(Recap)

As much as Rukia was going to deny it – which he knew she would, quite fiercely in fact – Shuuhei couldn't help but see a definite string of lunacy that ran through both their webs. Both were hardheaded with short fuses and an even shorter tolerance for meritless goals. Excelling in their own fields, there was too many times where either of the individuals walked into the room like they were some holy entity. Competing with them as a rival company worker would've been too much of a strenuous profession for him – Ichigo's level of impulsivity and Rukia's following not too short after – would've been too much of a mental strain on any realistic individual.

Shuuhei noticed that Rukia was back to concentrating on the task in front of her, a pen twirling indolently between her slender fingers. Noticing the comfortable silence that had settled in the office, he felt as if it was the calm before the storm.

The next few weeks was going to be a nightmare.

Out of the two hundred or so applicants, she always held pride in the fact that she was the one to obtain the highly sought-after position within the Tensho Corporation. Therefore, despite what she let on, Matsumoto Rangiku loved her job. Of course, that didn't stop her from complaining about the workload and the ridiculous number of shifts – it was something she passionately vowed to complain about for the rest of her life.

So yes, she found the downsides of being a businesswoman for a company in high demand, but Rangiku felt that she was only ardently fulfilling the criteria's of having an office life – you come in, whine, finish the job and come out of the office looking fabulous in your adorable white blouse that matched oh-so-well with that pastel pink double-breasted blazer and high-waist skirt. Damn did she look good in it.

Her sense of fashion aside, Rangiku also had a keen eye for intricate details most others often overlooked. Because of this sensitivity to observance, it made her mirthfully interested in how people operated under given circumstances. She became intrigued. The fact that there were so many fascinating people in one body of building made her appreciate her job even more.

"Argh!"

Committing the printed revenue's graph in her mind for later use, Rangiku slowly panned her head away from her paperwork to see Rukia slamming the phone receiver down, her face contorted in pure irritation. With a brow raised in mild curiosity, the soft bellow of coffee steam wafting to her cheeks made them tinge pink and moisten from the vapor, "there's no way they wouldn't have heard that. You should really control that temper of yours, Kia-chan. God knows how you reel in business partners with such a short fuse."

The other free hand slammed down onto the desk with such force that a tingling sensation of pain danced on Rukia's palms. She let out a deep breath before cupping her, 'rather small' Rangiku noted, face, "I don't need to control my temper. Everyone around me needs control their habit of pissing me off."

"Did a meeting get cancelled again?" turning back, Rangiku softly blew away the mist that arose from her cup, which immediately returned back to eagerly enter her glossed lips as she took a sip of caffeinated salvation. Setting the cup down on the glass table, she rustled through her own paperwork with a little sense of indifference. It happened from time to time, for whatever reason – companies that went ahead to cancel meetings, usually on short notice; inevitably making the company scrap week's worth of drafting and planning that went into the preparation for the presentations. It was unfortunate, but they've had their fair share of hits and misses.

"No!" Rukia gritted out, grabbing at the sheets of paper strewn across her desk, "it would've been better if they did! At least we don't have to care about them after they've canceled!" There was another aggravated cry.

The strawberry blonde turned back to face her friend again, "then what's the problem?"

With the small stack of paper held untidily in her hands, Rukia slammed it back down onto the desk while bolting out of her seat. In her grip, the sides of the paper creased miserably at her abuse. Rukia stared at the crease marks in great contempt and refused to give a damn, "their bloody company changed the meeting date to tomorrow!"

"What!" Rangiku stood up from her seat. In all her years of working in this office, Rangiku endured through a hell of a lot of crazy situations; her boss was Kurosaki Ichigo – the most impulsively, handsome individual she had the secret pleasure of meeting; and she worked alongside Ice Princess Rukia – the second most (self-denied) impulsive individual she had met. As if things weren't already bad as it was - with two hotheaded, argumentative, violent alpha dominators on one office level! "But that's an entire week pulled! They can't just do this!"

Without a word, Rukia reached into the first drawer to pick up a familiar, white packet, 'painkiller, where would I be without you.' Taking four tablets and chugging them down with a glass of water, Rukia wiped away at the small stream of water that had managed to spill past her lips. Looking at this, Rangiku worried for her friend's mangled state of mind, "four tablets at once? Isn't that a little too much?"

Rukia took her place back inside the embrace of her seat while lightly shaking her head, "one was for the headache I already had; one was for this shenanigan they pulled-" she gestured her hand towards the phone machine and by now, her voice had risen an octave higher, "- one because I now have to see that stupid berry! And the fourth one is because the day hasn't even ended yet! It hasn't even ended yet, and Buddha, Jesus and peanut butter are all out to get me!"

Rangiku stared at Rukia; she found it tragic at the fact that she wasn't even remotely questioning her friend's sanity anymore…

"I guess that's the kind of authority they have the pleasures of having… being such a large company and all… can't you haggle them with you professional, ice princess charm or something?!" The more she thought about it, the more Rangiku found herself panicking, "Rukia! An entire week!"

"They wanted the meeting this evening. I haggled and got it moved to tomorrow." Closing her eyes, the image of the elderly CEO flashed across Rukia's mind, "plus… with the lack of extra lives I have, disappointing Yamamoto Genryuusai's expectations is something I don't want to do."

Rangiku groaned audibly into her hands. They were going to cram. She hated cramming, "are you going to call boss-san?"

Gently massaging her temple, Rukia stared at the phone receiver and felt a flicker of comfort as her eyes landed on a decent dent embedded into the side of the object. She slowly got out of her seat and started to pack her things. "I'll go tell the two up there; you go around and gather the evaluation and drafting team. We're having a cram meeting."

Rangiku all but whimpered and got herself ready to move, "does this mean we're staying overnight?"

"Most likely," Rukia hurriedly grabbed for her navy, satin overcoat and walked briskly to the door, "tell them to be at the conference room by five. Lock the door behind you and I'll meet you there."

Turning the cold surface of the handle, Rukia exited her room and immediately took a sharp left towards the head office. Mentally, she grumbled at the prospect of having to spend more time with her tormentor; but she was a professional, and she would act the part - it didn't mean she couldn't bitch about it in her mind, though. And godamnit she was bitching right now.

As she got closer to her destination, she saw Orihime straightening up at her presence. Her indifferent expression bloomed into a tense smile, her mouth ready to open for whatever goddamn reason Rukia really didn't have the time to contemplate on. With a small wave of her hands, she dismissed whatever the woman was about to say, "no need to stand up, I got this."

The parted lips immediately pursed in a tight line and for a second, the artificial smile fell from Orihime's face. Rukia quirked a brow, wondering if the orange-haired secretary was going to say something about her rude – she admitted this – behavior. The corner of the lips lifted back into a smile, and Rukia turned away in bored disappointment to knock on the wooden door – proceeding to open it without waiting for a reply, "Kurosaki-san."

Now, before she actually took a step into the office, Rukia – for some strange, warped reason – had the mental image of Kurosaki Ichigo turning slowly, diabolically in his chair, with his slender fingers steepled in front of his grinning face - as if he knew she was going to be in his room. Surprisingly enough, he was leaning casually on the table situated near the large-paned windows, reading from a piece of paper. Rukia found herself eyeing his slightly unbuttoned business shirt and the red tie that was strew carelessly on the table – white suited him.

"What brings you here, Rukia-san?" From the couches in the middle of the room, Shuuhei stood up from his seat and looked over at Rukia, a slight frown adorning his ruggedly handsome face. Rukia felt the corner of her lip twitch at his silent stare. She had no doubts, none at all, that the man had intended – secretly, in his mind, where he had a sadistic tendency of seeing people squirm – to ask why she had come here on her own accord.

Despite feeling targeted on by her friend, Rukia secretly felt relieved at not having to chase both of them down individually at a dire time like this.

"Eh," The head of orange turned to the new presence in the room, mouth slightly agape at the sudden encounter. His lips slowly stretched into a smirk as large hands slowly brought down the paper from his attention, "to think that you'd willingly come to visit me. What a pleasant surprise."

Turning to Ichigo, Rukia mentally rolled her eyes. She had wondered why that berry idiot hadn't badgered her the second she opened the door – it seemed as if he actually had the ability to concentrate on his work. Completely ignoring his statement, she shifted her attention to her tattooed colleague, "we're having a cram meeting. Matsumoto-san has already gone to gather the rest of the workers. I'll fill you in on the way, but we need to move now."

There was a sound of papers rustling as Ichigo collected all the strewn sheets into a pile to place on his desk. Hisagi reached for his blazer that was carelessly tossed over the cushiony armrest and tucked it in his arms, "cram meeting? What's this about?"

Impatiently, Rukia ushered at both of them to start walking with her as she turned around to leave the room. Both men complied without a question. As the three walked out of the office, from the distance, Inoue's quiet, "Good bye, Kurosaki-san," was heard. Rukia didn't know if the orange idiot had heard it or simply decided to ignore her farewell greeting, "Gotei called up. The conference meeting we were supposed to have next week with them on our latest project has been reallocated."

Shifting his blazer to his other hand and walking briskly behind the petit woman. Shuuhei gave an intense frown, man, did she walk fast. Ichigo simply quirked an eyebrow, "to when?"

Rukia gave a brief side-glance at him, her eyes soulless and robbed of their usual fiery gleam, "tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Shuuhei spluttered, "they reduced it to an entire week?!"

Rukia sighed; it was like a replay of just a couple of minutes ago. She almost had to compliment the Gotei Inc. for having the ability to reduce two of their most finest colleagues to rubble like this – keeping to mind that Rangiku and Shuuhei would've had the worst of the brunt… working directly under Ichigo and all. "What can we do? This is Yamamoto Genryuusai we're dealing with. He could buy our company ten times over if he wanted to."

Ichigo ran a hand through his short locks, "the old man seems to be fond of his games..."

Rukia glanced over at Ichigo, her brows etched in worry, "please refrain yourself from doing anything stupid… he's going to eat us alive."

Her only reply was a brief, light-hearted shrug. At his nonchalant body language, Rukia felt the overwhelming urge to hug him…around the neck… with a rope... on top of the peak of Mount Fuji…

"But then again," Ichigo gave a smirk at the thought, "it's people like him who makes this line of work interesting."

Rukia pinched the bridge of her nose; certainly, such intent to murder wasn't healthy… Did she only take one tablet for this idiot? Had she really? Reaching the door to the meeting room – officially designated as the room of death by many workers alike - she gave a small, helpless whimper; her hands resting on the cold surface of the handle, unable to muster the strength to turn it and face utter demise. Ichigo set his hand above hers, the warmth from his palm heating the top of her hand, "let's do good work today, ne?"

With – almost a giddy – smile, the man opened the door and walked in with an undeniable spring in his steps. Rukia stood frozen at the threshold of the door. He was insane… absolutely, completely insane…

From behind her, Shuuhei stared at the continuous interaction they had. He secretly wondered to himself if the atmosphere was always like this when they were together – one wherein which no one could interfere. Walking behind them the entire time, for him to break such a thing was impossible. He slowly walked up to Rukia and gently placed a hand on her back, "sometimes, I wonder if he's supposed to be in an asylum, too…"

Turning to stare at Shuuhei, Rukia gave a tiny groan, "I feel so sorry for you, Shuuhei."

He gave a small smile while smoothly ushering her into the room, "thanks Rukia, I need as much sympathy as I can get…"

As soon as she entered the room, she could see the familiar, downcast and horrified expressions on their colleagues' faces. From the large, wooden conference table, Rangiku straightened up as soon as the remaining people walked in, "we're all here, Rukia-san."

Taking the queue, Rukia walked over to the podium that was situated near the large, screen projector. Setting the microphone aside, she rested her hands on the edges of the podium and leant forward, "I received a call from the Gotei United Incorporations. The presentation meeting we were supposed to have next Thursday evening has been moved… to tomorrow."

A choir of protest arose from the table, nothing Rukia hadn't already heard from Rangiku's groaning, "that's enough!" The bustling died down to grumpy murmurs before giving Rukia absolute silence, "I know what they did was a dick-move, for a lack of a better word, and knowing a couple of you –" Rukia rested her eyes on Rangiku, who only stuck her tongue out in reply, "I know we can spend days complaining about it. But it's already done and we need to get ready for tomorrow."

Ichigo gave a small grin at Rukia's slip of professionalism. Oh yeah, she was irritated all right.

Standing up from his seat, he drew in the attention of his subordinates and smoothly allowed Rukia to transfer authority and take her seat next to Rangiku, "alright, how much work do we have till the final piece?"

A tall, slender man stood up from his seat and habitually pushed the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "well, the drafting team were already ahead of schedule anyway. It'll only take a couple of more hours."

Giving a satisfied nod, Ichigo turned to a youthful woman sitting upright in her seat, "a lot of the pressure will be on the evaluation team, is that alright?" The melancholic woman gave a small nod in reply, quietly fumbling with her long, braided hair.

Clapping his hands together, Ichigo flashed the faces around him a large grin, "alright, let's get started."

Letting out a long sigh, Rangiku cupped her cheeks with her hands before stretching her arms out. Sitting back in her chair, she took a quick glance at the clock - which read two in the morning. Turning back, she observed the conference table – it was only the four of them and the two managers in charge of the teams that were left behind, she felt herself smiling when they all held expressions of relief.

Despite the hours of sleep they eventually had to sacrifice, the presentation was complete and looking quite good, if she did say so herself.

Looking to her right, Rangiku gave a small smile at the picture of Rukia sleeping with her arms acting as a pillow. Focusing her smoky, blue eyes further behind her, she saw her boss gazing intensely with no awareness and care of those around them. Oh this was getting good.

Softly coughing to herself, Rangiku scooted her chair back and got up from her seat, "Kurosaki-san, I think it's safe to dismiss everyone now."

Snapping out of his revere, Ichigo shifted his eyes to the curvaceous woman and gave a small nod, "yeah, you can all leave now, thanks for the hard work."

As papers started to rustle and the sound of shifting chairs filled the room, the manager of the drafting team came up next to Rangiku, "is Rukia-san alright?"

Rangiku turned towards the bespectacled male, "she had a headache before, and with the sudden cram meeting, she must've exhausted herself." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "it's alright Uryu-kun, I'm sure Kurosaki-san will make sure she reaches her home safely." At this she spared a side-glance at Ichigo, who only quirked an eyebrow at her suggestive grin.

The strawberry-blonde woman caught the little action and started to put her blazer on. Reaching to grab Shuuhei's forearm and placing her hand on Uryu's shoulder, she forcefully began to usher them towards the door, "we'll leave Rukia-chan to you, Kurosaki-san!"

And the door shut closed.

Ichigo had to wonder if the woman knew what would happen if she left the demon-midget and him alone in a room together… something told him that she did… she knew very well what would happen. Pondering on the little assistive gesture Rangiku provided, Ichigo felt that she was going to act a crucial role in his scheme to catch himself one stubborn, aggressive rabbit.

From the door, he turned his attention to the sleeping, limp figure of Rukia. Grabbing his overcoat, he began to make his way closer to her and took the seat Rangiku had been occupying. Draping it over thin shoulders, he gently placed his hand on top of soft, black tresses, "Rukia…" he softly called out.

There was no movement or reply.

His hand reached over to give her hand a small squeeze, "Rukia…"

Brows furrowed at the noise but Rukia only buried herself further in the crooks of her arm. Ichigo grinned, "Rukia, tell me where you live. I need to take you home."

"Be quiet… Rangiku."

Shaking his head in amusement, Ichigo turned to his phone and proceeded to look through the company database for her profile.

Rei… Ren... Rika... Riko... Rin...

Rukia.

Smiling at the screen, Ichigo pocketed the device and got out of his seat. Placing a hand over Rukia's slim waist, he pushed the chair back with his feet at the same time, placed a hand just under the hem of her skirt – stopping it from falling and exposing her under garment. In his large overcoat, she looked like a cocoon in his arms. Rukia nuzzled into his chest and Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle. If she were conscious of what she was doing right now, he would've been skinned and burned ten times over, "lets get you home."

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To be continued…

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Read. Smile. Review.

Firstly, I'd like to give a great big THANK YOU to all of you who reviewed and look out for my story! I'm hoping to see more of them in the near future :D.

I haven't forgotten about the story… in fact, I haven't forgotten any of my stories, and their plots are still continuing in my mind, it's just hard for me to put it on paper at a designated time. But I'm taking it slow and steady!

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

Regards,

M.