This follows on my previous story BREAK which isn't terribly necessary to read first, but may help explain a few things that are coming up. Blame Akai-Miko, she (or he?) put the thought in my head of what might happen on that day when Nanao liked Shunsui more than she felt annoyed by him. Of course, I didn't want to just write them running into each others' arms without some drama, but how to write drama that didn't depress everyone? Ah-hah, writing experiment time!

Notes: This starts with the smut. That's what the "False" chapters are. I'm debating more smut at the very end of the "Honest" chapters, there will be a warning if so.

Disclaimer: I do not own BLEACH. This fan fiction was written for the sheer joy of it (and for reviews) and does not constitute a challenge to the copyright holders.

This is how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be very sweet, transpiring in a peaceful, considerate, mutually beneficial, not to mention very satisfying, way. In other words, this is NOT how it went down.

It started one mid-afternoon when Captain Shunsui Kyouraku was only minimally hung over and had wandered in to the office shortly after lunch, that much is true. And it's also true that while this wasn't especially early for him, he had expressed some amount – a tiny amount, to be sure – of interest in the day's work. Later on he wasn't quite sure why he'd asked, he would eventually muse that his Lieutenant was buzzing so pleasantly with a satisfied look that it sparked some curiosity in him. Lt. Nanao Ise, for her part, hid a smile as in recent months her Captain had on occasion taken to asking her direct questions that weren't leading but actually gave her room to answer from her own perspective.

As it happened, on this day Nanao had made excellent and quick work of the material in her inbox. She impressed even herself with her organization, working elegantly around any matters that required her Captain's personal attention. By the time Captain Kyouraku made his inquiries she had only about a half hour's work left and then several documents ready for his signature, initials and imprint – an estimated two hours' work if he was especially obstinate, 20 minutes if he didn't fight her or get distracted.

What definitely happened was that Nanao artfully blended her explanation of inter-squad deficit exchanges with charming visual aids using tea cups (some full of cold tea and others empty), two tins of tea (one with just two scoops left of a dragon blend and one half full of rooibos), four bokken, two empty scabbards and piece of paper, blank but for a cherry blossom sketched hastily in the upper right hand corner. As the performance proceeded Nanao slipped documents under that Captain's hands – one of which she had armed with a pen at a preliminary point – and encouraged him to sign as an interactive step to the demonstration.

The whole thing took about 45 minutes. At the end Nanao was slightly out of breath and a bit red in the face and her Captain wore a bemused look, though it was anyone's guess whether he felt at all informed or if he was simply entertained by his Lieutenant.

The fact remains that Nanao spent only another 15 minutes of gracefully accepting her Captain's praise of her explanation and handiwork to get him to put Squad Eight's imprint on the last two documents of the day and she was finally done.

Where it all fell apart was when, in her immense joy, she decided on an uncharacteristic expression of celebration and invited her Captain to join her for drinks, noting she should like to see other friends among the seated officers of warmly-acquainted squads for an evening of relaxation and camaraderie.

What follows immediately is a false account of what should have happened. Following upon that, please find the honest reporting of what actually transpired this fateful night and the several (painful) weeks after. It is hoped that the reader will be bolstered by the possibilities here, falsehoods though they are, and patiently endure the trials that are to come in the expectation of a satisfactory, and quite likely salacious, conclusion...