AN: don't own Bleach. Oh and there is a reason for the rating. Enjoy :)
Summary: Desperate to help Ichigo control his inner Hollow, Rukia runs to Urahara for guidance...but what she doesn't expect is the price he asks of her.
"How may I help you, Ms. Kuchiki?"
"You know why I'm here," she spoke calmly, betraying nothing in her manner to indicate the gravity of the situation, still, her eyes rested on the tall sandy-blond haired man waving a paper fan breezily even though the air was chilly being not the least unseasonable for the time of year.
"Maybe." Kisuke teased, snapping the folds shut briskly, then, coyly peering over the top of the closed fan into her face, seeing the inner worry she tried so hard to hide. "Ichigo is it?" he spoke knowledgably, which she assented with a curt nod.
"Can you help him?" there she had said it. Nobody knew she was here, nobody thought she'd be so bold as to address the sole person responsible for the monster born inside the deputy Soul reaper. A fact he never denied nor accounted for and probably wouldn't ever, she thought, keeping the ex Captain in sight while he paced a few steps, presumably deep in thought.
"Perhaps…I can help young Ichigo—"
"Uh huh," she interrupted impatiently, eager to leave the confines of the dusty shop. Kisuke suddenly stopped pacing, his face in partial shadow turned toward her, "but…Ms. Kuchiki, what are you willing to give me in return?"
"Oh that's easy," she dismissed airily, "how much do you want?" Figuring on the greed complex of the Shoten owner, a great sum to be named. Kisuke smiled a little, shaking his head at her naivety, "you don't understand. It's not money I want."
He had her there.
"Not…money? Then what?" her mouth creased into a confused frown, as her mind suspicious always of his motives bandied about other things he might possibly be interested in. "If it's with Soul society, I can't help you there…"
How she hated his twisted little games. "Fine," her eyes rolled to the ceiling then back to him, "a new hat."
"No. Guess again."
"Something for Yoruichi."
In desperation, Rukia opened and closed her mouth several times, each time the words dying in her throat. Finally she gestured wildly, "I don't know…me."
Kisuke was quiet, so quiet that she wondered the reason.
If her guess was wrong then he should just say so.
After a long moment, he shifted, shrugging luxuriantly, "you got me."
A humorless laugh startled her; Kisuke had used a flash step to cover the distance between them. "Surprised…" he smiled faintly, "no?" He caught the hand that shot out meaning to push him away. Rukia at once alarmed refused to show it and stared boldly up into his indiscernible expression. "Just what the hell do you mean, Urahara?"
"Exactly how it sounds, Ms. Kuchiki." The ex Captain's smile grew wider at the ferocity blazing in her eyes, with minimal effort he pulled her closer to whisper softly against her earlobe, "one night is all I ask and then you'll have my full cooperation in doing whatever I can for Ichigo."
Her body grew taut and she yanked away, stepping back, "you're mad."
Kisuke turned to the side, listening to the heavy tread of Tessai coming back from an errand, so that only one half of his face was visible to her.
"Take it or leave it."
"No." Rukia spun on her heel and had gone halfway through the aisle before his voice stopped her.
"Remember, Ms. Kuchiki, there is always a price."
Her head dropped, her hands clenched in the way her jaw might have even though no trace of anger blurred her words, "when?"
Kisuke drew out his fan once again, "tomorrow night. I can arrange for the shop to be empty."
He watched her leave, an invisible burden weighing down her shoulders like a millstone.
The appointed time came sooner then she had expected. The morning passing by in the blink of an eye, questions about her well being asked when her face was averted and her mood pensive; had she really agreed to a rendezvous with Kisuke Urahara?
What had possessed her to do such a thing?
Rukia's eyes traveled over to the slumped form of the deputy Soul reaper, his head on the desktop, her friend and then she remembered.
It was for him.
All for him…
Kisuke let her in the front entrance. The store shelves covered with sheets lending an aura of gloom to the dimly lit room. Rukia had worn her school uniform, hoping for no sick fetish other than what she wore to present itself during the night. Kisuke eyed her up and down approvingly, "pleasant night, Ms. Kuchiki—or may I address you as Rukia?"
"I don't care." Her arms were crossed resolutely over the gray jacket. Kisuke saw the grim determination in her face and chuckled shortly. "Come along. There's a room prepared in the back." He led her into the maze of small rooms connected by a hallway, with every step her trepidation grew.
What had she gotten herself into?
The room was bare with only a cotton mattress on the floor and the sheets rolled back, not even a pillow. Oh well she supposed it was only for sex and that meant sleep wasn't in the plan.
"Is this your first time?" Kisuke asked quietly behind her.
"No!" she turned on him, "and not with Ichigo!"
"Oh…" the ex Captain fit the key in the lock, leaving it to dangle there, "I was on the verge of a jealous fit. Assuming of course that you had given it up to the unworthy Mr. Kurosaki."
"Cut the crap, Kisuke, and get on with it!" Rukia snapped, turning her back once more; then was startled by the possessive arms that wrapped around her middle suddenly, a moist mouth following to plant a trail of light sucks on the sensitive skin of her throat.
"Uh…unh…wait!" she twisted in his hold, her cheeks burning.
"What's the matter?" Kisuke sounded amused.
Rukia glared, then shook her head, "never mind."
"If you say so…" he took her in his arms again, nipping as well as sucking, his breath warmed her skin and her eyes closed, the sensation of warmth spreading from her belly downward. She wiggled a little against him and he mumbled something that she didn't understand, on her throat.
"Wha…unh…uh…" soft moans left her parted lips, a moistness leaked out into the crotch of her panties and her eyes flew open, her hand to her mouth.
Her heart pounded and her body felt strangely…limpid and hot.
"N-Nothing. Let's get on with it."
Roughly he folded her against him, his hand shoving up her skirt to the elastic waistband of her panties. "Hey, do—" her words died in her throat when he plunged in, unmindful of the sudden flinch from the touching of her tender parts. Fire ran along the skin that his fingers stroked, her resistance crumbled away at the entry of his forefinger inside.
"You're almost ready," he commented sounding surprised for once. She didn't answer rather couldn't for the explosive heat enveloping her clit as he vigorously pumped her. "Aahh…Kisuke…unh…" his name left her lips like a prayer feeling the wet folds part, more digits entering. Deeper, harder, the pressure was beginning to become unbearable, her legs spread apart, the panties pooling at her feet. Her body suddenly tightened, he held her and then she climaxed, the fluid trailing down the insides of her thighs and oozing from his fingers.
Rukia was breathless for a moment, her chest heaving, her eyes went to the blatant evidence of her immediate sexual arousal and then rose to the faint smile on the ex Captain's face. She inhaled sharply, backing up until the backs of her heels met the side of the thin mattress, letting herself sink down. She lay back, opening her legs wide to his gaze.
"Well?" she snapped, "aren't you going to fuck me?"
An eyebrow cocked, "tsk, impatient as ever, Ms. Kuchiki," Kisuke murmured, untying the sash from his pants.
Rukia was unable to keep from smiling a little at the teasing note his voice carried.
AN: :) wanted to try something different and there you have it! :) Reviews are appreciated.