The best part of prepping for a sting operation, Dōjima had decided, was the fact she got to go home for lunch, to see what sexy outfits she had in black to pose as a bar waitress ( Read more... )

Dōjima was still a bit sulky that she hadn't been able to go back to Fandom this weekend. Father Juliano -- via her unnamed, unseen contact -- had expressly forbidden it for some reason. A reason that hadn't been shared with her ( Read more... )

In retrospect, the whole thing had started off absolutely fascinating. And it still was, in a morbid sort of way, but after two days of no sleep and less food, it had crossed the line from weird-but-cool to weird-and-creepy ( Read more... )

It had started out like any other Wednesday morning at the STN:J, complete with a missing Dōjima, who hadn't even bothered to show up for last night's Hunt. Sakaki was still sulking, much to Karasuma's amusement and frustration, and morale around the office was decidedly low, Kate's absence hanging over them like a shadow.

( 'Dōjima still isn't here.' 'We can't do anything about it, she's special.' )

One of the more entertaining side-effects of this, Dōjima had decided, was the ability to call into work pretending to be her father and inform the Chief that "Dōjima wouldn't be in today," and not get yelled at or threatened with firing. Not that he could fire her, but it was nice not to need to hear the tirade again ( Read more... )

Dōjima hadn't gone back to work on Wednesday or Thursday after her trip to Disney, instead using the days to get readjusted to the time difference that was Tokyo ( Read more... )

Admittedly, Yurika was not a morning person, but there was really no excuse for an intelligence operative not to notice something like that, regardless of how early in the morning it was ( Read more... )

It was quarter after eleven when Dōjima came sauntering into work, blowing the doorman a kiss as he laughed and made her way up to the fourth floor, singing the latest top-ten hit loudly and mildly off-key.

"Dōjima!" Cue one very short, balding man, planting himself in her path and absolutely fuming "Do you have any idea what time it is ( Read more... )

Dōjima had spent most of the weekend fighting with her phone - with Moshi - before figuring out that the little brat had a phone of her own, and all Dōjima's calls and texts had been routed to that ( Read more... )

It was a beautiful day outside, so Dōjima had propped the door and windows of her room wide-open as she worked. She had two cardboard boxes set out on her bed; one labeled 'Rikku' and the other one 'Reno', and she was currently attempting to see how many packets of ramen she could fit into Reno's box. Any packing of her own was being studiously ( Read more... )