It was a cold, dark night. The sky above was cloudy, shading out the moon and the stars and plunging the streets and homes into darkness. Oil lamps gave a feeble glow, nothing like the more powerful lanterns powered by kido. This was a poorer part of town, although not too poor. Working class and comfortable, but not luxurious.

In this neighborhood there was a park, and in that park was a stream. Over the stream there was a battered old bridge, and standing on that bridge was a figure cloaked in more darkness. There was the tiniest flare of light, a spark as a match was lit. That little glowing ember tumbled over the edge of the bridge, ending in extinction as it hit the water.

Taking a deep drag from the cigarette, the man on the bridge looked into the water and wondered where his life had taken a wrong turn. He'd done what he was supposed to do, hadn't he? He'd followed orders. He'd held the line, gotten the other fucks to actually do their jobs, and in return he'd gotten a promotion and a power blow-job courtesy of the new God and King. Then he'd gotten to pick out a nice bit of ass to warm his bed. What was wrong with any of that?

He sighed as he looked at his hands, the black straps meant to protect his palms. They were more fashion than necessity, now, but he kept them anyway. The rest of his clothing was the same… black leather with tarnished silver buckles. Heavy black boots, knee high. It was all a carbon copy of his Espada uniform, but in black.

I hate wearing white. He thought before taking another drag on his cigarette. Cigs were good, they mellowed him out. Alcohol was bad. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd had it but he knew it tasted great and did bad, bad things to him. If he got on the demon drink he'd wake up lying in a puddle of puke and find his woman dead in the kitchen. And then who would make breakfast and do his laundry?

"Fucking hate white." He grumbled under his breath at that thought. The shit was so hard to clean. His woman tried, she really did, but there was only so much you could do. And he was just a fucking ninja master at finding the worst crap to foul up his uniform with. Once he'd even stood outside and called his woman to get a bucket of water and dump it on him, it was that bad. That uniform had gone right in the trash.

He took another pull of his cigarette, trying to take the edge off his mood. There was no reason for that mood. He'd just woken up in the middle of the night beside his woman and looking at her pale skin in the dark… something had tripped in the back of his brain and he'd needed to get out before he suffocated. The air and the cigs were helping. Soon, he'd get rid of this weird, twitchy feeling and be able to go home. Then he'd climb back into bed with his woman and enjoy the warm blankets. That was always a fine feeling.

Right now, though, he still needed to get the edge off. Glancing up at the sky, he wished he could see the moon. Such a gorgeous thing, the moon and the stars. They reminded him a little of Hueco Mundo although here, the moon changed. It ranged from full to gibbous to a very familiar crescent. He liked it best when it was the crescent. That made him feel at home. Taking another pull from his cigarette, he realized the thing was practically gone. Tossing the butt into the water – littering? Who gave a shit – he pulled out another and lit it with the fine little lighter his woman had picked out. She'd hated that thing he'd done with his nails to light them before. Something about it looking obscene? He had no idea.

There were a lot of things he didn't understand about his woman. He let his mind range over it as he sucked on the newest cancer stick. She was a beautiful woman but she read books all the time. Books… he just didn't see the charm. But then, he'd never had any books. Not when he was alive and sure as hell not when he was dead.

"I want to go home." He murmured before taking another drag from the cigarette. He had that traitorous thought at least once a week. Hueco Mundo was just so clean compared to this place. Do or die, eat or be eaten. There was none of this silly 'social interaction' stuff. Or at least not much and it was always optional. There were no 'meals with the family'… that had been awkward… and no 'monitoring the shinigami.' Was he even any good at that? Well, actually, he knew he was. He just hated it. For a moment he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity and imagine stalking across the sand dunes. Where it was cold and clean and while he might be in pain he never felt… bad…

Sighing, he dropped what was left of his cigarette in the water and walked off the bridge, adjusting the strap that held his spear in place on his back as he moved. He was done here. He felt okay, good enough to sleep anyway, and when he woke up he'd be fine. Although he knew, as he walked, that part of his soul was still in Hueco Mundo. Vaguely, he thought it always would be.

He'd just have to ignore the ache.

"Oh for fuck's sake." He grumbled, sorting through his uniforms in an effort to find one that didn't have stains. Not that he actually gave a crap but Tousen seemed to believe they should be immaculate. How in hell did the others manage it? Giving up, he picked something and started getting ready. "Why white? Why?" Well, actually, there were a lot of reasons why. Shinigami wore black, hollows were covered in white bones. The sands of Hueco Mundo were white too. It was all pretty appropriate, right? Except it just didn't CLEAN well. Vaguely, he thought he should beat his woman for this but the thought made him shudder. Pushing aside the unpleasant memories that tried to ooze up in the back of his mind – that shit was all the past and he WOULD NOT think about it – he stomped out to the breakfast table. His woman was putting out the food with a miserable look on her face.

"I'm sorry." She said right away, making him blink. "I just couldn't… I tried…" Oh, she knew why he seemed a little pissed. He sighed, taking a chair and slumping into it as he waived away her apology.

"I know, it's fine. Well I mean, it's not fine but it's not your fault." He said, seeing her relax a bit. He'd never hit her but he had yelled at her a time or two, so that was fair enough. "I should see if I can get a special dispensation to wear grey or something." Although it was more likely he'd get a special boot up his ass for even asking. Grimacing, he reached for the water. Nice, cold water in the morning… ah, she'd put in ice cubes and lemon, that was nice. He felt a bit better after a long drink and straightened, before resting his elbows on the table. "So what're you up to today?" He didn't make her stay in the house all day. Sure, it was her job to keep the house clean but it was nothing but a two bedroom flat. Cleaning it took an hour, max. Longer for a spring cleaning but that happened twice a year. Making her stay at home all the time… she'd probably go crazy. He knew he would.

"If you don't mind, I want to go to my Division." She said and he sighed internally. It wasn't really her Division anymore, her taichou had a new fukutaichou, but she still liked to go back.

"Yeah, sure, you do that. Just don't let your taichou stick his hand up your skirt." He said as he ate a mouthful of eggs. She gave him an outraged look as she started eating her own food. It was really nice, eggs and bacon with that seriously spicy sauerkraut stuff. What was it called again? He couldn't remember but he liked the burn.

"Kyoraku taichou would never do that." She said firmly and he was damned sure she was wrong. Oh, he wouldn't do it unless she let him. But if she did let him? That hand would be up there faster than you could say boo.

"Mmm hmm." He hummed softly as she glowered at him. She knew what he was thinking.

"There is nothing between us." She huffed and he let it go, just concentrating on the food. He wanted to finish it and if he said what he was thinking, she'd heave a book at him and he wasn't ready for that yet. However, he'd be ready in a bit. And she had a book right beside her so that'd be funny as all hell.

"Well, I'm done." He said cheerfully as he wiped off the last bit of egg yolk up with his finger and sucked it off. Mmm. "Enjoy the afternoon with Kyoraku. Don't let him pull you under the desk." He stood just as she stiffened before grabbing the book and throwing it at him. He moved to the side and it hit the wall with a thud. "Ain't that disrespectful to the written word?" She'd told him that when he'd tossed a book around, when he was looking for something.

"Get out!" She half-shrieked and he beat it, chuckling. She was fun to rile up sometimes… and they both knew it was all in good fun. Her real temper was scary and when he was in a bad mood, he didn't joke about. After nearly five years together they both understood. Humming to himself, he headed down the street. Time for another day of 'pestering the shinigami'. Could his life get any better?

As it turned out, it could.

"For me?" He looked at the offering in bemusement. A plate of cookies? "What's the occasion?" He asked as he sampled one, automatically checking for any poison or potions. Not that he thought they would try to poison him – that'd be idiotic – but caution was ingrained. The little girl with the tawny hair smiled brightly at him.

"No occasion! We just made too many." She chirped and he shrugged, taking the plate. "We made them for Ukitake-taichou, you see. He was feeling under the weather last night."

"I see." And he did see. She was basically begging him to go easy on her taichou today. Well, the cookies were nice. "There probably won't be much to do today. Maybe he can go home early." He offered and he smile turned a bit relieved.

"Thank you, that would be good for him. Although now we'll have to convince him to go…" Well, that would be for them. He sure as hell wasn't into mothering. A few more platitudes and she was gone, leaving him with the cookies. Six of them… he worked through them slowly, taking his time. Sweets were something he loved but didn't have much of. His woman wasn't a baker and he sure wasn't.

The rest of the day went by at a leisurely pace. He spent a bit of time drilling the shinigami – he'd made that a personal mission, the silly bastards needed some help – then went to check up on Ukitake. He was looking a bit under the weather.

"Vance-sama." Jyuushiro said with a small smile. Not that Vance was his real name.. no, that was Valenncoro. He hated that, though, and always asked to just be called Vance. "I'm almost done those reports for you."

"Mmm, yeah, about that. I don't need those today." He half-lied. He'd wanted them today so he could give them a thorough do-over before handing them in to Tousen. The asshole was a nit-picker and if things were off, he'd send the reports back and expect Vance to get them redone 'properly'. That was just a pain for everyone. But he could always get Nanao to look them over really fast tomorrow. "I was thinking of leaving early, taking my woman out to eat." Well, he hadn't been thinking of it until Kiyone had asked him to be nice. But he'd been thinking of the best way to put it to Ukitake and this was a good one. If he wasn't even there the man would have no reason to kill himself on the paperwork. Although would he leave early? That was up to the girl.

"Oh." There was a shadow of pain on his face and Vance knew why. He didn't like to think of the way a lot of the female shinigami, especially, had been parceled out. Well, spoils of war and all that. Although it felt more like an arranged marriage sometimes. "Well, I'll definitely have them done by then. Was there anything else you needed?"

"Nah, but I wanted to give you a head's up. There's trouble in the Zaraki district." Jyuushiro tried to look polite but Vance could read his mind. He was thinking the Zaraki district was nothing BUT trouble. "More than usual I mean. Some weird fuckers in black robes with masks, no idea what that's about but they can fight." He shrugged slightly. "And that was from an arrancar so I thought you should know." If those bastards could give an arrancar a fight, they'd make mincemeat out of most shinigami. That made him frown a little.

"I see. Thank you." He said politely and Vance made his exit.

The rest of the day went pretty well. After he'd put in enough time, he decided to make a break and head over to the Eighth. His woman would still be there, he was sure. And she was too, handling some forms as her taichou flirted with her. He smiled, just listening at the door for a moment.

"Oh Nanao-chan, please don't be so cold to me~" Kyoraku was teasing, the way he always did. Vance knew that everyone thought the two of them had been screwing for decades but the truth was, they'd never done it. Nanao said it and he knew she was telling the truth, which made it funnier to him. Because while she insisted Shunsui didn't want her THAT way, he was just flirting, Vance was sure he actually wanted her so bad it made his dick hurt. He probably jacked off a lot in the shower.

"Kyoraku taichou! I am busy with the reports that YOU have been letting pile up! And I need to hurry, I feel Vance coming towards me." …Well poodlicious, how the hell had she done that? That did shut Kyoraku up for a moment and when he spoke, he sounded choked.

"That scar faced bastard." Vance frowned, crossing his arms and putting his hands under his armpits. Yeah, he had a scar and it wasn't a pretty one. What of it? "Nanao, has he been…?" What? Beating her? He rubbed his forehead with a grimace. Probably.

"He's fine. YOU won't be if you don't get your work done." Her tone made him grin again. Ah, she was cute when she got all pretend bitchy. And maybe he should stop eavesdropping, he was here for something after all. He knocked on the door and there was a dead silence before he slid the door open. They were both looking at him and while Kyoraku had a great poker face, he could see the flat dislike in his eyes. Nanao just smiled at him and he glanced over the stacks of paper.

"Nice job slacking, Kyoraku." He said cheerfully and saw the man's jaw tighten. "Hey little woman. I was wondering, would you like to get on a nice kimono, put on the makeup and go out?" She looked surprised, but he rarely did this.

"That would be nice." Ah, he loved it when she did that thing with her eyelashes, looking up at him through them. It made her look like a demure schoolgirl and then he really wanted to hump her. "What restaurant?" Ah, right, food then sex.

"I was thinking that nice place down with the banana leaves and the sticky rice." He said easily, watching Kyoraku a bit. The man was looking both deflated and grim. Poor ol' bastard. "Or we could go somewhere new. You fancy some Italian? I could do with spaghetti." He loved spaghetti. Nanao didn't mind it once in a while, although it wasn't her thing. "And I hear their lamb shanks are amazing." That was something she'd like. Along with a good bottle of red wine, they'd have a thing going.

"You know, I would love Italian." She said after a moment of thought and he smiled, leaning over the desk and gently cupping her cheek before sliding his hand behind her head and pulling her into a deep kiss. Yeah, it was cruel to do it right in front of Kyoraku… but some deep, masculine part of him wanted to put the other male in his place. My woman. "I just need to finish this."

"Mmm hmm." He hummed, breathing in her scent for a moment before letting go. "I'll be waiting at home." He should get cleaned up too. Damned if he'd wear white on his time off. "Don't take too long." She could get lost in that stack of papers. "Later." As he left he glanced at Kyoraku, managing not to smirk. It was hard though. Damn male instincts.

Jumping into a quick sonido, he went home for a quick shower and a change. He even blow dried his hair, fluffing the silky black strands. Then he frowned at himself in the mirror, examining his scar. It was damned impressive. A raised, keloid scar, it started on the side of his neck, ran over the edge of his chin, over his ear and onto his scalp. The ear was a bit of a mess and he sighed, beginning to arrange his hair over it. Thank god the hair had come back. The scar went onto his cheek, too, but the pattern almost looked decorative. It didn't touch his mouth at all, another thing he was thankful for. He'd seen a guy once with a frozen grin and that hadn't been pretty.

Some hair spray ensured the hair would stay over the stubby thing that was his left ear. When he'd been alive he'd used some weird shit for that and the other guys had told him was a pussy, but he'd decided he didn't care. He didn't like the way his ear looked, at all, and didn't like accidentally brushing a hand over it. The rest of his hair, he let fly around in a carefree way. It was naturally waved, it didn't need much.

The rest of him looked fine. Well, better than fine. Vance knew he'd been a good looking man, before he got those thermite burns. Bright blue eyes, thick black hair, warm brown skin and dimples when he smiled. Those dimples were a lady killer. The scar had kind of fucked it up, but it had never gotten in the way of hook ups. Abandoning the bathroom – he'd lost most of his vanity with the ear – he began getting dressed. Sorting through the clothing, he picked out a dark purple kimono. It was made of silk and really nice, while the color and pattern were forgiving of spills. Perfect for him. Humming softly, he even put on a fundoshi. Ah, learning how to wear those had been a pip. He still remembered that conversation with Tousen and how the shinigami had asked what he'd worn when he was alive. 'Nothing' hadn't been the right answer. It was mostly what he wore now, though, except when he was feeling all fancy.

He was all done and trying to read one of Nanao's books when she got home. Well, actually, he was looking at the pictures. It was some kind of instruction manual and had illustrations. Of course, that made her give him a peculiar look. He wasn't much of a reader and advanced kido wards wasn't exactly something an arrancar could use.

"I'm looking at the pretty pictures." He answered her look and she snorted before smiling and going to the bathroom. He kept flipping through the book. It wouldn't take her long, maybe even less time than he'd taken. She probably wouldn't shower.

He was right about that and soon she was wearing her own kimono. It was dark blue and he thought it looked nice with his purple. She was wearing a bit of makeup, too. Just a touch, enough to bring out those lovely purple eyes. He thought sometimes those eyes were why he'd picked her. Purple was his favorite color. Setting down the book on the coffee table, he stood up.

"Ready to go, Nanao?" Vance asked. He'd used to call her honey, but she hated that so he'd stopped. Little woman she would take, as long as he didn't overdo it.

"Yes." She said with a smile and then they were out the door. When they reached the restaurant he held the door open for her, being a gentleman. Not that he was anywhere near perfect on that, but he was trying. It didn't take long for them to be seated and as the waiter brought them some wine and water, Vance glanced around. It was a nice place, with pretty murals on the walls. Nothing like the hole in the wall dump he'd known when he was alive, the place that had made the best damned pasta he'd ever tasted.

Nanao got the glass of wine but Vance just had water, sipping it slowly. She didn't ask about that… she knew his problem and that was the reason they didn't have any alcohol in the flat at all. Out in public like this, he could watch her drinking it without a problem. But having that stuff in his own home… that was tempting fate. Glancing over the menu, he checked out the appetizers.

"Hey, this beef carpaccio sounds nice." It came with parmesan cheese and toast. That sounded really good. "It'd go well with the wine." Cheese went well with wine. He remembered that much although his tastes had run to harder things. Nanao looked over the appetizers with a thoughtful look.

"Can we get the calamari as well?" She asked. She knew he didn't like calamari, the texture just didn't do it for him. He nodded though. She could have it and he'd try a bit, for variety. "Hmm…" Now they were looking at the main dishes and something caught his eye.

"Oh man, I'm getting the paella." He was pretty sure if he got pasta he'd end up comparing it to that place he couldn't go back to, the spot he'd spent a good part of his life. But paella now, that had been a rare treat. Maybe they'd even make it with real saffron. It didn't take much and really added to the flavor. "The mixta." That one had beef and chicken in it as well as seafood.

"I'm getting the gnocchi." She said decisively, closing her menu. He closed his as well, the universal sign that decisions had been made. The waiter came not long after and took their order.

The first thing out was the carpaccio and it was just amazing. Vance took a piece of toast, layering it with the sliced beef, parmesan cheese and the green stuff. Was that arugula? It had a peppery bite and was strong enough to stand up to the cured beef. The calamari was good too, for calamari. It had been lightly fried and served with a lemon sauce. He still didn't like it but he could tell it had been made well.

As they ate, they talked about all the little things. How her day had gone, how his day had gone and what they were planning to do. Nanao was going to be going over to the Eighth tomorrow because the paperwork was just a mess and what did his new fukutaichou think he was doing? Vance didn't point out that he was sure Kyoraku was hoarding papers just to see her. Although that was likely to backfire. Should he get involved? Eh, maybe, he'd think about it.

"This is the best damned paella I have ever tasted." He said approvingly as he ate it. Ah, wonderful texture and so flavorful. Savory but not spicy. "These whole shrimp are a nice touch." He said before sucking on one, getting the brains out. Mmm.

"Is that how you eat those? I've never really been sure." Nanao said and he nodded before setting aside the emptied shell.

"When they're this size, they taste like lobster." Although that was a bit funny because lobster had been cheap meat, on the coast. He'd always liked it, when it was made right anyway. Nothing worse than overcooked lobster. "Want to try one?" He'd gotten three of the big ones, there was one left.

"If you don't mind?" She said and he nodded. She forked over the crustacean. "Would you like to try the gnocchi?"

"Sure." Although he was sure it'd suffer compared to memories of his mom's home cooking. Damn the nostalgia. He was almost glad Nanao mostly cooked Japanese food. He had no frame of reference for what that should be like. The gnocchi was nice, though, silky and creamy. Just not quite as good as mom's. "It's nice." Better than anything he could have made, that was for sure.

Dessert came and went, with Vance hardly tasting it. He was too interested in the way Nanao was savoring her chocolate soufflé, the way she licked the spoon and the bliss on her face. Ah, he wanted to bone her bad now. And from the glances she gave him, the small smirk on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. How soon could they get out of here? The waiter better be prompt with the bill.

Thank god, he was. Vance checked it over quickly to make sure they weren't being overcharged before putting the cash on the table. He waited for the man to pick it up and give their change, but then they were out the door. As they walked he put an arm around her waist, holding her close, and she cuddled up. He breathed in her scent, just taking it in. That little hint of peony perfume was just so Nanao. And the way her body felt against him…

When they got home, he managed to restrain himself from attacking her, but it was a struggle. As she turned on the bedroom lights she chuckled softly, glancing at him. Then she reached for her obi, and he swallowed before reaching for his clothing. He wanted it off.

There were no words then, just naked passion. Both their kimonos ended up on the floor, rumpled and discarded as he mounted her body. But as aroused as he was, he wouldn't go to the main course too quickly. Vance kissed her, exploring her body with callused fingers. Nanao's gasp of pleasure as he tweaked her nipple, the warm scent of her arousal… ah, it was heavenly. For a moment he thought about getting the lube out but then decided against it. Tonight would be all natural.

Smiling into her face, he kissed her again before going down. Her breath caught in her throat and he knew why… he didn't do this for her every day and she loved it when he did. Well, today would be her lucky day. He gripped her thighs before sliding his tongue through her folds, pleased to find she was already wet. It was nice to be wanted. He concentrated on pleasing her then, exploring her channel and teasing her clit. She wiggled a little and her hands went through his hair, disturbing it. He hoped she didn't pull it off his left ear, although the scar had never seemed to bother her none. Ah, vanity, wasn't that a sin?

A sweet moan and tug of his hair recalled him to the task at hand. Ah, she smelled so wonderful, her musk filling his nose. How far should he take this? All the way. Yeah, that was right. He thrust his tongue into her channel, hearing her gasp as the scent of arousal got even stronger. She was close. Just a little bit more…

Her half-shriek was a wonderful sound, and so was the way her hands tightened on his scalp as her muscles flexed. He licked up the sweet dew, enjoying the taste. Giving her clit a final flick, he moved up her body, settling between her thighs. Hazy violet eyes looked up at him and he smiled at the bliss on her face. She did love it so much when he did that. Giving her a moment, he toyed with her right breast, nuzzling her throat. Then he breathed in her ear.

"You ready?" He wanted to take her so bad now. She nodded and he positioned himself before sliding past her folds, into that tight, wet warmth. She cried out softly, her thighs gripping him as he began to take her with quick, powerful thrusts. As he looked into her face, for a moment he almost saw a different face, long red-gold hair and a splotch of dark brown on pale skin…

Thankfully, that faded and all he saw was Nanao. Beautiful Nanao, caught up in the throes of passion… and then her little hand reached up, running over his scar, tracing down his neck and that grounded him even more in the moment. That scar hadn't been there before. Then he totally lost any grip on that thought as her tight heat flexed around him. Muttering a curse, he struggled for control even as he took her with increased urgency. Shit, it felt so good but he was damned if he'd let go too soon! Her soft laugh made him growl and he caught one of her nipples in his mouth, giving it a hard suck. Her startled cry and arch made him grin to himself. What a wonderful thing that was.

Gripping her hips, he adjusted the angle. He felt it as the head of his cock brushed her cervix and that was the end for them both. Her insides rippled with her second orgasm, and he exploded just a moment later, grinding against her as he filled her with hot bursts of cum.

"Shit woman, the things you do to me." He said hoarsely, resting his forehead on the pillow beside her. She reached up and stroked his scar again, making him shiver a bit. That was ticklish.

"You do the same things to me." That made him feel warm inside. They'd been forced together, really. Aizen had practically told them to take some bitches and he'd picked her at random. So it was good, knowing Nanao really wanted him. "And you're heavy." She muttered and he chuckled tiredly before lifting himself up and untangling their bodies.

"Sorry." He did that sometimes, forgetting she wasn't another arrancar. Those women wouldn't even notice his weight but she was more delicate. And to tell the truth, he loved that about her. He settled in beside her with a smile, reaching down to grip the sheet and pull it over them both. Nanao sighed, snuggling against him as the sweat began to cool. Closing his eyes, he settled in to sleep.

With any luck, he wouldn't wake up too soon.