Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, because I'm not Kubo-sensei. The bleach I own keeps my whites white.

The atmosphere of the 8/13 Dance Studio was charged with excitement, anticipation, and trepidation as its dancers waited in the ballroom. This was a momentous occasion, so big and important that for the first time, they were working in conjunction with Aizen Studios. In one corner, the combined theatrics of Neliel Tu Oderschvank and Matsumoto Rangiku were driving one Ise Nanao slowly out of her mind. In another, Hitsugaya Toushiro and Hinamori Momo sat, chatting quietly to catch up on the past few months. Kira Izuru was being teased good-naturedly by Hisagi Shuuhei, Ichimaru Gin, and Ayasegawa Yumichika. Soi Fong and Kurotsuchi Nemu were waiting by the windows in companionable silence, and Zaraki Kenpachi sat by himself, his eyes closed as he leaned against the wall.

Ballroom dancing was sweeping the world. Everyone in dance sport knew about the British reality show Strictly Come Dancing and its American counterpart, Dancing With the Stars. The reality show craze was spreading across the world, and Japan was not immune. Within a month, Shall We Dance? would make its television debut. The dancers clustered in the ballroom now were the professionals chosen to take part in the momentous event.

He was only doing the show for Yachiru, Zaraki thought irritably. He wasn't one to shake his ass on national television, but he also wasn't one to resist his daughter's big, maroon eyes. He scowled. He almost wished that he could get voted off within the first week, but the competitor in him balked at such a thing.

The massive double doors swung open. "Dancers, we have your assignments!" Kyouraku Shunsui crooned, waving a clipboard in his hand. Trailing behind him was 8/13 studio co-owner Ukitake Jyuushiro, professional ballroom dancer and champion Unohana Retsu, and the owner of Aizen Studios, Aizen Sousuke.

The room erupted into pandemonium. Ukitake coughed once, and the noise died immediately. "Thank you," he said with a grin. "First of all, let me say thank you all for agreeing to give up your time for this project. It will serve both of our studios well, I think." He nodded at Aizen, his former student, who smiled and nodded in return. "As you all know, I have been chosen to host the show, and it has been decided that my co-host will be Matsuura Aya." Murmurs raced around the room. Matsuura Aya was a famous television personality, singer, and actress.

"Unohana-san and I have been chosen as the show's dance consultants. We will be choosing what dances will be performed each week and by whom," Aizen added, pushing his glasses up his nose. The dancers clapped politely.

"And I-" Shunsui stuck his chest out. "I will be on the judging panel, along with Shihouin Yoruichi and Yamamoto-Genryuusai Shigekuni."

The silence in the studio was palpable. "Y-Y-Yamamoto-sama is judging?" Kira squawked. Yamamoto-Genryuusai Shigekuni was considered the father of ballroom dancing in Japan. Classically trained in England, he had two Blackpool championships and a handful of world titles under his belt. He had trained Shunsui and Yoruichi to their three championships at Blackpool and Ukitake and Unohana to theirs. He was a permanent fixture on the judging panels for the Blackpool and World championships, and the height to which every dancer aspired.

Shunsui laughed. "Indeed, Yama-ji couldn't resist. But you all should worry about that later, because I have your dance assignments here." He raised an eyebrow. "You do want them, right? After all, you start rehearsals tomorrow." A chorus of "Yes!" met his ear. "Very good. I will read them aloud. Zaraki Kenpachi, you will be paired with Shiba Kuukaku…"

Shunsui's voice droned on, but Zaraki Kenpachi remained where he was, immobile on the studio floor. Shiba Kuukaku, he thought, why was that name familiar?

Suddenly, he remembered a flash of red skirts, furious fairy-green eyes, and red wine down his shirt. He was dancing with that baka onna? Now he remembered who she was – the Shibas were one of Japan's most noble families, just like the Shihouins, the Kuchikis, and the Kyourakus. Children from those families grew up with the spotlight on them, and the Shibas even more so because of the family business.

The Shiba family had been making fireworks ever since the technology was brought to Japan from China. They were the first fireworks company in the world to develop a safe formula for blue fireworks early in the 20th century. They provided the fireworks and developed the shows for most of Japan's fireworks festivals and always did the New Year's Eve fireworks show in Tokyo. So yes, he knew exactly who she was – especially when she tipped her wine down his shirt at Tokyo General Hospital's 31st Annual Charity Ball.

He finally opened his eyes and, glaring in Shunsui's general direction, got to his feet. He was a big man, 6 feet 8 inches, and heavily muscled. He did not have the look of a ballroom dancer, with his long, jet-black hair, heavily scarred body, and chiseled face. One would have been surprised to know he held two Latin World Championship titles and was as light on his feet as Yumichika when he chose. He made his way through the excited, yammering dancers and over to Shunsui.

"Na, Kyouraku." His voice was deep and gravelly. "Wanna tell me why I'm dancin' with the Shiba witch? In case ya haven't noticed, we don't get along so great."

"Ah, gomen, Zaraki," Shunsui said, uncomfortable for the first time, if only because Kuukaku would take his head off for this. "Some of the TBS producers were at the hospital benefit and saw your little…interaction. They thought it would make for interesting chemistry."

"Che." Zaraki's snort was contemptuous. "It ain't gonna be so funny when one of us gets hurt, Kyouraku. But don't worry," he said, an unholy gleam appearing in his coal-black eyes. "I'll try and play nice."

Premiere night

Zaraki sighed, staring at his bronzed hands in amusement. It had been years since he'd gotten all "dolled up" for the dance. His competition days ended the day Yachiru was born and he'd never looked back. And here he was, dressed in black (costumers never put him in any other color), with a sleeveless collared shirt that opened to mid-chest. He did not speak to the woman sitting next to him and barely managed a smile when the camera focused on them.

"Our next dancer is known for her family and their business of colorful explosions – coming up next is heiress, businesswoman, and fireworks expert Shiba Kuukaku and her partner, Zaraki Kenpachi!" he heard Ukitake say over the speakers. Then playback music was heard and the video montage of the last month's rehearsals began to play. "My name is Shiba Kuukaku, and I'm the chairwoman of Shiba Fireworks…"

Kuukaku picked at her costume, slightly horrified. Aniki would split a hole in his side if he saw me now, she thought wryly. Surely Shiba Kaien was laughing somewhere in heaven, because his little sister was sporting a spray-on tan and bright makeup, her spiky hair tamed into glossy black curls. She wore a red bodyshort jumpsuit covered with red, black, and white printed fabric that draped into the appearance of a (very) short dress. And she was wearing heels, a.k.a. torture devices.

She glanced at the matching armband on her right arm, successfully concealing the seam between prosthetics and flesh. Her arm, she thought as the stage manager ushered them towards the dance floor, was the least of her problems with Zaraki Kenpachi.

First dance rehearsal

Kuukaku glared at the door to the studio. True to form, she nearly had ripped off Shunsui's head when she found out her partner was the dolt from the hospital fundraiser. It was tempting to quit there and then, but she knew she wasn't going to. Though the begging and pleading and threats over breaking her contract were entertaining, she never forgot the real reason why she was doing the show: Kaien.

Shiba Kaien had loved ballroom dancing. He had learned it as a child, right along with Shunsui, Byakuya, and Yoruichi, but unlike them, he had no sense of rhythm whatsoever. This didn't stop him from cheering on his friends and following their dance careers with enthusiasm. When he married Miyako, it was Ukitake Jyuushiro who taught them their wedding waltz. Kuukaku saw how hard her brother practiced so that he could get it perfect. The look on his face when he finished the dance and heard the applause was something she would never forget.

When a drunk driver drove into the wrong lane, killing Kaien and Miyako instantly, Kuukaku knew things would never be the same. Their parents had died at a young age, so it was Kaien who was father and mother to her and Ganju. She could never forget that she was dancing for Kaien, and no one, not even that prick of a dancer, was going to stop her from paying tribute to the person she'd loved best.

"What the hell," she muttered, and pushed the door open. The Kenpachi, as she had begun to call him in her mind, pushed himself off the wall and approached. The effect he had on her was the same, she thought. Tall, dark, and damn sexy. She hated pretty boys, and the Kenpachi was all male. Just looking at him made her skin heat. It was annoying. "So, we're dancing together."

He grunted. "I ain't gonna be easy on ya cause we already met."

Kuukaku bared her teeth in a cross between a snarl and a smile. "I didn't sign up for an easy ride. I can take anything you throw at me, cowboy."

"Good. We start with the cha-cha." He took her right hand in his left and paused. Something was off. "The hell is this?"

"Baka." Even though she scowled on the outside, part of her was impressed. Most people's eyes zeroed in on her prosthetic hand, even though it was one of the best money could buy because of its looks and functionality. "Didn't anyone tell you I'm handicapped?" After Kaien's death, she'd thrown herself rather recklessly into the role of chairwoman of Shiba Fireworks. A careless accident with an ill-timed multi-break shell had cost her right arm from the elbow down.

"Is it gonna slow you down?"

She bristled. "Hell no!"

"Then it ain't a problem." Despite herself, her estimation of him rose a little bit. He didn't care. He accepted it and moved on, no questions asked. The first obstacle was over. But minutes later…

"I ain't gonna do no explainin', onna. Ya just go where I tell ya, got it?"

Kuukaku spun to face him, jabbing a finger in his chest. "How the hell is that teaching me how to dance, dumbass, if you don't explain what I'm supposed to do?"

"Ya don't learn by asking questions, onna," he growled, turning her back into position. "Ya learn by doin', and if ya just shut yer trap for a minute, you'll do it." His partner snarled but didn't reply.

Present

Kuukaku winced as the sounds of the video playback echoed into the wings. They were just about ready to take their places for the first dance.

Thud.

"Baka onna! Yer supposed to stay on yer feet, not go sliding across the damn floor!"

"Well, if your goddamn hands had been where they were supposed to-"

The laughter of the studio audience drowned out the rest and she wanted to die. Then she heard her own voice come over the loudspeakers.

"The man is impossible. I don't know how we're going to get through this without killing each other, but I'm still here to win."

That was right. She was here to win, impossible partner or no. She walked onto the dance floor, her head held high, and took her place. Zaraki came up behind her and positioned himself wordlessly.

"Dancing the cha-cha-cha, Shiba Kuukaku and her partner Zaraki Kenpachi."

The lights and the music came on, and she just danced. Perhaps it was the nerves or the lights or the costume, but the dance was nothing like what they had rehearsed. She missed a step there, or fudged up the rhythm there, or didn't spin back into hold. Every time she screwed up, she saw the frustration in her partner's eyes and it made her angry. The anger served her well, pushing her through the dance with fewer mistakes, but the dance still ended stiffly. She barely noticed Ukitake as he congratulated her on her first dance, only noticing that she and her partner were vibrating with suppressed fury.

"Shiba-san, I am disappointed. The footwork was sloppy, your posture was horrible, and you had no musicality. I expected much better from you," Yamamoto said in his rough voice.

"I have to agree." Shunsui's eyes were begging for forgiveness. "Kuukaku, I would like to see you improve for next week. Just concentrate more on the dance and enjoy it!"

"You must work with your partner." Yoruichi, her best friend, stared at her, trying to get her point across. "Teamwork is essential. I saw two people out there, not one couple."

Their score was 4, 5, and 5, for a total of 14 out of 30. They had a long way to go.

That night, Zaraki chased the camera crew out of the studio before he let her have it. "You called that dancing, onna?" he bellowed. "That was bullshit!"

"Well, maybe if you taught me right, it wouldn't have been," she roared back. Clenching her fists, she turned away before the temptation to hit him got too great. "Dumbass."

"Bitch."

She sneered. "Now that's something I haven't heard. Seeing as we have such high opinions of each other now, we'll probably be in love by the end of the week."

"Don't hold yer breath, onna. I think I got better taste'n'that."

Kuukaku slammed her fist in the wall, glad for once that her hand was prosthetic and she almost couldn't feel the impact. "I'm not gonna take any more of that lip from you, Zaraki!"

"So what? Maybe we should just call it quits now, huh?"

"Quits? Don't tell me they put me with a quitter as well as a dumbass!"

The glint in his eye was dangerous as he growled softly, "I ain't no quitter."

"Well good, cause I'm not going anywhere until my ass is booted off the show!" She clamped her teeth together, desperately wishing she had her pipe.

His grin was savage and satisfied. "Good. Then we practice. Ya better pray that we get a higher score, or it will be your ass booted off next week."

The improvement on their foxtrot for the next week was better, but still disappointing, giving them a score of 17 out of 30. But they were not eliminated: it was Soi Fong and her sumo-wrestling partner Jidanbo and Gin and his gothic-Lolita model partner Sarugaki Hiyori who were voted off in a double elimination. Soi Fong nearly dropped to her knees and wept onstage because she was so happy to go, and even Gin's perpetual smile was wobbly at the corners. They had been more ill suited for their partners than even Zaraki and Kuukaku.

Round 3 and Round 4 brought the jive and quickstep, and Kuukaku saw firsthand how well her partner moved. Against all odds, they were still there, perhaps because the audience was constantly entertained by their bickering. Their improvement was slow, but getting better, with a score of 18 for the jive and 20 for the quickstep. Nel and her partner, kabuki actor Hirako Shinji left the show in Round 3, followed by Nanao and her partner, actor Kojima Mizuiro the next week. That elimination did wonders for Shunsui's temperament now that Nanao was out of the playboy actor's sights.

It was Round 5 and the samba that turned the tide for the volatile couple, who were slowly learning to respect one another.

"It's a sexy dance," Zaraki told her, his arms folded. "There ain't a lot of steps in hold, and it involves a lot of ya dancing around me. It's like I'm chasin' ya and yer teasin' me'n'leadin' me on. It's flirtatious."

"I'm not a flirt," Kuukaku said flatly, tapping her toe. The acting was her weakness now, not necessarily the technique. She'd been lucky with the dances so far – the jive and quickstep were bright, energetic, and fast, and she could handle that. The first cha-cha had been lively but fueled by anger rather than cheekiness. The foxtrot had been the worst for her – how was she supposed to feel romantic when she wanted to strangle her partner more than she wanted to kiss him? And now she was supposed to flirt? She wasn't sure if she even knew how to flirt.

"Well, ya have to." He smirked at her. "Ya gotta pretend ya like me, even just a little bit."

"Well, I don't, so that's going to be a problem."

Zaraki's eyes hardened. "Well, I don't like ya either, onna, but I can still act like I do." To prove his point, he stepped into her space deliberately, circling her slowly. He stopped behind her and took her left hand in his and pointed them at the ceiling, his other hand resting possessively over her stomach. He spun her across the floor, molding her back to his chest in a samba roll. He stopped, dropping their raised hands to caress the side of her face while his right hand, still on her stomach, rolled their hips together in a figure-eight movement. He spun her out to the side and back so forcefully she all but slammed against him, his breath warm on her lips.

Kuukaku was in a feverish haze. It was the most blatantly sexual move they'd ever done. Her blood was pulsing hotly through her veins, positively singing with want. Her skin felt like it was stretched too tight over her body and for one crazy moment, she considered what it might be like to kiss Zaraki Kenpachi.

But he stepped away with a self-satisfied grin. "Fooled ya, didn't I?" His cockiness belied his own reaction – the sheer want had come straight out of left field like a punch to the gut. For the first time, he realized just how desirable Kuukaku was – her body was compact and curvy, with legs for days. Her features were too strong for traditional beauty, but he rather liked them. And her eyes had gone a deep and mossy green…he wondered if he could make her eyes darken like that again. A fascinating idea, he mused.

Slap. "Bastard," Kuukaku panted. She was not going to be disappointed that he hadn't followed through. No, he'd given her a new goal: if Zaraki wanted flirtatious, she thought darkly, he'd get flirtatious. She'd tease him until he didn't know which way was up anymore. "Come on, let's do this."

Show night came quickly. Kuukaku knew that they had to do fantastic this week, because there were better dancers and more popular couples. They needed a high score from the judges because there was no way she could compete for viewers votes right now, not against couples like Hisagi Shuuhei and singer/dancer BoA and Hinamori Momo and actor Abe Hiroshi. Those couples had held the top two places in the judges' leader board since the very beginning.

She plucked at the short, backless, black-fringed dress with a rhinestone-studded bustier. She was adjusting to all of the ridiculous costumes and the fake tans and the makeup. It was kind of like playing dress-up. While she waited to go on and perform, she watched as Abe Hiroshi received a 28 out of 30 for his Viennese waltz. She fidgeted. No doubt about it – they needed a good score.

That strengthened her resolve. They would get a good score if she had anything to say about it. They took their places. The lights went up, the music started, and she turned on the charm, her face lighting up in a coy grin.

The dance was a blur. But she knew she hit every step and acted the hell out of it – instead of slapping Zaraki's butt as she crossed behind him, she indulged herself in a pinch. Her inner devil was out tonight – besides, he has such a nice behind, she laughed inwardly. When the music stopped and the crowd roared to their feet, she knew she'd done it. She bared her teeth in a triumphant grin as she looked down into Zaraki's surprised face.

"Kuukaku-san, that was wonderful," Ukitake said warmly as he greeted them. "Let's go see what the judges say, shall we?" He turned to the judging table. "Yoruichi-san?"

Kuukaku nearly jumped a foot in the air when she felt Zaraki come up behind her and place a hand at the small of her back. He'd never done that before; when they weren't dancing, he preferred to keep a five-foot no man's zone around him. Sure, other partners did the close-knit routine by standing close together and hugging each other or giving a kiss on the cheek after receiving good comments, but never them.

"That is what I'm talking about," the mocha-skinned woman said with satisfaction. Her golden eyes gleamed and Kuukaku groaned inwardly, knowing that she noticed the change. She was in for it later. "You finally stopped fighting each other on the dance floor and danced together. Kuukaku, your technique has improved so much over the past few weeks. This is the best dance I've seen you do so far." She beamed while the audience applauded.

"It's the best samba of the night!" Shunsui cried. "Such chemistry – I think you both took everyone by surprise tonight. Yoruichi is right – you are finally showing yourselves as a couple and it worked." He winked and Kuukaku grinned back.

"Yamamoto-san?" Ukitake asked.

"I was very impressed. Your technique is better – you showed the bounce of the samba perfectly. Your footwork was good, and you only need to work more on your posture," was the eminent judge's input. Kuukaku actually cheered out loud – it was his first compliment.

Their score that week was three straight 8s for a score of 24, and it was enough to save them, for it was Matsumoto and her partner, actor Hayami Mokomichi, who was sent home. Round 6 was the hardest yet – they had to perform two dances, the ones that they had not performed during Rounds 1 and 2. Their scores improved with a 25 for the waltz and a 26 for the paso doble. Everyone said farewell to Yumichika and model Sada Mayumi that week.

Round 7 brought them the rumba and the group swing. A swing choreographer was brought in from America to guide the remaining dancers through the steps of the wholly American dance. The single day of rehearsal allowed everyone to check out their competition and Kuukaku put her all into that rehearsal to show everyone that she was determined to stay in the game. The lifts and the rumba were going to be a problem, though.

But even those paled in comparison to meeting Yachiru.

"Ken-chaaaaaan!" All dance activity stopped as a petite, pink-haired bullet streaked into the studio and jumped onto Zaraki's back. A mischievous, rosy face peered at her from over his massive shoulder. "Am I interrupting?"

Kuukaku snorted. "I'd say you are, gaki."

"Onna, this is Kusajishi Yachiru. My daughter." Zaraki glanced at the girl who was still clinging to him. "Ain't ya supposed to be in dance class right now?"

"Nanao-chan doesn't care what I do, Ken-chan, and I wanted to meet your partner!" A stupefied Kuukaku found herself being assessed by serious maroon eyes. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being weighed and measured by the girl. "You dance well, Green-Eyes," she said eventually, turning a 100-megawatt grin on her.

Despite herself (and the nickname), Kuukaku was charmed. "Thanks, gaki."

"Right." Zaraki watched the exchange between the two with amusement. It looked like Kuukaku passed Yachiru's test, though he wished that it hadn't taken place in front of the camera crew. "Even if ya finished class, ya still got homework. Practice."

"Aw, but Ken-chan, I wanted to watch!"

His voice softened. "Later, Yachiru."

She sighed. "Fine." Slipping off his back, she waved. "Bye, Green-Eyes! I'll be back to watch later!" With that, she skipped out of the room.

Kuukaku looked from the girl to Zaraki, her eyebrow raised. Giving her a look that clearly said "later," Zaraki crossed his arms. "Lifts," he said crossly. "They didn't go well during the group rehearsal."

She gave him a black look. "This," she said, motioning to her prosthetic arm. "Is not good for lifts."

"Don't give me excuses," Zaraki snapped. "We practice 'til it's perfect, then we rumba." Kuukaku fumed but complied, and he grinned. They were making progress.

Later, when the camera crew left, she looked at him while they stretched. "So, Yachiru's your daughter," she said neutrally. She didn't know why, but part of her sank when she saw the precocious girl. She'd just assumed that he was a loner because he seemed like that type of guy. But to think that perhaps he was married – but he doesn't have a ring, part of her argued, and the other half wondered why she even cared.

He grunted. "Yeah. So?"

"This is a compliment to her – she looks nothing like you."

He barked out a laugh. "It's cause she ain't really mine." Kuukaku's head snapped around and she stared at him, shocked. "Her ma was my partner – Kusajishi Emiko. She got knocked up, her parents disowned her, and she came to me." He shrugged. "I took care of her – Emiko stayed with me longer'n'any other partner. We were close." That single statement held a world of meaning, and Kuukaku knew that in his own way, the Kenpachi had loved his partner.

"Yachiru's small – she's like her ma. Girl's body couldn't handle bein' pregnant. She barely hung on till the end. Told me t'name the baby, cause she was mine now. Then she was gone." He let out a long breath. "I adopted Yachiru, but I wanted her to have her ma's name. That's why she's Kusajishi, not Zaraki."

"Well, she's still you in every other way," Kuukaku murmured. She looked away, oddly embarrassed. "You should be proud. She's beautiful." He didn't say anything, but she knew he was staring at her. She got that hot, burning feeling again – almost like she had a fever – but she didn't mind: it was such a lovely way to burn. But this time there was more than sheer lust. She could really learn to care for him, she realized. He put up with her shit and gave just as good as he got. He didn't back down – he was someone who could stand as her equal.

And the whole story with Yachiru…what sane woman could resist a man who cared that much about someone that he would raise her daughter as his own? Hell, Kuukaku was inclined to admit that she was insane most of the time, and she couldn't resist him. Aniki, she thought helplessly, what kind of strings are you pulling up there? Kaien maintained that everyone had a soul mate, even his fiery little sister.

What would Kaien have thought of the Kenpachi? she wondered. She could almost hear him laughing at her: "Kuu-chan," he'd say, ruffling her hair. "'Bout time you found someone who could take your sass." Gods, she couldn't find the strength to meet his gaze, not when she was feeling like this…

"Kuu-chan!" Yoruichi sang from the doorway. "Come on, it's time to…" she trailed off when she saw the tableau in front of her. "Am I interrupting?" she asked slyly, echoing Yachiru's earlier words.

Zaraki was on his feet before Kuukaku could even blink. "Nah, time for Yachiru to eat. I'll see ya at practice tomorrow, onna." Then he was gone.

"He moves fast for such a big man," she muttered.

"In what way?" Yoruichi's eyebrows wiggled as she plopped down next to her friend. "You know, I have a theory why you guys have stayed in as long as you have and why you might stay until the finals."

"It's not because of our spectacular dancing?" was the wry reply.

The Shihouin heiress laughed. "That's only part of it. The entertainment factor has kept you in thus far. Your fights are spectacular." Kuukaku rolled her eyes and lay back on the studio floor. "But you two are really winning over the public, you know why?"

"Why?" She closed her eyes.

"They want to see you two fall in love."

She shot back up. "The hell?"

"Please, do you think I'm the only one who noticed how things changed after the samba? You stand closer, you touch each other more – dancing doesn't count, by the way – and the chemistry!" She whistled. "Kuu-chan, it's like fireworks – no pun intended. You can see it even on TV."

"What are you talking about?" She stared at her friend, panicked. She was only starting to think this way and others had been seeing it for weeks? "You've got to be kidding me, right? We fight all the time!"

"Foreplay," was the bland retort. "Please, your fights are so sexually charged that you've got housewives in Okinawa getting hot flashes."

Kuukaku sputtered and Yoruichi laughed gaily. "Oh please, don't tell me that I'm wrong!" she chortled. "You can deny it all you want, Kuu-chan, but you want that man. If I don't see a kiss by the finals, I'll be severely disappointed. Now come on, I'm starving!"

The lift went perfectly for the group swing. They had practiced so hard that it was easy as pie, sailing over his head in a jump split. The group dance was her favorite so far – it was great to move around the floor with other contestants and the swing was just fun. Their rumba – she bemoaned the fact that they had to perform the most sensual of the dances now, it was excellent timing – earned them their highest score to date – straight 9s for a 27. In the Round 7 eliminations, Nemu and comedian Hamada Masatoshi went home.

"We're dancin' the tango and the Viennese waltz this week," Zaraki said. "I don't know about ya, onna, but I want tens this week."

"Good, then we're agreed." Her hands were on her hips. "What now?"

"Tango. It's emotional. Ya gotta hate me, but ya gotta love me at the same time." He moved over to the boom box to choose the music. "It's about me wantin' ya and ya wantin' me, though ya sure as hell don't wanna admit it."

"Well, that just suits us perfectly, doesn't it?" she muttered under her breath.

"Does it now?" His voice was deep and amused behind her.

"Shit." She hadn't meant for him to hear that. And with that ridiculous boom microphone, the camera crew probably heard it, too.

"Well." He assumed the closed position. As he corrected her hold, the look in his eyes was positively wicked. "Let's get on with the lovin' and hatin' now, shall we?"

Zaraki seemed content to tease her when they practiced the Viennese waltz, as well. "Let's try for just the lovin' now, eh Shiba?" He asked as they spun around the room.

"Bite me."

His inky eyes seemed to darken even more, if such a thing was possible. "Gladly," he growled, and she waved goodbye to her nerves. Gods, she thought desperately, it should be illegal for his voice to be that deep and sexy, like sand sliding over velvet.

He continued on as if that exchange never happened. "Now, into the split-" Shifting his hold and lowering her with his right arm, he stopped, thinking. "We could-"

"Goddammit, can you do your thinking when I haven't got my legs in a bloody 180 degree angle?" she barked, her leg muscles screaming. "You can't leave me down here!"

He pulled her back onto her feet. "Sorry." There was a pause. "Ya got a good stretch there, though."

"Shut up. What next?" But she couldn't help the twinge at the corner of her mouth.

What was next was two 30s in a row.

"Beautiful!" Shunsui crowed. "You toed the line between love and hate, and the chemistry was sizzling! You kept it superbly controlled – perfection." Somehow, Kuukaku found her hand in Zaraki's and she squeezed it with all her might. Perfection could only mean one thing on this show.

"I was absolutely mesmerized by you two – do you agree with me?" Yoruichi turned to the audience, who roared with approval. "That was the essence of tango, sensual and hot. It's the best I've seen this season." Her eyes danced, saying, "I told you so."

Yamamoto actually smiled at her. "You have shown us everything you have for this dance, Shiba-san, and you did not disappoint. Your control, your hold, your posture, your footwork, and your head snaps – everything was perfect." Back in the waiting room, as each judge said "Ten!" she couldn't contain herself anymore – she leaped into Zaraki's arms, impulsively pressing her lips to his cheek.

I hate it when Yoruichi's right, she thought.

There was now a three-way tie for first place on the judge's leader board, and Kira was sent home with actress Nakama Yukie. That left four couples for the semi-finals. The challenge for Round 9 was a freestyle dance and a judge's choice dance. Shunsui, Yoruichi, and Yamamoto picked the cha-cha for Kuukaku, to see if she could improve on that dismal first dance. That was no problem for her: after nine additional weeks of practice, the cha-cha was cake. It was the freestyle that was the problem.

Kuukaku would never admit it, but Dirty Dancing was one of her favorite movies. Johnny Castle was the man of her dreams: strong, realistic, slightly broken, thoroughly masculine, and a dancing dream. She sure as hell was no Baby, but that didn't stop her from wanting to perform the famous dance.

"I've got an idea for the freestyle dance," she told Zaraki, handing him the movie.

"The hell is this?" He examined the DVD cover. "A dance movie?"

"You don't watch dance movies?"

He snorted derisively. "Che. I dance every day, have for the past twenty-five years. I ain't gonna go to the movies to see more of it. What dance do ya wanna show me?"

They found a TV and she fast-forwarded to the end to show him the final dance. He roared with laughter. "The fuck is this? You call that pansy-ass dance a mambo?"

"Pansy-ass?" She turned on him, incensed. She loved this dance, damn it! "What the hell do you mean by pansy-ass? I bet you can't even do that lift," she taunted, knowing the perfect way to bait him. "I might be too much woman for you."

"Baka onna. I could lift you in my fuckin' sleep."

Her grin was absolutely evil. "Then prove it, lover boy."

They ended up taking the general structure of the dance and elaborating on it while keeping the elements that made it one of the most famous and recognizable in the world. The lift was hard: Kuukaku was not a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, and despite Zaraki's immense strength, it was slow going.

"You're telling me that I'm just supposed to jump and you'll catch me?" Kuukaku said dubiously.

Zaraki glared at her from the middle of the crash mats they'd laid down on the studio floor. "That's what I'm tellin' ya, onna."

"I can't even put my hands on your shoulders?" Suddenly, the thought of being hefted almost seven feet in the air wasn't so appealing.

"Did she do that?" he said, motioning at the frozen television screen.

"That's different! She's a stick!"

"Onna." He put his hands on her shoulders and looked hard into her eyes. "Trust me."

She gulped. Why did she get the feeling he was asking for more than just her trust?

They were still practicing by show day. Their cha-cha received a perfect 30 and then suddenly they were out of time – and they only had five successful lifts under their belts.

She stood in the center of the dance floor, wearing a simple, demure pink dress that made her feel more feminine than any other dress she'd worn thus far. Zaraki strode forward as the music started, looking exactly like Johnny in black pants and a tight, short-sleeved black shirt. He pulled her to him and dipped her slowly while the crowd cheered, recognizing their costumes and the music.

"Relax," he muttered in her ear as she stood in front of him, draping her left arm around his neck. "We got this…even if it is a pansy dance."

She couldn't retort, because his hand was trailing down her side and he was spinning her out. From there, it was a blur of basics, under-arm turns, cross-body leads, and accentuated hip movement that characterized the passionate and most raunchy of the ballroom dances. She wasn't going to lie; she enjoyed the grinding motion of the hips as much as any teenager.

All of a sudden, it was time for the lift, and Zaraki was standing in the middle of the floor, a question in his eyes. Do you trust me?

Just like in the movie, she set her shoulders and nodded, walking down the steps from the elevated part of the stage. She ran towards him, felt his hands on her waist as she sprang up-

-And she was flying, her arms spread out, a triumphant grin on her face. The audience sprang to their feet, the applause deafening. He brought her down slowly and for one moment she swore she felt his lips on her forehead, but it all happened so quickly that she had to have been wrong. It ended with her cradled in his arms with him staring down into her exhilarated face. Zaraki wasn't sure what happened, but the look in her eyes was certain to keep him up that night, thinking over a great many things.

"Take it back," she panted.

"Take what back?"

"It's not a pansy dance."

He grinned. "It's all right."

It was more than "all right" – with yet another perfect 30, Kuukaku and Zaraki found themselves in a place they never would have dreamed of: the finals. Their combined judges' and viewer votes put them in the top two, and in the semi-final eliminations Hitsugaya and women's soccer star Kurosaki Karin and Hinamori and Abe Hiroshi danced their final dances. In her wildest dreams, Kuukaku would have never believed that she could beat out Abe Hiroshi. But she had, and now she was fighting BoA for the mirror-ball trophy.

"I don't care if that thing's as gaudy as a velvet Elvis," she told Zaraki in the studio. They were having their mini-interview for the finals, discussing what two dances they wanted to perform for the final vote. "I want that trophy."

"Then we'll get it," he replied. "What dances do ya wanna do?"

She pondered. "I want our best dances," she said slowly. "Not necessarily the ones that got 30s the first time, even though that would be a good thing. I want to have fun. So…samba?"

They were sitting on two chairs set in front of the camera. He lounged back with one arm thrown draped on the back of her chair while she sat slightly forward. Kuukaku glanced back at her partner when she made the suggestion and saw the light in his eyes shift oh-so-dangerously. Oh yes, he remembered the samba. "Samba works."

"And the tango." She wanted to do one Standard and one Latin dance and there was no Standard dance quite like the tango. Gods, she thought briefly, they were giving the public all the fodder they needed. If the director's motive wasn't to wring out as much fluff as he could she would eat her pipe.

His lips curved lazily. "Works for me."

"Cut!" the director said. "Now, Zaraki-san, can you please recall your experiences with Shiba-san and what you thought of her?"

Fodder indeed. Kuukaku resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands.

"I didn't like her at first. Sometimes, I still don't." She shot him a dirty look. He gave her an unrepentant grin. "But I respect her. She dances well…with me."

Her head shot around so fast she almost got whiplash. There were so many ways that statement could be taken…

Apparently the director thought so too, because he looked like the cat that just caught the canary. "And you, Shiba-san?"

Two could play this game, she thought. "I didn't like him either and I still don't, sometimes. But I like dancing with him. It's a shame to think next week will be our final dance."

"Cut! Thank you, Zaraki-san, Shiba-san. We'll let you get back to your practice!"

Zaraki's hand caught her elbow as she made to stand up. "Trust me, onna, it ain't gonna be the last time." With that, he brushed past an open-mouthed Kuukaku, an equally flabbergasted crew, and an irate director who wished he'd kept the camera rolling.

They received 30s on their samba and their rumba – now, it was up to the viewer votes. Kuukaku hated to admit it, but she was counting on those housewives in Okinawa. In terms of celebrity, she had absolutely nothing on BoA. Hell, she was a celebrity in name only in Japan – it was Kaien who had been beloved by the people. She was most certainly the dark horse, so if people voted because they thought something was going on between her and the Kenpachi – and fine, something was – then so be it.

The night of the results show, she got into her favorite costume. Her tango dress went from neck to toe, swathing her in black lace, with a single red rosette on her left hip and a slit to mid-thigh on her right side. It made her feel powerful and confident.

Zaraki was in the men's dressing room adjusting his black vest when Ukitake came to find him. "Zaraki-san, Yachiru would like to wish you luck before the show. She's waiting by the wings."

Yachiru leapt into her father's arms. "Ken-chan, you're going to win tonight, I know." She grinned at him. "I made a bet with Baldy-chan."

He rolled his eyes. Ever since she'd won the bet concerning Nanao and Shunsui, she'd been making bets on everything and with everyone – especially Ikkaku. "Thanks."

She gave him a speculative look, which was unnerving coming from an eight year old. "Are you nervous, Ken-chan?"

"Not about winning," he muttered.

"Is it about Green-Eyes?" she queried.

She was ridiculously perceptive sometimes. "That baka onna? No."

Smiling sweetly, she persisted. "I like her, Ken-chan."

"I know ya do." Since their first meeting, Kuukaku had even encouraged Yachiru to come to the studio and sometimes all three of them went out to eat. Kuukaku was different from other women who saw Yachiru's pink hair and short stature and baby-talked her. Like the women of the studio, she spoke to his daughter as if they were equals. Yachiru liked that.

"No, Ken-chan, you don't." She stared at him. "I really like her. For you." With that she hopped down and skipped away, waving gaily. "Gambare!"

Zaraki shook his head, a corner of his mouth tilting up. "I like her for you too, Yachiru," he said to the air.

Everyone who had been voted off returned for the last show and danced one more dance. Video montages were played and Ukitake and Matsuura Aya drew out the suspense. Back in the waiting room, Kuukaku fussed with her dress. BoA, who was sitting next to her, smiled and took her hand in hers. "Kuukaku-chan, I want you to know that no matter who wins tonight, I've had so much fun with you throughout this competition. You're a marvelous dancer."

Kuukaku grinned at her fellow competitor, who wore a light blue ball gown. "Thanks, BoA. Coming from you, that's a high compliment. May the best woman win, eh?"

The pop superstar shook her hand. "Of course." She looked back at her partner, Hisagi Shuuhei, and he smiled reassuringly. The gossip mill had been running about those two as well, but it was clear to anyone who saw them for more than a few minutes that they were like brother and sister. And there was no mistaking Hisagi's feelings about his real partner, Kotetsu Isane. The two lit up like light bulbs every time they saw each other. It was rather sickening, Kuukaku thought. But then again, she'd never been a romantic.

Even the thing with the Kenpachi didn't change that. She wasn't going to turn into a pile of goo anytime soon, even though she admitted that sometimes she had a little bit of trouble breathing when he looked at her that way.

"BoA-san, Shiba-san, time for you to go onstage!" the stage manager said finally.

The lights were too bright – Kuukaku couldn't see anyone in the audience, not even the judges. Shunsui, Yoruichi, and Yamamoto-san had said their pieces earlier about who should win: basically, it was a toss-up. It was a case of the best dancer versus the most improved dancer. It could go either way, they'd said. Both deserved the win.

Matsuura Aya was reiterating this once more and Kuukaku just wanted to scream "Get on with it!" She felt Zaraki's hands settle on her shoulders, warm and comforting in their strength, and she calmed down.

"BoA-san, Kuukaku-san, the votes have been tallied." Ukitake said. He pulled an envelope out of his suit jacket. "The winner of Shall We Dance? and the mirror ball trophy is…"

The silence stretched on and on and on. Kuukaku gave in to her nerves, her hands flying up to grip Zaraki's. She didn't want to disappoint him, she thought. He'd given her close to four months of his time, and for all of it to go to waste…

Her priorities were blurred. Somewhere along the line, she found that she was no longer doing this just for Kaien. She was doing it for the Kenpachi, too. No, she hadn't forgotten her brother. But suddenly the person she'd loved most now shared space in her heart with someone else. The win – if she won – would be for both of them. Could she call it love? She wasn't sure.

"Shiba Kuukaku!"

She blinked. Then she screamed, turned around, and jumped into her partner's arms. She didn't even think when she tilted her head up and pressed her lips against his.

But boy did she feel it. It was like lighting a thousand roman candles, she thought, losing herself in the sheer power of that kiss. It was all heat and rockets and dear gods, were her toes really curling? Who would have thought that the Kenpachi was an excellent kisser? The man was a magician with his lips…

She barely remembered pulling away and accepting her trophy and the congratulations from the other contestants, dancers, and judges. Her eyes kept straying back to him. Finally, when all the interviews and well-wishers drifted away, the cast, crew, and their families adjourned to the 8/13's ballroom for an after party.

Kuukaku had her cheek pressed to Zaraki's shoulder as they swayed slowly on the dance floor. Who would have thought things would end up this way? she thought, amused. She was so sure she would be dying to get away from him after the show and that they would go their separate ways without a second thought, but she wasn't willing to do that anymore. They just made sense together – and that was what she was going to tell him. No dancing around, no muss, no fuss: just the truth. "So, now that the show is over-" she began.

"I ain't givin' ya up, ya goddamn troublesome woman," Zaraki growled.

Her head jerked up and she gaped at him. Finally, her lips thinned and she punched his shoulder. "Baka, you stole what I was going to say!" she shouted, smarting at having her thunder stolen.

He smirked. "Just remember who said it first, onna."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "If we're going to talk about who did what first, may I remind you that I'm the one that kissed you first?" His eyes darkened and she smiled smugly. "What, no smart-ass comment?" His response was to yank her closer, his lips slanting over hers possessively.

A commotion erupted on the other side of the room. "What's that?" she asked breathlessly.

"Probably Kyouraku. He was plannin' on proposin' to Ise tonight."

"That's nice." She looked at him pointedly, ignoring the flowery proclamation that was going on elsewhere. "I believe we were in the middle of something?"

His laugh echoed across the ballroom.

Yachiru turned sleepy, satisfied eyes on Ikkaku. "Pay up, Baldy-chan!"

Please review or Zaraki won't dance with you! I'm giving Mayuri a break XD

Good lord, I had an inordinate amount of fun writing this story. I can't tell you how many times I burst out laughing when I was writing. I hope everyone enjoyed this, because I certainly did! Zaraki and Kuukaku were surprisingly easy to write! There isn't as much fluff in this as the others in the series, but come on, can you see either one of them getting googly-eyed and declaring their love for each other? I think the sky would turn green. No, these two are more likely to scream it at each other or something. Anyway, writing this story within my own modified Dancing With the Stars format was so much fun, especially since the new season started the week I began writing this. Again, major props to AriKitten for her amazing story Shelter From the Storm - the inspiration for this story. I shamelessly stole the idea of Kuukaku calling Zaraki "the Kenpachi." Next is Ikkaku, Kiyone, and the Viennese waltz!

Thanks again to poptate, my wonderful beta! I also dedicate this story to MatsuMama as a belated wedding present - you are such a wonderful friend, and the past few months would have been so different without you and your amazing words (in e-mails and stories!). Have a fantastic honeymoon!