A/N: Just barely scraped this one together in time. Brain-dead is not a good state for editing, ne? Didn't think so.
Disclaimer: I actually try to keep consistent deadlines. Proof enough?
Ever since he had attained an apartment on his own, he found himself rarely taking the time to clean it. A nigh permanent disorder remained in his living environment, despite his inclination to remain strictly organized. None of his folders or files ever came to be misplaced by his own hand and his management of the officers under his command remained concise and methodical. For some time, he had dismissed his inclination to allow untidiness to permeate his living premises as the norm for a "bachelor's quarters."
Harada-san had kindly dispelled the misconception—the relative cleanliness of his abode was in direct correlation with the lack of feminine influence.
While she insisted that she had a perfectly legitimate excuse to turn his apartment into shambles, any attempt he made at ascertaining that particular information was thwarted by a laugh and a shake of her head, which she generally accompanied by tossing some object to the floor.
"Wow, look what I found!"
From his position on the couch, his feet pulled up to avoid the manilla files scattered over the ground, he could not see what she had located in the hall, so his eyes remained trained on his book as he commented dryly, "Simply amazing."
"Why do you have toy handcuffs, of all things?" she asked, coming into view again, deftly sidestepping the litter on the floor.
He blinked, then lifted his eyes from the page to see Harada-san fiddling with the gold handcuffs he had forgotten to place in his bedroom.
"That is not a toy," he informed her slowly, formulating a plan to distract her long enough for him to relieve her of the item she had unearthed.
"Of course it is," she laughed innocently as she fiddled with the cuffs. "How many police officers do you see wandering around with golden handcuffs?"
"Very few," he confessed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. To be strictly accurate, the number in question was in proportion to the amount of blue-haired, fifteen-year-old police officers.
A decisive click ended his attempt at devising a method to take the cuffs away from her. Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed faintly. Where had he left the key?
"Uh, Hiwatari-kun...? How do you get them off?" she queried after a moment of trying to wiggle free of the handcuff nestled snugly around her wrist.
"By using the right key," he responded, turning back to his book as he replaced his glasses.
The couch springs squeaked slightly when she plopped down next to him, still trying to work the handcuff open. "So, are you going to help me get it off?"
"Not until I finish this chapter," he replied, deciding the wait would serve her right and keep her occupied with the puzzle she had managed to create for herself.
"No, you said we'd go get lunch," she argued, jabbing her wrist out to jangle the handcuffs in his face. "I found what I was looking for, so it's time to go."
"Go to lunch after you trashed my apartment?" he asked skeptically, lifting his eyebrow at her.
She grinned impertinently, lowering her arm. "Well, can I help it if you don't have anything fun to do here? I was looking for games or movies or something."
"You know my schedule," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I do not take the time to play."
"Yeah, but I was kind of hoping to find a secret stash of manga or a hidden 3DS."
The look he gave her made her dissolve into a peal of giggles as she tried to amend her words, "Okay, yes, it's unlikely, but you've got to have something fun to do!"
"Oh, I do."
"Eh?" Her eyes widened, seeming to glint with eagerness. "What is it?"
The snap of the handcuff as it closed around his wrist made her blink. With a smirk, he answered her mildly, "Making sure you clean up the mess you made."
She looked around the room at her handiwork, then back at him. "What, now? But I'm hungry!"
Getting to his feet, dragging her arm along with him, he continued to smirk at her.
"You should have thought of that before demolishing my house."
"You're heartless!"
"And you are noisy. Come on."
"I'm not your maid!"
"No, you are my mess maker. Get up."
