Chapter Nine- The Proof
Orihime's eyes fluttered open slowly, the sun searing afterimages of strange shapes into her eyes. A shadow moved over her, and she opened her eyes fully. She was on a sandy beach, it was, once again, sunset, and someone was standing over her.
"U-Ulquiorra?" she asked hoarsely, her voice sore from disuse and the inhalation of sand.
"Yes, woman."
Her muscles protesting, she stumbled backwards, standing and hovering near the palmtrees. He slowly blinked dark green eyes.
"What's going on? Why did Yoruichi attack me?"
Her mouth quivered.
"She said she would help me. She promised she would help me..."
She looked up at Ulquiorra, silver eyes dim with pain.
"Why are you here?" she asked stuffily. "You're mad at me."
Ulquiorra looked away.
"I am not 'mad' at you."
Orihime laughed hoarsely.
"Oh? Then what was that at the diner?"
She could have sworn he mumbled something about 'a diva fit', but then he said louder, "I was unsure. As such, I overreacted to a perfectly valid concern. I am... lost, when it comes to you. You baffle me. I would liken spending my time with you to walking on broken glass and nails, without the advantages of Hierro. As such, I, foolishly, lost my temper-"
He broke off suddenly, self-deprecation deep in his emerald eyes. Obviously, he hadn't meant to say that much. Orihime walked over and slapped him. His face snapped sideways, and he stayed in that position. She was quiet for a half minute or so. Then, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the cheek she slapped.
"I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. "You didn't deserve that."
She hugged him, not at all surprised when he didn't hug back. Her stomach rumbled. Ulquiorra still didn't react. She giggled, and then placed a small, warm hand on his cheek, turning his face to her. Slowly, she kissed him, pressing her heated, full lips against his unresponsive lips.
"Ulquiorra," she sighed, then spoke against his lips, "Smile!" Her mouth did just this, still pressed against his mouth.
"Woman," he mumbled. "I don't smile."
She chuckled. "Then sparkle your eyes at me."
"I'm not allowed to do that," he told her, pulling back while being simultaneously dragged into her banter.
"I've changed my mind," she declared. "And I would really, really like it if you would fed me something."
He did the Ulquiorra equivalent to raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have to threaten you?"
She smiled slyly. "No, but if you want, you can try force-feeding me! I can admit now I really didn't mind that first night. I was more angry at you for making me like it then for doing it in the first place."
Ulquiorra started walking away. She felt something in her heart break, then he called, "Trust me, woman, I already knew that. Where would you like to eat?"
Orihime's heart regrew to epic proportions as she skipped after him, stating joyfully, "Can I make you something? Please?"
She took his hand. He didn't pull away as he said, "I don't care."
Biting her lip to try and hide her smile, Orihime laid her head on his shoulder.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Ulquiorra said cautiously, "Do your worries from the diner still plague you?"
Orihime looked up at the carnelian, indigo, and tangerine sky and sighed softly, a small smile curving her lips. "No. I love and will live for my friends forever. But this is my now, and, honestly, I'd rather have my now be with you then with anyone else."
Ulquiorra's eyes slid to hers, and he inquired, "Do you mean that?"
Orihime inhaled through her nose, eyes still closed, lips still curved. "This now is perfect, Ulquiorra. Yes, I mean it, with every beat of my heart."
Just then, the sun finished setting, putting shadows everywhere.
"Heart," Ulquiorra mused softly as the White Towers came in sight. "What is the heart? Could I see it if I ripped open your chest? Could I see it if I cracked your skull?"
Orihime placed a finger to her lips thoughtfully.
"No. Well, I mean, you could see my physical heart, and you could see my brain, which I guess is where I hold the thoughts of my heart, but I think that the heart is more in this area," she explained, holding up their intertwined hands.
Ulquiorra frowned slightly. "In my hand?"
She giggled. "Kinda. Do you know what are hands are doing?"
"Intertwining?"
"Well, besides that. They're forming a bond," she informed him brightly. "And you know, a bond between people is how the heart is created."
Ulquiorra snorted. "That's foolish."
Her jaw dropped. "No, it's not! It's God's truth!"
He gave her a withering glance. "That's a lie."
She smiled. "Well, more of an exaggeration. But the fact remains, it's true!"
Ulquiorra changed the subject abruptly. "Woman, the were-cat didn't betray you."
Orihime stumbled. "What?"
He looked away. "She was demonstrating to me how easily you could be taken from me. Admittedly, her methods were unorthodox, and might have resulted in her having a broken nose and cheekbone, but it certainly got the message through."
Orihime's mouth was still hanging.
"You broke Yoruichi's face?"
"She is still lingering in this town. You may go with her if you wish."
Orihime started laughing. Ulquiorra looked at her, almost injured.
"What? Don't give me that look .You talk about how she made you realize you couldn't lose me, and then you offer to let me go?" she chuckled.
His jaw tightened minisculely. "I was attempting to be 'noble'. After all, isn't that what you adored about Kurosaki?"
"Well, yeah," she consented. "But who am I with right now? You or Kurosaki-kun?"
"I threatened you until you followed me," Ulquiorra pointed out candidly.
She waved a hand.
"Details, details. Whose orders do I follow without question?"
Ulquiorra stared at her.
"Is there a third choice? Because it's definitely not Kurosaki or me."
She made an indignant noise. "Oh, come on! I have to have followed at least one of your orders without question..."
They were quiet, thinking. Finally, Ulquiorra said, "You put on those Arrancar robes."
Orihime snapped, beaming triumphantly. "Ha! See? Followed orders without question."
"Of course," Ulquiorra continued. "That might have been because your school uniform was covered in the former Sexta's blood."
Orihime laughed, then pretended to push him. "Way to ruin the mood, Ulquiorra."
"Did you just lay an offensive hand on my person?" he asked tonelessly. Orihime stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.
"You're so funny, Ulquiorra! I can't believe Grimmjow thinks you're emo."
"Emo?" he asked. She shook her head, grimacing.
"Don't ask."
Ulquiorra surveyed her for a few seconds, then murmured, "Is this what 'nice' feels like?"
She leaned her head on his shoulder again.
"I don't know. Is it nice?"
He was silent for a moment, then said descisively, "Yes. This is nice, Orihime Inoue."
She smiled at him as they walked into the White Towers. Orihime immediately turned and started skipping down the white hallways, headed for the kitchen. Hands in his pockets, Ulquiorra followed her, the strange contentment from earlier setting in.
If he was honest with himself, he knew that this wasn't some sudden thing. He himself had lost track of how long she had been at Las Noches, and the fascination and attraction he had denied having from the first day had apparently been growing and swelling in the back of his mind, where he had shoved those thoughts. Thoughts about her beauty, her strength, her spirit, her heart, her eyes, her hair, her body, her personality, all of it. If it didn't strictly have to do with her usefulnessness to Aizen, he pretended it had never even crossed his mind, in a somewhat childish gesture. The only thing that truly surprised him was that she reciprocated his feelings, and that she responded with such fiery passion. What in Aizen's name had ever given her the thought that he was more than a kidnapper, a warden, an evil, heartless monster?
"Ulquiooorraaaa... you in there?"
He blinked to see a smiling Orihime, smoky eyes sparkling delightedly, orange hair tied up with a green band, creamy hands freshly scrubbed.
"I've only been calling for about five minutes."
Ulquiorra automatically replied, "Fifty-seven seconds. It's been fifty-seven seconds since the probable time you started calling for my attention."
Her cherry blossom pink lips tugged further upwards as she grabbed a pot and started throwing food in it.
"Okay, Ulquiorra. Although, I honestly don't know how you managed to keep track of the time I was calling your name when you didn't realize I was calling your name."
Handing her a wooden spoon, he couldn't resist murmuring in her ear, pressing his front against her back, "I am skilled in many ways you have yet to discover."
Her eyes brightened. "Really? Like what? I want to know!"
Ulquiorra supposed he shouldn't be surprised by the way the innuendo flew over her head, and truthfully, it charmed him somewhat. He lightly glided the pads of her finger along the insides of her legs before resting his hands on her abdomen, feeling the heat of her flush hit his chest like a ton of bricks as the back of her neck flamed crimson.
"Oh," she mumbled. "I-I think I understand now."
Ulquiorra pulled away, grabbing her a variety of spices and sauces from one of the many white cupboards.
"I am sure you do," he answered smoothly. "What else do you require for this meal of yours?"
Still blushing, she stuttered, "U-um, could you get me vanilla, syrup, dried sage, and, ooh, I dunno, some thyme and brown sugar?"
Ulquiorra nodded and complied, setting the jars and bottles on the marble counter near the deep pan full of a Thanksgiving turkey she had gotten from the walk-in fridge.
Blush fading, Orihime poked her tongue out as she slowly drizzled the syrup and vanilla across the frozen turkey, making an intricate zig-zagging pattern. Carefully, she sprinkled the sage, thyme, and brown sugar, adding liberal amounts of the last item.
"Ulquiorra?" she called, barely glancing over her shoulder at the Espada. "Could you grab me some honey, and a, uh, uh, uh, a lemon?"
"Do you require a knife of any sort?" he inquired, walking in and out of the deep pantry and refridgerator.
"A fruit knife would be nice, please," she replied politely, biting her lip and looking at the ceiling intensely. Most turkeys cooked at 325 degrees for about three hours, but she didn't have that much time. If she cooked it at a higher temperature, then the outside would burn. She barely noticed Ulquiorra set her coveted items down and stare at her questioningly, a thought starting to emerge in a lightbulb moment.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "I know what to do!"
She ducked underneath the cabinets and grabbed a pot, heating up to the stove as high as it would go. Grinning, Orihime dumped the turkey and all of its toppings in before grabbing the honey bottle Ulquiorra had handed her and pouring it in until the turkey was swimming.
"Woman, what are you doing?"
Orihime turned and looked at Ulquiorra, beaming. "Well, my brother Sora used to always deep-fry our turkeys if we were in a hurry, so I thought why not deep-fry it in honey, which will give it even more flavor!"
Ulquiorra considered this, gazing at the black pot.
"That might work, but can you get the stove to be hot enough?"
"That's where your ceros come in," she answered smugly, totally self satisfied. Ulquiorra nodded hesitantly, unsure of his new status as kitchen appliance.
Orihime hummed to herself as she chopped the lemon, closing her eyes momentarily with happiness. Immediately, hot pain lanced up her arm, originating from her finger and spreading throughout her body. She dropped the knife, gasping, instinctively clutching the bloody appendage to her ample chest. In an instant, Ulquiorra was at her side, gently tugging her finger towards him. They both inspected the slice silently. It was a good gash, located at the knuckle furthest from her hand, a sliver of white bone showing.
She sniffled, tears forming. Ulquiorra's emerald eyes flew to hers, grave and solemn. She sniffed again, a tear dropping down one cheek.
One of his pale fingers flicked it away, and he murmured, "Don't cry, woman."
He lifted her bleeding finger to his mouth, and to her shock, started licking her skin clean. A deceptively human tongue licked her finger, dragging across it like the flat of a razor blade, coming away red with her blood. A tingling warmth pooled up in her abdomen, despite her pain. Finally, he closed his lips around the tip of her finger and started sucking.
Orihime moaned quietly, ashy eyes not leaving his. Slowly, the pain ebbed away, replaced with a deep pleasure that throbbed through her body. After what seemed like forever, he pulled her wet finger from his mouth and inspected the totally healed digit. Her jaw dropped. There wasn't even a scar. She snatched the finger away, surveying it thoroughly.
"How did you do that?" she demanded, confusion etched into her sweet features.
"The Espada have healing abilities in their saliva, especially in concentrated doses," he answered calmly before picking the knife up and rinsing it of her blood. "Now how thinly do you want this lemon cut?"
Blushing, she mumbled, "A half inch, please."
He nodded as she started stirring the turkey, making sure it was evenly soaking in the honey.
"What do you want to drink?" she asked curiously, leaving her turkey to check the cupboards for cups.
"Third row, fourth to the right," he instructed. "I care not."
She turned, putting the hand holding the cups on her hip and pouting.
"That's not fair. How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't tell me?"
He turned and looked at her.
"Woman. I honestly don't care. We have lemonade, Sprite, Coke, wine, cranberry juice, whiskey, or orange juice. Take your pick."
Sticking her tongue out at him, she waltzed to the table, dropping off the cups, before spinning out into the fridge. She walked down the short dark hall, illuminated by a blue light, cold air swirling around her. Sighing, she grabbed a bottle of something deep and red, assuming it was cranberry juice again.
When she walked back out again, the lemon was perfectly sliced on a cutting board, her turkey was finished, and Ulquiorra was sitting at the table, the picture of poise and elegance. Shaking her head slightly, she poured the blood red liquid before putting the bottle on the counter, dishing up the turkey on to two plates, which she promptly served to Ulquiorra, whom she noticed watched her every move over the rim of his glass. Without thinking about it, blood rushed to color her cheeks a light pink as she sauntered to her chair, sitting down and picking up her knife and fork. A pale hand stopped her, and she looked up into the deep, blank eyes of Ulquiorra Cifer, Cuarta Espada.
The Tenth Intermission- The Entertained
Gin sometimes wondered if he was privvy to the scenes he was watching.
Yeah, it was kinda his job, but sometimes, when Ulquiorra gave Orihime the sort of look he was giving her now, Gin almost wanted to look away. It was just so intense, and not the kind of look that was freely given. It was the kind of look that people who had been sleeping with each other for years gave their other when lust was burning their blood.
And Orihime, she would color, her lips would part, and she would stop breathing, but she wouldn't look away, looking unknowingly seductive.
Gin could practically feel her heart pound. But then, Gin's smile would spread and he would subconsciously glance around for popcorn, because whatever happened next was going to be good.
