Pairing: Satou Miwako/Takagi Wataru
Theme set: Epsilon
Rating: G to PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own it! Gosho Aoyama does!
Even if it was just going through the motions of their stakeout, Takagi was thrilled when she told him to kiss her and “make it hot.”
She was finding more and more that she liked shy and adorable over suave and sophisticated when it came to men.
Miwako’s mother continued to harp on her for not getting to the altar with a suitable man by her age, unaware that her daughter had already made up her mind on who she wanted.
When word got around that there was a suspicious ring on Satou’s fingers, many officers started placing bets on how much longer Takagi’s life was going to last.
Most believed Satou would go for Shiratori; they were all in for a big surprise.
Takagi was like a puppy sometimes—so eager to please; it was quite endearing.
Takagi thought that there was maybe a one in a million chance that he could ever get anywhere near her outside of work, but it seemed that the stars were aligned in his favor.
She tried to tell herself that it was for the best, that it would save potentially thousands of lives…but she couldn’t stop crying at the idea of that bomb going off and history repeating itself.
Satou could be fairly competitive; when he jumped her in a game of checkers and said “King me!” she looked sort of pouty.
Someday he would learn to call her Miwako.
One minute she was chasing the bomber, and the next Takagi was stopping her from shooting the bastard; it all happened so fast.
One of these days they were going to have an uninterrupted moment; Takagi just had to be patient.
Before the wedding, they actually discussed whether or not Miwako should keep her maiden name—if only for work.
Takagi had never been good at taking charge; he had to fight the temptation to pass out before he proposed.
It hurt him to sit and hold her as she cried and begged him to help her forget Matsuda.
For all her strength, sometimes she wanted a shoulder to lean on—so she wheeled her desk chair over and slumped over with her head on Takagi’s conveniently vacant shoulder.
Satou was truly a vision in a wedding gown—now if only she hadn’t just thrown him to the ground, mistaking him for the fleeing murderer.
The first day they were paired, she as the senior detective, she told him to pay attention and learn the ropes; it was some time later when she realized that even though he knew the routines, he had never quite stopped paying attention to her.
They were very different people, and so complemented each other like soul mates should—the opposite sides of the same coin.
The poster was embarrassing, even though both secretly liked the idea of them being dressed as a bride and groom.
All the other officers had become convinced that the ring on Satou’s finger was a talisman and that she just didn’t know what the left ring finger signified; Takagi wasn’t about to tell them that they were only right on one of those counts.
Satou saw Takagi get angry once; she never wanted to see it again.
When Miwako told him she was pregnant, his first reaction was the natural one of shock and elation; his second, slightly less-natural reaction was to make a mental note to increase his life insurance policy to ensure that his wife and unborn child would be taken care of after he was murdered at work.
The heartache of her past sometimes made it hard to focus on the present…but he was helping, and day by day it was getting easier.
Somehow, Wataru had the ability to chase her ghosts away with a few soft-spoken words.
The look on Shiratori’s face said it all, and Takagi realized that he might not get to say one last farewell to his new fiancée.
Every time he did something embarrassing in front of her, he wanted to hide under a rock; strangely, she never seemed to notice.
She slapped him on the back and told him not to worry about money things; he sighed, said nothing, and nursed his aching shoulder.
Satou couldn’t believe that he was safe and well and that he’d escaped from the blaze…or that he had refused to break her father’s handcuffs to do it.
When Satou was upset once, she sat down at her desk and found a small present waiting for her; it didn’t say who it was from, and no one had seen anyone leave it, but a certain someone seemed to be watching her very, very closely…
While out with Satou, Takagi thought he saw some familiar bangs sticking up from behind a book someone was reading; was it Shiratori sitting on that bench?
Satou want to kill the bomber for Matsuda—an eye for an eye; she didn’t hear the footsteps running up behind her.
It was official: after one very special, very magical, very memorable, very warm date, Satou announced that Takagi was never allowed to make tempura again; the fire department agreed.
When he finally worked up the nerve to kiss her, he spent the rest of the day with a spring in his step and a song in his heart.
To say she wasn’t expecting the ring was not quite accurate, but to say she was delighted was a definite understatement.
Despite certain people’s efforts to the contrary, Takagi continued to see Satou.
The bomb was going to go off in mere moments, he was going to die for that hint, and all she could do was watch helplessly and wait for the inevitable.
“You need to be more careful,” she said as she applied disinfectant to his latest injury; he nodded sheepishly and tried not to cringe at the stinging.
It took everything he had to wrench the bars free and escape the blaze, but her father’s handcuffs were intact.
With a sad smile and the press of a cell phone button, she let go of her past and looked towards a possible future with someone else.
There really wasn’t much question of who “wore the pants” in their relationship, but surprises do happen from time to time.
It was sort of funny to sit there, sip at his cup of tea, and watch Miwako’s annoyed expression while her mother harped at her over the phone about her marital status (or lack thereof).
When he realized that he hadn’t lost her to an arranged marriage with Shiratori, Takagi was convinced that someone was looking out for him; he had no way of knowing that the “someone” in question was seven years old and wore glasses.
In his dreams, he could pin her against the wall and kiss her; in reality, he was afraid of what might happen if he even looked at her wrong.
As he dozed off on their wedding night, her body pressed against his, he reflected once more on how unbelievably lucky he truly was.
Satou’s skills behind the wheel were almost magical, the stuff of legends, so he usually just held on for the ride.
He truthfully was more afraid of what the other guys at the office might do to him than he feared Satou herself—those guys were vicious.
Satou yelled at him for not just breaking the old handcuffs, even though he was right about how much she treasured them.
For as lovely as she was, there were no pretenses of being completely feminine; Satou could outeat Takagi and drink him under the table, no problem.
It wasn’t until the first time she called him Wataru—with no honorifics—that he realized that finally…she was his.
PS. This contains references to quite a few different Satou/Takagi cases. Go look ‘em up! Another pairing that needs more love and attention—though I know a lot of people who adore this pairing, it never seems like they get enough attention (although magic_truth is writing them for 30_kisses--go read!)
And with this, I complete my five sentence sets. Some of these will DEFINITELY be expanded into full-length fics, so I hope you'll watch for them as well! Thanks for reading, all! Much love!