"Sometimes," Urahara said thoughtfully, "I see myself as a cat's chew-toy."
There was no response.
He repeated it more loudly.
"Mm?" Yoruichi said. She rolled off his stomach, and licked her lips.
"I am the plaything of fate," Urahara said. "The chew-toy of feline destiny. You pick me up by the scruff of my neck, drag me down here, and eat sashimi off my naked body."
"Your arguments would be more convincing," Yoruichi said, "if you hadn't been the one who ordered the sashimi."
"And that's another point!" Urahara protested. "Salmon. I don't like salmon."
"I do," Yoruichi said, and draped a piece of it across his chest.
"Not for long."
"I regret the day you discovered pornography," Urahara said gravely, and folded his arms behind his head, letting Yoruichi nibble the salmon sashimi off his chest.
"Rubbish," Yoruichi said. She flicked her tongue round her lips again. "Eating sashimi off your naked body is comparatively mild. Licking wine off your neck and chest is positively bland. If I really wanted to drag you kicking and screaming into the depths of depravity . . ."
"Yes?" said Urahara hopefully.
"I'd find you were already there." Yoruichi smiled.
"One gets a reputation," Urahara said modestly. "Does this mean I'm now allowed to eat sashimi off your naked body?"
"Not till I've finished the salmon," Yoruichi said. "Besides, you don't like salmon."
"I could force myself."
"No you couldn't." She dropped another piece of it, cold and floppy, across his belly.
"As long as you save the eel for me," Urahara said, smiling at the ceiling. "And don't lick the sauce. I have plans for the sauce."
Yoruichi lay there for a full minute, revolving possible answers, before giving up and returning to the salmon sashimi.