Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

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

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 3

 

That morning…

 

Ichigo Kurosaki woke that morning with a hangover throbbing in his temples and an unidentified blond lying beside him.

 

Granted, it wasn't a bad way to wake up, considering that the blond was smoking hot and had a rack the size of the Gobi Desert. I did really good last night. He thought wearily as he turned to his side and squinted at the clock. It was already six in the morning. He cursed angrily and berated himself for not setting the alarm for an earlier time. Ichimaru had told him yesterday that he needed to be at work early because there was some “vitally important information” he needed to hear.

 

Ichigo grunted and moved a hand over his face. His palm was scratched with his scraggly morning shadow and he blinked several times to try and clear the sleep from his eyes. He moved swiftly away from the bed without any regard for the woman still sleeping inside of it. She grumbled softly and turned, hugging the pillow even tighter as the sheet slipped down further, exposing her golf-ball sized nipples in the process. Ichigo stood stark naked to the side for a moment and analyzed the blond in the bed.

 

She was cute, good figure, long hair, humongous breasts, lips that had clearly been injected with something, a tiny waist, and killer calf muscles. He had noticed those little beauties when she had wrapped them around his waist as he pummeled into her. Ichigo frowned and cocked his head to the side; she was a bit too… whiny though. She had made all these breathy, high-pitched, squeaky noises while he was fucking her, and that was just distracting.

 

All in all, she was maybe a six out of ten.

 

He moved to the bathroom with the speed of a drugged sloth. The woman on the bed—wasn't she that Norwegian supermodel who had been all over him at the club last night?—gave out a little snort. He turned the water on in the shower and waited for it to warm up. He needed to get out of here fast so he didn't have to deal with that morning-after awkwardness.

 

Not that he was a stranger to it or anything, he simply preferred letting the Unidentified Woman do her own thing versus the `I'll-call-you-later' scenario. The latter was always made more difficult due to the fact that he ever rarely remembered anyone's number… well, that and he purposely didn't write any of them down. Although, sometimes he had to remember to hide many of the more valuable items in his apartment in order for the “up-and-leave routine” to work successfully.

 

He let the warm water cascade down his body and slowly shook away the lethargic feelings from last night. He remembered now; yesterday was Sunday, a rather irresponsible night for clubbing but a great band he had been dying to see had been playing so he insisted. Hell, he had even gotten Uryu to go with him and Chad. They had gone to a relatively new club, called Pulse, the hottest of the hot were there, including, of course, the young and—if he could say so himself—sexually attractive corporate attorney for Suigetsu Incorporated—Ichigo Kurosaki.

 

He had been hit on almost immediately, him and his friends, Uryu Ishida, and Chad Yasutora. By the end of the night he drank, danced, and had apparently done a Norwegian supermodel.

 

He briskly rubbed soap over his body and through his hair. Oh well, it wasn't like this was a freak occurrence; he got laid almost every single time he went out with his friends. It was like he was a woman magnet.

 

He stepped out of the shower and got a towel from the rack. He took a moment to wipe off the mirror and examine his neck. He couldn't remember if the little minx had bitten him or not, and he certainly didn't want to have teeth marks on his person when he came to meet his boss. He looked closer. No, there wasn't anything there; good, a possibly uncomfortable situation had been averted.

 

Good thing too, he already had a reputation around the office for being something of a “player.” But honestly, it wasn't like it was his fault. Women just seemed to throw themselves at him, if they wanted what he could give them, why shouldn't he oblige? A small smirk formed on Ichigo's face as he towel-dried the rest of his hair and came back out into his bedroom. The blond was still sleeping, and even snoring a bit, Ichigo looked down at the carpet. His clothes were all in a neat pile beside the bed whereas hers were scattered all over the place. He glared down at them for a moment and wrinkled his nose. She had been wearing that? Wow, he must have gotten lucky last night.

 

Ichigo moved to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and a fresh pair of pants. The shirt, coat, and tie soon followed and he put them on quickly enough. His hair was still slightly wet but he didn't mind. It wouldn't settle even if he decided to comb it.

 

He left the apartment with his briefcase in hand. He didn't bother to make coffee because he knew if the blond smelled it she would be up and crooning for his number. He'd just get some on the way.

 

He reached the elevator in his building and pushed the button that would get him down to the car lot and his beautiful Mercedes Benz. There was no one else up this early so he concentrated on what his boss might want to tell him today.

 

The most obvious reason for this chat was a promotion. It wasn't like he had done anything wrong in the past couple of months—well, besides sleep with a couple of his coworkers, but that was, once again, not his fault.

 

But seriously, if he did need to talk to him about something it would most likely be a promotion. Ichigo had been working for this company for a little bit over a year now, he knew the ins and outs of the business, and it wasn't like he hadn't gotten Suigetsu Inc. fifteen profitable companies in the last seven months.

 

He grinned, apparently, he was the youngest man in the history of Suigetsu Inc. to have gained so much in so little time. He shrugged off his own smirk of self congratulation and moved from the elevator to his car. Yeah, he was a good lawyer, a damn good one and they knew it. He had what they called charisma. Once he walked into a room he had businesses begging to be acquiesced within minutes. He was smart, he was talented, and he was handsome—in a roundabout way. Not to mention he was an asset to Suigetsu Inc.

 

He just couldn't wait to get to work today.

 

His car engine purred as he pulled up to a drive through window and ordered a cup of coffee. The young woman who was serving him let her jaw go slack once she saw him and his car. Ichigo gave her a smirk before revving the engine and pulling out, coffee in hand.

 

One of the things that preceded and defined him as a top corporate lawyer was his reputation. It was there no matter where he went, what boardroom he was argued in, or what courtroom he fought inside. His reputation was one of the key pieces to his success. And when all of the variables were considered, it wasn't all that good of a reputation either. There were two actually, his business reputation and his other reputation, both of which were brought to the surface many times.

 

He couldn't help it if people thought he was arrogant, irritating, and womanizing. He wasn't really, but he knew when to get and give praise, he knew that he was smart and that he was a valued member of his company, he knew that he had earned the right to be smug from endless sleep-deprived nights back in high school and college, forcing himself to remain inside—and thus abstinent—just so he could do better on a test, graduate faster, and become the man his father had always wanted him to be.

 

So, arrogant, yes, but he sure as hell earned it. He didn't spend his college years wasting himself away at some drunken frat house and barely graduating. He was irritating, yes, but only when he was driving himself to accomplish something he wanted. He was a womanizer because, well… he supposed he was just making up for lost time.

 

Ichigo parked his car in a lot near the Suigetsu Inc. building and shoved himself out of the driver's seat. His smugness returned as he peered up at the building towering in the morning sky. His eyes subconsciously edged up until he reached the twentieth floor. Right there on the corner was his office. A self-satisfied grin reached his lips and he chuckled, twenty seven years old and he already had a corner office.

 

He continued onto the street, barely watching where he was going. He was the type of person who didn't bother to move out of other people's paths. Normally, because of his bright orange hair people noticed him immediately and moved out of his way. Which he enjoyed very much, it helped add to that whole power-trip thing. Smirking, he kept drinking his coffee, still contemplating what his boss was going to tell him today.

 

What he didn't notice was a dwarf coming straight into his path.

 

Something small collided with the side of his body and he grunted in surprise, then yelped when hot—scalding, fucking, hot—coffee ran down the center of his pristine shirt and coat. What made it even better was the fact that his body tilted to the side, he lost his balance completely, and his entire body rammed into the sidewalk.

 

The thing that ran into him had apparently fallen onto the ground as well and by the sound of its voice the damnable thing was a girl. She cursed loudly enough for the both of them and scrambled up. Ichigo, not wanting to be left on the ground, hoisted himself as well, wincing at the freakishly hot fabric sticking to his chest.

 

“I hope you're going to pay for this.” He snarled as he pulled his sticky shirt away from his body and attempted to stop the skin on his chest from melting away.

 

The figure beside him stiffened but Ichigo still paid it no mind. Damn! This was fucking irritating! How was he supposed to make a good impression with Ichimaru if his shirt was covered in brown coffee stains?

 

“What did you say?”

 

The tone was low and deadly and for the first time since he had bumped into her, Ichigo raised his gaze to meet that of the girl beside him.

 

She was… short. Not embarrassingly short or midget height or dwarfish—like he had originally thought—or anything like that, she was just… tiny. She was dressed professionally too. Her small feet were encased in fashionable heels, her slim legs in a tight fitting pencil skirt, and her torso was wrapped in a sharp-looking suit jacket. He noticed that she had a large brown stain on her white shirt as well, only, from his perspective, he could see through the wet material and glimpse the underlying brazier.

 

Victoria Secret, he thought, nice…

 

At least, that was what had been going through his head, until he got a look at her face.

 

The woman had the most piercing pair of eyes he had ever seen. They were large and ovoid and a dark, misty shade of violet, navy, lavender, and black—all of the shades swarmed together to create an amazing tint akin to precious stones and expensive fabrics. To go even further, those gorgeous eyes of hers were framed in smooth white skin that looked to be the same consistency of silk, but those eyes—those mesmerizing eyes—were staring at him like he had just committed some kind of unspeakable injustice. He blinked at her before gritting his teeth and narrowing his own eyes. He didn't like the way she was looking at him… Like he was created for the sole purpose of wiping the dirt off of the bottoms of her shoes.

 

“I said,” Ichigo ground out. He crossed his arms over his chest—a tactic he learned intimidated many people—and glared at her viciously. “I hope you're going to pay for this.” He took one moment to unfold his arms and point at his ruined shirt. “You completely ruined it! It's brand new!”

 

The woman's—and it was a woman he had been looking at, not a midget, not a kid, an actual, honest to god woman, hell, she even had curves, they were small ones, but they were still there. But damn, she was just so tiny! She looked like she could be a porcelain figurine and here she was, glaring at him like she was ten feet tall and he was only an insect—eyes widened and he watched as her jaw tightened.

 

“I'm sorry,” she snarled, her voice was taking on a tone he didn't like. It made him… hell, it made him uncomfortable. He was Ichigo Kurosaki, he didn't get uncomfortable in front of tiny women. “But I didn't spill the coffee on you, you did that all by yourself.”

 

Ichigo felt a squirming of uncertainty in his gut and he knew he needed to take more control of the conversation when it came to this particular she-demon. She wasn't like most of the women he knew… this one had brain cells.

 

“You must be blind,” he snickered as he dug into his breast pocket and yanked out a business car. He wiped it on his thigh to make sure it was relatively dry and grinned when he thought of her reaction. He hadn't even known the woman two minutes and he was already able to label her a prude, a workaholic, an uptight ass, and a person who liked to be in charge all the time. “Because I was just walking when you bumped your tiny midget body into mine, kid.”

 

He almost laughed when he saw the reaction he had anticipated. He watched her coolly angry expression fade away into one of fury. Good God, even her eyes widened in time with her dropped jaw. This was fantastic!

 

“What?” She cried.

 

She took three small steps forward and he suddenly felt her pointer finger stabbing him in the chest. “I was minding my own business and you walked into me! It's a fairly large street and I'm assuming that someone like you could be able to move out of the way!” Ichigo fought the urge to grab hold of her long and thin finger and yank it away.

 

“You,” he ground out, his temper was augmenting faster than normal. Damn, usually when he dealt with infuriating people he just planted his feet in the ground, glared at them with his infuriatingly wretched scowl, and told them exactly what he thought of them until they cowered away. What was so freaking different about this chick? Was it because she was looking at him the exact same way he was looking at her? No one had ever really done that before…. He mentally growled and continued. “You ran into me. I had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Really?” The woman spat. He locked his jaw as he watched her cross her arms over her chest. She even had the gall to send him a withering glare from those stunning eyes of hers. “I should think that it takes two people to bump—”

 

“More like ram,” he interrupted her and fought the urge to let his jaw drop when she just breezed past his comment. Insolent woman!

 

“Into one another.” She continued. “Besides, you're taller than I am, weren't you supposed to see it coming?”

 

He supposed that she had meant for the question to be rhetorical but his mouth twisted into a smug grin when he realized the easy opening she had just given him. “Well, I suppose since you are such a midget I might have just passed over your range of vision.”

 

The way her face melted into rage nearly made Ichigo's mask of cool arrogance slip. He felt like laughing at the bewildered young woman now shaking in anger. His eyes slipped down her body where he saw her hands gripping themselves into fists.

 

“You idiotic bastard!” She screeched.

 

Ichigo couldn't help himself, he laughed. It was short and pert but it was still there. Oh God, she just looked so ridiculous! This tiny woman—albeit it was a good looking woman—was standing there in a ruined, practically see-through, shirt and looking at him as though he were the antichrist. He just couldn't resist, he saw how her badly enflamed her cheeks were and just leaned forward until his face was exceedingly close to hers. His hand, still holding a business card, reached over to her hip and he brushed it lightly. She jumped a bit and then reddened even more.

 

His mouth became a sneer and he asked in a low voice, “How original, does the writer's guild know about you?”

 

He slipped his hand swiftly into her jacket pocket and placed the business card in the silk lining. She was disconcerted at how close he was, of that much he was certain. He grinned once again and marveled at how uncomfortable he was making her feel. He watched as her gaze slipped away from him and took a moment to notice how her back was curved. She was leaning away from him.

 

Ichigo suddenly stepped back. He pulled himself upright and began walking away. His sudden movements startled the woman but he was already far enough away that when she finally realized he had gone he wasn't able to hear another word from her angry mouth.

 

Ichigo darted away as quickly as possible. His long stride faded into the background as he felt an undeniably vicious aura emanating from where he left that woman.

 

As Ichigo walked into the lobby of Suigetsu Inc. he couldn't help but let out a loud and self satisfied laugh.

 

He deserved it.

 

*~*~*

 

“Today?” Rukia deadpanned.

 

Ukitake nodded calmly. “Yes, Gin Ichimaru, who is the head of legal over at Suigetsu Inc., wants to meet with you today.”

 

Rukia's eyes widened just a bit and she blinked once. “Pardon me, sir, but how quickly is this deal going to take place?”

 

Ukitake leaned back in his chair a bit and tapped his chin in thought, “Well, both companies want it started as quickly as possible but the process will most likely be exceptionally long.”

 

“Exceptionally?” Rukia squeaked. She couldn't imagine working with Ichigo Kurosaki for that long. If he acted the same as how he had this morning then she was in for a couple of long and hellish months.

 

“Yes, Aizen and Yamamoto want everything to be reviewed with a fine toothed comb. So it could take much longer than traditional mergers.”

 

“Good God.” Rukia grunted angrily. She had to fight not to pull her lips into a snarl.

 

Ukitake frowned softly and inclined his head to the side, “Rukia… is there something wrong? I thought you'd be a bit happier about this account.”

 

Rukia's eyes shot up to her boss's face and she gave him a curt nod, “Of course I'm happy about the account. It's just that I happened to meet Ichigo Kurosaki earlier today and I must say I didn't like him very much.”

 

Ukitake's face fell just a bit but he nodded. “Oh… I see.”

 

Rukia sighed heavily and fought the urge to rub the bridge of her nose. She wouldn't do this to herself. She knew how important this account was to her company, to her boss, and to herself. She had been chosen for this job and she would sure as hell take it. Rukia Kuchiki was no quitter and she didn't intend on ever becoming one. So what if she had to work with the ass from this morning? She could do it. After all, he was just like all of her other male clients—just with a bigger brain.

 

Maybe.

 

“Don't worry,” Rukia said to Ukitake after a moment of silence. She turned to him completely and allowed a vast amount of earnest intent to shine in her eyes. “I want this account. I want your job.” She added bluntly.

 

Ukitake's eyebrow went up.

 

“I will do my very best on this account, no matter who I have to work with. I promise.” Rukia offered a quick grin and stood from her seat. “When do I have to meet with Mr. Ichimaru?”

 

“Eleven.”

 

“Fantastic,” Rukia said through gritted teeth, “I'll get over there as soon as I get a few things from my office.”

 

Ukitake gave his employee an incredulous stare. “Are you always early for everything, Rukia?”

 

“Pretty much.” She reached across the table, grasped her boss's hand, and gave him two very firm shakes. Ukitake told her the room, floor, and office number for Gin Ichimaru's office and told her that the receptionist should be expecting her.

 

“Thank you sir,” Rukia said once again before nodding once and exiting her boss's office.

 

Rukia walked back to her own office and informed Momo of where she would be going. The younger woman was dazedly sitting at her desk, twirling a pencil between her fingers; her eyes were so far off that Rukia had to shake the poor woman to get her attention.

 

Once she made sure that all of her calls would have messages when she returned from Suigetsu Inc., Rukia left and began to walk to the adjacent building.

 

When Suigetsu Inc. was formed in the mid 1980's it decided to build an office complex directly beside that of Gotei Corp. Everyone thought the nearly identical building plans as well as the chosen location was the height of cheek, considering the companies were very intense rivals. But really, Rukia mused, it was probably the reason the companies were doing so well. With both of them being so close together it drove them to be better than the other. Still, the courtyard in between them was the only structure separating the two companies. The rivalry was always intense between them, neither company could deny it.

 

Nevertheless, Rukia Kuchiki walked briskly into the Suigetsu Inc. building and smiled confidently at the main receptionist before going into the elevator and pushing the button for the floor Ukitake had told her. She checked her watch and found that she was nearly fifteen minutes early. Rukia smirked and repeated the phrase her brother had always taught her: “You are late if you're on time. You're only on time if you are at least five minutes early.”

 

Rukia Kuchiki walked with confidence to the office of Gin Ichimaru, completely ready to handle what needed to be dealt with.

 

*~*~*

 

“What are you smiling about?” Uryu Ishida asked as he stepped into his friend's office.

 

“Nothing,” Ichigo replied as he shot a paper ball at his trashcan. The tiny ball swished through the little basketball net above it fell harmlessly inside. He swiveled in his plush leather chair and looked at his associate.

 

“You never smile for `nothing,' Kurosaki.” Uryu pointed out dryly.

 

Ichigo rolled his eyes at that, if anyone would know, it would be Uryu Ishida. He and Ichigo worked for the same company—Ichigo in legal and Uryu in foreign industries—so they worked together quite frequently. Uryu was nearly as young as Ichigo and had been driven through college by his father, who owned and built hospitals all over the world. Ironically enough, Ichigo hadn't liked Uryu that much when he had first met him—the annoying little spidery prick that he was—but after some time they became something akin to friends. They still disliked each other on many levels—for instance, Ichigo had once nearly slept with the woman of Uryu's dreams and he had never forgiven him for it—but there was a type of camaraderie between them that made it easier for them to get along.

 

Said man pushed his sharp glasses up with his middle finger and gave Ichigo a glare as he continued to space out. “Still thinking about the blond?”

 

Ichigo frowned and thought back to the woman he had left in his bed. “Um, no. But what was her name again?”

 

“Elena.” Uryu reminded him as he came into the office and sat down in the seat across from Ichigo's desk. “And you screwed her. Rating?”

 

“Six outta ten,” Ichigo sighed and his companion shook his head.

 

“Shame.”

 

“Don't I know it,” Ichigo said sadly.

 

“At least tell me you kissed her,” Uryu said, “Please tell me you've thrown out those stupid rules of yours.”

 

“For random screwing? Are you kidding? The rules must be followed.” Ichigo responded harshly.

 

“Jesus,” Uryu muttered, “You're like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

 

“I have testicles.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Hey—”

 

“So what does Ichimaru want with you this morning?” Uryu interrupted nonchalantly.

 

Ichigo glowered at his friend but answered him anyway. “No clue, but I hope it involves me getting a bigger paycheck.” He balled up another piece of paper and tossed it at the waste basket. This one bounced out to the side.

 

“Come on Kurosaki,” Uryu scoffed, “You already have one Benz, you don't need another.”

 

“Wasn't talking about a Benz, Ishida, now was I? Although that would be pretty nice.” Ichigo propped his feet on his desk and leaned back in his chair.

 

“What then? What would you possibly need? A mail order bride?”

 

“Hell no!” Ichigo retorted, still relaxing in his seat. “Why would I want a wife when I can sleep with some Ivanka whenever I want?”

 

“Elena.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Uryu sighed and glanced out the windows of Ichigo's office. “You're going to eat your words one of these days, Kurosaki.”

 

“Sure… sure.”

 

Uryu gave Ichigo a quizzical stare and blinked. “You're going to go meet with your boss wearing that? What the hell did you get on it anyway?” He stared pointedly at Ichigo's shirt.

 

Ichigo looked down at himself and scowled, the memories from this morning came back to him in a flash. “Some bitch dumped her coffee on me this morning.” He sighed and tried to banish the thoughts from his mind—well, maybe not the parts where he made that woman blush. That was actually surprisingly entertaining.

 

“I see,” Uryu murmured softly and let his gaze drift in the office. “Kurosaki… what time did Ichimaru want you in his office?”

 

“Eleven. Why?”

 

Uryu didn't answer, he simply pointed his spindly fingers at the digital clock on Ichigo's desk. The blinking green lights displayed eight after eleven.

 

“Shit!” Ichigo grunted. He leapt from his desk and hurriedly pulled on his suit jacket.

 

Uryu only watched as Ichigo began cursing angrily. He straightened his stained shirt and grimaced when he felt the sticky stiffness of his new shirt. That damn lady had better call him so she could pay for the cleaning.

 

He walked out of his office without saying another word to Uryu and bolted for the elevator. He entered quickly and immediately pushed the button for the top floor. Ichigo's wait in the elevator was not long and he was out of there in only a matter of moments. He quickly sprinted to his boss's office, earning a couple smirks from coworkers who knew his tardiness habits. Right outside the door Ichigo stopped and made sure his clothes and breathing were in check.

 

He gave a sharp and perfunctory knock on the door before he swung it open and said, “Sorry I'm late, Mr. Ichimaru, I didn't mean to keep you…”

 

His eyes swept the room and fell on the two people inside of it. The first was his silver-haired boss with the creepy eyes and the wicked smile. The second person, to his everlasting surprise, also happened to be someone he recognized. It was a woman; short, petite, and with eyes the consistency of churning liquid sapphires.

 

The woman turned around in her chair and he noticed how her hands immediately tightened on her lap and how her eyes narrowed until they were nearly shut.

 

“Hello,” the woman's voice was like ice filling his veins. “Ichigo Kurosaki.”

 

Shit.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: The note about smexy adult Ichigo was supposed to be on this chapter. Oh well, either way's fine with me.

Anyway, THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS!!! I love it when I see new people review for my fic and I absolutely love seeing comments from faithful reviewers. I'm so happy! Sniffle…

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Don't forget to REVIEW PLEASE!!!)