Title: The Most Dangerous Things

Warning: Non-canon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Authorial Notice:

COVER ART is a piece I commissioned from the lovely Norita-chan on dA. The original can be found here - browse. deviantart ?qh=§ion=&global=1&q=child-of-the-ashes#/d50uj8b (remove spaces)

This is not what I'm supposed to be working on, but I couldn't help it :) Rating will go up.

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Chapter One

Ichigo glared at the road in front of him, slamming the gearshift into place before hitting the accelerator. The car leapt forward, pressing him back into the seat with a satisfying purr. Faster. Fifty-five. Sixty-five. He hit the brakes, taking a corner quicker than could safely be considered smart, but he was way past stupid or smart.

Just what the hell was she thinking?

Seven years. Seven years he had known her, but never had he seen this coming. Not when everyone else in high school had started dating. Not when they got to college and he had started dating. Not even when it seemed like everyone around them was jumping each other like rabbits.

She had just seemed so above that, above all the stupid shit everyone else was doing. Orihime wasn't the kind of girl that slept with any guy that looked her way. She just wasn't. And never once had it occurred to him that she might want to be.

That was something he was still trying to wrap his head around. So much so, that when Tatsuki had dropped that Inoue had gone looking for a summer fling, it hadn't really registered. He had just stared at her, trying to piece together words and thoughts that didn't seem to fit. Then she had rolled her eyes and told him what was going on.

That was when he had started to get angry.

So what if they were about to graduate and she was still a virgin. It was Inoue. And even if it had surprised him to know that she wasn't happy about it, it hadn't shocked him to find out that she was. They all looked out for her, made certain that anyone glancing her way knew she wasn't that kind of girl.

But now, she seemed to think she was ready to get her feet wet in that department. With another guy…

Back teeth grinding and knuckles white on the steering wheel, he almost groaned in relief when the sign for the beach turnoff came into view, but that didn't slow him down.

The gate attendant stumbled back as his car whipped through. Let him call the police, they could have his body if they wanted it. He wasn't stopping.

Ichigo shoved a hand through his hair, counting numbers as they flashed by until he spotted the one he wanted. The car slid into the driveway, skidding on the pea gravel of the Arisawa's beach house. He didn't remember leaving the car, but suddenly it was behind him, quickly fading into the background.

He paused for a split second, narrowing his eyes before he found what he was looking for and took off again. He stalked across the grass, casting a glance at the beach house before dismissing it. She wasn't there.

Just what the hell was she thinking?

And here of all places. It was only a few miles outside Karakura. Didn't she know that people talked? Did she want to ruin her reputation? But the answer to that was obvious.

Yes, she most definitely did.

His jaw ticked and he tried to control his temper as he dodged through a group of giggling high school girls. The small shops that littered this part of the front were packed out, people everywhere, but he knew exactly what he was looking for. Who he was looking for.

It was then, coming around the corner of the boathouse that he saw her and jerked to a stop.

The heat flowing under his skin doubled as his eyes flicked over her, a torrent of adrenaline lashing into his system, practically causing his blood to buzz in his veins.

He cursed between his teeth.

Smooth skin, lithe muscle, curves barely covered by that thing that was probably supposed to pass as a bathing suit. She might as well have been naked.

Auburn hair cascaded in long loose curls down her back and shoulders; the top of her white two-piece stretched tight, revealing sleek, fluid lines slipping down a toned stomach and thighs, bare except for the tie at her hip, and then nothing but soft skin until her painted toes dug into the sand under her feet.

Fuck. White. At the beach. Where she would be wet. Was she trying to get raped?

His heart pounded in his temples, a steady tick, counting down the seconds until he lost it. He had never seen her put her body on display.

But now, she was.

For someone else—

He cut the thought off, smashing it down with his temper until he could think straight again.

And apparently, she was far better at attracting attention than she had thought. Her embarrassment was obvious as she tried to extricate herself as delicately as possible.

She was surrounded.

He took that in with calm, cold clarity, counting heads as the anger twisted, tightened into rage so deep he could hardly feel it any longer; which was strange, because that seemed to be the moment she did.

Orihime's confused grey eyes locked with his from across the beach and she jumped, shocked out of whatever she had been saying. Her lips parted, dragging in a startled breath until she shook herself, turning to look at the guy that was trying to reclaim her attention.

He scanned the eager group around her, making notes on who would be a problem and who wouldn't. There were five of them. Didn't matter. He had taken worse odds.

Still, he waited, let her flounder and try excuse herself only to be pulled back into conversation. Her gaze kept darting back to him and he was more than a little gratified to see it filled with trepidation.

The thought of some random guy putting his hands on her made him itch to see blood. It had been enough to push him over edge, to take off after her. He'd lock her up if he needed to, anything until she saw sense.

She wouldn't like it, but he wasn't asking permission.

()()()

Orihime tried not to look. She tried not to feel Ichigo watching her.

What was he doing here? The entire point of coming to the Arisawa's beach house was to get as far away from him as possible. Now, he was storming across the sand with all the ominous, dark energy of an impending tsunami.

How did he even know where to find her?

A trembling set into her bones, a chill that skittered down her arms, causing the fine hairs there to stand on end. There was no way he would do anything here, right? Not when she was surrounded by witnesses.

That did nothing to make her feel better.

She stuttered out a response to the latest question, trying to keep her eyes trained on who was speaking to her instead of flying back to the angry death god who was radiating so much violent energy that Orihime was surprised the ground wasn't shaking as he moved forward.

Ichigo wasn't stopping and wasn't slowing down, and she was trying so hard not to look. Then he was there beside her, stepping into her personal space, closer than anyone else had dared and suddenly, she couldn't have met his eyes for anything.

Orihime hadn't felt underdressed before that moment, hadn't been embarrassed, but with his eyes on her, she couldn't stop her arms crossing over her chest, couldn't stop the nervous, fidgeting dance her legs seemed to be performing.

"We need to talk."

His voice was clipped and flat. Orihime could feel it slip over her shoulders, sliding down her bare spine like an ice-cold feather. She shivered.

Kurosaki-kun was angry.

He ignored the other men completely, something which seemed to rankle a few of them the wrong way. The smarter three faded into the background, disappearing with a clear idea of the direction things were headed.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…" She flashed him her brightest smile without actually meeting his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, pal—"

Orihime panicked as the hand entered her field of vision, headed straight for Ichigo's shoulder. She grabbed it, stopping its journey without thinking, jumping at the lash of riatsu when her hand closed around his. She dropped it as if it had shocked her.

"Ah! I think that I would like to talk to him. Please, excuse us!"

The man that had introduced himself as Kiyoshi was looking pale and green tinged, slouching like he wanted to throw up. The one that had made a grab for Ichigo, Isamu-kun, she thought, seemed to have a bit more spiritual endurance. Still, he looked slightly confused, a stunned expression clouding his face. She smiled wider, waving her arms until, at last, they moved away.

"Care to tell me what the hell it is you think you're doing?" Ichigo hissed over her shoulder.

Orihime swallowed and turned.

How much did he suspect?

"I was making friends."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I saw."

Ichigo tore his eyes off her body, looking over her head, down the beach, anywhere but at her. Damn. She had no idea that he could clearly see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric. And knowing she wanted sex was putting all sorts of impure thoughts in his head.

Desire and anger. A dangerous combination.

She fidgeted in front of him and Ichigo saw a male head turn, crafty eyes skimming her form. He frowned, shifting in time to catch another man, older this time.

He spat another vicious curse before catching her upper arms, pulling Orihime flush against him.

It was only meant to be a possessive gesture, an arm around the shoulders, a hand on the waist. Instead, he found himself kissing her.

There wasn't any thought of it before hand, but once it was happening he couldn't seem to stop. She went rigid, as surprised as he was, tensing into tight little knots before her startled squeak turned into something deeper, more feminine as her muscles went soft under his hands.

Orihime's half-whimpered sigh parted her lips, surrendering, yielding beautifully, and he pressed forward, sweeping into her mouth, feeling the brush of her soft tongue. It was like being shot with a bolt of lightning. He groaned against her mouth, shocked at the intensity of it. Which was stupid, because he should have known that kissing Orihime wouldn't be like kissing any other girl. She had never been like any other girl.

Damn. He had to get away from her. This was fucking dangerous to his sanity.

He kept his arms locked, supporting her weight and making sure her mouth stayed fused with his.

Ichigo had never been big on public affection, but for a moment, he completely forgot where he was, forgot why he had started this in the first place. Heat hit him hard, low in the pit of his stomach, tightening his gut, before pouring south. Hunger, savage and primal, fought for control as his hands tangled into her hair.

He could feel his body throbbing, and fuck, it was just a kiss. But he had wondered, he had always wondered.

He needed to let go.

Ichigo struggled to remind himself that they were still on the beach, still surrounded by people on all sides. He pulled back, fighting to catch his breath, watching Orihime's dazed eyes flutter up to his. They were so bright that he could see himself in them.

This time when he looked out, men glanced away, avoiding his gaze.

He had made his point. She wasn't on the market.

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TBC.

Ahh! I'm pretty sure I butchered Ichigo's character in this, but it was sure fun to write!

Not sure when I'll update this. Just had to get this first scene out of my head, so I could concentrate on other things :) But there is an actual story to this somewhere up there… Don't you hate it when that happens?