To Love A Warrior

by shirayuki55

AU Ichigo Kurosaki is the respected Police Lt. of his town, so it's only natural that he would expect the job of captain once the old chief retires. But, nobody factored in Rukia Kuchiki, a mysterious woman who steals the job right from under him. Sparks fly as they clash over their differing personalities and bad impressions,but will the fire between them turn into something mor

7. Chapter 7

AN

Happy Weekend everyone! I just want to start out here by giving a big fat shout-out to Teshichan, Irishmate, and LyfeIzmymuzik. You guys really rock! Thanks so much for your awesome reviews! Thanks to all of you! Anyway, you fluff and drama lovers are going to adore this Chap. I know I do! Oh and by the way, the party will take place in the next Chapter.

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

Chapter Seven

Rukia came home around seven on Monday night, dragging her feet like lead weights as she picked up her mail, greeted Yoruichi and Kisuke, and headed up the stairs. She'd had a long day and her physical energy wasn't quite back up to par, but she knew that wasn't what was weighing her down. It was a long time since she'd come down with love-a far more virulent dease than strep throat-but not so long that she'd forgotten the symptoms. A curious buoyancy combined with an equally curious tendency to despair. A certain tenderness that made her too sensitive to the joys and pains of life, even when it wasn't so close to Christmas. Quiet surges of joy whenever the man in question came into the room; not-so-quiet surges of need whenever he accidentally touched her.

Rukia hadn't fallen flat on her face yet, but as she flipped through the day's incoming Christmas cards, she had to admit that she was leaning that way as fast as her heart could carry her. Even now, dreading their impending confrontation, she couldn't deny that her pulse was picking up speed as she heard the TV blaring and realized that Ichigo was waiting for her in her room. He'd set up his old black-and-white set for her during her illness and hadn't moved it yet. Several times they'd stayed up late and watched old movies, munching popcorn and giggling like kids. Rukia had loved sharing those times with Ichigo, oblivious to the fact that he'd betrayed her.

Now she sorely regretted the trust she'd placed in him. Kaien Shiba's call this afternoon had been a real eye-opener, one that made her see Ichigo's recent friendliness in a whole different light.

In hindsight, Rukia marveled that he'd beguiled her into agreeing to go to that Christmas party with him-it was too late to get out of it now-and she marveled that she'd almost convinced herself that it didn't really count as a date. It was not a mistake she could afford to make again.

"Hi, Ru," Ichigo greeted her cheerfully as she marched into the room. Shoeless, he was lying on her bed-not slouched over the end, but propped up with a pair of pillows on top of her bunny comforter as though he belonged there. He wore what he usually did at home-a pair of jeans, a sweat-shirt and a sexy five o'clock shadow. Rukia knew his habits so well by now that she could tell just by looking at his face how many hours had passed since he'd last shaved.

She stared at him for a long, sad moment before she coolly declared, "I need to talk to you before you leave my room."

Ichigo sat up at once. "Trouble downtown?"

She did not try to smile. "You might say that."

"You look a little peaked, Ru. Why don't you sit down?"

"I would be happy to if you'd be so kind as to get off my bed."

Ichigo's lips tightened at her unsubtle rebuke, but he didn't speak as he rose and turned off the set. Slowly he walked to the bathroom door-the route he always took to his room-and waited for her to continue, his posture a fair imitation of parade rest.

Rukia took the spot he'd vacated on her bed-it was still warm with the feel of him-but she sat tensely on the edge of the mattress. "I got a call from Kaien Shiba today," she announced bluntly.

"Kaien Shiba?" To Rukia's surprise, Ichigo didn't look guilty or ashamed. He sounded tense-and surely not!-almost jealous. "This is... an old friend?" The word friend was laced with innuendo.

"My dearest friend," Rukia clarified. "My former partner. The one whose life I once saved." Instinctively she rubbed the scar on her left shoulder that was proof of her courage under fire. "I'm surprised the name doesn't ring a bell with you, Ichigo. Surely you've encountered it a dozen times during your background check of Rukia Kuchiki."

That was when the color drained from his face. His gaze dropped to the floor. For a long, tense moment he said nothing. Any hope she might have had that Kaien's information had been inaccurate died right then and there.

"I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I might have a single loyal friend in the whole Seireitei sub station, did it, Ichigo? Imagine a cop being loyal to me instead of you!" Her anger was starting to push aside the pain. "Surprise, Lieutenant Kurosaki! Did you really think word wouldn't get back to me?"

At last Ichigo's eyes met Rukia's. He looked embarrassed but not ashamed. "I took a chance, Rukia. I was not as discret as possible, but it's inevitable in this sort of background check that sooner or later the subject gets wind of it. If you'd just let me explain-"

"Explain? Why, Lieutenant, I may be slow but I'm not stupid! You never made up any excuses about the fact that you wanted my job. First you tried to intimidate me, and when that didn't work you bamboozled me with your good looks and your pseudokindness. You took care of me when I was sick. You pretended to be my friend!" Rukia stood up and took a grim step in his direction. "What a pity you couldn't find any dirt to help you overthrow me while I was off balance. Are you planning to manufacture some?"

"Dammit, Rukia, if I'd wanted to overthrow you, I didn't need to make anything up!" His square jaw jutted out as he swore his innocence. "The men were ready to hang you in effigy the first week you got here, but I quelled every hint of revolt. Ask any one of them! Recently I've been more friendly-" now those amber eyes begged her to believe him "-because I thought we truly had become friends."

Rukia refused to be seduced by his fake sincerity. "I have no need for friends who stab me in the back, Lieutenant."

"I didn't stab you in the back, Rukia! I just tried to gather some background information! I wanted to know what kind of woman we were dealing with. I needed to know if you were someone we could trust!"

"Well, now you know!" She was yelling almost hysterically now and she couldn't stop it. "You're dealing with a woman who holds her own under fire! You're dealing with a woman who rarely makes the same mistake twice! You're dealing with a woman who never forgets when she's been crossed!"

"I'm dealing with a woman who's letting her own pride blind her from the truth!" he growled. "If you ever cool off long enough to listen to the real reason I had you checked out, Rukia, I'll be more than happy to tell you! In the meantime, I'm going downstairs to catch the rest of the game."

"Lieutenant!" she called out before he could march through the bathroom door. "Don't you want to know the results of my secret investigation?" As he stopped, turned around and faced her gravely, she thrust the knife home. "Don't you want to know what I found out about you?"

Ichigo had looked grim before, but he looked positively devastated now. Rukia had hoped to take him by surprise, but suddenly her victory seemed small and petty. He'd said there was a reason he'd betrayed her, implied it was one she could forgive. In spite of everything, Rukia found herself longing to believe him.

"I have no other secrets, Rukia," Ichigo said wearily, looking as depressed as she felt. He ran a hand through his wild orange hair. "I do have some curiosity, though, as to why you were paranoid enough to feel a background check on me was necessary."

Rukia hated the feeling of distance between them, but she didn't dare move any closer. "I'm not the one who ordered the investigation on you, Ichigo," she told him truthfully, holding her ground in the center of the room. "Commander Zaraki ordered me to gather information pertinent to a possible police coverup."

He stared at her blankly. "A coverup of what?"

"Of the truth about the body found in the lake."

Ichigo's mouth fell open. He looked shellshocked.

"Zaraki felt that Ukitake was dragging his feet," Rukia explained a bit more gently, "And you were his right-hand man. You'd almost become his son-in-law. Zaraki hoped you were just following orders without knowing what might be at stake, but he didn't dare put you at the helm if there was any chance you might willingly be conspiring to sidestep your official duties."

Ichigo visibly reeled. "Oh, my, god!"

"He couldn't pick anybody else who was eligible because they were all men with some connection to Karakura cops or citizens. I, on the other hand, have had to do battle everywhere I've been assigned." Of course, Rukia thought back grimly, that hadn't stopped Zaraki from telling her rather harshly before she'd left for her new job that if she "bitched" about being mistreated he'd remove her in the blink of an eye. Sighing inwardly she said to him with a bit of bitterness in her voice, "Over the years you've collected friends while I've collected enemies."

Ichigo was leaning against the doorway now, as if for support. "I thought you got the job because you were kissing up to somebody at the top," he raggedly confessed. "In the beginning, I mean. Once I got to know you, I knew there had to be some other reason, but I couldn't figure out what it could be."

"Join the club, Lieutenant," Rukia retorted, a hint of bitterness still present in her tone. "I've been accused of sleeping with somebody each and every time I've been promoted! The truth of the matter is that I've never so much as kissed another officer!"

"Rukia, I know you'd never-"

"You're right that I wouldn't have been chosen over Karakura's native son under normal circumstances," she plowed on, "But I worked damn hard for my Captaincy and I'm not stepping aside for you now that I've got it, Ichigo! Make no mistake about that."

For a moment Ichigo seemed to be having trouble breathing. His pain and shock were difficult for Rukia to bear.

"I can't believe it." His tone was numb. "I lost my promotion because Jushiro is getting old and soft?"

"I don't think Jushiro's age had anything to do with it. He goes back a long way with Seno Kuna, and I think he dragged his feet a bit. Not enough to be convicted of obstructing justice, just enough to keep Seno's old scars from being paraded around in the light of day."

Ichigo shook his head. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he pleaded, "Don't muddy Jushiro's name over this, Rukia! I beg you! All he's guilty of is having different priorities than yours. If he'd ever found any evidence to implicate Seno in his wife's death, I swear to you, he would have brought him in."

"I don't know that for sure, Ichigo. Neither do you. But I can't prove that he tampered with any evidence, and frankly, I think he just hoped that if he kept his people busy with other tasks, the pressure to identify a long-dead body would eventually fade. I put all my facts and suspicions in my report. The rest is up to Commander Zaraki." Belatedly it struck Rukia that Ichigo seemed a lot more concerned about his former chief than about his own fate. "Don't you want to know what I said about you?"

He straightened then, and tensely met her eye to eye. "I know what you said about me, Rukia. If you hadn't cleared me to your satisfaction, you wouldn't be divulging all of this. You'd be finding ways to torpedo our friendship. You'd be pushing me away."

"I am pushing you away!" she snapped. "You betrayed me, Ichigo! You pretended to be my friend! If you think-"

Suddenly his virile face was an inch away from hers. One large male hand was gripping her arm. It was a warm and compelling hand, strong and forgiving. The male body that pressed in close simmered with anger and regret... and made Rukia simmer with feelings she knew she had to forget. Why, out of all the men in the world, did she have to respond so potently to this one? Why did he wound her with his fury and gentle her with his pain? Why did she make resolution after resolution where he was concerned, only to find herself magnetized by his touch again?

Suddenly Rukia couldn't remember why she was mad at Ichigo. She couldn't even remember why she had to stay away from him. "I never faked my feelings for you, Ru," he vowed in a voice that was dark and low. "When I hated you, I let you know it. When I started to like you, I let you know that, too. I had my reasons for checking you out-honorable reasons-and if I had it to do over, I'd do it all again. Hate me if you want, but I'm telling you the truth." His grip tightened, kneading Rukia's skin in a way that called all of her female senses to full alert. "With Ichigo Kurosaki, what you see is what you get."

On that note he dropped her arm and stomped out through the bathroom. Rukia listened tensely for him to pound down the stairs to catch the rest of the football game, but she didn't hear him leave his room. She wondered if he was waiting for her to rush through the bathroom doors and apologize. She wondered if it might be the right thing to do.

Rukia glanced down at her uniform and remembered vaguely that nothing meant more to her than being a cop. She turned back to her father's picture by the bed and waited for his memory to tell her she'd made her old man proud. But tonight Ichigo's accusations were so loud that they drowned out her father's compliments. It was hard to recall the lessons he'd taught her when Ichigo was in the room.

For the past week or so they'd practically lived like roommates sharing an apartment, leaving their adjoining doors open as they passed back and forth freely during the course of the day. With Ichigo on Rukia's bed watching television, the Uraharas' boardinghouse had felt like home.

Now it was just a place to pass the night. A lonely rented room.

Rukia was trying to deal with her latest broken dream when she spotted the small red-and-green box on top of the TV. Taped to the bottom of it was a tag in the shape of a snowman that said, "Merry Christmas from Ichigo to Bunnyhead-Open NOW!"

Sick with the memory of how they'd parted, Rukia remembered his last words- With Ichigo Kurosaki, what you see is what you get. Her Captain's mind was still suspicious, but her woman's heart knew he was telling the truth. The real Ichigo Kurosaki had brought her something for Christmas. The real Ichigo Kurosaki had lovingly nursed her when she was sick. The real Ichigo Kurosaki had a legitimate reason for starting an inquiry on her background.

Quickly she tore open the package, surprised at what she found inside. It was a handmade ornament for the Christmas tree, exquisitely fashioned out of fabric scraps and felt. The figure was a cute little girl with midlength raven-black hair and a black uniform complete with a holly-shaped badge that said Kuchiki. Lovingly shaped wings sprouted from her back and a tiny hanger for the tree hung from her miniature halo.

It was the first Christmas present Rukia had received this year... the first ornament she'd owned since her father's death. She knew it wasn't a last-minute gift or a deliberate bribe. Ichigo had been looking straight into her heart when he'd asked somebody to make this angel cop.

A moment later Rukia found herself darting through the two bathroom doors into Ichigo's room, not bothering to knock. When she found him staring glumly out the window, she flew across the room, threw both arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

Her kiss was so quick, so spontaneous, Rukia didn't just surprise Ichigo, she surprised herself. When his arms came around her, she tried to step back, but it was too late to escape from his powerful embrace. After keeping herself so sternly at a distance from this man who always aroused her most sensual feelings, she realized that she'd inadvertently placed herself in danger.

"Thank you, Ichigo," Rukia whispered, hoping he'd believe her apologetic display of affection was purely platonic. "She's adorable!"

For a moment Ichigo simply stared at Rukia. Then one of his hands slipped up to cradle her head. "So are you," he answered, his voice still low but not at all angry now. "I wanted you to have some new memories of Christmas, Rukia. That's one of the reasons I invited you to the party."

But that's not the only one, the voice of prudence warned Rukia. She knew she had to break away from him right now. Right now, their embrace was still platonic, but they were both leaning in another direction and the tiniest breeze of attraction would be enough to blow them over. Rukia struggled to escape-all she had to do was step away-but her whole body seemed to be trapped in Ichigo's undertow.

His compelling eyes were commanding her to kiss him, and not on the cheek this time. Rukia tried to remember why she could not take the risk, but no reasons came to mind. It felt so natural, so beautifully right to melt into his arms at this moment. After the past few dark hours, she suddenly felt secure and happy and deliriously warm. She could not imagine a more natural and wonderful sensation than the feel of Ichigo's lips against hers. She could not remember why she believed that later, when she could think again, she would be desperately sorry if she let it happen.

But her safety as an officer often depended on sheer instinct. A cop frequently had to make survival choices in the blink of an eye. If Rukia had walked into a shoot-out, she would have ducked when the bullets started fllying. Instinctively, she tried to duck Ichigo now.

"I'm sorry I had to keep my investigation secret, Ichigo," she blurted out, hoping that such a dark topic would defuse the increasingly erotic mood between them. "I was just doing my job. I was being a good cop."

Undeterred, Ichigo's hands slipped up and down her back in what might have been a platonic massage. But there was nothing platonic about Rukia's response, especially when she imagined those fingers a little lower than the base of her spine. "I know you were, Rukia. I don't hold it against you. If anything, it makes me respect you even more."

Rukia knew she had to get away. What a fool she must be to get herself trapped in this desperate situation. Ichigo was talking like a friend but his hands inflamed her like a lover's. If she didn't escape from him this instant, she knew it would be too late.

"Tell me why you sicced your cronies on me, Ichigo," she challenged him in desperation. "Tell me why you tried to ruin my life!"

"I didn't try to ruin you, Rukia!" To Rukia's relief-and unaccountable sorrow-Ichigo suddenly dropped his hands and turned away.

"If I'd been the only one involved, I would have covered my own back and taken my chances. But I owed it to the other men to be sure of you!" There was no hint of seduction now as he whispered, "Dammit, Ru, don't you see? I owed it to Uryu!"

Reeling from the abrupt mood shift, Rukia told herself that she was glad Ichigo hadn't really betrayed her, glad he clung to such loyalty to his late partner, glad that she'd escaped from his mesmerizing hands.

But her body still quivered with yearning... where he had touched her and where he had not.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Ichigo was glad to find Rukia waiting in the car when he joined his aunt and uncle for a trip to Karakura's frozen lake on Saturday afternoon. Yoruichi had been working on her all week, insisting that she needed some time off, and Ichigo had seconded his aunt's motion. He'd privately told Rukia that he'd think she was still mad at him if she didn't come along, and though he was quite sure she saw through his blatant manipulation, she'd finally agreed to come, anyway.

He really did want some playtime with Rukia. Ahem, funtime, he meant funtime. He missed watching TV with her in the evening or sharing a midnight snack. On the surface they had mended their fences, but ever since the day she'd gotten that call from Kaien Shiba, she'd seemed skittish about having Ichigo in her room.

She hadn't tried to back out of their date to the party, though, even though he was sure she wanted to. Rukia always referred to it as "Attending the Christmas get-together with the Uraharas," and acted as though Ichigo was just tagging along as Yoruichi's nephew. The little angel cop never made it down to the Christmas tree, but he'd noticed that it was hanging from her father's picture in her room.

Ichigo had planned to play hockey with his old gang this afternoon, but after a half hour or so he asked Toshiro to fill in for him as goalie, and he joined Rukia on the other side of the ice. She had warned him she couldn't skate worth beans, and by now he knew she'd been telling the truth. Ice skating seemed to be the one thing Rukia Kuchiki couldn't do.

Ichigo slid toward her effortlessly, bringing himself up short while she wobbled in surprise, then grabbed his arm to steady herself. "Whoa, girl! What would you say to some remedial tutoring?"

She grimaced. "That obvious, huh?"

"Plain as day, bunnyhead. Weren't you ever a kid?"

Apologetically she answered, "Well, I did learn to ride a bike. It was the fastest way to run my father's dinner down to the station house."

Whenever she mentioned her father, there was an ache in Rukia's voice that wounded Ichigo. He knew from personal experience that her memories were getting harder to handle the closer she got to Christmas.

"I bet he was damn proud of you," he said gently.

To his surprise, she blinked rapidly, almost as though she were fighting tears. "Well, he was certainly proud the day I graduated from the police academy. He wasn't around to see much after that."

Ichigo waited for the test. He'd asked questions about her dad before, but she'd never given him many details. Now he sensed she was ready to share more of her past with him.

"His partner was a good man, but it didn't make any difference. They went down together. A pimp on speed."

There had been a time when her terse expression would have fooled Ichigo into thinking that she had no feelings. But he knew better now. That tight mask of control she often wore at work did not come to her naturally. The colder she sounded, the more she was probably hurting.

"I'm sorry, Ru," he said, trying to console her. "I won't pretend to know exactly how you feel, but... I've been there. The hurt doesn't go away, but you sort of learn to live with it in time."

She licked her lips. "You know how you kept everything of your parents? Furniture and Christmas ornaments and everything?"

Ichigo nodded.

"I did just the opposite. I couldn't bear to sit in father's chair or see Christmas ornaments that had hung on his tree. I sold what I could and gave the rest away. Ever since then I've just rented furnished places." She looked almost sheepish. "I've got a healthy savings account, but I don't own a single piece of furniture."

"But you do have a Christmas ornament," he reminded her gently, rejoicing in the fact that his instincts had been keen enough to realize how much she'd needed it. "Maybe it's time to start some new memories, Rukia. Time to come out of mourning."

She nodded, but she didn't look very certain. "Well, I am planning to buy a house once I get settled in better at the station. You were right, you know, when you said I couldn't live my whole life on duty. I think maybe that's what I've been trying to do. It's time I had a place worth coming home to." At last she smiled. "I want a pet bunny and a pot of lillies in every room."

Ichigo grinned. "Hey, you don't have to wait until you buy a house to start making your room a bit more homey." You only have to wait a few more days, he added silently as he started planning some more Christmas surprises for her. "I'm not sure how Aunt Yoruichi would feel about a bunny, but you could at least get a nice plant right away."

Rukia's broadening smile warmed him inside and out. Suddenly Ichigo was acutely aware that she was still clinging to his arm, even though she had long since stabilized her position. He had an odd, gratifying feeling that she was leaning on him for more than physical support.

As he remembered what she'd told him about her mother, Ichigo realized that Rukia's life had always been pretty austere. She'd never lived in a normal family with a loving man and woman who shared babies or anything else. Her father had been everything to her, and her father had been married to the badge. Was it any wonder she'd made the same choice?

Was it any wonder nobody had ever taught her how to skate. How to laugh? How to love?

I'm going to teach her everything and more, a voice within him vowed. With Rukia fighting their growing intimacy, it wasn't going to be easy, but Ichigo was a determined man.

His hopes rose when Rukia pressed closer, ostensibly to get a better grip on his arm. As she brushed against his thigh, he thought about the last time she'd been so close... when she'd kissed his cheek and, for one exquisite moment, had let him hold her in his arms.

Suddenly he felt off center, uneasy, too big for the front of his jeans. This was no time to be aroused! He didn't dare risk embarrassing Rukia publicly. When the time was finally right to let her know just how much he cared for her, he'd be damn certain that she was in the right mood.

"I think it would help if you'd shift your weight from one leg to the other, really glide," he told her quickly, determined to end their back-and-forth before he got into trouble. "Then the motion is smoother, and you can get up some speed."

"Speed?" She laughed, a truly beautiful sound that rang through the crisp, piny air and seemed to add sparkle to the sunlight on the ice. "Ichigo, I can hardly stay upright holding still!"

"Oh, come on! Where's your sense of adventure? Give me your hand and I'll be your rudder until you get the hang of it."

For a moment her face grew quite still, and he waited, expecting her to tell him she couldn't possibly hold his hand in public, even for such a prosaic reason. But when she glanced at the other townsfolk-some doing figures, some whooping it up in the hockey game-she was apparently reassured by what she saw. "If you think you can stand working with such a slow student, Ichigo, God knows I could use the help."

"I won't argue with you there." He took her hand-or rather, his glove found her mitten-as they began to skate in slow, careful stretches. Rukia trudged along clumsily, courageously, making him feel curiously protective of her. He wanted to teach her how to have fun with a family or play with a friend. He wanted to make up for her father's death and her mother's abandonment.

He wanted to sleep in her room tonight. Ichigo nipped that fantasy in the bud, but not soon enough to keep his jeans from getting even tighter.

He put one arm around Rukia as she nestled against his side, wobbling and lurching on her skates. "There must be a trick to this I'm missing," Rukia complained after she'd accidentally nicked his ankle with a sharp blade. "I'm usually not this clumsy! I won some awards for track in school and I was always good in gymnastics!"

"You have to relax, Ru. Just let go."

She rolled her eyes. "If I let go, I'll fall over!"

"I didn't mean letting go of me," Ichigo said with a laugh. "I mean let go of the tension, the need to control. Let me get you rolling here. Just loosen up and put yourself in my hands."

He realized too late, it was the wrong thing to say. He felt tension rocket through her body... a flash of arousal once again echoing around in his own. So far he'd been holding her in a perfectly platonic fashion, but he couldn't seem to conceal the fact that his fantasies were moving along more sensual lines.

Apparently Rukia's thoughts were moving in the same direction. Her eyes met his with an unspoken reprimand as she replied unsteadily, "I'm not so sure this was a good idea, Ichigo. I tend to do better on my own."

While Ichigo mutely cursed himself, Rukia pulled her hand loose and started to skate away from him. Her rough, jerky takeoff barely got her launched before she started to careen, lurching back toward Ichigo for help. At once he reached out to catch her, but he was too late.

Rukia fell toward him at an odd angle that made it hard for him to break her fall. She crashed through his arms, but caught one knee going down, pulling his leg out from under him. A moment later they were both laid out flat on the ice.

As Ichigo slammed onto the frozen pond, inwardly cursing, he recalled the last time Rukia had toppled him on his back with an audience. At least this time she'd gone down, too. And this time, she was on top of him.

Acutely aware of the warmth of her female body-aware of each delicate, womanly curve-he held his breath and tried not to move until she could roll off him. The force of her impact had inflamed his already heightened senses, and her nearness was now loudly reminding him of the warnings he'd ignored before.

While Ichigo did his damnedest to still his throbbing passion, he suddenly felt a frozen female hand touch his throat. Somehow Rukia had pulled off her mitten. She was taking his pulse.

"Ichigo?" she begged him, her voice hoarse and low. She sounded frightened, the way she had when she'd first heard Marechiyo Omaeda was injured. But there was something else in her tone that he knew he hadn't heard before. She said his name almost like a prayer. "Ichigo, tell me you're all right!"

He opened his eyes at once, stunned and touched by her concern. "Rukia, I'm fine," he whispered, so eager to soothe her that he almost forgot the need for caution. "I probably broke my shoulder, and my reputation as an athlete is shot to hell, but other than that-"

He stopped abruptly as he saw the look on Rukia's face. Her beautifully curved mouth was only a few inches away from his own, and her eyes were full of fear that was changing, as he watched, to unmitigated joy.

"Thank god!" she whispered.

Instinctively, unknowingly, Ichigo cradled her face with his good hand. Her skin was soft and smooth. She smelled like soap and sunshine. "I'm tough as a rhino, bunnyhead. It would take a lot more than the world's clumsiest skater to leave me at death's door."

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling openly in relief. She still lay on top of him, her body so close to his that her sweet breath warmed his face and her thighs pressed against his own.

It took all of Ichigo's strength of will not to move erotically against her. He had an eerie feeling that Rukia was fighting some powerful instincts, too.

"You're so incredibly strong, Ichigo. It never occurred to me that I could knock you down."

"You've done it before," he reminded her.

Rukia shook her head, causing a chunk of raven-black hair to spill loose from its lacy band. A few silky strands feathered his face and tugged at his heart. "That was on purpose. This was a mistake."

The moment the words were out, Ichigo realized that falling down wasn't the only mistake Rukia had made. She still hadn't moved. Their bodies were lodged ever so intimately together, and his hand was still caressing her face.

He wanted her. He wanted her with a heat that all but left him speechless, a heat that he could no longer deny. And though Ichigo knew she would die before she admitted it, he was certain that Rukia wanted him, too.

The sight of him "Wounded", even the fear of it, had rocked her to the core. Even now, assured of his well-being, she couldn't seem to hurry to her feet, didn't even seem to realize that he was ready to kiss her as she straddled him atop the ice.

"Bunnyhead?" Ichigo queried softly, unable to hide his own urgency. His fingers splayed across her cheek; his thumb erotically stroked her delicate jaw. When she licked her lower lip and met his eyes with unbanked need, he dipped his fingers deep into her hair and pulled her closer, breathing her name in a wordless moan.

But Ichigo's lips did not find Rukia's. At the last second, she closed her eyes and turned her face away.

While he reeled from the rejection, Ichigo tensed for her rebuke. How could he have forgotten they were surrounded by people, even for a second? Rukia would never forgive him for such a bald faux pas.

But when Rukia tugged his hand away from her hair, there was nothing angry or arrogant about the gesture. She was silent as her small fingers closed around his palm, kneading his skin for a tense, hungry moment. Ichigo could have sworn she was caressing him.

For a long, heart-stopping moment, the strong woman who'd rejected Ichigo's kiss clung to his hand, her legs all but intwined with his. By the time she shakily found her feet, Rukia's silence already told Ichigo everything she could not say.

AN

Just a few things before you go. First off, how funny is it that a person with an ice Zanpakuto apparently can't ice skate? Also, when I picked Rukia's nickname I was thinking of going with Ruki, but Ru sounded better to me. Finally, if anyone's noticed, I've fixed Ichigo's eye color from brown to amber. Being the blind girl that I am, I don't know the difference, but I've been told it's a big deal. So, sorry for that error. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this Chap, and as always, please review.