Hola, my friends. Although I know I should be working on my other story, An Aberrant Assignment, I have written this oneshot with the encouragement of my friend Raven. And yes, Raven, I have some aspect of you in here, if you can find it. Enjoy!

- Lady Triplet

"MATSUMOTOOOO!" Outside of the infamously short-tempered taicho's office, several Hitsugaya-taicho's subordinates shivered as the temperature around them plummeted.

"Do you think he's found out yet?" muttered one of the women to her companion.

"Are you stupid, Karasu, or do you just look it? Of course he found out – the walls are freezing over!" With that, the speaker slapped her friend upside the head. "What I want to know is why Mastumoto-fukutaicho keeps messing with him. Honestly, we all suffer for it. He's not happy, she isn't happy, we aren't happy, and the Soutaicho definitely isn't…" Karasu's friend cut off whatever she was going to say as the door to her taicho's office slid open with a bang.

"You!" The short – and short-tempered - taicho pointed to the two friends. "Find Mastumoto and drag her drunken ass back here!"

"Yes sir!" they snapped to attention and saluted their taicho. At his nod, they turned and sprinted away, leaving a cloud of dust behind them in their haste to get away from the icy young man's wrath.

Hitsugaya turned back to his office with a sign. Reigning in his icy reiatsu once again, he gazed at the chaos around him. Paperwork was scattered everywhere – stuffed in the cushions of the couch, slipped in between the cracks of the floor, and piled high on top of every other available surface. Just that morning, he had found paperwork hidden in places he couldn't even believe could be a hiding place. Some of it was due back before he had even become a taicho! That wasn't even the worst of it. A certain someone had taken the papers he had been working on the previous day and spilled sake over them, including his desk. The entire room now stank of alcohol.

Sometimes, the extent of his fukutaicho's incompetence appalled him. Wait, scratch that. It appalled him every single minute of every single day. When she got back, Mastumoto would not only be doing paperwork until she was as grey and bent as the Soutaicho, but she would also be scrubbing their shared office ceiling to floor, until the smell was gone.

Honestly, why didn't he just transfer her to another division? Maybe to Kuchiki, because if that man could straighten out Renji, formerly of the rambunctious and rowdy Eleventh, surely he could deal with Mastumoto. Or even to Kyoraku over in the Eighth? Lord knows the man would thank him for such a fun and busty new drinking buddy. But, he conceded, the Soutaicho would not be happy with that arrangement. Just thinking of his fukutaicho and that lazy womanizer together made him shudder. No, definitely not. That would be too much partying and drinking for even the haven of crazies called Seireitei to handle.

No, Hitsugaya concluded. Mastumoto would have to stay with him in the Tenth. Now that he thought about it, she was loyal when it really counted. She always had his back in battle, so he was free to focus on the threat in front of him. And he would never forget how she had found him back in Rukongai, slowly killing his grandmother with his immense and uncontrolled reiatsu. Matsumoto was the one to convince him to become a Shinigami, never dreaming that she might one day be his fukutaicho. But even if she hadn't realized he would become her taicho one day, she had supported his promotion in every way. He would feel far too guilty if he transferred her to be someone else's problem.

"Taicho!" Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Matsumoto threw herself through the open doorway and trapped her tiny taicho into a tight embrace.

"MASTUMHHHHH," Hitsugaya thrashed in her arms, fighting for breath. He was steadfastly ignored as his troublesome fukutaicho continued to suffocate him with her deadly cleavage. Finally, he freed himself with one well-placed kick to her stomach.

"Taicho!" she whined. "That was mean…" Matsumoto trailed off when she noticed his glare. The phrase "if looks could kill" ran through her mind. Trying to avoid his icy glare, she instead focused on the office around her.

Big mistake. Matsumoto finally took in all of the paperwork littering the room, some of it piled as high as she was tall. She gulped. He had found all of her hiding spots and of course he had noticed her sake all over his desk. She looked back to her taicho, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

But it never came. "Clean this mess up and finish the work on your desk," was all the response she got.

"Taicho, are you feeling okay?" she inquired, reaching over to touch his forehead. He never just forgave her like that, never. Where was the angry outburst, the lecture, the threats and the sudden drop in temperature that always accompanied such actions?

"I'm fine, now get to work!" Hitsugaya snapped back, finally impatient with her. And as he strode out of the room, haori swishing confidently behind him, Matsumoto smiled. She wouldn't give up working with him for all the sake in the world, even if she would never admit it. Her taicho might not show it in obvious ways, but this was how he told her that he felt the same.

"We're just a mess, aren't we?" She turned to her desk, ready to do her taicho proud. Well, maybe after a little nap first.

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