Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Peregrine ❯ Gamble ( Chapter 2 )

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Gamble v. intr.
1. a. To bet on an uncertain outcome, as of a contest. b.To play a game of chance for stakes.
2. To take a risk in the hope of gaining an advantage or a benefit.
3. To engage in reckless or hazardous behavior.

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"Viva Las Vegas with the neon flashin'
And the walls crashin'
All those hopes down the drain
Viva Las Vegas turnin' day into nighttime
Turnin' night into daytime
If you see it once
You'll never be the same again"

The pre-purchased headphones were quickly removed from the ears they covered. The listener smirked to himself, exhaling in a derisive snort.

How cheesy. I'm flying into Las Vegas, and they play covers of Elvis tunes. Perfect. I can't believe I paid five dollars for this crap.

A wrinkled hand fell onto the traveler's shoulder with intent to comfort.

"There, young'un. Don't fret. I've flown all over these States, and never crashed once." The elderly lady smiled sweetly, apparently missing the intent of her row mate's expression. "What's your name? I'm Beverly Jones."

"Wallace, ma'am. Wallace Ford." He moved a bit of blonde from his eyes. "I'm okay now, thanks. I think I'll take a nap. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Jones." He excused himself, relieved when his neighbor did not press for more conversation.

He removed his own walkman, sliding in one of the discs from his personal collection, a compilation of songs that held personal significance to him from his own experiences and of his old acquaintances. With a press of a button, the device was set to shuffle the tracks, even though Wallace realized his mind would expect the next track in the sequence he determined when the disc was recorded.

Eyelids fell as though they were composed of lead rather than flesh. The memory of the events preceding the current flight rose unbidden to claim precedence over more pleasant thoughts.

Sera. LadyDevimon. How was I supposed to know? She looked....felt....human.

A faint sigh escaped as Wallace shifted uncomfortably in his reclined seat. He pondered that first meeting.

"So, you talk to the dead very often?"

"No, not often. They usually don't talk back."

"Damn shame. I think they'd have plenty of good stories to share, don't you?"

What stories did she have to share? The question floated through the waves of recollection.

That he was being watched and followed was certain, but who could possibly be the Polonius in this act, spying on him from the other side of the tapestry as he sought to bring the situation to the best resolution? Would he end up destroying the spy as Hamlet did, or would there be a Ghost to guide his actions, as there was with Hamlet as he dealt with his wayward mother.

Great. Am I in such a tragic situation that I'm using Shakespeare to give it meaning? If I don't watch myself, I might start spouting off in prose. That might almost be funny.

The urge to laugh was strong, yet he held it back to prevent further attention from the aged cohabitant of row twenty-one. Instead, he mumbled to himself as though releasing bits of a dream-spawned conversation. With a lazy shift in position, he was soon facing the oval portal, the glass separating him from the dramatically different pressure outside.

"Impossible....I was assured that....I'd lose nothing in the....process."

"You were lied to. We all were."

Lied to? About what? Wallace mused over the events again, especially the final words of the apparently reprogrammed LadyDevimon before she dissolved to dust in his arms.

"Appearances are deceiving. Programming can be changed. People can change. I had a Partner once, but she's dead now. Her responsibility falls to you. Protect the Keys. Make sure the Fire isn't consumed by Darkness."

"What is the Fire in the Darkness? I don't understand? What Key?! Why was I chosen for this? The others have more experience than I do."

"The City of Sin is where to find the next....."

There was no mistake what the "City of Sin" was. Hadn't his mother constantly referred to Las Vegas, Nevada as "Sin City"? It was the only place in his retained knowledge that the nickname had been use as a reference.

Wallace sighed again. What was the purpose of this mission? Why had he been chosen for it? The questions would only be answered by seeing it to the end, only he could not help but want to know why it was him who had been chosen, and not one of the more qualified Japanese counterparts?

Maybe they've done their duty. Maybe they're already involved. Maybe this, maybe that. I'm going to have to eventually bring Terriermon and Lopmon into this. So much for their vacation in the Digital World.

The weary traveler eventually did fall into slumber, unaware that those unknown individuals he feared were spying on him also taking up occupancy on the same flight. A slender teenaged female, no more than fourteen in apparent age stepped past the row on her way from the restroom, eyes shifting briefly to glance at the sleeping blonde in the window seat. She smiled sweetly to the elderly woman seated next to Wallace, demurely tucking a stray auburn lock behind her ear as she continued onwards towards the front of the craft.

"How is the subject, Rosa?" The voice of her commander was barely above a whisper, yet perfectly audible to her well-trained ears.

"Asleep, and will likely remain so until we land." She picked her laptop off of the aisle seat before settling down. A few moments of typing pulled up a series of programs. "The others have found nothing so far, sir." Rosa turned to smile at her superior, her soft voice carrying the accent of her native tongue as she flawlessly shifted to Spanish. "El Japoneses Elegidos no tienen ningún conocimiento de esto."

"Muy bueno, Rosa." The older man leaned over to peer at the girl's monitor. "El otro Elegido?"

Rosa shook her head slowly. "Nada." She blinked in surprise as her commander muttered an expletive under his breath. "Sir?"

"Put that away for now, and get some rest. You'll need it when we land." He glanced away, towards the clouds below.

"Sí." With the simply reply, Rosa did as she was commanded, settling back into the cushions of the airline seat. In mere moments her breathing became slower, a peaceful expression replacing the seriousness she wore since the moment she witnessed her parents' demise, until the dream began.

It had been hours since she last saw light. Even the humidity of the coastal region could not find its way into the pile of rubble her mother's body protected her from. The girl could see that her mother would not last.

"Rosa," the woman gasped, using the hebetic female's birth name, before the more affectionate nickname. "Poco, Promesa. Usted debe vivir."

"Madre! No! Seremos juntos!" Slender arms were pinned between her body and her mothers, preventing her from wiping the saline liquid that fell from the woman's eyes to her own cheeks. "Madre!"

The tears were only residual. The woman was already dead.

Rosa shifted, the fragile peace of mind restored as her memory-induced nightmare passed on in favor of sweeter imaginings.

The superior glanced towards the youth. Any affection present in those earth-hued orbs vanished once the girl's nightmare began, and did not return even as the dream vacated the sleeper's unconscious mind.

Don't worry, child. You'll have your place once the Keys are in my possession. You won't feel that loneliness any more, I promise you.

The remainder of the flight went without incident other than mild turbulence, and the aircraft landed safely at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, Nevada. Wallace waited until the rows ahead cleared of travelers and luggage before venturing onto the covered walkway leading into the terminal. A flurry of sounds assaulted his auditory senses, with the musical chimes of various slot machines' jingles set to the percussion of the levers used to activate them. Occasionally the sound would be joined by the rhythm of quarters on stainless steel and a shout from those fortunate enough to beat the odds. To the optical senses, the area was nothing extraordinary, save for the presence of the slot machines, and the individuals mindlessly sliding coins into metal slots in hopes that Lady Luck would smile on them.

Wallace most assuredly did not wish to focus on the rising stench from the smoking lounge. He wrinkled his nose as he made his way in the direction the sign overhead indicated.

Noooo. I won't need sinus medicine when I get to the desert. Noooo. There's no nasty blooming flowers to make me sneeze. Noooo. Just cigarette smoke in the damned airport. I thought it was illegal. UGH.

The traveler made it to the monorail stop in time for the shuttle to arrive, depositing those with the intent to leave the city there once the doors opened. Wallace waited patiently for his opportunity to board, doing so once the last passenger lugged the suitcase barrier away to clear path leading inside.

The monorail itself was an interesting vehicle, reminding Wallace of a shrunken bullet train like the ones Daisuke had told him of in various emails. Only two cars in length, it could easily accommodate thirty or so persons without leaving them smashed together like sardines, the neutral tones of rusty brown and beige adorning the walls and floor. A singular rail directed the cars towards the terminal exit, balanced perfectly despite the shifting of the travel-weary occupants. Another cart approached from the opposite direction on a line of its own, mirroring that which the young Ford rode in.

An exit was swiftly and efficiently made once the monorail train stopped, bringing Wallace within clear sight of the escalator leading down. Only after single momentary pause to brush stray gold from his immediate field of view did he move forward, stepping onto the dusty cycle of rubber and metal that transported him downstairs into the luggage claim area.

"Oh damn."

Wallace was not aware the words were spoken out loud, as he stood gaping at the virtual arena labeled "Luggage Claim" by various signs posted about the region. Brightly lit advertisements promised escape to an alternate reality of blue men, or white tigers attended to by ageless tamers, set to overlapping sounds of opera and trance. A rainbow of electronically generated hues greeted the young man in the form of a monitor easily as tall as the home he abandoned in favor of his quest, advising him that he could still make reservations for a seat at King Arthur's Dinner Theater at the Excalibur Hotel and Casino.

"You are attempting to enter an exit only area," a pre-recorded voice announced. "Please move away from the escalator once you have departed, or Airport Security will be alerted."

This was all Wallace needed to break his fixation on that monstrosity of advertisement, and he set a steady pace past the line of bored chauffeurs holding name placards and tourists eagerly searching through the luggage as it orbited a central pillar on a conveyor belt. He turned with a pivot, glancing back towards a pair he assumed to be a father and daughter.

Have I seen her before? He felt certain she had her eyes trained on him at the moment of his about face. With a shake of the head, the Chosen continued on his path, mulling over those striking chocolate eyes and auburn braids.

Wallace gave chase after Sera, just far enough behind that he could reach to touch the raven silk of her hair as it trailed behind her. So intent was he on catching up, that he didn't notice the Hispanic girl, no more than fourteen in appearance, as he crashed into her form.

"Excuse me." The apology was rushed, though no less sincere as seconds passed where pale blue met deep brown....

"New Orleans," he muttered to himself. "It was New Orleans." Feet moved moderately faster, taking Wallace thicker into the crowd as he secretly prayed that the girl's appearance was merely a coincidence.

"Sir, he may be on to us," Rosa lamented. "I can scout ahead." She darted forward, only to be stopped by the larger hand on her willowy frame.

"No, Rosa. That will only alert him more. I think we may need to bring him to us." The superior looked towards his subordinate, taking the pause to brush his long chestnut ponytail behind his shoulders. "No, we'll wait for him to check in, and then register ourselves there. Once we're settled and he's relaxed, then we can use him to track down the next Digital Key."

"Understood, sir." A simple nod of the head punctuated the words.

"So serious, Rosa." The commander shook his head, making a faint "tch" noise with his teeth. "Don't rush into this. At present, Wallace Ford is no closer to holding the Keys than we are. He just has the advantage of a very powerful someone backing him. Remember what I told you? The data that composes the Digital World is fragmented and has corrupted regions. We need the Digital Keys to repair the damage. Now," he grinned once. "We have more immediate concerns, like where to buy dinner."

The girl simply nodded in response with a ghost smile, following the older man into the crowded foyer.

Wallace breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the cab at the shuttle station, assured that there was no way the odd Mexican girl could not follow him.

"Where to, kiddo?" The driver glanced back to the traveler, a trace of amusement ghosting the wrinkle-framed eyes.

"Eh, the Monte Carlo hotel, please." The force of gravity seemed focus upon the Ford's eyelids, plunging his world into temporary darkness.

"Don't fall asleep on me, kid. Monte Carlo, it is!" The white and maroon vehicle moved forward, curving from the length designated for the shuttles, limousines, and taxis towards the path indicated by a sign at the roadside. Wallace forced his eyes open, willing himself to an alertness he wished to deny.

The vehicle moved much too fast for him to make the greenery outside into anything other than a formless mass of malachite and emerald shades, occasionally laced with alabaster and wooden hues to represent the occasional flowering tree. The organic view gave way to the inorganic and more colorful assault of flashing lights and buildings adorned with mythical beasts, steel monsters, and animated attractions on backlit billboards. A glass pyramid labeled "Luxor" promised the experience of ancient Egypt, even as its neighbor attempted to assure potential patrons that a stay there would be kin to the fabled luxury of King Arthur's court.

Excalibur. That's the one in that ad....oh holy crap, when did I get to New York? Preventing his jaw from falling into contact with the leather interior of the cab proved to be easier than stopping his eyes from going wide at the construction of the New York, New York Casino; a smile just as easily crept into his features. Oh, I am so there!

"Here we are, the famous Monte Carlo. Enjoy yer stay in Vegas, kid, and don't let them catch you gambling, or they'll boot ya to the street and call yer folks." The cabbie stopped the vehicle at the vividly lit covered driveway designated "taxi drop off" next to the lobby of the Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino. Wallace paid the driver the expected ten dollars for cab fare, plus a generous five dollar tip and a spoken word of gratitude, and he exited the vehicle, rushing to avoid the heated temperature and greet the air conditioned temperature inside.

To describe the main lobby of the hotel would be a definite understatement. The area was expansive, with a long front desk constructed of a dark wood, likely some variety of oak, resting on short carpet in curling patterns of gold and ivory on a deep crimson background. Regal pillars stood in various evenly measured lengths, and a table larger than even Wallace's family dining room table housed an equally large floral arrangement in violets and crimson, complementing the shades permeating the lobby.

Fighting back hesitation, Wallace approached one of those sections of that endless check-in desk, swiftly obtaining keycards and complementary buffet tickets. He was duly impressed at the efficiency of the red-tressed woman assisting him with his reservation.

"There you go, Mr. Ford. I trust you'll enjoy your stay?" She smiled mechanically as Wallace accepted the folded paper packet containing the essentials for his stay at the place. "Good. Thank you for choosing Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino. Bye bye now!" The artificial expression of kindness never left the attendant's face. "Next in line, please!"

Packet in hand, the weary young man moved down the hall past a bustling gift shop towards the elevator. The number on the packet was 1304. Floor Thirteen. Room Four.

"Lovely," he muttered to himself, pressing into the crowd on the "up" elevator after a significant delay.

While the wait for the car leading to his floor had been torturously slow, the ride itself took mere seconds. Wallace stepped into the circular foyer, peering at the signs that labeled the three hallways branched from that central area. Once assured of the correct area, he set down the hall to one of the early numbered rooms. Magnetically charged plastic was inserted into the thin slot over the doorknob, and swifty removed. With a faintly audible beep, a green light flashed, indicating the door would be unlocked long enough to turn the knob.

To say he was surprised by what greeted him in the room was an understatement. She was blonde, hair a few shades darker than his own and pulled into a loose bun, with eyes of a blue more attributed to the ocean depths. Seated on the bed with her was another female of an undetermined ethnic background, though Wallace assumed she was Asian, indicated by her features and skin tone. Her hair, however, was a most definite tawny color, and naturally so, unless she had one fantastic hairdresser to do her coloring.

"About time you showed up. Rena and I were getting bored waiting!" The blonde girl could have been no older than Wallace, he mused internally, as her companion seemed to be an equal age. "I'm Sari. The Creator guy-thing said you'd be here about this time, and here you are! 'Monsieur Butterfly' doesn't lie, does he?"

"Huh?" It was all the Ford could manage, looking from the enthusiastic expression of Sari to the more serious one of her friend, Rena. "Waiting for me? 'Monsieur Butterfly'? I just got my room key!" He deposited his backpack on the unused twin bed, and then himself, rather heavily. "Mind clearing this up for me?"

"It's quite simple, Chosen." Rena peered at him though the lengthy bangs that framed her calm face. "The Creator sent us to assist you in your mission to find the Digital Keys, and protect them."

"Creator? The Digital Keys? Oh lord." I'd say I need a drink, except that no one here would sell it to me. With a definite thud, Wallace fell heavily back onto his pillow.

"Rena, please! He just got in town. Let him rest up." Sari leaned across the bed, eyes on her new roommate. "Look, we were pulled into this a few months ago. It's because of what happened to us that the Creator guy knows what's going on."

"Don't tell me. One of you is a Digimon, and your name is short for something having to do with angels?" He groaned once, pulling the other pillow over his face.

"How did you know?" Sari blinked. "My name is short for Sariel. I'll tell you why, sometime, but not now." She rolled over, cheeks turning pink as blood rushed to her now upside-down head. "Renamon here is my Partner Digimon. Someone screwed with her programming and unlocked this form for her."

"We refer to it as Gijinka. It's a form that all of us were created with the ability to use, but the ability to reach it was locked away, to protect us." A slight smirk rose to the digital girl's face. "I was taken from Sari a few months ago. They did this to me."

Wallace rolled over, pushing the pillow aside. "What? 'They' who? Can't you change back?"

Renamon nodded. "Of course I can change back, but it's not exactly easy. In the Human World, this form serves me and my Partner better. Of course, it's more vulnerable to attacks, but brings less attention to Sari." A faint sigh was released. "As for who 'they' are, that's what we're unsure of."

"Yeah, it sucks too," Sari piped in. "We were in the Digital World after Renamon came to me. These guys....I don't know, it was so fast, but they grabbed us both. They had her hooked up to this machine, saying they were unlocking her programming, or some bullshit like that. If it hadn't been that she escaped...." The words trailed off as Sariel rolled back to her stomach, placing her head on her Partner's knee.

"Shh, dear friend. It's over now. We're going to stop them." Dark eyes met Wallace's. "We never found out who they are. All we know is that they're after the Digital Keys that protect the Source."

"Source? Hn." The wanderer perched his head on one hand, bent elbow pressed into the mattress. "So this Creator person sent you guys to help me, because you were affected by the bad guys, right?" He supressed the urge to smirk. "Pardon the quote, but 'curiouser and curiouser' comes to mind."

"Yeah, like I said, it sucks." Her words were interrupted by her own loud yawn as Sariel sat up next to her partner. "So, you got those nifty free buffet tickets? I'm starving! Let's go eat! I hunt better after lots of coffee and good food."

So much for letting me rest up. Wallce could not hide the grin that rose at his new companion's excited nature. "So, all bound to get a massive sugar and caffeine high, then kick the ass of whoever is stupid enough to get in our way?"

"Oh, absolutely. We should probably get your Partner Digimon soon too. You're no doubt going to need them." Sari glanced to her own partner.

"That much is true." Sandy strands fell before the humanoid Digimon's face with her nod of agreement. "I can only see it getting harder from here."

"So let's eat then. We can't go off fighting evil on an empty stomach." Wallace stood, offer a hand to each of the females opposite him, one accepted by Sariel, the other rejected by the more independent Renamon.

The wait for a descending elevator was equal to the wait the youth previously experienced, but luckily the car was empty enough to allow the trio room to move and breathe. None said a word, however, though Wallace felt somewhat nervous under the studious gaze of Rena. Sari was apparently oblivious to this, reading over the list of treats that awaited her at the hotel's buffet with a grin plastered on her face that would make The Joker jealous.

Hordes of people already were piled in line by the time they arrived, and advanced at a snail's pace. The presence of the complementary meal tickets allowed them to bypass those who had to pay, and soon the three were seated, each with plates full of appetizing dinner foods.

"Damn, girl! You really must be hungry!" Wallace blinked in disbelief at the pile of burritos stacked on the other Chosen's plate, which she had already began tearing into at a wolfish pace.

"Mm-hm!" She swallowed hard, swallowing a long pull of juice to wash it down. "Beans are good for you! Protien!"

"If you say so. All I know is they make people fart." He smirked.

"Which is why Sari will be pulling up the rear when we go hunting," Renamon chimed in.

"You're picking on me! Renamon has an excuse, but you barely know me, you....poopy head." The blonde stuck her tongue out at Wallace, making a face. "Meanie!"

"Hey, now." Wallace leaned back in his chair. "Don't stick that out unless you intend on using it."

Even Renamon couldn't resist laughing as her partner turned a fascinating shade of cherry, nearly choking on her beverage.

"I think Mister Ford is trying to hit on you, Partner." The Gijinja Digimon's lip turned up at the corner. "The "smoove" is indeed strong in this one."

"Great, now I'm the one getting picked on." Wallace shook his head in mock disbelief.

Teasing comments continued during the duration of the meal, even as none of the group noticed a man and his young ward watching them with great interest. When the small group left to begin the search, they followed at a discreet distance.

"The only clue we have to let us know where to look was 'river' and 'wide window', and the only thing I can think of is that weird boat ride in Luxor." Sariel frowned once, handing a list of casinos to Wallace to peruse.

The wanderer scrutinized the list, item by item, name by name. "Which of these would have something to do with a river?" He frowned, bottom lip curling into his mouth as his teeth impacted lightly on the flesh, until he paused on one name in particular. "The Rio. Rio is Spanish for river, isn't it?"

Rena and Sari exchanged glances. "Yeah, you're right! So let's get a taxi!" The girl bounced ahead, trailed by her partner and Wallace. The necessary arrangments for tranportation soon had the party at the front of The Rio Hotel and Casino.

"Oh GOD. Not again!" A groan escaped from the young man as he glanced around the casino floor. Surrounding him was a two level representation of French Quarter shops and buildings. "I just left New Orleans! This place doesn't even do it justice!"

Past the various slot machines and gambling tables, a round bar provided drinks to people waiting for their number to be called for the rather expensive seafood buffet nearby. The questing trio slid past them towards the right, heading up the escalator to those false representations of French Quarter buildings.

"Well, Monsieur Butterly-person-thingie said it would be here. What happened with the First Key?" Sari poked Wallace's arm.

"I remember Sera....LadyDevimon was in front of a computer when I found her." He frowned at the memory. "But the Key was within her."

"They deleted her then. And in this world, deletion means permanent death for a Digimon." Renamon glanced away, a slight crack in her otherwise stoic facade. She pointedly refused to look at her human Partner.

"There's bunches of computers around here. How are we going to find the one that will show us where the Key is?" Hesitantly, Sariel merely placed her hand on her Digital Partner's shoulder, offering what encouragement she could.

"Computer...." Wallace came to a dead stop in front of the arcade directly past a turn in the long balcony. Before him was a game, Pump It Up, sporting a twin five panel dance pad and a widescreen monitor, currently in menu mode being serviced by an arcade tech. "Wide window. Dammit! Video games are computers too!"

"Oh! You're right, and this one has the widest friggin' monitor window I've EVER seen!" Sariel latched onto the hands of her Partner Digimon and the surprised Ford, pulling them into the arcade. "ExCUSE me!" With a push, she had the technician pushed aside. "Okay, Wallace! Open the friggin' port already!"

Before the game tech could rise from the floor to protest, Wallace held out his D-3, unsure of what to do, but following his instinct. Breath entered his lungs deeply, to be exhaled as the words were formed. "Show us where the next Digital Key is!"

"Rosa!" The male voice from behind had Wallace looking over his shoulder, in time to be tackled into the machine by the same Hispanic girl he had been avoiding since his arrival in Las Vegas earlier. In seconds, Sariel attempted to pull the attacker off of her companion, only to receive a deceptively strong right hook to her jaw, moments before the Gate opened, pulling the four of them to the Digital World, willingly or not.

Various body parts found themselves connecting with stone and earth as the group materialized on the other side of that portal. Rosa's superior training and experience had her steadily on her feet, joined by another large figure in the form of Monochromon at her side, apparently prepared for her arrival. Her mouth opened to speak, before interrupted by an exclamation.

"I'm changing. I can feel it!" Renamon fell to fours, hands elongating and growing fur of the same tawny hue that adorned her head. The transformation back to her standard furry vulpine form took mere moments, but was alarming to the Digimon all the same. "I'm myself again? Sariel, watch out!" She inserted herself between Monochromon and her Chosen.

Rosa leaned on her partner, balancing comfortably with one hand. "I didn't wish to reveal myself so soon, but I couldn't let you get to the Key first, could I? Monochromon, delete the fox. Stop the others." She stood aside with a mock curtsey as her partner rushed at Renamon.

The Digimon dove towards the ground, pushing her partner towards Wallace. "Stay with him. Find the Key before they do?"

"What the hell....? Renamon, you're exhausted from the change!" She was ignored in favor of luring of Monochromon away from the teenagers. "Wallace, Gijinka form makes them weak for a while after they transform. If Monochromon hits her, then...."

"Have faith. I'm sure things will turn out all right." Wallace's words were negated by the vulpine fighter landing with a definite thud a few feet from where they anxiously watched. "I hope."

"Fox Leaf Arrowhead!" Renamon's front paws extended defiantly towards the charging tusked Digimon, before spreading them wide, allowing jagged crystals to fly and imbed themselves in Monochromon's coarse hide. With the last expenditure of energy, Renamon relapsed into the form of Reremon.

Monochromon did not stop, even as Sariel ran to scoop up her exhausted Partner Digimon.

"Sari, move!" Wallace found himself skidding on his heel to a full stop, as a pair of shadows from overhead rained down a stream of bullets and energy on Rosa's raging partner, sending the Digimon off sliding to his side.

"Monochromon!" Rosa ran forward, only to be caught by strong male arms, pinning her own behind her. "Let me go, idiota!" Her steel-toed boot connected sharply with Wallace's foot, and still he held onto her, restraining the girl by pulling her arms farther back.

"Wendimon! Gargomon! You showed up just in time!" Wallace grinned at his partners, just before his captive's head came smashing into his forehead, sending stars across his vision. "Ow, you little...."

"Monochromon, escape!" Rosa rushed forward as her Partner turned tail at her command. Her lithe form slipped away from Wallace's grasp before he could hold her again. By the time the young man's vision returned to normal, his prey had already escaped to explain her failure to her commanding officer.

That's going to leave a bruise. Ow. The injured one took halting steps towards Sariel and Reremon, kneeling next to them.

"Reremon, hold still. Gather your energy! Hey, I'll get you a doughnut when we get back to my world!" Sari smiled brightly through her tears, never minding that the saline liquid splashed on her the ball of fur cradled in her arms.

"....s'ok. I won't be gone long. Primary Village...." Wide adoring eyes turned towards the blonde girl, a full display of her love and regard evident in that glance. "Just as long....as Sari is safe." Eyelids closed; a final breath was released. Sariel was left with her arms wrapped about herself as her partner burst into grey particles of data.

"Primary Village. I'll find you, I promise!" Sariel allowed Wallace to hold her as he offered murmured words of comfort. Her head fell to his shoulder, eyes sliding closed. "I will."

"Wa-ra-ssu!" His partners devolved, snuggling to the sides of the pair. "What's that, Wa-ra-ssu?" Lopmon pointed towards a thin plane, floating above Sariel's knees where her partner had only moments ago dissolved.

The wanderer blinked, eyes wide. "The Key! It was in Reremon! Sari, look!"

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly. "It...it is! Wallace, you better take it!" She nudged his side, indicating the D-3 still held in his hand.

He nodded once, reaching out with the device still firmly grasped. The Digital Key glowed brilliantly, with almost blinding light, before attaching itself and merging with the violet D-3. Wallace almost expected the device to change again, and breathed a sigh of relief when it did not.

"I'm glad that Reremon could help you." The blonde girl wiped her eyes slowly, blushing a deep crimson when Wallace reached to assist her. "You know, my mom died when she had me. Dad said she smiled so happily, just like Reremon did." With great hesitation, she moved away from him, dusting off her jeans. "Dad teaches mythology at one of the colleges in town. He named me after the Angel of Death, because he says many cultures just see death as a change." The face that turned towards Wallace favored him with an honest smile. "It brought good change for you. You have the second Digital Key, after all."

"I do, thanks to you and to Reremon." Wallace stood, wincing at the slight headache formed due to the cheap shot his head took. With an outstretched hand, he helped Sari to her feet, steadying her and himself at the same time. "I guess it's time to head back."

"Wa-ra-ssu! We'll wait for you here!" Terriermon looked upwards into the pale sky trapped in his human friend's eyes.

"Sou! Sou!" Lopmon piped up. The pair leaned in together. "Wa-ra-ssu!"

"I'll meet you in the next town, I promise!" Wallace extended an arm to Sariel, frowning slightly as she shook her head to deny the offer.

"I promised Reremon that I would come find her in Primary Village, and so I will." Impulsively, she leaned forward to give his cheek a soft, yet too-brief kiss. "Don't worry, cutie. You'll definitely see me, and Renamon, again!" She turned and ran, waving behind her before she had a chance to change her mind.

"WOOOOOOOOO, WA-RA-SSU!" The twin Partner Digimon cheered. "Wa-ra-ssu does it again! Mad pimpin'skillz!"

"No! I didn't do anything!" He continued to deny the accusations all the way back to the portal. "Who taught you to say 'mad pimpin' skillz', anyway?"

Morning found Rosa and her commander waiting in the front lobby of the Monte Carlo, scouting for their prey. The superior officer was quite displeased with the failure and discovery of his subordinate, but assured her that the mission was salvageable. The two waited in a discreet location near the exit, keeping an eye open.

"Sir, I see the girl." The young Mexican nodded faintly in the direction of a young woman, dressed in capri pants and tank top, light sweater wrapped around her shoulders. "The sunglasses won't fool us."

"No, Rosa." The heavy hand fell on the teenager's shoulder. "If she is just leaving, then he will have to follow soon. He has to check out, you see."

"I understand." She watched the blonde female make a casual exit, taking the first available taxi.

More minutes passed, quickly turning into an hour, with no show of Wallace.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Rosa?"

"Don't they allow checkout by using the televisions in the hotel rooms?"

The commander was silent.

Rosa glanced to him. "Sir?"

"Shit."

At McCarran International Airport, a young man eagerly washed light cosmetics from his clean-shaven face, ignoring the odd glances he received from the other travelers in the restroom. He made his exit, depositing the capri pants, tank top, and sweater in a donation box for the needy.

Wallace Ford, you should be ashamed of yourself. I am a sly devil when I want to be.

He slid on headphones, heading to the line forming to board the plane that would take him to his next destination, as the mysterious email he received that morning instructed him to.

"I'm Leaving Las Vegas
Lights so bright
Palm sweat, blackjack
On a Saturday night
Leaving Las Vegas
Leaving for good, for good
I'm leaving for good
I'm leaving for good"

End Chapter Two.