Just so you know, I'm going to be driving to the Grand Canyon and northern New Mexico next week so I may be out of cellphone coverage in the middle of nowhere so I'm going to do my best to post, but I make no promises. Just know I haven't forgotten or wandered off to some other project. I will be back to posting as usual as soon as I get home.

This one's a little longer as an apology so enjoy:)

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Rangiku woke up to the sound of a baby wailing. Her head was pounding, and she was fairly sure if she moved she was going to throw up all over everything. Why, oh, why, had she and Ikkaku decided those last two bottles had to be drunk?

With a moan of sheer misery she rolled onto her side and tugged at her kimono, helping the starving baby to her breakfast. As Yuki traded her cries for slurps Rangiku's eyes fell closed once more. Just maybe she could get in another twenty minutes before the baby had to be burped and changed.

That's when she heard the door get yanked open. "Mommy!" Kinta's high-pitched voice exclaimed, "You missed breakfast! Nii-chan made it for me, but I saved some for you!"

The combined scents of grilled fish and natto hit Rangiku's nostrils, and it took everything she had not to vomit all over Yuki and the futon and herself. "That was so, so sweet of you, Kin-chan," she said through gritted teeth. "How about you put it on the table for Mommy and tell Nii-chan Mommy needs some morning medicine?"

"Ok, Mommy," Kin-chan agreed, and he quickly vanished with the offending smells.

A few seconds later another, slightly lower and a great deal softer, voice addressed her. "Just so you know, you look like shit."

Rangiku opened her eyes slowly to look up at her oldest son. She expected to see the usual resigned disappointment in his gaze. He was kneeling in front of her and holding out the hangover cure Unohana always provided, but instead of disappointed, he looked very like he had a week ago, when he had been spending most of both his days and nights by his comatose father's side, exhausted and like he was trying very hard to hide his fear.

Rangiku took the bottle without a word and took a drink. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear what had happened now. She needed a minute to think. "I don't care if you are a captain, Shiro-chan," she said, as she looked down at Yuki and brushed her hand over the girl's feather-soft, white hair. "I don't want to hear you talking like that. It's a bad example to Kin-chan. I expect better from you."

"Mom," he said, softly, and Rangiku could hear it in his voice; he was afraid.

She drew a deep breath, silently thanking Unohana for her brilliant hangover cure. The headache and nausea had vanished like they'd never been. "Where's your daddy?" she asked, feeling almost sick with fear herself at his possible answer.

"He's gone in to work," Toshiro answered. "After you feed Yuki you should go talk to him. I'll pack you a bento for breakfast, and don't worry, I can watch the kids as long as you need."

Rangiku released the vial as Toshiro pulled it from her hand and watched in confusion as her son stood and turned back toward the door.

"Shiro-chan, what's wrong?" she said, unable to let it go.

He looked back, frowning. "I--I'm not--" his eyes left hers. She'd seen Toshiro worried before, she'd even seen him afraid, but the uncertainty she saw now was something she'd never expected. Toshiro and uncertainty just didn't fit. Even when he didn't know something he always knew what he needed to do to find it out. He didn't just not know; that wasn't Toshiro.

"Dad killed some people last night," he said finally. "Don't worry, they were the ones who attacked us. It wasn't Dad's fault or anything. He didn't do anything wrong, but--I mean, he's annoyed the Four Families, but they don't have any ground to stand on so don't worry about that. It's just--I think, if I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have killed anyone. They, really stupidly, used fire to target me. Like I can't handle an ordinary fire. I mean, I don't like it, but who does like being set on fire? But Dad, he—he actually lost it. It was just for a second, but he completely—I've never seen him get angry before. I've seen people push him; I've even tried to push him. He doesn't get mad, and he never loses control, but last night he—he drew Shinso, and he killed every one of those men in less than a second. If anyone else had been around they would have died too; he wouldn't have waited for an explanation. And the expression on his face, he was furious, and he wasn't even trying to hide it. He didn't care about anything but killing them."

Rangiku stared at Toshiro. She understood his fear, his uncertainty. That wasn't Gin, reacting at all, much less with anger, and losing control, even for a second, it had never happened. She had no idea what to do, but seeing Toshiro's fear, she realized this was one of those times he needed her to be the grown-up. His father had frightened him, and he had absolutely no idea what to do. He needed her to take care of this one.

"The feelings have always been there, Shiro-chan," she said slowly. "I think Daddy's just not trying as hard to hide them now that Aizen's gone. I'll talk to him, but I don't think you need to worry. There's a big difference between a captain striking back with deadly force when someone he loves is threatened and a captain actually losing control. The district wasn't leveled, was it?"

Toshiro drew a deep breath. He looked like he was considering what she had said. "Maybe," he said, finally. "But we may just be lucky that Shinso is a strictly duel-type zanpakuto; he couldn't level the city with it if he wanted to."

Rangiku thought about that as she watched Toshiro leave. Even she didn't know Gin's bankai. As far as she had known only Aizen had seen it since Gin had gone to the trouble to make captain through vote rather that testing, but Toshiro's statement certainly implied he knew what Shinso was capable of. She had always worried at the way Gin had kept Toshiro at a distance, but if he had shared his bankai, maybe they were closer than she thought.

Gin had done everything he could for Toshiro, from the very moment he was born; she knew that now, thanks to Miyako's drunken explanation of the limiter that had once held back Toshiro's reiatsu. He could have left it at that; Toshiro'd been safe then, but instead Gin had trained him. Toshiro'd hated it, and complained constantly about the time he'd been forced to spend with his father, but it had changed slowly. Now, she was pretty sure Toshiro no longer resented the time he had been forced to train; looking back he might even appreciate it, and maybe it was a bond between them. Neither were good at emotional bonding, but maybe this was just as good.

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Rangiku stood in the doorway of the Third Division Head Offices. She was surprised to see an unusually miserable looking Kira hunched over a monstrous pile of paperwork as he rubbed his forehead. More piles of paperwork hiding his entire desktop made it clear he wasn't going anywhere soon. The really surprising thing was she could have sworn his desk was empty the morning before.

"Oh, God," she groaned. "He's delegated all his work again, hasn't he?"

Kira raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot and circled with almost black shadows. He looked seriously hung-over. "Next time you have a party, Rangiku-san," he said, very softly, "Could you please make sure the Captain doesn't drink? I don't mind helping him get caught up, but some of this isn't due for weeks, and none of it's secret, but he won't let me take it with me to work on at the Fourth. Even though he promised he would let me let me keep watch over Hinamori."

Rangiku smiled. "He has a hangover, doesn't he?"

"Last time I opened the door to have him stamp something he threatened to skewer me for letting in some light."

Rangiku's smile grew. "I'll take care of him, Kira. Don't worry. Just make sure no one bothers us for an hour, and you can go look after Momo-chan. You won't even have to worry about the paperwork."

Kira's head dropped, but Rangiku could still see the blush coloring his cheeks. She really loved that about him, about all the young lieutenants, really. They were so adorably easy to embarrass. "Rangiku-san, I don't--I don't think the Captain's really in the mood for anything like that," he said awkwardly.

"Kira," Rangiku answered, shaking her head. "The Captain is always in the mood."

And with that she pulled open the door and stepped into the dim Captain's Office.

"Kira," Gin said, "Don't think I won't murder you. I'm sure I can find another reasonably talented, extremely conscientious lieutenant with no sense of self worth somewhere."

He was draped miserably across the couch much like Rangiku herself did on occasion, with a pillow over his head.

"I don't know, Gin," she answered as she pulled the door closed behind her and locked it. "That sounds like a pretty unusual combination."

"What do you want, Rangiku? Are you here to mock my misery?"

"It is tempting," she answered as she crossed the room. "You've mocked mine often enough. It's about time you found out what it felt like."

She knelt down on the floor beside his head and gently pulled away the pillow. "Poor baby," she said, softly. "You really feel awful, don't you?"

Gin's arm replaced the pillow, blocking what little light there was from his eyes. "I can't believe you people do this to yourselves on purpose," he moaned. "I think I preferred being cut in half."

"You're the one who decided to try drinking with Captain Kyoraku. Even I know better than that. Captain Kyoraku could drink every bottle of sake in Seireitei with no ill effects."

"I didn't decide to—your friends Pachinko-head and Yu-yu volunteered me. I've been thinking all morning about ways to get back at them."

"So what did Kira do? How did he earn first victim status?" Rangiku asked.

"He told Third Seat Miyamoto to talk quietly because I have a hangover," Gin answered.

"What's wrong with that?" Rangiku wanted to know.

"One minute they're being quiet because my head is killing me, the next they start thinking I have feelings, like a person or something; it's a slippery slope. Honestly, it's Aizen's fault for sticking me in the Fourth for a week, but I can't make him do paperwork--oh, how I envy old Captain Hirako; making Aizen do paperwork must have been one of the great joys of his life."

Rangiku almost laughed, but she hadn't quite missed what Gin had tried to hide behind his joking. "What's wrong with people knowing you have feelings? You don't have to play a part anymore. You can be you now."

Gin was silent for a moment. "Ran, my head really does hurt so unless you know a healing kido for hangovers--"

Rangiku pulled out the vial she had brought from her medicine cabinet. "I have Unohana's miracle cure."

Gin lifted his arm and narrow blue-green eyes stared at her suspiciously. "I thought you were never to share that with anyone because Unohana's of the opinion that people who drink themselves sick get what they deserve."

"And I only get a pass because a mom who's a functioning alcoholic is better than a non-functional one--pretty much, but I don't think you're going to make a habit of this. I don't think even Unohana could object to getting falling down drunk once every seventy or so years," she said as she handed over the bottle. "Send her division a really nice gift for New Year's or something as a thank you."

Gin took a sip and the deep lines between his brows relaxed almost instantly. "What do you think would be a really nice gift? I'm not giving back Kira, not when I've finally made him really useful, and I haven't got any other decent kido users at the moment. Maybe I could give her Takeda; he's so pretty none of the women seem to care that he's completely useless."

"Takeda's useless?" Rangiku said in surprise. Even she had noticed the shinigami universally considered the most attractive in the Third and knew there was a rumor going around that the only reason he couldn't move up in the division was that Gin felt threatened by him, a rumor that always made Rangiku want to giggle. Rangiku shook her head; it really wasn't important at the moment. "I didn't mean you should give her a person! I just meant a nice gift basket from The World of the Living or something. You're usually very good at those."

"Oh," Gin answered, frowning slightly. "That's not nearly as much fun--speaking of which, what have you done with the children? It's one thing to dump all the paperwork on Kira but both Kin-chan and Yukiko is just cruel."

Rangiku smiled. "Shiro-chan volunteered to watch them, for as long as we needed."

Gin grinned in answer, his largest, most fox-like grin. "That long?"

"Yep."

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Toshiro cringed at the sound of mud hitting the leaves of a delicate, twisted maple that grew near what had once been the garden pond. He had tried objecting to allowing Kinta to destroy the garden, but he sort of got that his mom had her hands full. It was less than two weeks ago that his father had nearly died, and she'd learned he'd played the part of a double traitor that could have gotten him executed as easily as it had nearly gotten him killed. Add to that being basically imprisoned in the Third, meeting an Arrancar and watching her dearest friends being emotionally and physically shredded all around her by Aizen's various plots, and when he thought about it, she really wasn't doing all that bad with dealing with his colicky baby sister and hyperactive brother.

Kinta had yet to hurt himself or anyone else, and Yuki--Toshiro met the five-week-old's eyes with a suspicious gaze that she returned.

"You don't have to doubt me," he told her, feeling stupid for talking to a baby. She obviously couldn't understand him, but her didn't appreciate that look. "You can always trust me. No matter what. I'm your Nii-san. I will always look out for you."

She didn't look impressed.

"I know. It's what everybody says, but I mean it. I'll never let anyone hurt you," he frowned at her continued skeptical gaze. How did a baby even manage a look like that? "Just do me a favor and don't grow up to be an evil version of Mom."

He'd heard Yumichika telling his mother last night that that was probably what Yuki would grow up to be, as beautiful and attractive to the opposite gender as Rangiku, and as coldly calculating as Gin. Toshiro couldn't think of a worse combination. "You know, just because we look like him they expect us to end up like him. We've got to stick together, prove them wrong, show them we can be just as good as any dumb blond."

The baby just stared back at him, reminding Toshiro that Kinta wasn't the only one being stupid at the moment.

He sighed and looked over at his little brother. The boy had completed the moat or canal or whatever it was he had decided to call the disaster that linked the little garden stream to the pond, although the koi seemed uninterested in escape, and he was now standing in a muddy mess, expanding it toward a pretty bed of lilies.

"Hey, Kin-chan," Toshiro said. "Why don't you pick all those flowers for Mom before you dig them all up?"

Kinta raised his head and looked over at his big brother. "What flowers?"

Then he looked in the direction Toshiro was pointing. He had very obviously not noticed the lilies until that moment, despite the fact that each flower was nearly the size of his head. "Mommy would like those wouldn't she?" he said. " 'Cause they're pink."

"Yeah," Toshiro agreed, already wondering how old Kinta would have to be before he could force him to replant every last flower and bulb and shrub the child had murdered in the past couple of weeks. "Then you can put them in a vase on the table."

"Ok," Kinta agreed and began ripping the flowers out of the ground as quickly as he could manage. The weirdest thing about it, to Toshiro at least, was that the kid didn't seem to mean to be violent or aggressive about it. He was talking quite happily about how pretty the flowers were and how much their mom was going to like them. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was being absolutely brutal to the poor plants.

When he finally came to the porch with his hands full of the mistreated blooms he was grinning from ear to ear. "Mommy's going to love them, isn't she, Niichan?"

Toshiro looked over the flowers. Most of the stems were broken and many petals were missing, and some had been ripped out of the ground with leaves and bulbs still attached, but they were still beautiful flowers, and knowing his mother, "Yeah, Kin-chan, she'll love them. You want me to get you a vase?"

Kinta's eyes widened in something almost like horror. "You'd wake up Yuki!" he said, breathlessly. "I can get it myself."

He hopped up onto the porch and vanished inside, and Toshiro looked down at the baby. She had fallen asleep, leaning against his chest. That was a first. The little monster was almost impossible to get to sleep. He'd watched his mom and others pace back and forth coaxing the baby to sleep and heard the wailing she seemed to think necessary to proceed every nap.

"Just so you know," he told her softly. "I'm not going to volunteer to watch you again even if you do behave for me."