Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 22 ( Chapter 22 )

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

 

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 22

 

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

 

Rukia swallowed as she and her friend stood outside of Seiretei Incorporated. Her case was slung over her shoulder and her fingers clutched at it like it was a lifeline. With her other hand she smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt and shirt and smoothed down her impeccable ponytail. She nervously patted her hip and cringed when she thought of what she might encounter inside.

 

She turned her head to Momo and saw her friend's sweet smiling face pointed in her direction. Rukia weakly tilted one edge of her mouth up and nodded once. “Maybe just to the elevator.” She made sure that the statement had an upward inflection at the end, just to make sure her friend caught the slight note of desperation in her tone.

 

Momo only smiled and nodded. “Let's go in.”

 

Rukia had to resist the urge to hold Momo's hand as she walked inside. Her eyes immediately scanned the room for any sight of an orange head of hair and—to her everlasting relief—there was none. Exhaling slowly, she bolstered enough confidence to get herself out of the vicinity of the entrance doors. She had to get to a place where there were no exits. She and Momo kept walking forward. Momo was chatting happily beside her about something trivial but right now it was almost comforting to hear.

 

They strode up to the lobby and were about to get onto the elevator when Rukia stopped in her tracks and gaped at the man a little ways away from her.

 

“Mr. Aizen?” She said in surprise. She wheeled in her spot and turned towards the man now talking happily with the floor receptionist.

 

His head lifted when he heard his name. She stood silently as his eyes roamed around the room before finally settling on Rukia.

 

Then they turned to Momo.

 

Mr. Aizen immediately stood up straighter. The counter he had previously been leaning against was left empty as he quickly strode over to where the two women were standing. It took him a mere five strides to reach the two of them. He stopped only a foot away from the two women and Rukia took an instant step back, her `personal bubble' alarms ringing. Momo, however, simply smiled and leaned her head back so she could grin at Rukia's boss.

 

“Hello Rukia,” Mr. Aizen said, his eyes leaving Momo for a moment in order to flicker over to his associate.

 

“Hello Mr. Aizen,” Rukia said again, watching his gaze travel back to her smiling friend with a skeptic glare. “How are you today?”

 

“The day is getting better by the second,” he said, chuckling lightly, “And, may I ask, who is this charming young lady?” His voice dropped a few octaves and he reached out his hand.

 

Rukia watched in amazement as Mr. Aizen picked up Momo's right hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles.

 

“Mr. Aizen,” Rukia blurted, slightly horrified at the liberties he was taking with her friend. She looked over at Momo and almost gaped at what she was seeing.

 

Her friend, her best friend, her best engaged friend, was blushing like a little school girl. Her eyelashes were batting seamlessly against her cheek bones. Her cheeks were tinted an apple red. Even her lips were pursed into a cute little smile.

 

What the fuck was going on? Was Momo flirting with Rukia's boss? Was Rukia's boss flirting back?

 

“Momo Hinamori,” she giggled, taking the hand Mr. Aizen had just kissed and bringing it up to her chest, splaying it against her heart. “Soon to be Momo Hitsugaya, of course.” She rolled her eyes playfully and giggled again.

 

It was only then that Rukia exhaled. She knew that Momo absolutely adored the fact that she was engaged to Toshiro. She was always telling people that she would soon be Momo Hitsugaya. So even though she was using all of her classic “flirting” poses she had still informed Rukia's boss that she was, indeed, engaged.

 

Thank God, Rukia thought headily. For a moment she had thought that Momo was actually accepting Mr. Aizen's advances, and they sure as hell were advances. If he had ever tried to kiss her own hand Rukia would have slapped the living daylights out of the man. No one kissed her whom she didn't want to kiss her.

 

A mental image of Ichigo tongue-fucking her mouth in the elevator came into her brain but she pushed it away.

 

Maybe Momo is just flirting because she has only a few more months left of being a single woman. Maybe it's kind of a last-ditch attempt at being an unattached woman. She thought, breathing in and out a bit softer. Lots of women did that. Most of the time, the thought of sleeping with the same man for the rest of their lives scared many young women into having wild flings right before they said `I do.' Momo was probably no different. She was probably just stretching her last `single' legs before she took the plunge with Toshiro.

 

“I'm Sosuke Aizen,” he said, leaning in just a bit more as Rukia tuned back into the conversation. Momo still didn't move even though Rukia took another step back. Mr. Aizen was only about six inches away from her friend and she was still smiling up at him. “I own the place.”

 

“I work for Miss Kuchiki,” Momo informed him, giggling lightly. “Over at Gotei Corp. mostly but I come here for lunch.”

 

Too much information Momo, Rukia warned her silently, too much. Don't start telling him everything.

 

“How thoughtful,” he grinned down at her and after a moment his thick glasses began to slip down his boyishly sweet face. Someone called his name from across the lobby and he paused—still staring down at Momo—before looking up. His glasses slipped even further down his nose before he answered the person. “Be right over,” he called. He turned back to Momo, smiled once more, pushed his glasses up with his finger, and said, “I hope I'll see you again… soon.”

 

“Sure,” Momo simpered, her eyes blinking as though she had something stuck inside of them.

 

“Bye then,” he nodded his head once and then began walking towards the man who had called to him. After a moment of conversing with another person in a suit he looked back to the two of them, smiled apologetically, and walked away.

 

Rukia stood rigidly in her spot while Momo breathed just a little faster beside her. Rukia had to fight the urge not to let her jaw drop to the floor. She had just been in the presence of her boss for at least three minutes yet he had only said two words to her. Hello Rukia… and that was it. All the other comments had been directed towards Momo… particularly the one about his day getting better.

 

Rukia's brow furrowed enough to match the grooves in the Grand Canyon. Mr. Aizen had just acted like an infatuated teenager. But that couldn't be possible. Momo was engaged, she had told him so herself, yet he still grinned at her like a blushing virgin about to get his first kiss. Rukia glanced at Momo and eyed her skeptically. She was acting even weirder. Her apple cheeks were even redder. Her eyes were sparkling. Her lips were curled into a smile.

 

“Momo,” Rukia said, elongating her name to draw her attention.

 

Her friend was just staring off into the distance where Mr. Aizen had disappeared. She sighed softly before she turned her eyes back to Rukia and raised one eyebrow. “Yes?”

 

“Can we come out of la-la land please?” Rukia demanded. “Shut your mouth, you're engaged, for Christ's sake, stop oogling my boss.”

 

Momo didn't even have enough dignity to be affronted by Rukia's statement, “I wasn't oogling him. I was merely astounded by how nice he was being to me.”

 

Rukia scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Sure, that's why you were batting your eyelashes, blushing, and giggling like mad.”

 

The gasp that came from Momo basically sucked in all the air around them. “I was not!” She crossed her arms and threw her nose up into the air. “I am engaged to be married to a wonderful man and I know for a fact that I would never even as much as look at another one.”

 

“Sure,” Rukia muttered disbelievingly, she strode over to the elevator and Momo followed like a puppy, “But I guess its okay that you were flirting. I mean, you were probably just reveling in your last few months of being single.”

 

“I was not flirting with him.” Momo muttered, her cheeks flushing just a bit. She swallowed convulsively and shook her head. “I wasn't. I really wasn't.” She looked over at Rukia and widened her eyes in innocent horror. “I wasn't… was I?”

 

“Lots of women do it,” Rukia reasoned immediately, she noticed the encroaching fear coming into her friend's gaze and fought quickly to swell it. She knew that if Momo started panicking about something as trivial as this she would be worrying about it for the next several days—meaning, of course, that she would vent to Rukia about it nonstop until she ceased feeling guilty. She added quickly, “They see their single days disappearing and they start feeling a certain kind of dread. Then, of course, they start looking at other single men to see if they could be the reason to back out of their impending weddings.”

 

Now Momo's mouth dropped. “What?!” She shrieked. Both of her hands flew up to her mouth and she began—for some reason—to stomp from foot to foot. “Ohmigawd!” She clutched out to desperately grab the cloth on Rukia's arm. “Rukia… am I… am I questioning my engagement? To Toshiro? Am I?”

 

“Did you think romantic thoughts when you looked at Mr. Aizen?” Rukia demanded, hissing it so no one else would hear them.

 

“Of course not! I just thought he was nice!” She squirmed like she had an upset stomach and bit her bottom lip until tiny spots of red bloomed underneath of them. “I thought it was kind of strange, you know, him being a big business guy and all and still coming over to talk to us. I mean, after all, we're pretty low on the corporate food chain. He seemed like a nice, normal, guy.”

 

Rukia scowled at the food chain comment. Momo might be plankton with her job but Rukia knew that she was some kind of ferocious carnivore. She pushed the thought out of her head and sighed.

 

“Then that's okay.” Rukia said, smiling softly as the elevator dinged. She was actually looking forward to going up to the office and getting away from more of Momo's impending drama. She knew that her friend would be thinking about this particular conversation for the rest of the day and she really didn't want to be there when Momo instigated even more internal panic.

 

She smiled bravely at Momo, who just seemed to notice that the elevator had arrived, and stepped inside. She didn't say anything while the doors slid shut. She heard Momo wish her well but she didn't respond. She just needed to breathe.

 

The elevator went up slowly and Rukia listened to the elevator music while she went. She tried to think about something to say to him… something that might alleviate the awkwardness between them… but she couldn't think of anything. Rukia sighed and pressed her hand onto her eyes.

 

You don't need to plan a speech, she told herself after a moment, all you need to do is go in there and talk to him. Don't do anything else. Don't accuse him, don't scream at him, and don't say he was bad in bed. That would by lying. Lying is bad.

 

The machine stopped and she stepped out of it in one decisive move. She was there early, but not too early—she had to make sure that Momo was awake so they could walk in together—and saw a few people she recognized. They nodded at her and smiled at her as she walked in. She nodded in return but didn't smile. She felt their stares on her back as she passed and wondered whether or not she really did have some sort of scarlet letter pasted on her chest.

 

She swallowed heavily as she made her way towards her office. The door was already partially open and she could hear movement inside. She felt her molars grinding together when she thought of how early he must have gotten up just to get here before her.

 

Just to confront me, she grumbled inwardly.

 

Gritting her teeth together, Rukia pulled her attaché case further up on her shoulder and squeezed it against her body. She drew in a shuddering breath and pushed the door open even more.

 

He was sitting at his desk, writing something down on a piece of paper, and humming a soft tune. She couldn't see his eyes; they were obscured by his fiery bangs. She felt her throat compulsively swallow once again but she stopped before she could. The door hit the opposite wall and started to bounce back. He heard it and stiffened in his seat even though he didn't raise his head.

 

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. For once she was looking straight at him and he was avoiding her. She took a few steps inside and slowly wandered over to her desk. She set her things on her desk and, after one more moment of staring at the top of Ichigo's head, she sat down.

 

Her ass connected with the cushiness of her chair and she sighed softly. Okay, she thought, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be.

 

“I missed you Sunday morning,” he said after only a moment of silence.

 

Rukia remained rigid in her chair and didn't turn her head to look at him. What the hell were they doing? Playing eye tag? She squished her lids shut and instantly curled her hands into fists in her lap. She clenched her teeth together and sucked in a small breath. A moment later she opened her eyes only to stare at her blank computer screen. “Um… yeah, I had to…”

 

You had to… you had to what? Hm? What in the world are you going to tell him? You had an appointment at four in the morning? You had to meet Momo? You had a surprise meeting? You needed to finish a file? What the fuck didn't you have to do?!

 

“…Go.” She finished, feeling as lame as a person who had been run over by a bulldozer.

 

He finally looked up and turned his head towards her. His eyes were fixated on her face and she was staring distractedly at her computer.

 

“You had to… go.”

 

“I had to go.” She muttered in affirmation.

 

“At four in the morning.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“Yes. I had to leave.”

 

“Any particular reason why?”

 

“None that you need to know about.”

 

Ichigo scoffed and it was the first sound that she heard this morning that actually should have come from his mouth. Of fuck, where was the condescension, the hatred, the bigotry, and the snide comments that she was used to? She could have defended herself against accusations like those. She really could have. She didn't want to be having a semi-serious conversation with Ichigo about the amazing sex they had had two nights ago. Not when it could mean that she'd have to explain… well, everything.

 

“None that I need to know about?” He asked again, his voice sterner than it had been a moment ago; she turned her head to look at him and narrowed her eyes. “None that I need… Rukia, I fucked you all night and then you up and leave and I don't need to know about it?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe I don't need to know but I'd sure as hell like to know.”

 

“Acting a little possessive, are we?” She demanded, clenching her fingers on the sides of her desk. “I thought you did this sort of thing often?”

 

“Oh no,” he grunted, rising from his chair and taking a few quick steps over to her desk. Rukia's body stiffened visibly and she immediately pushed her chair as far away from him as she possibly could. “You're not getting off on that, Rukia; you can't just make me mad and think we're done with this. Contrary to what you might think, I actually can control my temper when I so choose, and right now I'm choosing.” He took more steps in her direction and she scooted away again. “I'd like to know why you just up and left.”

 

“Surprised a woman actually did it to you?” Rukia demanded hotly. “I guess it only works one way then. You have sex and then you leave a woman to her own devices. Well what if I didn't want to play it that way? What if I wanted to be the one who left you to your devices? What if I wanted to be the one who left you in a state of confusion and… and anger? Huh? Ever think about that?” She stood out of her chair and stomped over to him. She brought one finger out and began prodding him hard in the chest. “You're not the only one who can pull off a successful one night stand, mister, I happen to be just as good.”

 

“So you do this all the time too, do you?” He hissed, swiping at her finger and trying to catch it.

 

“Of course not,” she shot back, jerking her hand away, “But that doesn't mean I don't know how.”

 

“Oh, I see,” he scoffed, “You just decide, after a night of fantastic sex, that you want to leave. Sorry Rukia. I don't buy it.”

 

She glared at him and then shoved her head to the side. “I won't disagree Kurosaki, but I need to make my point clear.”

 

“So make it.” He challenged hotly, taking another step forward.

 

“We've slept together,” she ground out, taking care to keep his encroaching proximity in the front of her mind. “Do you realize how that compromises our business relationship? Do you realize how hard it's going to be to look at you and not see you naked? Do you even get that I should have never come over to your house in the first place?”

 

“You're basically saying that just because the fact that we slept together is making you slightly uncomfortable we should never see each other again? Is that it?” He demanded.

 

“Yes!” She cried, throwing her hands into the air dramatically, “At least… not socially. We'll still have to see each other at work but—but—we can never have sex together again.”

 

His jaw dropped several inches. He looked like a child who had just been informed that Christmas was not coming this year. It would have been comical had it not been for the seriousness of the conversation.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

 

Rukia's face immediately colored and she forced herself to look away from his ridiculously angry and amusing expression. Her fists tightened at her sides and she said, “I'm not. I can assure you.”

 

He was silent but she still didn't look in his direction. She didn't want to see his face. His outrageous ugly… yet so handsome… face…

 

“No offense Rukia,” he said in a smoky, husky voice that made a shiver run down her spine, “But I really don't think this plan of yours is going to work.”

 

She finally turned to him and lifted her chin stubbornly. “We'll see.”

 

*~*~*

 

Monday afternoon had rolled on at an unusually slow pace today. Orihime had jiggled her foot up and down at her desk practically all day. She had just wanted to go home. She wanted to see if her mystery man had left another message.

 

As she raced up the steps to her apartment—pointedly ignoring the sharp pain in her feet—she thought back to how today had gone.

 

She had been watching Mr. Kurosaki lately with renewed interest. Now that her suspicions were correct about him having some sort of tryst with that whore Kuchiki she wanted to watch and see how he reacted whenever she was near.

 

Orihime had seen the two of them walk out of their office on the way to their lunch breaks and they both completely ignored one another. She had seen the stiffness in their backs and knew instantly that they were furious with each other. This, for obvious reasons, made her happier than the day she had actually kissed Mr. Kurosaki at the Christmas Party.

 

Both of them, throughout the entire day, had looked so angry with one another. When she came in to give Mr. Kurosaki a new file she had seen the looks he sent towards his partner. She had sent them right back. It was as if they were engaged in an enraged staring contest that neither one of them wanted to break.

 

Orihime had nearly laughed out loud when she saw Miss Kuchiki—at some point in the day—bare her teeth at Mr. Kurosaki and tell him to `shove the fuck off.' She had been trying to be discrete about the comment but it hadn't worked. The whole hall had heard her and turned to stare at the pair. She walked back into her office with her cheeks a furious pink. Mr. Kurosaki had followed with his scowl even deeper than normal. Orihime had nearly swooned at the sight of that scowl. It had made her even more impatient for five o'clock.

 

Returning to her current task Orihime shoved her key into her door and clicked the lock. She pushed her elbow into the oak and it pounded open without another moment's hesitation. She dashed inside and shut the door as fast as she could.

 

Her chest was heaving up and down as she stared down at the floor. Her hungry eyes immediately latched onto the manila envelope waiting patiently on the floor. A sharp cry of joy echoed around her apartment as she lunged for the thing. Her knees connected solidly with the ground and she flinched in pain but her fingers were busily ripping off the protective tape around the envelope.

 

A single note was inside and Orihime quickly brought it out. She sat down on the ground and read the letter as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. This time it wasn't written out in cut-out letters from magazines. This time, it was spotlessly typed and printed on a single sheet of white computer paper.

 

Orihime Inoue,

 

From your rather fastidious reply I know that you are serious in your desire to have Ichigo Kurosaki for yourself.

 

As I said before, I can help you. However, you must follow every single one of my instructions. If you should begin to dissent or question any direction I have given you I will know and you will be punished for it accordingly.

 

Below is a number, call it; employ this man's services upon Mr. Kurosaki and Miss Kuchiki.

 

It is October now. In exactly three months time I will ask you to collect the fruit of this man's labors. You will then post them in this same envelope outside of your door. I will be waiting.

 

If you follow these directions you will be richly rewarded.

 

I know you won't disappoint me.

 

Orihime had the phone in her hand the moment the last sentence rushed through her mind. She quickly looked over the number and dialed. It rang only twice before someone on the other end of the line picked up.

 

“Schiffer Private Investigating, Ulquiorra Schiffer speaking, how may I assist you?”

 

Orihime had to stifle a gasp as the man introduced himself. A private investigator? She mused inwardly. Part of her insides were cringing while she other part was singing in joy. She swallowed and reminded herself that the note told her to follow the directions exactly. She couldn't cut corners here.

 

“Hello?” The voice said.

 

Orihime shivered at the sound. It was lifeless, dead, and void of any sort of emotion. She cleared her throat and squeaked. “Yes? Hello?”

 

“May I help you?”

 

“Yes,” she answered quickly, “My name is—”

 

“I don't need to know your name,” Mr. Schiffer told her smoothly, “My clients tell me what they want and provide me with only a credit card number. That's all I care about. You need to tell me nothing else.”

 

“Then how will I get my product?” Orihime sighed in a squeak.

 

“I have my ways.”

 

“Oh,” she said, a nervous giggle appearing in her throat. “Alright…”

 

“Their names?” He asked.

 

“Ever the businessman,” Orihime laughed lightly, her tone slightly nervous, as she heard the emotionless man clear his throat on the other end. She swallowed hard and thought of her reward… her and Mr. Kurosaki, together, his adoring face on hers, his hands on her body, and his mouth whispering her name…

 

“Mrs. Orihime Kurosaki…”

 

She spoke without hesitation. “Their names are Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki. Find out what they do together.”

 

“Fine.”

 

The phone clicked shut and it took Orihime around an extra thirty seconds to actually pull it away from her ear. She placed it down on the cradle and sighed.

 

She didn't even contemplate the morality of her actions before she shrugged, clapped her hands together, and moved into the kitchen. She hummed a small song while she took out her pots and pans.

 

“Mr. Schiffer,” she giggled as she searched through her pantry, “I hope you can do you job because that way…” she trailed off before she finished in a sing-songy tone, “Mr. Kur-o-sa-ki will be m-i-ne!”

 

She laughed and kept on making dinner.

 

*~*~*

 

“Good afternoon Brother,” Rukia said softly, she knocked once on the hospital door before entering with a small smile. She took a few more steps inside and made sure to keep her face straight even though Byakuya looked like death. Granted, he was sitting up a bit, he was sipping from a small glass of water, and he looked much improved over how he had been after he had been shot. Still, all of those factors didn't change the fact that his face was a pale green, that his eyes were hollow, and that is once proud chin drooped a bit into his chest.

 

Rukia saw Byakuya's eyes slide over to hers and then look away. Her stomach fell at bit but she was used to it. Her brother couldn't look at her for very long because she resembled his late wife just a bit too much. Okay, almost exactly. She knew she shouldn't hold it against him but… well, at least he could show some type of remorse when he did it.

 

Not to mention that she was the only one—besides his secretary—who had actually come to visit him in his stint in this place. Granted, thousands of business partners sent cards and flowers and other such things, but no one had actually cared enough to visit except for her.

 

Besides, if she was going to spend her Friday night with him in his hospital room, barely conversing, and simply sitting in uncomfortable silence, the least he could do was look at her. She wasn't really getting anything out of this other than a bad mood. A mood which was already ruined by a week of silent and furious sexual tension between her and Ichigo Kurosaki. She snarled when she thought about it. They had barely spoken all week and every single time she looked at the man she couldn't help but see him naked. She was also quite sure that he saw the same thing when he looked at her.

 

It didn't help either that every time they looked at one another a replay of the night they spent together went running through their heads. Panting mouth, arching bodies, thrusting hips, and swallowed screams were never far from her consciousness—or his—whenever they were near each other. Several times she had even seen him look up at her, shiver in his desk, and excuse himself to go to the bathroom—a fact that he made sure she knew while he was on his way out. When he came back ten minutes later he sported a flushed face and a dirty look in his eyes. Rukia just refused to look at him.

 

She pulled herself back to her spot in the hospital and walked further into the room. She sat down in the empty seat beside her brothers' bed and crossed her legs in a lady-like fashion. She screwed a smile onto her face and began with the questions she had prepared.

 

“Brother, how are you feeling?” She asked politely.

 

“Much better.” He responded flatly.

 

“Have the doctors put you on any new medications?” Still polite.

 

“They've taken me off a few.” Still just as flat.

 

“That's very good.” Oh the joy that was inside of her voice. “Are they making sure that you're comfortable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Good God this is worse than getting a brain tumor removed without anesthesia.

 

“You're not working are you?” She asked after noticing the folders and files on his bedside table. She made her voice sound a bit dubious, hopefully making it seem like she was worried about him more than she actually was. She knew that absolutely nothing would ever stop Byakuya Kuchiki from doing what he wanted to do.

 

“Of course I am. The company needs to keep working so I must keep working.” His tone was clipped and strong, the Byakuya of old.

 

“You should still rest; you wouldn't want to get sicker before you become better.” Rukia said softly, this time the concern in her voice was real.

 

“I will be perfectly fine.” Byakuya said quietly. He took the glass of water away from his lips and placed it on the top of his thigh. There was a small silence between them before he turned his head completely away from her and said, “You're doing well at work, I presume?”

 

The gerbils working in Rukia's mind immediately began building up a barrier. Their little feet worked as hard as they could to produce an appropriate wall of defense against anything her brother had to say.

 

“Yes, Brother, I am doing very well.”

 

“You must always be sure to check and double check your work. Kuchiki's do not leave anything to fault.” He said in a stern voice.

 

“I understand.”

 

“You must not allow yourself to become sidetracked by anything,” he said curtly, “That has always been one of your problems. You become distracted easily.”

 

“I do, Brother.” Rukia agreed quietly even though she knew it wasn't true.

 

“Those who work with me say that you have developed an aggressive relationship with your coworker, Ichigo Kurosaki.” He intoned pointedly.

 

Aggressive wouldn't even be the half of it. Rukia thought sourly, fighting a shiver running through her body.

 

She cleared her throat and continued. “We seem disagree on several trivial matters but they never interfere with the work we do in the office.”

 

“I see.” Byakuya murmured softly, he hadn't moved a muscle since he first began speaking to her. His rigid posture, while it might have intimidated some, only served to irritate Rukia. The least the guy could do was look a little softened up. He was in a hospital for Christ's sake. He had been fucking shot… twice! If anyone deserved to slouch a little right now it was him.

 

“You must never let down your guard,” he said, his voice cold as ice and hard as steel. “Whether or not you disagree with this man on trivial things is not my concern. What is my concern is the way you carry yourself and the Kuchiki name in matters of business and in matters of life. Should you offend the Kuchiki family by acting carelessly with any business partner it could mar our respectability in places around the world.”

 

Rukia's cheeks were blazing hot and for once she was glad that her brother wasn't looking at her. If only he knew how carelessly inappropriately she had acted with Ichigo Kurosaki last week…

 

“I understand, Brother.”

 

“There is also another matter which I'd like to discuss.” He said, he shifted in his bed slightly and Rukia thought she saw a flash of pain cross his features. She must have been imagining it though. Her brother didn't show weakness. That ability hadn't been programmed into him.

 

Rukia swallowed and immediately called for the gerbils to start building a higher wall. Her brother never announced anything that he wanted to discuss with her. He just said it. For him to actually announce it did not bode well for Rukia.

 

“This experience has left me to know my own limitations,” Byakuya said in a flat tone, “I will not live forever.”

 

Yes you will, Rukia thought with an inward groan.

 

“Knowing such,” he continued, “I would like to begin to order my affairs.”

 

Rukia raised an eyebrow at this, “You mean… make a will?”

 

“In a way.” He said stonily, “However, in order for it to be complete I should need to include you and any offspring you might produce.”

 

Rukia had to fight to keep her jaw in place. “E-Excuse me?”

 

“Do not stutter,” he commanded quietly, “It is ever so rude.”

 

“I'm sorry Brother,” Rukia said, the alarm signals in her brain screaming for her to run from the room, “But I did not understand what you meant by… offspring.”

 

“Children,” Byakuya said as though she were stupid, “I meant children. Should I assume that you wish for them to be included in my will?”

 

“Brother,” she said, making sure she spoke as slowly as she could just in case those drugs had unhinged him a bit, “I do not have any children.”

 

Byakuya sighed at how tiresome she was being. “I am aware of that. However, you are almost thirty years old. Should the Kuchiki family not expect for you to have a child by that age?”

 

It was a rhetorical question but Rukia didn't speak. She couldn't. He couldn't really be serious, could he? He expected her—in the next four years—to find the perfect man, get married, settle down, and pop out a couple of kids? Was he nuts?

 

“That being said,” he sighed, setting the cup of water on the table beside him, “I believe it is time for you to choose a husband.”

 

Rukia had to fight to keep her brain from imploding.

 

“With all due respect,” Rukia blurted out before she could bite her tongue and shove the comment back down in her throat. She wasn't sure that her brain was working properly right now, because if it was, well, she definitely wouldn't have said anything to ever contradict her brother. She absolutely wouldn't be saying this.

 

But then again, who the hell was he to dictate who she married? Or when she had kids, for that matter, or if she wanted them included in his damn will? It was her decision whether or not she even wanted to have kids! Byakuya and Hisana never had any—but that was more because of Hisana's health more than anything else. Still, she made more than enough money to produce an entire baseball team and get them comfortably through life.

 

Not to mention she was not almost thirty. Sure she was over the twenty five mark but she was still only twenty six. She had four more years before she was thirty. Lots of women in her position waited until they were at least thirty five to have kids. Some even forty!

 

“Byakuya,” she continued, her mind spasmed in glee at the sound of his first name coming fearlessly from her lips. She couldn't actually believe that she had used his first name and had not been chastised for it. Oh well, if she was going to be disowned then she might as well go all-out and do it right.

 

“It is not up to you to dictate whom I marry or when I have children. You can create your will should you feel the need and if I ever feel the desire to reproduce you may amend it then but I will not have you telling me whom I must marry or when I must have a child.” Rukia stopped and drew in deep breath.

 

Her brother didn't even move. Silence enveloped the two once again and Rukia sat there awkwardly, ready and waiting for the feel of an ax at the back of her head.

 

The silence stretched on for five whole minutes before her brother actually decided to speak.

 

“Who.”

 

Rukia lifted her head and frowned, “I… beg your pardon?”

 

“Who you marry, not whom.”

 

Rukia blinked once before nodding and staring pointedly at the floor.

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo was currently watching some terrible monster decapitate several unsuspecting teenagers. He sighed in boredom and wondered if he should go out tonight. After all, it was a Friday, he was free, and it had been over a week since he had had sex. Or, real sex, at least. Jacking off while thinking of that bitch wasn't exactly sex.

 

His eyes narrowed angrily and he slowly sipped the glass of water he had beside him. She had been even worse this week than she normally was. She had ignored him for five straight days, she barely spoke to him, and whenever she actually did speak to him it was in short, clipped, sentences. They were orders mostly; take this file, organize this, get away from me bastard, etc. Nothing to suggest that she was ever going to renege on her vow to stay away from him.

 

Ichigo turned to the clock and glowered. It was already nine at night. Nine at night on a Friday and he was sitting at home watching some shitty movie when he should be out doing whatever the hell he wanted to do.

 

He groaned and flipped the television off. He might as well just go to bed. He growled when he realized how pathetic his life had become. Bed a nine o'clock and obsessing about a woman he didn't even like…

 

But a woman who had the tightest pussy he had ever felt in his entire life.

 

He stood and stretched his muscles before going towards the kitchen to shut off the lights. He had almost made it to his bedroom when a light tapping sound caught his attention.

 

He stopped, turned, and wandered over to the living room once again. The tapping came again, this time it was much more insistent. It was also coming from the door. He walked towards it and began undoing the locks. Once all of them were off and the door was shoved out of the way he turned to the person standing in the doorway.

 

He blinked twice before scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest, “You're got to be fucking kidding me.”

 

“I'm not,” Rukia said from the other side. She nodded her head to the inside of his apartment and raised an eyebrow. “May I come in?”

 

He shook his head in defeat and stepped aside. She walked in without another word and quickly shucked her shoes and her purse over to a small corner of the room. She was wearing a very conservative afternoon dress. It was light gray, long sleeved, and ended at her shins. He stared at her as she hiked up her skirt a bit and began to tug down her pantyhose.

 

He rolled his eyes to the top of his head and leaned against the closed door, redoing the locks with nearly mindless motions. He was truly trying to stop staring at the sheer, silken, undergarment she was currently peeling off of her body. “Please don't tell me you're trying to pull something now Kuchiki.”

 

“I just spent,” she began in a conversational tone, “Four hours practically locked in a room with my older brother.” She tossed the pantyhose in the same area as her shoes and then worked down her—oh sweet Jesus was that her underwear?

 

She kept going as though there was nothing unusual about undressing in the middle of a living room while a very aroused man watched. “He started telling me that we—you and I—had an improper business relationship because we bicker too much. I had to hold off on telling him what we did in our spare time last Friday.”

 

He didn't know how she did it but she was able to take off her bra and slide it down her entire body so it appeared from the bottom of the dress. But he was sure as hell grateful. Her tone didn't even change as she tossed it aside.

 

“Then he began telling me all about how he wants to make a will and how he needs to include my future husband and my future children in it. Then he basically told me that I was getting old and that I needed to hurry up and reproduce.” She raised an eyebrow and began to slide her arms out of the sleeves. “So really, I'm irritated, I'm tired, and I want to have sex.”

 

At least she's clear about what she wants. Ichigo mused.

 

Rukia began to shimmy the dress over her head and once it was off she turned to face him. She smiled softly and backed up a bit so she could sit comfortably on the couch. She crossed her legs like a lady and calmly placed her arm over the back of the cushy surface. The other rested between her legs. She would have looked normal if she hadn't been completely naked.

 

“So this is my logic,” she held up a hand and began to tick off fingers as she spoke, “You are not doing anything right now. I am not doing anything right now. It is Friday night and neither you nor I have anything to do tomorrow. I am feeling very sexually frustrated right now and I have a feeling that you will be able to help me with that.” She cocked her head to the side and evaluated him with a small smile. “So… what do you say?”

 

Ichigo already had his shirt off and was working on his jeans when he reached one hand out and leveraged it against the couch. He bent down and felt his lungs constricting in his chest. Her eyes followed him as he finished working on his zipper and placed both of his hands on her knees. He saw her eyes dilate with hunger and he smirked.

 

“I think,” he said in a hungry voice as he spread her legs apart. “That you talk too much.”

 

“Going straight for the pussy,” Rukia sighed as she arched her back and allowed Ichigo's hot breath to lave her. “I like a man who does that.”

 

Ichigo chuckled and brought his thumb out to tease her clit while probing her gently with his other fingers. Her breathing tightened and he saw her hands constrict on the couch. He brought his second hand up between her legs and slid three fingers inside of her.

 

“Ah!” Rukia cried, her eyes were shut tight and she demandingly scooted even further down the couch until her ass was nearly hanging off the edge. “U-Use you-r m-mouth,” she gasped, crushing one of his pillows underneath her hands.

 

Ichigo smirked and leaned forward. His breath teased her for several moments; he allowed himself to drink in the heady flavor of her essence. He smelled that which was truly and purely Rukia. He was still pumping into her with his fingers and testing her clit with his thumb, but he knew that it was the warmth of his lips that she craved, the slick playfulness of his tongue, and the gentle scraping of his teeth. He glanced up at her quickly and noted her shut eyes, her erect nipples, her expanding and retracting chest, and her open, panting, mouth.

 

He could barely contain his smug sense of satisfaction. He snickered lightly as he bent forward and flicked his tongue over her. She jolted in surprise and he had to fight to keep her legs from clamping hard around his head. He moaned at how wet she was. He was practically drinking her because she was so aroused.

 

His fingers were moving at an incredibly slow rate. He felt beads of sweat beginning to run down her entire body. He was feasting hungrily on her and her body was accepting it willingly. She was arching against the couch, panting against the actions of his mouth and fingers, and moaning wantonly.

 

Ichigo chuckled darkly against her and pressed his face against her with more earnest than before. He didn't know what was going on with him but he absolutely loved the reaction he was getting from her. The more he stroked her with his tongue the wetter she became, the more of her he drank, and the more intoxicated he became. It was overpowering, it was delicious, it was just… Rukia.

 

She said his name in one breathy whisper and Ichigo felt a shudder run through his entire body. Her fingers had fairly ripped apart one of his pillows and were inching closer and closer to his head. He knew that if she didn't get some type of release soon he was going to have to come up with an explanation for the several sudden bald spots that would appear on his scalp.

 

His fingers were almost ready to put the finishing touches on her impending orgasm when he felt her fingers pushing against his forehead. He tried to ignore them at first but after a moment they became much more insistent. With a groan of distaste, Ichigo pulled away and turned his angrily aroused glare onto the woman causing him so much pain.

 

Her eyes were a hazy shade of violet sapphires and were boring into his with the intensity of five hundred stars. He swallowed under the scrutiny but was delighted when more of her unique taste slipped down his throat. His body became boneless as she shoved him away from her. Her nails dug into his shoulder but he didn't object when she pulled him onto the couch so he was sitting beside her.

 

In one smooth move she was straddling his legs and before he could say another word she was surrounding him. Her tight, wet, extraordinarily velvety heat enveloped his engorged hardness like a glove. Her hands immediately went to his neck while his went around her waist.

 

Her face contracted the moment he was inside of her to the hilt. With a sharp cry she let loose the orgasm she had been holding in. Ichigo nearly passed out at the exquisite torture of feeling her walls clamp down on him without provocation. She was shaking around him and holding him tight enough to choke. Her breathing was labored, her chest was heaving up and down, leaving Ichigo with an unobstructed view of her pert breasts.

 

She was pulsating against him and Ichigo matched her with his throbbing cock. He let out a single, shuddering, breath, and slowly opened his eyes—he hadn't even realized he'd closed them.

 

Her eyes were staring into his and, even though he thought it wasn't possible, with that simple contact Ichigo became more turned on than he had all night. It was as if he could see directly into every secret desire she held close to her heart. He could see her fantasies, her wishes, and her naughtiest, kinkiest, and the most fantastic sex dreams she had ever concocted.

 

In one single move Rukia was lying flat against the floor of his apartment. The carpet scratched against her back as he slowly pulled out of her and, still watching every flicker of her eyes, slammed back inside.

 

She let out a sharp shriek and clamped her hands around his back. One of her hands tangled up in her hair while the other dug its nails into her back. She arched upwards and pressed her stomach against his. Her body curled around his and she buried her head in his neck. Her lips began busily working on his skin and her little pink tongue caught droplets of sweat and they rolled down his neck.

 

Ichigo pulled out and slammed back in again with a wild force. Rukia clung to him as hard as she possibly could and tried to meet each of his thrusts with a roll of her hips. He was animalistic though; his body seemed specifically designed to pummel into this woman's body with a power unlike any she had ever experienced before.

 

Her eyes flew open and her mouth gaped in a soundless scream when she felt her body begin to shake once again. She clenched her teeth shut and gripped the strands of his hair even harder as she came. Her juices gushed from her body and coated him as he thrust in and out of her.

 

Ichigo felt heady and light as his body began tingling with the tell-tale signs of his release. Rukia moaned into his ear and at that very sound he knew that he couldn't hold on to his release any longer. In one final thrust he erupted inside of her body. She clutched him even harder than before as he exploded.

 

He collapsed on top of her without a second thought and tried to regain the ability to breathe. Christ he felt so good. The type of good that only comes after having a fantastic and mind-blowing orgasm.

 

Self-serving didn't even come close to this.

 

Her hands were clutching at his back, her fingers flexing and relaxing against his skin as she breathed. Her body was completely crushed underneath of his. He groaned and rolled off to the side. He nearly ran into his coffee table but was able to avoid it in just enough time.

 

“Ah!” He groaned, blinking several times at the glowing light of the lamp above him. He waved away a piece of his clothing and frowned at the feeling of the scratchy carpet against his back. He wondered if he had given Rukia rug burn.

 

“See?” She gasped between heaving breaths, “I knew… you could… help.”

 

He snorted and wiped a thin stream of sweat away from his forehead. “Glad… to be of… service.” He muttered ruefully.

 

He flipped his body towards her until he was leaning over her enticingly sexual form. Her eyes were still wonderfully hazy and her pink skin was still glowing with post-coital warmth.

 

“So what is this?” He asked casually, descending his mouth and pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone. “Am I your personal prostitute now? Giving you sex whenever you feel like it?”

 

“Except you won't get paid.”

 

“I feel so loved.”

 

“You shouldn't,” Rukia told him, squirming her body against his, “You should just feel used.”

 

He drew back and frowned at her contentedly smug expression. “So let me get this straight,” he muttered, “You basically get to call me up whenever you feel like it and sleep with me for no reason other than you want to?”

 

She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, “You have a problem with that?”

 

Ichigo slid back a bit until he was sitting up against the edge of the couch. He placed his arm casually over a cushion and glared. “Actually, even considering my history with this sort of thing, I do.”

 

“That's surprising,” she sighed, she raised herself and placed her back against the couch as well.

 

“I know,” he sighed and roved his head around his neck, “So what, you're just going to ignore me all during work and then fuck me later on in the afternoons and on the weekends?”

 

“In a completely simplified way… yes.” She said, sighing and then beginning to stretch out her arms. “But I won't ignore you when it comes to work. We just won't talk about sex.”

 

His eyes widened. “Not… talk about sex? Are you serious?”

 

“As a heart attack.” She stood and began stretching her entire body. Ichigo watched her with increasing interest and fought to keep his mind free of his hazy desires. His eyes roved down to the sweet bundle of curls between her legs. His mouth went dry when he saw the slickness on her legs and beads of his own semen running down her thighs.

 

“Listen, Ichigo,” she fell to her knees and began to slide kisses over his neck. “Think of this as some kind of… gift.” One of her hands slid down his chest and followed the trail of golden curls down his body.

 

“A gift?” He asked, his breathing increasing twofold when he felt her fingers begin to toy with his growing erection.

 

“Yes,” she whispered hotly into his ear, wrapping her hand around his entire cock and stroking it with increasing fire. “You like having sex with me, I like having sex with you—more than I should really—but the fact is… now that I've had it I don't want to lose it.” She added a second hand to the pressure she was applying to his erection and laughed gently as she passed her thumb over the tip of him. He jerked against her and she grinned wickedly.

 

“So this is what I propose,” she whispered, teasing his earlobe with her tongue, “I propose that we come to some sort of arrangement. Sex with no strings. Just pure, carnal, absolute, pleasure. Nothing more and nothing less, whenever we feel like it.”

 

She tugged sharply on his erection and he felt like shrieking at how good it felt.

 

“What do you say?”

 

He was standing in a mere second. Reaching down quickly he yanked Rukia to her feet and began dragging her towards his bedroom. She followed him grinning like a young puppy followed its master.

 

Without further ado, Ichigo pushed her—laughing—onto the bed and watched as her body bounced delightedly on the mattress. He climbed over her and kissed her quickly on the lips. He grinned and raised his eyebrow softly.

 

“Just don't think about going back on it,” he said before driving himself far and deep inside of her.

 

Neither of them bothered to realize that sex without strings never panned out well.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: I decided to update early because I was so late last time.

 

Well now, what do you all think of this chapter? I hope I got everything stuffed in there: drama, suspense, creepiness, humor, and—of course—a lemon. Can't forget the lemon.

 

Just so you all know, now that we've gotten over the initial lemon, each chapter should have a citrusy flavor to it, or just have a full on lemon, inside of it. You've been warned.

 

Please LEAVE REVIEWS!!! I'd like to know what everything thinks about this new development between our carnal love birds. I think it fits the IchiRuki personality that I've created in this fic, and really, sex with no strings? Psh… I laugh.

 

Oh, and once again, please remember that I despise Orihime Inoue with every fiber of my Bleach being. I would rather not get any reviews detailing the good aspects of her character. I know she has some sort of use but… I really don't care. She's just that one character that I saw—when I first watched/read Bleach—that I had this immediate gut reaction where I was like `Wow… I really don't like you.' That gut feeling has stayed with me since Bleach's inception.

 

But really, it can't just be me; I know that everyone must have that one character (in any anime) that they really don't like. Mine is Orihime. I really feel that if you turned up her crazy notch by about two she would totally go psycho.

 

Okay, I'm done. Remember, please no reviews telling me how bad of a person I am for making Orihime just a teensy bit psychotic. I won't care.

 

PLEASE DON'T FOREGET TO REVIEW!!!)