A/N: I know, I know I know. ^^; I've been away for quite a long time, but I promise everyone that I'm working hard! Especially on Fading Light! Unlike Fading Light, this story is IchiHitsu, so everyone be warned (or be over joyed )
Matsumoto hesitated putting her hand on the door that often- always- lead to a long lecture about her slacking off at work. She noticed the huge difference of what she was feeling now, that her intentions were good, from when she usually snuck into the seldom-empty office to snug the several bottles of sake she kept hidden in her taichou's desk. It felt… Good?
The busty woman checked again, making sure that no light flooded out from under the door, which would mean that Hitsugaya occupied the office. It didn't. Besides, what was to expect? The redhead they all had learnt to love had come on a visit from Karakura, which meant that he had probably already bothered the young prodigy into abandoning his paper work, and take a well deserved break. The amount of work had been pretty severe just that special week, and it was a wonder that no sound of furious scribbling reached her ears yet. All the better for her; as she'd just decided to do what Hitsugaya would consider her demise, she didn't need to be mocked for it as well.
Silently pushing the door open, she quickly jumped through the door, keeping a careful eye on the hallway as she closed it, locked it with an inaudible 'click,' and sighed; so far so good.
As she was about to turn, however, she froze in her moment. Wasn't that a discarded obi, lying on the floor so recklessly? Only one person she knew had one like that, so short, perfectly designed to be wrapped around a waist so slim it could go for a child's. No doubt, that one belonged to her taichou.
Heart beating and a sheepish attempt at her most innocent puppy eyes ever brought out before, (the wielder of Hyorinmaru would most likely never show any piece of clothing the kind of disrespect, unless he was sleeping at his office again) Matsumoto turned to the desk where a face crowned by snow would most likely frown up at her.
And she was horrified at what she saw.
Even though the desk was placed straight ahead of the door, the prodigy's head was tilted to the side- resting at one arm, while the other reached down under the desk- and allowed the woman to witness a severely flushed face, accompanied by a couple of parted lips, rosy, visibly abused by a row of teeth. He was panting harshly, as if his lungs just couldn't get enough air, and he would give a strangled moan as white streaks of eyebrows vowed together in a grimace. He was muttering something from time to time, although the whispers weren't loud enough for the strawberry blonde woman to divide into understandable words. The lithe body twitched, and another shaky breath was released. The fukutaichou could only watch her superior sit there, awkwardly hunched, as the width of her eyes and single, worried wrinkle on her temple grew. Although he didn't appear to be sleeping, it seemed like he was having some sort of violent nightmare. Had she really not noticed that the Hitsugaya Toshiro had come down with something this bad?
"Taichou! Are you alright?" she desperately called out, her feelings all too clear in her voice, and at once, the seemingly beat male's head shot up, eyes no doubt as well sized as hers. If it was possible, his face turned even redder, threatening to spread into the white spikes like blood in snow. That look tuned down as quickly as the prodigy realized just who had just waltzed in, but that didn't mean the burning fire of his cheeks died down one bit.
"Matsu…" He coughed a couple of times to get control of his rather hoarse voice, the second attempt at talking almost, just almost, sounding like his normal self. "M-matsumoto, what are you doing here?" Hitsugaya made a good point of emphasizing the words 'you' and 'here,' which didn't really surprise the fukutaichou.
Now that the situation didn't seem to have anyone's lives in danger, Matsumoto could breathe out. "Never mind me, what are you doing here, taichou?" She raised an eyebrow, walking a few steps closer. "I thought Ichigo-san was visiting this week."
"He's…" The other hand was put under the desk as well, and the boy leant back in his chair as an unhappy grunt sounded, just a bit too dark to be Hitsugaya's own. "He's visiting Rukia."
The woman raised an eyebrow, watching as the lithe arms were fumbling, obviously struggling with something. She knew that there was no way Ichigo was there; Rukia's brother had taken her somewhere for the evening, probably another art class. Her taichou didn't need to know that, though; he'd always had a good reason of lying, and she was pretty darn curious what he had his time.
"Regardless," the male panted, drawing his breath to calm himself down, "why on earth are you here?" The voice of his sounded just as suspicious as he looked.
"Paperwork." Matsumoto grinned, not proud or ashamed this time, but because of the humour in the situation.
"Paperwork?"
"Yeah, well, the week has been so busy, you of all people know that, and I thought I could help out a little, for a change." With a giggle, the busty woman crossed her arms, neither her nor the ice-wielder noticing how her breasts were framed, bulging out of her robes. Both of them were all too used to it.
The shortest occupant of the room shook his head. "You were here for sake again, weren't you?"
Faking hurt, Rangiku put up an innocent expression. "Taichou," she complained with pursed lips, "I wouldn't joke about something like this."
With a criticizing glare and disbelief enough for three days' worth of scolding, Hitsugaya actually decided to believe her. He sighed, this one shaking as well, and closed his eyes. "Very well," he decided on, placing his elbows on the desk as he waited for the sound of her leave.
No such sound came, and he had to make sure the woman had been there in the first place with the silence that followed. Surely enough, the woman who was leaning over his desk, nearly up in his face, bore her characteristic smirk of a teenager who's managed to snatch away her classmate's towel. He jumped back, praising the chair for not having wheels and thus following his direction, and his hands disappeared again.
"But taichou! Aren't you going to let me say hello to Ichigo-kun as well? We're friends, you know? Right, Ichigo?"
The furious flush from before returned full power, and a short 'mm' sounded before a choking 'gulp.'
"Anyway," Hitsugaya distracted, "if you're so eager to do some paperwork," he pointed to a pile on the coffee table, "you might as well head home and take tha-a-ahh!"
Matsumoto giggled, while her superior let out a slow, shaky breath.
"Leave it here tomorrow, done. You're excused."
The woman spun around with a huge grin, picking up the pile of paper and heading for the door.
"Matsumoto," a warning voice came, and the woman turned.
"Yes, taichou?"
"Not a word about this to anyone, at any time. It won't be forgiven."
"But taichou—! There's nothing to be ashamed of, having Ichigo working for you under your d—"
"Matsumoto!"
"I'm leaving!"
The door was slammed shut, and a panting Ichigo with unrulier hair than usual, crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his throat. "Man, can she be annoying sometimes! I can't believe she actually agreed to do some work though, or what, Toushiro?"
"It's still Hitsugaya-taichou, to you, Kurosaki!"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to be so formal with me. Rangiku was the one to annoy you this time, right?"
"Says the one who intended being as disturbing as possible under my conversation with her."
"Whatever do you mean?" Hitsugaya's head snapped back with a sharp intake of breath, making Ichigo grin widely. "Like that, or something? Besides, you were the one trying to choke me with your—"
"S-shut up," the dragon-host snapped, and pushed his lover's head down again. "Get down and finish already."
With a hum of agreement, the redhead did as ordered, and neither of the two was to be seen for the rest of the night.