Gods above and below, he was watching her again.

Nanao hunched her shoulders at the desk and stared fixedly at her paperwork. Shunsui was on the couch, pretending to sleep, but she could feel his eyes on her back, a steady heat against her skin.

If he was going to transfer her, she wished he'd just get it over with. Waiting for the axe to fall was killing her.

You don't mean that…

Nanao massaged her temples wearily. No, she probably didn't mean that. She couldn't imagine what she'd do without the Eighth, or its captain. She supposed that she loved both, although it wasn't the kind of white-hot passion that her friend Matsumoto was always waxing eloquent about. Maybe that was the problem. She was not particularly good at passion. She was much better at paperwork, and the only people who considered paperwork a sign of love were all in the Accounting Department and were generally shunned by polite society.

She supposed she'd go to the Fourth. She might have preferred the Thirteenth, but Shunsui was hardly going to rid himself of an inadequate second by foisting her off on his dearest friend. She wasn't much of a healer, but she could do the basics, and someone with her organizational skills was generally welcome anywhere. The Twelfth would have been a better fit, but Captain Mayuri…ugh. She repressed a shudder. She'd try to fight her way into the Eleventh first. At least that was a clean death and didn't involve probes.

"My sweet Nanao-chan looks tired," rumbled Shunsui behind her.

"For the thousandth time," she said, stamping a form with rather more force than needed, "I am not your Nanao-chan."

They made this particular ritual exchange three or four times a day. His next line would be "Ah, my Nanao-chan is cruel…" and then he'd trail off and probably fall asleep again. In an odd way, she was glad to hear it—it was a measure of normalcy that had been sorely lacking recently.

"You could be," he said, instead.

It took a moment for this to register. Her brain sent back to her ears for confirmation two or three times. They insisted that they'd heard correctly.

"W-what?" She felt like an actor in a play whose partner had suddenly abandoned his lines.

"You could be," he said again, and good lord, he was standing right behind her. She hadn't heard him get up. Possibly he'd used shunpo, or maybe she hadn't heard it over the roaring in her ears.

What is he saying? Am I hallucinating? I've been under stress lately, possibly I'm having some kind of overwork-induced hallucination, in a minute I'll pass out and I'll wake up over in Fourth and gods, I hope I don't say anything too humiliating on the way over—

You're babbling inside your own head. Lovely.

Hands closed over her shoulders, and that was definitely not a hallucination. She jerked upright, startled.

"My Nanao-chan is tense today…"

Good lord, he was rubbing her neck. Callused thumbs settled on either side of her vertebrae and slid upwards toward her hair. Their warmth lingered on her skin long after they'd passed.

Uh-oh.

He doesn't mean anything by it. He's just being his usual flirty self. That's all. Nothing…nothing to get worked up over… argued part of her brain.

Yeah, right, said another part.

"My dutiful Nanao-chan works far too hard…"

He was certainly very good at it. There had to be some trace of the healing arts in it, or else he was uncannily skilled at finding the sore spots left from wielding a pen for half the day and a sword for the other half. His fingers glided like oil over her shoulders. Muscles were loosening that had been drawn tight for the past three centuries. Nanao's eyelids slid down involuntarily.

Unfortunately, even while her shoulders were relaxing, other bits were getting very tense indeed.

Should I stop him?

I should stop him.

You're getting a free neckrub, said a heretofore unsuspected and apparently hedonistic third part of her brain, so just shut up and enjoy it.

Nanao forced her eyes open, peered down, and discovered that she'd stamped the top form six times in the box marked "Do not write in this space."

"Damnit," she said, under her breath, and felt a puff of warmth against the back of her head as Shunsui laughed.

This is not a good idea, Nanao. This is a very, very, very bad idea.


What idea? I'm not having any ideas! He's the one rubbing my neck!

Uh-huh. Her brain did not sound convinced. That was the trouble with brains, they had access to all the same information you did, including the way her heart was pounding and her…

Let's just stick to the heart pounding for now, shall we?

He was not rubbing her neck like a friend or a comrade in arms. His fingers were lingering entirely too long, stroking her skin like a lover.

Oh, dear…

She did love Shunsui, of course. He was easy to love. She had told herself for years that it was the platonic love of a subordinate for a very fine officer, (mixed, admittedly, with the exasperation of a pet owner for a beloved pet that was forever shedding sake bottles and leaving piles of paperwork to clean up.) He was a dear friend and she admired a great deal about him, but still…platonic. Purely platonic.

The fluttering in her chest did not feel very platonic, and the less said about the fluttering somewhat lower, the better.

This is ridiculous. He's not…he's just being Shunsui, that's all. He doesn't mean anything by it.

Uh-huh. And if you believe that, I have a wonderful bridge I'd like to sell you…

"My lovely Nanao-chan," he murmured, and kissed the top of her head.

She shot to her feet in pure shock, cracking him brutally in the nose with her skull. He reeled backward, one hand over his face, and that gave her time to get the chair between them.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, hearing her voice shake.

"I could ask you the same question," he said reproachfully, checking his fingers for blood. "Ow."

"You started it!" she snapped.

Apparently deciding that his nose wasn't broken, he dropped his hand and smiled ruefully at her, the usual broad and foolish smile, but there was something under it that made her swallow hard. "My dear Nanao-chan…you never fail to surprise me."

He moved towards her, across the wooden floor.

She swallowed again. He was a large man. It was easy to forget, when you saw him in the company of Captains like Kenpachi or Sajin, who were inhumanly huge. But compared to her, in a room the size of the office, Shunsui was capable of looming quite effectively. Dry cleaning, one captain's uniform, large… she thought, for no apparent reason, and fought back a hysterical giggle.

She was not afraid, not exactly. Nanao would have believed in sunrise at midnight, or that Ichimaru Gin would come back and take up work as a cocktail waitress before she would have believed that Shunsui would harm her. Still. She was shaking, and her heart was skittering like a lizard over hot rocks. If this wasn't fear, it was at least a little like it.

"Dear Nanao-chan…" he said gently, the sort of voice that would soothe baby birds and nervous Vice-Captains. His eyes were brown and very deep.

Her spine hit the wall, startling her. She hadn't realized she'd been backing away. She laid a hand flat against it, feeling cool plaster under her fingers. Her skin felt feverishly hot.

"We can't do this," she said, and realized immediately that she'd made a tactical error.

Yes, the 'we' was a mistake. And admitting that he's doing anything out of the ordinary, that was a mistake, too. Any chance of getting out of this with a fan whack just went out the window… The little voice in her head did not sound entirely displeased by this.

Traitor!

Oh, shut up.

Shunsui placed a hand flat against the wall and leaned against it. "Why not?"

Nanao had to lick her lips before she could speak, and that was probably a tactical error as well, because his eyes riveted on the motion like a cat at a mousehole. "You're a captain. I—I'm—"

Err…what was she again? Something important, surely…she'd had a point she was making somewhere…his eyes were so dark they were almost black, like very high-quality chocolate…

Vice-captain.

Thank you, yes, one of those.

"I'm a Vice-captain. Your subordinate. There are rules…"

"Which have been broken many times before, darling Nanao-chan," he said, reaching out with his free hand and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. His hand was very warm, and he did not take it away immediately, running a fingertip over the rim of her ear and down her jaw.

Nanao knew that that wasn't a good reason—that was a terrible reason, in fact, she was quite sure of it, just because other people broke the rules didn't mean that you could or should—but she couldn't seem to frame the argument effectively, because he had laid a palm against her face and was stroking his thumb over her cheekbone as delicately as a man handling a hollow egg.

A little help here?

Oh, I got nothin'. He does have wonderful hands though, hmmm?

She could have gotten away. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, but he wasn't pinning her to the wall or anything. Her way was blocked by that ridiculous haori, a flimsy enough barrier. She could have ducked away. Her book was on the table, but she could have slapped him, or used the demon arts—she was his equal with kido, possibly even his superior, and they both knew it.

Hell, she could have simply have ordered him to stop. Put enough iron in her voice, take refuge in formal language…she knew him well enough to know that he'd have backed off. There was no unkindness in him, and he certainly did not need to force himself on an unwilling lieutenant.

Unfortunately, Nanao wasn't entirely sure that's what she wanted. She knew this was a bad idea—for some reason, she couldn't quite remember why, but definitely bad—he was trailing a finger across her lips, and that was not helping—

"You're drunk," she said, almost inaudibly, to buy a little time.

I have to think. I need a minute to think. Just a minute. Just a clear—

Yeah, you're not going to get that.

"I am entirely sober," he said solemnly, and the voice in her head obviously knew what it was talking about, because Shunsui leaned down and closed his mouth over hers.

The world went away for a little while, lost in the velvety sensation of his lips on hers. Nanao could feel her knees starting to buckle, but that was okay, because he had an arm around her waist and was holding her up, which meant that she was pressed full-length against his body.

That definitely wasn't okay.

His lips were as warm as his hands. He kissed her very tenderly, as if afraid that she might shatter—and a good thing, too, because I just might… His mouth on hers was light as the wings of a hell-butterfly, and every movement was slow and careful and precise. She had the oddest feeling that he was as nervous as she was, and that made no sense at all. He'd done this hundreds of times—and that was another reason why this was a terrible idea, come to that, she should put an end to it at once.

Well, perhaps in just a minute or two…

The kiss deepened, as much her doing as his. He was still being maddeningly gentle. It was going to drive her crazy in a minute—well, crazier. Her body, traitor that it was, had molded itself against him with a pliability Nanao found rather appalling. She was definitely going to have to have a word with herself…for god's sake, she had a hand fisted in his haori, and the other one had slid up the back of his neck, and how did that happen?

Don't look at me, I don't control the limbs. (Apparently this was a sore point with that part of her brain.)

For all that Shunsui spent most of his time napping, his body was hard with muscle. Nanao clung to him like a rock. She didn't think her knees were supporting any of her weight at this point, but he gave no sign at all of strain, even bending down as far as he was to kiss her.

She was shaking, and he had to be able to feel it, and that was either erotic or intensely aggravating, possibly both. Good luck convincing him you're no baby bird now…

Oh, chirp-chirp.

This was a really terrible idea.

She had to break off the kiss. She couldn't seem to get enough air in her lungs. She was going to drown on dry land, in those impossible chocolate eyes. She turned her head away, finally, and gasped for air. Her lungs cried out in relief. Most of the rest of her cried out in dismay.

"Nanao-chan?" he murmured.

"I can't breathe," she said hoarsely.

"Let me teach you," he whispered.

If he kissed her again, she would be lost. She had to think. She needed a moment—just a moment, just long enough to drag the shreds of rational thought around her. This was not something to rush into. She had to think.

She could no more think in his arms than she could fly.

"Nanao-chan—" he said, undoubtedly seeing the panic in her eyes, and moving to quench it. "Nanao-chan, it will be all ri—"

Nanao ducked under his arm, took a step, and vanished.