Beautiful Monster

In her eyes
There's love and fire
In my heart
She's burning through
But I don't mind
In fact I like it
Though I'm terrified
I'm turned on but scared of you

She's a monster
Beautiful monster
Beautiful monster
But I don't mind
And I need her
Said I need her
Beautiful monster
But I don't mind
No I don't mind

Playing with my heart
And she's playing with my mind

And I don't mind I don't I don't mind
No I don't mind I don't I don't mind
No I don't mind I don't I don't mind
No I don't mind I don't I don't mind

Lyrics from "Beautiful Monster" by Ne-Yo.


A/N: This was intended to be a chapter in one of my other fics, but, it didn't fit with the mood. However, I quite like it, and I think it made for a nice little one-shot.

Please enjoy and review!
-Rachel Noelle


Suddenly, one day, out of the blue, she leans close to him and whispers, "I'm going to take you home someday." And he shivers. She smiles cattily, enticingly and his cheeks heat to a bright red.

He's not embarrassed because of her words, but because he'd love nothing more than for her to 'take him home.' But as soon as she says it, she's moved onto whatever catches her fancy next. And since it's the end of the day, he's left to stalk home and turn on the cold water tap on his shower. As he soothes his aching groin he imagines her, sees her dancing in his mind, lying in wait for him in his bed.

He loses his footing and slips, catching himself before tumbling over. Now he has more than one reason to be embarrassed. Still blushing furiously as he dries, he decides to try to relax with a book.

And though the book is gripping, his attention keeps returning to the buxom woman who serves as his second. He considers this game they've been playing for several months now, how she likes to tease him and taunt him, and he thinks that he doesn't mind it much. He's noticed, because it's the sort of thing he couldn't miss by watching her for so long, that she's very loyal to teasing only him in this manner.

She consistently taunts him with lewd suggestions – a little note left on her stack of completed paperwork (which gave him two reasons to nearly fall out of his chair), the way she wears her uniform top a little loser when it's just the two of them, how she sits on his desk and casually leans over to pick at some nonexistent flaw in the fabric of her hakama, always drawing the fabric higher up her leg when she sits back up.

The room gets warmer around them every time she does something. He wonders if she's noticed. He guesses that, being Rangiku, she's already picked up on that, and that's why her teasing has only increased. His bedroom gets just a bit warmer as he continues thinking about her. Before long, he can no longer control the urges, servicing himself and finally relaxing enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, she greets him at the office – early to work, which is surprising enough. But, she is wearing a dress that is certainly not a standard shinigami-issue uniform. He feels a knot in his throat as he tries to act as though it's not an issue, and he has no qualms or uneasiness about the garment. Even though it bares much of her legs, well above the knees.

"Taicho," she says, startling him some, making him blush when he realizes he's been staring, "I wanted to ask you to go out with me tonight. There's a new club in Rukongai that has Western style music and dancing." He watches her clasp her hands behind her back and toe the ground nervously. He manages to swallow the lump in his throat and deter his attention from her body long enough to speak.

"Sure, Matsumoto. I promised I'd go out with you the next time you went, since you… completed all of… your paperwork," he speaks slowly, deliberately trying not to slur his words together.

She squeals delightedly and hugs him. He is again surprised as the day passes and becomes evening, and Rangiku has actually bothered to complete her work. She asks him if he's ready to leave, and he nods silently then follows her out the door.

As he watches her dance, he notices how gracefully she moves about the floor, getting into the music as if there's no one looking. She attempts to drag him onto the floor, too, but he refuses to go, preferring to avoid possible embarrassment. And not from his inability to dance.

She sighs and shrugs sadly, then heads off to the bar for another drink. He watches her walk, her hips swaying back and forth enticingly. He laughs as a few men standing around the bar walk away, their shoulders drooped in defeat.

Perhaps she's had one too many drinks, for when she comes back she sits in his lap with him, on his chair. He doesn't dare touch her, for fear of what might happen if he does. So he lets his hands hang to his sides, attempting to keep her from moving too much with telepathy. It doesn't work.

She turns around, straddling him, and sets her drink roughly on the table nearest, sloshing some of it out with the force. His head tells him to run. But the rest of his body disagrees completely, rendering him unable to move. She attacks him with a barrage of kisses aimed at his face, peppering his skin with the stain from her lipstick.

Her mouth finds his, and they begin sharing a kiss. She mumbles something about how soft his lips are, and the breath hitting his cool skin sends electric shocks through him. She deepens the kiss and he swears that if he had enough willpower left he'd have them in his bed in only three steps of shunpo.

After a glorious eternity, she pulls away from him, smiling, happily dazed. "Mmm…" she sighs, "That was great, Toshiro. You're a quick learner." She sighs again and rests her head in the crook of his neck. He feels a soft press of lips to his neck, giving him another shiver, and then a short pang of pain as she bites him, marking him as hers.

He lets out a quiet moan and moves his head and uses his hands, still tangled in her hair, so that their lips meet again. After more making-out, she pulls away and looks him in the eye. "You are amazing, Toshiro," she pronounces each word staccato, and he neglects to remember his pet peeve of being addressed by title. She rests her head on his shoulder now and says, "I'm sleepy, Toshiro. I think we should go home now."

He sighs. It's meant to be contented, happy, and relieved. He knows that this is, essentially, the end to their night. He is grateful, because he doesn't want her giving herself to him, or him to her, when one of them is intoxicated. No matter how little.

So, nobly, he sees her home and makes sure she's settled, no longer wobbly walking around in her heels. He says goodbye with a sweet kiss on her cheek, and returns to his own quarters to dream of her throughout the night.

When they meet in the office the next morning, she acts no different than any other morning. He wonders up until lunchtime if perhaps she did have too many drinks, since she seems to not recall anything of their previous night together.

She stands and stretches, saying something about lunchtime. He nods, telling her she's welcome to be excused. Before she walks out the door, she pauses at his desk. Enough of his hair has fallen down from its usual spikes to cover the mark on his neck, and he thinks that if she doesn't remember anything, it would be best to keep it hidden.

"Taicho," she whines characteristically, "My head still hurts… And I'm hungry." He gives her an inquiring look, wanting her to tell him why she's still standing in front of him, when she normally makes her exit as quickly as allowable. After a moment of awkward, but not uncomfortable, silence, she leans in. He feels himself leaning forward toward her as she moves.

"I just…" she whispers, voice heavy, "wanted to say thank you for taking care of me last night…" she finishes, then leans in and marks him on the other side of his neck.

Before he realizes exactly what has transpired, she's already traipsed out the door, calling for him to hurry and catch up. He smiles and rolls his eyes in amusement as he stands to follow her.

The damn vixen was teasing him again.