Author's Note: WOAH. No idea what happened there! That was craziness. Here's the real version! Also, please be warned that the next chapter is very intense.

The morning was just as it always in. They wandered into the locker room at quarter to five. They drank their coffee, ate their breakfast, changed into their scrubs. Momo smiled cheerfully at her sleepy colleagues as she jammed her cute, knee-length blue dress into her locker. She was made for formal events. They were always romantic, always so mystical. Of course, she didn't think that dancing with Shuuhei was going to be very romantic, but it was a start, right? At least she'd be able to gush over some of the, er, real couples.

"Rukia! Where's your dress?" Momo cried. Rukia was trudging into the locker room, coffee in-hand, grumpy as ever, still in her slippers.

"I'm not going," she asserted, digging her scrubs out of her locker. "I grew up a Kuchiki. Formal functions are terrible and bring back memories I'd rather not relive. I'm on Quick Response with.. Dr. Yamada, Dr. Schiffer, Dr. Yasutora, and Dr. Kurotsuchi," she shrugged.

Momo pouted. "But Rukia! It won't be the same if you're not there! What if you're someone's Cinderella?" She asked, hands on her chest.

"Not like I'd want to date any of the doctors here."

"She's just jealous," Renji teased, further ruffling her bed head as he walked by, suit draped over his arm.

"You haven't told us who you're going with," Rukia insisted. "I think he's faking having a date."

"I think he is, too," Shuuhei deadpanned. "Who'd wanna date that ugly mu- hey! Watch the hair!" Shuuhei smoothed his hand over his head following a swift slap from Renji.

"Just you wait," Renji shrugged.

The door slammed open and Dr. Ishida stared at his interns. "Alright, kids. Let's get this over with before the real torture begins." He couldn't help but crack a smile. "We're doing pre-ops, post-ops, and monitoring today. Except for Dr. Hinamori. You're with Dr. Hitsugaya in the ER. The Gala starts at six. If any of you, with the exception of Dr. Kuchiki, try to skip out, you will not see the inside of the OR for months. If I have to put on a show for the board, so do you."

Everyone muttered in agreement. Izuru, however, raised his hand meekly.

"Yes, Dr. Kira?"

"...If you had to pick dating Dr. Ichimaru or Dr. Otoribashi, who would you pick?"

No answer came. All Uryuu was able to do was raise his brows. Part of him wanted to ask.. But he knew better. Years of being surrounded by the.. People in this hospital had taught him better.

"Rounds are starting."

The five interns followed Dr. Ishida to a room that was familiar only to Rukia. The lights were already on. Kaien Shiba sat up in his bed as the doctors donned gowns and gloves. A bulky blue vest was strapped around his chest, vibrating violently while he sucked obediently on the mouthpiece of his morning inhaled antibiotic.

"Morning, Dr. Ishida," he grumbled, voice heavily distorted by the force of the vest's vibration.

"Good morning, Kaien," he greeted, matching his patient's lack of enthusiasm. "Dr. Kuchiki, care to present?"

She nodded. "Kaien Shiba. Thirty. Mr. Shiba suffers from Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic condition which causes the overproduction of thick mucus that affects the pancreas, intestines, and especially the lungs."

Kaien interrupted her presentation with a coughing fit that rivaled that of most smokers. It ended with the production of a good tablespoon of mucus, which he spat into a cup and handed to Dr. Ishida.

"...Charming," Dr. Ishida gave a fake smile, placing the cup on a nearby table. "Anyone care to tell me why it's a good thing that Mr. Shiba is hacking up disgusting amounts of mucu- put your hand down, Kaien."

Renji spoke up. "Less mucus, more lung function? Less bacteria trapped in the lungs?"

Uryuu nodded. "Excellent. Now, Mr. Shiba is awaiting a double lung transplant. We are trying to keep him in prime shape for such a procedure, but his kidney function and the infection he is fighting is making it quite difficult. Dr. Kuchiki, you'll monitor him for the day, keep an ear out for UNOS?"

Rukia winced as Kaien began another coughing fit, this time clutching a bedpan. "By his side, all day," she agreed, trying not to respond to the sounds of retching.

It was not a good time to be a sympathetic vomiter.

"Looks great, doesn't it?" Dr. Urahara opened the door to the cafeteria. It had been closed for the Gala, and hosed down in streamers and balloons. "Silver and black. Classy and versatile, don't you think?"

Dr. Kurosaki's brow shot up. "If you say so," he muttered. "Wait, why are you overseeing decoration detail? That doesn't seem like something that the Chief of Orthopedic Surgery would handle."

Grimmjow smirked. "Someone's lining up for the shot is what's happening. Yamamoto's getting old. He thinks that if he puts on a good party for the Board, he'll score Chief of Surgery points when Yamamoto finally gets put out to pasture, right?"

"...In better words."

Grimmjow smirked in triumph. Ichigo looked confused.

"You want to be Chief of Surgery? What about my Fellowship?" he demanded. Grimmjow seemed to realize where this was going.

"Yeah! What about mine?"

Urahara chuckled. "Easy, children. Yamamoto isn't prepared to retire yet. There's some life in him yet. I promised you two Fellowships, and you shall receive. You just have to learn to trust."

"Easier said than done," Ichigo scoffed.

The three of them went silent as the door swung open. Uryuu walked by casually, nose in the air as he approached Ichigo.

"My tie is blue and white," he stated, matter-of-fact. Ichigo looked confused.

"Mine's, uh.. Orange?"

Uryuu looked offended. "Jeagerjaques. What color is your tie?"

"Black and blue?"

"Trade with him," he insisted before turning and taking his leave.

Ichigo was dumbfounded. Grimmjow was confused. Urahara was amused.

"What just happened?"

"I'm pretty sure you're Ishida's bitch," Grimmjow offered. "You know, you two have been doing this for what, two years? Just make it official, shit. This pussyfooting around is just making you look weird. People get married in less time."

Urahara hummed in agreement. It was amusing, though, watching their relationship grow and change. It had started with a one-sided crush on Dr. Ishida's part. Ichigo was notoriously dense. It wasn't until Dr. Ishida had kissed him after a surgery did he even realize that he'd been making heart-eyes at him for months. They were awkward young men, but it was clear that they cared fiercely about one another.

"So you think I should ask him to marry me?"

The tone in Ichigo's voice wiped the smiles off of Grimmjow and Urahara's faces.

"No?" Grimmjow grimaced. "You're not even dating in the public eye. You can't be fucking serious."

Ichigo wasn't paying any attention. "Yeah.. thanks," he said, far-away and distracted as he jogged out the door.

"...Nice going, dumbass," Urahara teased in sing-song.

Grimmjow threw his hands up. "You know, it's his fucking funeral. If he wants to commit relationship suicide, that's his fault. Don't give me that look. Sto- oh, fuck you," he sneered before taking off after Ichigo.

Urahara whistled in innocence, shaking some balloons apart and adjusting a napkin on a table.

This was going to be the best goddamned Gala ever.

Sundown came and the lights went dim. Bodies filtered into the cafeteria, taking places at tables with their friends or their dates. Momo was the first of the interns at the party, looking hopeful and excited in her flouncy blue skirt and sensible black heels.

"So they dragged you here, too?" Dr. Hitsugaya asked, filling a cup with punch.

"Oh, nobody had to drag me, I love parties," she smiled. He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

"This is the stuffiest party in the world." He rolled his eyes. "Just look. Everyone's just standing around. You're here with Hisagi, right?" he asked, brows raised as he pointed out Shuuhei beelining to the oh-so-cool Dr. Muguruma to ask him about his approach to sports injuries. "It's a business meeting set to music."

Momo huffed. That just wasn't going to do. So she picked up her skirt and waddled in front of him. "Well, that's no fun for anyone!" She held out her hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Hitsugaya was dumbfounded. Before he could respond, she had taken his drink and set it on the table. She took him by the hand and pulled him close, giggling all the while.

Renji looked like he was going to have a stroke. He was pacing outside the cafeteria doors, slightly sweaty, braid swaying erratically behind him.

"What's wrong, Abarai?" Dr. Kurosaki asked, brow raised. His arm was hooked around Dr. Ishida's waist. "You look like you're going to shit."

"Shut up," he groaned. His eyes went wide as he caught sight of who he was waiting for. There were few sights more magnificent than Dr. Kuchiki in a suit. His hair was soft and shiny, held out of his face by expensive white, decorative hair clips. His tie, pure silk, they were sure, was simple and elegant. Dr. Ishida and Dr. Kurosaki shared a questioning look as, without a word, Dr. Kuchiki placed his hand in that of Dr. Abarai.

"You look amazing," Renji praised quietly. Dr. Kuchiki thanked him graciously as, together, they walked through the doors.

"...Why are my Interns being seduced by Attendings?" Uryuu lamented. Ichigo just laughed and rubbed his waist.

"Come on. Let's dance."

If it were possible, Izuru would have disappeared into his cup of punch. Hell, if it had a little bit of rum in it, he might have stood a chance of surviving the night. There was still time, he could run. He could just join Rukia in her attempt to hide using the patients as an excuse. In fact, that was what he was going to do. They always needed more doctors, right? Dr. Ishida be damned.

…He didn't mean that; he actually liked Dr. Ishida a lot.

Just before he could make his break, he caught sight of a massive amount of familiar blonde hair. At least it was Rose who found him first. Dr. Ichimaru surely would have kidnapped him right then and there.

"There you are," Rose smiled. "I was worried that you would be stuck in a surgery." He offered Izuru his arm, who took it reluctantly. There was no doubt in his mind that the night was going to end with him fainting. He was already starting to hear his heartbeat in his head. But there was Rose's hand, resting on his back and trying to vanish that anxiety.

After glancing over his shoulder to make sure there was nobody following them, Izuru followed Rose into the lavishly decorated cafeteria. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Momo and Dr. Matsumoto appeared to be taking turns dancing with a vastly overwhelmed Dr. Hitsugaya. Renji appeared to be stepping on the infinitely patient Dr. Kuchiki's feet. Shuuhei had realized that his date had been stolen by Dr. Hitsugaya, of all people, and had taken to sulking in a corner with Dr. Muguruma and Dr. Jeagerjaques.

Well, at least everyone else was having a good time, though he had to wonder how Rukia was faring..

If the board said one negative thing about this party, Urahara was going to kick an ass or two. Drink in hand, he watched on with pride as Dr. Ishida and Dr. Kurosaki slow danced. Dr. Hitsugaya was smiling as he managed to twirl Dr. Hinamori. Dr. Kuchiki was as hard to read as ever, but the fact that he was still allowing Dr. Abarai to share the same air as him was promising, Dr. Jeagerjaques was only moderately drunk. It was a good day.

"Someone's proud of himself."

Dr. Urahara smirked.

"Why, what gave you that impression, Dr. Shihouin?"

"I've never seen you smile at non-alcoholic punch," she pointed out, then turned her gaze to Grimmjow. "..It is non-alcoholic, right?"

"Yeah. He pre-gamed. The board has no idea, they just think he's kissing ass."

She shrugged. "Something has to be in the punch. This is the best Gala we've had. I mean, just look at that. Ichimaru and Otoribashi are having some pissing contest over an intern. Kurosaki and Ishida aren't at each other's throats.. Kuchiki's over there entertaining an intern's shitty jokes, for crying out loud."

Urahara's eyes sparkled. "I don't think it's the punch. I think it's them, Yoruichi."

"Them?"

He gestured to the group in front of them. "It's the interns. They have a magic to them, don't they?"

Yoruichi hummed in reluctance, taking a sip of her drink.

"I just can't seem to figure out if it's a charm or a curse," he admitted.

Yoruichi set her cup down and grabbed him by the hand. "Stop contemplating the lowlives and dance with me," she ordered.

Shuuhei sighed as even Dr. Urahara was dragged onto the dance floor. This sucked. His date had been stolen. Everybody else was taken. There was no alcohol in sight. Shuuhei Hisagi wasn't one to ever chalk a party up as a failure, but this was a disaster. He should have taken a cue from Rukia and gone to look after patients. At least that would have won him points for dedication from the Attendings.

"You look like someone ran over your puppy."

He recognized the voice immediately as Dr. Matsumoto's. She smiled at him with a hint of pity. Normally, it would have pissed him off- he didn't need anyone's pity. But Dr. Matsumoto was just so pretty that he was too distracted by her radiance to make any note of anything less than that.

"Tough crowd," he shrugged. "My date ran off with someone else." He motioned to Momo and Dr. Hitsugaya.

Rangiku couldn't contain her chuckle. "I think it's best to take that one for the team. I don't think I've ever seen anyone make him so.. Slightly less murderous," she winked. "Come on. I'll dance with you, doctor..?"

"Hisagi." He offered his hand. He should have been offended. He was on her service for a week straight a while back- she could have remembered his name! But this Gala was Shuuhei's lesson in patience.

Bored. That was how Rukia was faring. There wasn't enough Facebook in the world to save her from her fate. She was sprawled out at the nurse's station, bag of chips in one hand, phone in the other. Most of the other doctors were keeping closer to the Intensive Care Unit and the Emergency Room. She was the lucky one. She only had a handful of patients to monitor.

And one of them was Kaien Shiba.

"Hey!" he called from his room. His yell was weak- what could be expected from a man with the lung capacity of a mouse? So, to get her attention, he tossed an M&M at her head.

Good aim.

"Hey!" came the reply. She walked over, arms crossed.

Kaien removed the oxygen cannula from his nose. "What are you doing here? All of the other doctors are at some party."

"Not all of them," she insisted. "Some of us have to take care of you."

He rolled his eyes. "You drew the short straw?"

"Shut up!" she asserted. "I just don't like dances, that's all."

"Mmmhm." Kaien sat back against his pillows. "You sure you're not just lame?"

She sat down on the bed. "Why would I want to be there, when I could watch you cough up mucus?"

His brows raised in response, and she seemed to realize too late what she had said. Well, there was no taking it back. But before she could defend herself, her phone buzzed.. And her beautiful, brand new iPhone almost knew what it was like to come face-first with the hospital floor.

"...My best friend is dancing with my brother," she deadpanned.

"No shit."

Rukia turned the phone to Kaien. On the screen was a picture sent by Shuuhei with the caption 'Guess he wasn't lying after all.' Renji was leading Byakuya in the sloppiest Waltz she'd ever seen. She could see the grin trying to crack through Kaien's stoic facade.

"Don't."

Smirk.

"You'll cough."

Smile.

"If you cough, you'll puke."

Grin.

"It isn't funny!"

And that broke him. The laughing fit lasted three whole seconds before it turned into a coughing fit, but it was so worth it.

"Sorry. That's just so fucked up."

"You're telling me!" she huffed, snatching her phone back.

Kaien took a moment to look her over. He knew what was happening. Triumph in his eyes, he leaned his back against the bed and crossed his arms. She narrowed her eyes at his smug grin.

"You're jealous!"

"Am not!"

"Are you jealous of your brother, or your best friend, is the question."

"I have no desire to dance with my brother."

Kaien waved his hand. "No, but you want to dance. You're just embarrassed that nobody asked you and you didn't want to go alone." He scooted so that his legs were hanging off the side of the bed. He got up slowly, holding the railing as he came to his feet. He plucked the phone out of her hands and scrolled through her iTunes. When an appropriate song was found, he placed the device, speaker-up on the table.

Rukia glared. "Get back in bed, you're sick."

"I'm not dead yet," he pointed out, and started singing weakly along to the song. "Shut up and dance with me."

She sighed dramatically and put her hand in his.