Special Note: Okay, so before I get started with the normal author's note, can I just say that the people who have reviewed this story are seriously the nicest people ever? Cause seriously, I went back to look over some of the comments and...you guys are too sweet to me. How could I have left you waiting for an update for TWO YEARS? Oh...the shame is real. Anyway, thank you all so much for being the best reviewers ever. The support means a lot.

A/N: Part of this chapter revolves around a scene in Durarara X2 Shou where Izaya and Namie have a short discussion about food. For those who have seen season two, you'll most likely know where the beginning and end of the original scene lies. The main thing you need to know is that I extended the scene so that we have more Izaya/Namie screen time. After all, did anyone else think that those two (Izaya especially) were sidelined a bit?

Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is Durarara.

Warning: This one-shot is...shorter than I personally like to write them but...eh. Best to keep these things simple and to the point. This is a drabble series after all.

Chapter 5

Hot Pot

Izaya Orihara was participating in his ritual of e-mailing his prey through the Dollars chat room again.

Namie Yagari was seated nearby, reading through the e-mails on her computer while making mental sounds of irritation.

"So close," she thought bitterly, glaring at the colorful bars of dialogue appearing one after the other on her screen. "I was so close. How could I have been so...so...foolish!?"

Saika: I had Hot Pot with Setton.

Saika: It was delicious.

Kanra: I swear! You guys have no sense of the seasons!

Kanra: You're only supposed to eat Hot Pot style dishes in the winter!

The former head of Yagari Pharmaceuticals let out another mental sigh. "How could I have made such a rash, idiotic decision based on frivolous emotions that hold absolutely no meaning? Seiji is all that matters. If I'm ever going to be with him, I have to get away from this insufferable baboon-leech on my back.

Namie wasn't sure if baboon-leeches existed, but if anyone fit the description of being both a baboon and a leech, it was her boss.

The week after Namie declared that she would never be able to hate Izaya Orihara again, the man decided to celebrate by calling her realtor to tell him that she was no longer interested in the apartment five blocks down the road then cut a deal for him to rent it out to some poor homeless guy that had been wandering up and down the street for months on end. Obviously there was a bribe involved.

Some would call Izaya's actions here generous and even noble. He did pretty much pay for a homeless guy to live in a luxurious shelter for a couple of months.

But he only did it to make sure Namie wouldn't have anywhere else to go should she regain control of her senses and actually pursue her initial plan to leave.

And to add insult to injury, part of the deal was for the realtor to never contact Namie again or accept any of her calls. She attempted to call other realtors, but they hung up as soon as she revealed her name. Somehow the man had either threatened or bribed them all.

So, Namie's promise not to hate the newly dubbed baboon-leech pretty much ended as soon as it began. The woman was back to square one when it came to Izaya. She wanted to rip her hands through his chest, tear out his heart, and eat it in the most barbaric way possible before chopping him up into bite sized pieces she could consume as leftovers later, perhaps even spread the bit sized bits over some sushi from Russia.

Unfortunately for her, this scenario would never become her reality. The man was her primary source of income and without him around she would quickly find herself homeless, especially since no realtor in all of Shinjuku or Ikebukuro would talk to her.

And so, four months have passed with Namie living in misery because Izaya had basically manipulated her out of the plans she had to live somewhere else. For whatever reason, he wanted her in his sight constantly, making her an unwilling prisoner that happened to get paid.

If they were sleeping together she would have been an unwilling prostitute.

Thankfully, nothing of that sort had happened between them. Letting Izaya kiss her and twist her mind into believing for one minute that she actually cared about him was already bad enough. She was not about to hop in the sack with him. Oh no, she'd burn herself alive first. If her mind even dared to go down the route of entertaining thoughts of the two of them together in such a vile way, she would pour gasoline over herself, light a flame, and burn.

Thinking of it that way, she had a feeling Izaya would have a grand time laughing at her as her skin turned to ash. Perhaps she should just burn him alive instead. Knock out two birds with one stone so to speak.

"Do you have any plans?" The baboon-leech suddenly asked.

"For what?" Namie replied monotonously, still daydreaming about the satisfaction she would get out of her boss engulfed in flames while running through the apartment like a spastic chicken.

Izaya crossed his arms behind his head, his maroon gaze locking on the back of her head as she turned away to look over some file on the desk in front of her. "Thought I'd treat you to some Hot Pot, Shabu-shabu, or maybe some crab. You can choose whatever you want."

"Because your little chat-room friends are having Hot Pot?" Namie asked curtly, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. "If you're looking for someone to soothe your injured vanity then you should try a therapist."

She was still staring at the chat when he moved in his seat, eyes narrowing on her screen at the sight of brightly colored dialogue boxes. "You read that." With a swift movement he sent himself backward in the rolling chair. Raising his gaze he looked directly at her face with an expression of annoyance. "Namie, it wasn't you who happened to tell my sisters about Celty now was it?"

Namie smiled at this. Oh yes. Lately she had discovered that Izaya had a particular distaste for his two younger sisters. While Namie didn't particularly like them either, she held an appreciation for anything that could get under Orihara's skin. After all the stunts he had pulled, it was nice to sometimes get a little payback.

"Who knows," she answered, closing her eyes. "I couldn't really say."

He laughed, the expression of annoyance drifting away as quickly as it had come. "You've turned into a force to be reckoned with, haven't you?"

"Oh, you finally see me as a threat?" Namie wondered, lifting her head slightly in order to meet his gaze head on. "That's good. Maybe if I continue messing with you the way you mess with these little cretins on the internet, I can finally escape this dungeon. After all..."

Izaya raised a brow at her soft chuckling. "Namie-chan, what do you find so humorous all of a sudden?"

"Nothing in particular," Namie answered, her smile twisting into a secretive smirk. "I just discovered something is all."

"And that is?"

"That life goes on even without your involvement," she stated, turning in her seat to fully gauge his reaction to her words. "And no one invited you to have Hot Pot, so I guess you aren't the center of the universe."

She expected Izaya to frown at this or reply with a underhanded comment about Seiji, but instead he just laughed before spinning around in his seat. His body shot up from the chair like a torpedo as he stood with a hand on his hip, staring at the vast city that lay beyond the horizon and at the cars that rolled by on the road far below.

Namie's expression of satisfaction slipped away when she followed his gaze to the sunset.

"All I did was make an observation about how some others spent their days off," he began, "But I think it's about time I started enjoying my own days off. After all, there are potential sparks everywhere."

"Starting up trouble once again I see," Namie muttered, closing the chat window on her computer before returning to her work. "But even in your own game you're just a bystander, Izaya."

The insane broker merely laughed at her again. "That very well may be true, but...the same thing can be said about you Namie. As much as you claim to love your brother, you aren't an active part of his life anymore."

A spark of anger ignited, and the woman knew better than to retaliate to the words Izaya had spoken. He was just baiting her with the comment. Whenever he wanted to get the last word, he used her brother to do it.

More and more she was beginning to understand this man. It wasn't so easy for her to fall for his tricks now.

Even so, she still had to say something.

No one was going to speak ill of her Seiji.

"The reason I'm not part of Seiji's life anymore is because of you and Reyugamine," Namie stated casually without pausing in her work. "And every time I try to put distance between us, Izaya, you manipulate the situation to keep me around." She paused briefly to correct a mistake on the document she was working on and during that time her mind came up with another rebuttal, one that would shut Izaya's ramblings down for the count...or at least she hoped.

"In fact, if you believe me to be so mediocre, then why put so much effort into making sure I can't leave?"

The question created another one of those moments where silence reigned supreme for an ungodly amount of time. Once more Namie was tapping her foot on the carpet in a way that was uncharacteristic of her, even as she continued working diligently on the assignment given to her by the bane of her existence.

In the end, pride is what makes her stay. The truth is that she can quit anytime she wants to. Izaya wouldn't force any of his precious humans to do anything. He may manipulate a situation to where it's more difficult to act the way they wish, but the decision is still there's to make. After all, as much as he may proclaim that he's a god, Izaya was nothing more than a deranged human being whose soul would have to answer for all the deeds he had done in his life.

The point of the matter is that Namie has the freedom to walk out and never come back.

She actually is a free woman.

Pride is her bondage. Pride chains her to this man that she can't stand to be around. Pride won't let him have the last word in any debate, even when she knows fighting with him is a fruitless effort. Izaya Orihara always gets the last word no matter how fiercely she or anyone else attacks him. Shizuo Heiwajima could attest to this fact. Even in their legendary battles that left the city up to its neck in bills for property damage, Izaya will be the one to say that final pun before skipping off into the shadows to prey on his next victim. That's just the kind of man he was.

And the woman she was couldn't accept it, which was why she dedicated herself to doing her job while waiting for him to say that final phrase that would effectively end the conversation with his victory. He would chortle childishly at her enraged expression afterward, then go back to his business as if they hadn't spoken to one another at all.

However, for whatever reason, Namie noticed that the man was deliberately keeping silent. Was he avoiding the question? No, no. That was ridiculous. Namie knew Izaya wasn't the kind of man to avoid talking about anything. The man lived on chattering about anything and everything. No topic was off-limits except for any that involved Shizuo. As much as he loved torturing the blonde meathead, he certainly didn't appear to enjoy talking about him.

So what's going on here?

Namie's brown eyes darted to the time displayed on the bottom right corner of her computer screen when she finally finished typing.

"An hour!" Namie raged inwardly while glaring at the informant. He was still standing by the window with his hand on his hip, eyes locked on the last flicker of light the sun had to offer for the day. Had he been that mesmerized by the sunset to not answer her question or give her even so much as a rude comment as per usual? What the heck was wrong with this man today?

Loudly pressing at the keys of her laptop, Namie completed the last few sentences of the document, saved the file, and sent it over to Izaya's computer as an attachment before starting on another, unaware that her stomach was taking this moment to fill the void of silence in the room.

She was able to type three sentences of the new document before Izaya suddenly reached out, his hand falling over one of hers.

Namie froze at the contact, unable to think past the fact that his skin was touching hers.

Suddenly her face felt warm...too warm.

"Oh God, where's the gasoline," she wondered hopelessly while swallowing the lump in her throat. "What are you doing, Orihara?"

Izaya answered by yanking her up from the chair she was sitting in. In the next second he wrapped his left arm around her waist, simultaneously trapping her right arm in his hold as she did, all without letting go of her other hand. The way he held her was reminiscent of a man about to lead a woman in a waltz during an extravagant ball.

Namie felt the blush on her face darkening at the thought of them waltzing.

This was bad. Definitely, definitely bad.

The bangs of his dark hair hung over his eyes, shielding them from her view, but he was frowning deeply which was almost never a good sign.

"Let's go."

Namie tried to control her expression while her brain went on a torrent of madness fit for someone who hadn't made a business out of kidnapping random people for experimental purposes.

Then again, maybe it was because she had made a business out of kidnapping random people for experimental purposes that she found herself in a panic.

"Something I said must have made him snap," she thought, hating herself for feeling afraid and excited all at the same time. "When he was silent for that hour he was coming up with a plan. A diabolical, horrible, awful, evil, malevolent, condescending, wicked, vindictive, and expertly crafted plan...wait! I would never call Izaya's plans expertly crafted! And furthermore, how do I keep ending up in this man's scrawny arms. Ugh! Wasn't this all supposed to be a one-shot anyway!?"

"You're hungry, Namie," Izaya stated, lifting his gaze so Namie could properly see his eyes again. Now she could see that there was a look of mild annoyance there, almost as if he knew that she'd attempted breaking down the fourth wall when it had only just been reconstructed.

"Huh?" Namie hadn't been able to process his previous statement.

"You're hungry," he said again and as if to solidify this fact, her stomach made a sound of protest.

She tried to respond, but found that the words just weren't coming to her.

"So let's go," he continued, loosening his firm grip around her. "I'll treat you to whatever you want, no strings attached."

Izaya's arm fell away from her waist, but he kept his hand locked around hers, pulling her along toward the door. Namie, shaking out of whatever state of bewilderment she had been in, glared at the back of his head.

"I am perfectly capable of buying food for myself," she stated haughtily, hobbling along.

"Of course you are," Izaya answered, his voice calmer than normal. "By the way, to answer your question earlier, the reason I keep you around is because I like having a companion to share Hot Pot with."

Another blush colored Namie's cheeks at his words, (which were strangely romantic), but she answered indignantly, saying, "I thought you said we could have anything I wanted."

Her boss replied, "You want what I want, Namie-chan." These words were followed by one of his usual devilish smirks.

Namie rolled her eyes, once more surrendering to the whims of the baboon-leech leading her into what would be her doom.

Oh well, at least she could buy that gallon of gasoline she needed while they were out.

A/N: And that ends the chapter. I really hope you guys enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and supporting this work. You guys rock!

Quick Note: That mouthful of a line, the "diabolical, horrible, awful, evil, malevolent, condescending, wicked, vindictive, and expertly crafted plan" line, is actually from another story of mine entitled, "How Zero Ruined Christmas" which is a Code Geass humor fic. I randomly threw it in because...well I needed an excuse to break the fourth wall again...or at the very least, put some cracks in it. Haha!