Title: The Iced Heist
Author: wereblonde
Email: PG13/R for sexual situations and some naughty language.
Pairing/characters used: Renji/Rukia. Although I managed to MENTION a lot of the other characters.
Notes: First attempt at writing fanfiction! Feedback appreciated. Thought it was a cute idea.
Warning(s): Post-SS arc, no huge 'OMG THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED' spoilers, but that's when this is set.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach! Seriously. Nor do I own Renji (although I wish that I did), or Rukia. Or Ice Cream. Or Chappy. Or Urahara's hat. Or Ichigo's temper. Or Rangiku's boobs. It's pretty much all in there. Tite Kubo is the ultimate overlord master of us all.

And I don't even know if they have ice cream trucks in Japan.

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Renji first heard it coming down the street when he was sweeping outside of the Urahara Shouten. ("Hey, freeloader," Jinta had said with a smirk while tossing him the broom. "You gotta do your share of the work for that second helping.") It was a high-pitched tinkling, an unfamiliar tune of the living that played on a loop and seemed to get louder and louder until he couldn't ignore it any longer.

"What the hell is that noise?" He burst out irritably, his grip nearly turning the soft wood of the broom handle to splinters. He strode to the street and jerked his gaze left, right, left again.

"It's called an ice cream truck," A cold feminine voice said from behind him. "Maybe you'd know that if you left the Shouten more."

"Rukia!" Renji turned around, surprised. "How long have you been here?"

"Maybe ten seconds," She answered briskly—then promptly ruined it by cracking that goofy little smile. "Yoruichi-sama's been teaching me when she has some off-time. I've gotten pretty good at masking my reiatsu."

To not even sense an inkling of that familiar reiatsu he'd been partial to his entire life? Renji had to agree. "I'm impressed." He tossed the broom aside. The runt would get over it, and besides, Rukia was there. Without Ichigo. That didn't happen often. "What's an 'ice cream truck'?" He'd heard of ice cream before, but he could hardly imagine it with wheels running around without melting in this heat. "And where's that guy?"

"If you're talking about Ichigo, Isshin-san decided that it was family bonding time and hauled them off to go hiking around Shinjuku Gyoen. He didn't seem to mind that he was a few months too late for the cherry blossoms. He offered to take me along, but I told him I had things to do." Renji decided to take her significant look as a compliment rather than a tease. She was a blur stepping towards him—how dare she use shunpo in a frivolous (if sexy) way—to link an arm through his and drag him down the street in the direction of the now-retreating noise. "And as for the ice cream truck, why don't we go find out?"

Rukia had the whole of Karakura memorised perfectly, and Renji had to admire the fact that she knew exactly which shortcuts to take in order to catch up to the hellish tinkling of 'It's A Small World After All'. Despite their haste, he was still dripping sweat by the time the caught up with the monstrous white vehicle with the eye-blindingly bright decals. The heat seemed to double as it reflected off of the concrete and blazed from all of the surrounding buildings, but Rukia somehow managed to remain sweat-free and unruffled. Maybe Yoruichi taught her that, too, Renji thought wryly.

"That's it," She said, peering around a stop sign like it was actually doing any good concealing her. "Yuzu-chan taught me about ice cream trucks when she learned I was from the 'country'." Rukia flashed him a grin. "But I was thinking—"

"Way ahead of ya," Renji cut her off, giving her a glimpse of that cocky grin that made her insides wriggle. He slapped a heavy hand to her back and nodded towards the truck, which had stopped to serve a couple of neighborhood kids. "You distract him, and I'll grab the goods?"

Rukia's lips curled into a fake pout and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do you get the fun job?"

"Because I suck at talking to people here and you know it!" He retorted. Besides, people tended to stare at his tattoos despite the headband that he wore constantly. He gave her a gentle shove in the truck's direction. "Go, before he leaves."

She started across the street but managed to toss him a dirty glance back over her shoulder. Renji just gave her another glimpse of his sexiest, 'I'm-a-cocky-bastard' grin before he moved off to circle around to the rear of the van.

Once the children left and had disappeared back into whatever air-conditioned nook they had come from, the street was empty. Rukia supposed it couldn't be helped with the heat; her clothes were starting to stick to her skin in uncomfortable places. How Renji managed to keep so cool she'd never know—maybe Urahara had taught him. By the time she sauntered up to the window, the man had already gotten back into the driver's seat.

"Excuse me?" Rukia said in that grating falsetto she saved especially for irritating Ichigo in front of his classmates. The ice cream man—an overweight twenty-something with a crooked paper hat and a dusting of unfriendly beard growth—turned as if he were going to tell her to shove a Popsicle stick up her ass. Instead, he pulled a double take.

Rukia expected nothing less—she was using the best moves that she'd learned from the girls at school. The subtle pout, the big eyes, innocently brushing her hair out of her face (although it always fell back down)—all of it worked to divert the blood flow from his brain. Rukia had learned a long time ago, back when she was growing up in Rukongai, that when men were stupefied by fantasies, they didn't notice things like great hulking redheads breaking into the back of their truck.

"Yes?" Paper-hat said with a leer, propping his arm up and leaning slightly out of the window. "You want something, girlie?"

He looked like he wanted to eat her with a side of fudge from the back of his truck. Rukia was disgusted—What kind of people do they allow to drive ice cream trucks? —but she craned her neck just so to look at the menu on the side of the truck while giving him a glance at her slender neck, petite shoulders and other features that overweight ice cream truck drivers prize. She took the opportunity to glance around for Renji, but he was nowhere in sight. The limit placed on his power by Soul Society and his own ability were enough to hinder her ability to sense his comfortably familiar reiatsu.

"Well, what would you recommend?" Rukia asked in a drawl, leaning right back towards him. She always had so much fun acting. If Ichigo weren't so adamant about being absolutely against it, she probably would have a top spot in the Drama Club.

Paper-hat had a stupid smirk plastered on his face. "Fudgesicles seem popular. Or the, ah, the lemon-flavored Chappy pop—"

"—they have Chappy?!" Rukia forgot herself in her excitement, so that girlish squeal was genuine. It was enough to push the Paper-hat over the edge into full-fledged creepdom.

"Yeah, hey, listen, why don'cha hop in the truck here and we'll—"

Rukia didn't even see where Renji came from; she nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to avoid getting brained by one of his club-like hands. He swung down from the roof of the truck and kicked Paper-hat right in the face. Rukia heard the inevitable crunch of a nose breaking and jostling as all those pounds keeled over, unconscious.

"Renji!" Rukia exclaimed, aghast. He straightened up. "You aren't supposed to knock him out, Renji—if, if you do anything, it's give him money!"

"Well, I haven't got any of that." Renji said, nonplussed. "And anyway," He turned around, and she got a look at his face. Funny eyebrows, She thought with a smile. He was flushed, and he looked pissed. "He was flirting with you!"

"That was kind of the point, you moron!" She shouted right back at him. She threw her hands up in the air. "Now that plan is pretty much ruined. Not to mention he's injured."

Renji made a quick transition from angry to embarrassed. Trying not to look flustered, he ducked his head and grabbed her wrist to drag her towards the back of the truck. "Well, I did get the back open. I just couldn't find this ice cream stuff."

"Renji, this is turning more into an outright robbery than a clever heist." Rukia let him lead her; he could probably break her wrist without even meaning to.

"Hey, whatever. You want your goddamn Chappy bunny, right?" So he really was miffed about some overweight ice cream seller! Rukia was starting to feel flattered.

"How did—"

"I heard. Go on, get in, you know these things better than I do." Renji let go of her wrist and gestured her into the back of the ice cream truck. She climbed up and went straight for the polished freezer to the right-hand side of the truck, where the window opened up to serve customers. The steel had been pulled back down to keep the back of the truck from the sun. She opened the lid of the freezer and bent down to rummage through the icy coldness, shifting aside push-pops and chocolate-flavored something-or-others searching for the prized Chappy pop. She heard Renji climb into the truck behind her muttering something about humans and Zabimaru before he fell silent and was just a huge presence lurking out of her sight.

"This reminds me of when we were back in Rukongai," he said suddenly, making her jump and nearly bash her head on the top of the freezer. She straightened up for a moment to give him a 'don't surprise me like that' glance before bending back down to continue the search. He didn't seem to be paying much attention.

"Before all of that Kuchiki mess and Gotei 13 politics," He muttered. Rukia winced slightly—yes, it had been a mess, but she did like and respect Byakuya-nii-sama. She was about to say as much when she felt a heavy hand on her bottom.

"We used to be so much closer, Ru, before all that tore us apart." His voice had dropped to a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. He'd always made her feel things nobody had any business making her feel. And Renji had no business touching her bottom.

"Renji, what are you—"

"He pissed me off, Rukia, and I had to think about why. And when I thought about why, I figured it's because you're my girl."

As she straightened up his hand slid from her rear end to her waist. "Yours?" She said suddenly, her voice hovering somewhere between the icy disdain of a Kuchiki and a genuine curiosity. She turned around and Renji let his fingers drag across her stomach. Even through the cloth of the dress that Ishida had made for her, she could feel the heat of his touch. His other hand fell heavy on her shoulder.

"Yes. You're mine, Rukia," His voice was petulant, possessive. "So quit with all that high-and-mighty shit Captain Byakuya taught you.' His eyes were intense as they searched her face for some sign of the acceptance that he wanted from her, that she used to give him so easily when they were best friends with nothing but each other and that awful hunger. She felt it welling up inside, bursting to get out despite her reservations.

When he kissed her, though, all of her reservations disappeared. The reply that she'd opened her mouth to deliver was swallowed by his.

It was slow at first, sweet, the first taste of honey after a lifetime of lemons, but the way that he moved closer and the way that he nibbled insistently at her bottom lip and a million other body signals that were uniquely Renji told her that he wanted more and was just being polite. She moaned into his mouth and her hands went automatically to his broad chest; when Renji deepened the kiss, she didn't complain. His tongue snaked into her mouth and tangled with hers and his hand moved from her shoulder to tangle in her hair, leaving an exquisite trail of heat along the way. She felt the hard angle of the freezer prod at her back, but she hardly cared; Renji still knew how to make her weak in the knees.

He pulled away for the barest of moments in order to find a way to get his hand under her dress.

"Renji, we haven't done this since—" Her voice sounded ridiculously weak.

"No, we haven't," Renji cut her off, sliding his hands around her hips as if looking for the hem of a shirt. "But we haven't knocked anybody over since then, either." His voice was still a growl, if entirely business-like.

She gasped slightly as he lifted her by the waist with very little effort and propped her on the edge of the freezer. "Whatever made you start wearing dresses like these," He started irritably before she cut him off.

"Ishida made it for me, and besides, I think it's nice. I don't complain about your outdated sense of fashion. Although, I do have to say that those—what did Ichigo call them? Bellbottoms—they aren't so bad."

"Oh, really," Renji gave her a lingering glimpse of that devilish grin before he ducked in to claim her mouth again. He kept on large hand splayed on the small of her back to keep her from falling into the open freezer. The other started on her knee, but as they kissed (she started nipping him back, it was an elaborate game) it crept up her thigh. The calluses formed by constantly handling a zanpakutou chafed against her smooth skin and made the heat in the pit of her stomach coil tighter. Rukia let her hands roam over his chest, up his arms; she traced the teasing bits of tattoo at his neck and delighted in the way that he moaned.

As Renji's hand crept under her dress, hers went up to pull off his headband and free his hair from its ponytail. She'd always loved his hair. It spilled down to below his shoulders, fiery red like his spirit, soft to her touch.

She gasped into his mouth when his hand skimmed the juncture of her thighs. The promise he left with the momentary pressure made her whimper. He chuckled in return—chuckled—and ducked away from her mouth to trail kisses down her neck.

"Renji—" One of her hands fallowed the path of his tattoos through his shirt while the other continued to toy with his hair. His hand continued its dogged journey upward, trailing over her stomach and ribs.

The cold from the freezer was starting to mingle with his effect on her. When his hand closed over her breast, her nipples already ached—the rough of his calluses made her utter his name again and cast a fearful glance towards the driver's seat. Her hands went to the edge of the freezer to further keep her from toppling in. Her grip redoubled when his teeth grazed the untended breast through the fabric of her dress. He molded and stroked in a way that made her bite her lip to avoid making noise.

When he stopped, she huffed in annoyed exasperation. Renji laughed at her and, without saying a word, tugged the hem of her skirt upwards.

"Wait," Rukia protested. "What if he wakes up?" She jerked her head in the direction of the unconscious driver.

Renji looked up at her through his hair, glance in the direction that she indicated, and snickered. "I hit him hard enough to keep him out for another half an hour."

"You cheated, didn't you?"

"Shut up." He lifted her up and slid her dress the rest of the way off.

"It's A Small World After All" started up and tinkered away at an alarming rate as Renji and Rukia made their way out of the neighborhood about thirty minutes later. They walked in companionable silence towards the Urahara Shouten until Rukia looked over at him.

"You know, it's always been you, Ru," Renji said after a moment, looking away. He loved her. He did. And he would tell her. "It always will be." Eventually. He would tell her eventually.

Rukia hid a grin behind her dripping Chappy bunny Popsicle. "What about that thing with Matsumoto?"

Renji spluttered. "What?! Have you seen her—" He was blushing again. "Anyway, it wasn't a thing. It was just flirting. And god, what can you expect, if she wears stuff like that!"

Rukia laughed at his outburst. Yup, she still knew how to push his buttons. All of his buttons. She bit the ear off of Chappy the Bunny and punched him in the arm. "Shut up! I know."

end.