Disclaimer: I don't own Durarara! (only Maemi Shimizu)

Maemi timidly lead her ex-target inside her home. It was small and humble. No one would ever expect the woman to have as much money as she did. She tried to keep the place clean but it wasn't OCD like. With a few pairs of shoes that were unneeded but just built up at the door over time. Or the coat that she hadn't put in the washing machine yet laying on the couch. As well as the 'waiting to be folded' clothes still in the basket.

The floor was a dark mock-mahogany wood that creaked ever so softly when being stepped on. As if squirming uncomfortably. She made sure to keep sweeping the floors because she hated stepping in dust or whatever else that settled on the surface.

Ivory yellow walls painted most of the small house. It contained two bedrooms, though the smaller one was empty, one bathroom, one toilet, a compacted kitchen and a dining/living area. Completely normal.

All the curtains were matching with a soft-beige sort of color. Maemi pull them back so Izaya Orihara might realize she really didn't want to kill him seems the people passing outside would be able to see if she attempted anything. And if he tried too.

'This guy is so weird. Why would he come if he thought his life was in danger? He's strong though and a hard target to hit. Maybe he's already thought this through,' Maemi snapped away from her mind's voice. "Would you like something to drink?" she offered sweetly.

"I'd love to!" his cheer wasn't very convincing.

"Sooo… is that a 'yes' or a 'no'," the girl asked a little confused.

"It's a 'yes'." Orihara answered casually as his hand rested on the dining table, "Although if it's poisoned maybe not."

Maemi gave another dry, "Ha… Ha." She withdrew from the curtains heading for the kitchen. "Tea? Coffee? Juice?" she questioned, back to being kind.

"You know my answer already," he said smoothly hot on her heels.

She took out two plain white mugs, "Coffee it is. You like it black, right?" the brunette asked while retrieving the instant coffee. It wasn't as good as real coffee beans but it did the trick.

"Yep!"

"No sugar?" she was about to put it in instinctively but stopped at the last second.

Orihara noticed the scars that ran around her wrists, "Aha!" he agreed carelessly as if he didn't cite the marked skinned. She withdrew the sugar and placed it in her cup.

Maemi slightly stuck her tongue out in distaste, "Gross," she commented.

"Think what you like. It's good that way." The male's lips were ever still curled.

"You can take a seat, you know," she suggested and pointed her gold flaked eyes through the wall that blocked the dining area.

"Oh, why thank you," he said as he jumped up on the kitchen bench.

"I meant at the dining table," she deadpanned.

"How would I keep an eye on what you put in my coffee then?" Orihara asked 'innocently'.

"Blenches were made for glasses not for asses. Now get off." She ordered curling her lips as well. "You can watch me if you want but either way I'm not going to poison you. I'm sure you know I've never used poison before." The sweetness in her voice faded again slowly.

"Yes, indeed. You rather stab your victims in the eye then slit their throat," he said gesturing with the point of his ringed finger to his neck as he slid off the table.

"Now that's something I can't deny," Maemi mused as she poured hot water in the two cups. She gave them a stir hearing Orihara chuckle with twisted amusement. She gave him his cup and took a sip from her own. "So, I'm guessing you want me to say something about my previous occupation."

"'Previous occupation'? You think you can quit being a murderer just like that?" His gaze was cold though his lips still turned upwards. "I don't think you get it, you're just a kid at heart who never grew up, aren't you? Being this wishy-washy with killing? You really need to commit, Mae-chan." He lightly scolded her. "I get that some jobs aren't in your capabilities, such as killing Shizu-chan and me. You must have been really scared and I don't blame you."

Maemi took another sip of coffee, 'Hmm. Not enough milk.' She thought, letting Orihara taunt away.

"But then there are some humans you ran away from even though you could easily kill them. Having fear and empathy is very rare in a murderer. But eventually, you'll snap and kill in masses again. Your little killing break will end soon and you know it, don't you? Murderers will always be murderers, after all. There's no going back. It's irrefutable." He finished was a smug smirk.

"I agree with some things you're saying," she said coolly.

Orihara somewhat surprised at her mellow behavior, let out a wider smile. This one actually meeting his crimson eyes.

"A murderer will always be a murderer. Very true." The woman paused, "I'll never be able to change my past. And I'll never be able to fully escape from it. But that doesn't mean I have to kill people for the rest of my life. Unlike most 'assassins' I don't feel the urge to kill unless I'm really angry. But even then I hold it back. Anyway. I'm afraid you have read me wrong, Orihara. You see, the reason I killed was to… eliminate the bad guys." She elected her words carefully. "The men and women who didn't deserve to live. That's why I'm what you read as 'wishy-washy'. I simply decide whether or not my target should die or not. Sure, maybe I didn't have a right to do so. And it was arrogant of me to think I could but I did it anyway. And I have some fear but I never let it get in the way of a mission. So, in other words, I didn't kill you ten months ago because I came to the conclusion you didn't deserve death." The girl finished her explanation and sipped on her coffee again. "Any questions, comments?"

Izaya gazed at her, analyzing. He hummed thoughtfully and he took his first sip of the instant coffee. He savored the bitter taste in his mouth before speaking up again. Perhaps it was an excuse to think of what to say or how to word it. "You did do your research on me, right?" he almost laughed.

"Yes, I did."

"You know what I've done to a lot of humans, right? And how these actions are apparently 'socially unacceptable'?"

"Yes."

"And you know how many humans hate me because of it?"

"Hmm… A lot." How could she know the exact number?

Orihara let out a hysterical laugh that went on for an unrealistic amount of time. "…Well," he started still giggling like a maniac. "That's a first…" he broke out into laughter again.

Maemi side glanced awkwardly. Was it really that funny? Or was this just his up front? "Umm-"

The male cut her off, "You know. I can't figure you out, Jane Doe." He smiled even though he was obviously put off by this.

'Jane Doe?' she questioned in her head.

"You see, no matter how much I try. I can't find your true identity." He put his hands up in a shrug. "The best I've done is go back eighteen months, to 'Kokoro Yuto the twenty-one-year-old nobody' who went missing. The case closed because police found a twenty-one-year-old woman who looked like her, dead in Kokoro-chan's apartment with her wrists slit. The humans who examined the body had nothing to go off of. They had none of Kokoro-chan's DNA but the fingerprints in the apartment matched the body's. They even had a burial for the body! Hana Kimura was buried with her killer's current name. How messy!" Orihara ranted excitedly like he was a child explaining his favorite anime. "Your next killing was plenty simpler though. You stuck with the eyeball stabbing and throat slitting. Police think that multiple humans are behind the scenes when really it's just you. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yep," she replied after taking another nip of not-so-milky coffee.

"So casual! You're so cold, Jane-chan." The informant continued to smile.

"So you don't know my real identity?" the woman ignored his comment.

He sighed dramatically, "No. Not yet at least. You cover your tracks well most of the time. So it's quite the challenge."

"I see, well that's good. Seems as how skilled you are at picking up other people's dirt," the young woman said blandly.

Orihara chuckled, "Make no mistake, Jane-chan. I will find out sooner or later." He brought the mug to his lips tasting the bitterness. "Hmm… It's good." He looked down into the steaming cup fondly. Too bad it was time to leave. 'What a waste of a good coffee.' He thought to himself. "Well, see ya, Jane-chan." He put the mug down and headed for the exit.

"Wait just a sec," her gentle voice was back on.

"Hmm?" the male asked twirling back to meet her amber gaze with his lips curved up.

"Umm… You're an information broker and since you know quite a bit about me we need to make a deal," the girl proposed.

"What kind of deal?"

"You can research me all you want. I don't care and nor can I stop you. However, you need to keep that information to yourself."

He peered at her with delight, "What?"

"You heard me. Anyway, if someone asks about me you will not give them any information. If they press on and their money is tempting, you tell me and I'll give you double."

"Hush money, huh?" he sneered, "You think that will work?"

"Doesn't the sound of humans wailing and crying in distress appeal to you? You're in for a heap of shits and giggles. So yes. I think it will." She smirked back at the male who instantly broke out into another laughing fit.

"Okay, Jane-chan," he agreed. "We have a deal."