Hirako's words rung in my mind after Unohana left. I didn't want to go and check on him, but I didn't want him to leave with doubts and anger assailing his mind. I wasn't exactly sentimental, but if he was stewing he would be less efficient in carrying out his tasks.

I sighed. At least my wounds had been healed enough for whatever I had planned.

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I pushed the sliding door open further, since it had been left ajar. A mess of bottles and discarded clothes greeted my entrance and I frowned in disapproval. Cleanliness might not be next to godliness in my book, but it was always good to be neat.

Picking my way through the disarray after locking the door, I found myself in his bedroom. Gin was sprawled over his bed, a bottle in his right fist. He had shed his kimono, but left his hakama and kosode on, as well as his sandals and socks.

Exhaling heavily I carried him and lay him out properly. Then I sat beside him and untied his footwear. He stirred, but I went on pulling off his socks as he struggled upright.

"Aizen-sama?"

I turned in his direction but not to look into his eyes. Pushing him down again, I removed his kosode and hakama. Then I piled all the garments in a corner, and picked up the scattered bottles around the room. He had drunk a lot.

He was half-sitting in bed, propped against his pillows. I went to his kitchen and prepared a basin of warm water and a towel, and briefly I leaned my forehead against the wall.

You make it so hard for me to do this the way I meant to.

When I returned to the bedroom he was curled in a fetal position. I pulled firmly on his shoulder and uncurled his arms and legs, straightening his limbs. He didn't fight my ministrations as I washed his face with the warm, wet towel, then cleaning his body with the same careful strokes.

When I was done I took the basin and put it on a table in the room. He watched intently as I sighed and prepared to leave, then blurted, "Don't leave. Please."

I paused at the door.

He struggled out of bed. "Don't go. Please, stay. Even for one night, even if it's just a dream I'm having because of the liquor... and anguish... and, and – I don't know – the, the – the despair. Don't leave."

I half-turned, not knowing what to decide.

"Say something, say anything," he begged. My mouth remained closed; there was nothing I wished to say. There was nothing I could say. He grasped my coat and yanked me to face him. "Then... then say nothing. Just don't go."

I closed my eyes, then gazed at his pale and frantic face. Gin was pleading with every glance, and I felt his shaking hands tighten on my kimono. With a slow smile I took his hand and kissed the knuckles, and then I began removing my glasses and haori.

He staggered backwards, colliding with his bed, sitting down heavily. I disrobed before him, feeling oddly vulnerable despite having done this many, many times before. As I moved towards him his hands shook. "This is a dream, this is a dream..." he muttered under his breath. "This is a dream."

I tilted his face up by his chin and kissed him as I sank to my knees on the mattress. His arms draped over my shoulders, slid under my arms and abruptly, locked about my waist. There was a stale, sour aftertaste in his mouth, but it was still Gin; he responded hungrily as my tongue delved into each warm corner of his mouth, stroked his hard palate, twined with his tongue.

His fingers scraped over my back, along the line of my spine. I sucked on his earlobe as he gasped with my insistent caresses along his hips. My fingers locked about his wrist when I pushed away from him to better position myself. He whimpered; his hips bucked against me when I took the time to examine his body again; to remember how he glowed under moonlight, how the pink flush began near his heart and suffuse his skin; to memorize this moment, from the smell of spilled sake somewhere in the room, the glisten of sweat on his chest, the tantalizing contrast of his hardened nipples on his skin, the sound of his nonsensical utterances as I rocked against his member, the pressure of his heels on my lower back...

This is going to haunt me for a long, long time.

I pushed into him and he arched his back in a silent plea. I removed myself and reentered, this time harder and faster. He welcomed it, his arms trying to break free of the grip my hands had on his wrists.

I kissed him again, a hard kiss intended to still him, but instead provoked an almost-furious writhing. I had intended to be tender, but now I pounded savagely into him, my lust inflamed by his passion.

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His weight was a welcome cover for my body, and I luxuriated in his fading heat. Very reluctantly he shifted to my right,but burrowed his face into my neck.

"This is a dream, right?" he asked. He sounded lost, bewildered. I picked some stray hairs from my mouth and smoothed down his mussed hair. "It has to be a dream because you hate me and are sending me away from you."

I moved to face him. He gazed at me and reached for my eyes, touching my brows and my eyelids. I blinked lazily as his fingers traced my cheekbones and then to my mouth. I captured his finger between my teeth, then bit down. He gasped with the pain and instinctively pulled his finger from my mouth. His eyes were tearing.

I spoke for the first time that night. "So is this a dream?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Gin stared uncomprehendingly. Then I was assaulted by a bolt of silver-white lightning, by lips and teeth and arms, and I fended him off with a short laugh. He buried himself against my chest and I embraced him.

His voice muffled, Gin asked, "You're not angry?"

"I was, but not for long," I admitted. "You meant well, after all. I flared up because you brought up some bad associations."

He knew who I was referring to, and wisely did not voice the name. Instead he asked, "Why are you suddenly sending me so far away for so long?"

I sighed and pressed my lips to his brow. "It's not sudden, Gin. I had planned this for five months. We send shinigami on foreign assignments, and they send theirs to us. It's a goodwill gesture. I had to juggle... never mind, all boring details."

He demanded to know why he was not informed before today.

"Because you would then find all sorts of ways to persuade me otherwise," I half-scolded. "I'm sending you not because I want to, Gin, but because I have to. Tousen can't leave, nor can I. It has to be you."

He pouted. I tapped his nose. "You have many qualities I lack, love. You're far more attuned to people, and you can discern their true nature almost from first contact."

"So you want me to figure out the reasons for expansion?"

"I need you to examine the leaders, find their strengths and weaknesses." I brushed silver hair from his face. "I want you here with me."

He snuggled closer. "Ten years," he murmured. "That's too long."

"Ten years," I echoed. "But we are shinigami. We can make it, love. Your qualities will see you succeed where Tousen and I will fail."

"There's that word again," he noted.

"Qualities?" I said, frowning.

"Love. You called me 'love', twice. Thrice." He nudged my chin and looked up at me. "Am I? Really?"

I exhaled with a smile, then kissed his waiting lips. "Don't get too used to it. I won't be saying it again, and definitely not in public."

"As long as you have said it, that's enough." He sighed contentedly. "And tomorrow I have to leave."

"Tomorrow is here, Gin. It's been here for hours."

"How long before we have to go?"

"Hours."

"There's not enough time," he protested weakly. He cuddled into my arms, trying to stave off the inevitable.

I shut my eyes and tucked his lithe form against my muscular one, dreading the moment of separation, knowing it had to be done.

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We were there forty minutes before they had to sign in to depart. There were about fifteen who were assigned to foreign societies for offshore, and the lower seats of the twelfth division were trying to calibrate the locations accurately. Most shinigami were there to welcome those returning from long postings.

"Ono, Ichimaru, be careful out there," I addressed the two who were posted to France and Germany respectively. "Ono, your reporting officer is uh, Capitaine Jean-Pierre Javert. He's fair, but strict. He'll be giving me a report of you every two months for the three years you are there, and if I get good reports your rank will raise accordingly."

She grinned, her round glasses twinkling with the last rays of the evening light. I patted her shoulder as she hefted her bag and followed Akagi to finish the paperwork.

Gin stood three paces behind me. I could feel his reiatsu, reined in and subdued. I didn't turn around.

If I did, he would not be leaving.

"Ichimaru, your reporting officer is Kapitän Wolfric Hartmann. He's in charge of the penitentiary process in Fegefeuer."I took a deep breath. "Ten years, Ichimaru. I expect you to keep your original task in mind, and to remember what I taught you."

"Yes, taichou," he said.

I led the way to the queue. Akagi had finished signing Ono in, and I nodded for Gin to go next. Nearby I felt two pairs of eyes fixed on my passage. As casually as I could I swiveled around and caught sight of strawberry blond hair and white hair.

Ukitake inclined his head in greeting. "Aizen-san."

Matsumoto mumbled an excuse and faded into the milling crowd. She brushed by Gin instead.I saw the flash of hurt across Gin's face when she snubbed him.

Ten years should be long enough.

Ukitake waited patiently for my attention to return to him. "I see you're sending two, like Soi Fon is."

"They can use the exposure." I smiled. "Ono will be a very capable lieutenant in the future."

"What about Ichimaru?" he asked bluntly. "What role is he going to play?"

I shrugged. "He's volatile. I'm hoping the regimented life in Fegefeuer will trim off his corners, shape him up."

Gin was done with the paperwork. I bowed slightly to Ukitake – the man was older than me after all – and returned to my lieutenant and the two waiting shinigami.

"Alright, Ono, be careful out in France. Keep far, far away from the wines so the others keep far, far away from you." She grinned again and I saw Akagi blush.

So you're his. Interesting.

"Ichimaru," I said, looking at the tip of his left ear. "I think I've briefed you fully. Any questions?"

"No taichou."

"Good." With a chuckle at Akagi I motioned for Gin to follow me. "Let's give them a little privacy."

Somewhere in the crowd he maneuvered to my side. Our fingers brushed against each other and my heart ached.

Gin was right. There was not enough time.

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"There's not enough time," he said, almost desperately.

I pressed my mouth to his cheek. "Shhh.. Gin, there is always time. We will have the rest of all time."

"I don't want to go." Gin tried to smile but was failing.

"You know you have to," I chided, but there was no rebuke in my voice. My arms tightened about his waist and held him closer.

He clung to me, the brilliance of his blue-green eyes dimmed. "There's not enough time," he repeated, his voice merely a whisper like the sigh of a breeze.

I inhaled the fragrance of his hair, of his skin, then forced myself to let go of Gin. "There will be time. Come. We have to meet Akagi and Ono to sign in before you leave."

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