Nanao knew damn well that he was her superior at shunpo, but maybe that wouldn't matter. Maybe he wouldn't give chase at all. She flicked to the hallway, then up to the roof.

The terra cotta tiles were slick underfoot, and she was still badly off-balance. She stumbled a bit, nearly went to one knee—and strong arms caught her from behind, holding her upright.

"Careful, Nanao-chan…" a familiar voice said in her ear. She could feel his breath against her cheek.

Damnit!

She flicked out again, to the courtyard, and immediately into a back alley, stopping for one rapid breath and then shooting off again.

Two alleys over, she paused, panting. Her hair was coming undone, and she shoved one of the sticks back in ruthlessly.

"Let me help you with that…"

God's teeth and toenails, the man was fast! She threw herself blindly sideways, teeth bared in frustration, moving so quickly that she barely set a foot down before shoving off again.

He stayed with her, as tight as a tick on a dog's back.

Flick.

"My darling Nanao-chan—"

Flick.

"—is playing—

Flick.

"--hard to get?"

Flick.

It rapidly became obvious that she wasn't going to lose him through sheer speed. The fact that there was a half-second delay between when she materialized and when he did was probably due to the fact that he wasn't trying very hard.

Gods! She needed five minutes. Three minutes. One minute, even. That was all. A lousy minute to get her mental feet under her and think.

A half second was not going to cut it.

Where was she now? Top of the one of the tea-houses, it looked like. It was only midmorning by the sun. Somehow it seemed like it should have been later, as if an age of the earth should have passed over the course of that kiss.

Shunsui appeared in front of her, looking sober and slightly sad.

"If you—"

Flick.

"—want me to—"

Flick.

"—stop, you need—"

Flick.

"—only ask."

He would, too. Damnit. She paused long enough for another breath, and to shove her hair out of her eyes. He watched every movement like some kind of peculiar pink hawk.

Nanao was willing to admit that she was being irrational, but she didn't want to beg him for five minutes to clear her head. She had her pride. She didn't want to dive into the safety of one of the areas she knew he wouldn't go—the women's locker room, say. (She was pretty sure he wouldn't go there. Almost sure. Fairly sure. Not really sure at all, come to that…)

That he already thought of her as a baby bird was infuriating. She wasn't going to compound it by running and hiding. She wanted to lose him long enough to think, not surrender completely.

Besides, she wasn't even sure that she wanted him to stop. That was one of the things she didn't know, and couldn't decide in the half-bloody-second he was giving her.

She met his eyes and didn't say anything before flicking out again.

When he appeared again, he was starting to smile.

Damn, that was what she got for encouraging him. Fine. She couldn't out-step him. She'd have to be smarter than he was.

Nanao flicked an erratic zig-zag, back and forth, moving as rapidly as she could. Shunsui kept with her, barely a step behind. The edge of his haori actually slid over her hand on the last step.

Up to the execution ground she went, and those surroundings startled him for the merest instant, which was all she was going to get. Nanao flung a ball of demon magic at the ground and vanished again.

She was very, very good at demon magic. It wasn't meant to wound, but it was bright and loud and the power masked her own for just an instant. She sped down the mountain as fast as she'd come, leaving tiny avalanches of pebbles behind her.

"Clever Nanao-chan," he said pleasantly, six inches behind her shoulder.

Damn!

Time for plan B…

A wicked grin spread over her face. She stepped through space again.

The offices of the Tenth division looked pretty much like everybody else's offices—white walls, wooden floors, sliding paper screens. Matsumoto Rangiku leaned against the windowsill and yawned. It was a gorgeous day. Was it too early to start drinking sake? Probably.

Well, maybe just a little sip…

Nanao flicked into the room next to her. Matsumoto blinked. "Nanao…?"

She looked like Nanao. She was the right height, and the right build, and everything. But this Nanao's glasses were askew and her hair was falling out of its tight knot, and she had an expression that Matsumoto just barely remembered from their days at the Academy.

"The captain needs a hug," said Nanao, shoving her glasses back up, and vanished with Matsumoto's squeal of delight still ringing in her ears.

It took Shunsui nearly ten seconds to catch up to her that time, and he was definitely looking rumpled. "That was low, Nanao-chan," he said approvingly.

Time for him to learn this baby bird has teeth…

Uh, birds don't actually have—

Shut up!

She went out again.

Captain Hitsugaya stared glumly at the forms on his desk. There was sheet A, and sheet C. Where was sheet B? It had to be around here somewhere…if Matsumoto hadn't lost it somewhere… He rifled through the stack. Not a sheet B in any of them. The one on the bottom had four sheet D's. Ice was beginning to rime the edges of his desk from sheer frustration, and the ink had frozen on the inkstone. He could feel a headache coming on.

Ise Nanao, the second of Eighth Division, appeared in front of him, and dropped into seiza position in front of the desk. He blinked, leaning forward, and she said, in one hurried breath, "If you buy me five minutes, Hitsugaya-taicho, I will personally clear up the last month's backlog that I know Matsumoto left you!"

"Done!" said Hitsugaya, who was not called a boy genius for nothing. She vanished again.

He had no idea what he'd just agreed to, but he'd seen the size of the last month's backlog, and he wasn't about to look a gift shinigami in the mouth.

Captain Shunsui still wasn't sure if he was enjoying this or if it was incredibly frustrating. He'd had his Nanao-chan actually in his arms—and apparently he'd blown it, scared her senseless, and sent her off into a panicked flight across the city.

Except that she wasn't acting scared senseless. She hadn't told him to stop, and he knew that she knew that all it would take would be one harsh word. Hell, at this point one harsh word would have sent him crawling into a dark hole with as much sake as he could carry.

Was he doing the right thing? Was he making matters worse? Was she expecting him to follow?

He didn't know. Still, he had to admit that his lovely, tricky Nanao-chan was leading him on quite a merry chase. He was going to require a serious nap after this. Possibly two naps.

What kept him following was the wild look in her eyes—it was really quite inspiring—and that fact that he would swear by everything he held sacred that she had been right there with him. Unwilling women did not kiss you until their glasses fogged up, or melt against you like hot butter. He shook his head at the memory. He hadn't expected that.

Thank god hakamas gave you plenty of breathing room.

He flash-stepped somewhere, still following the traces of Nanao's power—it looked like the offices of the Tenth again—and before he'd managed to get his bearings, a blast of ice hit him from the waist down, which chilled his ardor significantly.

"Oh, come on!" He looked up into the guilty-but-defiant face of Hitsugaya, who spread his hands, and then looked down at his ankles, which were encased in ice.

"It won't hurt you," said the young Captain apologetically, "and she said if I stalled you for five minutes, she'd clean up the backlog for the last month. Do you have any idea how much that is?"

That woman is going to drive me to drink…

"It's rude of me, I know, but you'll have to do your own paperwork." Shunsui said, intoned three words of demon magic, and dropped a fireball at his own feet.

Nanao paused on the steps of the library, grudgingly impressed. Shunsui appeared on the step below, looking much the worse for wear. His legs were soaking wet, and the bottom hem of his haori was actually on fire. She hadn't seen him in such a state since…well, ever, really.

Hitsugaya had held him for less than thirty seconds.

The gleam in his eyes was positively predatory.

"My dearest Nanao-chan," he rasped, "you are fighting dirty."

Something about the way he said that did dreadful things to her pulse. Her stomach turned over in a way that was not at all unpleasant.

Damnit, I need five minutes, or—or—

Well, something'll happen anyway.

Would that be such a bad thing?

People were staring. Someone from Fourth was approaching with a bucket of water and a panicked expression.

"Captain?" One of the lower ranked members of Eighth appeared next to them. "Are we under attack?"

"We're fine," snapped Shunsui. "Get lost."

This was not at all a normal way for the captain to address the troops. Years of easy-going leadership had bred a certain independent-minded quality in the Eighth, however. The young man looked from his soggy, smoldering captain to his rattled, panting vice-captain, and a grin spread across his features until he looked like a happy shark. "Sir!" He fired off a salute. "Getting lost, sir!" and vanished again.

Captain and vice-captain shared a brief, fond glance that was largely free of sexual tension—at least at first.

"Well, so much for discretion…" muttered Nanao.

"You can't really blame them. The betting pool's been growing compound interest for decades."

"Oh?" Nanao lifted her chin defiantly. "Maybe I ought to place a bet."

His eyes gleamed like molten chocolate. "Dearest Nanao-chan…" He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek as if they were entirely alone in the courtyard. "Any time you wish to cash in…"

Damn, half of Soul Society has to be staring at us…oh, well. Can't be helped…

"Captain—" she said huskily, turning her face so that her lips brushed against his palm. He watched, transfixed. An anvil could have fallen on him from a great height, and she rather doubted he'd have noticed.

"—you're on fire," she said and flash-stepped the hell out of there.

Shunsui made a sound of pure frustration, slapped at his robes—which were indeed on fire—and then the bucket of water hit him square and drenched him from head to toe.

He paused. One hand came up and wiped water out of his eyes. He turned a murderous gaze on the unfortunate girl from Fourth.

"S-sorry…" She cowered behind her bucket.

Shunsui exhaled. "No," he said, dredging up courtesy from some deep well. "I was on fire. Thank you." He tipped the edge of his soggy hat and flickered away.

Nanao was running out of energy, and definitely running out of time. She'd bought a few more seconds, but Shunsui was hot on her heels. He might not be a god of flash, but he could move with quite astonishing speed when he wanted to.

Last chance, and then she'd have to take drastic measures. Ukitate was his oldest and dearest friend, and wouldn't possibly help her…or would he?

Shunsui flashed into existence, took one step forward through normal space, and got clotheslined across the chest with no finesse at all.

He was bigger than the other man, and a good bit stronger, but momentum was against him. Even shunpo had to shed velocity somehow. His head snapped back and he fell backward, failed utterly to catch himself, and hit the floor with a grunt.

He vaguely recognized the ceiling as Thirteenth Division, from the carvings on the beams. That, and Ukitate Jyuushiro was staring down at him, rubbing his arm and looking appalled. That was a dead giveaway.

"Et tu, Ukitate…?"

"She said it was for your own good!" said his dearest friend. "I didn't expect you'd be moving so fast!" The white haired man shook his arm out from the shoulder, wincing. "I was planning on talking to you—I didn't realize you were going to come charging through like a rutting boar…"

Shunsui started to laugh. He couldn't help it. He was drenched and smoldering and his chest hurt and the back of his head hurt and he felt wonderful. The way she'd looked at him on the steps—no, there was something there. He would have staked his captaincy on it. Those blue eyes looked less like ice and more like a very hot flame.

He rolled to his feet, panting. "That little minx…" and flashed out again.

Nanao saw him coming, taking a zig-zag path over the rooftops that followed the path she'd taken. She gained a few more seconds, but it wasn't enough. She was thinking about how to keep him off her tail, and that meant she wasn't thinking about—about whatever the hell she was supposed to be thinking about!

I do remember what that is, right?

Don't look at me, I'm still trying to remember that kiss. You just go on without me.

No, there was only one option left.

She was going to have to Zaraki him.

Damnit.