Author's Note: I felt like our dear Tom Tanaka needed a little love, so here's what I came up with. Reviews are loved, especially since this is my first attempt at sitting down and writing in a while.

Chapter One: Naomi

"You could help, you know." I swiveled my head to look back over my shoulder as my boyfriend – Or the guy I call my boyfriend anyway. Why do I have him living here, to be his maid? – walked by, as though I wasn't on my hands and knees scrubbing motor oil stains he had tracked into the apartment out of the tile.

As usual, I got no response. Ignorance was bliss, and he was one of the most blissful people I'd ever met in my twenty-four years. Funny, I always seemed to exist just fine when he needed money or dinner... Heh, for the next week or so I certainly wouldn't. Not that the man would actually be smart enough to pair his crime up with my punishment.

I rocked back on my heels, keeping track of his path as he kept moving toward the bedroom, a beer in hand. "Hey, seriously?" I asked indignantly. "I give myself one day off a week, and you're going to make me spend it cleaning by myself?"

Shuya glanced back, hesitating mid-step as he cast me a look that might have counted as disgruntled. Concern or even pity – not that I'd want that from him – wasn't a part of it though. Distaste for work, that was him all over. "You're doin' fine, Sugar. 'Sides, the place isn't that dirty. You'd get it done a lot faster on your own, without me stumblin' all around, getting in your way." With that, he waved a hand, as though to say go on, continue, don't waste your time on little old me, and walked away.

"Don't call me 'Sugar'," I snapped, seething, as I tossed the scrub brush aside and traded it out for a polish rag I'd had draped over my shoulder. There was no point in arguing with him, he would just tune me out, and the work had to get done, regardless of who did it. Time spent on him was a waste of it. The man would never change.

A knock on the door interrupted my overly enthusiastic polish assault on the hallway tile. I paused, and after a moment the knock came again. Okay, so whoever it was wasn't going away. The question was, who could it be so late in the day on a Sunday?

"Can you get that?" I called back to Shuya. "Kinda busy in here, you know." Again... No reply. Shocker. Though there was another, slightly less patient knock at the door, with a familiar male voice coming, muffled but strong, around the solid wood.

"Shuya Watanabe! We know you're here, open up! We're here to collect!"

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Again? Really? This had to be a mistake.

Please, let this be a mistake.

Getting up from the floor, I tossed the rag back over my shoulder and moved to answer, since Shuya definitely wasn't if he'd heard that call, and I didn't want to add fixing a kicked-in door to my list of things I needed to do today. Not that I would blame our visitors. They always gave fair warning before they went that far.

And at least they were working.

Sure enough, I opened the door to find two men that, after the last time, I had thought I'd never have to see again. Partners, both dressed neatly and professionally, if in a mismatched fashion: one in a brown suit and dreadlocks, his taller companion in the black and white bartender outfit with dyed blond hair lingering just behind him, an unlit cigarette in his mouth as he kept an eye out through blue tinted shades.

"Good evening, Tom. And you, Shizuo," I greeted as pleasantly as I could, forcing a smile, although I felt like a slob. I was dressed for cleaning; no makeup on, my hair thrown up in a ponytail with bits trailing free. This just wasn't anyone's day. "Is there anything I can do for you gentlemen?" Maybe it was beating around the bush, but it felt like it would be rude to be blunt with them, and, frankly, these two men didn't deserve that attitude.

And even if they did, I'd have to be a little stupid to give it in front of Shizuo Heiwajima. I wasn't scared of him, even though he was Tom's bodyguard. As far as I was concerned, I had no reason to be. He didn't seem like a bad guy, but... Well, I figured his reputation couldn't have just come completely from thin air. There had to be some truth in it.

Tom raked a hand through his dreadlocks, brow furrowing slightly as he looked first at me, then cast a cursory glance around what of the apartment he could see behind me. I hadn't exactly kept the door narrow. I had no intention on giving them a hard time. The last time they had come to collect on Shuya's debts, I had held them up, trying to strike a deal to get my boyfriend some extra time to pay. I'd sworn on my own reputation that the debt would be paid, and, from me, that wasn't a small matter. I kept my promises and I kept my name clean. I was a school teacher, I had honor that needed to be upheld. Shuya had used this as a distraction to flee.

Out the window.

Down a drain pipe. And he'd dragged my pride on his heel on the way down.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Naomi. We're here to see Shuya again. He owes the boss..."

I'd stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture with my arm for them to come in before he could even tell me the amount. "He's in the back room. Help yourselves. Just please try not to break anything I'll have to clean up."

I wasn't doing it again. They were welcome to him.