Once again, I am grateful for the assistance of my wonderful beta, xfang-girlx. As always, she caught my errors that would have been really embarrassing for me.
Let the drama begin... :D
"I think we should take a break," Ichigo announced, fording the gulf of silence that had formed between them. He had successfully managed to make an already uncomfortable situation downright unbearable.
Riko stared straight ahead out of the small kitchen window of her apartment. She studied the bright red petals of the geranium as if she had never seen one before. Determined not to cry in front of him, she bit the inside of her cheek so the physical pain would distract her from her emotional pain.
"A break," she mumbled, hearing the tremor in her voice. "What do you mean? A permanent break or - "
"Just a temporary break," he interrupted in a gush of words. He wanted to reach out to her, to take her into his arms, and...and what? Apologize for being a selfish asshole? Watching her shoulders begin to quake, he wondered if she was angry or about to burst into tears. Maybe both. He was confused and felt as if he were in over his head. His emotions had gotten away from him which scared the hell out of him. He had jumped without looking, diving in way too soon. Now, he needed time to rein in his runaway emotions - to start thinking with his head and not his heart. He had already done that once, and it had nearly destroyed him.
"Temporary," she repeated, folding her arms over her chest. It was if she were trying to hold the breaking pieces of her heart inside so he would not see them.
"I-I-I j-j-just...," he stuttered helplessly, his brain searching desperately for the right words while his tongue stumbled making him look like a ridiculous fool. He was a ridiculous fool. "I just need time to think."
Maybe you should have done that before asking me to move in with you, Riko thought but did not utter the words. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves that were already overwhelmed, she turned to look at him. She did not want to voice her next words, but as a matter of female pride she felt like she had to. Though she loved him, dignity would not allow her to beg him to stay in a relationship with her. "Take all the time you need," she told him, dragging in a deep breath with much effort. "Just don't be surprised if I'm not waiting on you when you make your decision about us."
Riko fixed her eyes on the wall beyond him so she would not have to look into his eyes. If she dared to look into those warm brown eyes that always held so much emotion the rest of his face refused to acknowledge, she would cave and beg him to reconsider. That would be like pleading with him to love her which she would not do no matter how deep her feelings for him.
Things had been a bit awkward and different between them since that day he had asked her to move in with him. After a week of the weirdness and discomfort that had only grown worse, Ichigo had decided to throw in the towel so to speak. He was doing this for the both of them so they could both think and decide where to go with their relationship. "Riko...please don't be angry. I'm doing this for - "
"I swear Ichigo if you say it's for my benefit I will kill you here on the spot. I'm not angry. I'm hurt. But please, take all the time you need to figure out how you really feel about me," she said, sarcasm bred by her mounting anger seeping into her voice. "And since this is for my own good, believe me, I'll do the same."
Riko turned her back to him, biting her lip as the tears would no longer remain hidden. She felt the first tear course down her cheek hot, bitter, and stinging to be quickly followed by more. The sound of his footsteps met her ears gradually fading as he made his way to the door. The door creaked as he opened it; a harsh sound that made her feel as if her ears were about to bleed. Then the soft click of the door closing. It may as well have been a thousand clanging cymbals in her head since it sounded so loud to her. Dropping to her knees, she cried. She cried until her head ached, her tears were no longer salty, and she felt dehydrated. Forcing herself to stand, she held her head high and took a deep breath. Tomorrow would come no matter how much her heart ached. The world would not stop on account of her feeling as if her personal world had come to an end. She would have to be ready to face it.
~...~
Obviously, Riko had become a masochist at some point. It seemed as if she enjoyed hurting herself. Standing at the big window looking into Isamu's room her heart was being ripped to shreds. The child was unconscious since he was being kept in a drug induced coma after the experimental treatment. A plastic tent covered his bed to keep him in a sterile environment. Anyone who entered the tent had to wear a sterile suit that covered them head to toe after scrubbing up and being decontaminated. The treatment had destroyed the boy's immune system. However, it had also obliterated the cancer that had once been a death sentence. Now, it was a waiting game; to wait and see if his nearly non-existent immune system would recover and be able to protect him. Otherwise, he would be forced to live in a bubble the rest of his life; whatever kind of life that would be.
"Please...please get better," she pleaded, closing her eyes. Riko pressed her palm to the glass, leaning her forehead against the cool smooth surface. A hand touched her shoulder, startling her. Once her heart stopped beating so loudly it was deafening her and her blurry vision cleared, she could see Uryū standing beside her. The sadness and sympathy in his intensely deep blue eyes made her want to slap him. It offended her that he felt sorry for her, although it should not. When his hand moved toward her face, she automatically recoiled from his impending touch.
"You're crying," he said, cupping her cheek with his palm. Using his thumb to brush away the tear that slid from her eye, he offered her a comforting smile.
Riko had no idea that she was crying. Who was she really crying for? Isamu or herself? Both actually. The pain in her heart had nearly become too much for her. Seeing Isamu in his present state had further inflicted pain upon her that she had not been expecting. A person could only take so much emotional damage before they broke completely.
"What else is bothering you?" he asked, his voice soft and undemanding as if she were a tortured animal he might frighten away.
Riko shook her head, warmth crawling up her neck and covering her face. She was mortified that she could not pull herself together. She did not want to talk about it, especially not with her boss. It was too personal. Besides, he was friends with Ichigo so that would put him in a very bad position to drag him into it.
"I'll be fine. I just need a little time to get myself together. I'll meet you in the office in thirty minutes. I-I'm sorry," she apologized, unsure as to what she was apologizing for. For some strange reason, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do at this time. Moving past him to make her escape in the elevator, she decided she would go to the pond to find the tranquility she so desperately needed at this moment.
Thirty minutes later when she did not show in her office, Uryū took a walk to the pond to find her. He paused on the sidewalk, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his white dress pants. Taking a moment to examine her, he could tell by the hint of despair on her face that she was upset about more than Isamu in his present perilous condition. She bore that far away expression of a woman drowning in a sea of heartache. Way to go, Ichigo. You've done it again, he thought silently as he watched her. Sighing heavily, he thought about the man who always strived so hard to do the right thing, to think of others first, and never hurt anyone. He almost felt sorry for Ichigo because in his determination to take the noble route, the high road so to speak, Ichigo always succeeded in hurting the person he sought to protect and himself in the misguided process. Sighing again, he removed his hands from his pockets to go to her. He was not sure she was aware of his presence when he sat beside her on the bench because she never moved and her gaze was fixed on the fountain in the pond.
"Has he always tried to be the knight in shining armor?" Riko asked without moving her eyes from the water jetting up into the air.
Uryū smiled, resisting the desire to chuckle. Of course Ichigo had done something chivalrous to save her feelings but tore them apart anyway. "Always. What happened?"
"I shouldn't be discussing this with you. You are his friend and - "
"I asked. If I did not want you to continue, I would have let it go. Now, tell me."
Riko turned her head to look at her boss sitting beside her. She frowned at the serious but tender expression on his face. She was not a child to be coddled or pandered to, especially by him.
"Fine, then just pout about it," Uryū muttered, rising to a standing position.
"He said we need to take a break so he can think and get his head straight," she blurted, feeling even more ridiculous and juvenile at the moment.
"Oh?" He sat back down, watching the deep red blush of humiliation creep across her cheeks.
"Do you know what infuriates me the most?" she queried, watching the ducks glide along the surface of the water. "Our relationship seems to be completely dictated by him. It moves, or doesn't move, only when he wants it to. I feel like I'm just along for the ride. I don't like it."
"Ichigo is quite complicated and infuriating. However," he added, receiving her full attention at last. "When he loves someone, he loves them completely. Love frightens him. He's lost two of the most important women in his life due to circumstances he could not control. Maybe being such a control freak allows him to not feel so terrified. Just be patient with him. I'm sure he loves you. Give him the time he needs to sort things out and everything will be fine."
Riko smiled at him. She knew she could fully trust him as a reliable source of insight and advice concerning Ichigo. He had also been subject to the odd and counterintuitive ways of Ichigo who had ended their friendship, cutting off all contact, to protect him. Leaning back on the bench, she sighed noisily. All she had thought about was what she had given up to be in the relationship. She had quit her job to find a new one, she had waited on him to begin with for what seemed like forever, and then he had asked her to give up her home and way of life for him. She had even given up her safety to stand between him and Grimmjow. What had he sacrificed? His heart? She had done the same for him. So what else?
"Don't think so hard about this," Uryū said, standing up again. "You'll never understand him no matter how hard you try. The best advice I can offer you is to love him and be patient."
~...~
"You are such an idiot!" Renji yelled at his friend. He had finally gotten Ichigo to confess the reason for his present sulky mood which had gone on for days. His partner being more silent and grumpier than usual had worn on his last nerve, and he could not take it anymore. Then to find out Ichigo was the cause of his own problem had infuriated him.
"I just needed time to think," the irritable carrot top grumbled, staring at the house they were watching. They had gotten wind of their being another house being used for trafficking sex and drugs by Grimmjow so they were checking out the lead. So far, the plain ranch home in the modest neighborhood had remained locked and dark.
"Time to think, my ass!" the irate redhead hollered, not caring they were on a stake out. "You needed time to slink off and lick your wounded pride because she told you no."
"Hmph," Ichigo snorted in return, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles began to turn white. It was possible the goofball was right. Had he wanted a break from her simply because she had turned down his proposition to move in together? Maybe so, but he would never admit that to the angry dork on a tirade in the car with him.
"You are such an idiot," Renji repeated in a much lower voice. Shaking his head in aggravation, he decided to just shut up and do his job because nothing was getting through Ichigo's thick skull anyway. Glaring at the house across the street, he held his breath as a white and blue motorcycle pulled up and parked under the open car port.
"Well, well, look who's here," Ichigo muttered, recognizing the motorcycle. He watched as the tall muscle-bound man dressed in a leather riding suit in the same colors of the bike dismounted it. His lips pressed together in a thin line as he saw the familiar blue hair appear from beneath the white and blue helmet that was pulled off.
The two police officers watched in silence as the man walked up the sidewalk and unlocked the front door. Lights were flipped on throughout the house. Thirty minutes later, there had been no more movement from within the house and no one else had arrived either. An hour later, they were growing antsy and grouchy, unsure as to what the hell was going on. Two hours later, around eight o' clock a limousine pulled up to the curb in front of the house. Grimmjow walked out in a black tuxedo looking like a fine, upstanding gentleman.
"Where in the hell could he possibly be going?" Renji inquired as the limousine pulled away.
"Let's find out," Ichigo muttered, waiting until the limo drove through the front entrance of the subdivision to follow. He wished they had chosen a different vehicle besides the bulky silver SUV. But they had figured it would blend into the neighborhood of middle class, 'keeping up with the Joneses' types better than a flashy sports car or a beat up old clunker which had been their other options for surveillance vehicle. A van would never do because it would scream child molester in such a quaint family suburban hideaway.
With each mile that passed, Ichigo began to feel more and more ill. He recognized these streets and with mounting nausea it dawned on him where they were going: The Stardust. Tonight was the night of the charity event for the hospital.
"Dammit," he growled through clenched teeth. He had not spoken to Riko in five days, not since their conversation last Sunday. Not one phone call or even a text had been exchanged between them. At this moment, he wanted to kick his own ass. How could he have abandoned her at a time like this? He was not there to protect her now that she needed him the most. The predator in the limo ahead of them would have open access to her tonight. Neither he nor her sister would be there to keep the man in check.
Meanwhile, inside the club, Riko was busy flitting around making sure everything was ready for the event. Her old boss, Rangiku, grabbed her as she attempted to rush past the bar to check on the champagne tower.
"Riko, honey, everything will be fine," Rangiku told her, forcing her to take a seat at the bar. "Gin, will you fix her a drink? Something to calm her."
"I really don't have time. I need to - " Riko attempted to argue while sliding off of the bar stool.
"You need to sit down and relax. Everything is perfect," she assured the woman who was so nervous she was visibly shaking.
"Here. You're favorite," Gin said, sitting the glowing blue drink in the martini glass on the bar in front of Riko.
"Thank you," she mumbled gratefully, downing the drink in two gulps. She did not even taste it. Within seconds, another full glass was sitting in front of her which made her wonder if she had imagined drinking it in the first place. The sensation of her gut warming while the warmth spread throughout her body to unwind her muscles told her she had indeed drank the liquor. Gingerly sipping her current drink, she decided to take this one more slowly or by the third drink she would find herself on the floor. She had forgotten to eat today because she was so busy with preparations. The alcohol was hitting her like a sledgehammer. She scooted her butt back onto the bar stool.
"I like your new boss," Rangiku murmured, giving the handsome lanky man dressed in a white tuxedo the once over.
"I do too," Riko admitted, feeling her liquor. "But only as a boss...and maybe a friend."
"Sooooo what happened to the cop with the lovely carrot colored locks?" she inquired, watching Riko finish off the half full glass.
"I don't want to talk about him," she snapped, nodding to Gin for another. She was glad she had decided to go with an updo, piling her mass of curls on top of her head with a few brown tendrils hanging down to frame her face. Her body was burning up. Earlier she had felt half-naked in the strapless dress that barely held her breasts which dared to overflow with each breath. With her body currently being heated with nervous energy and the alcohol, she was thankful for the skimpy dress. Although the skirt was floor length, one side was split up to the very top of her thigh. A large white rose fashioned in rhinestones at the top of the slit was the only decoration on the otherwise plain black dress. Uryū had said she looked beautiful. What would Ichigo have said? Would he have told her to go change because she looked like a high dollar prostitute? Probably. She polished off her third drink to make that thought and any hope of rational thinking disappear. Oozing from the bar stool, she eventually found her footing in her five-inch heels and toddled off.
"I always did admire how that girl could be shit faced but walk like a model in high heels," Rangiku said, sipping the drink her husband handed her.
"Do you think she's happy?" he asked, watching Riko greeting the men warmly with a smile that appeared genuine to them but he knew was completely forced.
"At the moment, no," his wife replied truthfully. "But she'll figure this out. She'll find out what..." She paused watching the black-haired man as he put his arm around Riko's waist to guide her. "Or who makes her happy."
"Don't go messing where you shouldn't, dear wife," Gin warned her, knowing she had an insane need to play matchmaker at times. Why else would she have encouraged their favorite employee to quit to keep from alienating the man she had a crush on?
Riko leaned heavily on Uryū, grateful for his steady strength. She welcomed people she did not know as if they were old friends. If she had been sober, she would have a much tougher time being so insincere and accommodating to the perverse rich bastards who had come to 'buy' a date with a pretty young thing. Most of these men were married which sickened her to no end. Oh, well. It was a necessary evil to help people such as the precious little boy stuck in a hermetically sealed room to keep him from dying. A simple cold could kill him at the moment. One day, he would be able to run and play, to become a football star or scientist or husband and father - whatever he wanted to be. She was off in a different world of pleasant insincerity, schmoozing the flirtatious men to help loosen their wallets when HE walked in.
"Oh, god," Riko gasped when the blue eyes full of insatiable hunger latched onto hers. She wanted to run, but she could not. She was drunk, Uryū had gone somewhere, and she was surrounded by carnally carnivorous old farts which prevented her escape from the ultimate predator headed her way.
"Riko, my dear, how nice to see you," Grimmjow greeted her, pushing his way through the circle of men surrounding her.
Riko was not sure whether to be thankful or fearful when his arm circled her waist, his hand pressing against her hip to lead her away from the men. Her body instantly went cold when his fingers brushed the bare flesh revealed at the top of the slit. The enjoyable alcohol induced fog that had separated her from reality had lifted immediately thrusting her back into the present moment with disturbing clarity.
"Grimmjow, I would say it's nice to see you, but I'm not a big fan of lying," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"Oh, such a barbed tongue," he commented, turning her to face him. He traced her jaw with his finger, turning her head to reveal her neck to him as if he were a starving vampire. Pressing a single kiss to the skin over the vein that pulsated with her heartbeat, his lips then moved up to her ear. "What I would give to taste that tongue...to search that lovely sinful mouth of yours with my tongue...to probe deeper, harder until - "
"Stop," she gasped, pushing him away. Her body had responded in a way that shocked her to his erotic words, to the sensual teasing of the lips that tickled her ear as he spoke. She had wanted Ichigo so much and her body was still left in a hormonal mess that caused her to react to Grimmjow favorably on a strictly physical level, although he sickened her on a logical plane of reasoning.
"Has your boyfriend abandoned you?" he asked, raising her chin with his thumb and forefinger grasping it so he could look into her eyes. Within their dark mahogany depths he could see the anguish. A predatory grin split his face. "So he has. I'll be more than happy to fill that void. To help you forget by making you have so many orgasms you can't think straight."
"Bastard," Riko snarled, slapping him across the face. She watched a perfect imprint of her hand appear on his left cheek while he continued to smile at her in that insane but at the same time sexually provocative manner.
"Riko, come with me," Uryū said, taking her by the arm to pull her from the clutches of the other man. Leading her to the stage, he leaned down to ask, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Thank you for rescuing me," she whispered back.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get there quicker." He took her by the hand to assist her with navigating the few steps that led up to the stage. "Time to get this thing started."
Riko stood by his side wearing a big smile she hoped did not look as artificial as it felt. The bright lights focused on the stage prevented her from seeing anyone in the audience. Her mind fabricated the image of the men gathered around like a pack ravenous wolves, salivating with their tongues hanging out. This mental picture nearly made her giggle it was so incredibly preposterous yet fitting at the same time. Lowering her head to stare at her toenails painted a wine color, she fought the urge to laugh. These men were no different from any of the others she had provided companionship for when she worked here. With that sobering thought, she raised her head and fabricated a slightly more sincere smile.
Ichigo walked into the club feeling extraordinarily out of place. He had the distinct impression he had crashed the party when several men in tuxedos turned and glared at him with a haughty lift of their noses.
"Ichigo, I'm glad you could make it," Rangiku called, rushing to his side. She slipped her arm through his which made the men turn their attention back to the people on stage. "What are you doing here? And dressed like that? What are you thinking?"
Ichigo self-consciously looked down at the jeans, t-shirt, and black leather jacket he was wearing. He and Renji both were dressed in plain clothes since they were on a surveillance assignment. Glancing at Renji, he was envious of how the redhead seemed completely oblivious or simply did not care at all that they stood out in stark contrast to the men in formal attire in their casual dress. He seized the collar of the man's brown suede jacket to pull him along as the busty blonde dragged him to the bar.
"I was only thinking of protecting Riko," he answered, refusing the drink offered to him. "I'm on duty."
"Then you have double the reason to drink this," Gin returned, leaving the drink on the bar.
Ichigo saw her on stage standing next to Uryū. For what seemed like minutes, he could not breathe. Riko looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. His eyes travelled over her body illuminated in the blinding spotlights to give her a thorough visual inspection. Jealousy rose within him so fiercely his biceps contracted and his fingers curled into fists. When Uryū slipped his arm around her waist to pull her forward, he was sure his head would explode.
"You're the one who let her go remember? To take a break?" Renji reminded him unnecessarily.
"I know," Ichigo ground out angrily between his teeth. His eyes that were narrowed to mere slits with fury slid over to glare at his partner. "I want to hit someone. Say one more thing and it will be you."
Renji raised his hands with the palms up in a gesture of surrender. He would not say another word. Searching the many faces, he finally found the one he was looking for. Elbowing his partner and risking bodily injury, he pointed to Grimmjow who was standing at the front of the stage.
"Son of a bitch," Ichigo growled, moving forward. His progress was halted by arms linking through his on both sides. His head swung side to side to see Renji holding him on one side and Rangiku on the other. He felt another strong hand pulling backwards on the collar of his jacket.
"Don't do anything stupid," Gin warned him, tugging the man backwards to sit him down on a bar stool. "You're on duty. You said it yourself. So be professional and set your emotions aside."
Ichigo turned to glare at the silver-haired man who simply grinned at him with all of the confidence and self-possession in the world. It irritated him immensely because that sounded like something Chief Muguruma would say to him. He found it excruciatingly unnerving that the man was correct. He would have to suck it up and deal. Forcing himself into cop mode, he put aside his humanity to be picked up at a later time. With cold calculation, he glowered at the blue haired man staring up at Riko. He would wait for Grimmjow to make a mistake, then pounce on him.
Riko would be the person introducing each girl as they came out on stage. She found it quite disturbing that the women had chosen to dress in ways that catered to fetishistic tendencies in some men. However, she also knew it would make the competition more fierce, upping the bids exponentially. Wow...she really did feel like a prostitute at this point or rather a pimp. Seeing the first girl skip out on stage dressed like a four-year old in yards of pink ruffles, shiny black mary janes, and curls in her blond hair she rolled her eyes. The woman had completed the little girl ensemble with a big round rainbow-colored lollipop she held in her hand. Indulging in one last eye roll, she took a deep breath and began speaking.
"Here we have Lolita. Isn't she a vision of sweetness and innocence, gentleman?" she asked, wincing visibly at the cat calls and yells that ensued. "How much will you bid for this pretty little girl?"
And so it began. The meat market was open and boy it was going to a rough one. Lolita went for eight thousand dollars to the owner of a popular chain of manga stores. Bidding became increasingly vehement as each lovely lady came out on stage. The police officer, the firefighter, the librarian, and the secretary all ended at seven thousand a piece. When the dominatrix holding the whip appeared on stage, the evening nearly erupted into violence. Her winning bid was nineteen thousand five hundred dollars. Cash was flowing just as freely as the champagne from the tower of flutes that was swiftly disappearing. The schoolgirl went to the head of a corporation for fifteen thousand; her teacher priced out at eighteen to the FOO (Financial Operations Officer) of the power company. The date auction came to a close with the last girl, a geisha, going for twenty-five thousand to Grimmjow.
Riko would have to admit she enjoyed the expression of disappointment on the man's face when he handed her his credit card and took the hand the girl who would be his companion for the evening. She handed over the card to Uryū who placed it in the stack with the others. He would take them to Rangiku who would open tabs for each individual, adding on all of their alcohol purchases. Only the champagne had been complimentary, and it was all gone.
"I am going to the back for a minute," she told Uryū. She hurried to take refuge in the break room that was fully stocked with coffee, tea, and snacks as always. After pouring herself a cup of tea into one of the dainty china cups, she carefully sat it on a saucer to take it to the couch where she chose to sit. Sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, she kicked off her shoes while taking a hearty sip of the tea. Strawberry. Her favorite. Strawberry...dammit. She tried to push away the thoughts of Ichigo, but it was too late. Her mind formed a picture of him in great detail, complete with one of his endearing but rare smiles. She set the tea cup on the table, leaning back on the couch. Closing her eyes did not help clear her mind. Instead, it only made the mental photographs of him come into better focus. She felt like crying, but she was tired. So tired she did not feel capable of putting forth the physical or emotional energy necessary for crying. She had not slept much all week, occupying herself with preparing for tonight along with checking in on Isamu daily. Until now, she had not allowed a single thought of Ichigo to cross her mind. Permitting herself to fall into an exhausted and dreamless sleep, she escaped from thinking about him again.
