Title: The Wolf of Bunkyo Ward

Summary: "Tokio, are you aware of the danger in taunting wild animals?"

Word Count: 619

She found out by accident that Saitou was called "The Wolf of Bunkyo Ward," and when she heard it she laughed because it was so very appropriate.

There was something feral about the man, to be sure. He moved like a prowling animal, always alert and ready. His eyes never stopped moving, and sometimes Tokio imagined that if it had been possible, his ears would have moved to better listen in on what was happening around them, just like a real wolf's might.

But she was sure he wouldn't have been called a wolf if he didn't look like one, and Saitou was as wolf-like as a normal (relatively speaking, you understand) human being could get. He had those odd, amber eyes, to start, so strangely like that yellow-brown most wolves had. And there was a leanness to his build that made her think of a hungry wolf intent on bringing down game. His face was long and thin and rather reminded her of his animal namesake. And when the man smirked…Saitou's sense of humor was quirky, true, but there was also an element of danger to it, and no one was guaranteed to come out unscathed when he teased the Wolf.

So she wholeheartedly approved of his nickname, and told him so:

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Shiori-san," Tokio replied, smiling.

"I really hate it when you two talk about me," he said with a sigh.

"But you're so interesting, Wolf-san," Tokio teased.

He sent her a dry look.

"Really?" he deadpanned. "Tokio, are you aware of the danger in taunting wild animals?"

"Am I going to be bitten?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My oh my—I had no idea you were into the kinky stuff, Tokio," he replied, and smirked when she blushed bright red.

"You are a degenerate," she informed him, and he laughed low in the back of his throat.

"You asked for it," he pointed out.

"I most certainly did not!"

"Sure you did," he threw back carelessly, leaning against the counter and tipping his hat back on his head. "You taunted the Wolf, my dear. I didn't get that nickname by being cuddly."

"Cuddly is the last thing you are," she murmured.

"I wouldn't go that far," he said mildly, and she shot him a withering look.

"Not another word, you," she growled.

"You know, that wasn't half bad," he observed. "Mine's better, though—Wolf, you know." he added, gesturing to himself.

Apparently just in case she had forgotten who exactly was called "the Wolf of Bunkyo Ward."

"Insufferable," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I'm serious, though, about the cuddly thing," he said.

"I'm sure," she said dryly.

"No, really. I could be cuddly."

"As a pit viper."

"Pit vipers aren't cuddly."

"Exactly."

"Now that was uncalled for."

"Consider it pay back for that inappropriate and also uncalled for remark you made."

He laughed and leaned against the counter.

"Come on Chiisai," he said. "Have a sense of humor, huh?"

"I do have a sense of humor," she snapped. "It just isn't morally bankrupt."

"Wolf," he replied, amused.

"Not a real one," she pointed out.

"As close to one in human form as you're going to get, Chiisai," he crooned in that voice that made her blush.

And she knew that he hadn't gotten the nickname for his ability to make her stomach flop over on itself. But she thought it was just as dangerous as anything he did in his official capacity as an officer of the MPD.

Maybe more—she was fairly sure that any criminal he brought in was in less danger of turning into an embarrassed, delighted puddle at the man's feet than she was.