Important Please Read - General Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.
I intend this to be a series of one-shots but they will all relate to each other, Saitou as a Prosecutor and Tokio as a Defense Attorney. I hope you all enjoy.
I know I said that it would be a series of one-shots, though that will mostly be true I will also have some multi-part arcs. I will do my best to keep the confusion to a minimum.
A very special thanks to the lovely ladies that not only encourage but fuel my obsession. Thank you Misaki for your input and proofreading!
Reviews and comments are always appreciated.
Takagi Tokio always knew what to say and do. She was intelligent, confident, and capable; those traits had served her well and taken her far in her thus short law career. So, how was it that she currently found herself in a situation in which she was a complete foreigner with no able tools to use? There was no handbook for this!
Takagi Tokio was on a date. Tokio had been on plenty of dates (free meals), but this particular date was different. Tokio was starting to feel like a teenager out with her first crush: unsure, shy, awkward, and just at a loss. All of which left her feeling disoriented and struggling to find a foothold.
Tokio took a deep breath and let it out.
"This is ridiculous!"
"What is?"
Damn it! He heard me. Quick, say something about the menu!
"You blackmailing me."
So much for wanting to be civil… Tokio sighed, no point fighting it. She couldn't help it, there was something about the man that made her want to give back as good as she got. Tokio raised her eyes from her menu to look over at the man.
Saitou Hajime was smirking. He was leaning back in his chair with one arm casually laid on the table, his fingers playing with the stem of his wine glass.
"I hardly think taking you out to dinner constitutes blackmail. In fact, where would men be without food to lure women out?"
"…You make us sound like animals. Besides, trading a meal for a plea deal is blackmail."
"We are animals." Saitou purposefully ignored her second statement. As long as it had taken him to get the Defense Attorney to agree to spend an evening with him, he did not want to spend it talking about work.
Tokio didn't like the way his eyes glinted in the light, it reminded her too much of a predator. As though the music playing in the restaurant read her mind, Duran Duran's 'Hungry like the Wolf' began to play. Burning the ground I break from the crowd, I'm on the hunt I'm after you, I smell like I sound. I'm lost and I'm found….
"I'm hungry like the wolf." It was Saitou who said the next line, only half under his breath.
Tokio blinked rapidly as she doubted her ears.
"Are you going to start singing? I can use it as my ringtone for whenever you call."
She would never have expected him to know the song. She couldn't imagine him listening to pop music. Saitou cleared his throat and stood up abruptly, causing her to start.
"Ah! What are you doing?! I was kidding; you'll make a scene. Sit down," Tokio hissed as she leaned over the table and grabbed his coat sleeve. It wasn't that she actually thought he would start singing but she wouldn't put it past him. The man was forever throwing her curve balls.
Saitou merely raised an eyebrow and took hold of the hand that was hanging on to his coat sleeve. Tokio blushed at the intimate gesture.
"I wasn't aware that a visit to the restroom would cause you so much distress."
Tokio narrowed her eyes and yanked her hand forcibly away, crossing them under her breasts.
"Psh, if the waiter comes, I'm going to go ahead and order."
Tokio heard him chuckle and watched him walk off. Alone, Tokio allowed herself to sink into her chair. Where is that waiter! When she was sure no one was looking Tokio placed the hand that Saitou had held against her cheek.
She was startled by the sound of a pink panther ring tone, her personal cell phone. Tokio scrambled for her phone, wondering who was calling.
"Hello?"
"Taka-san…"
"Sagara-san, what have you done this time?" Tokio was regretting having given Sagara Sanosuke her personal number instead of her work number.
"Not me! I swear, this is about somebody else …"
To be continued.