Author's Note - Two individual stories, one per chapter, for Beach Big Bang - Bing #6 Valentine's/White Day

"Shooo-haaay! Bottle's empty again. Why do you keep letting that happen?"

Hidden snickers built into outright guffaws as the tattooed, scary-looking lieutenant jumped to fix the problem and returned with a full bottle, the hopeful expression of a drenched puppy sitting on the doorstep suffusing his usually stern face. Rangiku smirked. He wasn't the only one who was wrapped around her skilled fingers, but he certainly was the most eager.

"Good boy, now go get me something to snack on. Can't drink on an empty stomach, right boys? Bad for the constitution."

"S'not verynice. Ya know he hic s'in love hic witchoo."

"What? No one can understand you, Izuru. It's just impolite to get wasted like that."

Now she was clear and articulate, she was certain. She would never let herself go like that in public. Why, she hardly ever got drunk, thanks to her remarkable willpower and metabolism.

"Lookie who's talkin'"

"Rude. Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, Valentine's Day! What are you getting me, Iz-u-ru?"

Thunk.

"Gross. Right in a puddle of drool. Oh well. What are you getting me, Ren-ji?"

"Nothin', you lush. Let Shuhei waste his paycheck on a girl that will string him along for years. Not my thing."

"Right, right, you prefer to be the one doing the stringing."

"What the fuck is that . . ."

"Rukia! Oh, fair and wondrous Rukia! Oh, how I love thee! Not that I'll ever tell you, of course."

"You think I won't kick your ass just cuz you're drunk? Hey, get off me!"

She ignored the scuffle breaking out between Renji and Shuhei, focusing instead on the kaki no tane.

"You see, Izuru," she addressed the passed-out blond seriously, finding him a much better listener than usual, "that's why I keep Shuhei around. He always knows just what I want." She sighed. "Maybe I should give him a chance. I mean, it's quite a change from he-who-must-not-be-named, having a guy actually pay attention to what I like."

The noise of the bar went on, but the silence nearby was suddenly deafening. Her head turned slowly, taking in the sight of Renji with his mouth gaping like a fish, and Shuhei, red-faced hopefully from the strangle hold he was locked in, grinning like a fool with comic tears in his eyes.

Oh, shit. Had she just said . . .

"I mean, haha, like that would be funny, right? Me and Shuhei, hahaha, seriously, like that would ever happen!"

A scramble of movement, a jostling of the table, and she was leaning back onto the quietly snoring Izuru to try to keep some distance between herself and the wet puppy she had just let into the house who now insisted on jumping all over her and splattering mud around her locked, sterile home.

"I won't let you down, Ran! I've got it all planned out. Reservations at that place you love in Junrinan, I got the best table months ago. There's a festival only a few blocks away, dancing at the town hall. Then a moonlit stroll home, and . . ."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down lover boy. Not that I'm not flattered, really, but this is my last night off for like two weeks."

Yeah, that excuse would work. Happened to be true, which was a handy bonus. She congratulated herself, even though there was a slight twinge of guilt as the earnest lieutenant deflated.

"Just skip out like you always do, Rangiku."

Gray eyes lit with hope, and she cursed Renji and that damned smirk on his stupid face.

"Yeah, normally that would work. But my captain's even more uptight than usual lately."

Unspoken, they all knew why. The same set of reasons that had them all here drinking when they should be doing more important things. Winning a war shouldn't feel this awful.

"Last time I left early, he tracked me down. Now, do you really want him storming in and freezing your ass in a restaurant?"

Deflated again.

"But tomorrow's Valentine's Day. Surely, if you had a date . . ."

"Nah, she's right, man. Hitsugaya don't give a shit about some holiday, 'specially not this one. What can you expect, right? Guy's got a heart of ice, not a romantic bone in his body. Or maybe he just ain't hit puberty yet. Maybe if he got laid, he'd lighten up."

The two laughed and she blinked, rolling the words around in her head. It wasn't very nice, talking about Toshiro that way. Not that it was anything new. Normally, she'd shut Renji up. But . . . hmmm.

"You know, Renji, you might be on to something there."

"Huh?"

"Well, what if my captain had something better to think about than my paperwork? Like a Valentine's admirer?"

"Huh?"

"Moron."

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

"Matsumoto!"

"Ugh, not so loud! Eh, what are you doing in my room, captain?"

"It's my office, Matsumoto. What the hell is going on!"

She rolled over, both hands coming up to her ears. Her bed had gotten really, really hard. Someone was snoring. She didn't snore, she was sure of it, snoring wasn't elegant at all. It was so bright! And that was . . . uh-oh . . . something pale and snoring and almost naked. Not again.

Scrambling into an elegant sprawl, pushing back her surely perfect hair out of her certainly clear and lovely eyes, not bloodshot like the blinking gray eyes trying to focus on her, she took in the dire circumstances. At least she was still clothed, though Shuhei was drooling as he watched her tuck her breast back in her kosode. Lech.

"Oh, shit. Izuru, hey! Get up, dickwad!"

Renji, too? That was new. Usually he didn't end up here. Oh, he was stripped down to fundoshi, too, and my, my was he in good shape. Well, so was Shuhei. Even pale-ass Izuru was fit though her eyes didn't want to focus on the heavily damage and the bizarre metal patchwork. They'd all been through . . . she needed a drink.

Wait, wasn't there something more important than nearly naked men?

"Fuck! Renji, Shuhei, just drag him out of here. Hurry!"

Too late, really, the hell butterflies were already flitting away from her captain, out the open door, off to alert three captains that their seconds were lying in another captain's office, clothed only in scraps of cloth and shame.

"Ne, captain, you didn't have to . . ."

"You have 30 minutes, Matsumoto. Go home. Clean yourself up and then get back here ready to work. Or don't bother coming back at all."

She'd really done it this time. He hadn't been this angry since . . . she couldn't remember. After the Winter War, maybe, though he'd been so distracted by Momo that his anger was like a summer storm, here and gone in a heartbeat, leaving him worn out and increasingly heartbroken. Lately, though, it was winter storms, heavy and lasting, a dark cloud over everything that made her want to hide as much as it made her want to comfort him.

All this she contemplated while furious turquoise tracked the chaotic flurry of limbs and curses that accompanied three fleeing lieutenants. All this she tried not to feel terribly guilty over, knowing she'd once again disappointed him. All this added to the pounding headache as she took the small but incredibly strong hand, offered casually despite the tight wrath in his expression, and struggled to her feet, out the door, to clean herself up as ordered.

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

It was in the shower that she started to remember, head hanging, watching the warm water darken and pull her hair down. A plot, a scheme to get out of her responsibilities yet again. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, it seemed like a much better idea than the things she usually came up with when she'd had so much sake that she could convince herself she was perfectly sober.

It was while she was getting dressed in a fresh uniform that didn't reek of alcohol and smoke that she started to worry. Sure, when he was a third seat under her she had teased him mercilessly. But he was her captain. Not only had she failed to stop the derisive talk, she'd encouraged it. Hell, she'd even told them what no one else knew, what Toshiro had told her in confidence late one night when she had asked him if he was in love with Momo.

"Huh?"

"You're like some kinda parrot. A big, stupid, spikey parrot. Huh? Huh?"

She laughed as Shuhei teased Renji, but rushed ahead, excited about her plan.

"I said, not a girl. He gets tons of gifts and love letters, you know. He won't give a shit about chocolates from a girl. Do I have to spell it out for you? So one of you write the note, nice, sloppy guy writing."

"Hitsugaya-taicho is GAY!"

"SHHHH!"

"Hitsugaya-taicho is gay?"

"Oh my god, I'll write it myself. Let's see, what would a secret admirer say about Toshiro?"

"I love you, please don't kill me?"

"You're so cute, I just wanna dress you up like a teddy bear?"

"Roses are red, daffodils are yellow . . . um, here's some chocolate for my fine icy fellow."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Like one of Izuru's poems."

"Wait, wait! I've got it!" She grinned, smug in her epiphany. "Ichigo."

"Huh?"

"Huh? Huh? Fucking caveman."

"Come on, who else would be crazy enough to hit on my captain? And he's never here anymore, so it's pretty safe. Plus, Toshiro would never in a million years confront Ichigo of all people."

"Then what good is it?"

"Think about it, Shuhei. Everyone wants Ichigo. I know you're straight but tell me you wouldn't be a bit tempted if he gave you the time of day."

"Gross!"

"Liar. Ichigo's fucking hot."

"Why Renji," she hit him hard on the arm, determined to never let him forget this moment, "I never! Have you told Rukia? Ooooo, have you told Ichigo?"

"I'm not gay. I'm just saying. Dude's hot, and a badass, I'm confident enough in my masculinity to admit that."

"Good, then you write it. Pretend you're the strawberry."

It was when she crept back into the office and slunk over to her desk that she really started to think she was the worst friend in the entire fucking world. It had worked. The plain box that they had dumped store-bought chocolates into to make them pass for homemade had vanished from the big desk, but it wasn't in the trash bin with the rejected offerings. The anger she would expect had vanished, too, her captain intensely frowning at some form or another, eyebrows knitted together in concentration where normally he'd be casually zipping through the information and moving on.

It was when the awkward silence had stretched on for a good half an hour that she broke, drawing breath to confess all her sins. Only, she never got the chance.

"Matsumoto."

"Y-yes?"

Timid was not a look her captain pulled off well, brows pinched, grimacing, furtive glances. Frankly, he looked constipated.

"The . . . uh, tradition of giving chocolates . . . on Valentine's Day . . . what, exactly, does one expect in return?"

"Well, I suppose one hopes more than expects, usually, hopes that the one they give the chocolates to might like them back, maybe even love them. It's a chance for romance, a way to confess."

"Yes, yes. But what about the answer, the . . . gift back?"

"Oh, you mean White Day! Well, you've got a lot of practice not giving anything back to anyone, captain. The pile was smaller this year, wasn't it?" He glared and she raced before he could yell. "But if you liked someone, it would be the chance to tell them. Chocolates, candy, cookies, marshmallows . . . or if you're really keen on them maybe something sweeter like jewelry or even a nice white negligee, or something lacy and skimpy."

It was as her captain's face drained of color and she saw the bobbing of his throat that she knew. It was official. Worst friend ever.

"Of course, some girls give chocolate just out of friendship."

"Friendship?"

"Yes, like I gave you that white chocolate dragon with the little cinnamon drop for an eye but you don't like sweets you said and you dumped it right in the trash and I cried for like an hour because I stayed up all night making it for my new captain and you just didn't care at all about my feelings or anything . . ."

"Okay, okay! I got it."

"Why do you ask, captain?"

"No reason."

It was when he went back to glaring holes through paperwork that she lost her nerve. She couldn't tell him it was all in fun, because this wasn't fun. Maybe she'd wait. Yeah, he'd get over the shock of it in a couple of days. He'd probably be mad as fuck at Ichigo, but that was better than being mad as fuck at her.

"Matsumoto, after lunch take care of deliveries and then take the rest of the day off. You can come in late tomorrow."

"Captain?"

Another cold glare and she flinched. It had worked, but she felt like hit about it. Just how badly had she upset him to make him not want to work? And . . . oh, shit. Now she had no excuse not to go on that date with Shuhei. Well, that's karma for you.

"Thank you, captain."

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

"Rangiku! Where have you been?"

"Ugh. I do not want to talk about it. Captain's on the warpath, I spent a almost two weeks in Rukongai and I get back just in time to get shipped off to spend forever training a stick-in-the-mud newbie in the Living World. Dude barely talks, and he's stationed in the middle of nowhere, of course, couldn't possibly be in Paris or Dubai or anything."

"Backfired, didn't it? Shoulda seen that coming."

"Shut it, pineapple head. Worked for a couple of days, anyway. Pass the sake. Renji, What did you write in that Valentine's letter? I don't remember a thing."

"Uh . . . let's see. Something like 'you're so hot' which I thought was funny since, you know, ice and all, and 'I want in your hakama' or some romantic shit like that."

"You didn't!"

"No, he didn't. Leave my Ran alone, dickface." She rolled her eyes. One date, admittedly a nice date, and now it was 'my Ran.' Men. "You really don't remember? You kept making him tone it down. Kinda lame, like 'please accept this token of my affection.' You said it was in case he actually talked to Ichigo."

"Which he might. Rukia said he's coming next week."

"Shit! He hasn't been around forever. Why now?"

"Some Kuchiki getting married. None of the other Shibas would come, still pissed off at the whole 'your clan sucks, get lost' thing."

"Oh, fuck. We've got to keep them from seeing each other!"

"That's gonna be tough. Captain Hitsugaya already RSVPed. Rukia was pretty excited about that since he never accepts."

"Oh, I'm so fired."

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

Her earliest memories were of facing danger; being a young soul with significant spiritual power far out in Rukongai was not the easiest way to start an afterlife. She'd faced down bullies, murderers, Hollows, Arrancar, those horrid Quincies, and, of, course, Gin . . . point was, Matsumoto Rangiku was no coward.

And yet, every time she was away she screwed up her courage, and every time she saw her captain again all her nerve evaporated in a puff of shame and anxiety. Lucky for her, he just seemed to keep finding ways for her to not be in the office, not be at training when he was. Unlucky for her, this just made her more anxious. It wasn't like him to avoid her. Rather, he usually kept a close eye on her, not that she needed it, being the shining example of a dutiful and perfect lieutenant.

When she returned from the latest three day trip to Rukongai, she had raced home ahead of the squad, eager for a shower and determined to come clean to her captain, as well. White Day was coming, and with it the engagement party at Kuchiki Manor, where her captain would be confronted with his not-so-secret not-so-admirer. It could go a few ways. Maybe Toshiro would be as angry as she expected and yell at the strawberry who would not have a clue why and probably react with volatility that would escalate and then all the other captains would get involved and boom . . . civil war right there in the Kuchiki Compound.

Or maybe shy Toshiro would surprise her and get a gift for the highly desirable human who had his pick of partners and would hopefully let the ice captain down easy but what if he didn't and he laughed and poor Toshiro's heart would be shattered and he'd never ever risk anything like a love confession ever again and he'd be all alone and bitter and it would all be her fault and oh, god, what had she done!

She had to tell him. Only one day left to do the right thing and save her captain from embarrassment and ruin. Barging in to the office, She was amazed to find her captain red-faced and breathing hard, his back firmly to the door of the supply closet.

"Matsu . . . moto . . . what are you . . ."

"Everything alright, captain?"

The confession of her sins forgotten in the shock of seeing the always dignified and composed tensai with his haori off and kosode open, in the office, at 2 in the afternoon. OH. Oh, no. Had he been crying? Had he been so upset by her cruel little joke that he was a sobbing mess alone in his office? His cheeks were all flushed and his lips swollen like he'd been biting on them, that had to be it, poor Toshiro, and it was all her fault.

"Oh, captain! I'm so sorry," she wailed, and his big eye got even bigger, like he was going to cry again any minute. She couldn't take, it. She just couldn't.

"Matsumoto?"

"It was me, captain! I'm a horrible person. I was drinking and I was upset and the guys were there and it seemed like some harmless fun and I even thought it might be good for you, you know? You were so depressed and angry all the time and if someone liked you, someone really good, then maybe it would cheer you up but it wasn't supposed to go this far, I swear, I never meant for you to get hurt just don't say anything tomorrow, okay?"

He had walked toward her while she spilled her guts, hands gently taking hers and pulling her over to the couch. She sat as she tried to make excuses for herself, only feeling worse by the second as he gently, somewhat awkwardly patted her on the knee.

"Calm down, Rangiku."

"Ohhhhh, don't be so kind, oh, captain, I didn't mean . . ."

"Take a breath, and tell me what has you so upset."

She wiped her face on her sleeve, gross, and took a shaky breath to do just that. The words started to pour out of her, and the comforting hands pulled away, turquoise eyes going from upset concern to that familiar distant coldness.

"It was me. The boys were there, but it was my idea and I did it, captain. I told Renji to write the note and I bought the chocolates and I put them both on your desk. Don't be mad at them, they were drinking and it was me, I did it. Only, I meant to tell you the second I sobered up but I knew you'd be mad, I mean, you should be mad, I know. And now Ichigo will be here tomorrow and you'll talk to him and he won't know because he didn't give you those chocolates and he didn't write the note . . . it was me."

There were five long, terrible seconds of silence before she could bring herself to lift her eyes and catch the disappointment and sadness that she dreaded. Not so much sadness for himself at finding out that Ichigo had not, in fact, given him a Valentine's confession. No, she knew that look. He was sad because of what she had done, disappointed that the person he should be able to trust more than anyone had toyed with him for a month.

"Well. That certainly explains a few things. Go home, Matsumoto. Take a few days off. I need time to think about where this leaves us."

He sounded so resigned, like being hurt was only to be expected, and it was all her fault. For what? A night off she didn't even want? She couldn't hold back a strangled sob. His hand that suddenly lifted toward her shook a little, and every ounce of courage she had fled just as she, world's worst friend and Gotei's worst lieutenant, turned and fled out of the office.

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo

He sat and watched her run out the door, feeling long overdue satisfaction. The clatter of falling objects was accompanied the creak of the supply closet door, a low curse, quiet footsteps.

"That was a bit harsh."

"A month, Ichigo. It took her a month."

"You sound angry."

Taking in the glorious sight of Ichigo topless and slightly bruised from his kisses and being suddenly flung into a closet helped turn his thoughts back to the silver lining off this mess. While the brash young human had been flirting with him for almost as long as they had known each other, Toshiro had never taken it seriously, just crude banter as was common in human youth.

"I am angry. It was a stupid thing to do. It might be forgivable if it was a cruel prank on a friend, but I'm her captain."

A warm arm wrapped around his shoulders and he barely stopped himself from melting into the warm body pressed against his side. No, he'd never taken Ichigo's flirting seriously, and never really considered his own feelings in return. Until he was briefly tricked by an unwanted box of chocolates and a letter. At first, he was too stunned to realize the obvious. Hell, just the clumsy penmanship and terrible prose gave it away, but not before he started thinking.

"No harm done in the long run, right? You know she wouldn't have done something like that if she wasn't wasted. And look what it got you."

He smirked, tilting his head to accept warm lips on his cheek and pushing his hand between bare skin and couch to hold his boyfriend's waist. Racing off to the Living World on Valentine's Day with a forged letter was the fastest way to the truth. At the time, he hadn't even suspected Matsumoto. More likely one of her drinking buddies or a lower Shinigami he had slighted or offended by being himself. But the strongest suspects were humans, Kurosaki himself or his friends.

"Oh, the look on your face. I'll never forget it."

Using kido to open the window locked against the chill February wind and entering Kurosaki's bedroom uninvited was just proof that Matsumoto wasn't the only one capable of rash, uncivil behavior. The room had been unoccupied, giving him plenty of time to read the real love letter half-composed on the desk littered with wadded up evidence of effort and angst before the unsuspecting human came in, damp from the shower in low-slung cotton pants that short-circuited an already stressed brain.

"My face? I was justified, at least, finding an intruder poking around, not to mention reading letters I was never gonna send. And your face . . . you practically drooled, you old lecher, kinda like just ten minutes ago."

It took less than a second to twist himself around and end up straddling the long legs, hands clasped in orange hair, that bare torso he hadn't finished with staring him right in the face. Resisting the urge to lose control again, this was his office, for crying out loud, he leaned in for a gentle kiss and backed off right away even though big hands on his hips were urging him closer.

"Think you're that great of a prize, do you? I haven't given you my answer, yet."

A sweet and sultry laugh against his lips and he had to pull back again, almost leaning off Ichigo's knees as the strawberry chased him for another kiss. Bad idea, climbing on his boyfriend's lap.

"I'm pretty sure you'll say yes. Or, what was it in that horrible letter? Check the box yes or no? And I'm the one in high school."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

More laughter. He didn't mind, not when it was Ichigo, not when another kiss followed the deep chuckle.

"You'll forgive her then."

A statement more than a question, and his sigh was answer enough. But he'd let her suffer at least until tomorrow.

"On one condition. I'm going to my quarters. Get dressed, wait five minutes, then follow."

He smirked again at the surprise and then glee on that handsome face, climbed off his comfortable perch on strong legs, and walked away as he straightened his uniform. Chasing Matsumoto out of the division for the last few weeks had been a good idea, giving him plenty of time to talk, cuddle, and then make out non-stop with his boyfriend, but tomorrow it would all be out in the open. Tonight, then, he'd give Ichigo his White Day present a little early.

And he supposed he would have to forgive Matsumoto, after all. 'Something lacy and skimpy' had been her idea, after all, and he looked good in white silk if he did say so himself.