AN
Marry Christmas everyone! Boy have I got a present for you. After you check this out, go read the new chapter of No Escape. That's right, a two-fer. This is my present to all of you for being so patient with me. Happy reading!
Disclaimer-I own nothing.
Chapter Twelve
After he returned to the truck, Ichigo drove Rukia home without a word and dropped her off at the curb. He kissed her one more time, a devastating kiss of love and longing... a kiss that was more shattering than any they'd ever shared before.
He was still shaking when he drove off. So was Rukia. Hours later, when she crept out of bed and left Yoruichi a goodbye note, she was still trembling.
And Ichigo was still not home.
Rukia had only one suitcase to pack... all she had to show for her personal life in Karakura. Oh, there were still a few boxes of her books in the garage, but there was nothing that spoke of home.
She drove to the station house at dawn because she could not sleep. She could not bear to lie in bed wondering why Ichigo had not returned. She had no right to expect him to report to her, but she couldn't keep from worrying, either. At least at the station, she could listen to the scanner without alarming Yoruichi. If he was in trouble, she would be the first to hear.
But nothing seemed amiss at the station house. Orihime was chewing on a doughnut and seemed glad to see another human face-even Rukia's. Within an hour, the night shift wandered in. The day people showed up and started to take the cruisers out. They were friendly. They were efficient. They were oblivious.
Not one person seemed to notice that Ichigo Kurosaki had ripped their Captain's heart out by offering to make it whole.
Not once all day did Rukia hear from him. Not a whisper, not a word. She ate breakfast, lunch and dinner at Isane's and lingered there far too long at each meal, but there was no trace of Ichigo. No rumors, no gossip, no casual jokes that featured his name.
She drove past the Uraharas' three diferent times and finally called Yoruichi on the pretense of having left something at the house. When she probed, Yoruichi revealed that she hadn't seen Ichigo either. By nightfall, when Rukia finally forced herself to head to her own cold little house-the haven from Ichigo she'd been so eager to claim-she thought she'd lose her mind.
All her life Rukia had wanted a little house like this. It was red with white shutters, with withered rosebushes poking out of the snow heaped up on either side of the front porch. It was so close to the station house she could walk if she wanted to, but far enough away that she could shut out the world.
But she could not shut out memories of Ichigo.
How could she willingly hide from a man who not only inflamed her with his touch, but loved her enough to push her away when she herself might not have found the strength? How could she run from a man who begged her to marry him? How could she reject a man who made her long to share her life in a way she'd never done before?
Ichigo did not know that she had told him only half the story. He did not know that more than her reputation and her career was involved. Her craving to merge her life with Ichigo's threatened her very essence as a competent human being.
Today was a prime example. Since dawn Rukia had been as fluttery as a schoolgirl in the throes of puppy love; she was not sure she could ever be an iron-hard cop again. Somehow she'd stumbled through her professional responsibilities, but they had all been routine. It wasn't safe for her to be so distracted. It wasn't fair to her men.
Maybe it would be more intelligent to marry Ichigo. Maybe it's the only way to save my career. Maybe it's the only way to put myself back together again. After all, if the whole town thinks I'm sleeping with him anyway...
Rukia knew she was rationalizing, that she was desperate for a way to end her inner torment, desperate for a way to cling to her self-respect when she bowed to the inevitable.
It was almost eight o'clock when she finally turned the key in the door of her new place, dragging her sleeping bag in from the car. You have time to make it feel like home tomorrow, she told herself, bracing herself for the dusty, empty rooms she'd seen last week. She planned to spend Sunday afternoon in Seireitei buying the essentials. Once, she'd eagerly looked forward to decorating a house of her own, but she didn't have the heart for solitary living anymore.
As she unlocked the side door to the kitchen, Rukia suddenly realized she was not alone. She'd walked into a strange, desserted house at night without even loosening the safety catch on her holster! Her mind was so full of Ichigo that she'd forgotten the most basic laws of self-preservation.
She was bracing herself for an attack when she suddenly felt a nudge at her ankle.
Heart pounding, Rukia fumbled against the wall for a light switch. When she flipped it on, she spotted a small brown and white rabbit at her feet. "How on earth did you get in here?" she asked, heart pounding in relief. Granted, she'd always longed for a bunny, but she hadn't expected one to show up like this!
The small rabbit began hopping at her feet. She leaned down and impulsively scooped the small animal into her arms, cuddling it against her chest. "I don't have a thing to feed you, cutie," she cooed to the bunny, "But maybe I can find something."
Rukia went over and opened the nearest cupboard. To her surprise, she found a dozen cans of soup-and bags of candy bars, too. Moving on to the frig, she also found a bag of carrots, and perched inconspicuously on the kitchen table was a small cage, presumably for the rabbit. Placing the rabbit in the cage, she set down a handful of carrots in front of it, taking delight in watching it hop around and consume them. "Well, bunny, I don't know where you came from, or even what I'm going to do with you, but for now I'm calling you Chappy and letting you stay with me."
Looking away from the cute rabbit, Rukia spotted a gleaming pot of lillies perched ontop of the counter surrounded by smaller pots of other assorted flowers. Rukia couldn't begin to imagine how they'd gotten there. None of this sure wasn't around last week when she'd first checked out the house. Just what was going on here?
The only explanation was that somebody had been here since she'd last vissited the house. Somebody had tried to make her empty little house feel like home.
Recalling the sweet note Yoruichi had left her the night she'd moved into the boardinghouse, Rukia rushed to the back bedroom on a hunch. On the way she spotted a half dozen other plants, and old-fashioned furniture that somehow seemed familiar even though she was certain she'd never seen it before. The house had been layered with dust the last time Rukia saw it, but now it was so clean it sparkled.
It was not until she reached the bedroom-and spotted the beautiful old wedding quilt on the bed-that she realized Yoruichi couldn't have moved this furniture here without help. Besides, she couldn't possibly have hidden so much of her own old furniture in her basement. The Uraharas' basement was full of tables and chairs that belonged to Ichigo.
And then Rukia remembered that she'd never told Yoruichi she'd always wanted a bunny. She'd never told her how she felt about plants warming a home.
Rukia fought a rush of tears as she realized what care had gone into this project. Not just time but loving attention to every detail that reflected her personal dream of home. Details she'd told to only one person in Karakura.
The person who could have been waiting here to greet her every night.
Then she saw the note. It was by her nightstand, in the perfect place for her father's picture, right next to a beautiful silver vase with a single red rose.
Rukia picked up the note and read it quickly as she sank down on the bed, unable now to hold back the tears that had battled for release all day.
Dear Bunnyhead,
I left this space empty for your dad's picture. I know that's what will really make you feel at home. Keep the furniture as long as you need it. I hope the bunny will be a good friend to you (please don't name it Chappy!). Now that you're gone, I think I'll be able to keep my distance, if you're still sure that's what you want. But if you ever need a friend, I'm as close as your radio or your phone.
At the bottom of the page was a postscript that caused Rukia to let out a wail of despair before burrying her face in the quilt. In Ichigo's tense, masculine scrawl the tender words were written- "I won't change my mind, Ru, but I won't ask again."
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Ichigo had made arrangements to squire one healthy young Mexican to each of the likely spots where a Mexican burial ground might still lurk beneath a horseshoe of oak trees. But on Monday afternoon, when Chad was scheduled to arrive, he did not come alone.
He walked into the station house beside a denish-clad fellow who looked as though he'd been limping over the earth for about three hundred years. His sun-leathered skin looked as though it had been bronze to start with; his nose was like an ax head planted in the middle of his face. The old man's eyes, the blackest eyes Ichigo had ever seen, were full of compassion, pain and wisdom. His hair was gray and wispy; here and there it stuck straight up on his head. Around his neck he wore a beaded leather pendant.
"Lieutenant," Chad said as Ichigo approached with two men. "This is my Grandfather. He insisted on coming along. He won't get out of the car at each house, but he feels that he'll be able to sense when we're close to the burial ground."
Ichigo wasn't sure what to say. At the moment he had no faith in instincts; his own had told him that Rukia loved him and only needed to be assured that he wanted her for more than a pleasure cruise. Three whole days had passed since he'd battled her desire and his own to let her cling to the illusion that nothing sexual had actually transpired between them. It was a technical distinction, in Ichigo's view. Their touching had been pretty damn intimate! Only Rukia's underwear and Ichigo's self-control had kept them apart. Both had been equally thin.
Dammit, Rukia, I love you so much! I want you to be my wife! he wanted to holler at her. He'd almost gone back to her little house over the weekend to do just that. But he'd already made his feelings painfully clear, and he would not grovel. It was time to accept the fact that Rukia meant what she said. It was not going to be easy to forget his love for her-hell, it was going to be impossible-but somehow he had to learn to do just that.
It took Ichigo a moment to realize that the ancient man was speaking, perhaps had been speaking for quite some time. His voice was low and shaky, slightly accented by his native tongue. Ichigo had to listen closely to follow him.
"If the spirits want us to find the burial ground, they will tell me when we are near it. I am not certain they will tell my grandson. He is not sure he believes."
Ichigo cast a quick glance at Chad, who didn't look pleased with his grandfather's opinion. But Ichigo had the feeling that the old Mexican's assesment was right on target. Chad seemed to be a man torn between two worlds.
"When was the last time you saw this oak horseshoe, sir?" Ichigo asked gently.
The old man shook his head. "I was a boy. I was with my father. I was... lost... when I should have shown it to my son."
Ichigo turned to Chad for a translation. "He left Karakura for seven years," he said, as though that explained it.
"Yasutora's father is lost to us. For a long time, Yasutora was lost to us, too."
Ichigo wasn't sure he wanted to pursue these family secrets, but he was truly curious. What exactly did ?lost" mean? Dead, at least in spirit? Falling apart? Or simply rejecting the Mexican way and happy in the Japanese world?
Someday, if he got the chance to speak to Chad alone, he would ask. It wasn't something he wanted to go into with the old man. It was obvious that the senior man was quite frail, and this afternoon was going to be hard on him.
For the next three hours, Ichigo told the two men everything he knew about the history of the area north of town, drove them to every piece of property that might hide an old burial ground, answered questions about standing trees and trees that had been cut down. It was not until they reached the last of their chosen search areas that the old man straightened and said, "We are near the burial ground. I can feel it."
But they circled the old house for half an hour and never found a single oak. After Chad convinced him they'd done their best, the old man slumped silently in the cruiser.
Ichigo felt like slumping himself by the time he returned to the station house, knowing he'd have to report the day's events to Rukia. He tried to get Chad to talk to her with him-they desperately needed a chaperon-but he was clearly worried about his grandfather, who looked sad and a bit bewildered that the "spirits" had given him a false clue. Chad thanked Ichigo profusely for his time and his kindness, then took the old one home.
The police station door had hardly closed behind them before Nanao said, "Better put on your helmet, Ichigo. The Captain's asked for you three times. Something about paperwork that just won't wait."
He couldn't remember any paperwork that he'd botched up recently, and anyway, he was surprised that Rukia was in a hurry to see him. Considering the way they'd last parted, he wasn't sure it was safe to risk even being in the same room with her.
Deciding to get it over with, Ichigo marched quickly to her office, rapped once on the door and stuck his head inside. Unless Rukia ordered him to close the door, he was going to stay in the hall... or at least keep one hand on the doorknob.
Apparently Rukia had other plans. She stood the moment she spotted him. "Would you come in and close the door, please?"
She was all spit and polish in her uniform today, her braid tight and flat on top of her head. Ichigo remembered how her hair had brushed his face the night he'd nearly made love to her in her room; he remembered how it had slipped loose from its clips Friday night in the truck. He remembered how her full breasts had filled his hands with warmth, how his body had swelled when she'd straddled him, how desperately he'd tried to believe, for the split second she'd given in to him, that she really did love him enough to be his wife.
It was a dream he knew it would be hard to abandon.
"Uh, Nanao said you had some paperwork for me to do," he stalled, hoping she'd just hand him something so he could dart out quickly. He didn't want to stand here, studying her magnificent curves; he didn't want to see the anguish in her eyes or the tension in her forced smile. He didn't want to remember the flush of pasion on her lovely face.
To his surprise, Rukia shook her head, loosening a few enticing wisps at the nape of her neck. "Nanao misunderstood. I've already done all the paperwork in question. I just need for you to sign your name."
Ichigo tried to remember what report would require both of their signatures. He'd already written up his account of Friday night's visit to the Kunas', and he figured Rukia had, too. There was no reason for either of them to add anything to each other's document. The only thing likely to require both signatures was a personnel review or complaint. Rukia had warned him more than once that making a pass at her could cost him his badge. Had she finally decided that he'd gone too far?
Was she actually insulted by his offer of marriage?
"Why do you need my signature, Captain?" he asked carefully, trying not to sound combative.
She gave him a tight, frightened smile, unlike any smile Ichigo had ever seen on Rukia's face before. Then she held up a piece of paper-it didn't look at all like a departmental form-and said shakily, "I got all the other information I needed from your personnel record, but I can't sign your name. I arranged for my own blood test and made an appointment for us at four o'clock Friday at the Seireitei Courthouse. The rest is up to you."
Ichigo was lost. What was she talking about? Blood test? Courthouse? Why was she trembling? Why did she look so scared?
Rukia stayed behind her desk as she faced him, her eyes alert and weary. Then she handed him the form. He read the title three times before reality set in- Application for Marriage License, State of Tokyo.
The blanks were filled in with his name and hers, and other information that was required by the state.
The room seemed to swerve sharply around him. Ichigo felt so dizzy he had to grab hold of the desk.
"Rukia?" He struggled to catch his breath.
Her eyes were huge. "You promised not to change your mind," she whispered. "I thought you really meant it. I thought you were leaving it in my hands."
"Rukia?" he gasped again.
"Please?" This time she sounded as frightened as a child, not at all like the assertive captain who so coolly bossed around the other men. But at the moment he wasn't about to dwell on incongruities, not when a miracle had just occurred in this very room.
Ichigo longed to reach for Rukia's hand or kiss her, but he knew it wasn't an accident that she'd remained on the other side of her giant desk. "You're not jerking my chain? This isn't some kind of a joke? You're sure you want to be my wife?"
She didn't answer his questions. She bit her lip and fought back tears. Her voice was low and haunted when she pleaded, "Ichigo, I don't want to see you alone until then."
"I understand." Until he was sure she wasn't going to pull the rug out from under him again, he didn't want to be alone with her, either. It was a miracle he'd made it this long without making love to her. Now that he knew she truly wanted to marry him, he knew he couldn't hold back if things got steamy again.
"I don't want anyone to know until it's done. Not even your family."
He didn't like that idea-Aunt Yoruichi and his grandmother would never forgive him-but he was not about to argue over a technicality. "I promise, Rukia. Maybe we can have a private family celebration afterward, once we get settled in." When she did not reply, he pressed on, "You want me to live with you? In your little house? At least until we can build-"
"We can worry about these details later. I just wanted to get the basics settled now." Now her tone was clipped. The captain giving orders again.
Ichigo wasn't comfortable with the way the conversation was going. He was still in shock, stunned and overjoyed. And he didn't expeect Rukia to swoon all over him in her office, but he'd never seen a less enthusiastic bride.
"I'm game," he said a bit guardedly, "But I think the basics include a few things we haven't discussed. We're not talking about holing up somewhere for the weekend. We're talking about..." He broke off, watching the uncertainty that still haunted her beautiful face. "Do you really want to be my wife, Rukia, not just my lover? Do you plan to love me for the next sixty years?"
"A hundred and sixty," she whispered, a dozen lifetimes of love shining in her aching violet eyes.
When Rukia fought back a shaky sob, Ichigo forgave her for all the pain she'd caused him.
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
The doctor's appointment on Friday afternoon was over all too soon. Armed with everything she needed to postpone pregnancy, Rukia arrived early for her appointment at the beauty salon, then checked into her hotel. She spent an hour getting ready... soaking in the tub, fussing with her makeup, slipping into brand-new satin undies and a Victorian lace dress with a striking cranberry sash. It said "wedding" all over it, but it wasn't a wedding dress in the classical sense, and she could wear it again. Along with the violets in her hair, it made Rukia feel soft and fragile, stripped of all her thorns.
That pretty much summed up how she'd felt ever since Saturday night, when the bunny reminded her of how cuddly Ichigo could be. She'd only mentioned that bunny once, and she and Ichigo had been at odds most of the time since then. Under the circumstances, it was a miracle that he'd remembered something so special.
It was a miracle that she'd ever resisted him.
By the time Rukia had finished reading his "Dear Bunnyhead" note, she'd realized that she belonged to Ichigo Kurosaki, heart and soul, and a thousand years of sexual denial would never change a thing. She couldn't carry on without him anymore. It was as simple as that.
At least, it seemed that simple until she reached the courthouse at three-thirty to wait... and fret. As the minutes ticked past, Rukia's stomach experimented with all kinds of knots. She reminded herself a dozen times that she was early; there was no reason why Ichigo should arrive ahead of time.
At four o'clock she started to look for him, hopping up from her marble bench to check the steps out front every five minutes. By four-fifteen she started getting nervous, recalling the challenges of parking and traffic jams in downtown Seireitei. By four-twenty she was remembering how heavily the snow had been falling on the road; she was remembering the risk a cop took each and every day and night. By four-twenty-five she'd chewed off all her lipstick and was trying to decide whether she should call Karakura to see if something terrible had happened or consider the possibility that Ichigo had done the unspeakable and changed his mind.
It wasn't impossible. He hadn't-oh, dear God, surely he hadn't been stringing her along right from the start! Was this some sort of bet for the station pool to see which one of the guys would conquer Captain Curvaceous? No, it couldn't be that! He loved her. He wouldn't deceive her! But it was one thing to hope desperately for something you were sure you couldn't have, to ache for a woman you thought you'd never get into bed, and another to marry her. Maybe once Ichigo knew he'd gotten Rukia for life, he'd started having second thoughts. Maybe he was facing up to the challenges of the two-cop marriage, playing second fiddle to his wife on the job. Maybe he didn't want to live with a woman who'd hurt him so much.
Rukia checked outside at four-thirty, then studied herself in a rest-room mirror. She looked white-faced, terrified, ridiculous in her ornate hairdo and exquisite dress. She looked like a debutante, not a cop! How could a woman who looked so frail be a police captain? How could a police captain be a police lieutenant's wife?
Rukia, calm down! she ordered herself as she returned to the lobby feeling weak and frazzled. You're over thinking things. Everything will be okay when Ichigo shows up. Every bride falls apart at the last minute. This is what's supposed to happen.
The elderly clerk at the window gave her a sympathetic smile when Rukia asked if there had been a message, then asked if she'd see if the judge could wait.
Rukia was starting to tremble by then. It was four-thirty-five. "I'll wait for him a few minutes longer," she said, ashamed that her cheeks were turning pink.
With rising panic, she checked the front steps again, trying to remember what Ichigo had said in her office the last time they'd talked, trying to remember the love in his eyes the last time she'd seen his rugged face.
At four-forty-five the clerk told her they had to start closing up for the day. For the weekend. Was there someone she could call? Anything at all she could do to help?
Rukia thanked the clerk for her kindness, then headed for the courthouse steps, feeling like a tiny cork in a wind-tossed sea. She had never felt so foolish, so helpless, so alone. Was Ichigo dead? Was he injured? Had he blatantly stood her up?
She couldn't think; she could take no action. Was this what her life would be like when she married him? Would she be angry with him one minute, terrified the next? Totally dependent on one man for happiness and peace of mind? It was crazy! Even if Ichigo still wanted her-oh, God, what would she do if he didn't still want her?-how could she carry on this way? If she had a police emergency in this state of mind, could she perform her duty without making a fool of herself? Or worse yet, endangering the lives of her men?
Rukia desperately wanted to be Ichigo's adoring wife and hard-as-nails Captain Kuchiki, but she was afraid she could never be both women in the same life.
AN
That's right, a sort of cliffhanger. Just what will happen between Ru and Ichi? Will they ever be truly happy? Tune in later to find out. I know some of you might be mad at me for this ending, but just remember this is a cheery Holiday, and also you still have that No Escape chapter to read. Bye-bye now! And please review as always.