Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 35 ( Chapter 35 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Tituba

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

Odalisque

Chapter 35

The static on the line was almost unbearable. It seared into his ear and irritated his mind like nothing else. Yet here he was, listening to this static, while his contact managed to put himself on the phone.

Several very annoying seconds later, a slick voice came on the other end of the line.

“Yes?”

“We're ready.”

There was a slight pause and the suddenly, the irritation felt by the caller evaporated. He could practically taste it now…

Victory.

It was what he had been waiting for. What he wanted. It was what he deserved.

“What day?”

“This coming Monday.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is everything going as planned?”

The caller sighed, must he bring this up every time they spoke? “All except for that unfortunate incident with the Kuchiki. No matter, it will be dealt with soon enough.”

“Excellent.” There was a pause. “We will have no further contact until that day. Make sure the girl does what she's supposed to do. I'll handle Kurosaki.”

“Of course.”

The phone clicked shut and the caller sighed in relief. At least the static was gone.

*~*~*

“What are you doing on New Years?” Ichigo asked as he parked his ass directly on the top of Rukia's desk.

She looked up from her papers and chewed on the tip of her pen, diligently thinking. Ichigo brought his hand up and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and she quickly leaned in towards his hand. “Hmm,” she murmured as his thumb brushed over her cheek. “I might have to go to a formal dinner with Byakuya. You know, Kuchiki Family stuff and all that shit.”

Ichigo's face wrinkled immediately and she grinned at his pouting expression, “Or I can tell him I've suddenly caught the pneumonic plague and stay confined in a bedroom with you all night.”

“Excellent!” Ichigo grinned, he leaned down and pressed a short kiss to her waiting lips, “Knew I'd break you sooner or later.”

“Hmm,” she chuckled, “If you knew that means I'm getting predictable. I need to start being a bit more unpredictable.”

Ichigo straightened his spine and grinned, “Does this mean we're going to have desk sex again?”

She shoved him off of her desk with a laugh and got back to her paperwork.

Ichigo merely chuckled and went to his desk, knowing that at some point this day, he'd be underneath her desk, tasting the insides of her thighs, and making her come.

*~*~*

Today.

That's all the letter had said. Orihime had read it over three times just to be sure. She had even held it up to the light to make sure there was no hidden lettering anywhere else. She had looked on the back, on the front, and inside of the envelope to see if there was anything else. Nothing. Nothing but one word.

It sent chills down her spine.

She swallowed and carefully placed the one paper on the refrigerator, next to all of the other letters she had received. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew her role by heart.

She swallowed and nodded. This was what she had been waiting for. It had all come down to this… no, it had all come down to her.

“I am no longer the rook,” she said as she strode into her bathroom and placed her hands on both sides of the sink, staring deeply into her own pool-like eyes.

She stood up as straight as she could and puffed out her chest as far as it would go. Her fair hair was flipped over her shoulder and her chin was held high in the air.

“I am the queen.”

*~*~*

“Hey,” Rukia said as the door to Toshiro and Momo's apartment opened. She stood in the doorway, waiting Chinese food in her hands. Gently, she lifted them to Momo's eyes and offered a half-smile. “House of Wong?”

Momo lifted one corner of her mouth and nodded. “Come on in, Toshiro's at a meeting. He said he'd be back by seven thirty.”

Rukia stepped inside of the large and tasteful apartment, carefully holding the heavy food in her hands. She slowly walked over to the island and put it on the marble counter. She sighed and turned to face her friend.

Momo—while she had certainly looked better—did not seem as gaunt as she had a few days ago. Her face, while still pale, had more color in the cheeks, her eyes had a bit more sparkle, and her lips were not as ghostly white as they were earlier.

“You're looking a bit better,” Rukia said, an optimistic tone in her voice. She pulled out the cartons of food and began to place them on the counter. “Considering…” her voice trailed off, not even daring to mention the reason.

“I know,” she sighed, “You and Toshiro say that every time you see me.”

“But it's true.”

“I know…” Momo whispered, hanging her head a bit. “I just kinda wish that…”

Rukia blinked and paused as she opened the lids to check the contents of the containers. “What do you wish?” She asked, her tone quiet and her eyes probing.

Momo shook her head once, her eyes glazed and staring off into the distance, she raised her head and allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. “It's nothing… I guess I'm just confused, is all.”

“About?”

Momo shuffled into the room and went to the cabinet to grab a few plates. “This whole… thing.”

Rukia nodded wisely and slowly shifted the food from the cartons onto the plates. Ever since Momo's assault she hadn't referred to it directly. She always called it, `the thing' and everyone instantly understood what she meant. No one wanted to bring up that word, even if it was technically correct.

Rukia dished out a heaping pile of lo mien noodles onto a plate and sent a sideways glance over to her best friend. It was true, Momo did look a little bit better, but then again, little was the operative word.

She still had no idea what had happened to her. All she told Rukia—as well as Toshiro, Ichigo, and Renji—was that she remembered being at the party and talking with her fiancé, and then… nothing. The next thing she knew she was inside of a room, naked, bruised, sore, and frightened.

“I've been better,” she muttered, “But… you know, in a way it's kind of a relief.”

Rukia frowned and picked up a stray noodle that was dangling over the edge of the plate. “Relief? How so?”

Momo let a small, wry, and watery smile come over her face. “I don't remember any of it Rukia.” She paused and swallowed hard, looking down at the countertop, “Any of it. If I have to be honest, it just kind of feels like I had really r-rough s-sex.” Her voice broke softly and Rukia looked at her with apprehension.

The two women in the room seemed frozen.

Momo was the first to move. She shook her head, stilling any tears that might be accumulating in her eyes, “No… it's alright. I think… I think it would be worse if I actually did remember.”

“Momo…”

She looked up and offered a miniscule smile. “But Toshiro's been great. He's been with me to the police station, to the doctor, and… and… he's talked to Sosuke about giving me a few days off.”

Rukia's head stiffened at the sound of the name `Sosuke' and—for some reason—a small shiver ran up her spine.

“You mean Mr. Aizen?” Rukia asked quietly.

Her friends' head lifted slightly and a small blush ran over her cheeks. “Y-Yes… I mean Mr. Aizen. It's just… that one time when we had lunch he asked me to call him, ah, Sosuke.”

Rukia's eyebrows pulled themselves together and downward but she nodded nonetheless.

Anytime that a business associate in a position higher than me has asked me to call them by their first name I refuse, she thought inwardly.

She shrugged softly and brought the plates over to the table. Maybe Momo just wasn't aware of the way the hierarchy worked. After all, Rukia was the only one she had really worked around for several years and even at work they were completely relaxed with each other.

“Oh…” Rukia murmured in response to Momo's comment, something still not sitting right inside of her.

Momo came and sat down at the table, “But I realized… it's not up to me anymore.”

“Meaning?” Rukia swirled some noodles around her fork and popped them into her mouth, chewing quietly so as not to miss a word.

“Meaning,” she sighed and ate a piece of freshly steamed broccoli. “It's out of my hands. I'm going to trust Detective Abarai to figure out what happened to me and… and I'm going to keep on living.” She allowed a small smile to come onto her face. “I'm going to get married, I'm going to live happily ever after with Toshiro, and I'm going to have a family.” Her smile became wider and her eyes became slightly dazed, “Fat babies… that's what I want.”

Rukia paused mid-chew as she listened to what her friend was saying.

“I'm going to keep on living…”

What a noble thing to say. Momo had been assaulted, she had been battered and bruised, and she couldn't even remember anything past getting to that party… and yet she wanted to put it all behind her and get on with her life. Rukia couldn't even imagine herself being that strong.

A smile formed on Rukia's pink lips and she reached a hand over to place it on top of Momo's. The young woman didn't even flinch.

Momo looked up at Rukia and frowned, chewing softly on her food. “What is it?” She asked, swallowing softly.

Rukia squeezed her palm and grinned, “Momo Hinamori… soon to be Momo Hitsugaya,” she added with a smile. “You are my hero.”

Momo gasped and her eyes watered slightly. She flipped her hand over and gently squeezed Rukia's hand.

“I love you Rukia.” She whispered, a few streaks of salty wetness running down her cheeks.

Rukia placed her fork down and reached over to catch the tears on her best friend's face. “I love you too Momo.”

Their hands tightened until it was almost painful but neither one of them pulled away.

Momo let out a wet and weak chuckle and shook her head, “If Toshiro and Ichigo could hear us now…”

Rukia's eyes twinkled softly and she shook her head, “I don't know about Toshiro but if Ichigo could hear us now he'd probably want to join in on the action.”

This time, when Momo laughed, it wasn't the pained chuckle Rukia had become used to hearing. Her chest quickly heaved up and down in a happy giggle and she hastily brought a hand out to cover her mouth.

Rukia beamed at the sound and quickly squeezed Momo's other hand twice.

“You know,” Momo said, traces of her renewing giggle still in her voice, “I actually don't doubt that.”

“That scares me a bit.”

“Hey, you're the one sleeping with him.”

Hand in hand, shooting tiny quips back and forth, the two ate their dinner, remembering what it truly meant to be the best of friends.

*~*~*

Ichigo was sitting in his office, eating a chilled lunch, and trying to review a few of the final touches that needed to be done so the merger could be complete.

It's only a month away. He thought casually, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair.

On February the first I'll no longer have Rukia in my office. She'll be back to take over Mr. Ukitake's position. I'll be alone in here. He sighed and took another bite of his sandwich. Damn, no more desk sex.

Okay, he reasoned, it was a bit more than that. He'd miss the midget once she was gone and working in the adjacent building. Granted, they'd still have their arrangement in place, they'd still each other as often as they could, and they'd still have hot, mind-blowing sex whenever they wanted. Still, he doubted it would be exactly the same.

After all, he wouldn't be able to just take her home after work, he'd have to wait for her to finish all of her things. Which, knowing her, would take her long into the evening hours.

Plus, if she's going to be the head of legal that means she'll be even more neurotic about her work than usual. She'll probably be at the office six days a week, working until eight. He groaned at the thought. Who'll be there to stop her from working all the time if not me?

He scribbled his name on a couple of papers and pushed them to the sides of his desk. Slowly, he leaned back into his chair and gazed at the ceiling, not really seeing anything. He wondered if he'd really be able to see her as often as he did now. Well, that and he hoped that she'd want to see him just as much.

She will. The sex is way too good.

He shook his head and told himself to stop thinking about Rukia. It was just so hard, the damn vixen was in his mind twenty four seven. When he was with her, when he was without her, when he was at work, when he was at home, when he was just alone in his apartment… he just always seemed to think about her.

His reverie was interrupted with a sharp, double knock on the door.

He jerked upwards into his chair and swallowed, maybe Rukia had decided to come back early from her lunch. He frowned though. Rukia wouldn't have knocked. “Come in.” He called, his brow low.

The door opened a few inches and Sosuke Aizen slowly made his way over the threshold. “Hello,” his charming voice said gently, “Do you have a moment?”

Ichigo hurriedly shoved his lunch to the side and sat up straighter in his seat. “Of course,” he said, standing up and coming over to the other side of his desk, he strode forward and extended his hand to his boss. “Mr. Aizen, I didn't know you were coming by today.”

“Ah,” he said with a gentle smile. He extended his hand as well and, after a moment, shook Ichigo's with a tight grip. “But neither did I, so I guess that makes us rather even.”

“Of course sir,” Ichigo said, doing the mandatory two pumps before releasing his boss's hand.

“Ichigo,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose with a firm finger, “I wanted to talk to you about some last-minute details that concern the merger.”

“Certainly,” Ichigo looked around for an extra chair but realized after a moment that none but his and Rukia's chairs were in the office. “Ah, take my seat.”

“Oh no,” Mr. Aizen shook his head, brushing the comment off congenially, “You go ahead and sit, I'll be very brief.”

“Alright then,” Ichigo muttered, moving back and taking his own seat. Even though it felt a bit weird to sit while his boss was still standing he was following orders. “What do you need to talk to me about?”

Mr. Aizen grinned and held up a small file containing a few papers, it had been resting in his second hand while his first had shook Ichigo's. “Just some things for you to sign. As head lawyer on this merger agreement I need you to look over the final touches.”

Something inside of Ichigo stirred warily but he pushed it away. “Actually sir,” he began, allowing a small smirk to converge on his face, “Ru—Ms. Kuchiki's more the head lawyer. We work together sure but she can be pretty authoritative when she wants to.”

Especially in the bedroom.

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Aizen muttered, coughing slightly and setting about fifteen papers on Ichigo's desk, “I have heard that about her. Now, if you'll just sign here.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow slightly. He pulled the edges of the sheets into his fingers and gently thumbed through them. He frowned softly and asked, “Shouldn't I read them?”

Mr. Aizen chuckled happily and shook his head, “Only if you want to read a rather long and boring order for the amount of pens, notepads, staplers, desk chairs, and therapeutic stress balls the entire office needs.”

“In that case,” Ichigo muttered, scrawling his signature along the line of the last page, “I'll just get on with it.” He propped his elbow on the table and handed the bunch of papers to his boss. He glanced slightly at them and attempted to read a few of the words but was stopped immediately when the sheets were whisked out of his hands.

“Excellent,” Mr. Aizen said, stuffing the sheets of paper back into the manila folder. “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Kurosaki. Now, if you could only get Ms. Kuchiki to sign it I would be extremely grateful.” He shoved the entire manila envelope into his hands and shrugged, “She doesn't have to read it either since it's just an order but I'd like you to get her to do it anyway.” He straightened and grinned, leaving Ichigo holding the folder. “That is one of the last things I need to do before we get this show on the road. But I do need it back… today preferably.”

“Fine by me,” Ichigo said as he nodded and grinned at his boss, pushing the file into his briefcase so he wouldn't forget to make Rukia sign it. His eyes flickered over to her empty desk and, for a moment, he wished she was here. She knew better than anyone how to fill empty silences with meaningless conversation. Ichigo, on the other hand, really didn't have the tact for that.

He cleared his throat and looked back up at his boss, whose eyes were staring out of the massive window behind Ichigo's desk, saying nothing.

“Do you want to wait until Rukia comes back from lunch?” He asked, erasing the awkward silence quickly, “I mean, she'll be here in about twenty minutes. She can sign those papers too.”

“Oh no,” Mr. Aizen said, shaking his salt-and-pepper head only once, “Just tell her what they are and that she can sign them and everything will be perfectly fine.”

“Ah,” Ichigo muttered, feeling the uncomfortable tension growing inside of the room once again. Mr. Aizen was simply standing in the center of the room, staring out the window, and Ichigo was sitting in his desk, painfully aware of the silence and absentmindedly removing nonexistent pieces of lint from his clothing. They stayed like that for nearly two whole minutes before Mr. Aizen turned back to Ichigo and smiled.

“Mr. Kurosaki… I'm happy that you've done this work to my satisfaction. Our plans are filling out very nicely.”

Ichigo blinked and fought to keep a frown off of his face, “Well… thank you sir. But it wasn't just me, it was Rukia too.”

“Yes…” he sighed, smiling down at him happily, “I just want you to know that you will amply rewarded.”

Okay… weird.

“Well, thank you sir.” Ichigo muttered, that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach intensifying as he watched a grin curl around Mr. Aizen's lips.

“You're welcome…” he murmured, he sighed deep in his throat before turning around towards Ichigo and nodding once. “Alright then, I'll be off.”

“Okay,” Ichigo stood from his seat and extended his hand over his desk. Mr. Aizen took it and pumped it twice before coolly releasing it. “You have a good day sir.”

Mr. Aizen only grinned and nodded, “You have one as well, Ichigo.” He strode to the door and quickly jerked it open. He was almost ready to leave when he jerked back and coughed lightly in his throat. Ichigo craned his neck to see around his rather bulky boss. Was it Rukia on the other side of that door?

“Oh, hello Ms. Inoue.”

Holy… shit.

“Hello Mr. Aizen, sir.” She said sweetly, her mawkish voice permeating the length of the room and resonating in Ichigo's ears. His initial reaction—which was, of course, to jump underneath of his desk and hide—was shoved down deep inside of him as he tried to keep his cool. He cringed and prayed to whatever god was out there that Inoue wasn't here to talk to him.

“How are you today Ms. Inoue?” He asked kindly, his voice more fatherly than anything business-like.

“I'm doing alright sir…” she muttered hesitantly, then brought her hand up to her cheek and pressed down quickly, squishing the skin below her fingers. “Well… actually, no… not so well.”

“Really?” He frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Why?”

Ichigo winced as she giggled pathetically and then shook her head, “Last weekend I bought a new puppy and last night he accidentally ate some of my dinner. This morning he was weak and sick. I called the vet but he told me that it would pass. But I'm so worried about my little baby.”

Even though his back was turned to him, Ichigo could practically picture Mr. Aizen's eyebrows going up.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head from side to side. “Oh my, I know how you feel… my niece recently received a new dog and it got sick one day, she was so worried she couldn't even concentrate enough to go to school.”

Inoue shifted from one foot to the next and coughed again. “Actually, that's what I was coming to see Mr. Kurosaki about.”

Ichigo blinked twice and stood from his desk, still fighting the urge to climb under it or jump out of the window, whichever was more effective. But he couldn't do either of those things right now. Not when his boss was standing only a few feet away, not when Rukia was downstairs in the lunchroom, and definitely not while suicide was still technically illegal. No matter what the situation, no matter how much he didn't want to be in Inoue's presence, he had to deal with it, if only for the sake of his job.

And his sex life.

“What did you need to see me about, Inoue?” He cursed himself for forgetting the `Ms.' and made a mental note to remember it next time.

He watched as Inoue's head popped up over Mr. Aizen's shoulder and looked at him hopefully. “Mr. Kurosaki, good, I was hoping you'd be here.”

He forced a smile onto his face and swallowed, “Oh, what for?”

Inoue looked sheepishly down to her shoes and dug one of her toes into the carpet. Her already fever-enhanced face became even redder as she blushed under his gaze. But then again, what else was new?

“I was wondering, that is, I was hoping,” she amended swiftly, “That you might be able to take me home… to see my puppy, of course.”

Hell no.

“Gee, Inoue,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders and bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Damn, he forgot the `Ms.' again, “I've got a ton of work to do today and I just… I don't think I could spare a—”

“Mr. Kurosaki,” Inoue cut in quickly, stopping him just as he was about to shoot her down like a low flying duck during hunting season. “I—I understand w-why you don't want to escort me home. I do… I just…” she lifted her doe brown eyes to his and, for a second, Ichigo could swear that he saw something resembling tears dusting the rims. She swallowed hard and continued, “I'd really like to go home and if you'd permit me, I'd like to… apologize.”

“Apologize?” Mr. Aizen laughed, “Whatever for? I highly doubt that you'd do anything that would warrant an apology Ms. Inoue.”

Wanna bet?

She prettily blushed and looked away, “I—I know, Mr. Aizen, sir, but I do think that I owe Mr. Kurosaki an apology. But… I just thought that… I mean, there's my dog and if he took me home I'd be able to explain things to him.” She paused for a moment and let loose a dainty pout.

Oh God… don't tell me he's actually buying this crap. Ichigo tilted his head to the side and examined the rather pitiful looking Orihime Inoue. Her head was bent down, her cheeks and nose was red, as if she'd been worriedly crying, her nose looked runny, and her eyes were filled with fear. She really did look worried… and that expression on her face made her look, oh what was the word for it… ugh, she actually looked sincere.

Wait a second… am I actually buying this crap?

“Well, if you're that concerned about your new dog and you'd like to talk to Mr. Kurosaki,” Mr. Aizen shrugged, patting Inoue fondly on the shoulder, “Kill two birds with one stone I always say!”

Ichigo had to fight to keep himself from blanching. Did his boss just order him to take Inoue home just so they could talk? Could he actually do that? Was he trying to play counselor or something? Did he want Ichigo to get molested along the way?

“Do you think you could Mr. Kurosaki?” He asked, turning around and facing the still reeling man.

“Ah… ah…” he muttered, furiously rubbing the skin on the back of his neck. “I—I don't know if… I mean, Rukia will—”

“Don't worry,” Mr. Aizen said breezily, “I have a job for Ms. Kuchiki to do today; you'll have nothing to worry about. Take Ms. Inoue home and then you can take the rest of the day off; after all, it is Friday.”

“Ah—”

“That sounds perfect,” Inoue cried, wiping her nose with a spare tissue. He wondered if she stored them in her cleavage.

“But—”

“I'll see you later then, Mr. Kurosaki,” Mr. Aizen said cheerfully, moving towards the exit. “Thank you for taking Ms. Inoue home and don't worry, I'll tell Ms. Kuchiki where you went.”

Mr. Aizen nodded once to Ichigo, turned towards the door, brushed past Inoue, and disappeared down the hallway. Ichigo was left standing alone in his office, staring blankly at the spot that his boss had just vacated, while his worst nightmare stood in the doorway, beaming at him.

What the hell just happened?

*~*~*

Rukia hummed a small tune as she walked back towards her office. Her footsteps were light as she gently clicked her heels on the soft carpet beneath her feet.

The smile on her face was obvious as she passed people in the halls. She nodded to them, greeted them, and even remembered to ask one particular woman how her newborn niece was doing. Each one of them, in turn, smiled right back and told her to have a pleasant day.

Oh and what a pleasant day it was.

She quickly opened the door to her office and stepped inside. “Ichigo, I'm back from—”

Her sentence was abruptly cut short and the room fell into complete silence. Her eyes swept from one corner of the office to the other, still not seeing that familiar orange head of hair, damnable smirk, and beautiful body.

“Ichigo?” She called out, just to be sure that he wasn't snickering behind the door just waiting to ambush her when she came in.

Childish, I guess, but still fun. She told herself as she looked dutifully behind the door.

He wasn't there. She blinked twice and slowly moved a bit further into the office. Her feet—without provocation from her brain—immediately took her to his desk. It still had several papers on the top of it, the computer was hibernating, and there were even a few crumbs from his lunch still scattered about. She frowned and absentmindedly brushed them off the veneer top. Her eyes scanned the papers and her frown became even more pronounced.

Did he have to go somewhere today? She asked herself as she came back to her own desk and began to search for something—anything—that would tell her where he was. A note, an email, a voicemail… she pushed aside everything on her desk, looked in her inbox, and even checked both of her phones… nothing.

Swallowing hard, she got up from her chair and opened the door to their collective office. She peered outside and quickly looked over to the secretary's chair. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed that the woman sitting at the desk was not, in fact, her mortal enemy.

Mortal enemy sounds childish, she chided herself quietly. Grow up.

Rukia walked towards the large desk slowly, not wanting to seem as though she was in a specific hurry, and examined the young woman sitting behind it.

She was young, probably even younger than Rukia, with long dark hair that fell in a thick braid across her back. Two more strands fell near her ears to frame her heart-shaped face. She was wearing a simple black skirt and a neatly pressed white blouse. Her feminine attributes—Rukia noticed rather quickly—were slightly smaller than Inoue's. That thought alone made Rukia—for some odd reason—feel a bit better.

“Excuse me,” she said, coming up to the desk and placing her hands on the surface. The woman looked up and blinked softly. By the way she was looking at her, Rukia could tell that this woman had been trained, much like herself, to conceal her emotions from a very young age. Her lips were in a flat line, her chocolate eyes, which would have been beautiful if she had smiled, were expressionless, and her nose barely twitched enough to signify breathing.

“May I help you?” She asked, her voice melodious but oddly still monotone.

Rukia nodded, thinking to herself that she liked this girl much more than the ever-chipper, psychotic Inoue. “I was wondering if you knew the whereabouts of Ichigo Kurosaki?” She tried to disguise the slight worry in her voice for something that sounded like annoyance but she didn't think she did a very good job. It was hard trying not to care about the orange-headed buffoon.

The woman looked down at her computer screen and then up at Rukia, her eyes taking on the expression of being away in a far off land. Finally, after what seemed like ages, she snapped back to Rukia and nodded, “Yes, I believe I do. About twenty minutes ago he escorted Ms. Orihime Inoue to her house. He also took the rest of the day off as per the suggestion of Mr. Sosuke Aizen.”

“He what?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Although strangely enough, she wasn't even sure if she was talking about Ichigo or about what Mr. Aizen had done.

The woman nodded and then indicated to this desk, “The woman who works here, he took her home, and he also took the rest of the day off.”

Rukia had to fight hard to keep her jaw from slipping away from the rest of her mouth or from asking the new woman behind the desk to repeat herself… again.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice stunned.

The woman nodded once and turned back to writing an efficient looking memo.

Rukia turned and woozily wobbled back in the direction of her office. Her mind was spinning, her stomach was churning, but more important than that, her heart was wrenching inside of her chest.

What the hell is going on?!

*~*~*

Ichigo sat in the driver's seat of his Benz, gripping the wheel as tightly as possibly, eyes staring forward and practically plastered on the road, and trying not to breathe.

Orihime Inoue was now sitting in the passenger's seat of his precious car.

That seat is reserved for Rukia, he thought sourly as he pressed his foot onto the brake and drove slowly towards a light.

Neither one of them was speaking. Inoue was sitting in the now-infected seat, legs folded neatly, and eyes cast downward. Occasionally, she would look up at Ichigo and then shoot her eyes back down to the car's carpet. Ichigo wanted to scream. He couldn't believe that he was in his own car, driving his practical stalker home because she had a little dog to take care of.

“Mr. Kurosaki…”

Oh Christ, there was that voice. So high and sugary; it didn't command his attention like Rukia's did, it just made him want to cringe. The light changed and he accelerated the car. His foot was steady on the pedal as he drove.

“I'm sorry.”

Ichigo's foot slipped on the pedal and the car lurched forward a bit. He brought himself back to the present and allowed his frown to deepen by about three inches. A quick retort was swallowed on his tongue and he just focused on driving. If she wanted to speak he'd let her. He just didn't want to talk to her in return.

“I—I know you might think I've been a bit persistent—”

More like psychotic.

“But I want you to know that I'm sorry for the way I've acted. You know, always trying to go out with you,” she chuckled low in her throat and sniffled, “But I guess I've just been in love with you ever since you kissed me at the Christmas party last year.”

“Inoue,” he growled, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. “I didn't mean to do that. You know I didn't.”

“Yes,” she whispered softly, “I know and I'm sorry. I guess I… I just… I'd like to be friends with you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

He nearly choked on air, “Friends?”

“Yes,” she blushed, looking down at the folded hands on her lap, “I realize it's a lot to ask for but, well, we're going to be working with each other for a while and I just think that it would be better to get rid of all the negative stuff between us.”

“Inoue—”

“Please, Mr. Kurosaki,” she whispered softly, “I… I know th-that you're already taken.”

His head whipped over towards hers and he narrowed his eyes. “What?” He demanded, his tone deadly. He was no longer in the mood to placate Inoue. She needed to tell him what she knew now or else they'd never be able to be `friends,' like she said. He snorted inwardly, not that he'd ever consider the idea, of course.

“You and Ms. Kuchiki,” she whispered, “I know about… you two.” A crimson blush came onto her face and she swallowed heavily, looking away, “Sometimes you two aren't as quiet as you think.”

The blood rushed away from Ichigo's face.

“But I haven't told anyone!” She squealed, suddenly twisting her entire body towards him. He cringed when he felt her overly-large breasts pressing up against his arm. His arm recoiled immediately and shuddered. She blinked her doe-brown eyes and pulled her lips into a pout, “See, Mr. Kurosaki, I want you to know that you can trust me. I want you to know that I'll never tell, if it means that we can be friends.”

Why is this happening to me?

Ichigo looked out the window and blinked when he realized he was now on the street that Inoue had mentioned. “Is this where you live?” He deadpanned.

She looked outside the window and bit her bottom lip. “Yes… it is.” She turned sadly to him and pulled her eyes down towards the gearshift. He pushed the car into park on the side of the street and winced when he saw two tears fall from Inoue's eyes.

All of his defenses were immediately shot. He raked a hand through his hair and groaned. He just couldn't help it. When it came to women and tears he was one of those stereotypical men who just didn't have a clue what to do. After all, look what had happened to Rukia after she had semi-cried in the office! He had followed her home and had made her come so hard that she fell unconscious.

He mentally shrugged. It wasn't the most orthodox way of doing things but still… she had stopped crying hadn't she?

Was it going to be the same with Inoue too?

I'd never do that, his mind hissed at him for making the blunder.

He cringed, wondering if he'd have to placate Inoue just a bit. Did he really have to become friends with her just so he could stop her from crying?

Three more tears dropped onto her waiting hands.

Shit.

“Ah geez,” he groaned, “Don't… don't cry Inoue… please. Okay, okay… I accept your apology, we can be friends. Just, please stop crying.”

Her head snapped up and, as if by some magical powers, all of the tears in her eyes disappeared. A huge grin broke out on her face and she nodded her head up and down. “Really! Oh Mr. Kurosaki! Thank you! Thank you!” She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Before Ichigo could say another word she was smothered against him, her large breasts pressing painfully into his chest, her hair tickling his nose and making him want to sneeze, her gaudy perfume swamping his senses, and her tight arms grasping him hard.

“Inoue!” He bellowed, “Get off! P-Please!” He added as an afterthought. Silently cursing himself. Why the hell had he agreed to such a Faustian deal? Now he would have to put up with Inoue because they were—he choked on the word—friends.

She released him immediately and pulled herself back into her seat. “I'm sorry, Mr. Kurosaki, I just—it was so wonderful to hear you say that. I'm so happy!” Her eyes shined brightly, only to be outmatched by the countless arrays of whiter-than-white teeth piled high in her mouth.

Oddly enough her canines look really sharp.

“Don't mention it,” he grumbled, ready to get home and take a shower just so he could wash the stink of her off of his body.

“Mr. Kurosaki,” she giggled and then blushed madly, “M-May I call you… Ichigo?”

“No.”

“That's fine too!” She cried happily, “One step at a time I always say!” She moved her hands to her door and was about to open it when she blinked prettily at him. “Would you walk me to the door Mr. Kurosaki? All of my other friends do it! I think it would be a great starting place for us!”

Oh my God. Does this woman ever quit?

“Inoue, I really need to—”

He was cut off before he could even say another word. “Please, Mr. Kurosaki, I promise this'll be the only time. I just really want to start our friendship out on the right foot. You and me… pals, you know? Please?” She drew out the word like a three-year-old would.

Ichigo could feel a migraine throbbing on the edges of his subconscious. There was nothing he wanted to do less than take Inoue to her door. He'd rather face one thousand snarling demons than do that.

But she just wouldn't shut up.

“I just think it would be really great, you know, finally, after all this time, we'll be friends. At last you and me! We'll be able to—”

“Fine!” Ichigo shouted, angrily jerking his door open—into oncoming traffic even—but he didn't care. He had to do anything to get rid of Orihime Inoue and his ever-mounting migraine.

She leaped out of his vehicle without another word and happily reached across the hood to grapple for his hand. He tried to jerk it out of the way but she caught it before he could. Her grip on his wrist was solid iron and she tugged him playfully towards the steps to her apartment building. Ichigo wanted nothing more than to karate-chop her hand off of him but he knew that doing so would only cause a scene.

She quickly unlocked the door to the apartment complex and began fitfully tugging him inside. She giggled like a mad-woman as she brought him up three flights of stairs. “Come on Mr. Kurosaki!” She laughed, “I always like to go up fast. It makes me feel like I'm a space ship about to blast off!”

“I don't doubt it,” he ground out, angrily quickening his pace so she wasn't pulling his shoulder from his socket anymore.

Suddenly, she whirled to a stop in front of a door; Ichigo was jerked forward a few feet and then came back around to face her. In those scant two seconds Inoue was able to undo the lock on her door and push it open. She giggled happily and suddenly launched herself on top of her. Ichigo let out a strangled yelp of surprise as her arms went around his neck and her body pressed against his. Within the next second, her mouth was searching for his.

Ichigo didn't know how to react. Hell, he didn't even know what the fuck was happening! All he knew was that Inoue now wrapped around him, pushing her lips against his, and—and—trying to pull him inside.

His arms shot out and his hands hit the two sides of the doorframe. Inoue's mouth was still on his and he considered head butting her to get her off. He was almost ready to do it too, had she not suddenly pulled away from him completely.

The body that had, just a second ago, been pushed up against his, was now treading happily inside of her apartment. She laughed and got behind her door, pushing it forward to close it.

“Thank you for the escort Mr. Kurosaki!” She giggled, swinging the door shut on him.

Ichigo jerked his hands away as quickly as he could, making sure not to get them stuck in the door. Dazed, he took two steps away from Orihime Inoue's door and blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“What the hell just happened?”

*~*~*

Uryu Ishida sighed as he rifled through the papers he was currently holding in his hands. Damn foreign stockholders… they just had to go and make his life a living hell. It was Friday afternoon and now, with this bomb dropped in his lap, he probably wouldn't get out of the office until nine tonight.

“Why can't they just accept the fact that the two companies are merging?” He muttered dejectedly as he stepped out of the elevator onto Kurosaki's floor, “Or, better yet, why can't they just take stock from a new company and stop bothering me!”

He sighed in frustration and pushed his glasses angrily up his nose. He didn't mean to be angry or frustrated. After all, this was a simple, routine, business procedure. It was his job to deal with the foreign clientele and make sure they were prepared to invest in a company such as this.

It was routine, of course, he just felt like he'd done it hundreds of times before. It was more like babysitting than anything else.

He groaned and tried to fight the urge to run his hands through his hair. His father had always told him: Don't let them see you're frustrated. If you keep your cool you keep the power. Make them powerless.

It seemed like sound advice.

He quickly straightened his shoulders and swiveled around the slight bend in the wall that would give him a perfect view of the secretary's desk.

Ms. Orihime Inoue's desk.

A soft and pained smile came onto his face at the very thought of her. Forget about her, his brain scolded as his pathetic heart tried to start pumping a bit faster than its normal pace. She's not interested in you, only in Kurosaki. Stop fighting for something that you have no control over. He sighed dejectedly and nodded in an answer to his own scalding thoughts.

Forget about her.

He rounded the edge of the bend and immediately stopped in his tracks.

His eyes widened to the size of tennis balls.

Who is she?

Uryu Ishida felt his face growing warm, he felt his body begin to tingle, and he felt his heart—which had one minute ago given up on racing—charge to the cardiac starting gates like a racehorse waiting to be let loose.

The most beautiful creature he had ever seen was sitting in the chair that Orihime Inoue normally occupied.

No… really.

Her skin was pale and… and it looked creamy to the touch. Her body, which was sitting primly in the proffered chair, was supple and curvaceous but still slender. His eyes roved over her like he was a perverted old man gazing at a stunning teenager. He swallowed thickly when he noticed her long, shining, hair. A thick braid ran off one of her shoulders while two more pieces of loose hair framed the area around her face, which her bangs delicately hid. Of what he could see of her she looked like a goddess.

He took a few steps forward, his breath held in the very center of his chest, and fought to swallow. She must have heard him coming because, after a moment, she looked up from her lap and blinked at the man now standing in front of her.

Uryu didn't care if his cheeks were pink or if he looked like he had just run a mile to get here. His eyes were now piercing hers. He could see that they were the color of rich chocolate. He had to fight not to lick his lips.

“Hello,” he said, his voice making him sound winded.

“Hello,” she replied, her own voice melodious while the tone was monotonous. He bet she could sing like an angel is she wanted to.

“My name is Uryu Ishida,” he said, still as out-of-breath as when he first saw her, “I work in International Relations.”

“Nemu Kurotsuchi,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his with a quiet type of interest. “I'm filling in for Orhime Inoue today. I normally work down in Production and Management. Is there something I could help you with?”

Uryu could not believe his ears. How had this goddess worked in the exact same building as him yet he knew nothing about her? Maybe because she was already taken? He quickly looked down into her lap and sought an image of a glittering band of gold.

Nothing. Oh thank God.

He blinked and looked again before glancing up at Ms. Kurostuchi's eyes. Her face was slightly pink and Uryu realized, belatedly of course, that he had just been staring, unbidden, at a woman's crotch for nearly thirty full seconds.

Not that he didn't have good reason, of course…

His jaw tightened and he colored, his throat simply dying to cough in embarrassment. He restrained himself and looked to the side. It was then that his eyes caught sight of something quite… unexpected.

“Are those… knitting needles?” He asked, gently reaching down to finger the soft, cottony, yarn she was using. He fought back a groan when he wondered if this was what her skin felt like.

“Yes,” she answered, another and fuller blush coming around to her features, “I enjoy knitting very much. It relaxes me.”

Uryu could have married her on the spot.

“Me too,” he said, fighting back the overwhelming grin that threatened to take control of all of his facial expressions. “Sewing as well. Sometimes there's nothing like a few sharp needles and a bunch of fabric to cool a person off after a long day.”

Her eyes widened and she nodded emphatically. “I think so too!” Her voice breaking away from its monotony and singing for a moment.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” The words sprang out of his mouth before he could stop them but once they were out, Uryu found that he simply couldn't take them back. So what if he was being impetuous, rude, and far too bold? He had to snatch her up before someone else did!

After all, wasn't he only following his own advice? He was getting over Orihime Inoue—who? His brain demanded after a moment—and this… this… perfect female sitting in front of him was just… was just…

There were no words.

How long had it been since he had even looked at a woman and felt his heart speed up? Sure, blushes were common with Ms. Inoue but never had his chest pounded like this. He felt like a teenager again. He finally felt his cool mask of indifference falling away, revealing a breathless, limitless, feeling of pure desire.

The moment his blurted statement registered in her mind her expression was one of bewilderment. After a moment a worried look crossed her beautiful features and she frowned, looking in disappointment back to her needles, “I-I'm afraid I can't.”

Did his heart just break? If this all-consuming, dreadful, earth-shattering, feeling was heartbreak then he was sure he was experiencing it.

“Why?” He asked numbly, willing her answer to be something along the lines of `I have a stitch n' bitch I have to go to tonight. But you're welcome to come along!' Yet, on the bright side, she wasn't calling security on him. If their positions had been reversed he most certainly would not have tolerated some stranger hitting on him and all of a sudden asking him out to dinner.

She looked up at him dubiously. “Have you ever met my father?”

“Is that a yes?” He demanded, tossing her comment aside and praying to whatever God was out there that she wouldn't call security to have them remove a “persistent pervert.”

Her eyes opened in shock and her mouth parted ever so slightly. Uryu found himself wanting to kiss those lips of hers. They looked like flower petals.

Wow… this is… rather intense.

She frowned at him and pointed her bare knitting needle at him, “Have you… ever met… my father?” Her voice put more emphasis on the words and she punctuated it with a question mark drawn in the air with her needle.

“Is that… a… yes?” Uryu demanded, leaning forward on the desk until his nose was only a breath away from the extended needle.

Her eyes—which had started to go even wider—suddenly filled with warm delight.

“That's a yes,” she said, a small smile starting on her beautiful face, “I get off at six.”

“I'll pick you up then.”

“It's your funeral.”

Uryu only smiled a dashing smile and quickly grabbed her hand, he brought it to his mouth and gently pressed a kiss to the exposed knuckles, she started slightly but kept her position in her chair. Her expression was one of amazement and her cheeks flamed slightly.

Uryu could hardly believe what he was doing himself but he pushed that thought out of his mind immediately. He looked up at her and grinned what he hoped was a wickedly handsome grin, “If it means one night in the pleasure of your company, Ms. Nemu Kurotsuchi, nothing would make me happier.”

*~*~*

Orihime ran into her apartment, tossed her bag to the side, sprinted into her kitchen, and grappled for the phone. She pulled it off of its stand and immediately began to punch in the numbers she had long-since memorized. She was breathless as the phone began to ring.

Shakily, she raised a hand to her lips and touched them with her fingertips. She could still taste Mr. Kurosaki's sweetness on them. Greedily, she brought her tongue out and licked every part of her mouth that she could reach. She then brought her hands to her nose and breathed in deeply. Her fingers were coated in the scent of his hair. Oh… now her hand smelled like strawberries and wine! She knew Mr. Kurosaki would smell just as heavenly as he looked. So wonderful… but still so manly! Oh so manly.

The phone connected and a man on the other end of the line answered, “Ms. Inoue?”

She was breathless as she asked, “Did you get what you needed?”

“I did,” the toneless man responded, “Excellent work. Now all you need to do is wait… patiently. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” she said, her throat working hard to swallow.

The phone disconnected at once. Orihime took it away from her ear, held it in the air like a trophy, and let loose a shriek, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh! Yes! I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it!” Her large breasts bounced in the air as she leaped up and down. Her hair swirled around her body as she twirled inside of her living room.

“Oh!” She cried, her heart feeling like it was about to explode, “Oh finally! I've waited for so long!”

She threw the phone onto the couch and pressed her hands to her still-tingling lips. She couldn't believe it! She was actually going to have Mr. Kurosaki! And soon too!

She giggled gaily as she skipped about her room. She had played her part very well. All of that shit about wanting to be friends! Ha! He had actually believed her! He actually had! But then again, that was to be expected, her old high school drama teacher had told her that she had a flair for the dramatics and was an excellent actress. And the crying on the spot? If that hadn't melted his heart right away!

She twirled three times in a circle, imagining that she was being held by Mr. Kurosaki, when a stray thought brought her twirling to an end. Her smile dropped and an ugly grimace took its place. She began pacing the room and frowned.

The only thing she hated was that she actually had to admit that she knew about him and that whore.

And he hadn't denied it.

Orihime's face clouded instantaneously and she felt a growl grow her throat. That had been the only snag about this little skit of hers. She just had to bring up the whore. The bitch. The tease. The slut. He hadn't even denied it either, he had just said `what' like some sort of horrified schoolboy.

She stopped pacing, allowed a smile to overcome her features, and suddenly resumed her twirling.

Orihime giggled as she moved about the room. She could practically imagine Ichigo being a schoolboy. Oh that deliciously tight uniform!

But still, she could only imagine that he had looked like that—when she had brought up the slut—because he was ashamed of being with her. He probably hated her and wanted to end it. Orihime's eyes darkened when she thought of that whore trapping Mr. Kurosaki into a relationship he didn't want to be in. No doubt she used her position as a Kuchiki to try to force him to stay by her side.

Not anymore.

“Soon,” she sang into her empty apartment, “Soon Mr. Kurosaki… I'll take you away from her! You and I will be so happy together!” She pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled wildly. “After all,” she cried, twirling around the room and running her hands sensually down her voluptuous body. She spoke only to herself as she said, “I'm everything that she isn't!”

Her ramblings continued as she thought:

Soon.

(A/N: And the plot thickens. Can you just hear the Jaws theme song playing in the background? Insert evil laughter.

Also, I know that IshiNemu might be weird for some people… but honestly, I want Ishida to get with someone and since Inoue is a psycho… insert smiley! Deal.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I'll try and keep updating on a weekly basis from here on out although it might get a bit tough!

PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)