"Where am..I?" Disorientation thickened her voice.

"Safe." His monosyllabic answer vibrated in the still, antiseptic air.

For the longest time, Rukia stared fuzzily, head pounding like a steel band reeled inside. "Safe?" she repeated in a kind of under breath snort. Safe- the word repeated hollowly in her mind.

"Sleep now." he intoned, face impassive yet the charcoal blackness of his hair and incandescence of his green eyes stood painted out in the recesses of her mind. Somewhere. Sometime she had looked upon him differently.

My...enemy.

Then, because it rang false.

My savior.

Then, she slept.

(*)

The woman seemed so fragile lying in the washed-out bed in the room.

Szayel kept insisting she was merely sleeping off the effects of the drug and most likely wouldn't be fully responsive for another day. Ulquiorra with as few words left no doubt after this conversation, that were she not to regain awareness in the time specified; the Octava would be an accumulated mass of spirit particles in moments.

The Octava had reassured him again that she would be fine.

Little emotion clouded his reasoning, for he did not believe her to be weak enough to succumb to a medicinal anesthetic be it as it may created by Las Noches primary weaponry expert. She would not be worthy of such absorption of his, had she been any weaker than initially thought.

After a moment of longer concentration, he did come to one conclusion from many.

He would wait.

The next day, she awoke.

(*)

"Physically you are in perfect health.." Rambled the scientist. They flanked her on either side, Rukia abjectly refusing to have her gaze on the one whom had drugged her, so she had little choice but to turn and present her back to the pink-haired nut job who was disturbingly starting to remind her of the dreaded Mayuri Kurotsuchi from the Twelfth Company.

Little to her annoyance did the scientist even notice her rudeness.

"The incident with Ichimaru.."

Rukia blanked out the face associated with the name. Instead letting her cheek rest into the pillow, one eye focused on the two green staring down at her.

He didn't blink.

Didn't even appear remotely interested in her blood cell count, her blood pressure or anything.

So, why did he stay?

If she was wholly honest with herself, which Rukia was occasionally when the truth could be born without tearing her beliefs to shreds; she would feel the tiniest flicker of hope within the heart Szayel talked so lovingly of.

What hope? She quashed the seed with a sneer though her face remained expressionless. Her Kuchiki mask was on, pride keeping her...from what? murmured a voice that sounded like hers yet infinitely softer.

-Shut up. She hissed to the voice.

The snap of the door closing quietly followed by Szayel's dulcet tones.

"I'll leave you two alone now. Must get back to my work..."

Rukia had the bedcovers tucked beneath her chin. Ulquiorra's stare was unnerving her and that was a feeling - no a thought she despised above all else. That she let it unnerve her.

"Why are-"

"How are you feeling?"

She closed her mouth knowing she looked like an idiot longer in his eyes as she simply gaped at him.

"F-fine, I guess."

The dip of his head in acknowledgement was almost imperceptible.

Rukia scowled suddenly, annoyed that the question had embarrassed her. "Why are you here?" She used more force than perhaps was necessary but it didn't help that a dull warmth had crept unbidden into her cheeks.

"I should think that query pointless."

"Are you saying...I'm stupid?"

A plain, expressionless look.

Rukia missed a time when Ichigo would've been ranting on and on that she was-

"Are you hungry?"

She closed her eyes for patience, feeling her stomach growl.

Thank the Gods, it was muffled by the blanket.

"Yes, I'm starved. Get me something decent."

(*)

Surprisingly he did.

To the extent of perhaps what the kitchens could offer.

No hospital food of whatever gunk the scientist called healthy.

That didn't stop Szayel's voice from muttering in the hallway about 'not indulging the patient.'

She wanted to kick him where it would hurt, but then on further thought realized her foot would probably hurt more. The door opened quietly, she looked up, hands folded in her lap.

"Smells...good."

Strangely it did.

Ulquiorra carried it in, standing with a tray balanced in front of him; resembling oddly enough a monochrome version of a waiter in black and white. He had the looks to go along with it- then she chastised her thoughts, wondering at the cause of them.

Maybe that drug was still in her system.

He set the tray down, tiny legs propping it just so on her lap.

She looked down at the chunky soup and warmly crusted bread, her stomach growling a little louder then.

Ulquiorra stayed, hands in pockets, leaning against the wall.

Somehow...she didn't mind as much now.

(*)

Two days.

Mind numbingly bored was a situation she had never anticipated having never been captured by the enemy, put through veritable physical hell then placed in a white ward with a pink-haired scientist and two roly-poly Arrancar Fraccion hovering around.

Then, again Szayel had a special kind of madness to his methods.

If anything he was indifferently kind, her tongue felt scalded associating the word with an Arrancar. Yet there was no other way to describe him.

Szayel checked up on her intermittently.

Asked if she needed anything to which she would either reply no or ask in return for water or maybe an extra pillow to prop up behind her back. Then, the scientist would smile politely and bring her what she asked for.

Then, his Fraccion.

Lumina and Verona- whom introduced themselves more than once in rather high-pitched voices. Were of little intelligence. She could clearly appreciate the superiority of something of Ulquiorra's caliber to those of lower, more inferior rank.

There was something almost ... admiring- no that wasn't the word.

Rukia struggled to define the kind of feeling other than absolute loathing for the creator of Ulquiorra and Szayel, even as Lumina- or was it Verona hopped in on knock-knees waving a pad of paper and a set of pens.

"Kuchiki-san! Kuchiki-san! Is this what Kuchiki-san asked for?"

She took a moment to look down at the round, ugly creature whom was her natural enemy.

Then, smiled.

Her manners remained if nothing else.

"Thank you." And patted the head of the fraccion.

(*)

He watched the bloodied corpse tossed into the square cubicle prison, the lumbering Gillian devouring the body of the once-smiling human girl.

Gin gazed down into his hand, his grin widening.

Rukia-chan would be so delighted to hear any news on her friend!

His hand closed upon the gleaming hairclips.

He would give them to her personally.

(*)

The main lab was silent.

Only the sound of a drawer slamming and a frustrated sigh punctuated the air.

She couldn't find tape.

Rukia glared at the Petri dishes and glass beakers lining like tiny testaments to medical science on the counters and shelves. Inside the drawers gauze packets and styptic supplies in clear plastic filled the confines.

Not even medical tape.

She turned in a complete circle, ready to launch herself at the next potential cabinet or hapless drawer since she really wanted to put up some of her drawings. They would help liven up the otherwise bland room and besides...Lumina and Verona had complimented her on them.

So, there! Vindicated for once, Rukia smirked to the other end of the room, her hands on her yukata-swathed hips. She was feeling pretty goo-

"Alone...Rukia-chan?"

That voice. Instantly a cold chill swept through her as in that exact moment she felt his slit eyes and happy grin focused on her back.

"I-Ichimaru." She spun around. She did her best- dammit! She did. Not to appear afraid.

The man lounged in the doorway, lanky frame filling it. "What's that hostile look for, Rukia-chan? Not a pleasantry for me?" he pouted just for a second, long bell sleeves covering his hands as he touched his breast briefly. "You hurt me real bad, you know..."

"S-Stay away..." Rukia hated herself for whimpering, for her stomach twisting in knots. For the urge to hurl her breakfast on the floor and for her knees shaking so badly she could barely move let alone back up as he advanced further into the large room.

"Stay away!" her voice came out stronger, more demanding. Her eyes watered yet she stared back defiantly as his grin returned in full force.

"My. . .that's what I always adored about you, Rukia-chan. That spirit! Such fire in those beautiful too-large eyes." His tone dropped caressingly lower. "That makes me want to pluck out.." his long fingers like spider's legs, made a snatching motion in front of her face. "..those lovely little orbs and keep them all to my little old self."

She slapped his hand away.

That was her first mistake.

Ichimaru seized her slender wrist, twisting it sharply behind her back. Rukia cried out in pain and terror, her smaller body bowing beneath his much taller, heavier frame.

Please-not again-please somebody-somebody-!

Her mind latched onto an image.

"Ulquiorra! Help me!"

Ichimaru chuckled.

"Ulqui-" Not Ichigo, she hadn't cried uselessly for her friend. Rukia realized with a numbing sense of unreality stealing over her. Her arm was gradually losing all sensation as Ichimaru's thin fingers clamped down tighter. She could feel the bruises forming.

"Ah, 'Kyorra-kun..." the man whispered hotly into the shell of her ear.

Rukia felt tears leak out of her eyes, tearing down on her lip she fought hard not to scream.

"..he's at a meeting along with the rest of the Espada."

Szayel too. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. She was alone- no, the fraccion! Where-

Slowly her body was pivoted around; Ichimaru held her carefully yet firmly to keep her from escaping his grasp. She was looking right up at him. No.. her lips parted in a soundless scream. Blood dotted the immaculate white front of his uniform.

"They were adamant about it." Ichimaru pouted almost comically. She found little humor within his expression. "But! I simply had to speak to you, Rukia-chan!"

"Lumina..Verona.." Rukia mumbled.

"I killed them." Ichimaru shrugged as if he had killed a pair of insects.

"Why?" Everything was done with a reason in her mind.

His smile returned, "'cause they were in my way."

She went numb.

"...Oh! Don't look so sad, Rukia-chan!" his other hand stopped restraining her other wrist. She lacked the strength to slap him again. "At least I didn't order the Fraccions' bodies fed to the Gillians like what 'Kyorra-kun did!"

She stared without comprehension. "What are you..."

"Inoue-chan!" Ichimaru sang happily. "'Kyorra-kun didn't tell you? Inoue-chan was found beaten to death in her room a couple of days ago! 'Kyorra-kun ordered her body fed to the Gillians below Las Noches today- but lookit!"

For a moment he had released her, snapping things into her hair.

"...I saved these just for you..to remember her by."

Rukia reached up a shaking hand, touching Orihime's hairclips stuck in her hair.

She began screaming.

(*)

Szayel found her.

Numb, sitting beside the pierced bodies of the Fraccion.

"Shinso." The scientist murmured, glancing down expressionlessly at Ichimaru's handiwork. "I'm sorry, my dear. Once I saw that Ichimaru-san wasn't at the meeting I knew something was up." Szayel gently tugged on her arm, questioning softly. "He didn't...harm you?"

She knew what he meant.

What he thought might've happened.

She couldn't bring herself to vocalize the answer.

Instead shaking her head once. No.

Szayel helped her to her feet, leading her away from the dead Arrancar.

"They'll be alright." The scientist comforted once when she tried to turn back to look at the pitiful deflated bodies. "I'll fix them right up and then they'll be as good as new. So, don't worry your pretty little head, hmm, okay?"

Her guilt remained even on hearing this.

It didn't change the fact that Ichimaru had killed- killed because of her.

"Ulquiorra will come soon. He'll be very interested to know about this..." Szayel shook his head, cotton-candy colored locks swishing.

(*)

She waited, sitting up in the bed. At the foot was a pile of her drawings, neatly stacked and placed together. Most featured Szayel cackling like a mad scientist- which he was, and his two Fraccion smashing beakers behind him.

She had torn the ones of Ulquiorra-bunny in half.

Then, meekly asked for tape.

They now sat on the tiny bedside table, but she wouldn't acknowledge them.

Orihime... Guilt washed over her.

Guilt-pain-hatred-remorse.

Rukia clenched her fists, willing herself not to breakdown.

If only I had been-

The door opened with a creak.

Her head shot up, her lips twisting into an ugly snarl. "I hate you." she hissed with everything she had.

Ulquiorra the Arrancar- the Cuatro Espada of Aizen's army- her warden, her rapist for in the beginning she hadn't wanted it, her protector and...everything. Stood motionless, simply watching her with his too-bright, too painfully beautiful green eyes.

They were too beautiful to belong to something so foul.

"I hate you! I hate you! You- you fiend, you bastard-" she screeched, balling her fists into the sheets.

He looked her over, his eyes roving back to her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, impassive, disregarding her hate for as much as she screamed it and hurled abuse into his paper-white face marked by those strange green tear tracks.

Nothing. Nothing she said could faze him.

Because...

Rukia flew up from the bed.

The door closed.

He stepped forward, catching her wrists high as she sought to strike him with her anger.

Hurt- her mind demanded. Scream-hate- her entire world was shifting, breaking up into pieces before her very eyes. She couldn't breathe when his mouth found hers, when her jaw slid apart, his lips caressing hers.

When the backs of her legs met the hard edge of the side of the bed, she lifted them, hooking them to fit around his slender waist. He released her arms, her hands plowing then through the deep, dark locks at the back of his head, her nails scraping dully against the layered pieces of the broken bone helmet.

One part hate.

She sucked the warm wet appendage roughly, fingers crooking into his scalp almost painfully- she hoped. he gave no sign of even feeling it.

He slanted his mouth harder against hers, unmercifully raking his teeth against her soft flesh. Rukia thrilled at the pain, moaning without reason, losing every sense in the way a person whom had lost their faith might feel.

Nothing in the world mattered.

Not her hatred.

Not pain.

Nothing but him.

She was drowning..

Gods help her. Rukia shut her eyes, reveling at war with revulsion as his hands slipped inside her robe, stroking, searing burning tracks into her flesh. His mouth left hers, trailing sinuously down her throat, his hands slid behind her back; her mind then coming to the realization that he had laid her on the bed.

When had he-?

Then, no more thought.

His mouth slid around her tender bud, his tongue swirling around her nipple.

The teeth that bit down sharply drew both a breathless gasp of pain and stuttering pleasure from her aching throat.

"M-More.." she whisper-pleaded, arching up into his mouth.

For a moment the world seemed to stop.

That moment she would remember for the rest of her days.

Surrender.

Realization.

She wanted ..this.

Rukia closed her eyes, betraying everything she knew in that solitary second.

Him.

-TBC...

AN: extra l:ong! Thanks for reading!

No flames!

Reviews please! :D