Fifth time lucky! Surely there's an easier way to edit the content of your chapters without replacing the whole damn thing? Gah.

Happy Birthday, Rukia.

Author: Anja Foley.
Fandom: Bleach.
Pairing: Renji/Rukia; Ichigo/Orihime implied.
Rating: M, for naughtiness and Renji's dirty mouth.
Genre: Fluff/Humour, AU/Future fic.
Word Count: 1080.
Spoilers: Only if you don't know who Renji is.
Summary: Renji, Rukia, and cake.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does, and I don't think he's sharing. Woe.

Notes: This was supposed to be finished for Rukia's birthday in January (omgsolate), but I'm notoriously bad with deadlines and out of sheer laziness this didn't get posted before I moved house. It's been sitting on my computer ever since. I've never written RenRuki before, and this is currently unbeta-ed, so constructive criticism is welcome! If I've ruined either of their characters spectacularly, I'd really prefer to know so I can take my shame and go back to lurking in the IchiHime fandom.

"Oi, Rukia!" Renji slid open the door to his Vice-Captain's private quarters with rather more force than necessary, making no attempt to hide his foul mood. The bitch had been ordered to report to him over an hour ago when she returned from her assignment in the Actual World, but he hadn't seen hide nor hair of her yet. The fact she'd been running around in Karakura with Ichigo on this particular appointment did nothing to improve the bad temper of the newly-appointed Captain of the Fifth Division.

His irritation only increased at finding Rukia sitting cross-legged on the floor of her quarters with her back to the door, leaning over something that – although holding her attention to the point that she didn't even bother to look at him, damn it – hardly seemed so pressing she couldn't have dragged her sorry ass to him and made her report.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he scowled, stomping across the polished floorboards towards her.

Aside from an unladylike snort, Rukia didn't answer. For one sweet moment he thought about grabbing a fistful of her hair and physically dragging her head back to get her attention, before he dismissed the impulse just as quickly. Abarai Renji might have been many things, but he certainly wasn't suicidal. Instead, he settled for poking her firmly in the ribs with his foot.

"Look at me when I talk to you, damn it. And what the hell is that?"

Rukia shifted away from the prodding of his bare toes, revealing the object of her rapt attention to be the biggest baked monstrosity Renji had ever seen. "Inoue made it for me," she explained distractedly, her tiny frame hunched almost double over the huge cake again, like she expected it to suddenly disappear on her, "I mentioned my death day was coming up and she insisted that I needed a cake for some reason."

"Well that's fucking morbid," Renji said, raising his eyebrows. From what he could gather, Inoue Orihime appeared to have more than a few screws loose, "She make it herself?"

"She made Ichigo help," Rukia replied with a certain wicked glee that suggested she liked nothing better than the idea of Ichigo suffering. Knowing her, Renji thought dryly, it probably wasn't that far from the truth.

"You're a cruel bitch, you know that?" He was unable to keep the affection from his voice, a smirk tugging at his lips. The idea of the bubbly Inoue coercing a fiercely protesting Ichigo into helping her bake a cake for Rukia really was an amusing one. Damn kid couldn't refuse the girl anything.

Rukia looked hurt, and drew her horrendous cake closer to her protectively.

"I was going to share with you," she lied, frowning up at him, "But now I guess I'll just have to eat it by myself."

Rolling his eyes at her theatrics, Renji crouched beside her with a grunt, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek.

Not at all surprised by the sudden change in his temper, Rukia blinked up at him in expectation, her dark eyelashes fluttering closed as he cupped the back of her skull firmly in one large hand and bent his head to kiss her.

For a moment her attention focused entirely on him, which was exactly the way Renji liked it. Her lips parted willingly beneath his, and she made a low noise of pleasure deep in her throat as he swept his tongue possessively across the inside of her mouth. Her hands clutched at the front of his robes with a desperation she'd never admit, and Renji was tempted to take her right there and then on the floor, to mark her as his own with his demanding touch on her pale skin.

From the dizzying way she was responding, it was obvious she wouldn't have objected; her tiny hands skillfully pushed aside his robes to caress the complex series of tattoos that lined his bare chest, but Renji currently had a very different goal in mind. And in its own way, this was a more effective punishment for ignoring his orders than any other he could have devised.

Breaking the kiss, Renji leaned across her easily and ran one finger through the thick layer of icing spread on top of the cake. While Rukia stared at him open-mouthed, her eyes still dazed and heavy with thwarted desire, he stuck the icing-covered finger in his mouth.

Instantly he regretted his sneaky act, as he tried in vain to spit out the foul taste, cursing heatedly while he spluttered. Whatever that bloody girl had put into the cake, it sure as hell wasn't chocolate. Ichigo had obviously gotten his revenge. Clearly, Inoue's seemingly generous – though morbid – gesture was really a cruel plot to poison the diminutive Shinigami at his side, who was currently turning various shades of purple.

"You ass!" Rukia shouted, incensed, more pissed that he'd tricked her than that he'd actually touched her cake. She'd been contemplating it rather warily when Renji stormed into her room, having heard far too much about Orihime's cooking – even with Ichigo there to supervise – to actually try the thing.

Renji made a face as she thumped him furiously, catching her upper arms in a firm grip and drawing her, resisting, towards him. Somehow they ended up on the floor, him lying on his back and Rukia sitting on his chest, still struggling against his hold.

The way she was squirming on top of him was rather enticing, and Renji moved his hands to her slender hips to steady her, sliding his palms slowly down to her bare thighs.

Surprised, Rukia stopped fighting, and Renji seized the chance to flip her easily over onto her back, settling his weight carefully above her. His long fingers made short work of the simple knot holding her robe together, and he nipped at the flushed skin of her long, white throat, enjoying the way she arched beneath him at the prick of his sharp teeth.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rukia snapped at him, but her fingers threaded tightly through his long hair and she let her head fall back to allow him better access. She gasped, and Renji chuckled as his free hand splayed across her warm, naked stomach, sliding purposefully lower.

"Idiot," he smirked against her skin, pressing slow kisses to the marks he'd left on her neck lovingly, "Don't you want to find out what I got you?"

Fin.

Comments are love! And "constructive criticism please!" does NOT mean "feel free to leave me stupid, misspelled flames". Just so we're clear. Thanks!