Author's Note: Okay you twisted my arm. This chapter is cutting the line while The Arrangement slumps its shoulders in disappointment. =P Just kidding. I secretly wanted to work more with this one. It's too fun.

I'm not accustomed to writing lighthearted stuff though so I apologize if my pacing is off and it seems to be moving too quickly. I'm still not sure how long I intend for this to be.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs

Chapter Three

In which our hero and heroine realize important things about each other, but not themselves

When Tokio didn't show up the next morning, Saitou found himself more irritated than amused. He had only half expected her to be there, she had even told him that she wouldn't be there, but he had pulled out the Saitou family 'look'. Save Okita, there wasn't a person in the world who could defy 'the look'. It even sent Harada crawling back into whatever hole it was that he chose to climb out of that day.

He hadn't needed to come out this early. He was perfectly capable of making his own breakfast and didn't see much need to do so before six a.m. The first night he had met her at the diner had been a fluke. Loaded with work, he had risen early with the hopes of getting something done in the quiet hours of the morning. The second time, he was willing to admit was out of sheer curiosity, for all of the reasons that she had so eloquently laid out for him.

This time, he desired more answers from her. Her story rang true and he had no reason not to believe her (he had checked with both the university and the bank that held her mortgage. The car dealership had been a little more difficult to track down, but that too checked out,) but there was one detail nagging at his brain.

Why, if he was engaged to her best friend, would she accept Harada as a client if she had the choice to say no?

She had seemed to be a level headed, if slightly cocky and irriating woman and if not for her habit of dancing in the near nude, he might have even considered paying for the coffee they had spoken over.

So then was Sugawara Masa completely oblivious of the going-ons between Tokio and Harada? If so, then there was no reason for the waitress to continue on her friendship with the grey eyed beauty. She would have to know the truth behind her so-called friend and though it may be difficult to take at first, it would be for the best.

Not that he cared, of course.

When Saitou entered the diner again, around one in the afternoon, it was not in search of the entertainer, but food.

The food was good here; he wouldn't deny it, and it was only a few short blocks from the station. As Harada had a personal connection with everyone in the building, they were treated very well and Saitou had no qualms about choosing the establishment.

Masa was there, as usual, and just ending her shift. She worked five to one, for obvious reasons, and Saitou positively shuddered when she became all doe eyed at Harada's greeting. Foolish girl.

Just after their food arrived, Saitou felt a strange presence behind him. A small shadow was cast over his shoulder and whoever it was that had just stepped into the diner had no real intentions of moving just yet. Generally, this wouldn't have bothered him, nor would he have noticed it for much longer than a fraction of a second. The eyes on the back of his head, however, was not something he could ignore.

"You're late," he said simply, not turning around.

Curious as to why his friend had just said such a thing, Okita, who had at last returned from his vacation, turned, and upon seeing the short woman glaring over the booth, he let out a wide grin.

"It's Miss Ophelia!"

Not giving Saitou the time to turn around, Tokio appeared beside him and with her hands on her hips, cast a disapproving frown at the three police men.

"You're sitting at my table."

Masa, standing behind the counter counting her tips, knew the scene that was about to unfold and thinking quickly, ripped a receipt off the pad, jotted something quickly with permanent marker, and, sticking a piece of tape onto it, reached over and handed it to Tokio.

Saitou looked over at her with a satisfied grin on his face. "I don't see your name on it."

Knowing that her best friend was good for times such as these, Tokio slapped the piece of paper down, running her thumb over the tape to smooth it out.

"Really?" she asked, brows raised, "because I believe this says, Property of Takagi Tokio, courtesy of the Sugawara family."

Masa quickly ducked down as Saitou's sharp eyes snapped to her, but both Okita and Harada were hiding giggles behind their hands.

Reaching forward, he peeled the makeshift sign off the surface of the table, slowly crumpling it up in his gloved hand.

"Childish," he said, raising his fist and tossing the paper at her. It bounced off of her forehead and she scowled, crossing her arms.

Harada began to slide himself out of the booth, choosing to take his lunch over to the other side of the restaurant where it looked like some college girls were enjoying a study session. They looked bored. He'd have to entertain them.

"Where are you going?" Saitou asked him, his mouth set in a line of disapproval, "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

"Eh, maybe some other time, Saitou," he said, standing and dusting off his pants, "there are ladies in need of my company. Have fun with Tokio, though."

He gave a short wave and headed over to the girls, much to the dismay of Masa, who was standing with her hand half raised and her mouth open, about to ask him if he would walk her home. Seeing him scoot into the booth of estrogen, her face fell and she went back to her counting.

Not waiting for an invitation, Tokio took up Harada's spot, and, ignoring Saitou completely, flashed Okita a smile.

"Congratulations, Okita-san," she said cheerfully, pulling Harada's abandoned water towards her, "I'm sorry about what happened at The Empress."

Happily, he laughed, "Oh, it's okay. It's your job, after all."

Together they began conversation on his wedding, his honeymoon, and of course, his bride. This irritated Saitou. For one thing, Okita was his friend, and Tokio had absolutely no business coming over and acting as if she had known him forever. Secondly, Okita had just exhausted himself of all newly wedded details. There was no need, no need, to give him a reason to start up again.

"Shou-chan wanted a big wedding, and I mean a big wedding-"

"Okita."

Okita paused, hands in the air for his description of just how big this wedding was to be, and he looked over at Saitou, who made a small gesture with his hands for the smaller of the two to stop talking. Okita's mouth closed instantly and he lowered his arms.

"It was really big," he told Tokio, relaxing and sitting back, before adding with a whisper, despite Saitou's annoyance, "really big."

"I don't doubt it," she replied, "I mean, I didn't realize you were engaged to Yamata Shousha."

"Takagi-san," came Saitou's voice, warning her not to get into it. Having grown up with the two lovebirds, he did not feel the need to sit here and re-live it. Once was quite enough. Perhaps even too much.

"Oh," laughed Okita, "Yeah. My Shou-chan and I have been together forever."

"Okita."

Tokio smiled, taking a sip of the water she had stolen. "You know I danced for her father? He's such a pig. No offense, or anything."

"TOKIO!"

Pulling the straw out from between her lips, Tokio gave Saitou a curious glance. "Can I help you, inspector?"

Taking a calming breath, he folded his hands on the table, as he had the morning before, and, unblinking, stared ahead at her.

"I believe we have something to discuss."

"No," she said, pointing a finger at him, "You said you wanted to discuss Sanosuke over pancakes. You are clearly eating pan-fried vegetables. Veggies and cakes are not the same, no matter what you cook them in."

Pushing the plate aside, he resisted the urge to strangle her. "You will explain to me your relationship with Harada if I have to force it from you."

"That desperate to catch me being bad, are you?"

Her teasing tone was not appreciated by the stony faced wolf before her, but Okita, seated on the inside of the booth and therefore trapped (it really didn't appear that Saitou would be moving any time soon), looked at her excitedly. Saitou had given him all the details of his findings on this woman and he, too, was eager to know why she got on so well with Harada.

"Were you one of his girlfriends?" he asked.

Saitou scoffed. "A woman on his rotating schedule, perhaps."

Slamming the cup down onto the table, Tokio reached over and gave Saitou's chest a small shove.

"You really want to know?" she asked, settling back in her seat, "then fine, but don't let your jaw hit the floor too hard when you realize how obvious it is."

Saitou raised a brow, a display of arrogance and misplaced self assurance. "Your affections must have been free then," he told her, "as you say you've never whored yourself out."

"For your information," she snapped, "Sanosuke is a better man than you think."

When he gave her a sarcastic look of hurt, she added, "and a better detective than you give him credit for."

Okita's phone began to ring and when he answered it with a grin, Saitou stood, allowing him to leave. It would be better this way. Tokio would have nothing to distract her.

Once alone, she continued. "You're new around here, so I doubt that you know the ins and outs of what goes on in the city just yet.

"While it's true that Sanosuke is a philandering asshole, he's not just an unfaithful fiancee or a vice ridden cop. When he comes into the club, yeah sure he enjoys the company of women, but you have to understand what sort of place The Empress is and what sort of clientele we get."

"Men," he replied, "Rich men."

"Yeah? And how many of those men are rich through hard and honest work?"

Saitou leaned back. "I'm not following."

With a roll of her eyes, Tokio rested her elbows on the table. "Ophelia's job is to make men want her, to make men trust her. And if there is one thing men love to talk about above all things, it's themselves. Lust is an amazing thing, inspector. It clouds the mind and with a little bit of help, frees the tongue.

"A man will tell me most anything if he honestly believes I hold him in a higher affection than any of my other clients."

"And where do your lapdances with Harada come into play?" he wondered, pulling the red plastic cup of water from her hands and taking a long sip from the straw. He was in desperate need of a cigarette, but it would have to wait.

He hated waiting.

"I've been friends with Sanosuke for a long time. It's only natural that I would help him with his work."

"Ah, so you are his contact."

She shrugged. "There's a bunch of us. I'll be honest though. As much of a jerk as he can be, I really look forward to seeing him there. Somewhere beneath the layers of pervert and scoundrel, there's a good guy who just isn't ready to settle down.

"He cares about me, you know. He'll come in and pay for an hour or hour and a half alone with me and sometimes we just hang out. No dancing, no touching. We'll talk, have a couple drinks, and goof off. It's nice, you know.

"Papa G knows all about this and doesn't say anything because Sano's one of the regulars and despite all his policing, he never causes trouble. He's actually stopped trouble on a couple of occasions. He's got a good sense of when one of us is getting uncomfortable, even if some of the girls are too desperate for cash to say anything.

"He'd make a good bodyguard. Masa's lucky. When he finally realizes he's engaged for real, he'll probably be a really awesome husband."

"I find that difficult to imagine," Saitou murmured.

"So is that it?" Tokio asked, looking up at him. "Am I free of your skepticism?"

"Sugawara is completely aware of what goes on between you and Harada?" he asked, not quite ready to end the conversation. There was something quite enthralling about watching her get worked up.

"Yeah," she replied, "it was pretty awkward at first, but like her parents, she knows the difference between Tokio and Ophelia."

"Also," she added, "outside of the club, Sano isn't affectionate with me at all. He doesn't kiss or hug or anything like that. He might be insensitive, but he's not an idiot."

"No," Saitou said firmly, "He is most definitely an idiot."

At that, Tokio cracked a smile, letting her teeth light up her face as she laughed and in that moment, Saitou saw a glimpse of something he had never expected to find.

xxxx

A few days after her last interrogation, Tokio was caught completely by surprise. As she descended the back stairs of The Empress, wrapping her light jacket around her body, she snapped her clutch shut and scanned the parking lot for her cab. She had the same cab driver every night and had become friendly with the man.

He liked her because she tipped well.

He hadn't arrived yet, but she wasn't concerned. He was always within the two minute bracket.

As her feet left the last wooden step and touched the pavement, a deep voice broke through the silence of the early morning.

"You still owe me pancakes."

Letting out a short scream, Tokio's hand flew to her heart as Saitou pushed himself off the wall of the building and she tried to steady her breathing. What was he doing here?

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she snapped, shoving his hand away as he tried to take her elbow, "Shit, inspector. A little warning, you know?"

Lighting up a cigarette, he looked down at her. "Watch your mouth."

"Yeah well," she said, pulling her coat more tightly, "you really can't just freak people out like that."

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, blowing a steady stream of smoke out into the darkness. "There is plenty of security here."

"I don't know," she said defensively, "It's just scary, okay? I mean, it's always quiet out here and then I have some guy popping out at me and telling me to buy him pancakes! That's some serial killer shit, that's what that is."

"I told you to watch your mouth," he said plainly, successfully taking her arm, and leading her away from the building, "and you do owe me pancakes."

"I never agreed to buying you pancakes."

"You never had to," he told her, "but I'm not paying for them."

Considering this, Tokio glanced up at him, wondering why her feet wouldn't stop moving. She was walking with him, just as he clearly wanted, but even as natural as it felt, she suddenly realized that she didn't know why.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, "Really, inspector, you could have-"

"Hajime."

Stumbling over her feet for a few steps, Tokio rightened herself with a strong grip on his arm. "What?"

"I am giving you permission to call me by my name," he told her. "My name is Hajime. You will use it."

"Oh." She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and continued on with her inquiry. "Then why are you here, Hajime? There are easier, less sleep depriving ways of reaching me. I heard you looked up my file. Surely you know my phone number."

Saitou didn't give her the pleasure of eye contact. "I told you. You owe me pancakes."

"But you could have just waited for me at the diner."

It was true, he could have, but he had realized something terrible as he had listened to her second explanation of her actions, and that something was jealousy. Even though he had seen the woman a grand total of four (now five) times, she was right. He was impressed with her and that was no easy feat.

When she had been talking with Okita, she had been so animated, so alive, and despite what he thought of her, Saitou had felt a small pang of nostalgia, wishing to see the dawn's glow on her hair once more.

During her tale of her dealings with Harada he had admitted that his colleague was much more dedicated to his work than he had originally assumed and when she had gone on about how he looked after her, Saitou had been hit with a rather sudden, and rather crushing blow.

Harada had a woman, even though he didn't realize it, and Tokio was far too good for him to be dealing with. She knew exactly where she was going and had a clear path leading towards her goals. She was well put together, well educated, and free of any scandalous drama.

It was petty, and it was a stupid show of masculine petulance, but if this woman was as professional as she claimed to be, then she deserved a little bit of help from someone far more capable than the rooster haired womanizer. For example, there was no reason for her to be out alone at such an hour.

These musings, of course, were completely private, never to be uttered, and not even entirely recognized by Saitou himself. In the thinking part of his brain, she owed him breakfast and he would see to it that she made good on her word. This, of course, meant retrieving her himself.

Every morning.

At first Tokio had been annoyed. She had a system. She'd clock out, call her cab, change her clothes, get in the cab, go to the diner. This was they way it worked and she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

While yes, she had agreed to buy him pancakes, each morning he ordered everything but. Maybe it was to irritate her, maybe he didn't even like pancakes, but regardless of the reason, it gave him an excuse to come by again and drag her down the street.

She knew this game. He thought that since she was an honest woman she couldn't possibly manage life at four-thirty in t he morning. What was it with men, she wondered, that they seemed to think that girls were so weak? Had she not proved herself to him already?

Over the weeks, she found that she didn't mind him so much. It took nearly forty-five minutes to walk from The Empress to the diner and though Saitou wasn't a man of many words, she had learned quite a bit about him.

For instance, he had begun smoking at twenty. He was stressed, he had told her. She didn't see what was so stressful about second year of university that he would feel the need to pick up such a detrimental habit, but he (forcefully) refused to speak on the subject any further, so she didn't pry.

She also learned that he was a gentleman. His words were scathing, and the looks he gave her condescending, but his movements were fluid, practiced, and habitual. He probably never realized when he opened the door for her, or that he always made sure she walked on the inside of the sidewalk. Hell, Tokio was willing to bet that when he nearly pounded a rogue thug into the ground for using foul language in the presence of a lady, he was simply exercising justice and keeping the city clean.

Of course, this never stopped him from using foul language in front of ladies. Should she ever call him out on it however (and she did), he simply looked down his nose at her and with his typical air of arrogance, reminded her that she wasn't a lady at all.

Their budding friendship did not go unnoticed by his friends who, at every chance they got, wormed their way into his affairs.

Lunchtime was one such affair and there wasn't much he could do about it. On her days off, Tokio appeared there around the same time as they did. With her steadily strengthening relationship with Saitou came a complete acceptance of his friends, and their use of her table. Okita had even smoothed out her wrinkled proof of ownership and had gone out of his way to frame it and place it in the center of the table each time they ate.

"I just don't get it," Masa said one day, sighing as she rested her head on her folded arms. Her shift was done, Harada was nowhere to be found, and she had joined Tokio and the two police men at their booth.

"I do everything for him," she went on, "why does he have to date other women?"

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Sugawara," Saitou clipped, "You should find yourself a better man."

Okita looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sure Harada-san is just going through a phase, Masa-chan."

"His whole life?" she asked, voice muffled by her sleeves. It wasn't often that she let his ways disturb her, but there were certain times during the month that a girl couldn't help but get just a little upset.

Tokio put a thoughtful finger up to her lips. "You know, Masa. Maybe he just doesn't realize how much you love him."

"That's pretty difficult," Okita put in, "Masa-chan does everything for him."

"Well yes," Tokio admitted, "but that isn't anything new. He's so used to being waited on hand and foot, I don't think he realizes why she does it."

Masa lifted her head, using her fingers to push back her wavy black hair. "I'm not going to confess to him. He'll laugh at me and say, Oh baby, you're so cute." With a grunt, she lowered her head back down. "I hate when he calls me baby."

"No," said Tokio, "You are going to woman up and show him how you feel."

Before she had a chance to argue, Tokio pushed her from the booth and scooted out herself.

"Stand there," she instructed her friend, ushering her over a few paces and tapping her shoulders to signal her not to move. Satisfied, she turned to the two men before her.

"Now which one of you wants to be the dummy?"

"What are we doing, Takagi-san?" Okita asked.

"Nothing worth our time," Saitou noted pushing his empty plate away. Masa moved to clear it, but Tokio's reprimanding grip stopped her.

"We," she explained, "are going to show Masa how to capture a man. I need one of you to be her test subject."

"Tokio," whined Masa, crossing her arms, "this is not going to work."

Tokio ignored this. "Masa here has never had a boyfriend so she doesn't know anything about men. I think she may have given a boy her e-mail once, but I'm fairly certain that was for a science project they were working on together.

Face burning, Masa glowered at her friend. "You didn't have to tell them that," she hissed.

Though Okita was about to interject with a statement on how it was perfectly acceptable to be devoted to one person your entire life, Saitou cut him off.

"That's no good."

This surprised even Tokio, who knew that he had absolutely no interest in womanly matters, especially those pertaining to Harada.

"Harada is a man who likes the bold, the experienced, and the dangerous," he went on, "it's no wonder he doesn't desire you. Whispy virgins are of little interest to him."

Masa blanched. "Y-you think I shouldn't be a virgin?"

Saitou gave her a bored look. "I don't care what you do."

"I think it's sweet that you're saving yourself for him," Okita said with a gentle smile, "girls don't really do that anymore."

"Neither do men," she replied, slumping her shoulders.

Tokio waved this off with her hand. "Men never have. The need to breed is in their blood. They can't help it."

"I waited for Shou-chan," Okita told her with a small pout, but Saitou snorted.

"Holding off sex until you reach the age of consent hardly counts as waiting," he responded, "and the fact that you've been with the same girl since you were six makes your entire point null and void."

While Tokio giggled at the exchange, Masa's eyes began to water and her bottom lip quivered. "You've l-loved her that long?"

"Oh for crying out loud!" Tokio shouted, giving her friend's face a couple light smacks. "get a hold of your hormones, woman! Hajime, get over here."

Saitou glanced up. "Excuse me?"

"Come here," she repeated, "I need your help."

"Ask Okita," he told her, pulling out his phone, "I'm busy."

Tokio shook her head. "Can't," she said tugging on his arm and pulling him to a reluctant standing position, "he's married."

With a wide grin, Okita wiggled his way towards the edge of the table. If he wasn't allowed to participate due to his marital status, and Saitou was to take his place, this was going to be very entertaining indeed.

Once Saitou and Masa stood face to face, Tokio cleared her throat. "Now, we all know that Sanosuke is a man who craves affection above all else. In order to successfully gain his attention, you have to take him completely by surprise and show him that you mean business."

Masa looked doubtful.

Saitou looked deadly.

"Masa," Tokio said gently, "you need to learn how to kiss him."

Eyes wide, the waitress let her gaze travel up the body of the man before her. He was big, much bigger than she was. Though he was similar in size to Sanosuke, there was a terrifying power that Saitou emitted and it was far too much for someone like her to deal with. It didn't help that he looked about ready to spit fire.

"I don't think-"

"No, no!" Tokio said sharply, catching her wrist as she tried to sit. "If you can learn how to kiss a man, believe me, he will never look at you like a childhood friend again. You may be inexperienced and you might be shy, but if you show him that you are willing to learn, I will bet you any sum of money that Sanosuke will be more than happy to teach."

"Oh, that's true," Okita agreed.

"This is ridiculous," spat Saitou, spinning to resume his seat.

Watch, Tokio mouthed to Masa, reaching forward and grabbing hold of his collar.

He hadn't wanted to turn, he hadn't meant to look at her, but in the fraction of a second that he watched her run her tongue over her bottom lip, he nearly lost himself completely.

It happened in an instant.

Tokio released her freezing grip on his shirt, sliding both of her hands over his cheekbones. They settled on the back of his head, fingernails teasing the fringe on the nape of his neck. Their pull was strong, difficult to defy, and when she stood on her toes and crushed her mouth to his, he went rigid.

It was an act, a display, and he knew it, but no matter what his brain was telling him to do, his body, for the first time in his life, betrayed him. His right hand found its way into her hair, and he cursed the elastic keeping his exploration to a minimum. Keeping her in place, he molded his own lips against hers, kissing her back more fiercely than was necessary.

He could feel her knees going weak and he smiled against her. She was smart mouthed, annoying, and far more perceptive than any woman ought to be. It would serve her right to be bested at her own game.

But Tokio didn't feel bested. She didn't know what she felt, but whatever it was, it was wonderful. She had grown to enjoy his company, look forward to their walks, and even tolerate his smoking, but never once had she fantasized about him. Now, with his hands on her, it was all she could do to keep from throwing him up against the counter and tearing his clothes off.

"Well, shit."

Harada's voice broke through the air, heavy with newly discovered desire and Tokio pulled away, stepping back awkwardly. Saitou cleared his throat and rightened, pretending not to notice Okita's shocked, yet approving expression. Masa had paled completely.

"So I thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Tokio snapped, snatching her purse up and brushing by him as she stormed out of the restaurant, thoroughly embarrassed.

Harada gave a shrug and nudged Saitou with his elbow. "So, what about it, Haji? You guys shackin' up yet or what?"

"No," he replied stiffly, "what you witnessed was a lapse in judgement and a lack of self control. It won't happen again."

Without another word, he, too, swept away.

"Oh my God," Masa breathed, collapsing onto a bar stool. "they're falling in love."

"You said it, baby," Harada agreed, giving Okita a high five as he sat across the table from him. "though I doubt either one of them will admit it any time soon."

"You're right," said Okita, chewing on his bottom lip, "they're going to need help."

"Hey, Okita, did you say you are going to need someone to watch the house in a couple of weeks?"

Okita furrowed his brow, trying to remember ever putting in such a request, but as he caught wind of what Harada was suggesting, a wicked grin spread across his features.

"Well, Shou-chan did say she wanted to see an old friend in Tokyo for a long weekend."

Harada shrugged. "And really, you should go visit your mom."

"And sisters," Okita added.

"Oh yes," he agreed, "most definitely."

It was then that Masa found enough air to breathe successfully again. "What makes you so certain that Tokio will agree to house sit with Saitou-san?"

"The cute," Harada replied solemnly. "You can't deny the cute."

Masa tucked her hair behind her ear. "What's cute?"

"Ta-chan," Okita said cheerfully, flicking through the photos on his phone. Finding what he was looking for, he shoved the image into her vision.

"No one can say no to Ta-chan."

xxxx

Author's Notes: Ta-chan! :D :D