Hi! Just wanted to take this space to thank every single person who reviewed the last chapter! Thank you! I'm not used to using FF . net at all so sometimes it feels like shouting into the void, but it was nice to see you're all still reading. For that alone, I decided to treat you with 2 chapters!

In response to the comment from Guest in the previous chapter (I hope you're seeing this): No, I haven't finished yet, but I have a pretty fleshed-out timeline for what's supposed to happen in each chapter, so I know where I'm going and I know how I'm going to get there, I just have to write it!

To see Ichigo back in her clinic was a surprise, to say the least.

After the last 'incident,' she was sure Ichigo would be too embarrassed or humiliated to be around her again - even if he had no reason to be. So, when she saw him walk in with a P.I badge pinned to his chest, she felt slightly pleased.

"Looks like we just keep running into each other, Kurosaki-san!" she cheered, thanking the guard as she let him in.

"Small world," he relented, following her. "So, you have my work cut out for me?"

Orihime smiled and gestured around her office. "See, that's the thing," she said. "When the guard told me I was allowed to have an inmate around for P.I, I didn't really know what to say. Hanataro handles most of the grunt work here while I deal with the cases, so I'm not really sure what I can give you to do, Kurosaki-san."

"Really?" he asked, looking a little defeated as he glanced around the room. "You sure you don't have any store closets for me to clean out? Maybe some shit and vomit to dispose?"

She shook her head. "But, maybe you can keep me company? Talk to me as I go about my day?" she glanced at him, trying to gauge exactly how well or poorly he'd take it. "How does that sound?"

He snorted. "I don't know if you've noticed, Inoue, but I'm not much of a talker."

Orihime laughed airily. "I can talk enough for the both of us, Kurosaki-san, trust me," she said, earning an amused look from him. "But if you still want to be of use here, you can always help wipe the floor?" She ran her foot across the tile, dragging a thin layer of grime with it. "I'm opposed to prison industry as a concept, but I keep getting the plumber's and the janitor's numbers mixed up and -"

Ichigo raised his hand up to interrupt her. "You don't have to justify it to me," he said. "Work is what I'm here for, anyway."

She nodded, beckoning him to follow her so she could show him where they kept the brooms. She ignored the way her heart fell at that statement because what she wanted to hear was a little too idealistic, even for her. After all, between the two of them, only one of them had to be here.

As her face pinched in concentration, he cleared his throat.

"Karin called, by the way," he said, leaning against the glass to watch her. "I guess you were right."

"Oh that's amazing!" She clapped happily. "Must have felt good, right? Talking to your sister after a long time?"

"It did."

She beamed, ducking under the ledge to grab the broom so he could smile in privacy. He was very hesitant about letting those out, for some reason, which was a shame because he looked just as handsome as he did when he scowled.

"I never thanked you for what you did for me the other day, either," he said quietly, snapping her out of it.

Orihime almost dropped the broom in her hand, surprised that he even brought it up. She had expected him to be cagey, considering how he knew she tended to ask questions, try to understand him a little better. She just thought they would pretend it never happened.

Unless...he wanted her to understand him better. This felt like an invitation, of sorts.

She considered that, gripping the broom tightly before dragging it out. "You don't have to thank me for something like that, Kurosaki-san," she said gently, handing it over to him.

His hand came on top of hers, brushing the back of her palm tentatively as he took it from her. "Because it's your job," he said, like it was a question, watching her response carefully.

"I...It's not just that," Orihime whispered, finding it suddenly hard to breathe when his eyes scorched hers like that. The gentle dance of his skin on hers was turning her brain foggy, muddled.

"Hey, Kurosaki-san, I didn't know you were the one they scheduled for P.I!" Hanataro declared suddenly, entering the room with an unintentional obliviousness to the atmosphere.

Orihime and Ichigo sprang apart. It was like something had broken in the air.

Orihime quickly snapped into motion after that, muttering something about inmate Rikichi's loose motion as she scampered away. Hanataro came around to instruct Ichigo on how to wipe the floors correctly soon after. It was like that for a while, the three of them quite apart within the office, but when Hanataro retreated to bring some medication from the pharmacy, Orihime found herself drawing closer to Ichigo again. There were plenty of questions she wanted to ask, but Isane had told her to be careful, so she decided to play it safe.

Besides, her knees were still like jelly from their previous encounter, so it wasn't like she could ask anything anyway - even if she wanted to.

"That pin," Ichigo said suddenly, catching the twinkle of blue on her coat in the reflection of the dirty mirror. There was one in her hair - holding up her bun - and one pinned to her coat pocket. The one on her clothes was obviously broken, held together by some sort of stitch that weaved through the seams of her pocket. He wondered if it was important, the way it was so desperately held together. He pointed. "You never take it off."

Orihime looked down at it, touched it self-consciously. "Oh, this," she said. "It was a part of a set of two. I can't bear to part with it yet, it just doesn't seem right to toss it in the trash." She held it up. "It cracked when I ran into a door." She giggled, bumping her own head as if to say 'silly me!' before turning serious again. "I tried fixing it myself, tried to have several experts take a look at it, but this is the most I could do to salvage it."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows. "Must be important."

"My brother gave them to me," she replied, softly, walking back to one of the ward beds.

Ichigo didn't know what to do with himself, so he dunked his broom in the water and followed her. When she sat down, she had a distant look in her eyes, so he decided to sit beside her. He nudged her shoulder with his. "You okay?"

She sniffed and nodded. "Yeah," she said, reaching behind her bun to take off the barrette. Her hair came down in long, wavy strands of auburn hair that fell past her shoulders and down her back.

Ichigo felt his breath catch at the sight, almost not noticing that she was holding out her hairpin for him to see. He took it gingerly, between his own fingers.

"We had a big fight over this," she said, with a small laugh. "He bought it for me with his first salary - came home with this excited look on his face - but I was just so mad that he'd spent so much money on something for me after he practically paid for my college education in full." She shook her head. "I called him so many mean names -"

"-like what?" Ichigo asked, not being able to picture her swearing at all, much less calling her brother a mean name.

"Oh, you know," she said, with a shrug. "Poophead. Meanie. Big jerk."

Ichigo chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"Anyway, we had a really big argument," she said glumly. "He said he hadn't been spending much time with me and that he wanted to make up for it, but I was more worried about him not having enough in his paycheck for himself."

"I'm sure he was just trying to make you feel special," Ichigo offered. It was what she deserved, anyway. Then, something occurred to him. "What about your parents?"

Orihime shrugged. "Sora and I ran away when I was three," she explained. "They were never in the picture after that. And...after his death, Sora was gone, too. So," she inhaled deeply, giving him a strained smile. "It's just me now."

Ichigo felt a weight drop heavy on his heart, making his chest hurt with something that had nothing to do with his healing rib. "How did he die?" he asked quietly.

"Car accident," she answered simply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It fell forward again, right after. She huffed, but gave up, crossing her arms. "He died the morning after our big fight. I-I couldn't save him. I was too late." She turned to him, eyes glassy with poorly restrained tears. "I didn't even say 'good morning'. I just...let him leave. And then he never came back."

Ichigo twined one long strand of her hair around his finger, tugging lightly so she'd look at him.

"It's not your fault," he said softly, to which she scoffed and shook her head. "It's not. Sisters will find forgiveness where you feel too stubborn to ask, you told me that. Well, it's my turn to tell you that brothers will find a way to read your love, even when you don't say it." He cupped her cheek, wiping away a lone trail of tears. "If your brother was anything close to a good one, I'm sure he loved you right up to the very end."

Her eyes widened, pupils swimming wide in a pool of shiny gray. If he'd lifted his hand from her cheek, she was sure he'd see just how pink it was. "You think so?"

"Who wouldn't?"

The implications of his statement suddenly cottoned on to both of them, the room turning a few degrees warmer. Ichigo immediately retracted his hand and stood up, her barrette still clutched in the other hand. Orihime remained seated, fidgeting with her hands.

Outside, the guard rapped on the door, almost on cue.

"Time to go, Kurosaki!"

His brain suddenly flashed with an idea. He held up her pin. "Hey, you mind if I take this with me?" he asked, then pointed to her chest pocket. "Actually, it's best if you just give me both of them."

Orihime tilted her head to regard him, a little doubtfully. A small, confused pout was starting to form on her mouth.

"I'll bring it back," he promised, determinedly looking her in the eye. Granted, it was a little hard to do when she was looking at him like that, but he did. "I promise I'll give it back. You just have to trust me."

"Okay," she said, biting her lip as she unclipped the barrette from her pocket. When she looked up at him, she smiled. "I do."

"Good," he said, giving her a nod. "I'll see you soon."

"You too," she replied absently, watching as the guard came in to escort him out.

"Who wouldn't?" her brain chimed, in his voice.

x.x

In A-Wing, there was serious work to be done.

"All clear," Chad mumbled, standing guard at the open door while Ishida was hunched under the toilet. "Abarai is on the opposite wing, though."

He spotted the flash of red ponytail as Renji shook down some of the empty cells. Recreation time was the perfect time to do anything, as there was a lot of distracting noise that allowed an innocuous prisoner or two to do their bidding. Yet, they could never be too safe.

"Should be finished by the time he comes here then," Ishida guessed, wrenching his firm fingers around the screw he had popped into the metallic bolt of the seat. He wriggled it once, twice. Then began furiously rotating it clockwise. The box seat began to loosen up, but still snagged on the back. "Sado-kun, I need your help tugging this free. I don't have the strength to do it."

"But the guards -"

"It'll only take a minute," Ishida assured. He stood up, wiped his hands on his pants. "Here, just pull the bowl while I push it from the other end."

They exchanged spots as Chad crawled to his knees to regard the toilet bowl. He wrapped his firm arms around the surface and gently tugged its weight towards himself. It didn't budge. But when Ishida started putting his weight in, he began tugging it again. The metal was starting to come loose from its confines, making a rackety tremble as it began to dislodge.

"Quiet, quiet," Ishida grumbled gently, as he cocked his head around the corridor. Renji was still on the other side, talking to Ikkaku. Ishida turned back and gave the toilet box one last, hard shove.

Chad gasped as he saw a peek of the box-shaped hole behind it. It was no small opening, a 4x4 gaping space in the wall of their cell. "We did it," he said, surprised.

"Quick, pour the last of the chloride down there," Ishida instructed, reaching around the table for his 'water bottle'. "Keep this here any longer and Kurosaki will gulp it all down in one go for sure."

Convincing Ichigo not to touch his bottle had been easy so far, considering it just seemed like Ishida was too particular about no one touching his things. Ichigo didn't seem to question that, under certain lighting, the liquid looked different, or that Ishida never seemed to drink from it, but it decreased in increments every time Ichigo stepped out of the room and returned. Hell, there was even that one hot day where Iba almost beat them up for denying him a drink from it.

Ichigo was not too observant, that way, when it came to the matter of the daily and the mundane.

They could never be too safe, though.

Chad shuddered. "Is this going to work?"

Ishida tapped his chin as he watched Chad pour the liquid into the vent. "If my calculations are correct, pitting corrosion should have started on the wall at least a week ago," he explained, crouching. "With this last bit of liquid down the drain, there should be a hole burned completely through the concrete. Or at the very least, the tensile strength of the wall should have decreased. If we can get in there, we'll be able to see the exact damage."

"Get in there?" Chad asked slowly.

"I was thinking tomorrow night," Ishida said, looking up at him. "I asked one of the guards about the weather forecast and he said there's a good chance of rain." He jerked his head to the vent. "The noise would be the perfect opportunity to pop in there and come back out before count without anyone noticing."

"What about Ichigo?" Chad asked, crossing his arms solemnly.

Ishida nodded. "I suppose now would be a good time to tell-" He suddenly raised his hand in the air, cautioning Chad not to talk. "Someone's coming!" he exclaimed, hearing lithe footsteps sneak towards their cell door.

Chad and Ishida snapped into movement, pushing the toilet back into place. It was cutting it a little too close, because they'd only barely managed to reposition it when a blonde head popped around their cell door.

"Toilet trouble?" Shinji asked, a lazy grin on his face.

"Nothing we won't be able to fix without a little gruntwork, Hirako-san," Ishida replied evenly, crossing his arms as he leaned protectively over the toilet.

"What are you doing here, Shinji?" Chad asked, struggling to keep from wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead.

Shinji waltzed into the room, all loose limbs and careless gait. His eyes were perceptive, however. Watchful, as he scanned the room. "Well you know, it's that time of the year again," Shinji said, waving a hand. "People get to talking, one thing leads to another and then everyone's got the same thing on their lips: the path that waltzes a strait of water - Urahara's Cross!"

Chad and Ishida quickly caught each other's eyes, before turning impervious again.

"We were under the impression that it was just a rumour, Hirako-san," Ishida said calmly, crossing his arms.

"Just talk," Chad agreed.

"Just talk, huh?" Shinji asked. He walked to the toilet, picked up the screw that they hadn't had time to push back in, and twirled it around his fingers. "So the genius with an IQ of a 130 is gonna stand there and call our escape plan 'just talk?'" He whirled on his heel. "Or is Ichigo the head of this operation?" He tilted his head with a grin "I'd like to speak with your manager, either way. Book myself an early ticket on the ferry to freedom."

"We don't know what you're talking about," Ishida said icily. "If you're coming in with unfounded accusations to threaten us, I'd suggest you leave this cell immediately."

"I've got my eyes on you three, ya know," Shinji said, with a shrug that said 'your loss.' "We could be allies."

"Perhaps that would be feasible if we were intending to escape, Hirako-san," Ishida said firmly, as Chad nodded. "But that simply isn't the case."

Luckily, Shinji was interrupted from whatever he had to say by the sound of a relentless baton beating against the door.

"No loitering around during recreation!" Renji yelled, a tone louder than necessary.

Ishida flinched, but breathed a sigh of relief when Shinji began stepping away. Chad remained staunch by the toilet, but raised his hand in a wave to Renji. The two continued to watch as their unwanted guests began to leave, remaining still and silent. Once the coast was clear, Chad turned on his heel.

"How did he know?" he demanded.

Ishida frowned deeply, removing his glasses so he could pinch his brows. "I think he caught me last week when I had Keigo bring the chloride during visitation. I was careless. This could cost us."

Chad sighed. "If Ichigo had been here…" He didn't have to finish his sentence for Ishida to know what he meant. He would have found out, straight and simple. And he would have been betrayed that he didn't hear it from Ishida and Chad themselves.

Ishida cupped his cheek, rubbing one thumb tenderly across Chad's skin. "He will hear it directly from the horse's mouth," he assured. "Now that we've got the chlorine in place, nothing can stop us from sitting down and ironing out the details. And when tomorrow comes -"

He stopped abruptly, hearing footsteps again.

"Hey, what was Shinji doing here?" Ichigo asked as he suddenly came up on the cell, one hand thrusting his P.I badge to the accompanying guard.

Ishida and Chad looked at each other, then nodded.

"Ichigo…" Chad said, not knowing how to begin.

Ichigo, however, was fishing for something in his pockets. When he brought his palm out, there was a pair of barrettes - one perfectly intact, one awkwardly bent and broken, barely held together. "Just one second, Chad," he mumbled, before thrusting them into Ishida's hands. "I'm calling in the favor."

Ishida suspected it clinically with his own hand. He looked up at Ichigo. "These are the doctor's," he said, hoping Ichigo could see the question where there wasn't one.

Ichigo shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to the wall. He swallowed. "I need you to fix it."

"I didn't go to the country's most established school of architecture with a minor in handicrafts so I could help you win the doctor over, Kurosaki," Ishida said, with a little more heat than was needed. Really, the frustration came from the fact that they were supposed to be making plans, not doing crafts - but Ichigo's eyes were burning stubbornly. And perhaps this little gimmick might aid in keeping Ichigo in the clinic for a little longer. That was...definitely ideal. For the next few weeks at least.

"That's not what this is about," Ichigo was saying, in a growl. "Inoue's been really nice to me since I met her. I want to return the favor." He turned to Ishida with a smirk. "Besides, Ishida, you owe me."

"Okay, Ichigo," Chad said, clapping him on the shoulder with a big smile. "We understand."

Ishida understood the underlying worry behind his words. The way he was behaving, he might as well have said, "We hope, when the time comes, that you might understand too."

He stared down at the pins in his hand. If they were going to go through with this, the doctor would play an essential part. So would Kurosaki's co-operation.

Two birds, one stone, Ishida thought, already walking over to his bed to get started.

When things were finally ready, they could tell Ichigo about their escape plan. And when they did, Ishida hoped to God he wouldn't put up much of a fight.