Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Dammit.

Rangiku. Matsumoto Rangiku. It hasn't been long since she burst onto the scene, breasts heaving in the way she likes them to because she knows they get the job done for her. Although actually, even without the breasts she would still be frighteningly capable of bending anything with a penis (with the possible exception of her captain but hey, he's still young) to her will.

Which is how it starts. Not even innocently, because that word does not exist anywhere in a three-mile vicinity of Rangiku. "Truth or dare, Yumi."

The Pretty One twitters. "Dare," he says. Shocking, thinks Ichigo.

Rangiku's lip twitches. "Close your eyes." when he silently obeys, she stands, produces a permanent marker from somewhere on her person, steps up to him and does her worst.

"Matsumoto-san--" Yumi starts.

"Shush. I'm almost done." When she moves away from him, everyone gasps.

Yumi opens his eyes. "What is it?"

Everyone is staring with their mouths hanging. "That's only part of it," Rangiku says sternly. "You cannot wash it off, and you cannot look in a mirror for one hour."

Yumi stares at her in horror. "What does it say?"

"I'm not telling you. No one else tell him either," she says evilly, settling back on her haunches. And of course no one would dare. Yumi's face goes from red to a weird greenish tinge.

But she's done with him. Ichigo cringes as she looks about for her next victim. If he tries to leave now, he risks he contempt of the manly redhead, who is man enough to handle it. If he stays, he's likely to suffer worse than the unfortunate Yumichika, who has to walk home with the word "TEASE" etched on his forehead. His heart skips a beat when she turns her focus to the manly redhead in question. "Renji! Truth or dare."

"I don't want to play anymore," says the manly redhead.

"Too late. Truth or dare," she demands.

"Okay. . . truth."

Matsumoto smirks. "Is it true that your first kiss was. . ." she pauses as everyone -Ichigo, Inoue, and Yumi, who was still green at the gills-- turn to stare at Rukia, who blinks, shocked.

". . . Madrame!"

You could hear the whiplash. Renji seems to be shrinking. But the the bald head is now as red as his hair.

"Hey! That so does not count!" Ikkaku is clearly freaking out.

"Ikkaku?" Rukia is clearly mortified. "All this talk about it being special and you end up playing tonsil hockey with him?"

"I swear I didn't kiss him back. . ."

"It's not my fault he's a hot chick when I'm drunk," mutters Ikkaku.

But Matsumoto has already seized on something. Rukia cringes when the sharp gray eyes fall on her. "Are you telling me you and he never. . ."

Now he's interested. Ichigo listens intently.

"Never," Renji and Rukia sigh in unison.

"What kind freak lives in close quarters with a girl and never tries anything?" demands Ikkaku.

"Well. . .we did talk a little about it," Rukia says.

"Back then she was all romantic and stuff so I wanted it to be just right when it happened," Renji adds. "It just never happened."

Neither of them will answer when asked if they wanted it to happen.

"Oh jeez," Matsumoto says, exasperated. "What's there to it? It's not like it's an exact science or anything. Watch."

When she grabs Ichigo all he can do is freeze. "You just look into their eyes"-- she edges close enough that the Tits That Ate Tokyo are grazing his chest-- "open your mouth"-- her own lips are slightly parted--"and--" She looks at him. Hard. His eyes are wide and he can swear the bottoms of his feet are sweating hand grenades. "Good God, another one," she snorts and pushes away from him. "Look guys, this has been fun, but I can hardly get my jollies with a bunch of girls and a couple guys that are terrified of women."

They sit in shocked silence for several moments after she leaves.

Renji stares at his knuckles. Inoue, clearly confused, rises and goes after her. Yumi's wrist is inching to his forehead. Ichigo looks at Rukia. "No," she says, blushing.

"Hey! Who the fuck was she calling a girl?" shrieks Ikkaku.