A Meet Cute. Well, maybe not so cute.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or their likeness.

What happens when you've seen too many shows like Law and Order and Bones? These little scenarios pop into your head.

So I actually wrote the beginning of this awhile back (about 2 or 3 years ago) and decided to expand on it. It could also be that I've been procrastinating on an essay(s) I have to write for a job application, but who knows!

I am not 100% happy with how it turned out but thought I would share it.

"May I help you Detective?" Tokio drawled, leaning her cheek against her fist and leveling her gaze upon the aforementioned Detective.

Saitou for his part smirked, completely unperturbed by her cool tone, "Yare yare, and here I came to invite you out to dinner."

Tokio blinked and Saitou's smirk widened as he had the satisfaction of seeing her confident exterior crumble. It didn't last long though Tokio was after all quick-witted.

"Detective do you make it a habit to ask out your murder suspects?"

"Former," he corrected. "And I only ask out the truly suspicious."

" … you're not well. You do realize that there are online dating sites? There really is no need to scrounge through the most wanted list."

Saitou chuckled, Tokio had been a prime suspect in the murder of a prima ballerina and though she had been cleared there was something about the spunky ballerina that intrigued him.

"Think about it."

"Oh, that's the problem, I can see it clearly. Me, you, a table in between, and poor lighting. Sounds way too much like the interrogation room in which we spent hours." And as a thought occurred to her she quickly added while pointing an accusatory finger, "Don't you dare make that dirty."

The corner of Saitou's mouth twitched and he leaned forward placing his forearms on the table. "Me? Never. But I wouldn't mind knowing what you had in mind."

Tokio opened her mouth and closed it, looked away and refused to make eye contact. "Shut up." The man was thoroughly amused and he didn't bother to hide it. It made such a stark contrast to the dangerous and imposing predator she had faced in the interrogation room. Not that he looked any less dangerous or imposing now, but like this . . . it was just odd.

Tokio finally let out a sigh and said, "I don't want to relive the whole ordeal."

Saitou leaned back in his chair and observed the woman before him. Tokio had every right to be upset; she had been subjected to a grueling interrogation. His boss had been convinced of her guilt; after all she had everything to gain from the deceased's demise and the evidence had been against her. In the end the guilty party had been a disgruntled boyfriend, with yakuza connections.

"I was doing my job."

Tokio glared at the detective, "Your job is to harass innocent women?"

Saitou's only response was to smirk and say, "Let me make it up to you. There's a place near by that Okita recommends."

"Who is this Okita? Your imaginary friend?" Tokio snapped without thinking. She would have been appalled at her poor manners if Saitou wasn't thoroughly enjoying himself.

That didn't excuse her behavior though and Tokio gnawed on the inside of her cheek, slightly ashamed. She didn't want to be mean. She was far too reasonable to really blame the man. It was just as he said, he was doing his job, and the odds had been stacked horribly against her. Luckily for her the case had developed away from her but the sourness remained. "Look, I am sure you're a nice –" and Saitou's mouth twitched. Tokio rolled her eyes. "Maybe not nice but good? Decent? Doesn't matter. The point is I want to forget it."

"You won't". Just like that, with no attempt to sooth her. Saitou didn't see the point in giving her a false sense of hope, she had lost a friend and colleague. To say nothing of being treated as the murderer.

"And that's why you're not nice."

He shrugged. "I don't pretend to be."

Tokio stared at the man; he couldn't really think that this course of discussion was helping his cause. They stared at one another for several minutes before Tokio let out a pained groan. "Alright." She rubbed her palms against her eyes. "Dinner. I don't know why I am even agreeing to this." Tokio heard the chair scrape across the floor and looked up.

"Because you're curious."

Tokio heard the laughter in his voice and couldn't help herself from frowning. "Or I'm a masochist." Because really, what other explanation could there be.

Later that day Tokio found herself seated next to the tall detective, not across as she had feared. She looked around at her surroundings the lighting was still poor but that couldn't be helped she supposed and considering that they were at a ramen –ya dinner wasn't likely to last more than an hour. As two steaming bowls of ramen were placed before them she decided that Saitou definitely had an odd sense of humour.

"What?"

Tokio turned towards Saitou, who was holding out a pair of chopsticks to her. "Ramen?"

Saitou smirked and said, "You don't like Ramen?"

Slurping her noodles, "I do but not what I was expecting for a first date."

"Who said this was a date?" Saitou chuckled as Tokio glared at him. "Yare yare, not up to your standards then."

Tokio studied the man. He was irritating, overly confident, snarky, and just all wrong. But on the other hand he was honest, brutally honest and it was refreshing.

As Tokio continued to stare, lost in her thoughts, Saitou's shoulders tensed and he practically growled out his "What" not even looking at her.

Tokio just barely managed to keep from laughing but she couldn't stop from smiling. So he doesn't like being stared at, Tokio thought. "Oh, I was just wondering how much gel you use. It could be a fire hazard."

Turning so that he could face her and clearly not believing her Saitou nonetheless said, "Pomade actually."

" . . . Pomade?" Tokio blinked and a noodle slipped from her chopstick splashing back into the bowl. And this time around Tokio couldn't keep from laughing, "Of course, you wouldn't want to sacrifice texture."

Saitou glared and snapped, "Eat your noodles. They're getting cold."

Tokio focused on her dinner and smiled. He didn't have to answer her or suffer her bad temper but he did. She got the impression that it was courtesy that he extended to very few people. It gave her a lot to think about concerning her odd dinner partner.

Tokio had been right, dinner didn't last more than an hour and soon they were both walking back towards the train station in a comfortable silence. Dinner hadn't been the horrible ordeal Tokio had imagined. It was actually rather nice and so she said, "Next time we should have Italian."

Saitou raised an eyebrow and looked down at the woman at his side. "Italian?" Surprised.

"Yep. I've been craving a Margherita pizza and you owe me. I almost never get to have pizza."

"That was the point of today, to even out the score."

Tokio placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head back in challenge, "You can't expect to smooth over nine hours of interrogation with that." And here Tokio pointed back towards the Ramen-ya.

Saitou smirked, throwing back as good as he got. And that was how they walked back to the station, in a battle of wits.

—–

The End.