Author's Note: Warning – lime ahead! Hope you enjoy the self-indulgent IchiRukiness of this chapter!-Lex
Chapter Three: Running with the Wind*
Rukia stood on the deck of the Soul Warrior, the stiff wind whipping her hair about her face. After two months waiting for repairs to the ship to be completed, she was more than just happy to be back at sea – she was elated. Rukia hadn't been willing to risk putting the Warrior in at a London shipyard, not with the constant influx of Navy ships and the curiosity the Warrior's disappearance had generated at Navy headquarters. The result of the remote dockage, however, was that repairs that should have only taken two weeks ended up taking more than twice as long, since parts had to be shuttled from London under cover of night to avoid arousing suspicion. Despite the delays in the repairs, it hadn't taken long cross the Atlantic, with favorable winds most of the way, the exception being a squall they hit as they approached the Florida coast.
"Renji," she shouted, over the sound of the wind, "have the men watch the sails - I'm going to harden her up! There are reports of patrols in this area and I want us at anchor before the sun rises."
"Aye, sir!" Renji shouted, walking the length of the ship and checking the sails to make sure they weren't luffing in the stiff breeze. He smiled, as the faint outline of one of the smaller Caribbean islands appeared on the horizon. Just another hour or two, and they would be out of danger, at least temporarily. The sails filled, and Renji could feel the ship's speed increase, ever so slightly.
The crew of the Soul Warrior had been particularly careful to avoid other ships on the trip across the Atlantic after their encounter with the H.M.S. Vincent six months before. Following that encounter, the only thing that was clear to both Rukia and Renji was that someone had reported their ship to the authorities as matching the description of a pirate ship operating in the warm Caribbean waters. The Warrior had not been pursuing another ship at the time, nor had there been any indication that she was a pirate ship – they had flown no flag, save the Union Jack, and their canons had been well-hidden below decks. The Warrior should have passed, undisturbed, through the patrols. Instead, however, the Vincent had approached them, firing a warning shot across their bow and Rukia, who was not willing to risk being boarded for fear of being exposed, had managed to outmaneuver the Vincent only by heading directly into the path of the approaching storm. It had been a very close call.
Renji paced up and down the decks, watching the sails to make sure they remained full. He was looking forward to the deserted beach in the small cove in which they often took refuge, the feel of the sand under his feet, and the plentiful rum on the other side of the island in the small town frequented by mariners. They would spend no more than a day hidden on the island before they would set sail for their ultimate destination.
Two hours later, the Soul Warrior dropped anchor and Renji and Rukia both breathed a sigh of relief, having seen no other ships in the area. The crew of the Warrior tidied up the sails and checked the cargo before Renji released them to take the small skiffs to shore. From the beach, they would then cross the island on foot, careful not to draw attention to themselves. The Warrior had a good crew, and a discrete one – the men would enter the harbor town in groups of twos or threes and keep a low profile. They were paid well, and they knew it - none of them would willingly risk exposure in a town full of mariners – navy men and pirates alike.
The majority of the crew now gone, Renji finished up his work below decks – inspecting the cargo again to be sure it was still well-secured, reassuring himself that the ship was in good working order and that no repairs were needed before they would set sail again. Once satisfied that the ship was sound, he headed to the captain's quarters, where he found Rukia pouring over charts, plotting their course for their next stop.
"Join me for dinner, Captain?" he asked, walking over to the large table where she stood.
"You go ahead, Renji," she said, waving him off. "I'll meet you later."
"I know you, Captain," he said with a sly smile. "You won't come later. I'll take you over myself."
"You're bordering on insubordination, Abarai," she said, wrinkling her nose at him.
"You can keel-haul me later, then," he laughed. "We've been at sea for nearly six weeks. You need to feel the land under your feet, sir."
She sighed. He was right, she knew, but she was never comfortable leaving her ship, especially when it was full of undelivered cargo.
"Jones and Thomas are staying aboard, sir," said Renji, reading her mind. "They know how to handle things if there's an emergency."
"Alright," she said, finally. "But I need to bathe and change my clothes first. I wouldn't want to frighten the natives." He smiled at her, thinking that, even in her britches and loose shirt, she looked a far cry better than any of the sailors they would see in town.
An hour later, she emerged onto the deck wearing a white gauze blouse and a black skirt with elaborate white embroidery – an outfit she had purchased in one of their regular ports of call. A thick black leather belt cinched her tiny waist, and her black hair fell loose on her shoulders. Renji, who had been tidying up the mizzen ropes for the second time, drew a deep breath at the sight of her. These clothes, more than any finery he had seen her wear in London, flattered her petite figure.
"One of these days," he thought, wistfully, "I'll tell her…" It was hardly the first time the thought had passed through his mind, that the strong woman whom he called 'Captain' might become more to him than just his commanding officer. The truth was, he had been in love with her for years, but had never gotten up the courage to tell her so. "Coward," he thought, chastising himself for his lack of courage.
"You're gawking, Renji," she laughed,.
"Sir," he said, stiffly. "It's just that you look…"
"Like a woman, for a change," she said, interrupting him.
"Not the words I would have used," he thought, slightly mortified that he had almost told her she looked beautiful.
He helped her down into a small, wooden boat tied to the side of the Warrior and rowed them over to the island. Unlike the crew, they traveled by water to the town, arriving dockside and tying up alongside the other sailing ships – Captain's prerogative. The town was already bustling, the tiny restaurants and taverns beginning to come alive as night fell.
Harbortown, as it was aptly named, was an intermediate stop for many ships passing between the United States mainland and the Caribbean islands. More than a dozen sailing vessels of various sizes were moored in the harbor, including what looked to be several American and British Royal Navy ships, judging by the canons that jutted out a various angles from their hulls. The docks were full of wooden launches from the larger ships, and the cobblestone streets were full of men in uniform, as well as privateers. Vendors lined the docks, displaying goods from as far away as China, hoping to lure the mariners to their makeshift stalls with outrageous claims as to the medicinal properties of their elixirs, or hawking so-called 'magical' trinkets.
Renji and Rukia ignored the vendors and headed for the main street, down which they would find the establishment they often frequented, a tiny tavern called "The Pelican's Roost." The proprietor of the Roost, as it was affectionately called by the regulars, was an old friend of Renji's, Matsumoto Rangiku, a stunning woman with large breasts which spilled out of her laced corset and who had an even larger personality with which she warmly welcomed her clientele.
"Renji!" she shouted, embracing the red-head so tightly, he thought he might never breathe again. "I've missed you!" Then she turned to Rukia, smiling and kissing her on both cheeks. "I saw some of your crew, and I hoped you two would follow. I've saved you a table." She gestured to a round table in the back corner of the tavern, hidden partly in shadows. "We've had a few navy officers hanging around town today," Rangiku said, with a wink. "I thought you might appreciate a bit of privacy."
"Thank you, Rangiku," said Rukia, as they were seated.
Several minutes later, Rangiku returned with a pitcher of rum punch – Rukia's favorite – and an unadulterated bottle for Renji. She sat down next to them and poured drinks all around, including one for herself, which she downed in one swallow.
"So," she said, with a slight hiccup, "I heard you ran into the Vincent on your return to England."
Renji scowled and took a swig from the bottle. "Damn navy brats," he said, replacing the bottle on the table with such gusto that droplets of rum flew into the air.
"Down, boy," laughed Rangiku.
Rukia shot Renji a look of warning. "I'd prefer you not alert the entire town that we're here, Renji."
Renji turned slightly pink and mumbled an apology.
"Good advice," said Rangiku, lowering her voice. "The Vincent is here, in port." Renji growled something unintelligible and Rukia looked slightly concerned.
"Do you think they know the Warrior is here, Rangiku?" asked Rukia, as Rangiku filled both of their glasses with more punch.
"Probably not," Rangiku replied, tossing her hair back out of her face. "But they are definitely looking for something or someone."
"I'm pretty sure someone gave them a description of the Warrior, and that's how they found us before," said Rukia, sipping her punch slowly.
"Probably Captain Soles," grumbled Renji, eyes narrowed. "He's still angry that I beat him at cards the last time we were here."
"More likely it was our competition," said Rukia. "Your card playing isn't all that impressive."
"I won us that cow," said Renji, who by now had finished nearly half the bottle of rum, and was feeling no pain.
"True," said Rukia, laughing now. "Far be it for me to complain about fresh milk on an ocean crossing. Still, I don't think it was him."
"Probably one of the new pirates," said Rangiku, darkly. "Nasty bunch, too."
"You talking about Captain Aizen and his band of merry men?" asked Renji, with a bit of swagger.
"Not so merry, I'm told," laughed Rangiku.
"I've heard tell of them," said Rukia, swirling the punch around in her glass now. "They take no prisoners and they burn ships, if they don't think they can use the ships themselves."
"Rumor is that Aizen has some friends in the British Royal Navy, friends in high places," Rangiku added.
"The Vincent needs to stop following us around, and go after the real riffraff," said Renji, downing another mouthful of rum.
"Renji," said Rukia, standing up abruptly. "I need to take care of something. I'll be back in a while."
Renji looked at Rukia knowingly and nodded. "If you're not back in an hour," he said, "I'm coming after you." Rukia laughed and walked out of the tavern.
"Still haven't told her, have you, Abarai?" said Rangiku, shaking her head.
"Nah," he said, gulping down what remained of the rum.
"Coward," she laughed, putting her arm around him. "Of course, that means there still some of you left for me."
Out on the docks, Rukia quickly slipped into a small building with a number of shipping offices, including one marked, 'Kuchiki Enterprises, Ltd.'. It took her only a few minutes to send two dispatches, one to London, addressed to her brother, Byakuya, and the other to the captain of the Kuchiki ship, Bright Horizons, she knew to be in port. Satisfied that she had done all she could to ensure the safety of her ship and cargo, she walked quickly back onto the docks towards the Roost.
A few yards from her destination, she stopped to lean against the wooden dock rails and watch the moon rising above the harbor. Despite the firm ground beneath her feet, Rukia still felt the telltale sway of the boat. She smiled. She liked the rocking of the ocean, even if it was just her mind playing tricks on her body.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" A familiar voice, from behind her.
"You?" she said, surprised.
"Quite a coincidence, meeting here, isn't it, Kuchiki Rukia?" said Ichigo, grinning back at her. His orange hair was neatly brushed back, and he looked quite handsome in his dark blue uniform trimmed with gold, hat in hand.
"It is quite a coincidence," she said, guessing that their meeting here was anything but that. She was glad she had known the Vincent was in port, although it still troubled her that its captain had somehow known she would be here.
"So, Rukia," he said, knowing he had her at a disadvantage, "what brings you to Harbortown? This isn't exactly the kind of place I would have expected you to frequent."
"Of course it is," she thought, wryly, "and you knew it, too."
"I often travel for business, Ichigo," she said, with a smile. "I'm here to inspect the Bright Horizons – one of our flagships." She gestured to one of the ships that sat at anchor, in the harbor.
If he was surprised by her response, he hid it well. "Care to join me for dinner, then?" he asked, without missing a beat. "Cook is quite good. I'm sure he could fix us up something aboard the Vincent."
"Thank you," she said, giving him her best demure, feminine smile - to be given the opportunity to inspect the vessel up close was an offer she knew she couldn't refuse. Renji would be furious that she had ventured so far into the enemy camp, but he would get over it.
"Let me send word, then," he said, smiling. "Cook does not like surprises." He walked over to a man waiting on the docks who saluted Ichigo, and who Rukia figured must be one of the Vincent's crew. Ichigo whispered the crewman some instructions, and the man saluted again before hopping onto one of the small dingys and rowing out into the harbor.
"I thought we might follow at a more leisurely pace," he said, with a smile, gesturing to another dingy and stepping inside. He then reached out his hand to help her in, and pulled up the oars. As promised, he rowed them slowly across the harbor, between the large ships. She paid little attention to the vessels anchored about them, but instead watched him with interest.
He was not a large man, she noted, although even through the heavy fabric of his wool uniform she could see the outline of strong arm and shoulder muscles. His face was tanned from months spent at sea, but he looked to be no more than thirty years old – far younger than any other military captain she had ever met. At his waist, he wore a sword and pistol, as did most British Royal Navy officers. The hilt of his sword, however, did not resemble the standard military issue, but was black, with a flat guard and a small chain hanging from the end.
"Have I told you that you look quite lovely tonight, Rukia?" he asked after a while, smiling at her.
"I have heard the Navy sends its officers to 'charm' school," she replied, dryly. "It appears the training is rather good."
"I have learned it is always best to tell the truth," he replied, with a grin, as they pulled alongside the Vincent. A young officer saluted at Ichigo and gave them a hand up the ladder.
"Care for a tour?" he asked her, casually.
"Of course," she replied, doing her best to look only moderately interested in the suggestion.
The vessel, as expected, was quite impressive, both in looks and in functionality. Ichigo, not surprisingly, kept a very tight ship. Every surface of the deck gleamed and every brass fitting and the wood itself was highly polished. The ropes were immaculate – perfectly wound on the decks, and tightened so that they did not come into contact with the ship herself except where absolutely necessary. Rukia smiled. In many ways, this ship looked a great deal like her own – well cared-for and loved. She had no doubt that this was a reflection of the Vincent's captain's affection for the vessel.
"She is a beautiful ship," said Rukia, honestly, as they descended the steps to the captain's quarters which, as on the Warrior, were located aft, overlooking the stern.
"Thank you," replied Ichigo and, despite his well-controlled exterior, she could see pride reflected in his brown eyes. "I am very proud of her."
"As well you should be," she replied, as they walked into his quarters.
Like those on her own ship, the captain's quarters were quite large. Dark paneling lined the walls, and several large paintings of maritime battles were hung over the panels. An oriental rug of deep reds and blues covered the floor, and, through a small doorway, Rukia could see a large four-poster bed. By the bank of windows that looked out over the stern, a small table had been set for two. Next to the table, a bottle of wine sat chilling on ice, a commodity not easily come by in this tropical environment. Ichigo walked over to the wine and filled the two glasses, handing one to Rukia and taking the other for himself.
"Safe voyages," he said, raising his glass to her.
"Safe voyages," she repeated, following suit and lifting the glass to her lips.
"Are you staying aboard the Bright Horizons, then?" he asked.
"Yes," she lied easily. "Captain Johns is sailing for Antigua in three days to pick up cargo."
"Will you stay on in Harbortown after that?" Ichigo asked.
"I'm not sure," she answered, taking another sip of wine. "I am awaiting a communiqué from my brother with my instructions."
There was a slight creaking sound from the cabin door, and a young boy entered, bearing a tray full of steaming food.
"Thank you, George," Ichigo said, as the boy unloaded the tray. "You can take the rest of the evening at your leisure. I'll take it from here."
The cabin boy looked slightly surprised, but then saluted and left them alone again.
"The rest of the evening?" repeated Rukia, with a sly smile. "Are you planning on more company, then?"
"No other company. I had only hoped you might consider staying for a while after dinner," Ichigo said. "If it is not too forward of me to ask, of course. I'd be happy to escort you back to the Bright Horizons afterwards."
"It is quite forward of you, Captain Kurosaki," she replied with a smile, "but I'll consider your invitation."
Dinner, as promised, was delicious - a simple meal consisting of fresh fish, local root vegetables, and a delicate orange custard for dessert. They discussed many different topics – shipping, sailing, the British economy, and the looming fight in the United States over the propriety of slavery. Whether by design or by coincidence, however, no mention was made by either of them of pirates or the Navy's patrols of the Caribbean Sea.
Rukia, as always, was surprised at how much she enjoyed spending time with the orange-haired Navy captain. After she had let him kiss her on the balcony of the Kuchiki House – and let him kiss her she had, regardless of what Ichigo himself believed – Rukia had often found her thoughts straying to him when she and Renji had discussed the Vincent and the attack which had nearly sunk the Warrior. If they hadn't been on such opposite sides of the equation, she would have made it her business to have seen him again in London before departing. She knew full well that it was far safer to keep him at a distance, but she found his charming manner and quick wit a very tempting diversion. It had been a long time since she had done more than just dined with a man.
"Join me for an after-dinner drink, then?" Ichigo asked, opening a well-stocked cabinet filled with various cut-glass bottles containing various liqueurs.
"I'd like that," Rukia replied, not wanting to leave yet. "Thank you."
He poured two glasses of special rum, an aged variety found only in the West Indies, and something of a rarity, at that.
"I'm surprised you accepted my offer, Rukia," he said, with a amiable grin.
"You have only asked me to join you in an after dinner drink," she observed wryly. "And, besides, you have been nothing but a gentleman up until this point." Their glasses touched, and she felt the warm liquid heat her tongue and throat, letting it sit in her mouth for a few seconds, before swallowing it. She felt her shoulders relax slightly as the alcohol entered her bloodstream.
Ichigo tugged at his collar, experiencing the same heat as she, and she found herself laughing at him.
"What's so funny?" he said, mildly irritated.
"Nothing," she said, with a smirk. "I just find it astonishing that, for all its power and technical prowess, the British Royal Navy cannot find clothing better suited to a tropical climate than boiled wool."
He said nothing, but chuckled softly. Then, to his great surprise, she walked over to him and began to unbutton his jacket. She could feel his body stiffen slightly at her touch, and she suppressed a laugh at his obvious discomfort.
"I am not going to ravish you, Captain Kurosaki," she said, laughing softly. Silently, however, the thought had occurred to her, and she imagined far more than just removing his jacket.
"It's been far too long," she thought, with a sigh. "But this man is definitely not one to toy with. He's far too dangerous."
The jacket now sitting upon an empty chair, she walked over to the window, wishing to put some distance between the two of them. She could see the lights of Harbortown and the anchor lights of several of the neighboring vessels in port. The moon was high above, casting a silvery shimmer on the glassy surface of the water.
"It's a bit warm in here," he said, from behind her, walking over to one of the windows and opening it wide. The cool night breeze blew into the cabin, and Rukia was thankful for it – she was feeling far hotter than from just the effects of the rum.
"Damn," she thought. "Anyone else and…" This thought was interrupted by his hand on her shoulder. Rather than turn to face him, she took another sip of her drink, forcing herself to focus on the taste of the alcohol, rather than on the musky scent of him close to her.
"I think it's time for me to leave," she said, realizing that whatever resolve she had to remain uninvolved with him was fading fast. She turned towards the door, not realizing until it was too late that he had moved, and she nearly walked right into him.
He smiled, like a man who had just realized he had just won the fight, and pulled her against him, kissing her roughly. "I'm going to regret this," she thought, weakly, returning the kiss with nearly as much fire. She reminded herself she was no longer an innocent girl, but a grown woman and captain of her own ship – perfectly capable of appreciating the finer things in life such as good food, aged rum, or…an attractive man. Her decision now made, Rukia acted as she did with any other challenge to which she committed herself – she dove in wholeheartedly, and without hesitation.
She unlaced his white linen shirt, finding the hard muscles beneath with their smooth, silky skin, and exploring them with relish. She heard him moan softly, and she smiled with the knowledge that she had that effect upon him. Never shy and retiring in her lovemaking, she pushed again, removing his shirt so that he stood before her half-naked in the lamplight. Eager to see the expression on his face, she looked up and saw what could only be described as an evil grin – the look of a man who was in control, and willing her to take the first step.
"So that's how it's going to be," she thought, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Fine. Let the skirmish begin."
She ran her hands through his slicked-back hair, gently caressing the sensitive spot behind his ears, and pulling his head down to her height. Now under her control, she lightly ran her lips over his neck, biting lightly on his earlobe, and breathing into his ear. She knew she had achieved the intended effect when he inhaled, sharply, at the slight probe of her tongue in his ear. But the battle was only beginning, the opening salvo in a far larger war just launched.
"Now who is being forward here?" he laughed, pushing her back onto the table full of maps and charts, relegating them to the floor with one sweep of his arm. Then, with an apparently practiced move of his hand, her blouse flew on the breeze and landed, unceremoniously, on one of the chairs nearby. He growled with pleasure as his eyes traveled over her breasts and the creamy white skin of her neck and shoulders. And, as she had done, he explored her body with comfortable ease, kissing her neck, shoulders and breasts. She could smell him now, more intensely than before, and she found herself breathing in the scent of him, wishing she could bottle it and keep it with her for the long nights of ocean crossings.
Her belt and skirt were easily removed, as well, and she heard him laugh softly at how easy it was to pick her up in his arms and carry her to the four-poster in the adjoining room, so tiny was she. Standing by the bed, he shed the remainder of his clothing and she watched him with growing appreciation, noting the powerful thighs and golden hue of his skin in the lamplight. She stood up in front of him and, with surprisingly strong arms, pulled him onto the bed with her. This time he laughed, a deep and throaty laugh, and threw himself back into lovemaking, careful not to crush her beneath him.
"I won't break," she said, laughing too. "I'm far stronger than you think, Captain." He grinned broadly and kissed her squarely on the lips, before allowing them to travel to the other, more secreted areas of her body.
And so the battle was waged, with neither side, and both sides, the victors. When they could stand sparring no more, their bodies joined with a depth of pleasure that neither of them had quite expected, leaving both of them spent and satisfied, lying next to each other on the bed, panting.
"You never cease to surprise me, Lady Kuchiki," Ichigo whispered in her ear, as he caught his breath.
"Nor do you," she answered, shivering in response to his breath on her neck.
They lay there in silence, her head on his chest, and she could hear his heart beat. After an hour or so, when she found herself fighting the urge to sleep, she forced herself to stand up. "I need to be going," she said, retracing her steps to find the pieces of her clothing which were scattered across the main room. "It's getting quite late."
"I'll have someone escort you to the Bright Horizons," he said, pulling on his pants and watching her dress with regret. He would have liked another opportunity to spar with her.
"Thank you," she said, wishing he hadn't offered her the escort to the ship – she really didn't want to board the Bright Horizons - she knew she would have to return to the Warrior before morning light or risk Renji's wrath. By now, she knew, he would be beside himself with worry and would have half of the crew roaming the streets, looking for her.
"Thank you for an enjoyable evening," she said, as he helped her into the small launch that would take her across the harbor. "The food was quite…delicious."
He smiled knowingly and released her hand. As the small boat drew away from the Vincent, Shuuhei silently joined Ichigo on deck, standing at his right.
"Nice evening, sir?" he inquired, with a grin.
"Quite," replied Ichigo, not taking his eyes off the boat which carried Rukia. "She's an intriguing woman."
"Apparently, Captain," replied Shuuhei, doing his best to keep a straight face.
"I'm going back to my cabin."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered Shuuhei.
"Oh, and Hisagi," said Ichigo.
"Sir?"
"Watch her. Follow her when she leaves the merchant ship."
"When she leaves the ship?" asked Hisagi, surprised.
"When she leaves - she will not stay long."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Ichigo turned and walked back to his cabin. "Until we meet again, Kuchiki Rukia," he thought with a grin.
*"Running with the wind" means, in sailing terms, that you are sailing more than about 160° away from the wind.