A/N: Gift-fic for LeMuffin~ Thank you for your kind reviews! :) I hope you like~ And sorry for the lame title! Couldn't think of anything...

I don't own Durarara.


A Keeper

"Nami-san..."

"What?" The girl in question all but barked at the nervous looking waitress as she wiped sweat off of her brow.

It was dinner rush at the restaurant; and even if she was a superb cook, she was still human, and able to succumb to the stress of trying to do a hundred things at once. She had three sizzling pans to take care of, including a few large, bubbling pots and two cutting boards that had been abandoned as she alternated between her stations.

"Ah... Someone said your steak tastes like-"

Nami's head swerved up, eyes narrowed. "Tastes like what?" She fervently stirred the pots then jumped over to the cutting boards and began chopping up vegetables at a nearly impossible speed.

Meekly gesturing to the half-eaten steak she was holding on a platter, the waitress whispered, "...Shit."

"What are you cursing for?" Nami impatiently tapped the large knife she was holding against the cutting board, "Spit it out, already!"

"I-I did! He said... he said it tastes like shit!" The girl wailed, then abruptly held the plate up in front of her face; whether it was to display the shitty steak or to shield herself from bodily harm, no one could tell.

"... What?" Her grip tightened around the knife, and the waitress' eyes darted down to it nervously.

"He said he wants a new one... and he wants to talk to whoever made it." She whispered, looking at Nami fearfully.

"Oh, does he, now?" Her eyes narrowed and she practically threw the knife down so hard on the cutting board the tip stuck into the surface, and it wobbled as Nami snatched the plate of steak from her hands.

"Where is he?" Nami demanded, untying her stained apron with her vacant hand and ripping it off.

"He's sitting at the bar... he's got a couple drinks in front of him and a hat on. Nami-"

The chef nodded with purpose, an angry look in her eye as she stormed out of the kitchen. The double doors swung open forcefully, banging against the walls. Customers near the kitchen area curiously glanced over. She scanned the room, and her eyes finally settled on the man the waitress had described. Nami strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What do you want, girlie?" He asked, slurring. She could smell the booze coming off from his breath like she was sniffing right out of the bottle, and she made a face.

"I hear you have a problem with your steak." She stated, tapping her foot as she stared the man down.

"Yeah!" The man paused to take a gulp of his drink, then continued, "It tastes like shit!" Nami's eyebrow twitched in irritation as she held the plate out in front of her.

"What was wrong with it?"

"I told you, it tasted like shit!" He exclaimed, and more than a couple people at the bar looked over to see what was going on.

"Well, you ate half of it, so it couldn't have been that bad." She almost growled, hand quivering with her barely constrained annoyance.

"Yeah? So what? And I told that waitress I wanted to speak to the chef-"

"I am the chef." Nami deadpanned, and the man stared at her with alcohol glazed eyes.

"You're the chef? A cute little thing like you!" He bellowed with laughter, "And I thought women were supposed to be masters of the kitchen!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Akane had come out of the kitchen too, and was making a swift hand motion against her throat - which meant, "Don't lose your temper, or you might lose your job with it!"

"Tell you what," The man started, and Nami averted her narrowed gaze back to the man. "Throw out that shitty steak, and go make me a sandwich."

"... What did you say?" No, Nami thought, I must have misheard him. I have better misheard him.

"I said, go make me a sandwich. Even little girls can handle that much, can't they?"

Nami grabbed one of the full glasses of booze laid out in front of him. "I'll ask you to repeat yourself again, sir."

"What? Are you deaf, too? Along with being a horrible cook? Get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich!"

And amidst all the diners and onlookers, the glass of whatever he was drinking was then splashed into his face, courtesy of one pissed off young woman. The man sputtered and grabbed at his eyes, cursing. To add insult to injury, she gave the plate of steak a quick, contemplative glance before shoving it in his face as well.

"Go make yourself a damn sandwich, you bastard!" She mushed the plate into his face, grinding the half eaten steak, along with the sauce onto his features.

She almost regretted it afterwards; Nami could see her boss steaming from the ears a distance away, arms crossed and face red. But the man had been so rude, and she had been a little stressed out, and... well, she didn't really appreciate him telling her to get in the kitchen and make a sandwich. And her steak wasn't shitty, thank you very much!

The man cursed some more, and she brought her attention back from wandering away. "Why, you-" And then the man's hand was flung out, whether to hit her, or - well, hit her. She didn't even have time to flinch at the thought of the oncoming blow. The guy seemed like an asshole, but she didn't think he'd go that far... well, she did sort of humiliate him, but he insulted her! And her steak!

But then a large hand had the man's in their grasp, successfully keeping his hand at bay a mere inch from her face. Most of the restaurant had gone silent now, staring at what was quickly becoming a spectacle. Her eyes trailed from the hand, up the arm, and into Shizuo's face.

"Shizuo-"

"Get out." Shizuo ordered from behind gritted teeth, and something about the way his voice sounded made her think he was thiiis close to losing his temper. The man must have been able to hear it too, because he ripped his fist out of Shizuo's.

He adjusted his hat and wiped at his face with his sleeve, which only served to spread it around further.

"F-fine! I'm never coming back here again! And you can forget about me paying for that shitty steak." He shot her a dirty look, and she had to restrain herself from doing him bodily harm.

He had stormed out, and everyone went back to their meals as the short show ended. "Ah... thanks, Shizuo." She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "That probably would have been super bad if you didn't stop him!"

"Yeah," he muttered, "You alright?" She was about to tell him that she was just fine, but she heard someone clearing their throat angrily from behind her.

"Inoue...!"

Nami rolled her eyes before turning around slowly to look down at her employer. "Yes?"

"What in the world possessed you to do that, huh!"

"But boss, he told me I was a shitty cook! And you and I both know that isn't true!" Her boss grumbled before reluctantly agreeing, and gave her a parting warning as he stalked to his office in the back.

"And yeah, I'm fine." Nami added to Shizuo. "I just couldn't control it, you know?" She sighed and leaned an elbow on the bar. "I was just so angry, and it just kinda... happened."

"I know the feeling," the blond mumbled, and she gave him a curious glance. His brown eyes were clouded for a split second, and she couldn't help how she thought there might be something deeper lying underneath.

"Nami!" Akane called, making her way over, "Is everything okay?"

She waved her hand, "Everything's fine, Akane."

"I can't believe Boss didn't fire you! Especially for doing that..." She made a face. "I can't believe you smashed his face with the steak! So many germs..." she shuddered.

"Inoue! Just because I didn't fire you doesn't mean you can slack off!" Boss called from a distance, poking his head out of the door to his office.

Nami winced and turned to Shizuo. "Well, thanks again. Now it's back to slaving away in a hot, steamy kitchen..." She stated dryly, and gave him a sloppy salute before walking back into the kitchen with Akane on her heels.

"Heiwajima-san was so cool, wasn't he?" Akane cooed once they were back in the kitchen, "I told you he was a keeper!" The waitresses hanging around murmured agreements and nodded.

"How does that make him a keeper...?"

The older woman rolled her eyes, "Because! He was so fast, and c'mon, Nami-" She edged close and bumped shoulders with her, "You know he looked handsome while doing it!"

"Shut up, Akane." She bumped her back and resumed stirring her pots and chopping up ingredients.

"Well, it's true! He was all, 'Get out.'..." Her co-worker imitated in a deep voice that didn't nearly match his. Nami rolled her eyes, but a smile found its way to her lips, anyway.

And moreso to herself than anyone else, she whispered under her breath, "... Yeah. He kinda was, wasn't he?"


A/N: LeMuffin, I hope you liked it, and I hope I didn't butcher Nami too much... and I'm sorry that the story's kinda pointless, haha...

But yeah. I hope you enjoyed it! Everyone else, go check out Shaken, Not Stirred to see of Nami~