Renji found Rukia sitting on the rooftop of one of Sixth Division's storage buildings that evening, her back facing him as she sat at the low pitch peak, head lowered over something before her.

"Hey, here you are," he said, startling her into flinching away. He caught the back of her black robe as she wobbled on the peak.

She smacked his hand away, stabilizing her perch, and clutching a ledger close to her chest as she threw him a quick glare. "You brute! I'm working on something."

He cocked an eyebrow, grinning as he sat beside her. "Oh, yeah? What?"

She eased the ledger away, still keeping it hidden from his view. "Not for you to see."

He drew up his knees and rested his forearms on them, looking out over the setting sun spreading warm amber tones over Sixth Division. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her curl her knees to one side and lean over the ledger again, her pen to paper. "Who's it about?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Renji."

"Oh. Kurosaki. I see."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But it's nice to know you have an imagination."

He frowned deeper. "I have a lot of imagination."

"That's not what I've heard." She paused writing for a moment, considering the paper.

"Oh, yeah? What have you heard?"

"Well, from Seventh I've heard a certain Ninth Seat say you were predictable," she said, giggling a little.

He thought for a moment. "Ninth Seat? Oh, that was ..." His eyes sharpened on her. "Predictable? I thought we had a good time."

"She didn't say it wasn't a good time; she just said it was predictable."

He growled, stretching his legs down the slope of rooftop and leaning back on his hands behind him. "Some things have a natural outcome, Rukia. They're supposed to finish a certain way. That's not being predictable."

She shrugged, pen writing on the ledger. "Maybe I'm thinking of the wrong person."

He watched her for a moment, and then swiped the paper away from her. She lunged for it, but he held her off with a palm to the forehead as he looked at her work.

"Give that back!"

Renji realized what it was after a moment of reading, Rukia's fingers trying to peel his hand off her forehead. She finally pulled his hand down as he chuckled, shaking his head at the paper. "Not you, too? These things are popping up all over Soul Society."

"I have to fill out two," she said, pushing her hair back into its normal place as his big hand had misplaced nearly every strand.

He held it out of her reach as she grabbed at it. "Where do you think your going to find someone -- a woman -- of worthy caliber to get matched up with Captain Kuchiki?"

She settled next to him, leaning over his arm as he read the questionnaire. "Matching him up isn't my problem; that's Captain Kyouraku's game. I'm just filling out the form."

He looked over what she'd written, shrugging at a few spots. "Yeah, it's him, but I don't see anyone fitting the description you've got for 'What qualities do you look for in a match?'" He handed the form back, seeing her dark eyes reconsider her answers. "Did you fill out an application yet?"

She nodded without hesitation. "Nanao made us all fill out two."

"This is the second?"

She nodded again, adding more to one of the lines on the form.

He waited a long moment, and then said, "Any takers yet?"

She held up the paper, frowning at him. "I haven't finished filling it out yet, Renji."

"Not that one. Yours."

"Oh." She smiled, eyes on the form. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Actually, yes, I would."

She laughed a little, her pen back on the paper in the growing dusk.

When she didn't elaborate, he huffed a sigh. "I can imagine what that would be. 'Diminutive unseated female with ties to nobility seeks orange-haired strawberry. Applicant willing to live in closet for proximity, if necessary. Big sword desired.'" He leaned closer as she turned a pouty face to him. "I think he's compensating for something, Rukia."

Her eyes traveled over his face. "Oh? And all these decorations you've got tattooed on yourself aren't a cry for attention?"

"Hey! You know why I got them." His elbow gave her a nudge that nearly knocked her over.

She kicked his leg with her foot. "Status seeker."

"Tag-along."

"Runner-up."

He frowned at her. "Not always."

She looked back down at the form. "Well," she said after a moment, pulling a second form from beneath the top one on the ledger, "it wouldn't hurt for you to fill one out, Renji."

His eyes dropped to the paper she handed him.

"Just don't list predictable as a quality in yourself."

"Hmph."

She stood up and smoothed her robes as he looked at the form.

The questions seemed non-invasive enough, he decided. He'd seen Kyouraku's method at work between Izuru and Orihime, and while it wasn't a very successful match, he figured the vice-captain's attire had played a big part in the failed evening.

"What did you put on yours?" he asked. "Under desired traits in a match."

Rukia laughed as she made her way down the opposite side of the rooftop. "Pretty much what you said, except I left out diminutive."

He growled as she left, her giggle floating back to him as he rolled the form tightly.

Women.

-Pairings Suggested Accepted-

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