"Because I know woman. If she will be mad or she will be sorry - if it is 'mad', she will be much pleasure to make right; and if she is 'sorry', it will be the same pleasure. You... you do not have women, so you do not know, senor. But me... Carlos Robante... I know!"
Rio Bravo - Carlos Robante
Rukia had stewed silently for all of five minutes before she lit into Ichigo with the mouth of a drunken ranch hand. She had called him things that he didn't even know how to pronounce, and he knew some pretty impressive curses. He had let her rage on and ignored her, wondering if the heavens really hated him this fucking much.
Rukia Kuchiki, sister of that noble asshole Byakuya, and the one woman he could never seem to get out of his head. He scowled, not liking the direction his thoughts had veered. Shit, even dressed like a man she was fucking beautiful. It was her eyes; they were fucking purple for Christ sake. What kind of God gives eyes like that to a woman like her? They were deep, and wide, and soul stealing; they were eyes designed to steal a man's concentration and feed his fantasies.
He growled, low. Damn but did he have fantasies about this vicious little midget, had since the first day he had met her three years ago. Most of them involved her wrapping those long legs around his waist while he pumped deep inside her. She should not have such long legs on such a short body. It was fucking criminal. He frowned. Ichigo had often wondered what shade of amethyst those thrice damned eyes would turn when she was aroused, panting and begging him to take her higher, go faster, pound into her harder; and speaking of hard. He felt his cock twitch. Damn but he needed to stop before riding became really fucking uncomfortable.
He used to have his libido under better control around her. He had even almost convinced himself that he didn't really want to fuck her six ways from Sunday every time he saw her, but that had all changed two months ago. Ichigo let his mind drift back.
Ichigo was not in the mood to socialize and it must have shown on his face because the patrons at Rangiku's saloon were giving him a wide berth. He was sitting in the farthest, darkened corner of the saloon, his back to the wall, scowling and watching. Uryuu had disappeared, probably sniffing after Orihime again.
Ichigo scoffed. Damn fool should know better than to get himself hung up on a whore, not that he had anything against Orihime. She was a nice girl, but this life was a hard one and happy endings were rare to nonexistent. Ishida needed to remember that.
Speaking of unattainable women, Ichigo let his molten amber gaze drift to the petite raven haired beauty currently drinking Renji under the table. Little idiot was three sheets to the wind and had no idea what was going on around her.
Dammit, she needed to be more fucking careful. Her brother Byakuya was a powerful man and powerful men had enemies. Just what the hell did she think she was doing sitting in a saloon and getting drunk? Didn't she know how fucking dangerous that was for a woman? Ichigo watched as Hannah sashayed by and winked at Renji. In the blink of an eye the fucker was up and following his cock.
Ichigo cursed. Fucking idiot, you can't just fucking leave her alone in the middle of a goddamn saloon on pay day. The place was packed with flush ranchers and hands, pissing their wages away on booze and whores. Ichigo watched as she downed another shot, slammed the glass down, licked her lips, and stood up on unsteady legs to leave. Just the slight of her little pink tongue running over those silky lips had him shifting uncomfortably.
Her tight cords did nothing to disguise the generous length of those legs and he fought down a wave of pure desire. He swore. Damn bitch had given him a hard-on for three fucking years and she didn't even know it. His previous bad temper spiked three fold as she stumbled towards the swinging doors of the entrance. His eyes followed her and then instinctively scanned the room, which is why he saw one of the ranchers watching her drunken progress. Ichigo frowned. He didn't like the look in that guy's eyes one bit. The tall, greasy man finished his beer, slammed the glass down on the bar, and followed Rukia out the door. Silent as a shadow Ichigo rose and stalked him.
He was just in time to see the bastard put a knife to Rukia's throat and pull her into the alley. He swore and silently reached down into his boot to pull out his double edged throwing knife. He knew he couldn't confront the bastard face to face, because the asshole would simply cut Rukia's throat.
Ichigo crept around to the other side of the saloon and slipped around the back. He was well concealed in the shadows, watching and waiting for an opportunity. He could, unfortunately hear everything and it was taking all his control not to shake with his building rage.
When the man told Rukia he was going to rape her he almost threw the knife, but he stopped himself. If he threw it now, while the other man still held his knife tightly against her pale throat, all he would do was get her killed.
His chance came when the idiot moved the knife to cut open her shirt and grabbed one of her breasts. Ichigo grasped the blade, drew back his arm, and threw, flicking his wrist sharply. The knife blurred and landed with a dull thud in the would be rapist's back. He gurgled and fell back, and Rukia whirled just as he stepped out of the shadows.
Her chest was heaving and he could just make out her high, pert breast with the delicate pink tipped areola, puckering in the night breeze. He controlled his racing heart and forced a calm he didn't feel. With studied indifference he kicked the dead man on his back, knelt down, and pulled his knife free. He absolutely would not think about her breasts or about how those silky mounds were now firmly imprinted in his brain.
He rose and watched her flush and try to pull the ruined edges of her shirt over her exposed chest. He frowned, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders, as much for his own peace of mind as hers.
Ichigo still didn't know what possessed him to pull her protectively against his own body and lead her back to her hotel. He barely recognized the feelings humming through his body, but knew part of it was fear. He felt his heart clench when he thought of what could have, and would have happened, had he not been there to protect her.
It was enough to make him physically ill. He remembered he had silently taken her back to the hotel and gruffly told her to be more fucking careful, partly to piss her off, and partly because he was still scared shitless when he thought too hard on what could have happened.
Ichigo frowned and brought himself back to the present. He had dreamed of her practically ever night since then and not all of them were fantasies. Some of them where nightmare variations on what happened on her birthday and they always left him shaken, drenched in cold sweat.
"Hey idiot, I'm talking to you!" She shouted. Ichigo halted his horse. Dismounted and forcing himself to remain calm, he walked over to the petite woman glaring at him as if she would skin him alive. He was just about to say something sarcastic when he noticed the blood on her arm.
"Fuck Rukia, you're hurt. You should have told me," he growled, but there was no malice, only concern. Her eyes shot sparks.
"It's not like you gave me the chance," she spat. Ichigo grunted, pulled his pocket knife out of his back pocket, opened the blade, and swiftly cut her hands and feet free. Immediately she tried to kick out at him, but he subdued her with his larger frame, gently pulled her down from the horse, and carried her over to an outcropping of nearby boulders.
"Ichigo! Put me down!" He grunted and dropped her unceremoniously on the boulder. Her hand flew to slap him and he caught her wrist, his eyes molten. Rukia's eyes grew wide as he gently moved the tattered sleeve of her shirt up to see the wound. His long, nimble fingers worked the bloody cloth free and his gaze narrowed.
"You were grazed by a bullet," he accused.
"Your point?" Rukia shot back; sarcastic, her ire still dancing in her eyes. Ichigo's scowl deepened and his warm fingers slide up her arm slowly, dancing across her skin. Rukia felt her heart jump, her belly clench, her sex grow warm, and her skin tingle. She tried to jerk away but he glared at her and held her fast, gently probing the wound.
"It's not bad but we need to clean it. We should probably find a doc and have him stitch it up or else it's gonna scar pretty good."
Rukia didn't care about the possibility of a scar, not when his hand was unconsciously rubbing her skin. She felt confused by her reaction and this time when she pulled away he let her go.
"I-It's fine, it's just a scratch." He looked like he was going to argue but instead he held his tongue.
His normal scowl firmly in place he left her, padded over to his saddle bags, and dug around for the medicinal poultice that Jacob had packed with him. He grabbed the roll of rags he used for gauze and went back over to kneel in front of Rukia and moved the tattered edges of her shirt aside so he could pour water over the wound. She winced as he used one of the rags to gently clean away dried blood and she shivered as his fingers gently spread the greenish brown mixture on the wound. When he had finished he tied a bandage around her slim upper arm. She completely ignored her traitorous body, but it was hard, especially when he looked at her like that. His turbulent eyes held a strange mixture of anger, concern, and something else.
"Wanna tell me how it happened." Rukia lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him.
"No." He gritted his teeth and held his anger in check with effort.
"It wasn't really a question, princess. Tell me how it happened." She wanted to tell him to go to hell but she choked it down. There was no reason for her not to tell him what happened, no reason at all except she was feeling surly because she never could seem to control the way her body reacted to him when he got too close to her. She hated it, hated him. Rukia completely ignored the traitorous little voice in the back of her head calling her a little liar.
"I came home to find our house hold staff gutted and scalped. I went out the back to get the ranch hands and found Byakuya's coat on the ground, covered in blood. A couple of the men who attacked the ranch were still there one of them winged me. I killed him but another man got the drop on me and clocked me with a rifle butt. All I remember about him was he had silver hair."
Ichigo regarded her with unfathomable eyes.
"Your brother?" Rukia looked away. An emotion not unlike despair welled in her throat.
"I don't know. I only found his coat not his…" she trialed off, but he understood. She hadn't found his body.
He frowned in thought, stood up, moved a couple of paces back from her, and crossed his arms. He didn't like the implications of someone leaving a bunch of scalped corpses on Kuchiki land, especially since it sounded like Rukia was attacked by white men.
"You said you came back, when did you leave the ranch and where had you been."
"I went for a ride at dawn and returned late in the morning. "
He looked at her for a moment longer and then gruffly asked.
"You all right to ride?" She shot him another imperious look and nodded. He smirked.
"Good, saddle up princess."
"Where are we going?" He didn't answer right away; instead he walked over to Zangetsu and pulled his lean, long limbed body into the saddle.
He pulled the reins and turned to face her.
"We are going back to your ranch to see if we can't find out what the hell is going on, but first we have to stop in Rukongai"
Rukia mounted her horse and turned in her saddle to face Ichigo.
"Why Rukongai?"
Ichigo smirked. "Cause I gotta stop those assholes from hanging my idiot brother."
He spurred his heels into Zangetsu's flanks and the massive horse took off in a gallop. Rukia stared after him for a second before his words sunk in.
"Dammit Ichigo!" she yelled, and followed.
She could swear she heard him laughing.
