“So you know where I can find Captain Saitoh’s Office?”
Saitoh’s eyes narrowed into menacing slits at Umagoe’s less than civil answer to Takagi’s question. Dangerously close to losing his temper, (An early afternoon bout with Yorimoto weeping…WEEPING for crying out loud…over spilt tea and a ruined report had not helped) the officer was of half a mind to provide the self-absorbed, press hungry little asshat with a complementary (and badly needed) attitude adjustment when she knocked on his office door. Saitoh opened the door.
“Takagi-san,” he began to properly greet the woman, then glanced over her shoulder and saw that Umagoe was gawking at the office entrance, clearly trying to eavesdrop, or be clever, which considering the quality of grey matter between the man’ ears was impossible.
“*This* is who you had your meeting with?” The shorter man taunted as bits of information clicked in his mind, trying to salvage his bruised pride at the expense of another, “you have a lot of nerve, giving me shit over wanting to get good coverage and appreciating the benefits of positive relations.” The insinuation was clear in both the man’s tone and his demeanor, as to what sort of coverage and relations he had on his mind.
(That’s it)
While his general expression remained stoic, Satioh’s eyes were blazing. “Please have a seat, Takagi-san,” he said tightly, motioning to one of the chairs next to his desk. “I have a matter of business to attend to and will be right back.”
Moving with great purpose (and great menace) Saitoh crossed the length of his office easily, bearing down on the shorter officer like a blizzard in winter. Umagoe opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a nervous little snap as the tall rangy officer took hold of the scruff of his uniform and quickly assisted him in moving down the hallway, so quickly in fact that his polished boots were barely skittering along the polished floor.
THREE MINUTES (and a serious attitude adjustment later
Saitoh calmly re-entered his office, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Please accept my apologies,” he said simply as he walked over to his desk and leaned on it, folding his arms across his chest as his looked down at Takagi. His eyes were still snapping with annoyance, but a pleased little smirk started to form as he caught a glimpse of the woman’s own sidearm on her body.
“You’re carrying. Good,” he said rather bluntly, never one to engage in idle chatter. “I’m assuming that it’s standard DOJ issue?”
no subject
Saitoh’s eyes narrowed into menacing slits at Umagoe’s less than civil answer to Takagi’s question. Dangerously close to losing his temper, (An early afternoon bout with Yorimoto weeping…WEEPING for crying out loud…over spilt tea and a ruined report had not helped) the officer was of half a mind to provide the self-absorbed, press hungry little asshat with a complementary (and badly needed) attitude adjustment when she knocked on his office door.
Saitoh opened the door.
“Takagi-san,” he began to properly greet the woman, then glanced over her shoulder and saw that Umagoe was gawking at the office entrance, clearly trying to eavesdrop, or be clever, which considering the quality of grey matter between the man’ ears was impossible.
“*This* is who you had your meeting with?” The shorter man taunted as bits of information clicked in his mind, trying to salvage his bruised pride at the expense of another, “you have a lot of nerve, giving me shit over wanting to get good coverage and appreciating the benefits of positive relations.” The insinuation was clear in both the man’s tone and his demeanor, as to what sort of coverage and relations he had on his mind.
(That’s it)
While his general expression remained stoic, Satioh’s eyes were blazing. “Please have a seat, Takagi-san,” he said tightly, motioning to one of the chairs next to his desk. “I have a matter of business to attend to and will be right back.”
Moving with great purpose (and great menace) Saitoh crossed the length of his office easily, bearing down on the shorter officer like a blizzard in winter. Umagoe opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a nervous little snap as the tall rangy officer took hold of the scruff of his uniform and quickly assisted him in moving down the hallway, so quickly in fact that his polished boots were barely skittering along the polished floor.
THREE MINUTES (and a serious attitude adjustment later
Saitoh calmly re-entered his office, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Please accept my apologies,” he said simply as he walked over to his desk and leaned on it, folding his arms across his chest as his looked down at Takagi. His eyes were still snapping with annoyance, but a pleased little smirk started to form as he caught a glimpse of the woman’s own sidearm on her body.
“You’re carrying. Good,” he said rather bluntly, never one to engage in idle chatter. “I’m assuming that it’s standard DOJ issue?”