Deadline
(prompt: news)
Rangiku fluffed her hair and adjusted her cleavage before grabbing the small pile of papers and heading out the door. Her new advice column and horiscopes for the Seireitai News was late for its deadline, which was the previous afternoon. Despite her tardiness, and the publication's supposedly strict deadlines, she knew that she'd have no problem making it in, because, as luck would have it, the new editor happened to have a bit of the thing for her.
It was going to be simple. First, she would strut into the editor's office and lean over as far as she could while handing him her column. Then, she would innocently act as if she didn't really mean to be late, of course, still while leaning over. In her final act, she'd inquire about the progress of the paper, walking behind his desk, to look over his shoulder and making sure that certain things remain in view. Despite what many may have thought about her, she was only willing to work what assets she already showed off and maybe engage in a little innocent flirting to get her way, nothing more.
Upon entering through the gates of the ninth division, she noticed that she gathered noticeably more attention than she previously had in her own division.
"Is Hisagu-fukutaicho in his office?" she asked a random group of division members. One in particular seemed quite flushed when she'd stopped in front of him to speak. She chuckled to herself as he stammered out a weak yeah. Smiling and thanking him, she headed to the office, still clutching the papers she'd just finished writing.
"He's been in there for a long time," the nervous shinigami managed as she walked away. Again she thanked him and continued to the office.
It seemed oddly quiet when she walked into the main office. Just after the deadline, she would have thought it'd be full of staff trying to get the layout together so the publication would be out at its expected date. Then again, what did she know. She was never in the ninth division, so she never had the duty of working on the Communication Bulletin. She continued on to the captain's office, which was now occupied by Shuuhei in the absence of his captain.
"Shuuhei," she asked as she knocked on the door. No answer, so she knocked and repeated his name a little louder this time. Still nothing. She was able to turn the knob, so he hadn't locked himself in again. Slowly letting herself in and closing the door behind her, she could see the reason why he wasn't answering: he was sitting at his desk, sleeping.
Walking up to get a closer look, she couldn't help but think the sight of him sleeping at his desk with his head on his folded arms was just far too cute. Although she knew otherwise, anyone meeting Shuuhei for the first time would think the man was a refugee of the 11th division. The scars, the tattoos, and even the sharp shape of his eyes made him look potentially intimidating. Seeing him now, his often harsh-looking expression had disappeared as he slept, and what was left looked almost boyish.
Something stood out in the pile of papers under his sleeping form. It was layout mockups. They had been working on finishing the issue. Her eyes roamed over the papers to see one in particular at the top of the pile. It had a narrow column of text, but the majority of the page was left open with the characters for her name scribbled in.
Maybe he really had been waiting for her. She wondered if he'd stayed there the whole night or just stayed late and came in early, not getting much sleep as a result. Either way, she hoped that there were other late columns that he was waiting for. The idea that he was so diligently waiting for her while she procrastinated didn't sit well with her, but it didn't exactly surprise her either.
Setting the paper on his desk, she took another look at him. She reached out, softly brushed aside a few unruly strands of hair, leaned down, and kissed him on the cheek, just under his tattoo. She wasn't exactly sure what compelled her to do that, but it made her smile.
On her way out, she noticed a blanket was strewn over a sofa. Grabbing it, she walked back over to Shuuhei and softly placed it over him. If he was sleeping in his office because of her, he at least should stay warm. After that, she quickly left and made her way back to her office and a captain, who was probably angrily waiting for her.
***
Shuuhei groaned as he felt himself wake. Sleeping bent over his desk as he did made his body feel heavy. He twisted a squirmed in his chair as an attempt to stretch his aching back, and his half-awake mind made the realization that there was something covering him that hadn't been covering as he slept. Reaching back, he felt a blanket covering and sat up, letting it slide off of him. It was the blanket that he usually draped over the couch. Someone must have put it over him when he slept.
Slowly, he stood and made his way over to the couch to put the blanket back in its place. Going back to his desk, he noticed a short stack of pale pink paper with his name scribbled on it. He didn't need to look at any more pages to know that it was Rangiku's. Seeing her column turned in, he rushed it to the main editing room to see only a few people milling about.
"I've just received Matsumoto-fukutaicho's column," he said setting the papers that included the layout page for her column down in front of the handful of division members now working. Instead of seeing them quickly get to work, he was met with blank stares.
"Um," one of the females softly stated. "Hisagi-fukutaicho, you…you have something on your face," she softly said pointing to her left cheek. She reached into the sleeve of her uniform, pulled out a compact, and handed it to him. He was a bit befuddled by what would be on his face besides maybe a few creases on his skin from sleeping.
What he saw when looked into the mirror of the compact surprised him. It was the faint shape of lips in a soft coral color. Someone who wore lipstick had kissed him. Still a little groggy from his nap, it took a second to connect the dots, but when he did, he could feel a blush creep up on his cheeks.
Quickly he handed the compact back to the woman, excused himself, and went back to his office. It was when he got back in that he remembered the blanket was draped over him. His mind went over the scene of her coming into his office to drop off her column, kissing him on the cheek, and kindly draping the blanket over him. If that's the kind of treatment he got from her when she was late, then, no matter how much work it was going to be to get everything back on schedule, maybe it wasn't really so bad.
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