First Frost

- Chapter 9 –

By Alialka

"I really don't think that's a good idea…"

"Oh pleaaase, please come on and help me!"

"Rangiku…" there was a slight warning in the man's voice, under the thick want and barely contained greed.

"I thought you were her friend? Shouldn't you wish for her happiness?"

"I am her friend and I do wish her happiness, but… this is just ridiculous! And with him, of all people!"

"Hey, you don't know, but underneath that baby face there's a real man!" full lips formed a perfect pout.

"…and how do you know that?"

A soft chuckle and for a moment the dark room was quiet, as she remained close enough for him to feel the increasing warmth radiating from her body, yet not once touching. He sighed after a while – unbelieving and giving up in the same time. Callused hands skimmed down her sides, so soft and tempting, while she kissed him like she would never had another chance to do so.

"Damn you, woman"

"So will you help me now…?" there was purring note in her voice and the rustle of cloth was the only sound for a longer while.

"…yeah" he rasped against the shell of her ear.

In the dark, her body was warm and only his to enjoy and the very thought caused him to shiver, as blood boiled and his world shrunk to the small space of the shared room.

"Great! So what's…"

"Legs" he growled and the woman yelped in surprised as he flipped her into the soft bedding "Now, shut up…"

There were days where Tōshirō wished with all of his heart that Matsumoto would finally achieve Bankai and get promoted, only so that he would not have to deal with her and her strange antics. Like today for example, when she surprised him by already being in the office when he came in for work – Matsumoto threw him a dazzling smile that never meant anything good, pointed to reports she 'made' and excused herself saying that President Kusajishi wanted all members to gather so she had to go now, really and bye Captain, I'll see you soon!

It took a longer while to dawn upon him that she made only the top report – the rest of them untouched – and ditched him in a most obvious manner. For a moment there he considered finding her and knocking some sense into her head, but with a heavy sigh he gave up on the idea.

He'll freeze her to her chair next day, though.

Tōshirō reached for the report his Lieutenant worked on -just to be sure - and he didn't even feel anything akin to surprise when he saw that she filled it with incoherent scribbles; and he was fairly sure that was a cat doodled in the corner.

She did write the word 'snow' a lot and combined with her latest idea to celebrate that Human holiday called Christmas –despite it never snowing at all in Soul Society - he was left to wonder about her sudden interest in Winter. Matsumoto had to be the last person he'd suspect of liking that particular season; the cold weather would never allow her to show off her charms as she often did.

The tips of his fingers traced one of the many words as he realized he never saw it snow. His spirit was an all powerful dragon – its strength enough to effect the weather – but it was a raw force that caused ice to appear and blood to freeze. What was he thinking, the young prodigy scolded himself. Wasting precious time, dwelling on a meaningless word when thanks to Matsumoto he was piled up with work. By all means, he should pick up that damned brush and get started, but all he could do was sit there and wish for a sudden chill.

The brush seemed to be all warm wood and polished surface in his grasp; he recalled being called cold and for the very first time he wanted to hear that again.

He remembered a starlit smile and the ever straying tuft of black, simple words that shook his world and suddenly, Tōshirō realized he was smiling to himself. That girl did strange things to him - he knew that ever since that first night on the roof when her laugh awakened Hyourinmaru from a disturbed sleep – and caused his cold logic to fail him, something inside him crumbling and shattering with every meeting.

And even when he finally forced himself into doing what he was supposed to, even when he ignored Hyourinmaru's excited screech, he found out that - every now and then – he had to crush a page as her name sneaked in between letters and numbers..

When it happened for the first time, he blinked and cursed Rukia for being able to affect him even when she wasn't nowhere in sight. It was only hours later – well after noon when the stacks have became smaller – when with hesitation Tōshirō pulled out a blank sheet. Usually, his writing was neat and clean, but the ink spilled when the brush barely touched the paper. The first symbol caused his hand to shook and his mouth opened to say it out loud.

Then it happened.

He heard Matsumoto even before he could sense her, all loud and obviously thrilled about something. Only a sigh managed to slip past his lips, as he crushed the page with one black letter on, a dull pain already forming in the back of his head, before the shoji door slid open violently. The way she ditched him in the morning came back along with the urge to give her one hell of a punishment. He busied himself with the nearest report as Matsumoto barged in without any pardon.

"Ah! You're still here, Captain! Good!" she clapped her hands, before turning around "Oh come, you…! "

The quiet voice behind Matsumoto's back should do the trick all on its own, but it was the familiar tingle on his spine caused the young Captain to look up. His Lieutenant was hardly paying him any attention – not that it was something unexpected, no matter how annoying or how much he fought with it– obviously busy dragging someone else into his office.

"What the fuck are you…" and any words he could possibly have died on his lips as Rukia was forcefully pulled inside.

Her black haired muffled, cheeks flaming red in embarrassment and the girl had no idea where to rest her eyes, as she struggled against Matsumoto's iron grip on her wrists.

And Tōshirō couldn't look away –no matter how hard he wanted to - his mouth still open and the brush raised, ink dripping onto the paper.

By gods…

That mere whisper of black wrapped tight, so tight around her hips was barely an excuse for an uniform skirt. He must have looked like a fool, suddenly pale, as his eyes trailed down lean legs – and they were surprisingly long for such a petite girl, he noticed dumbly. And somehow, his mind could only process the thought whether the skin on her thighs was as smooth as it seemed. Or how would his fingers look against it, all dark and sturdy, sweeping over taut muscle in a slow, long stroke. Would she shiver, tremble if only…

Nimble fingers pulled the scandalous skirt down, trying to cover as much leg as possible, and only then he was reminded that – by gods! - he should not stare; it broke through the vision of the black cloth pulled up and... And really, in all honestly, he wanted to fix his gaze on her face – a pretty sight he was somewhat used to – but the way her uniform fell off one shoulder and the plunging neckline put a stop to all of his efforts.

Hyourinmaru stirred, the dragon's possessive growl a loud sound in his ear and he swelled.

The play of light and shadow, the quick rise of her chest and Tōshirō found himself biting the inside of his cheek, hard, shifting uncomfortably in his chair; ice cold he might be, but he was still a man.

And she may be petite and hidden in the loose folds of her regular shihakusho, not allowing anyone to see the fine line of her collarbones or the beauty mark in the tempting dip between humble breasts. Skin pale, the thin net of faint blue veins stretched underneath and for a moment he wished to feel the blood pulse under his fingertips.

And he could see the puckered scars right above her heart; a sight that caused his blood to boil.

"I told you!" there was a sunshine grin on Matsumoto's face, one that was never affected by the death glare thrown by the smaller Shinigami "If my Captain likes it, everyone will! It's just a matter of time…"

It was that high voice which brought him back to his senses and his gaze fell on his Lieutenant.

"Matsumoto…" he hissed, fingers tightening on the brush and the wood snapped "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

"Well Captain? Don't you think this looks nice?" she beamed at him, her hands still holding Rukia's shoulders and keeping the poor girl in place "We have decided that the female version of our shihakusho needs a little… make over."

Make… over?

Tōshirō forced himself to keep looking at Matsumoto's face and not slightly to the right, not to see the expanse of skin and not allow his mind to wander.

Was his Lieutenant sane or did all the sake she has devoured finally damaged her brain?

Rukia felt her face burning, as she tried to arrange her uniform in some kind of order. But with the slightest move, the skirt would ride up and every time she pulled the shitagi up onto one pale shoulder - it slid off of the other. Growing frustrated, embarrassed after being dragged through half of Seireitei like some show-case dog, she wanted nothing more than runaway and hide somewhere. Wait for the commotion and the wolf-whistles to die.

And wait for the image of teal eyes darkening with purely male recognition to fade from her memory.

"Matsumoto…" the icy Captain growled, feeling like the last threads of his patience were slipping away from him.

"And besides, the project was soooo cute, that we couldn't allow anyone but Rukia to wear it!" the woman almost cooed, her eyes softening as she looked at the ruffled mass of black hair "And from what I saw on the way…"

On the way…? White brows knitted as he noticed shoulders shaking and Rukia's lips twisting in barely controlled anger.

"Matsumoto, did you actually drag Kuchiki here?" his voice was a cold hiss through clenched teeth.

Was she exposed to the whole of Seireitei, looking like this…? His jaw perfectly visible, as he could easily imagine how that…that skirt had to ride up were she to run and how men had to stare and what they had to think.

His blood boiled and fingers itched to curl around Hyourinmaru's hilt – and the dragon snapped his powerful jaws in fury. For reasons he didn't want to acknowledge, the mere thought stirred something dark and possessive inside of him.

"Well… I wouldn't say drag, but…" his Lieutenant laughed lightly, as if this was the most trivial matter of them all.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, letting out a long breath like a train letting off steam.

"Matsumoto…" every syllable of her name was a hiss through clenched teeth.

"Well, we'll be leaving now ,Captain!" she giggled and waved one hand "Come Rukia, we're off to the 8th …"

"No" he cut her off, causing Rukia to snap her head up and he saw her face for the first time.

Eyes dark and glazed with unvoiced anger, cheeks still aflame and somehow Rukia managed to looked breathtaking. Tōshirō shook his head, clearing his minds of such incredulous thoughts as he scrambled out from behind his desk.

"Go to the Kuchiki Estate and have someone fetch some decent clothing for her" he ordered coldly, with premeditation letting his power rise and causing the frost to appear on the walls "Take a seat Kuchiki, you might spend here a while"

"Captain, I don't need…" Rukia spoke up for the very first time and her voice cracked at the cold glare she received; reminding her that he was still Captain Hitsugaya and he was not used to disobedience "I understand, Sir"

She heard him say something else, something more to Matsumoto, so low and so harsh she couldn't pick it up, but the bubbly blond was gone in a mere second, closing the sliding door a with a little too much force. Trying to find a proper position to sit in, where the skirt would not ride up too high or the loose folds of the shitagi would not slide too low, Rukia took her place on the yellow-ish sofa. Her bare skin would stick to the fabric, adding to her discomfort.

Once in god knows how long she decided that she will attend the SWA meeting, and this is what happens!

With all of the pent up anger and frustration, topped with the embarrassment she never experienced, Rukia was on the verge of tears and they stung her eyes. But she would be sooner found dead than seen crying in front of a Captain.

The heavy sigh and the rustle of cloth caught her attention and her cheeks burned even more. It was simply humiliating, being dragged through streets and alleys, wearing this… this… this joke of an outfit; while hardly a puritan, Rukia had high standards for herself and this thing she wore now did not meet them at all. With each move she was painfully aware of how short it was and if anyone wished - and took a closer look - they could see the white flash of the fundoshi right beneath the black skirt.

"Here" Tōshirō's voice was as usual cold and grumpy, yet she still refused to look up "Dammit Kuchiki, I don't have the time!"

The arrogant annoyance in his voice did it; she snapped her head up angrily, mouth open and a venomous reply ready to roll of her tongue and damned be her noble position or his higher rank! But everything faded, washed away as her eyes fell upon the outstretched hand and the white cloth in it.

She stared at the offered haori, eyes glassy and wide like those of a deer, and her brain was unable to process what was right in front of her eyes.

Impossible…this was… simply impossible.

The absolute shock and disbelief that appeared on her face caused his irritation to lessen; and slowly it changed into some kind of pitiful sympathy. The girl was hardly at fault here, after all he knew first hand that Matsumoto could be very persistent when she wanted to. Her torn breath reached his ears as Tōshirō leaned closer; and with a sigh he draped the haori over slender shoulders.

He only hoped Rukia didn't notice how his fingers lingered on the soft of her skin.

"There" he said in a tight voice, as he wrapped the haori around her frame " Now, I'd greatly appreciate it if you wouldn't cause any more havoc"

Rukia could only nod her head; she knew better than to find that last statement offending. She could barely do so, when his actions left her flabbergasted and strangely numb, when along with the haori, she was wrapped in something very comforting.

Unconsciously, her fingers skimmed the cape, feeling the texture and memorizing its feel under their tips.

The fabric was soft and worn; something that Brother's haori lacked, washed and mangled on daily basis by one of the servants. It smelled like the icy Captain; the hint of frosted mint she already recognized and the sheer, clean scent of his body. Her heart clenched suddenly, chest hurting as it dawned upon her that it might as well be the very first and last time when she has a chance to don a haori. Eyes stinging, she shook her head, ignoring the memories of her morning talk with her Brother and tightened the flaps of the cape around her.

Never the one to break down in someone's presence, she swallowed the large ball that formed in her throat. This was not the time to feel sorry for herself, and especially not the place.

Rukia bit her lower lip, hard, as she traced the floorboards with her eyes. It felt like a very long day already and it was only afternoon now. And not only she was unable to go and attend her duties – the same ones she would do for years and years to come, never breaking the circle – not only she was tackled to death at the meeting, forced into wearing this thing that made Nemu's skirt look ridiculously long, now she was stuck and waiting and being a burden to the 10th Division's Captain.

Who was yet another problem on her already weighted shoulders, she though risking a glance at the said man.

Rukia never was the one to ignore her feelings – she might put others above herself, but she was always aware of her heart's state – and being unable to recognize the strange pull for the very first time caused her to feel a little bit edgy. She didn't think about him; didn't need to as somehow Tōshirō settled himself into her world with no effort and no realization of doing so. She didn't dream of him, but Shirayuki's gentle voice described vast ice fields and the sight of Hyourinmaru's glorious flight.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya offered her so little – that was so much, really – in simple gesture that she was left overwhelmed and raw, her fingers clutching the haori desperately and breath caught in a tight throat.

The sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder caused her to yelp in surprise and she looked up.

Straight into sharp teal eyes.

Close.

So close, that the one longer ply of white hair brushed against her nose and so close, that she could see the previously hidden glimpse of blue in his eyes. His hand a steady weight on her bare shoulder and she could feel the calluses on the inside. The young Captain moved then, resignation clearly written all over his face and the touch was gone. Rukia released her breath – she wondered when she started holding it – and turned the whole of her attention to the clean planks on the floor.

"Your reiatsu is sure to drive me mad, Kuchiki" there was a sink in the fine leather right next to her and she saw the black clad knee in the corner of one eye.

"I'm sorry" she muttered under her breath.

He stole a glance, making himself more comfortable; she was clearly not and he really couldn't blame her. But the way she acted all flustered and almost... timid was something he didn't suspect, and definitely something he wasn't used to.

And he didn't like this Rukia at all.

"I'm not good with this kind of things, you know that, Kuchiki"

Rukia nodded in acknowledgment, still looking at that certain one point on the floor; feeling numb all over her body and mind. She didn't even realize that her reiatsu was fluctuating so bad, to the point where it disturbed him and drove him away from his work.

She curled more, inhaled deeply and not once noticed that Tōshirō's eyes softened.

"I'm sorry" she said again, more raspy this time.

Another sigh to her left caused her heart to tighten, the feeling of being a complete nuisance becoming too overwhelming.

I said no, Rukia. And I will not change my mind. You're not fit enough and I can't.

Her fingers clutched at the white cotton, Brother's voice crystal clear in her mind. He meant what he thought was best for her, Rukia knew that, but still felt disappointed that Brother did not still believe in her… She forced herself not to wonder if he ever would.

You're hardly here anyway ,RuRu, so this is the least you can do!

Maybe she should go there more often, not to feel as left out during those meetings. But the women there were so loud and in dire need of attention, and Rukia felt tired too quickly to even put up a fight against Yachiru's crazy uniform idea. And she barely registered, when they had her all dolled up and Matsumoto got the craziest idea that it was Tōshirō's opinion that they needed.

Sturdy fingers tucked a strand of midnight hair behind one ear, the gesture short and simple and cutting through the confuse with the greatest of ease. Breath hitched and her head snapped up, eyes wide and even larger than usual in her face.

"You apologized without letting me continue" his brows were knitted, but there was almost a coy note in his voice "That's not very noble like"

"I'm sor…" she let her words die on her lips, realizing she was about to do the same thing twice in a row.

Heart skipped a beat as Tōshirō snorted at her obvious slow-thinking. He leaned back casually, hands cradling his head as he stretched, eyes half-closed; and she still could see the ice-like teal underneath the veil of black lashes.

"I hope you like needlepoint" he stated flatly after a while of semi-comfortable silence "Because if you rip my haori with that death grip of yours, you'll be the one to fix it"

And Rukia felt lips curling as she took a deep breath for the very first time today; air pleasantly cool and she finally felt the icy touch of the Captain's reiatsu purposely wrapped around her along with his haori. The vice like grip around her heart lessened, something fluttered and brightened inside

"You're wrong Captain…" she said around a smile and the dark burden on her shoulders lessened as she too, finally, leaned back.

"Hm?" his reply was lazy, like that of a relaxed cat.

"You are good with this kind of things"

"Tch… make yourself useful and be quiet" and on pure instinct he reached out again, brushing away some wayward strands out of her face and his fingertips tingled upon contact.

He felt her unspoken thank you, felt her eyes on him and heard the relieved sigh, as she made herself more comfortable on the other end of his sofa. Cracking one eye open, he saw her rest her cheek against the backrest, legs all curled up and covered in the white of his cape.

Rukia was the prettiest shade of violet and she was right next to him, a fleeting touch away and Tōshirō was tempted to reach out one more time.

She looked strangely in the right place, he realized suddenly as she met his gaze and smiled that one devastating smile; but the way he felt was even stranger and despite all of his genius – remained unexplainable. He tried his earnest not to dwell about this, about that pain in the middle of his chest that made him feel surprisingly alive.

"Hey Kuchiki…"

"Sir…?" a flutter of eyelashes and the soft tone didn't classify that as a subordinate's reply.

Her left hand was barely inched away from his, resting on the sofa's seat, palm up and he could see for the first time that the skin was hardly as smooth as it seemed. Save from the puckered scar that still caused his brows to furrow, he could see little calluses in the place where Sode no Shirayuki's hilt rested. Curious, he turned her hand over – and sure the skin on her knuckles was slightly scratchy.

Her skin was pale and so different than his, he mused as he felt how cool it was to the touch. His fingers grazed hers, before he rested his hand right next to hers. If he wanted to – not that he did, such an incredulous thought would never cross his mind! - he could easily twine them together.

"Captain Hitsugaya…?" Rukia's voice cracked lightly as she spoke quietly.

He touched her and inside she was shaking, not sure how to read even the simplest of his gestures. She knew she liked his touch - it broke through everything and even if it awakened one sensation too many, she easily could get lost in it.

At the sound of her voice, Tōshirō looked up and there was something different in his eyes.

"You make it snow" he said.

She blinked – once, twice and the confusion was utterly endearing – pretty eyes wide and dark, before she understood the meaning of his words.

"I can do that" she agreed with a small smile ,cheek still nestled against the backrest.

Tōshirō's lips arched and the outer corners of his eyes dropped ever so lightly; she would never notice it if she wasn't paying as much attention as she did. Rukia twisted a little, her knees in his direction and she seemed much more at peace than when she was dragged inside.

"One day…" she sighed over a suddenly shy smile "Maybe I can show you"

The young prodigy nodded lightly, leaning back into the rest. He'd like that… being able to witness freshly born snow along with the mostly welcomed wave of her power.

And as Rukia closed her eyes, arms wrapped around her frame and she barely stopped a yawn, Tōshirō thought that for the very first he wouldn't mind if Matsumoto took a little while longer… she might even take a detour.

And that was exactly how the bubbly Lieutenant found them, arms full of Rukia's daily yukata in blue and black, and the blonde stopped dead in her tracks. A white head on the sofa's one end, a black head on the other, with enough space for someone else to sit between them.

She couldn't see that their fingers brushed, hands but a breath away.

The sight of her Captain's haori on pale shoulders caused her lips to smile softly, and she clutched the yukata to her chest trying all her earnest not to coo out loud.

Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as she originally thought, Matsumoto realized. She never saw Tōshirō looking this calm and she witnessed a lot of his little naps. He was always tense, always ready to wake and take action, brows forever knitted and lips curled down.

Never like this…

Rukia stirred in her sleep, her small body curling more into the sofa's backrest and Tōshirō moved as if answering to her move. His body turned onto one side, facing the black haired girl and sighing with content.

Quietly, Matsumoto placed the yukata on the nearby chair, careful not to make a sound and disturbed the ice wielders' sleep. She shivered, their combined powers causing the temperature to drop, but they seemed alright with it; the blonde's lips stretched in a wide smile as she tip-toed out of the office.

She should have made a bet with Renji.

Author's Note:

One of my friends said I like torturing Rukia in all different ways… be it by beating her into a bloody pulp, or by getting her all dolled up. Well… I guess it can't be helped! I still hope everyone who's reading, enjoyed this chapter and the further progress in Rukia and Tōshirō's relationship.

"First Frost" got its first fan-art!! **happy dance** It can be found here: http://fairheartstrife(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Cool-Comfort-161553819 Just replace the (dot) with .

And it's been made by the amazingly talented Fairheartstrife. Thank you so much darling, you're too good !