Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. In fact, I'm dirt poor and sing for my supper. Which explains my diet of tootsie rolls and dandelions.
A/N: Yes, the first chapter was terribly slow. But there is method to my madness. The voices in my head have assured me.
"Do you remember the next day?" she asks, tracing invisible characters onto the tabletop with her finger. "I'll be you thought you'd never lay eyes on us again after that."
"No," he says, "I knew you'd turn up. Both of you. What drove me nuts was which of you would turn up first." He sips his drink and smiles at her slyly. "You had it all planned, didn't you? Both of you."
"I'll never tell you our secrets," she grins back.
Tomorrow only turned out to be seven hours away. Apparently, they'd been spotted by one of Shunsui's spies. Juushirou was shocked to find his friend camped out in the open space of his office, sipping sake and tossing teasing words out to the already crimson Kiyone. "So," Kyouraku said, one eyebrow arching mischievously, "you met up with our new twelfth and got the added bonus of the mysterious and lovely commander of the Keigun Brigade. And just why wasn't I invited?" Kiyone bowed silently and made good her escape.
Ukitake rubbed his head. "Sorry. It was a little spur-of-the-moment. I never thought of it."
"My, my." Shunsui scratched his head. "Perhaps you were uninterested in sharing." Juushirou gave him a look. "Fine, then. So what were they like?"
"Feral." The word was on his lips before he really even thought of it. But it was correct. "They're both quite brilliant. You'd like them."
"Are they. . ."
"I can't really tell. They're close, but I couldn't tell you if they're involved." That was half a lie. They were definitely involved. But was it the sort of involvement that led to sex? And if it wasn't, who the hell pinched him? He shook his head of the question. It seemed absurd in the daylight and he didn't want Shunsui to guess. But then Kiyone had returned with a cup of tea for him, and he settled into his breakfast before his imagination could run away with him.
Of course Shunsui fired more questions at him, and he answered most of them as tersely as he could. But when the questions edged more and more towards the physical attributes of the Keigun commander, Ukitake decided his best course of action was to change the subject. Bored and disappointed, the Eighth Division Captain finished his sake and wandered off into the bright spring morning. This was the first time in months Juushirou had been glad to see the back of him. He could not share the experience with him as he had so many others. Firstly, because he had no idea what had happened, but something clearly had. Their free and easy way with him was like an open invitation for him and him alone to come and be a spectator—if not a participant—in their strange and wild existence. As he gazed down at he mounting pile of paperwork and his underlings came and went, their distance chaffed him. It was the deference he was owed. He never knew he had been so lonely before. Shunsui's lazy but comforting presence had always been plenty for him.
Secondly, the participation he sensed they wanted from him would probably be more than he could handle. Yes, he was still as weak as he'd been the day he entered the academy. Perhaps weaker. But he had always overcome it when needed. If he took up with those two, he would need to all the damn time.
But there was something else. He didn't want to admit it, but something abut Shunsui's comment about not being inclined to share irked him. He didn't know either of them well enough to stake such a claim, but it was true. He knew his reserve. He was more of a listener than a talker. If he brought Shunsui, the laughing man, the insolent joker, the life of the party, in on it now. . .
He shook his head. Didn't he just think to himself he had no claim on them? "You can't loose what isn't yours," he muttered to himself.
And then there was a scraping at the door. He barely heard it, had to listen closely to identify it. When he moved and slid the door open, he noted the lack of wind. Then what was that? He looked down. A black cat perched on his porch, looking around itself before finally gazing up at him with imperious amber eyes. He moved to shoo it away when it limped inside, looked around blearily, and collapsed. Though he liked animals as much as the next person, he never had paid much attention to cats. But to see it laying on his floor, obviously in pain, touched him. "Poor thing," he said to it, kneeling. "Did you get yourself in a scrape?" It mewed a tiny bit, and winced when he took a closer look at the front paw it had favored. It was bleeding a little. The fact that he knew exactly what to do didn't shock him until years later. "Kiyone," Juushirou called out. "Could you bring me a little milk? And send Sentaro for Urahara Kisuke? I think I need a little help."
Urahara took his time, and when he finally arrived, Juushirou knew why. His cool gray eyes had shadows beneath them and his pale yellow hair looked like something with wings had roosted in it. He didn't bother to apologize but instead crouched close to the feline guest. "Well well, what a handsome kitty you are," he crooned at the cat.
Juushirou could swear the cat was looking daggers at him. If Kisuke noticed, he did not make an issue of it. Instead he gently examined the wounded paw. "Looks like a bite. I'll need to clean it out," he said. "I need a warm towel and some rags." when Kiyone returned with the necessary tools, they all stood and watched as he gently rubbed the wound, put a salve on it, and wrapped it. "Is he yours?" he asked Ukitake.
"No, I've never seen it before."
"Well I can take him with me if you like. He's not going to be able to move around properly for a day or so."
"No, that's okay. I'll keep it—er—him here for little while. Thank you for coming," Ukitake said. "Can I offer you some tea?" he looked at Kiyone and Sentaro. Both bowed and left.
Kisuke smiled. "So you know my little secret," he laughed. "Yoruichi was warning me last night I was at my limit. Never could handle alcohol as well as she can."
"Your secret is safe with me," Ukitake smiled back. "Please, sit."
As they settled into the afternoon tea, the cat seemed restless and made his presence known by limping as imperiously as he could up to and settling, limbs tucked under his body, next to Juushirou.
"For a cat you've never seen before, he sure seems to know you," Kisuke commented.
"I know," Ukitake said, hazarding to scratch him between the ears. "Strange."
"You'd better name him. Even if he decides not to stay after he gets better, at least you can call him friend."
"It's only a cat."
"That it is, but you and I are only death gods and we have names, don't we? They say the ancients named things to give themselves power over said things. I think they've got it backwards. Things tell us their names so if we need it, they can lend us their power. Like our soul cutters." The light in Kisuke's eyes was bright and rapturous.
Ukitake laughed. "Some scientist you are," he said. "You're half a mystic."
"Maybe I am," Kisuke smiled.
"I think you are." Juushirou looked over at the cat, who was watching but was clearly disinterested. "Don't you think so, Traveler?"
The cat yawned, stretched and went to sleep.
