A/N: In light of the recent "more-of-a-note-than-anythings" posing as "words-to-watch-out-for", I've given these usurpers their own section. And in the course of writing this author note, have provided yet more evidence in favor of the opinion that I am, in fact, cracked. Not that anyone was surprised or anything, right…?
Disclaimer: Like I really need to be reminded of that lamentable fact….
Words To Watch Out For:
ofuda: a slip of paper with magical properties, usually to protect against something of the supernatural nature (anyone who watches Inuyasha will recognize them; they're one of Miroku's forms of protection…and also commonly used in his fake exorcisms).
More Of A Note Than Anything:
-kun: one of the honorifics, usually used only for young men. However, it can also be applied to young women working in a traditionally male position.
Captain Miserable Finds the Greener Grass
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Chapter Seven: Serenity Now…Insanity Later
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Saké, Tokio decided the next morning, was an evil, evil drink.
When her mother came into her room and shook her awake, saying it was seven thirty and if she didn't get up soon she'd be late, Tokio wanted to die.
Actually, she was reasonably sure she was in the process of dying—the painful throbbing in her head and just behind her eyes told her so.
Her brother, Morinusuke—who was off today—came into her room with a bloody Mary and toast. Tokio took the bloody Mary.
"You should eat something Sis," he chided as he sat on the edge of her bed and watched her sip the red liquid.
"Not unless I want to hurl," Tokio replied, voice rusty. "Gods, I'm never drinking saké ever again!" she moaned.
Morinusuke raised an eyebrow and sent her a dry look.
"You say that every New Year's," he commented, then ducked when she threw a pillow at his head.
It missed and he sat up with a smirk. Tokio glared at him over the rim of her glass.
"You were totally wasted last night," Morinusuke remarked, picking up her pillow and laying it over his lap. "You go out with Teruhime and Kamatari again?"
"N—yes," Tokio said quickly, and Morinusuke's eyes narrowed.
"Sis…."
"What are you, my mother?" Tokio snapped, then groaned when her head started pounding harder.
Morinusuke rolled his eyes.
Looking at them, one never would have guessed they were related. Morinusuke took after their father, with Kojuro's small eyes and prominent chin and deep, gravelly voice. He was, however, much taller than their father; the younger Takagi was an impressive five foot eight in a family where the maximum height for males was somewhere around five three.
Tokio looked like their mother, with her same small frame and huge dark eyes and small mouth. She had her father's temper though; Morinusuke was more like Katsuko in temperament, more willing to find a compromise that suited everyone. Tokio and Kojuro, on the other hand, subscribed to the ever popular "It's-my-way-or-the-highway" school of thought.
Then again, it wasn't exactly odd that Tokio shared so much of her father's personality—up until Morinusuke had been born, Kojuro had been resigned to not getting his long awaited boy, and he'd poured all his frustrated energy into teaching Tokio what he'd have taught a son. And even after getting his boy, he still treated her more like his first-born son than his first-born daughter. Neither sibling minded. It was simply the way things had always been.
Tokio sat back in her bed and sipped her bloody Mary, glad her brother had become friends with the American kids he'd met at a house party during his last year in high school—they'd taught him some very useful things, including how to make the wonderful bloody Mary she was currently drinking.
"You go out with Enishi?" Morinusuke prodded.
"Naw," Tokio replied. "Not this time."
"Akira-kun's friend?"
Tokio sent him an incredulous look.
"Morinusuke, are you on crack? Like I'd get drunk in front of Akira-kun's best friend!" Tokio made a face. "But gods, sometimes it'd really help, you know? Yuichi-san's so boring. I hate it when he calls me to go out."
"So tell him no next time," Morinusuke said, unable to understand why his normally blunt older sister would subject herself to a date she didn't want.
"But he's always been really nice to me," Tokio protested.
"But he's boring," Morinusuke replied.
"It's rude."
"Tell him you're sick."
"And then the next time he asks? I can't be sick forever, Morinusuke," Tokio grumbled.
"You think too much," Morinusuke muttered, and Tokio stuck her tongue out at him. "Be nice, or I won't make you another one of those when you come home wasted again." he threatened, gesturing with his nose to the glass in her hand.
Tokio pulled her tongue back in and sent him a resentful look.
"And after all the nights I stayed up late helping you study for your tests, too," she muttered. "Ungrateful little brothers are the worst."
"Not as bad as unappreciative older sisters," Morinusuke shot back.
"Oh go away," Tokio mumbled crossly. She paused as she thought of something. "Uhm…Morinusuke? Did Papa hear or see me last night?"
"No," Morinusuke said, hiding a grin; if there was one person Tokio was afraid of upsetting, it was their father, whom she adored. "Papa has no idea you came home drunk last night. And he'll be leaving in about fifteen minutes, so I'd suggest you go lock yourself up in the bath room so he doesn't see the bloodshot eyes."
Tokio groaned and threw the sheets back.
"Crap," she muttered. "I think it's gonna be a bad day."
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When Tokio arrived at the museum at half past nine, she was wearing sunglasses and no make up and feeling like calling in sick would have been the better choice.
Her stomach, while declining to relinquish anything, had been threatening to do so all morning, and she was still feeling vaguely off balance and a little dizzy. The bloody Mary had helped a little, as had the two aspirin she'd downed before leaving the house, but her head was still pounding, and the noise on the train, slight though it had been, had not helped; several times, she'd been absolutely sure that she'd been moments away from jamming her heel into the speakers when that annoyingly cheerful music had come on to announce arrival and departure.
Mercifully, she was not attacked by anyone upon entering the museum, and she made it to her office without incident. Sae was seated at her desk outside, and upon seeing Tokio, she got up and bowed low.
"Good morning Tokio-san," she said politely, and Tokio winced a little behind her sunglasses even though Sae hadn't said her greeting any louder than usual.
"Good morning Sae," she replied. "Mail?"
"Here you are," Sae said, holding out a thick stack which Tokio took with a very slight nod that still made her head feel like it was going to explode. Or roll off her shoulders onto the floor. Either one seemed equally plausible at this point.
"Thanks—no calls for the next two hours," Tokio said, walking to the door of her office and turning the knob.
"Oh Tokio-san the officers are—" Sae began.
"In my office," Tokio finished with a sigh upon catching sight of Saitou, Aoshi, Kenshin, and Okita. "Thanks anyway for the warning."
"Do you want something Tokio-san?" Sae asked.
"A bullet to the head would be nice," Tokio said.
"Fresh out of that, ma'am," Sae said politely.
"Then I suppose a cup of coffee will have to do."
"Yes ma'am," Sae said with a nod, and Tokio walked into her office and shut the door.
"Good morning gentlemen," she said, walking over to her desk carefully.
"Mornin'," Okita said, wincing vaguely.
"How are you feeling Tokio-san?" Aoshi asked; he was pale and looked a little tired, and Tokio envied him for a split second, because he looked a hell of a lot better than she felt.
"Ever been hit by a truck?" Tokio asked, tossing her mail on her desk and taking her purse off her shoulder.
"Er…no," Aoshi said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "You have?"
"No, but I imagine this is what it might feel like," she replied, easing into her seat with a sigh and leaning back.
"I knew last night was a bad idea," Kenshin muttered; he didn't look any worse for wear, except for looking like he needed a couple extra hours of sleep, and Tokio really envied him.
"I'll survive," Tokio assured him, then winced when her head began pounding in earnest. "Maybe."
"All the employee records from the museum's start to three years ago check out," Saitou said, forgoing niceties like "Good morning" and "How are you feeling?" and Tokio decided he was the most worthy of her hate, because he looked completely and utterly normal. But she'd have to wait to hate him, because she'd come in late and it was time for business.
…Stupid business.
She turned her attention to him and pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"And the records from three years ago to now?" she inquired.
"About seventy percent of them are legit," Okita said.
"The other thirty have been doctored," Saitou finished.
"Including the Hiruma brothers," Tokio concluded. She sighed and frowned. "Gods…I'm not looking forward to explaining this to the board."
"TOKIO!" Enishi's voice suddenly cut through the air, and Tokio almost leapt out of her chair.
"GAH—OW!" she howled, clutching her head.
The door to her office was thrown open, and Enishi appeared, looking incensed.
"What time is this to be walking in you lazy wench!" he bellowed.
Tokio, who had put her head down on her desk, slowly raised it and sent Enishi a look that would have very likely dropped him stone cold dead where he stood had it been physically possible, so it was a really good thing it wasn't. And since her sunglasses had slid down to the end of her nose and her bloodshot eyes were visible, she also had a very scary air going to add to the effect.
"Do. Not. Yell," she said tightly. "Or I will kill you."
Enishi narrowed his eyes.
"Did you get drunk last night?" he asked. "Your eyes are bloodshot—you did get drunk last night, didn't you!"
"Stop yelling damn it!" Tokio snapped, then whimpered when her head punished her. "Oh gods I'm never drinking saké ever again!"
"You say that every New Year's," Enishi said, then ducked when Tokio picked up the nearest object—her nameplate—and chucked it at him.
"Don't be obnoxious," she snarled, grabbing her stapler when he evaded the nameplate.
"Well you do," he said, and barely managed to sidestep the stapler. "Cut that out, damn it! You almost hit me that time!"
"That's the point!" Tokio shot back, grabbing the stress ball her brother had given her last year and preparing to hurl it at Enishi.
Saitou reached over and grabbed her wrist.
"I think that's quite enough," he said. "Shut the door Yukishiro, and get in here. You might as well hear this too."
Enishi looked wary.
"This is bad news isn't it?" he asked.
"It's always bad news," Tokio muttered, flopping back in her chair. Her cell phone suddenly went off, and she cringed, grabbed her purse and dug through it and answered it to make her head stop threatening to explode.
"What?" she demanded, groaning. She sat up in surprise. "Tomoe-san!"
"Akira's dead, isn't he?" Enishi asked dryly, and Tokio shot him a cold glare that had the officers suddenly admiring the ceiling tiles.
"Yeah, I've been here since eight," Tokio lied, rubbing her temple. "No, everything's fine here. No. No, really, everything's fine. Yes. I swear—huh? I sound weird? Uh…my reception's a little off, that's all," she invented. "No, I'm pretty sure it's the reception Tomoe-san. Yeah. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Right. I'll look into it—how's the boss? Good. Today? Wow, that was fast." She looked over at Enishi and mouthed "Surgery's today," before turning her attention back to Tomoe. "Huh? Oh, you're welcome. Now maybe you'll stop nagging me for being such a bully where Akira-kun's health is concerned. …It's a joke, Tomoe-san, I know you don't mean it. Hm? Oh don't bother, Enishi's here. Yeah, we were exchanging our usual pleasantries—no, he's not unconscious, Tomoe-san."
Tokio held out her cell phone.
"She wants to make sure you're still alive," she said, and Enishi rolled his eyes and stepped forward to take the phone.
"Like you could kill me," he said with a sneer.
"I've come very very close," Tokio reminded him with a saccharine smile.
Enishi's conversation with Tomoe was brief and he was just as insistent as Tokio that everything was fine. When he hung up, he handed the phone back to Tokio and said,
"You know she knows we're lying, right?"
Tokio sighed and put her phone on silent.
"Yeah," she replied. "But at least she can't do anything yet. She'll stay with the boss for the next month, at least, before we have to worry about her poking her nose around here. Hopefully by then, the sky will have stopped falling."
"Or it'll have fallen and crushed us and we won't have to worry about explaining anything," Enishi offered, and Tokio gave him a thumbs up.
"That's the spirit."
Someone knocked on the door.
"If you have bad news you can go to hell," Tokio said.
"I have your coffee Tokio-san," Sae said through the wood, not sounding the least bit thrown off by her boss's announcement.
"Oh. Well in that case come in," Tokio said.
Sae opened the door and walked in, and gave Tokio the biggest mug any of the officers had ever seen.
"Now that's coffee," Okita said.
"Damn straight," Aoshi agreed, and Tokio smiled.
"Sae? Would you get the officers some coffee as well?" she asked, and Okita and Aoshi and Kenshin sent her grateful smiles.
"Yes ma'am," Sae replied, bobbing her head. "By the way, Tokio-san," she began, and the smile Tokio had been wearing dropped.
"I said no bad news," Tokio growled.
"I know ma'am, but this is very important bad news."
Tokio sighed.
"What now?" she asked wearily. "What more do you want from me? Isn't my soul enough?"
"The board of trustees is here," Sae said, and deadly silence descended on the room.
"WHAT!" Enishi and Tokio demanded at the same time.
"They can't be here!" Enishi shouted. "It isn't time for a meeting yet!"
"Why didn't you say anything sooner!" Tokio demanded. "Damn it Sae, this is the kind of crap you need to warn me about, not the payroll!"
"The payroll's important," Enishi said.
"Not as important as getting raked over hot coals by the board!" Tokio bellowed. "Oh gods, I knew I should've stayed home today!"
"Now now," Kenshin said, deciding someone needed to restore order. "Calm down, Tokio-san. Getting hysterical isn't going to do you any good."
"That's what you think," Tokio said bitterly, ripping her sunglasses off her face and tossing them on the desk. "Okay, okay. I can do this. I can bullshit the board, right?"
"You're gonna have to," Enishi said. "What do you want me to get you?"
"Did you update the damage report?"
"Last night."
"Okay, I want that. I want an expenses list and I want you to pull the exhibit budget and all expenditures related in any form or fashion, however minute, to the exhibit."
"Got it," Enishi said with a nod.
"How fast can you get me that?" Tokio asked.
"Twenty minutes."
Tokio winced, then frowned, thinking.
"Okay, maybe if we fed them, they wouldn't mind being made to wait." She looked up at Sae. "They're in the conference room, right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Okay, here's what's going down: you're going to call the nearest restaurant and order breakfast for the board—Shimada-san likes saké with his breakfast," (she made a face when she said that) "and Katsura-san likes fried eggs; everyone else will eat whatever you put down in front of them. Got that?"
"Yes ma'am." Sae said with a nod.
Tokio looked over at Enishi.
"We can afford breakfast for the board, right?"
"To save our asses? Absolutely."
Tokio nodded, then looked back to Sae.
"Run like the wind," Tokio advised. "Keep them busy, anyway you can, for twenty minutes, all right Sae?"
"Yes ma'am—do you want me to order you something too?"
"I prefer not to throw up on the board," Tokio replied.
"Bet you'd make a helluva impression, though," Okita observed.
Tokio and Enishi ignored him.
"What else are you gonna need?" Enishi asked.
"A cross, some holy water and a few ofuda might make me feel better," Tokio replied. "Maybe a priest or two as well, just to be safe."
"I was serious," Enishi said flatly.
"Who said I wasn't?" she returned, and Enishi rolled his eyes.
"I'm leaving to get everything together," he said, striding for the door.
"Me too," Sae said.
"Right," Tokio said with a nod. She paused when she thought of something. "Sae? Find me some eye drops, huh? The ghostly pale face is bad enough without the bloodshot eyes."
"Yes ma'am," Sae said before disappearing, shutting the door behind her.
Tokio sighed and plopped down in her chair wearily.
"Sorry guys," she said, "but I'm going to have to ask you to patiently wait until after the board crucifies me to discuss your findings."
"We can wait," Saitou said. "By the way, we got the search warrant for Wu's office."
"And residence," Kenshin added, and Tokio raised an eyebrow.
"Very nice work gentlemen."
"We aim to please," Okita said wryly, and Tokio smiled.
"And so you have. Well, if you want, I give you permission to rip Wu's office apart while I go meet my Doom."
"It can't be that bad, Tokio-dono," Kenshin said.
"Oh yes it can," Tokio replied. "Not only are they going to go ballistic when they see the damage report, they're gonna scream bloody murder over Akira-kun's having made me Acting Director without their consent—that's a big no-no."
No one had a reply to that, so no one said anything for several minutes, until Saitou asked,
"Do you want me to go in there and explain how we're handling the investigation?"
Tokio watched him, gaze thoughtful, then said,
"That is an excellent idea, Assistant Inspector."
"He's full of 'em," Okita assured her. He grinned. "And other things."
"Not as full of 'other things' as you are," Saitou shot back with a glare.
"Well! How about I point you all in the direction of Wu's office?" Tokio suggested hastily, getting up. "That sounds like a good idea."
"They'll never kill each other," Aoshi assured her. A pause. "But they'll probably hurt each other."
"A lot," Kenshin agreed.
"Death or partial maiming," Tokio replied, picking up her coffee, "is never good press."
Aoshi and Kenshin exchanged looks, then shrugged and nodded.
Tokio led the way to Wu's office, Saitou and Kenshin behind her, and Okita and Aoshi behind them. They approached a door bearing a neat sign proclaiming it "Human Resources." The secretary's desk in front of the door was deserted, and several days' worth of mail was scattered over the desk top.
"Where's the secretary?" Kenshin asked.
"Fired," Tokio replied. "Wu did the honors himself before he decided to screw us over."
"And her records?" Saitou asked.
"Will be in your hands before the end of the day," Tokio assured. She reached out and grabbed the knob and tried to open the door, but found it locked. She held her mug out to no one in particular, not looking back. "Someone take this please."
Kenshin took it from her, and then she grabbed the knob with both hands and tried to force it open for several seconds before she abruptly let go, turned around and looked at Saitou.
"Break it down," she ordered, and he smirked and drew his nightstick.
"With relish," he said, dropping into his Gatotsu stance.
Five seconds later the door exploded, pieces of it flying everywhere. Tokio watched, impressed.
"So that's the Gatotsu, huh?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," Aoshi replied.
"Boy Okita-san, you better hope you never piss Saitou-san off to the point that he does Gatotsu you in the head. I doubt you'd survive."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tokio-san," Okita said dryly.
"I just call it like I see it."
Saitou slid his nightstick back into its place on his belt, then brushed pieces of door off his shoulders.
"You all know what to do," he said, stepping out of the way to stand by Tokio.
"Right," Kenshin said with a nod. "How long do you suppose the meeting will run?"
"Give it an hour," Tokio said, then sipped the coffee she had taken back from Kenshin with a bob of her head and a polite "Thank you Himura-san."
"All right then," Aoshi said. "I'll get the gloves and evidence bags."
"I'll have Sae get Wu's phone records for you too, while we're at it," Tokio said thoughtfully.
"We were gonna need those anyway," Okita said.
"Okay then—have fun boys," Tokio said with a wan yet somehow still cheerful smile.
"Oh we will," Okita assured her with an evil grin. "We will."
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As it turned out, the meeting with the board was actually two hours and forty minutes long, most of which consisted of Tokio making a valiant effort at defending herself and the museum, and Saitou trying to contain the urge to shoot select board members.
She had exactly two of them on her side: Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku, Chairman and Vice Chairman of the board of trustees respectively, and when the other board members got too loud or belligerent or abusive, they stepped in and restored order. Saitou didn't like having to sit back and do nothing, especially not when he saw how sapped Tokio looked midway through the meeting. She was at a huge disadvantage; these were the men who decided the future of the museum, not employees she could order around and snap at with impunity. She had to be extra polite and take the abuse because she was basically at their beck and call…and her being female didn't help her position any. No one ever outright said it, of course, but Saitou was no fool—he knew the board members wouldn't have come down nearly as hard on Kiyosato.
Just as she had predicted, the board members—even Katsura and Takasugi—had a fit over the cost of damages. She took a lot of flack for that, but Tokio handled it surprisingly well, considering the mini panic attack she'd had just before she and Saitou had gone into the conference room; he'd had to make her breathe in and out a few times before she was coherent again.
They'd gone through the list, item by item, and had fought the whole time over how much to spend on replacement cases and the lighting and the new security cameras. They calmed down a little when he talked about the investigation, and only the bravest men on the board dared ask him any questions.
They raised the biggest stink over Tokio's being named Acting Director without the board's say-so—again, just as she'd predicted. They went back and forth on this matter for a long time, and at one point a few of the members started talking about pulling her out and having the board itself assume control, but Katsura abruptly ended that avenue of discussion with a withering glare and several choice words. Saitou saw Takasugi send Tokio a wink before he loudly voiced his agreement with Katsura, and Tokio was watching them with real appreciation in her gaze.
In the end, Tokio received the board's vote of confidence ten to zero, and Saitou imagined she got it for two reasons: one, he was standing behind her seat, glaring at the room at large and daring any one of them to give him a reason to attack them; and two, Katsura and Takasugi made a few very thinly veiled threats that won them his grudging respect.
"You two are godsends," Tokio said to Katsura and Takasugi once the other board members had filed out. "Thank you, really. You don't know how much I appreciate your support."
Takasugi snorted.
"We like you," he said. "You always remember to bring us good saké for New Year's."
Tokio laughed.
"Only the best for the Chairman of the Board and his Vice Chair," she teased, and Takasugi grinned broadly.
"Having Inspector Saitou in your corner didn't hurt either," Katsura observed. "I never thought I'd see a man who could cow Shimada so absolutely with just a look."
"It's easy enough to cow a spineless man," Saitou said coolly, and Katsura smiled faintly.
"Indeed. I've heard excellent things about you, Saitou-san. I'm glad you're handling this investigation."
"He looks like a man can get things done," Takasugi observed, eyes narrowed. "Course, appearances can be deceiving."
"Oh we can count on him," Tokio assured him. "Saitou-san's very efficient."
"Well if you trust him, that's good enough for me," Takasugi said, abruptly standing. He leaned down and patted Tokio's shoulder. "You call us if you run into trouble, okay?"
Tokio nodded, smiling.
"Thank you Takasugi-san," she murmured.
Takasugi grinned.
"You're a good kid, Tokio-kun. We trust you—right Chairman of the Board?" he asked, looking up at Katsura, who also rose.
"Absolutely," Katsura agreed. He smiled at Tokio. "Let us know how Akira-san is doing when you hear, all right?"
"Yeah," Tokio said, nodding. "Tomoe-san'll probably call me later tonight to let me know how the surgery went—he went under the knife…I think an hour ago."
"We'll have to pay him a visit," Katsura decided, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or send him a card or basket, at the very least."
"I think a visit might trigger cardiac arrest," Takasugi said dryly. "Better send a card."
"Hm, right," Katsura said. His gaze returned to Tokio, and he smiled encouragingly. "Remember, Tokio-san—don't hesitate to call us if you need help."
"I'll call, Katsura-san," she said emphatically. "Promise."
They said their good-byes and left, and as soon as the door to the conference room had clicked shut, Tokio sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, and she looked very haggard all of a sudden, with her defenses down.
"You all right?" Saitou asked.
"No," she admitted quietly, surprising him. "I can't get up."
He frowned, then leaned down and helped her up, and found she was shaking very badly.
"Tokio," he said, alarmed.
"It's just nerves," she told him. "Don't worry about it."
"You can barely stand up and you're telling me it's nothing to worry about?" he asked incredulously.
"It's nothing," she insisted wearily. "It'll go away once I relax."
"In that case you may never walk again."
"Hardee har har, Inspector."
Saitou helped her out of the conference room and down the hall toward her office. They were nearly there when Tokio stopped abruptly.
"What?" he asked.
"Restroom," she said, tugging at his sleeve.
"What?"
"Restroom I said," she replied, and there was a distinct edge to her voice now.
"Why?"
"Do you want me to throw up on you?" she snapped.
Saitou raised his eyebrows and abruptly changed direction, helping her to the ladies' room.
"Do you need—"
"No," she said before disappearing through the door, clutching the wall so she wouldn't fall.
He heard her retching a few seconds later, and had to fight the immediate urge to follow her in and make sure she was all right, because she sounded horribly, violently ill.
"Don't worry, huh?" he muttered with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall next to the door.
Tokio gripped the sides of the toilet bowl so tightly she lost all feeling in her fingers. It seemed like a very long time before she'd emptied her stomach, and when the dry heaves had stopped, she managed to free one of her hands and flush the mess away. It took her several more seconds before she was able to rip off some toilet tissue and wipe her mouth and nose, and then rip some more off to wipe the toilet down. Once that was flushed away, she managed to straighten and slide back the latch to the stall she'd run into moments before she'd thrown up.
She made it to the sinks and once she got there she looked at her reflection in the mirror, then winced and wished she hadn't: she was even paler than she'd been before, except for the two spots of red on her cheeks from both leaning over and throwing up, and she was sweating. Her eyes, while no longer as bad as they'd been—those eye drops had done wonders in so short a time—looked dull and glassy.
In short, she rather looked like hell.
"Knew I should've stayed home today," she murmured.
"Tokio?" Saitou called through the door.
"I'll be out in a minute," she replied, then sighed and reached out and managed to fumble the faucet on.
She heard the door whoosh open and looked over her shoulder to find Saitou striding in.
"This is the ladies' room, Saitou-san," she said.
"I can read, thanks," he returned. "Gods you look like shit."
She sent him an impressively withering look, considering how weak she was feeling.
"How sweet," she said flatly.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said, ignoring the look and the tone.
"I'm not a baby," she muttered irritably.
"You may as well be," he snapped. "Now stop being obnoxious and shut up."
He held her steady while she rinsed out her mouth and splashed cold water onto her face, then shut off the faucet for her and left her side long enough to grab a few sheets of paper towel. He turned her around, then dried her face off for her.
"My hands work, you know," she commented.
"I told you to shut up," he said.
"And to stop being obnoxious," she reminded him.
"Yes well, that's impossible," he replied, meeting her eye, and she saw he was very irritated, "which is why I didn't repeat it."
"You are such an ass," she said with a sigh.
"Fine thanks I get," he muttered, gently wiping her chin dry. "I'll have you know one of the secretaries saw me come in here."
Tokio smiled despite herself.
"Then several horribly embarrassing rumors about you are currently making the rounds of the office."
He paused in his attentions and sent her a flat look. Tokio rolled her eyes.
"You have no sense of humor, you know," she told him.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, deciding to ignore the subject.
She smiled faintly, but decided to have mercy on him.
"Some. My head is still killing me, though."
"You should've stayed home," he said. "Made Yukishiro face the board."
"No way, he'd have lost his temper with them and we'd be even worse off. At least now they aren't as mad at us anymore," she replied. "I'm just going to lie down in my office for a little while and hope my eyes stop trying to fly out of my head. Then, I can maybe go see how the lighting installment's doing, and visit Kamatari and Anji-san and hope they have some good news for me, and then, if I can find the time, I'm going to phone my brother and call him several obscene names."
"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because he gave me some advice that failed miserably."
"What advice?"
"'Serenity Now'."
Saitou watched her in silence for several moments, expression inscrutable.
"What the hell is 'Serenity Now'?" he asked finally.
"A steaming load of crap," she replied.
"Well I got that," he replied. "I mean what is it supposed to be?"
"It's supposed to help you calm down."
Saitou rolled his eyes.
"That worked beautifully," he muttered.
"Exactly—thus, steaming load of crap."
A knock on the door interrupted:
"Hello? Tokio?" Enishi called.
"Yeah?" Tokio replied.
"Are you okay? Sae said you were going back to your office with Saitou when you suddenly headed for the restroom."
"I'm fine," she assured. "Just really very tired all of a sudden."
"Should I come in for you?"
"No—Saitou-san's already in here with me," Tokio said, ignoring Saitou's motions to stop talking. "What?" she asked, looking at him, and he looked heavenward and sighed wearily.
"Forget it," he muttered.
There was a long pause outside, and then Enishi slowly asked,
"…Saitou's in there with you?"
"Yeah."
Another long pause.
"Are you two doing something dirty?"
"Yukishiro I'm going to rip your balls off and feed them to you," Saitou promised.
"Eww!" Tokio sent him a disgusted look. "Saitou-san! That's gross! I did not need to hear that!"
"Then you should have kept your mouth shut," he snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
He turned and strode to the door in a very dignified and very affronted manner, and whipped the door open so hard he nearly ripped it off its hinges. Enishi was there, his dark glasses perched on the end of his nose, as usual, his expression schooled.
"Don't forget to zip your fly," he said calmly, and Saitou whirled on him.
"I'm kidding—I'm kidding!" Enishi yelped, holding up both hands in the international signal of "Please-don't-kill-me!"
Saitou growled, then turned on his heel and stalked away, and Tokio waited until she was sure he wasn't around to look at Enishi, who was watching her.
They both promptly burst into hysterical laughter, until they heard Saitou yell at them to shut the hell up, whereupon they settled for snickering like children, as it was safer.
"You know you're in his bad books now, right?" Tokio asked as Enishi threw a brotherly arm around her and helped her back toward her office; she wasn't shaking as badly anymore, but she was still feeling weak and tired.
"Yeah," Enishi said with a sigh. Then he grinned at her. "But that was so totally worth it."
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Saitou cracked the door of Tokio's office open an hour later.
It was lunchtime, and Sae and the other secretaries had gone to lunch, as had most of the executives and the curators and assistants. Sae had kindly provided the officers with lunches from a restaurant down the street yet again, and they were currently in the conference room, wolfing it down. But Tokio, who usually joined them for lunch, hadn't come out of her office since going in earlier, Sae had informed them, and as far as she knew, her boss wanted nothing to do with food or people for a while longer.
But, Saitou reflected, he wasn't people—he was one person, and since her objections had been confined to people, he felt was quite free to come in and check up on her.
She was lying down on her stomach on a small couch up against the wall, next to the door, with her left arm hanging off the edge. Her jacket was covering her legs—she was wearing a knee-length skirt of sedate black today—and her breathing was low and even.
He wondered for a moment if he should awaken her, then decided he should at least see if she was hungry. She ought to have something, seeing as how she'd thrown up whatever she'd had in her stomach earlier.
So he stepped into the office and shut the door, then walked to the couch and stopped by it, wondering how to go about this so that he didn't cause her unnecessary fright and himself unnecessary pain, because he had no doubt she'd come awake swinging if he scared her. In the end he settled for sitting on the couch with her and gently shaking her shoulder.
"Oi, Chiisai," he said, careful not to pitch his voice too loudly. "Wake up."
"Five more minutes, Sae," she murmured.
"I am not Sae, thank you very much," he said with an edge to his voice. "Now wake up wench."
She groaned and cracked an eye open.
"You're not Sae," she mumbled.
"Damn right I'm not," he muttered.
"What's wrong?" she asked, shutting her eye again. "Find something in Wu's office?"
"Nothing of particular note," he said, "but there're still a few files to go through. And Okita's been going through his computer, looking for anything suspicious. It's a little scary how good he is with those things—he'd have been a professional hacker if he weren't a cop, I think."
Tokio smiled, but didn't open her eyes.
"Then I'm glad he's on our side." she said. "So if you haven't found something and nothing's wrong—nothing's wrong, right?" she asked, frowning slightly as if in anticipation of the bad news she seemed to live in dread of hearing.
"Everything's fine," he assured.
"Then what's up?"
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"My head doesn't hurt as bad," she replied, opening her eye to look at him. "Why?"
"We were wondering," he said. "Are you hungry?"
"Blech," was her reply, complete with grimace. "Don't talk about food, please. I'm still sort of nauseous, and I don't think you'd appreciate it if I threw up on you."
"Not particularly, no," he dryly agreed. "You sure you don't want anything? Shinomori'd probably give you some of his green tea if I made him."
Tokio laughed a little.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine," she returned. "Poor Shinomori-san."
"Like not drinking it for one day'll kill him," Saitou muttered with a sneer, and Tokio chuckled.
"You're a mean, evil man," she replied with a sigh, turning over so she was on her back now and could see him comfortably.
And that was when he remembered last night's conversation. Well, sort of—he had been mostly drunk at the time, but he remembered the gist of it. He thought.
"I resent that, you know," he said with a frown.
"Resent what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and looking very amused.
"Being called mean."
She pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"Well, all right," she said after a moment. "You aren't mean. But you're definitely not the nicest person I know. That would have to be Himura-san."
The mention of the red-haired man had Saitou's frown deepening.
"And just what is so great about Himura?" he demanded.
"Nothing," Tokio replied with a negligent shrug. "He's just a very nice man."
He glared at her.
"What's the deal with you and Himura, anyway?"
"'Deal'?"
"Yeah—you listen to him and not me."
She smirked at him.
"He asks me nicely—you order me around. Now if you were to ask me to do things nicely, I might be more willing to cooperate in a manner that suits you."
He glared at her for several moments in silence.
"You know I'm right," she said after a pause.
"Oh shut up," he muttered, glare deepening.
"You see? That's what I'm talking about," she said, pointing at him.
"Fine—please shut up," Saitou snapped, and Tokio laughed.
"Not quite what I had in mind, but it's a start," she replied, still smiling.
"He said you provided him a kindness—what 'kindness' was he talking about?"
"Well apparently, there's some history between him and Tomoe-san," she said, moving around so that she was sitting up a little. "And I sort of helped him avoid her when she was here the first day. I take it the history has a disappointing end, if Enishi's reaction is anything to go by. Then again, Enishi's a little neurotic and he overreacts to lots of things, so maybe he isn't the best barometer."
"You didn't ask?" Saitou raised an eyebrow.
Tokio shrugged.
"It's none of my business. If Himura-san wants to tell me that's fine, but if he doesn't mention it, I won't either." She sent him a speculative look. "Why don't you know? Don't you work with him?"
Saitou snorted.
"I don't care about Himura's personal life," he muttered. "He can have his little secrets—not like I give a damn."
"Then why the interest?"
He glared at her, and she wisely decided to drop the topic, though not before she realized he was probably a little jealous that she'd struck up such a quick and friendly rapport with Kenshin.
Which made her all happy inside.
"Getting back to your perception of me," Saitou said, "I discovered last night that you think I'm mean to you."
"Well you are," she said, and his jaw tightened.
"The hell I am," he shot back. "I walked you to the train station last night, I helped you to the toilet and helped you clean up after you'd thrown up and I came in here to see how you were doing. If I wanted to be mean to you, I'd have left your drunk ass at The Gutter Ball and wouldn't have been so attentive this morning."
"Yes, that would have been quite mean-spirited of you," she agreed. "I suppose you're not as bad as I thought you were."
His eyes widened and he stared at her in shock.
"What?" he demanded, and Tokio smiled and reached out and patted his arm in a comforting manner.
"Now now, Inspector," she said. "You're starting to sound like Enishi."
"W—He's worse than I am!" Saitou yelled, incredulous and a little pissed by the comparison. "He tried to whack Himura's head off his shoulders!"
"No, Enishi's just a little disturbed," Tokio corrected. She absently rubbed the back of her neck. "I guess I should have used my jacket as a pillow," she commented idly.
"Sit up," he ordered.
She sent him a "What-did-we-JUST-talk-about?" look, and he rolled his eyes.
"Would you please sit up Tokio?" he asked through gritted teeth, and she smiled sweetly.
"Absolutely Saitou-san," she replied, and sat up.
He scooted closer and took hold of the back of her neck and started massaging the muscles there, and Tokio immediately let out a groan of pleasure and relaxed, leaning forward so that her forehead rested against his shoulder.
"I changed my mind—you're the nicest man on the planet, and may the gods strike me dead if I ever say otherwise," she murmured, and he smirked.
"Better than Himura?" he asked.
"Much nicer than Himura-san," she said, and he frowned.
"I said better," he said.
"And I said nicer, not better."
His frown deepened a little, and then he decided to hell with it.
They sat like that for a long time, Saitou working on her neck and the base of her skull, and Tokio occasionally groaning and repeating that he was the nicest man on the planet. It occurred to him that if anyone should happen by when she was groaning, the sound could be grievously misconstrued. It also occurred to him that he didn't particularly care.
Once he deemed her suitably relaxed, he decided it was time to address another little finding from last night.
"Tokio," he said.
"Hm?" She raised her head with difficulty to meet his gaze.
Saitou leaned over and kissed her, and she went from sleepy and relaxed to wide-awake and rigid in the blink of an eye. Which lasted for all of a second, before she kissed him back.
In an absent sort of way, he noticed that she smelled like laundry again, and realized that hadn't been a very weird saké-induced delusion on his part. Mostly, though, he was more interested in kissing her than in why she smelled like laundry instead of some ridiculous flower or another. And he thought she was pretty interested too—at least until she suddenly pulled back and muttered something about being sick.
Before he'd quite realized what had happened, Tokio had left the office and he was on the couch wondering what the hell had just happened. When she came back a few minutes later, he was right where she'd left him and still trying to figure out what had happened.
"What was that?" he asked as she shut the door.
"I told you I was still nauseous," she replied, plopping onto the couch next to him with a sigh, and he sent her a dirty look.
"Thanks," he snarled, and she laughed and leaned her head against his arm.
"I don't mean you made me feel sick, stupid. It was the cigarettes you smoked between now and the last time I saw you."
"Oh," he said after a pause, and she laughed again.
They sat in silence for several minutes and then Tokio quietly asked,
"So I didn't have some crazy dream where you kissed me last night? That actually happened?"
"Yes." Pause. "And actually, if you want to be specific, you kissed me."
Tokio winced.
"I knew getting drunk in front of you was dangerous," she said with a sigh.
"Not as dangerous as being sober," he said with a smirk. "If we'd had that conversation sober, there's a good chance you wouldn't have made it home last night."
Tokio coughed faintly, blushing.
"You know, I don't think this conversation is appropriate for our surroundings," she murmured primly.
"Chicken," he chided.
"Through and through," she shot back, and he snorted.
"All right Acting Director," he said, putting an arm around her. "We'll leave this discussion for a more appropriate time and place."
"Thank you," she said with a quiet sigh.
"I'll call you tonight and we can discuss it then," he continued, and Tokio choked.
"What!"
He raised an eyebrow.
"What? Did you think I was going to let you put it off indefinitely?"
"Well no, but—"
"Then you shouldn't be so surprised."
"But tonight!" she protested.
"Well what's wrong with tonight?" he asked reasonably.
"I'll be home!"
His brow furrowed in confusion.
"Okay you're going to have to explain this to me, because I don't get it," he said finally. "You don't want to talk about it here, and you don't want to talk about it at home either?"
"No!"
"It's not like I'm going to show up at your house, woman."
Tokio made a weird sound in the back of her throat, like a cross between a squeak of surprise and a groan of despair, and jumped away from him to stare at him in horror.
"NO!" she yelled. "NO coming to my house, Saitou Hajime!"
"That's what I said—don't point that thing in my face, it's rude," he snapped, grabbing the offending digit she'd shoved into his face and pushing it gently away.
"You're not coming to my house," Tokio insisted.
"I don't even know where you live, wench," he growled. "Quit being a dimwit, it doesn't suit you."
"You're not—"
"If you say I'm not coming to your house one more time I'll strangle you," he promised, and she sent him a petulant look.
"You're not, right?"
"No, I'm not," he said in exasperation.
Tokio nodded and settled back against him. He waited a few minutes, then asked,
"What time should we have this conversation?"
She promptly groaned.
"You can't be calling me when I'm home!" she whined.
"Well when the hell am I going to call you, woman?" he demanded. "I can't exactly talk to you during the day, since you refuse to discuss it here. That leaves night."
"But I'll be home!"
"Why is that a problem?" he demanded, fully irritated now and not the least bit shy about showing her.
"Because I live with nosy people," she said wearily.
"What nosy people?"
"My parents and my brother."
"Tokio," he said, exasperated. "What are you, twelve? Tell them to mind their own damn business."
Tokio snorted.
"Obviously you don't know what it's like to live with no privacy," she muttered.
"Yeah, actually, I do—it's why I moved out at nineteen."
"You can't call me at home," she argued and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Then I'll call you on your cell phone," he said with exaggerated patience.
"But they'll hear me talking to you!"
"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Fine then—how is this going to work? Because I'm out of ideas, unless you have objections against dinner."
There was a long pause.
"Dinner?" she asked slowly.
"Yes Tokio, dinner. The last meal of the day, which occurs sometime between five and eight—"
"You're being a jerk again," she interrupted.
"I'm entitled to it after allowing myself to get sucked into such a stupid argument," he shot back.
She muttered something that he decided not to pursue, knowing that odds were excellent that it would cause another argument, and likely of the stupid nature, given today's track record.
"Well?" he demanded after a long beat of silence.
"Well what?" she muttered irritably.
"Do you have any objections to dinner or not, damn it?"
"Is that any way to ask a woman to dinner?" she demanded, looking up at him.
"When she's being pigheaded about it it is," he replied, glaring at her.
She sent him a withering look.
"If you don't ask nicely I'll say no," she threatened.
"And if you say no I'll find out where you live and show up at your door tonight," he promised, and she blanched.
"F-fine!" she grumbled, looking down again. "Cheater."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow and stared at the top of her head.
"I said you're a cheater," she replied, bad temper evident in her voice.
"You never said there were any rules," he pointed out. "Which means anything goes."
"You're still a cheater."
"And you're a sore loser."
"Better than being a cheater."
"Tokio…." he said, tone holding warning. "I do not want to get into another stupid argument with you."
She snorted but didn't say anything else, and after a moment, she snuggled into his chest a little more.
"Comfortable?" he asked mildly.
"Yes, though if you were a little squishier you'd make a better pillow. Just a thought."
He had no idea what the proper response to that was, and he was silent for several minutes before he decided on,
"Okay."
They sat in silence for some time, and then Saitou said,
"You do realize that I'm going to have to get up eventually, right?"
There was no response, and when he leaned over slightly to look at her face, he found her asleep. He watched her face for several moments, wondering how he was going to get out of this without both awakening her and catching shit from the other officers, because if he didn't come back soon they were going to come looking for him. As it was, he'd already been gone a really long time, and they were no doubt speculating on the reason for that.
And knowing them, none of it was anything they'd be able to repeat in mixed company.
In the end, Saitou decided he'd rather catch shit from his coworkers than disturb Tokio, since he could always threaten and/or beat them senseless later.
Besides, there were worse spots to be in. And he didn't particularly mind if the other officers thought he'd been banging the acting director in her office for most of the lunch hour—the head of finances already thought he'd done her in the ladies' room.
It'd just add to his general reputation.
Whether that was actually a good thing or not, of course, was up for debate.
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Preview of Chapter 8: Not A Date:
"Are you…talking to yourself?" Kamatari asked slowly.
Tokio stared at the effeminate design director for several beats of silence.
"…Maybe," she said finally, just as slowly.
---
"I don't want to sleep with him," Tokio protested, absently rubbing her knuckles.
"Well why not? He probably wants to sleep with you."
---
"You're a letch, you know that?" she replied.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not that old, you know," he said mildly.
"Lechery knows no age," she informed him.
---
"It takes a lot to terrify me," he assured. "And as long as you never actually kick me in the crotch, we're good."