Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 30 ( Chapter 30 )

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

 

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 30

 

Orihime Inoue's fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress as she sat inside of her apartment and read her newest letter. It had seemed like forever since she had last received one. She had even begun to think that things were moving on without her.

 

That simply would not do.

 

After all, hadn't Mr. Schiffer told her that she was instrumental for this plan that was going on? Wasn't she the rook? She was needed for it to work. So why wasn't she being informed like they promised?

 

She bit her pouting lip and turned her head to the side while her fingers gingerly caressed the printed pages. Come to think of it, what was Mr. Schiffer doing, exactly? Was he taking pictures and following Mr. Kurosaki and that whore around? If so, where were these photos and why couldn't she see them? She wanted to know what that bitch had done to ensnare her Mr. Kurosaki. She wanted to know how she had desecrated his body to suit her own selfish needs.

 

Her eyes narrowed and she continued to bite her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over the pages once again. They were simple, typed pages with nothing extraordinary with which to distinguish them. She had checked for watermarks and the like but there was nothing. She sighed in frustration and told herself to ignore it. It wasn't her place to question things like this.

 

She was the rook, not the Queen.

 

Turning back to her paper, she read the letter for the fourth time.

 

Ms. Inoue,

 

Patience is a virtue and soon yours will begin to pay off.

 

However, before your final reward can be realized there are a few more things to be done. Attached is a plan for you to enact.

 

Should you fail to complete this task the entire operation will crumble and you will not have the reward you desire.

 

Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki.

 

Like all of the letters she had previously received, this one was not signed. However something like that mattered little to Orihime Inoue. She didn't care as long as she got what she wanted in the end. She flipped the neatly typed page over and carefully read the instructions. Her stomach did flips as she realized what she would be doing.

 

“Oh my,” she breathed, pressing one hand to her generous bosom while a slow smile curled around her perfectly pink lips.

 

She read over the details three more times before rising and taping in onto her refrigerator. She wouldn't have to act for another few weeks but having the paper there would keep her alert and watchful. She wanted to do her best when it came to this.

 

Slowly, she stretched out her body and began to hum a little tune, the scene playing out in her head while she mused.

 

*~*~*

 

Rukia's eyes watched as the door to the office opened and Ichigo walked in. She immediately shoved her head into her laptop computer once his first foot had made its entrance. Well, she hadn't shoved it literally, of course, but she needed something else to focus on other than the bobbing head of orange hair that was currently coming in her direction.

 

He shut the door behind him and sighed.

 

“Morning,” he muttered, his voice heavy in the early hours.

 

“Good morning,” Rukia squeaked back, her cheeks coloring slightly and her eyes still stubbornly focused on the paper in front of her.

 

Ichigo paused before he walked over to her desk, bent down, and swiftly pressed a kiss to her pink cheek. Rukia's head whipped up and she stared wide-eyed at him, gaping at his boldness and silently relishing the feel of his lips on her cheek.

 

“Ichigo!” She gasped, her liquid sapphire eyes staring up into his, “W-What was that for?”

 

He simply smirked down at her, “To get you to look at me.”

 

Rukia's eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “O-Oh.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You alright? You look a little… pink.”

 

“I'm fine,” she said as quickly as possible. “It's just a little warm in here.”

 

He grinned at her. “If you wanted we could make it warmer.”

 

Rukia shot him a death glare but couldn't help the small gleam of amusement that came into her eyes. “I think that if we did anything more that would increase the temperature our clothes would end up catching on fire.”

 

He leaned closer until his lips were brushing against hers, “Who says our clothes will be on?”

 

She grinned against him and shook her head lightly. “We need to get to work. We have all the time for upping the heat this weekend.”

 

He groaned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, “Fine… spoilsport.” He pulled away from her and trudged over to his desk. Rukia watched him go with her heart pounding heavily.

 

She immediately turned her head and tried to focus on her work.

 

That, of course, was completely impossible. She realized this once she started sneaking glances over at Ichigo every three minutes. Three minutes became two, two became one, and now she was a slave to his appealing appearance ever couple of seconds.

 

She growled angrily at herself and did everything she could to stop from pinching her arm. This was ridiculous. It was stupid. She needed to focus on her work. She couldn't start going off into la-la land whenever she wanted to just because Ichigo was there and looking extremely sexy in his suit.

 

He looks like that all the time! She screamed inwardly as she caught herself looking at him again. Why is this time any different?

 

She glared at her computer screen. She knew the answer to her question. She knew it very well.

 

It might have something to do with that feeling inside of her chest she received every single time she looked at him.

 

She shook her head and practically told herself to just ignore it. She needed to ignore it because, like everything else she was doing, it was completely ridiculous. She wasn't feeling that for Ichigo Kurosaki. She must simply be misinterpreting something like… ah… heartburn for that. Yes, that was it, it was just heartburn. Or acid reflux. Or… or…

 

She pressed her hand to her forehead as fear entered the pit of her belly.

 

Rukia was nearly about to propel her subconscious into the frightful analysis of what, exactly, that feeling inside of her chest was when there was a soft knock on the door.

 

God bless interruptions.

 

Ichigo's head rose and he frowned over at her. Rukia just shrugged and nodded her head towards the door. “Come in,” she called.

 

The door creaked open softly and after a moment a young woman with auburn hair and a very large chest passed over the threshold.

 

Never mind.

 

Rukia and Ichigo immediately looked back at their work and attempted to seem very, very, very, busy.

 

“Hello Mr. Kurosaki,” Inoue said in a chipper, happy voice. Rukia's blood simmered at her tone and she inwardly growled. She raised her head slightly and sent the young woman a soft glare. It wasn't threatening enough to look like an actual murderous threat but it was mean enough to look exceedingly evil.

 

“Hello Miss Inoue,” Ichigo muttered in an uninterested voice. Rukia looked over to him and grinned when she saw how intently he was staring at his blank papers.

 

“Hello Ms. Kuchiki,” Inoue said, her voice completely different from the one she had used to greet Ichigo. Her voice was slightly deadpanned and it was even edged in a few hostile overtones.

 

“Good morning Miss Inoue,” Rukia ground out, an unpleasant feeling running through the base of her stomach.

 

There was a pause in conversation as Inoue stood in the center of the room and rocked back and forth on her heels.

 

Oh Christ not this again, Rukia muttered mentally, recalling another time when she had had to pry the mediocre information out of Inoue. She narrowed her eyes and knew instinctively that she was just here to ogle Ichigo.

 

Her Ichigo.

 

“Did you need to tell us something, Ms. Inoue?” Rukia demanded through gritted teeth.

 

Her head snapped over to Rukia's and she could have sworn that murder was written in Inoue's eyes. The young woman's jaw was clamped shut, her gaze was narrowed, and her face was set in angry lines.

 

“Yes, actually,” she cleared her throat and held her hand up, displaying it only to Rukia since Ichigo still wasn't looking in her direction. “I was told to give these to you.” She walked stiffly over to Rukia's desk and tossed a small envelope on the top of her laptop. Rukia raised an eyebrow and monitored her progress as she strode over to Ichigo's desk, held the ticket in her hand, and waited for him to look up.

 

It took him two whole minutes.

 

“Hm?” He asked as he pulled his head up and stared blankly at Inoue, his face trying to convey the boredom that his brain must certainly not be feeling. Rukia knew that he hated it when Inoue came into their office. She knew the history between the two and she didn't blame him one bit. Inoue could be downright creepy when she wanted to be.

 

“Here's yours Mr. Kurosaki,” she purred, bending over just a bit more at the waist and proffering the small envelope, all the while pressing her mountainous breasts further into his space.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Ichigo grumbled, his hand reaching out to pluck the envelope from her grasp without actually touching her. Rukia watched the interaction intensely and could have sworn that Inoue twitched her hand just so her fingers would brush up against Ichigo's.

 

“What is it?” Rukia demanded, wanting to get Inoue's attention away from Ichigo… although she doubted it could be done.

 

Inoue looked straight at Ichigo—who was pointedly ignoring her gaze—while she spoke to Rukia. “It's an invitation to the office holiday party being held.”

 

Rukia raised an eyebrow and stared at the envelope. Sure enough, stamped on the front of it was the Suigetsu Inc. seal along with a small branch of green and gold embossed holly. Her name was written on the paper in elegant letters along with her position in the company. She flipped open the envelope and looked at the small ticket.

 

“`You have been invited to the annual Suigetsu Incorporated Holiday Party.'” She read softly, “`To be held from eight at night to two in the morning on Friday, December the nineteenth, dressy-casual attire is required.'” She raised an eyebrow and quickly flipped open her calendar on her computer. “Damn… that's only in… about two weeks.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and muttered softly to herself. “I can't believe it's already December. Christ, where has the fucking time gone?”

 

A voice from the other side of the room stopped her train of thought, “You shouldn't curse so much, you know.”

 

Rukia raised her head and blinked twice at the woman still standing dangerously close to Ichigo's desk.

 

She glared at her coldly and raised an eyebrow, “Was that all you had to tell us, Miss Inoue?”

 

Rukia's eyes followed her as she sidled closer to the wood of Ichigo's desk. She glanced over at Ichigo and saw her lover glower in irritation at the persistent young woman. He glanced over at Rukia and gave her an annoyed and exasperated glance.

 

Rukia returned the stare, simply stating that yes, the feeling was mutual.

 

“It was,” Inoue confirmed, reaching out and lightly tracing some patterns on Ichigo's desk. It was as if she wished it could be his chest.

 

Yeah, but I'm the only one who's allowed to do that, Rukia thought smugly.

 

She opened her mouth and said as politely as she could, considering the circumstances, “Well then, would you care to leave, we have a lot of work to be doing and your presence is a bit of a distraction.”

 

The look Inoue gave her could have cut though the hardest and deepest of ice.

 

Rukia just grinned.

 

“Of course Ms. Kuchiki.” She said, her voice harder than Rukia had ever heard it before. She stiffly strode to the door and opened it wide. Rukia watched her retreating back with smug satisfaction but scowled when the young woman left the door entirely open.

 

Growling, she stood up and stomped over to the damn thing and shut it with a very audible slam.

 

Ichigo exhaled at his desk and threw a hand over his face, “Christ! I think she just gets worse by the week.”

 

Rukia put her hands on her hips as she strode over to him. “It's your fault for making out with her in the first place.” She stopped in front of his desk and placed both hands on the top. She leaned forward so that her ass was sticking out and her breasts were clearly visible through the gap in her blouse.

 

Hey, if Inoue could do it, she could too.

 

She saw where Ichigo's gaze first went but had to give him commendation when his stare returned to her own eyes.

 

“That might be partly true,” he said, leaning forward as well until his lips were three inches away from hers. “If it weren't for the fact that she was the one constantly giving me alcohol that night at the Christmas party.”

 

“Oh really?” Rukia smirked, doing her best to parrot Ichigo's seemingly permanent look. Only it wasn't permanent, she knew that very well. He rarely scowled while sleeping and his orgasmic-scowl was very different from his run-of-the-mill everyday scowl.

 

“Really,” he said, “Every time she came around she was always holding another jello-shot or another beer for me. Not to mention it was Orihime Inoue who dragged me into this office.”

 

Rukia cocked an eyebrow, “This office?” She pointed a finger to the desk her hands were currently on and began to curl them in distaste.

 

“I made sure to put in a maintenance request to have the janitors thoroughly clean it,” he said breezily as his hands came out to capture her wrists. “But yeah, I was so drunk though, I probably would have made out with a monkey.”

 

“Hmm…” she murmured, sliding her hands out of Ichigo's grasp and walking around to his side of the desk. “You know, you made out with Inoue on this desk… I really don't know how I feel about that…”

 

She gave him a coy grin and moved until her body was in front of him. Ichigo obliged her by moving his desk chair back a bit. She ran her hot eyes over his form—so relaxed in his chair—and grinned when she saw the slight protrusion in his pants.

 

“What are you going to do about it?” Ichigo demanded, his throat constricting slightly.

 

Rukia grinned at the sound of his strangled question and slowly sat back on his desk. She propped one foot up on the chair directly in between his legs and spread her own legs just a little bit more. She watched him swallow hard and grinned even more.

 

“I think we're going to have to christen this desk ourselves.” She said calmly as she slowly reached up and pulled her hair out of its restrictive bun. She ran her fingers through the silken tresses and then dragged her hand down her neck to the front of her shirt. She watched Ichigo carefully as she unbuttoned the first two buttons; thus allowing her beige lace bra to show through.

 

His gulp was audible.

 

“I thought you didn't want us to do this type of stuff at work.” He commented hoarsely.

 

Rukia leaned forward and moved her arms so she could press her breasts together. Ichigo was almost salivating at the cleavage being shown.

 

She stopped moving only when her mouth was level with his ear. “Maybe, if you're a good boy and go lock the door, and maybe, if you're quiet enough, then… just maybe… I could take care of that little problem you have.” Her foot tapped against his rock-hard erection as she flicked her tongue out and slid it over the shell of his ear.

 

Ichigo shuddered violently and was out of his chair in less than a second. Rukia could barely blink before she heard the click of a lock and saw that Ichigo was back in his chair, his expression one of impatience and pain.

 

She grinned and slowly brought her hands to the side of her skirt. She hopped off of the desk and began to pull the zipper down. She watched Ichigo as he studied her fingers with the intensity of a student trying to ace an exam. His breathing increased as she pulled the zipper slowly over every single tooth. Her skirt dropped to the floor and she stepped forward. Her hands were on his buckle and without a single word being passed between them, she yanked open his pants and began to fondle his erection.

 

Rukia leaned down and whispered into Ichigo's ear. “How badly do you want me?”

 

Her tongue teased his earlobe and her hands worked up and down the smooth flesh of his hot erection as he stuttered and jerked, “B-badly—oh fuck baby… really bad.”

 

“I see,” Rukia grinned, pressing her thumb to the tip of his ripe penis. She grinned when he jerked in his seat and groaned. “Shh,” she warned, “I wouldn't want Inoue to hear us.”

 

“Let her hear,” Ichigo ground out, his hands finally coming to her hips as he hooked his thumbs into her underwear. “Maybe then she'll get the goddamn message.”

 

Rukia's underwear was around her ankles when she finally took the initiative to slowly climb onto his body. He shuddered violently when she grabbed his cock and dragged it over her slick folds.

 

“Well then,” Rukia murmured as her lips hovered over his, her hands on his cock, his hands on her hips, “Let's do this, shall we?”

 

*~*~*

 

Orihime glared at Mr. Kurosaki's office door and wondered what they were doing.

 

You're not wondering, her mind intoned, you know what they're doing.

 

“Patience,” she grumbled, her bottom lip pulling itself out into a pout. She sighed and returned to typing a memo on her computer, all the while trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that were plaguing her.

 

Ten minutes passed in relative peace when suddenly, a muffled shout drifted from the door at which she had been staring. Orihime's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open completely. Her fingers immediately stilled on the keyboard and she trained every last bit of her energy on that single door.

 

Silence.

 

She gaped and wildly looked around the hallway. No one else seemed to have heard it. They simply went along their merry way; they walked from copier to office, office to computer… and none of them had heard that damned sound!

 

Orihime pressed a hand to her forehead and wondered if she was imagining things. She probably was. Because, after all, it wouldn't be the first time. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the ever-increasing ire inside of her heart.

 

She couldn't.

 

How dare that whore seduce Mr. Kurosaki when he was trying very hard to get his work done? How dare she? The little harlot was probably just trying to distract him so he wouldn't be able to do his papers. Then she'd tell Mr. Aizen about it later and Mr. Kurosaki would get in trouble! All because of her!

 

Go! Her mind screamed, go and interrupt them! Expose them! Do what you should have done a long time ago!

 

Orihime gritted her teeth and shook her head against such thoughts and recalled the words that had been sustaining her ever since she had received her last letter.

 

“Patience is a virtue and soon yours will begin to pay off… However, before your final reward can be realized there are a more things to be done… attached is a plan for you to enact… Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki.”

 

Orihime smiled happily as she recalled the last line.

 

“`You, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki,'” she whispered gleefully. She raised her hands and clapped them together.

 

“You seem very well today, Ms. Inoue.”

 

She gasped slightly at the voice and nearly flipped out of her chair. Her pretty red hair whirled around her shoulders and she blinked her eyes innocently as she beheld the man before her.

 

“Mr. Ishida,” she said, her tone sugary and sweet, “How nice to see you. You hardly ever visit me anymore! I was beginning to think something was wrong!”

 

The pale and thin man wearing the metal-rimmed glasses bowed his head gently, his soft black hair falling into his face as he did so. “My apologies, Ms. Inoue, I've been very busy lately. The company has had some trouble with our Russian extension. I've been kept quiet distracted by them.”

 

Orihime tilted her head to the side and smiled beatifically. “Oh! Well, you're the best man for the job, I suppose then, Mr. Ishida!”

 

“Yes,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, “I suppose so…” his head trailed over to the side and he frowned at the door to Mr. Kurosaki office.

 

It belongs to the harlot too, her mind told her sourly and for a moment her perfectly happy face drifted away.

 

“I was wondering,” Mr. Ishida said politely, “If Kurosaki was busy. Would you happen to know Ms. Inoue?”

 

“Please,” she giggled, “How many times do I have to tell you Mr. Ishida? Call me Orihime.”

 

He bowed his head again but this time, she suspected, he did it to hide the bits of pink that tinged his cheeks. “I'm afraid I shall only start doing that when you start calling me Uryu, Ms. Inoue.”

 

What a giant bore, she thought as she mentally rolled her eyes, at least Mr. Kurosaki is a bit dangerous.

 

She grinned and tilted her head to the side, “Well then I guess we're at a stalemate, Mr. Ishida.” She giggled and pressed her neatly manicured fingers to her mouth.

 

“Yes,” he said, blushing and looking down at his toes, “I suppose we are.”

 

They stood there for several moments in an uncomfortable silence. At least, Orihime thought it was uncomfortable for Mr. Ishida, she was thinking about Mr. Kurosaki saving her from zombies.

 

“So,” he said after a few moments, unhappily snapping her out of her small reverie. “Do you believe that Kurosaki is busy?”

 

Orihime grinned, “I don't believe so… I mean no more than normal of course.” She allowed her face to become slightly dreamy, “He must work so hard.”

 

She ignored the small glint in Mr. Ishida's eyes. “Yes… he must. It is what Suigetsu Incorporated should expect from all of its employees.” He emphasized. He stood there for a few more seconds before clearing his throat and inclining his head towards the office. “Then I'll just go and see him… them.”

 

“Okay!” Orihime giggled. She raised her hand and waved as Mr. Ishida took off down the hallway.

 

Once he was out of her range of sight she put her hand down and rolled her eyes. Talking to that man was so tiresome. Did he have to be so in love with her? He knew that her heart was already taken. She had explained it to him before. Orihime frowned softly and went back to sitting at her computer. If she wanted a man who was spidery and pale and could sew and knit then she would have gotten him already. It wouldn't have been all that hard, if she was to be completely truthful. She knew how his eyes lingered on her form, how he smiled whenever she made jokes, and how his hands would clench at his side whenever he saw her wearing low cut shirts.

 

However those low cut shirts weren't for him, her laughs weren't for him, none of that was for anyone but Mr. Kurosaki.

 

She gritted her teeth and forced a smile onto her face.

 

Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki.

 

“Mrs. Orihime Kurosaki,” she said again, relishing the taste of the name on her tongue.

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo sat at his desk, his pen shaking lightly in his hand.

 

Rukia sat at her desk, completely calm.

 

Ichigo's breathing was slightly out of control and his heart was thumping at an irregular pace.

 

Rukia looked like she had calmly walked into the door.

 

Ichigo had sweat beading on his forehead.

 

Rukia's skin looked as clean as a newborns'.

 

Ichigo could not believe that she had just had sex with him… in their office… in his chair… on his desk.

 

Rukia Kuchiki had sex in an office building.

 

Was he dreaming?

 

He pinched himself to be sure. Nope, he was awake.

 

Ichigo blinked twice and raised his head to look over at Rukia. She looked absolutely no different than when she had first come in this morning. All cool and calm and sleek. There was absolutely nothing about her that would indicate that she had just had sex with another human being on the top of a desk in the middle of the morning.

 

“Did that really just happen?” Ichigo was surprised both that such a sentence actually came out of his mouth and that his voice croaked so badly he sounded like a frog.

 

Rukia coolly lifted her head from her desk and nodded slowly. “Of course.” She sent him a swift grin and went back to signing her name to a few papers. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and began to hum a little tune.

 

Ichigo's pen nearly dropped out of his hand.

 

“But you… but we…” he gaped and swallowed hard, trying to remember how all of this had started in the first place.

 

Rukia looked up again and raised an eyebrow, “Ichigo, we had sex on your desk… not but two minutes ago. You need to stop looking like you just saw a ghost.”

 

“I do not look like that,” he countered lamely, knowing perfectly well that he did. “I'm just… surprised, I guess.”

 

She tilted her head to the side, “About what?”

 

Ichigo had to fight to keep the muscles in his jaw working properly. “W-Well because… ah, you made it perfectly clear that we were never supposed to do any of that touchy-feely stuff at work.”

 

She raised both eyebrows this time, “Are you saying that it shouldn't have happened?”

 

“No!” He practically shouted, his hands gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. God-forbid if she ever took that kind of pleasure away from him. “It's just that… that… ah, I didn't peg you for someone who would do it at work, that's all.”

 

“Ichigo,” she smirked, “No one was around. The door was locked. It's not like we were going to be caught on tape or something.”

 

“I know,” he muttered, his face flushing at her logic—normally he was the one who had the more coherent thoughts during and after sex. “You just kind of surprised me, that's all. I'm not saying that was a bad thing because God knows it wasn't.”

 

She smiled softly and said, “Good,” before turning back to her work and flashing her pen back and forth across the paper. Another tune thrummed through her throat as she worked.

 

Ichigo just blinked at her.

 

He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual as he said, “Oh, and I forgot to mention, feel free to repeat that whenever you feel the need.”

 

She grinned but didn't look up. “Dork.”

 

Ichigo grinned as well but snorted in his defense, “Am not.”

 

“Are too,” Rukia chided as she turned over a paper. “But that's okay. It's how I like yo—my men.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and sent him another sultry look. “Dorky, domineering, damnable, and downright-sexy. How many more d's can I come up with?”

 

“Playing word games are we now?” He smirked. He leaned over his desk and inhaled discreetly. He caught the scent of sex practically seeping off of the wood.

 

“Well,” Rukia chuckled darkly, “I need to do something with my mouth now that it's no longer… occupied.”

 

Ichigo's stomach lurched and his playful grin dropped like a stone through water. “You could put it to better use right now.”

 

Rukia just shook her head and flicked her pointer finger back and forth, “Tsk, tsk, Kurosaki, didn't anyone ever tell you to save room for dessert later?”

 

“Sorry,” he smirked, “But my dad always told me I could have my cake and eat it too.”

 

“Is that what you'd like to do?” Rukia demanded in a sizzling tone, “Eat it?” She placed her elbows on the table and pushed her breasts into his view.

 

“Yes,” he answered immediately, pushing his chair back slightly and readying himself to get up.

 

Rukia was about to respond when she heard a sharp and quick knock on the door. She was out of her seat in less than a second.

 

“Coming,” she called and Ichigo thought he heard a soft note of panic in her voice. He gulped when he realized that they had never unlocked the door.

 

Oh shit… he mentally grumbled and prayed to whatever God was out there that she opened the door before whoever that was tried to open it from the outside.

 

Their luck prevailed as Rukia gently slid the lock out of place and opened the door in one quick move.

 

She stood silently at the door for a moment before Ichigo heard her say, “Hello Mr. Ishida, please come in.”

 

Ichigo felt like shooting someone. Particularly someone who wore glasses and liked to sew. He glowered softly as Rukia strode back into her seat and Uryu walked calmly into the office.

 

“Kurosaki,” he said in a voice that was stiff and unwelcoming.

 

“Ishida,” he grumbled back; if the man wanted formalities he'd sure as hell give him formalities. Ichigo sent him a dark glare and silently mourned for the lost second go-round with Rukia. His tongue was practically calling out for the sweet juices he would have been imbibing right now had it not been for this asshole.

 

Ichigo didn't even know what he wanted. They hadn't really spoken all that much since the merger announcement. Ichigo grimaced when he thought of Uryu still being mad at him for the whole Inoue thing. He silently recalled their last conversation about her and sighed.

 

Yep, the psycho-creep was probably the reason why he and Uryu had been so distant in the past few months.

 

“Kurosaki,” Uryu said, pulling Ichigo out of his brief trance, “I wanted to have a word with you about the merger and how it could affect our dealing with certain countries. Do you have time to go over it?”

 

“I'm kind of busy right now Ishida,” Ichigo growled, putting a little more emphasis on Uryu's surname than was necessary. “Maybe we can do it tomorrow.”

 

Uryu only craned his neck to look back at Rukia—who was pointedly ignoring their conversation—turned back to Ichigo, sniffed the pungent air, and raised one eyebrow.

 

“I'm sure that you and Ms. Kuchiki have been very busy, Kurosaki,” he said in a clear and clipping tone. Ichigo's eyes shot over to Rukia and saw that her cheeks had colored somewhat. Uryu brought him back with a sharp clearing of his throat, “However, this needs to be done today and I would appreciate it if you could take time away from your busy work schedules to oblige me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man sitting in the desk.

 

It took Ichigo all of three seconds to get out of his chair and stand in front of his friend. If he could even call him that anymore.

 

“Let's go jackass.” He snarled.

 

Uryu nodded his cool, pale, face once and turned towards the door. His hand was directly on the knob when a soft, calm, voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Mr. Ishida,” Rukia said, garnering the attention of both men in attendance. She didn't even look up from the papers she was signing, her pen didn't slow and her arm never wavered as she spoke.

 

“If you tell anyone about this, and I do mean anyone, I will personally work to completely ruin you.”

 

She paused her pen but didn't look up at either of them. “Do you understand?”

 

Ichigo shuddered at the amount of venom in her chilling voice. He had never heard such malice in her tone before. It made him almost fear for his own safety and reputation.

 

He glanced over at Uryu and saw that he had noticed the exact same thing. His friend gulped softly and nodded once. “Of course, Ms. Kuchiki. Of course.”

 

“I didn't ask you that,” she said just as vehemently as before, although somehow she managed to make the statement also sound breezy and cool. “I asked if you understood.” She finally raised her head and stared icebergs at Uryu Ishida. “Do you?”

 

He quailed silently under her stare but fought not to let it show. He nodded again and said, “I understand, Ms. Kuchiki, you have nothing to fear from me.”

 

“Excellent,” she said, her tone becoming airy once again. “Have fun sorting out the continents.”

 

She smiled sweetly at them and returned to signing the documents in front of her.

 

Ichigo and Uryu left without another word; although they both wore the same expression—fear mixed with awe.

 

As they walked down the hall Uryu turned to Ichigo and shook his head, “You have one scary girlfriend Kurosaki.”

 

Ichigo only grinned. “She's not my girlfriend Uryu. But yeah, I'm kind of surprised you didn't piss in your pants back there.”

 

“My bladder control is not the issue Ichigo,” he sighed after staring strangely at him for a moment. Ichigo fought to keep his face stoic as Uryu begrudgingly muttered his first name. “That woman though,” he pointed back to their office and shook his head. “Is… frightening.”

 

Ichigo just smirked, “You should see her in bed.”

 

Uryu smirked in return, “I doubt you'd ever let me.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

The two continued to walk down the hall together, talking about women, sex, and anything else that came to mind. As they strode Ichigo made a mental note to thank Rukia when he saw her again.

 

If not for her scary-as-shit face I wouldn't have my friend back, he thought, somewhat happy to have his slightly-queer companion back.

 

Ichigo grinned when he thought of all she had given him today.

 

Today was the best day ever.

 

*~*~*

 

Rukia moved into the lunchroom and quickly bought her salad and bottled water. The tuna sandwiches were rumored to be putrid today so she didn't even bother going over to check them out. She hummed lightly to herself as she paid that cashier and thanked him with a small smile. He grinned back as Rukia lightly strode away to her usual table.

 

Ichigo hadn't come back from his meeting with Uryu. She brushed a free hand through her hair and gently let it fall around her face. It was probably best that he stayed though. If Ichigo was away from her then that meant that she wouldn't be in danger of jumping him again.

 

Rukia's cheeks colored when she thought of what had happened between them. What she had instigated.

 

“Desk sex,” she muttered half-heartedly as she plopped into her seat. Her satiated center rubbed against the plastic of her seat through her clothing and she bit her lip to stop the sensations. “I can't believe I actually had desk sex.”

 

She sighed as she opened the plastic cover on top of her salad and poured on the cool dressing.

 

She should be thankful that Ichigo hadn't noticed anything else though. Although that really shouldn't have been surprising considering that he had a skull thicker than lead. He wouldn't have noticed the small things that she had done during their little bout on the desk. Hell, she hadn't even noticed that she had done them until afterwards.

 

She pushed her fork into her mouth and sighed. Things like massaging his scalp with the soft pads of her fingers, sensually kissing his neck, and squeezing him gently inside of her as he thrust himself inside of her were all things that had never happened whenever they had normal sex.

 

That is, animalistic sex.

 

Rukia swallowed and quietly wondered why more panic was not settling into her stomach. She should be panicking right now, shouldn't she? After all, realizing something that big was bound to warrant a bit of panic, wasn't it?

 

Wasn't it?

 

Rukia sat there, silently contemplating whether or not she should be nervous of the fact that there were no knots in her stomach. She was midway through her irritating meditation when a small shadow fell over the table. Her body stiffened as she recognized the trademark bun. She blinked twice.

 

“Momo,” she said slowly, careful to enunciate every syllable even though there were green leaves in her mouth.

 

There was a slight pause before she heard Momo swallow and say, “Are you ever going to speak to me again?” The horror inside of her tone was enough to melt Rukia's heart just a bit.

 

She raised her head and then allowed an eyebrow to follow in the same pattern. “I'm speaking to you now, aren't I?”

 

Momo stood before her, trembling slightly and clutching her purse like a lifeline. Rukia's eyes scanned her body and widened slightly when she analyzed what she saw. Momo looked gaunt. Her cheeks were a pale white and her normally rosy nose was dull. Her eyes looked heavy and dark purple shadows were clouding them even further.

 

Rukia blinked twice and swallowed her food. “You've really been beating yourself up about this, haven't you?”

 

Momo paused before she nodded once. She looked apprehensive; like at any moment Rukia was going to become a three-headed snake and rip her into tiny pieces.

 

Rukia sat silently for a few moments before she did something that she knew even Momo could not have predicted.

 

She smiled.

 

“It's okay Momo,” she nodded to the seat across from her and said, “Come on, get some lunch and we'll talk.”

 

Rukia barely blinked before she saw Momo's eyes fill with tears. “I thought you'd hate me.” She whispered throatily.

 

Momo was standing stock still in the middle of the cafeteria, her hands clutching her bag, tears brimming out of her eyes, and shivers constantly shooting down her spine. Before she knew was she was doing Rukia stood up from her chair and wrapped her arms around her best friend.

 

“Shh,” she whispered, rubbing her back with her hand as Momo placed her head on Rukia's shoulder. For some reason, the fact that they were in a very crowded eating area was of little consequence to Rukia. She ignored all of the stares that she normally would have paid attention to only a scant few months ago. “It's okay Momo,” she said as the woman's hot tears seeped through her clothing. “Don't worry about it.”

 

She slowly detached Momo from her shoulder and wiped her thumb under her drooping eyes, clearing away any tears that might have remained. “Come on,” she said, laughing half-heartedly, “For all the misery I've put you through over the years you certainly deserved a day to curse me out.”

 

“But I said so many awful things,” she blubbered as she sniffed like a little child. “I even brought up… you know… him.” She bit her lip and shook her head, “Even when you're angry with me you never mention any of my exes.”

 

“This is true,” Rukia agreed with a nod as she rubbed her best friend's shoulder, “But its okay, Momo, really. Everything is fine.”

 

Momo dug a fast-food napkin out of her purse and blew her nose into it. Rukia took a slight half-step back and dropped her hand from Momo's shoulder.

 

“You sure?” She asked, sniffling pathetically and staring at Rukia with eyes filled with salty-liquid.

 

Rukia just nodded, “I'm sure Momo. Really, I am.” She smiled and nodded to the food. “Go and get something to eat. We'll talk more after that.”

 

Momo sniffled again and nodded her head. She turned away from Rukia and began walking towards the food, slumping in a way that made it look like she had just gotten a scolding from her strict mother.

 

Rukia sighed and sat down in her uncomfortable seat. Trust Momo to be able to take guilt to a whole new level. The girl had practically wasted away in the twenty four hours that had elapsed since she had said all of those awful things to her.

 

She shoved another forkful of lettuce into her mouth and thought back to what Momo had said to her yesterday. All those things about Kaien… about being new at this whole loving thing… about how she was afraid… everything that she had said…

 

It had all been true.

 

Momo sat gingerly down in her seat and carefully placed her bag on the empty side of the table. She swallowed and sent skittering glances in Rukia's direction. Silently, she unwrapped her own salad, poured the dressing overtop, and began to nibble.

 

They sat like that for several minutes. Neither of them bothering to say a single word as they ate.

 

By the time lunch was nearly halfway finished Momo coughed in her throat and looked up at Rukia. She looked straight back at her friend and drew in a deep breath.

 

Through Rukia's mind ran every single time Momo had always been there for her; she thought of their days in college, their days starting out at work, and of today. She thought of all the times that Momo had let her use her shoulder to cry on when the memories became too painful to bear. She thought of all the times they had laughed at television shows while they stuffed their faces with too much ice cream. She thought of their Sunday runs and how Momo was always trying to get her to notice men. All of these things were present in her mind as she stared deeply at her best friend, wondering, pondering, and seriously contemplating whether or not she should disclose something so earth-shatteringly personal that it had the potential to make or break both their friendship and their lives.

 

“Oh screw it,” she sighed and she placed her fork strategically on the table, aligning it with her napkin just so. Rukia put her hands on the table and folded them together. She straightened her spine, cleared her throat, and set her clear, sapphire eyes, on her best friend.

 

“Momo,” she began.

 

The young woman sat up straighter in her chair and leaned forward. Her eyes looked painfully hungry to regain the trust she had damaged yesterday. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled fitfully. “Yes?” She asked calmly, although Rukia could tell she was breathless with anticipation.

 

Rukia bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard.

 

She could do this.

 

“I have something to tell you.”

 

 

 

 

(A/N: Okay, I know it's time to update when I get personal emails from people begging me. To those who did, thank you, I've been so busy that I've completely forgotten.

 

Also, on a side note, I have written basically nil in the past two months. I'm currently slapping my wrist in agitation yet it is true. So chapters might be less frequent than the current less frequent. Ah… sorry. Although I did write today… if that's any consolation.

 

Anyway, a bit of Inoue and Ishida in this chapter. Finally got to them. Hope everyone enjoyed it!

 

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!

 

BTW, this fic is getting very close to page 600 on Microsoft word. Just thought I'd let you know. :D )