Please tell me I'm not the only one in love with the Durarara! soundtrack. It's not the kind of music I usually listen to, but it's very fitting for the series. :)

Anyway, drum roll, second submission that is in fact related to my plant fic. (I've been referring to it as that for some time now and have gotten a few weird looks. Oh well.) This isn't really related to plants in any shape, way or form, though.

Disclaimer: Durarara! is the intellectual property of Narita Ryohgo, it is not this author's intention to make any money with this publication.

Geometric

From the tone of his voice, she guessed he was talking to an irate client at best, and a murderous serial killer at worst. But when she entered his apartment, he was the only one there, not a client in sight. "Oh, Namie!" he said in such a sing-song voice that it made her gnash her teeth together, patiently counting to ten – it was the first day of the week, early in the morning, she couldn't lose her temper (or her job) just yet. "Just in time to bring me some coffee!" He grinned that arrogant grin of his, and through some divine intervention the cups hadn't cracked by the time she slammed one on his desk. (Of course she'd made coffee for herself as well, it was way too early to deal with Izaya at this hour.)

"Was there someone here just now?" she asked, browsing through the mail. Bill, bill, invitation to some party, more bills, another invitation, a flyer to a sushi place that just opened, two more invitations – dear God, what did this guy do in his spare time?

He blinked up to her from his keyboard. "No. Why?"

She didn't look up from her mail sorting and therefore didn't see his confused look. "I heard you talking with someone. You sounded upset."

"Oh. That. No, I wasn't talking to anyone."

This time she did look up. "You mean you talk to yourself?" She didn't mean to sound incredulous, but seeing as this was Izaya she was talking about she should've known better.

He laughed. "Oh, Namie~ Talking to oneself is quite useless if there is no one to hear the brilliance that is Orihara Izaya. Unless you're offering, of course."

She gave him an annoyed look. "If I had to hear your voice more than I do now I'd shove you out of the window. Chair included."

As usual, her death threats didn't do much more than amuse him. She wondered if there was anything out there that truly scared him. "It's nice to hear that you care so much about me, Namie." He went back to what he had been previously working on, until Namie dumped the bills she had received on his desk (and he had the nerve to look sad at the prospect of having to pay them).

All this idle chitchat didn't answer the question of exactly who (or what) he had been talking to, but knowing Izaya she probably wouldn't be able to get the answer out of him anyway. She dropped the issue and completely forgot about it – until she caught him badmouthing his microwave. Apparently, there was still one thing in this world that annoyed Izaya: technology that refused to do what he wanted it to do.

And as if it was a message from lady karma herself (with a push in the right direction from Namie, of course), his television stopped working the next day, the week after that he lost his cell phone and to top it all of his computer caught on fire.

Now she just had to do her best to not look smug whenever she ran into him.

I have this nagging feeling I made some stupid grammatical mistakes in this, but I have no idea where. Any thoughts? I offer chicken soup in return! (Or pocky, if you're vegetarian.)