A/N: Part 3! Kisses 11-15

Suggested listening: "The Thunder Rolls" by Garth Brooks

Theme #11: Gardenia

It was barren.

And it was cold.

He pulled his robes tighter about him, refusing to shiver.

Refusing to show weakness.

His quarters were spacious but Spartan and he had had to admit, he missed Soul Society. Where Hueco Mundo was desolate, Soul Society brimmed with life, and color, and smells.

Here, there was a false blue sky, and the same white clouds, the same white sand, the same black, endless space above, and the same white moon. Invariably, at times, a splash of color would appear in the form of an Arrancar's hair, or facial tattoos.

The color he missed the most…could never be found. To be sure, there was more than one golden haired Arrancar, Di Roy and Illforte were fine examples of blond at its best, but there was just something lacking there.

He would stare at them blankly, from his position behind his pillar, a silent observer of all that Aizen did and all that was reported back to him by his children. For that was what they were…perverse, fallen souls, all of them, wicked and malicious, all power hungry and deceitful to their own brothers and sisters, much like he.

His hands wanted to touch those golden strands, to hold them close as he paced the halls at night, running his fingers along those flawless walls, every touch just as frigid and bone chilling as ever.

It had been almost a month when he had seen her, in a report, her golden hair flying in the wind as she encountered one of Grimmjow's Fraccion, and when she had triumphed, her hair dancing behind her, he had unclenched a fist that was holding his outer white robe with entirely too much force, his palm bleeding from where he had pushed so hard.

And in his rooms that night, as he lay there, he had glanced at his robes, and saw something astonishing.

There, where he had never encountered it before, was a single, golden hair.

He lifted it, gently, winding its strand like the thread of fate around his fingers, curling it and placing it inside a white box beside his bed, locking it with kidou, the lid sweeping a smell of spring Gardenias, kissing him on the face, barely there, almost like something calling to him from far away.

He sighed, hard into his pillow, tugging it tightly down into his body, hugging it like a lifeline, his eyes shoved into it as he muttered out a single, desperate syllable.

"Ran…"

Theme #12: In a Good Mood

For as long as Matsumoto Rangiku had known Ichimaru Gin, she had never, ever seen him stop smiling. Every morning, every evening, even while he slept, his same, perverse, lackluster smirk mocked everything he did.

He smiled while he ate, he smiled while he fought, and most certainly, he smiled at her.

It was almost eerie how he was never angry, or sad. She had never seen him raise his voice (at the most he raised his eyebrows) and never, ever did anyone speak ill of him. Worried about his sanity, yes, but spoken ill of, never.

She walked the hallways of Sereitei, her hands trailing along the railings, her feet padding softly on the tenth division's wooden floors, every movement slow and deliberate, her lips pursed in a matter of internal reflection. It had been days since he had left on his mission, she knew—because the papers with his orders had been transported through her to his quarters by command of Commander Yamamoto.

She knew he would return, still smiling, as always, his robes floating behind him, successful, the epitome of a calm, cool, and altogether infuriating Captain of the Gotei 13.

Huffing moodily, she slid her hand under her chin, staring out over the railings into a pond below, the early leaves of fall hitting the water, making it ripple with dancer-like grace.

She barely felt the reiatsu behind her until it was too late. Large hands enveloped her own small ones, sliding them beneath her breasts to pull her back into a firm embrace, hair swept over her neck as lips nibbled playfully on her skin, causing her to gasp.

"Gin…" she whispered, catching the sight of his face in the rippling water, his eyes opening slightly, their green-blue catching her gaze in reflection only, his smile fading as he rested his cheek against her own.

"Ran…" he whispered, his lips barely moving as she turned her head towards him, her eyes staring straight into his own.

"Where have you been?" she whispered, as he turned her to face him, pinning her against the railing with his body.

"On my mission" he replied, coyly, his smirk reappearing on his face.

"Really…" she replied, sarcasm dripping in her tone as she tried to turn away from him.

"I got you something…" he murmured, pulling her closer to him, his hands on the small of her back.

"Like what?" she asked, her eyes watching him warily. She had never seen him like this before, his eyes staring at her, his lips turning into a frown.

"Close your eyes."

Rangiku did as he said, barely feeling the soft caress of fabric as it slid around her, her eyes opening to reveal a beautiful pink scarf, soft and silky, wrapped around her neck and dangling beside her bosom.

"It's beautiful…" she whispered, her fingers reaching up to caress the fabric, her eyes glancing upwards to catch his gaze, strong and intense, for once, his eyes, open and staring directly at her.

"Ran…" he whispered, his hands sliding up her arms and to her cheeks, guiding his lips to her own. He kissed her then, and out of all of their kisses, this one…was something different. As he guided her back to his chambers, his hands gently coercing her body to mold to his own, her every cry attuned to his ears, Rangiku realized something.

Gin didn't have to be smiling…

To be happy.

Theme #13: Excessive chain

Rangiku realized as she lay there in Orihime's bathtub, her voluptuous form spilling over the edges, her hands dangling to the side as she listened to the girl weep over the Kurosaki-boy that she wasn't the only one bound by chains.

Every move that she made was calculated, every step that she took was towards one goal: to sever the chain between them, to cut it from her soul, to make her a Hollow to him, fallen, away from his tainted ideals and half-truths.

Every fight that she had, every blow that Haineko rained down on the enemy, all of her hatred towards him fueling each strike and quick step, was to get closer to him, to get closer to her goal, to get closer to severing that connection.

That connection that haunted her, even now.

Even now, she could feel his breath on her skin, his arms around her, his tall body pressed into her own curvy one as he almost peeled her soul out of her skin with every passionate thrust he made, every movement one that made her cry out for what he gave her.

Made her want it with every breath.

Even now, as she stood, facing an enemy she might not win against, her limbs aching, her sword sweeping down towards the Arrancar full-force, she was chained to him.

If not by body, then by soul, and if not by soul…

Then by the scarf he had given her, claimed her with, hanging around her neck.

Theme #14: Radio-cassette player

Three thirty in the morning,
Not a soul in sight,
The city's lookin' like a ghost town
On a moonless summer night.
Raindrops on the windshield,
There's a storm moving in.
He's headin' back from somewhere
That he never should have been.
And the thunder rolls.
And the thunder rolls.

Rangiku froze when she felt her Captain's reiatsu flare, Gin's rising to meet it as she rushed towards them, her hair flying backwards, the temperature dropping, her breath misting in the frigid air as she approached, wary of what she would encounter.

Every light is burnin'
In a house across town.
She's pacin' by the telephone
In her faded flannel gown.
Askin' for a miracle,
Hopin' she's not right,
Prayin' it's the weather
That's kept him out all night.
And the thunder rolls.
And the thunder rolls.

Hyourinmaru rose, violent against the raging skies, her Captain ensconced in his Bankai, his eyes a cold shade she had never encountered, his aura raging with intent to kill. She drew Haineko, her heart wavering as the ice seized Gin violently, the roar of the dragon howling in the air, every drop of sweat she felt freezing against her skin.

The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes.
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night,
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls.

Hyourinmaru seized Gin, his ice devouring his arm, Gin's eyes shooting open angrily, his grin fading as she hid, almost frozen as Gin flung Shinsou forward, his blue eyes freezing over to meet his opponents, his silvery hair glowing almost purple in the shade of Hyourinmaru's gaze, her Captain's furious glare piercing him, even if his sword did not.

She's waitin' by the window
When he pulls into the drive
She rushes out to hold him
Thankful he's alive
Through all the wind and rain
A strange new perfume blows
And the lightnin' flashes in her eyes
And he knows that she knows
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

"Shinsou" she heard him whisper, her Captain in close quarters as he whirled to stare at the body prone on the ground behind him. "Ikorose". The blade shot forward, his Zanpakutou flying towards the prone body of Hinamori. Before she could think, Rangiku flew forward, disappearing in the icy mist.

She runs back down the hallway
Into the bedroom door
she reaches for the pistol
kept in the dresser drawer
She tells the lady in the mirror
he wont do this again
cuz tonight will be the last time
she'll wonder where he's been

Gin's face was almost shocked, when Shinsou slammed into Haineko, cracking her and shattering her, Rangiku pushing heavily against the pressure behind his blow, her whole body trembling as she managed to utter out a challenge to the man in front of her, her eyes staring deep into his own.

And once again, he'd thrown up his mask, and disappeared, his voice lingering on the wind, his words a kiss on her cheek, Hinamori's frail body in her hands as her Captain shook with fury, his rage making ice fall from the sky like a punishment from heaven.

The Thunder Rolls

And the lightnin' strikes

Another love grows cold

On a sleepless night

As the storm rolls on

Out of control

Deep in her heart

The Thunder Rolls…

Theme #15: Perfect Blue

She had lain there, her eyes barely seeing any more, the expanse of sky opening up before her, her dirty and prone form wracked with pains from hunger, her whole body shuddering beneath the expanse blue that stretched before her, endlessly, unbroken by her eyes, glassy and fading, even breathing escaping her as she tried not to think of anything but that sky.

But a shadow had fallen on her, and her eyes had seen him for the first time, taken his proffered fruit and devoured it, eyes following him, his words too dim to recall, his hands helping her up, his touch warming her skin, that for the first time in days, felt the heat of the sun.

He had destroyed her perfect blue, her perfect death, that peaceful moment she had wished for as she lay there, alone, dying, and he had saved her.

And for that, she gave him every kiss, every touch, even her body. Whatever he wanted to do with her was fine, and if someday, he wanted to end the life that he had saved, she would stand there and take his blows until he was the one that ended her, that same face clouding the sight of a perfect blue sky, for once, his smile gone, as he laid her to rest.