A/N: Well, here it is, the epilogue you so kindly asked for. This, unlike the epilogue for Tossed Aside is set some years down the road in Hitsugaya's and Matsumoto's relationship and consists of nothing but enough fluff to put bunny slippers out of business. The line at the end of the chapter is a take off from a statement made in Chapter Eight of Tossed Aside and it seemed to fit wonderfully.
Epilogue: One Hundred Years Later
Hitsugaya Toshirō rubbed the sleep out of eyes, shaking his snow white head back and forth as he tried to focus once more on his paperwork. It was rather hard to do so however, when he was conspicuously missing the large mug of tea that always got him through nights of late paperwork like this. He was also missing the woman who usually prepared the tea for him more than he cared to admit.
Where is Matsumoto? Hitsugaya wondered, blinking at the snow-covered windowpane. He suddenly noticed how dark it was, both inside and outside the office. Scrunching his nose up at the prospect of more paperwork, he dipped his pen back in the inkpot, figuring it would be best just to get it over with.
He was so intent on finishing that he barely paid attention to the quiet opening and closing of the office door. It wasn't until two elegant hands with perfectly pink manicured nails covered his eyes and a voice cooed, "Guess who, Taichō?" in his ear that he truly registered the presence of another person in his office.
"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya growled, more to distract himself from the fact that her breasts were pressed against his back and her warmth was incredibly enticing compared to the chill of the winter's night.
"Where have you been?" he demanded, reaching up to tug on one of the long silk sleeves that was hanging in his face. He left his hand on her sleeve as she uncovered his eyes with a giggle. Turning in his seat, he realized that she was wearing a beautiful turquoise-silk kimono with what appeared to be a warm under-layer and a simple sash instead of the complicated obi usually worn with such garments.
He raised an eyebrow at her stunning, but slightly confusing state of dress. "Did I miss a special occasion memo?"
She shook her fabulous hair at him. "No, but I'm still surprised you forgot all the same."
She jutted out her bottom lip slightly in the pout he had come both to despise and adore over the years. It meant the hurried retreat of any willpower he had left to resist her, though it also generally meant he would significantly enjoy whatever scheme she had cooked up for the two of them.
She brushed a warm hand down his cheek, smiling softly when he turned his head slightly and kissed her palm, the frown still creasing his brow.
"Well?" he inquired petulantly, delighting Matsumoto that she could still catch a glimpse of the stubborn boy she had fallen in love with almost a century ago.
"How can you forget your own birthday, Toshirō?" she asked earnestly. "You never forget mine."
Hitsugaya turned away from her, picking up the pen, wanting to finish signing the last papers.
"Yours means more to me," he grunted, the quiet statement punctuated by the scratching of the pen on the penultimate piece of paper.
Matsumoto sighed, perching herself on the desk. "But I wanted to celebrate," she protested as he finished signing the last piece of paper. "Did you eat anything at all today after I left for lunch?"
Hitsugaya leaned back in his chair and shook his head.
"Aren't you hungry?" she asked, still slightly astonished that he could go for over four hours at a time without food and forever without sake.
"Yes," he replied absentmindedly. The truth was that he was hungry, but the sight of Matsumoto perched on his desk, one endless leg completely exposed from the folds of the kimono he knew she had purposefully tied in such a seductive manner was making his appetite for food dwindle sharply as his appetite for her peaked.
He bit back a frustrated groan as she slid off the desk, walking around to retrieve what appeared to be a large basket from beside the front door. "I brought food!" she said happily, reveling in the way she knew him so well.
Hitsugaya could not help but pull a face. Matsumoto wasn't exactly known for her cooking ability.
"Don't worry; it's some left over bentou and rice from dinner." She deposited the basket next to her on the large oak desk and retrieved some of its contents. Hitsugaya grudgingly allowed Matsumoto to flirtatiously feed him, laughing at the look on his face.
She bent down to remove a piece of rice from his lips, only to let in a sharp breath as he took her index finger and slowly sucked the piece of rice off of it, all the while staring at her with those commanding turquoise eyes.
He stood up slowly from his chair, keeping her hand held in his, his fingers brushing over her jumping pulse. Matsumoto blinked up into his face as he stood over her. She remembered with fondness the time, over a hundred years before, when he could not kiss her without blushing and his head barely passed her cleavage. Now, he was good four inches taller than her, just as he always swore he would be.
Hitsugaya drew her closer, covering her lips with his own.
Matsumoto pulled his head down further, to allow her better access to his mouth, smiling into the kiss when she felt his hands grip her hips and slide her to closer to the edge of the desk. His lips left hers, trailing down her throat, nibbling faintly here and there. She gasped when his slightly cool palm found the warm skin of the leg she had left bare, just for him. Hitsugaya ran his hand down the smooth flesh as he wrapped it around his waist, allowing her to feel what she could still do so easily to him.
He groaned appreciatively as she rocked slightly against him, white heat flaring behind his eyelids. She captured his lips once more, arching against him as his hand feathered the side of her breast. Matsumoto broke the kiss with great reluctance.
"Rangiku," Hitsugaya breathed, insistently pulling her flush against him but he was stopped as she put a slightly shaking hand on his chest.
"Your birthday present is in your quarters, Toshirō," she said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.
"I was hoping it was already sitting on my desk," he retorted, more frustrated than ever.
"But you can have me any old time," Matsumoto replied, kissing him softly on the nose, which he had wrinkled in the way she absolutely loved.
"Say I wanted you now," Hitsugaya returned insistently, drawing her off the desk and sliding her body deliberately down his, trying to make her notice, if she'd missed it before, how badly he wanted her.
She giggled softly. "Then," she sighed seductively, "I would say, who could refuse the birthday boy?"
She laced their fingers together, and began to lead him slowly, sashaying her hips seductively, toward the stairs which led to his quarters above the office.
Hitsugaya let out an intolerant snort and swept Matsumoto into his arms, taking the stairs two at a time. He kissed her fervently on the landing, setting her on her feet in order to allow him to find the key he had placed in his haori earlier that morning.
"Um, Toshirō?" Matsumoto said hesitantly, more than a little breathless. "I might have slipped that key out of your pocket so I could deliver your present earlier…"
Hitsugaya growled impatiently, reaching for her once more.
Matsumoto wondered idly if he was going to take her right there, something she really wouldn't have minded at all, when something happened that had never happened to Matsumoto before…
They broke the door down.
A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I ask kindly that you leave just one more for me. I don't have any other stories planned in the Bleach world right now except for a one shot IshiHime that I've been sitting on since spring. However, if one of you were to request something specific and do it sweetly, I would probably consider writing it.
Until we meet again,