A/N: Written as a gift fic for TrulyWished. This fic is based somewhat off events in her fic entitled 'One is Too Many' combined with my drabble 'Pride is Not Enough'. It's not necessary to read either in order to understand the story, but here is some brief background info.

Ikkaku is captain of the 3rd Division.

Kira is his partner and lieutenant.

Ishida will be spending quite a bit of time in Sereitei.

Warnings: Yaoi. Lemon. Kink. Smut. Colourful language. Moderate violence. Hairballs. You have been warned.

Pairings and characters: IchixIshixHime, IchixIshi, IkkakuxKira, Yumichika, Hanatarou, Hinamori, Ryuken, Unohana etc

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. Tetsummi (minorOC) belongs to TrulyWished. All your base are belong to us.


Uryuu Ishida took off his glasses. Wearing them now did little to improve his vision. In the darkened room, Ichigo was grinning idiotically and wavering between being a hazy blur and two Ichigos, depending on whether or not the Quincy decided to cross his eyes. Normally the archer would have seized every excuse to grumble at his thick-headed, orange-haired partner, but not today. Not when the Ichigo's bed was soft and warm and very pleasant things were being done to his naked body. Not when he was drunk and sleepy and full of good food on his birthday night. And especially not when said shinigami gently took his wrists and restrained him to the bedposts while promising him much, much more to come. Wide, sturdy straps were buckled into place over his ankles as well. The Quincy shuddered with barely-contained anticipation.

His vision continued to swim as Ichigo covered him with tender kisses and nibbled delicately at the skin of his neck. He paused once to speak to someone outside the room. Then the door swung open. For a moment, the drunken haze cleared as Ishida jerked against his restraints in alarm at the invasion of his privacy; only to lie back with a sigh when he realised that the intruder was Orihime.

The evening was going to get even better.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the Orihime-shaped blur sidled into the room, quietly shut the door and came to his side. She knelt down and reached forward to run a finger down the side of his neck, down to his collarbone; while her free hand began unbuttoning her blouse. The finger kept travelling down, over his chest and abdomen, and he gurgled with pleasure. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ishida knew that he should be protesting, frowning at her lack of decency and… Ichigo leaned past her and sealed his lips over his own, cutting off any resistance. Two pairs of hands began to tease and arouse his sensitive body, drawing muffled whimpers from the Quincy as he surrendered to complete sensory overload.

He was almost unable to bring himself to notice the sudden stinging sensation in the side of his upper thigh that vanished as soon as he pulled away from Ichigo and strained to see what had happened. To his horror, Ryuken Ishida towered over him, an empty syringe in hand.

…!!!!!!!

The younger Ishida howled at the top of his lungs and tried to yank himself free, but he was securely strapped into place. Ichigo continued to stroke him while urging him to relax. The tranquilizer took effect immediately and his struggles began to slow. Orihime, the gentle, soft-hearted bitch, was holding on to him and telling him that everything was going to be okay and that he should just go to sleep. Ryuken was smiling slightly, though Ishida's poor vision when minus his glasses prevented him from noticing. Soon, his arms became too heavy to lift and his violent thrashing ceased altogether.

His mind was the last to surrender to the drug. Fury cooled to confusion, and finally, calm helplessness as Uryuu Ishida sank into slumber, still wrapped in his lovers' embrace.


About two hours later, an enormous steel-reinforced crate sat on rollers behind Karakura Town's main post office. Small holes drilled through the top admitted air for the container's sleeping occupant. As Ryuken drove off, a young delivery man dressed in a Federal Express uniform glanced about to check if he was alone, before approaching it cautiously. The formidable shipment was two metres across on each side. It was addressed and billed to a certain Retsu Unohana, of postcode 'G13-4D'. He took a small dispenser out of his pocket and popped a Soul Candy into his mouth.

Yamada Hanatarou emerged and released a black butterfly. He commanded his gigai to push the crate over the rollers and towards the portal that opened at the other end. Slowly the crate started moving and rolled forward on its own momentum, gradually accelerating. The spirit-Hanatarou leapt, caught the edge of the crate and scrabbled clumsily until he managed to climb on top. Together they vanished though the portal.

As Hanatarou and the crate traversed between worlds, the shinigami leaned across to peer at the words printed on its sides. On his left, magical lettering glowed, spelling out the words 'Quincy Breeding Program: Live cargo. Please handle with care.'

On the other side was another sentence, printed with mundane words visible to the human eye.

'FedEx Japan: Whatever it takes.'


The team of 4th division shinigami stood ready at the gate closest to their headquarters. Right on schedule, the crate materialised. It was night here, too; and one of them passed Hanatarou a torch. It cast long, dancing shadows into the night, making the diminutive shinigami look almost menacing. Orange firelight flickered across his nervous face as he sucked in a deep breath. From where he crouched above the crate, Hanatarou reached forward with a trembling hand and slowly grasped the bolt that held the door shut. The assembled shinigami fell silent, preparing themselves for the worst.

The officer closed his eyes and began to draw the bolt aside. Metal scraped softly against metal with agonising slowness. More than one hand found its way to the hilt of its owner's zanpakutou out of pure survival instinct. A few of the timid shinigami flinched slightly as the bolt came fully open with a slight 'clunk'. Quincy reiatsu seeped forth from within, no longer bound by the magical seal. Very gently, Hanatarou let go of the bolt.

Nothing happened. The shinigami released involuntarily-held breaths. The dangerous, Captain-smiting Quincy was still thankfully unconscious. Calm descended on the group and Hanatarou steadied himself atop the crate before pushing the door open from the left side.

Instead of opening sideways, the door was actually hinged at the bottom. The top of the two inch-thick metal barrier suddenly fell away from Hanatarou. He lunged to grab it and succeeded, but it was heavier than he was and pulled him off the crate as it continued to fall, before hitting the ground with a reverberating crash. A second, smaller crash followed immediately after as Hanatarou fell on top of it with a shrill yelp; right in front of the opening

Despite having the breath knocked from his lungs, the fallen shinigami still had enough wits about him to turn himself around. The light of his dropped torch illuminated the interior of the crate for a brief second, reflecting off rectangular eyeglasses and widening scrowl.

And as the light sputtered and died, the screams began.


"Hey Ikka, what's going on at the Fourth?"

The bald captain peered where his friend pointed. On the other side of the wall dividing the Third and Fourth division compounds, some sort of commotion was clearly taking place. The sounds of ferocious battle drifted over to Ikkaku and Yumichika, sweet music to their ears. It sounded like quite a fight too.

"Hmph…maybe they're sparring properly for once. I didn't think they had it in them." Captain Madarame Ikkaku shrugged dismissively and took another swig out of his bottle. Though his face remained impassive, he couldn't help but nurse a warm, fuzzy feeling towards his weaker allies. He could certainly drink to that.

As they watched, the tiny figure of Hanatarou was catapulted over the wall, still shrieking, to land within their compound.

"HANA..!!! Are you alright..?" Lieutenant Izuru Kira leapt to his feet and bolted over to the foot of the wall where the smaller shinigami lay. When he approached, the battered healer pushed himself upright and gasped, "uh…uh…fine…Lieutenant Kira… Quincy…angry…escaping…"

What the hell? Kira turned to his superior. "Captain! Yumichika! The Fourth division is fighting Quincy! We've got to help!" Desperate blue eyes fastened their gaze on the captain, pleading for his approval and assistance.

Ikkaku at first wanted to wave him away, to tell him that the Fourth had a capable leader and needed to learn to defend itself for once; when it suddenly occurred to him that he knew the Quincy on the other side of the wall. Grinning from ear to ear, he realised this was a fight he and Yume couldn't afford to miss. Still, out of pure respect for the Fourth at having engaged in battle first, he took his time rising to his feet and ambling over with Yumichika. Knowing the nature of both sides in the conflict, no-one was going to die. Hanatarou was already healing himself. Together they sauntered though the gate and into the Fourth division compound.

The grounds and exercise equipment were festooned with the semi-conscious bodies of 4th division shinigami. Leaving Kira behind to mother them, Yumichika and Ikkaku ran more quickly towards the source of the ruckus. What if the unthinkable happened and the Fourth actually won before they arrived?

As it was, the battle had come to a standoff. Ishida ploughed through at least fifty medics with his fists, feet and impromptu weapons before being cornered by another hundred including Isane and Unohana herself. Ishida nursed minor bruises; his hand-sewn clothes tattered, as he held the unconscious Third Seat Iemura over one arm as a human shield. Just as Ikkaku thought, no one wanted to really hurt each other. How boring.

The female captain's powerful reiatsu hummed in the air as she tried to reason with the Quincy. Ikkaku and Yumichika waited at the back to find out what was going on.

"Ishida, you are in no danger here. You will receive your weapons and personal effects once you return my subordinate and calm down."

"NO! I demand to be sent back to Earth! I repeat: I am NOT going to be a breeding stud for the whole bloody female population of Soul Society!"

Yumichika and Kira glanced at each other sympathetically. Poor Quincy.

Unohana laughed quietly. "I must have not explained things clearly enough. I am afraid that we cannot return you to Earth without permission from your father; a man who, by the way, I truly respect…"

The Quincy remained silent, teeth grinding under his breath.

"…He has accepted the soutaichou's offer of help in restoring your race. As the Fourth division, we are bound to provide for your physical needs." Her voice lowered subtly.

"I'm not a fucking whore! I not sleeping with you or any random bitch off the street!"

The air seemed to spike with Unohana's anger, even though she remained calm and polite. A fearful shudder passed though the ranks of the shinigami who were still standing, but Ishida somehow stood his ground.

"Ishida, I am sure you do not need me to remind you of the urgency of the Quincy situation. You can refuse me specifically, but do you not ultimately wish to see your race survive? Would you be so selfish as to refuse our apology and deny shinigami a chance to make amends?"

Ishida's face went scarlet at the last remark. It wasn't so long ago that he had finally put aside his grudge against shinigami, so that he could be with Ichigo with a clear conscience. But this was waaay too much, too soon. Frantically, his gaze moved over the crowd. Then he spotted the second captain and his eyes widened in surprise. Inside his head, mental gears were turning.

That was the same bald shinigami from the Eleventh, one of those that helped Orihime and I find Ichigo in Soul Society years ago. The pretty one next to him…I remember him too. They go around together a lot. C'mon…think, Ishida, think…

Suddenly he pulled Iemura upright and held him close. "Captain Unohana…! I PREFER MEN!!!" Ishida tried to not wince as he planted a wet, passionate kiss on the officer's lips. Iemura's eyes fluttered open…and shut again as the heterosexual shinigami swooned in terror. All around them, various shinigami were struggling with the decision to stare or turn away and shudder. Ikkaku slapped his forehead, while Kira studied a little pebble on the ground.

"Wow, he really is getting desperate," Yumichika remarked softly. To everyone's surprise however, Unohana continued serenely, completely unfazed.

"Inoue Orihime would beg to differ. Please stop molesting my third seat. Now."

The surge of reiatsu shook even Ishida enough to make him drop the limp shinigami to the ground…gently. At once, calm returned to the courtyard.

"Thank you. By the way, Ichigo is most welcome too. Will you now accompany me to your quarters?" A hundred hopeful pairs of eyes (including many female ones) returned their gaze to the Quincy. But his eyes focused only on one person – Ikkaku.

The captain was so familiar with that look that he could attach words to it by now. Silently, the Quincy was crying out:

Save me!


A/N: Ok, hopefully I actually know where this is going to go. I've tried to keep people in character as they are in canon, or in TrulyWished's fic. The crate scene was totally inspired by the opening of the first Jurassic Park movie. BTW, 'Whatever it takes' really is a FedEx slogan XD