "That's a relief. Damn, Terriermon, have you been gaining weight? Felt like I was running with a bag of bricks on my back."
"Nice alliteration!"
"Thanks, buddy. I try." I wandered over a nearby window and peered out, staring at the ant-like people who were milling about on the earth's surface. "Well, cool view, at least."
Terriermon twisted around until his hands were resting on my shoulder. "Yeah, I like it."
"Me too."
Collective gasps from the peanut gallery. I spun and came face to shoulders with the girl (damn, those high heels were high). My extraordinary wit sputtered and died and my mouth was left hanging open rather than pronouncing the words that would have saved the situation.
The girl smiled and leaned forward, giving me a specualar view of her bosom. "Aren't you a cute one?" She cooed at Terriormon (damn lucky Digimon). "Kawaii!"
My wit returned with a vengeance. "Kawaii?"
A well-manicured hand fluttered to her pink mouth. "Oopsie!" She said with a giggle. "I've been in New York for years, but sometimes my Japanese slips out."
She bent forward to pat Terriormon's head and I tore my eyes from her chest and surveyed the rest of her. She was older than me, probably in her early twenties, and looked way too classy and clean to be a regular college student. She had on a pair of sexy jeans and a sexy button-down blouse with the top few buttons left undone. Her hair color was probably cotton candy, maybe bubble gum, but it suited her. It was about chin-length and fell in a messy, but stylish, fashion around her face. All in all, yummy.
I searched for an engaging and sophisticated conversation starter which would entice her enough to make her forget all about the talking monster in my backpack. "Uh."
She ignored my noise and straightened, glancing over her shoulders to make sure no one else had wandered over to the window. "It's okay," she confided with a whisper and a wink, "I know all about Digimon."
"Uh. That's good."
She tapped a finger against her cheek. "We need to talk," she decided with a firm nod, "But we should do it someplace private." Another quick look around. "Let's go to my apartment."
Probably the most beautiful words in the English language.