Authors Note: So, I got random inspiration and my creativity was in desperate need of an outlet, and TA-DA! I vomited a snippit of a bleach fic. Uuuuum, it happens. Anyway, it needs a bit of a back story. Rukia is climbing the coorperate ladder while Ichigo is gaining popularity with his rock band. The way I see them meeting is that the office throws a party for her boss and books Ichigo's band. They're just aquaintances at this point, but he enjoys annoying the crap out of Rukia.

I'm With You

Avril Lavigne's first cd was blaring through Rukia's ipod while she alternated between doing up the dishes and dancing across the slick tiled floor of her kitchen. It was completely juvenile and embarrassing, especially considering her current attire, but in the privacy of her own home she didn't care. A silky black button down that would usually look strikingly professional hung of her shoulders carelessly, her hair was falling from its clip, her deep purple underwear just barely showed under her shirt. Rukia's socked feet helped her slide beautifully into a spin as she held up a sudsy wooden spoon like a microphone as she cried out,

"won't somebody come take me home?

It's a damn cold night!

Trying to figure out this life

Won't you: take me by the hand take me somewhere new,"

"Nice vocals. Although, I can safely say I'd never let you be one of my back up singers," a male voice casually drawled out somewhere to her left. Rukia loosed a brief but intense scream as she rushed around her island counter to hide her state of undress.

"Jesus Ichigo! How did-" she began to ask until her eyes landed on the open window by her fire escape where a cool night breeze was making her gauzy curtains billow slightly. The bastard had snuck in through her window! Her music must have been too loud for her to hear.

"You still listen to Avril Lavigne?" the man snorted before prying her fridge open to rummage around. Rukia's mouth hung open in shock for a moment before she recovered enough to respond.

"And what makes you think you have the right to break into a private residence, criticize my music and steal my food, you delinquent punk?" she snapped with a sharp edge to her voice.

"Hm?" A ridiculously messy orange haired head popped into sight from behind the fridge door with the end of a strawberry sticking out of his mouth. She had to fight the intense urge to burst out laughing. It was a miracle she kept a strait face. "I had a gig tonight and the guys went to an after-party to get plastered. I wasn't feeling that scene."

"So, what? You figured you would just come over here and bug me instead?"

Ichigo replied with an annoyingly endearing lopsided smile, "Yeah." There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to laugh, to tell him off, find out how the hell he knew where she lived.

Instead she crossed her arms and grumbled, "For your information, I would be an excellent back up singer." Sharp orange eyebrows shot up in shock. She smirked softly to herself at his response. Most people thought she was an uptight business woman all day everyday, but the rule was that professionalism went out the window when she got home. She let her few quirks go insane at home because, ironically, it kept her sane. She snapped out of it quickly. No, this was wrong because no one was supposed to see her like this least of all Ichigo. She couldn't begin to imagine how many ways this nuisance could hold her home life over her head. That's the last thing she needed, so she went to pause the music.

"No, don't stop it. I always thought this song would be perfect for a slow dance," Ichigo's large hand shot out to halt her delicate one. It was her turn to raise a precisely plucked eyebrow, was he secretly a romantic under all that- rocker style?. She ran a quick scan over him. His skinny jeans were artfully torn in places, making them impractical for the harsh New York winter, a hooded jacket was layered on top of a thin black v-neck that accentuated a rail thin but hard frame. A silver chain and a leather cord hung around his neck, more than one belt kept the pants around his hips. His face was laking most of the intensity of his usual scowl and . . .

"Are you wearing guy liner?"

"Are you wearing pants?"

Her head snapped down before she tore out of the room as fast as her bare legs could carry her, "SHIT!" She could hear Ichigo howling with laughter and it just made her face burn hotter. He was going to pay for this.

She had just pulled her pajama pants over her bottom when two hasty raps echoed from her door followed by prompt entry.

"I don't remember telling you to come in," Rukia snapped.

The rocker sauntered over, checking out her room, "Relax Kuchiki, I've already seen you pants-less. Where's the harm?"

"Get out." She was thoroughly ignored.

"What's with all the creepy bunnies?" He asked glancing at her chappy poster and a little plastic chappy, then taking her stuffed chappy from the satin sheets of her bed.

Rukia snatched it back quickly, "Chappy's not creepy! He's cute and happy and free spirited." She pet her sleeping mate affectionately to sooth him after being man handled. "Besides, there's not that many." Save for those few blossoms of cuteness, the rest of her room was quite elegant with clean lines and tasteful accents.

The orange haired rocker slung an arm over her shoulders, "It's alright, I won't judge you for your weird fetish."

"It's not a fetish!" Rukia practically shrieked. She had to close her eyes and take a breath to keep herself from ranting. It was obvious from his dark chuckle that Ichigo was just trying to get a rise from her. Instead she shoved his heavy arm off her with no small amount of effort and wrinkled her nose, "You stink of sweat and mosh pit B.O."

"Yeah, sorry. Occupational hazard."

"Take a shower before I pass out from your fumes."

"Here?"

"Sure. I should have some cloths from an old ex that would fit you."

"Huh. So there are men interested in dating midgets?"

She didn't rise to the bait this time, ". . . Maybe I should call the police and tell them a pervert broke in to peep at me. I'm sure the tabloids would be all over that story. An up and coming rock star preys on beautiful, innocent women, and then there'd be a bit on your career crashing and burning."

"You fight dirty."

Rukia found the cloths she'd been looking for and chucks them at Ichigo's stupid blanching face and then turns to get him a towel.

When the water was finally running she could hear his strong clear voice singing an old Avril Lavigne song and Rukia couldn't keep the wide smile from her face. Thats when she casually let herself in for a brief moment.

"Oi, midget, I'm flattered you came to join me but- AAAAAGH!" After flushing the toilet Rukia left Ichigo to suffer under the brief spell of icy water.

A/N: I'm terrible at actually finishing stories. If anyone thinks this deserves to continue let me know. Twas pretty fun to write :)