To Love A Warrior Chapter 10, a bleach fanfic

Happy Hispanic Heritage month everyone! Blame school for my lateness. However, this lengthy chapter should make up for it. I'm pleased to say that Chad will be making an appearance, too. Not much else to say except the usual thanks for keeping up with this story.

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

Warning-Beware of some people (Ichigo and Rukia's) dirty thoughts.

Chapter Ten

Yoruichi answered the phone on the fourth ring. She'd called out for Kisuke to get it before she remembered that he was in the family room with Ichigo and Toshiro, who were glued to the television while one brawny bunch of cleated fellows stomped over another brawny set. Normally it was a happy occasion for the group. Yoruichi, who had no interest in football unless someone close to her was playing, spent the time preparing an enormous Sunday dinner.

But nobody was very happy in the family room today, because Ichigo had been acting like a bear with a sore paw ever since Christmas. That was a good two weeks ago, and the holidays were now behind them. But whatever had happened between Ichigo and Rukia had clearly not been resolved.

Not once since then had Yoruichi seen the two of them together. Poor Rukia looked pale and Ichigo looked like death warmed over. Both of them had parried her attempts to get them to share their feelings. It was obvious that they couldn't go on this way.

"Hello dear." It was Yomi Shihoin's cheery voice on the phone. "I just heard a bit of news I thought you should know. I hope it won't be too distressing."

"Oh?"

"You know that young lady you've got staying with you? The one who plays cops and robbers with Ichigo?"

Yoruichi knew Rukia would shudder at the description, but she was too interested in Yomi's gossip-and a little bit concerned-to correct her mother's mistake. "Yes?"

"Well, Sajin Komamura was over here this morning when he brought Chitose back from church. He's such a good son-in-law, you know. Every Sunday-"

"Mother, what did Sajin say?" Yoruichi was growing worried now. Sajin was a Realtor. If Rukia had been to see him...

"She called him on Christmas Eve. Told him to find her a cute little house to buy or rent as soon as possible. Chitose told me that Sajin says Rukia sounded downright desperate to get out of your house. I know there can't be anything wrong with your hospitality, dear. I imagine she's had some sort of lover's spat with Ichigo."

Yoruichi figured that was the understatement of the century. "Has Sajin had any luck?" she asked. "We don't have that many small houses for sale in Karakura."

"No, we don't. But Chitose's next-door neighbor had a stroke last month and may be here to stay. Sajin got her to agree to lease the house to Rukia with an option to buy if she can't go home in a year."

Yoruichi closed her eyes as she waited for the news that would break Ichigo's heart.

"The lease begins on January fifteenth. She'll be moving out next weekend."

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Aunt Yoruichi was gentle when she told Ichigo the news, but he still wanted to bang his head against a wall. Oh, he knew Rukia had done him a favor. The Uraharas were his people. She was the one who had to leave. Hadn't he told her that the night she'd moved in? How he'd hated her then! Now he lay awake, night after night, listening to Rukia toss and turn in the bed she'd so savagely denied him. The days were even worse, when keeping the crudest emotional distance from her seemed to be the only way Ichigo could survive. If he gave an inch, he'd be on his knees to her, begging her to surrender to him all over again.

If the problem had merely been sex, he could have tripled his workout time and found some way to ignore it. But it was so much more than that. He ached for Rukia in a way he could not explain, because he'd never hurt for a woman quite this way before. He had grown accustomed to living with her, side by side, day by day, in a quiet kind of marriage that went far beyond the delights of sex or the demands of the job. It was pure hell to have her so near and yet so brutally far away.

Yes, he was glad she was going. But dammit, why did his grandmother's news make him feel like some giant fish speared through the heart?

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

On Wednesday night, Rukia was still awake when Ichigo came in after his late shift. She was always awake, always listening, always worried about how much she'd hurt him, worried about how much he'd hurt her. And, because he was a cop, even in a little place like Karakkura, she was always worried that something might happen to him.

There didn't seem to be any solution to their problem. At first, when Ichigo became so stiff and angry, Rukia had almost been relieved. Anything had seemed easier than fending off his incredibly potent kisses. But over time the relief had faded and the pain was growing worse. Rukia was once more starting to seek some magical middle ground where they could each give some kind of platonic friendship without unbearable guilt and lust.

She was lying in bed, fighting a twinge of recurrent pain in her scarred left shoulder, when she heard Ichigo's footsteps on the stairs around 1-00 A.M. The tantalizing aroma of pepperoni wafted through the cracks under the door. Following her instincts, Rukia jumped out of bed, taking a moment to pull on jeans and a t-shirt. After their previous middle-of-the-night fiasco, the last thing she wanted to do was go to his room in her bathrobe.

Rukia reached Ichigo's door just as he was closing it. He spotted her and opened the door a crack, scowling. "What do you want? Trouble at the station house?"

She shook her head, hating his dry indifference. "I woke up to the smell of pizza," she declared in forced light tones. "The temptation is killing me. Got enough for two?"

Ichigo looked surprised, but nonetheless tore off a couple of joined sheets from the roll of paper towels under his arm. Without a single wasted motion, he tugged three pieces of pizza out of the box, laid them on the paper towels and thrust them in her direction. Then he asked coldly, "Is there anything else that won't wait until I'm back on duty, Captain?"

Gravely she met his eyes, struggling for words to break the impasse. "When my father worked swing shift, he never could go right to sleep. He liked to watch TV or read for a while. He loved it if I was still awake when he came in. Then we'd sit and talk about all kinds of things."

A wash of pain darkened Ichigo's weary features. Rukia could see his stubbled jaw tighten.

He hasn't forgotten the passion that singed us the one time we broke all the rules. She hugged the thought to herself. He didn't lie when he confessed his love for me.

Darkly he warned, "I'm not your father, Captain." He started to close the door again.

"Ichigo-" he opened the door once more "-I wanted to tell you about some more evidence I found pertaining to Meiko Kuna's death."

His eyes narrowed. "Evidence?"

"I think so." Actually, Rukia wasn't sure whether she'd found any evidence or not, but her serendipitous discovery might keep him listening for a few more minutes. "Do you remember that I spilled some punch on that Oriental rug at the Kunas' house on Christmas Eve?"

He winced as though the memory were one he'd like to forget. "I remember."

"Well, by the time I thought to ask Yoruichi who I should discuss it with, Mashiro had already sent it to the cleaners. So I called the cleaners to intercept the bill, and as soon as I mentioned the spill, this guy-"

"Hanataro Yamada."

"Right, Hanataro Yamada. He said that he'd had to send the rug to Seireitei for special treatment. The punch was no problem, but it would cost extra for the blood. And I said, 'What blood?' because I didn't remember anybody getting hurt while I was there."

"Nobody got hurt before I left, either."

"Exactly. Nobody got hurt at all. I asked Yoruichi that after he told me that he thought the blood was really old and dried up."

Ichigo looked tired, frustrated... maybe even bored. "So?"

"So, Yoruichi called Mashiro, and guess what?" This was the climax of the story. She didn't have any other tantalizing secrets to keep him from slamming the door in her face.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"I found out that the rug used to be in Meiko's room. It was rolled up years ago-not too long after she disappeared-and nobody even looked at it again until Mashiro started remodeling. I think-"

"I know what you think," Ichigo said coolly. "You think there's a good chance that Meiko's blood is on that rug, and you think the coroners in Seireitei can match it to bone marrow he can extract from her skeleton. You know what I think?"

"What?"

He stepped back into his room. "I think you could have waited until morning to tell me about it."

Rukia couldn't stifle the terrible wash of pain his rejection caused her. Neither could she stop herself from grabbing the doorknob.

"Oh, Ichigo, I know you're tired! But can't we just... talk... the way we used to? When we were friends?"

He stared at her bleakly, looking more sad than angry now. "No, we can't." His tone left no room for argument.

Rukia blinked back an unexpected tear. "Please Ichigo! I hate this tension between us! I miss you!"

His jaw twitched. He didn's say he missed her, too. "I hear you're moving out this weekend. That hardly sounds like you're longing for my company. You really hurt my Aunt's feelings by not telling her up front."

Rukia swallowed hard. "I told her the very day my plans were confirmed. It's not my fault that some old bag beat me to the punch."

Now he positively scowled. "That 'old bag' is my grandmother! You remember-the one who lovingly made your little angel cop?"

He might as well have hit her with a baseball bat. The last thing she'd intended to do was insult his grandmother! "You know why I have to leave so quickly, Ichigo." Rukia's voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "I'm doing it as much for you as for me."

His gaze fell to the floor. "Your living quarters are none of my business, Captain. I don't give a damn where you reside." Again he tried to shut the door.

"You can't have forgotten the friendship we once had, Ichigo," she pleaded, pushing the door open with her foot. Even his anger was better than this! "You can't tell me that you're that fickle a human being. One minute your my colleague, then my friend, you say you want to be my lover and now... you hate me? What should I believe?"

"Believe any damn thing you want! It's got nothing to do with me!"

Rukia pulled back as though he'd hit her. Then she handed back the pizza, knowing she'd never be able to get down a bite. "Forgive me for troubling you, Ichigo."

She was almost to the door before she heard him say bitterly, "Captain?"

She stopped, grateful that he'd called her back, even if he still refused to call her by her name.

"You can't have your cake and eat it, too."

Rukia turned around and faced him. "I'm not asking for a miracle, Ichigo. Just a little civility, a little warmth. When I first came here you treated me like dirt, and I could bear it, because you meant nothing to me and I knew I meant nothing to you. But now that we've shared so much, it kills me when you treat me like I have a disease or something."

For a long moment he was silent. A thousand demons warred on his rugged face. At last he said almost gently, "I'm sorry you're hurting, Captain. I wish I could hep you."

The surrender in his low tone wounded her unbearably-how badly she'd hurt this wonderful man-but it filled her with hope. Rukia took a step toward him again, knowing she had to keep her distance, longing to pull him close.

"Please, Ichigo," she whispered, unable to bide the wrenching pain inside her. "I can't go on like this!"

He jammed both hands deep into his pockets, as though he could not restrain himself from touching her. She waited, aching, while he slowly met her eyes. The anguish she saw there shook her to the core.

"Captain," he hoarsely confessed, "I can't go on any other way."

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Thursday afternoon Ichigo was getting ready to go talk to a woman whose store had been robbed-by the crooks in the blue van again-when Rukia poked her head out of her office and called, "Lieutenant? I need you in here."

He moved toward her stiffly, wondering how to keep her at bay this time. Their encounter last night had been nip and tuck. The anger that had kept him going since Christmas had cooled to the ashes of despair.

As he reached the doorway, Rukia whispered, "We've got trouble, Ichigo. For Karakura's sake, try to put aside your hatred of me for the next few minutes. You can always go back to being nasty later."

The plea shocked him. Put so baldly, it made him ashamed of the way he'd been treating Rukia. It also made him wonder about the trouble she now faced. She must be pretty desperate to seek his help.

Ichigo was surprised to discover that the civilian in Rukia's office was a man his own age dressed in a well-cut navy suit and a blue-striped tie. His butterscotch complexion and angular features hinted at some Indian or Hispanic ancestry. His wavy brown hair was clean and shiny, and hung over his equally brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you," Yasutora Sado said pleasantly when Rukia introduced him. As he stood to shake Ichigo's hand, he noticed that the man's impressive height dwarfed him by at least six inches, and Rukia didn't stand a chance being almost two whole feet shorter.

"Likewise." Ichigo was about to ask how he could help the man when he remembered that he was number two on this totem pole. It would not do to snatch power from Rukia's hands.

"Lieutenant, Mr. Sado plans to seek a court order stopping the planned ground-breaking of the new wing of a summer lodge out by the beach. He is concerned that the expansion may encroach on a Mexican burial ground."

Ichigo wasn't sure what to say to that. All his life he'd heard rumors of a Mexican burial ground in the area, but Karakura had an impressive collection of tall tales about its past. Nobody took them seriously.

Unsure of what direction Rukia wanted him to take, he offered, "The original lodge was built fifty years ago, Mr. Sado. Surely if there was a burial ground in the area, someone would have voiced concern then."

Sado shook his head. He'd come armed with intelligence and conviction.

"Someone voiced concern, but no one listened. The Mexicans were invisible to bureaucrats then." His words were quiet, but that along with his deep, powerful voice seemed to lend inches to his already considerable stature. "Now we have laws to protect us. Once again we have people with the will to fight for what is ours."

Ichigo sensed the quiet determination of the man and realized that he would not be easy to brush aside. Oddly enough, he didn't really want to. Hotheaded radicals always made him angry, no matter what their cause, and he'd assumed that Sado was just another one. But now he had to reconsider.

Still, he knew why Rukia was worried. This visit was not an idle act of a renegade. It was a probe, a first step, a symbolic act for a much larger group of people. If Karakura handled Yasutora Sado well, no more might come of it. If somebody botched things badly, there would be hell to pay, with or without proof of a burial ground. It would make no difference to the Mexicans, let alone to the press.

Sado turned back to Rukia. "I don't want to get arrested. I don't want to cause a scene. All I want to do is make sure that no sacred bones of my people are disturbed by this renovation. I want to stop the construction process legally, just long enough to verify that it won't impact the burial ground."

Rukia moved around to her desk, sat down and gestured for the men to do likewise. Both followed suit.

"Mr. Sado, what evidence do you have that there is a Mexican burial ground in that specific area?"

A look of great sorrow passed over his face as he replied, "My Grandfather says there is a burial ground north of Karakura."

Rukia waited. Ichigo watched her closely.

"Does he know for sure that it's on that specific property?" Rukia asked, as though Sado's grandfather had produced voluminous evidence to verify his facts. Ichigo had to admit that when it came to this Mexican, Rukia's sober approach seemed to be more effective than Jushiro's humor.

Sado shook his head. "He is an old man, Captain Kuchiki, and very frail. He has not visited our ancestral land for many years. What he remembers is a cluster of oaks in the shape of a horseshoe. When he sees it, he says he will know. I am just the scout."

Rukia met Ichigo's eyes. For the first time in days, he saw no anger there, no fear. He saw a police Captain who trusted the instincts of her men. "Are there any clusters of oaks in the shape of a horseshoe at the lodge, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Ichigo thought a minute, then shook his head. "No, not that I recall."

"Are you familiar with the land surrounding the lodge?"

"Yes, I am." He didn't see any point in mentioning that three years ago he'd purchased a piece of land in the area on which he planned to build his dream house-a house that he couldn't even design until he found his dream woman and was ready to start a family. He didn't go out there to visit much anymore. Nowadays it represented a dream that seemed to be slipping away from him.

Just like the woman before him.

"The trees are sparse near the buildings, but very dense around the lake. There's a nice meadow or two where we used to have picnics."

Rukia's eyes were still on him, waiting, watching... trusting him. "What else."

"There are six or seven tourist cabins in the area."

Sado was watching him intently now. "I just want to look, sir. If I cannot find anything that resembles a horseshoe of oak trees, then I will know that the burial ground is farther west, or the trees have been cut down." He did not mention the possibility that his grandfather could be wrong.

Now Rukia said carefully, "What you're asking for is carte blanche to examine a great deal of private property without any legal authorization. I'm not certain that all the owners will approve."

Sado's face darkened. A note of bitterness crept into his tightly controlled voice. "I am here to seek legal authorization. I could have come in the night. I could have invaded the privacy of these people who claim to own Mexican land. Instead I came to the police as a law-abiding Japanese citizen." He looked at Ichigo, then back at Rukia. "Most things can be arranged with the right words in advance. Surely these people will let me search for the burial ground if they understand that I mean no harm."

Ichigo knew what the man was really saying- I would prefer to do it legally, but if I can't, I will do it the other way. He seemed too rational to take the risk. Ichigo almost had the feeling that searching for the burial ground was something he did not want to do. He spoke like a man who had no choice.

Sado leaned toward Rukia now, both elbows resting on her desk. In a low, unhappy tone he said, "Captain, please understand. I want no trouble, but I will not turn aside if trouble stands in the way of my duty. I promised my grandfather I would find that horseshoe of oaks and protect the dead who are buried there. He feels it is his duty to his ancestral clan." It was obvious that his grandfather's conviction made it Sado's duty, too.

Rukia studied Sado thoughtfully. "Surely most of your grandfather's clan are long since dead."

"Exactly, Captain," Sado agreed, his brown eyes meeting hers forcefully. "They have no one left to speak for them."

An eerie silence filled the room, a silence that somehow bound the three people of the present with a thousand souls of the past. Ichigo saw Rukia struggle with the problem Sado had tossed in her lap. Her mournful violet eyes met Ichigo's sadly as she realized he was watching her. He had always known how much he missed her. Now, as he thought about her plea for his friendship last night, he realized how much she missed him.

Ichigo had dozens of close friends in Karakura. Rukia didn't have a soul outside the warmth of the boarding house.

She was going to miss casual dinners with Shunsui and Kisuke. She'd even come to enjoy spunky Rangiku. Yoruichi was becoming her dear friend.

And secretly Ichigo still believed that Rukia loved him.

Suddenly he wanted to throw Sado out of the room and seize Rukia in his arms. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, loved her desperately, that he had a little patch of land waiting for the two of them to build a home on. Other men on the force dated profesional women! Jushro Ukitake had encountered no censure when he'd married after his first wife died. Surely-

Rukia's phone rang, abruptly puncturing the silence and interrupting the bizarre trail of Ichigo's thoughts. She answered on the first ring, gave a short reply, then stood up. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Mr. Sado, I have an emergency. Lieutenant Kurosaki, please make whatever quiet arrangements you can to help Mr. Sado find his burial ground."

Ichigo was surprised by the trust she'd placed in him; it was the first time she'd tacitly admitted that he knew things she didn't about Karakura's land and people. Bit by bit Rukia had learned to trust Ichigo's instincts, but she'd never before acknowledged that he could, in his own way, be more effective than she in grappling with a given problem.

As Rukia left, Sado watched Ichigo with knowing eyes. "Well, Lieutenant-"

"Just call me Ichigo. I'm not really one for formalities."

"Ichigo, then, she is the boss, but you and I both know that you are the only one who can help me. This is your town. These are your people. You can ask them for a favor. The Captain can only order them to comply."

It was true, but Ichigo felt a curious need to uphold Rukia's authority. "She outranks me, Chad-"

"My name is Yasutora not-"

"But you look more like a Chad to me. Anyway, I know it may be hard for you to imagine that a woman would hold such a position, but-"

"It is obviously hard for you to imagine, Ichigo, but it is easy for me."

Ichigo was taken aback. "Why is it easier for you?"

Chad chuckled, a warm and happy sound that made Ichigo hope he could get the owners of the cabins out by the lake to let him search for the horseshoe of oak trees. "When I look at Captain Kuchiki," Chad explained, "I see a competent police officer. When you look at her, her uniform keeps sliding off."

Ichigo's jaw dropped. He was too surprised to lie. "How did you know?! Not that anything's ever happened-"

"Oh, I think a great deal has happened," Chad corrected him. "At least in your heart." He stood up and headed toward the door, surprising Ichigo by handing him a respectable-looking business card with an admonition to call when he'd made the arrangements. "I don't know why the two of you are trying to hide what is obvious to a man with keen eyes. Everybody will know the lay of the land soon enough." He shook Ichigo's hand as he teased, "If I felt that way about a woman, I would take her back to my place and keep her there permanently."

Ichigo just scowled at him. "Shut up, Chad."

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

It was about three o'clock on Friday when Renji Abarai poked his head into Rukia's office and said, "Captain Kuchiki? Omaeda and Hisagi just found something kind of odd."

"Odd, how?" she asked, realizing with a curious sense of pleasure that his tone sounded almost friendly and respectful. In the beginning, the sergeant had opposed her almost as vigorously as Ichigo had. Nowadays Renji seemed pleased that she frequently turned to him.

With Ichigo barely speaking to her, Rukia didn't have much choice. Orihime still walked on eggshells around her, though since Christmas Nanao didn't seem to be giving her such a wide berth. Marechiyo Omaeda had lost so much weight that Rukia had risked telling him how great he looked, and he'd grinned from ear to ear as he'd reported he'd had to buy some uniforms in a smaller size. The other men were respectful but restrained in her presence. She couldn't tell whether any of them suspected what was going on in her heart.

As she thought about the way Ichigo had looked at her during their meeting with Yasutora Sado, she wondered what was going on in his heart. They had seemed perfectly in sync regarding the Mexican's plea.

Yasutora Sado was the sort of man who did not forget the values he'd been taught by his family, the sort of man to whom integrity was law. Why couldn't I fall for a hunk like Chad? Rukia challenged herself. He's handsome. He's deep. He's determined but respectful. The only thing wrong with him is that he's not Ichigo.

But that was just the point. She couldn't fall in love with a man who did not move her profoundly, and she didn't dare yield to one who was ready to claim her soul. Ever since she'd met Ichigo, she'd felt her tough self-control slipping away from her. If he'd been a different sort of man, he could have-would have-destroyed her career by now.

"It's a suitcase," said Renji, snapping Rukia back to reality. "Looks like it's fallen out of a car or maybe been tossed."

She watched him closely. "So?"

His eyes narrowed. "The clothes inside are totally rotted. Disintegrated. Like they've been soaked and left to molder in there for a hundred years. And here's the corker. It's got brass initials-M.A.K.-on the side."

"M.A.K.," she repeated. It took a moment, but then Rukia followed his line of thought. "What was Meiko Kuna's middle name, Sergeant?"

He lifted his hands and grinned. "Ai."

Rukia grinned back. "Where is it?"

"In the evidence room. We were afraid to mess with the insides much. Everything's so fragile."

"Good work, Sergeant," she praised him sincerely, pleased to see him glow. "Call Lieutenant Kurosakai and ask him to drop by and check it out when he gets a chance, would you?" It was Ichigo's day off, but Rukia knew he wouldn't mind coming in. Besides, it would be a lot smarter to discuss the suitcase with him during the busy hour when the shifts were changing than in the isolated danger zone of her last night in their mutual home.

It took Renji a while to locate Ichigo, who showed up at the station house about seven. He went directly to the evidence room to examine the suitcase, then popped in to see Rukia.

Under his ski jacket he was wearing his usual off-duty clothes-jeans and a sweatshirt-but his skin had a vigorous glow that had been noticeably absent lately. He almost looked happy. Rukia wanted to ask him how he spent his spare time these days, but she knew it was a personal question... which made it off-limits. She certainly couldn't ask him if her greatest fear was true-that he might have found somebody else to take her place.

"Let me show it to Seno, Captain," Ichigo suggested. "I think there's a good chance it's Meiko Kuna's. It looks like it used to be a very expensive piece of luggage. The clothes aren't fit to be sold now, but they were once very stylish. There's a fancy hat with gold trim that I'm sure I've heard somebody mention before."

Rukia had dressed up in a crisp black suit today because she'd had to make a presentation at a local service club's lunchtime meeting. As she met Ichgo's eyes, she realized that she was searching for some sign of admiration for her posh look, and after a tense moment, she got it. Ichigo didn't say anything out loud, but his gaze took in her entire outfit, from her ruffled blouse to her fashionable boots, before he nodded once in silent approval.

Suddenly Rukia felt delicate and pretty-a warning, if there ever was one, that she should quickly send Ichigo on his errand. Still, she was temped to go along with him to judge Seno's reaction to the suitcase herself.

Is that really why you want to go, Rukia? an inner voice taunted. Or are you simply losing the will to resist him?

"If this is Meiko's suitcase, it would lend credence to Seno's claim that she left a note and was planning to leave him," Ichigo said thoughtfully.

"A note nobody ever saw," Rukia pointed out, struggling to keep her mind on business. "An intention she never mentioned to anybody else."

"A logical intention if she was playing around, Rukia."

Her eyes flashed up as she heard her name; it was the first time Ichigo had called her anything but "Captain" since the night he'd aroused her to the edge of no return. Struggling to forget the feel of his hands, Rukia said, "If she was about to leave him for another man-not a bad theory, considering what we know of her-that only gives Seno a better motive for murder. He could have killed her and faked the note."

"He couldn't have faked the suitcase. It's been out in that garage for a decade, all right. Nobody can fake that sort of mold and decay."

"Oh, I don't doubt that it's been out there all this time. But who's to say Meiko Kuna packed that suitcase 11 years ago. Seno could have done it to back up his story that she ran away. Think about it. It's possible."

Ichigo took a deep breath. Anything's possible, Bunnyhead, his eyes seemed to say. You're the one who wrote these awful rules. You're the one who can change them.

Rukia told herself she was imagining his mute message. They'd put all this behind them, hadn't they?

"It's possible that somebody else packed it, too," Ichigo continued prosaically. "Somebody other than Seno could have known that Meiko was planning to leave him and could have used the same logic to stage a cover-up when he killed her."

"Or she."

To Rukia's surprise, he gave her a small smile, that damned dimpled smile that always stunned her. In spite of her firm resolutions, her heart did a tiny backflip, and in the emptiness of her secret woman's place she felt a hot rush of awareness of what she'd sacrificed when she'd turned this magnificent man away.

"If Meiko had a lover, he might have been married, too." Rukia raised her eyebrows. "Hell hath no fury, and all that."

"Anything's possible," Ichigo agreed, leaning almost casually against her desk. You and I, for instance. Haven't you had enough time to change your mind?

Fiercely Rukia told herself she was imagining his unspoken pleas tonight. Surely he wouldn't try to seduce her again after all this time!

Rukia couldn't put her finger on it, but there was a change in him this evening. He seemed curiously content. Not exactly smug or hopeful, but somehow satisfied. His face wasn't marred by those deep scowl lines she'd grown accustomed to seeing. Maybe he wasn't seeing somebody else. Maybe he was just relieved because she was moving out tomorrow.

As she studied his broad chest and tough-tender eyes, Rukia sadly acknowleded that it would take a lot more than a change of lodging for her to get over Ichigo. She could change jobs, change professions, change countries, and it wouldn't make much difference. He'd burrowed his way deep into her heart where no man had ever gone before, and he was hunkered down to stay. What she'd give to find a way to have room in her life for police work and Ichigo Kurosaki at the same time! He wasn't just a passing fancy, a mere temptation to indulge in a hot-

"Look, Rukia, I don't know what you've got in mind."

"About what?"

Her alarm seemed to surprise him. "About confronting Seno. Do you think it's important that you go by yourself?"

"I... intended to send you, Lieutenant," she told him honestly. "I once suspected that your intimacy with the family would impede this investigation, but I've come to see that it might be a useful key to solving it."

Ichigo looked touched. "I'm honored, Captain." His voice dropped a notch as he added, "Might I suggest that we go together when you wrap things up here? Even when we don't plan it, we seem to be quite effective playing good cop/bad cop. I think that might work to our advantage in this situation."

Rukia stood up, met his eyes, then glanced away as she realized how clearly he could read her feelings. She was weakening again, wounded by the vision of moving to an empty house when they'd once shared such happy times in their tiny second-floor home. It was always dangerous to be alone with Ichigo... doubly so on this last night. But how much worse could a simple car ride be than sleeping next door to him every night, aching for the feel of his hands on her breasts?

Gingerly she offered, "I guess we do make a pretty good team."

Rukia knew it was a mistake the minute the words were out of her mouth. Ichigo gave her that crazy, dimpled smile-broad and happy this time-as he drawled, "We do, Ru. We make a damn fine twosome."

His eyes told her he wasn't talking about police work. Her pulse told her he had something else in mind tonight.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Ichigo drove up to the Kunas house at seven-forty-five with Rukia by his side. He'd spent most of the afternoon secretly setting up his surprise at her new home. Chitose's neighbor's son had already moved all of the elderly lady's furniture into storage, which meant that Rukia expected to move into an empty house. In her desperation to get away from Ichigo, she'd actually planned to spend her first night on the floor in a sleeping bag. She'd told Yoruichi that she intended to purchase furniture over the weekend. Ichigo told himself he was just saving her a little time and money.

But his selections from the Uraharas' basement had not been made at random, and the extra touches he'd added would have been a surprise to his aunt. Chad had probably not been serious when he'd suggested that Ichigo take Rukia back to his place, but the Mexican's comment had started him thinking-not about the dead ends that were closed off to him, but about the options neither he nor Rukia had yet considered. Over and over again Ichigo had thought about their situation- the sense of home they'd once experienced in their virtual shared suite, the incredible emptiness that would assail him when she moved out tomorrow, the loneliness that would swallow her up in that vacant house tomorrow night. And in the wee small hours of the morning, Ichigo had suddenly realized that he had to find a way to keep her by his side.

If he couldn't take Rukia to his place, he'd take his place to Rukia.

He was glad to have some time alone with her tonight to spell out his long-term plans. Such openness would probably be a mistake, but some mistakes were unavoidable. And just about any mistake was preferable to losing Rukia altogether.

Ichigo carried the decrepit suitcase up the well-shoveled walk and rang the bell, feeling guilty about coming to Seno's house as a cop in pursuit of evidence that might ultimately convict him. Rukia stood perfectly still beside him but did not speak. She was so close he could smell her clean soapy scent. So close he could have leaned down and kissed her if she'd turned her head.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her desperately! But somehow he found the strength to face the other way.

"Why, Ichigo!" Mashiro said as she opened the door, her kind hazel eyes lacking their usual warmth when she spotted Rukia. "What a pleasure to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Mashiro. You remember Captain Kuchiki?"

Now Mashiro's eyes were definitely guarded. "Of course, Captain. Please come in-and let me take your coats."

After divesting them of their winter wear, they walked silently to the living room. Ichigo was still carrying the suitcase, but Mashiro didn't seem to have noticed it.

"Is your father here, Mrs. Muguruma?" Rukia asked in a clipped tone.

"Well, yes, he is. He's upstairs reading at the moment."

"Would you please call him down here?"

Mashiro licked her lips. "Well, of course I can, Captain. Is something wrong?" Her worried gaze flickered back to Ichigo.

He felt terrible. He cared for this woman. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to tell Rukia not to play bad cop.

"Please go fetch him, Mashiro," he said gently. "This won't take long."

"You're not going to arr..." She stopped, horrified at her own words.

She hadn't said it, not outright, but Ichigo knew exactly where her thoughts were heading, and he was sure that Rukia knew it, too.

At that moment Seno appeared at the top of the stairs, waved a cheery hello and came on down. He was a strong man, still clinging to the tail end of his prime. Mashiro turned to face him, visibly trembling. "Ichigo's here, Dad," she said. "And Captain Kuchiki wants to talk to you."

Ichigo watched the same look pass over Seno's face that he'd seen on Mashiro's when she'd first caught sight of Rukia on the porch. It wasn't the look of guilt, exactly, but it was most certainly more than everyday fear.

"We found this suitcase on the outskirts of town today, Mr. Kuna," Rukia said in her sternest voice. "We think it might have belonged to your wife. We'd like you to identify it."

To Ichigo's intense relief, Seno's face relaxed. Whether he recognized the suitcase or not, he clearly did not think it held any secrets that could be used against him. He made no comment as Ichigo laid it flat and opened it, revealing the moldy remnants of leather shoes, silk blouses, and a dramatic hat with gold trim.

It was Mashiro, much to Ichigo's despair, who suddenly covered her face with both hands and began to cry. She'd been 16 years old when she'd last saw her mother, but it was obvious that she still held that hat in some secret part of her memory. Ichigo wondered what else she remembered... and what she was trying so hard to forget.

FINALLY! That took me forever since I'm all sick, and it's hard to concentrate and stuff. But still, I think it turned out okay. I know a lot happened in this chapter so feel free to drop any questions you might have involving the plotline in your reviews and I'll try to get back to you.