Okay and welcome to the next chapter of Arcana!

*ducks*

I'm so sorry for the delay. It seems the people who enjoy the rest of my stories have taken a leaf out of your book and have become far more, shall we say, vocal about their desires for updates. I beg your understanding and patience as I try to please, well, everyone...including my demanding Muse.

A big huge thank you goes to VioTanequil who beta'd this with awesome speed.

"Good Afternoon Miss Measures. I believe Mr. Winters is expecting you."

Isabelle nodded as the maitre d' smiled at her. She did not need to look at the clock next to her know that she was late for their meeting. But, then again, being a few minutes late was hardly cause for concern. If anything it would help her make the kind of entrance she needed to make if she was going to pull this off. The maitre d' nodded to the hostess before motioning her forward. Isabelle followed him into the main dining room, holding her head high as he led her to the table. She glanced at the people; her would-be husband and his brother were predictable. But the man sitting across from them was not. The maitre d' stopped and looked at the men.

"Miss Measures," he said.

Byakuya felt every muscle in his body clench. He could see gold out of the corner of his eye and knew all he had to do was turn his head. But he was finding that an exceptionally difficult thing to do. Features still schooled in a mask of impassiveness he turned his head to face the woman that Halibel had once been--the woman she was now. He was not prepared for the feeling that grabbed him the moment he looked at her.

It felt as though he had been punched in the stomach.

The dress she wore was somehow the exact shade of her skin, the texture of the fabric the only thing keeping her from looking completely nude. As it was, a passing glance would force the man to look twice. Draping in the front managed to conceal a good portion of her breasts but the teasing glimpse was somehow much worse than when her breasts had been almost completely exposed. The dress hugged every curve she had, offering teasing hints but never completely giving the secret away. It came to the floor but that was not where Byakuya's eyes were drawn. Her hair was pulled back, a few locks permitted to fall around her features. She would never be china-doll pretty or delicate at all really. But there was something almost primal about her features, something one could not help but be drawn to. Earrings and a few bracelets were her only jewelry, the skin of her neck and shoulders left wonderfully bare.

"Ah, Mr. Sakamoto, may I present my fiancée, Habibah Measures."

It was a miracle that Byakuya found his way to his feet with any sort of grace. She looked at him with the same teal eyes he had not seen in almost half a century and he felt paralyzed. That look, that look that seemed to say that even if she could not read everything he was, she did not particularly care. It was infuriating and intriguing all at the same time and, despite his best effort to be unaffected by it, Byakuya found it was impossible not to care. Even in this new form, even as she did not remember him, she still had the exact same look in her eyes. The look he had first seen when he had come into Mayuri's lab and found her there nude, with a thousand times more dignity that he was sure he would display had their positions been reversed.

"Miss Measures," Byakuya said in greeting.

"Mr. Sakamoto," she replied.

It was only through supreme force of will that Isabelle kept her features as calm as they were. She had seen this man in passing before, but now faced with him, Isabelle felt more off put than she had in some time. She had thought that her life as it was, living with the constant threat of being discovered and killed, would have steeled her against anything. She did not realize, until she faced him, just how completely wrong she had been. Her face remained serene, giving away nothing, as she had been trained to do. First on stage, then when her fiancé paraded her around as though she was some prize, and now when she was faced with a man who could destroy everything. A man who was supposed to be dead.

A man who she knew she had seen before.

Isabelle could not say where or when she had seen him but she knew, with every fiber of her being, that this man was familiar. His resemblance to Sakamoto was very close, but the man in front of her was not him. Sakamoto had made his own money, made his own way in the world and everything he did had a cocky air about it. But the man in front of her, he had been born to the power he wielded. There was thinly veiled arrogance, something that clearly came from what he had accomplished. But the silver spoon had been in his mouth from the moment he had taken his first breath. Isabelle tried to think of where she would possibly have met a man like him but nothing came to her.

"Have we met before?" Isabelle asked looking at him.

"Only in passing, Miss Measures," Byakuya said, pleased that his voice came out cool.

Isabelle nodded without completely believing him and sat down in the chair that was pulled out for her. She never enjoyed these dinners but they were a necessary part of the life she was attempting to uphold. There was a time when she had been so floored by these lavish things she had been too overwhelmed to speak. Of course she been very young and yet had quickly learned that in parties such as these she was not actually supposed to talk. Not in any way that really mattered. She had no illusions about her role at the dinner table--nor did her low cut dress. She was arm candy, simple as that, a pretty thing designed to sit there and look exactly like that. Her opinions, they did not matter, nor did anything she did. All that she had to do was sit there quietly.

Sit there and try not to scream.

All she wanted to do--just as she had wanted for some time--was to run as far away from this place as she could. There was a certain irony in it really. She had seen who her fiancé was, she had seen it and yet he had been fine with it. Fine with it, of course, until she realized that however bad she had thought him he was a hundred times worse. Conspiring against his brother was bad, but it was worse that he saw nothing wrong with ripping everything Noel had worked or away from her. Still neither of those things had been enough to make her want to leave him. She hadn't wanted to go until that first night when he slapped her over some trivial thing. Until the night a few weeks later when he had blackened her eye to the point where makeup couldn't quite cover it. But it wasn't until a few months of occasional beatings had gone by, until the night he threw her down and had his way without her willingness that she had gone to the police.

She hadn't known then of dirty cops and payouts from his family. Hadn't known until the police car had pulled up to the mansion and she had felt as though she was being led to the gallows. He had taught her a lesson, well, that was what he called it. She called it a two-day period where she stayed inside because the swelling in her face was too sever for her to go outside without questions being asked, without her being forced to give explanations that she couldn't possibly give. After that it had taken weeks for her to find a police officer, to make sure that he was not corrupted or dirty. And Nicholas Grimm hadn't been--not in the beginning anyway. But he had been willing and she had been desperate and, most importantly, Patrick trusted him. If Patrick, who saw through people's lies better than anyone she had ever known trusted him, then Isabelle had decided she could as well.

She knew she had made the right decision but it felt like it was taking forever for it to pay off. Every glance, every question, every time someone spoke to her she felt as though she was under a magnifying glass. She knew they had no idea, but she felt as though they did. As though every time they looked at her they could see what she was really doing. It was the most nerve racking thing she had ever done in her entire life. When it was done, when she was not tiptoeing on egg shells every second of every day, as she had been for almost an entire year, she had a feeling she was going to sleep for a week.

"Miss Measures," her fingers paused on the stem of the wine glass as she turned and looked at the man pretending to be Sakamoto, "Mr. Winters has informed me you are a performer."

"I was," Isabelle said with a smile as she looked at him while the two other men shifted slightly in displeasure, "but my now I focus on my charity work."

Charity was a funny name for it, since aside from checks being written very little charity work actually happened. It was far more for the women in her same financial situation to strut their money and fashion. Of course they seemed to actually enjoy it whereas she simply left there feeling suffocated by the thinly veiled egos. The dislike of such things was probably the only thing she shared with Noel--that and the fact they both wanted her fiancé to be in an ungodly amount of pain. Isabelle glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, pleased to see the narrowing of his eyes--a sure sign that he was less than pleased with the topic at she let it drop, instead taking a sip of her wine.

"Well," Mr. Winters spoke, "if nothing else, Isabelle's musical talents did make it easy for her to learn English.

"English?" Byakuya looked at her, surprised, "what is your first language?"

"Arabic," Isabelle said setting down the glass of wine, "I learned English when I was very young."

"Where are you from?" Byakuya inquired, trying to learn more.

"Egypt," she replied, Aswan to be exact," she looked at him, "and where are you from?"

Byakuya looked at her carefully, considering his answer to the question. He knew what his answer should have been, he knew that Mr. Sakamoto had been born in Tokyo but, just for a moment, he found himself considering telling her the truth. He quickly dismissed the notion knowing that even if he did somehow tell her the truth she would not understand.

"I was born in Tokyo," he said instead.

She nodded with a smile but Byakuya was not foolish enough to think it was genuine.

As dinner wore on, he found himself increasingly infuriated with the two men sitting across from him. He had never enjoyed the social obligations that came with his station. Yoruichi had once told him that the very definition of an aristocrat was someone who said one thing and did another. But his patience was wearing thin. He was not sure when he had all but lost the stomach for these things, perhaps it was thirty years ago when the Elders began, once more, to pester him with marriages or maybe it was twenty years ago when Kohaku had been finally declared heir apparent to the Shihouin Name and Yoruichi's presence was quietly faded out. He was not sure, all he was certain of was that he was frustrated beyond belief. Especially with the man sitting directly across who seemed to alternate between thinly veiled hungry looks at Halibel and equally poorly hidden looks of ambition towards his brother.

Throughout the meal though, Halibel conducted herself spectacularly. To the point where the thought crossed Byakuya's mind of how she could interact at the incredibly boring council functions of the Kuchiki clan. The moment the thought crossed his mind, however, he quickly pushed it aside. There was no point in even considering what he was thinking of, for far more reasons than he could list off the top of his head. Not the least of which was her history. He had learned to see past her actions as an Arrancar but he knew that the Elders were anything but open minded. So Byakuya pushed the thoughts to the side and looked instead at the two vile men across from him and tried to focus on the fact that they were eventually going to help the other get home--rather than the fact he wished for nothing more than to grab the knife in front of him and stick it through their throats. He listened partially, answering when it was appropriate, for the rest of the meal. Once the bill had been taken care of, however, Mr. Winters turned to him.

"So, Mr. Sakamoto. If you require anything during your stay you will not hesitate to speak to Miss Measures."

Byakuya looked at him, disbelief pounding through him. He could not possibly mean what Byakuya thought he was implying. His brother seemed perfectly alright with the conversation and while her eyes were fixed on the coffee cup in front of her, it was clear that Halibel was anything but happy with the situation at hand. Shock made him pause as the raw anger that coursed through him made it impossible to speak. What these men were implying, it was degrading and certainly not acceptable, not for anyone but absolutely not for the woman sitting with them. Still Byakuya forced his movements to be cool as he stood up and looked at Halibel before he looked at the men.

"I will be sure to keep that in mind," Byakuya said, "for tonight, however, ask you to accompany me to my hotel."

"Very well," she said after a moment, getting to her feet with an unparalleled amount of grace, "Gentlemen," she nodded to the two men and walked out, carrying herself more like a noble than either of them could hope to.

Byakuya walked after her, smoothly accepting the two coats the attendant presented to them. The floor length white coat he knew was hers. He held it out. Cautiously she stepped forward, sliding her arms into the sleeves with practiced ease. Byakuya pulled the garment up onto her shoulders before he picked up his own coat and pulled the dark wool on. He looked up at her to see her looking at the wall, a grim sort of acceptance in her eyes. Byakuya realized she would do what he asked now. One part fiancée, one part prostitute it seemed. His stomach turned but he spoke calmly anyway.

"Forgive the inconvenience," he said. She looked at him quickly, with all the surprise of a deer in the headlights, "I fear I am new to this city. Our meal was heavier than I am used to but I do not know this place well enough to walk alone."

"It is no inconvenience at all," she said, her features smoothing into that untouchable mask he had seen before, "this way."

He followed her out into the cool night. Snow was falling around them already, dusting the streets and making the lamps flicker. Heedless of it, she walked forward. He matched her pace easily as they made their way down the deserted street. To her credit, she made it two blocks before she turned on him, stopping dead in the street.

"Who are you?"

Byakuya's eyes widened. It was one thing to be asked subtly for information, with questions he could easily give the answers to--answer that he knew. Like where Mr. Sakamoto was born. But to be asked flat out who he was, that clearly meant she had caught on. Byakuya quickly dismissed the notion that the other two men had figured it out, if they had he knew he would not have left the restaurant. But she had. On some level he felt pleased that she had, pleased that she had figure it out because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Halibel would have figured it out as well. Inside the pocket of his coat his hand tightened. Halibel would have figured it out and he would have gladly answered the question. But this was not Halibel and he could not tell her, not without consequences he was not willing to face.

"I am here to help," he said.

"Help who?" she asked

"You," he said.

"But you cannot tell me anything else," she sighed, glancing down the street in what had become an all too familiar habit.

"No more than I am sure you have figured out already," he said. She looked at him, obviously surprised that he would call her out on what she had assumed.

"That is a shame," she said after a moment, "I'm usually quite bad with assuming things about people," she spoke, biting her lip after a moment in a familiar gesture of embarrassment.

"That, Miss Measures, I do not believe," he said.

She smiled at that, seemingly not bothered by the fact he did not return the gesture. Slowly they began to walk towards his hotel. It was not far from the restaurant in which they had dined. She stopped when they were under the awning, the doorman waiting just inside to give them a moment of privacy.

"It is unfortunate you can't tell me more," she said looking up at him, "you are quite an intriguing man," she continued, "whoever you are," Byakuya found it impossible to reply, "Good night, Mr. Sakamoto," she said with a smile over her shoulder before she turned and walked down the street.

Byakuya watched her walk away, lingering in the quiet of the night. Slowly her white coat faded into the darkness of the night until she turned a corner and was gone all together. Yet he stayed there, watching her leave until she had disappeared. Turning around, he walked for the door. The doorman quickly pulled it open for him.

"Welcome back sir," he said, "You had a good evening, I trust?"

"Yes," Byakuya replied, not even having to think about it, "I did."

Noel's fingernails drummed on the wood of the table.

From his position across the table, Renji glanced up at the woman sitting nearby. Her body was turned in profile, one hand drumming on the table and the other laying in her lap. Renji looked down at the papers but his eyes moved back up to her. It was impossible not to look at her. Today she was in a pair of wide black pants that made her legs look impossibly long and a shirt that was deceptively modest. Modest until you looked at it the right way and caught a glimpse of the lace she wore underneath. Her blond hair was loose and flowing, only adding to the illusion she projected. Her eyes could have been the give away. They were sharp and no-nonsense but at the moment they were unfocused and far away. No, the give away for today was her lips. Innocent women did not wear the lipstick she wore and, if they did, it was not with the confidence she did.

"You wanna look at these?" Renji asked.

The fingers stopped drumming, nails poised on the wood like a tiger pausing to strike. Instantly her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at him, a lock of her hair falling across her features. Renji felt something deep inside of him twist at the look she gave him, a look that told him he was worth nothing more than the ground under her feet.

It was supremely unfair.

Oh Byakuya could bitch about Halibel and the ungodly mess she was in. Orihime could whine and worry about Ulquiorra and his current side job. Soifon could beat the tar out of her entire Division as she went for anger instead of worry at when it came to the man she still wouldn't admit she loved. But Renji couldn't care less. Well, somewhere deep inside he was concerned for them but really they had nothing to complain about. Somewhere deep inside their significant others were good people. Good people who bared a resemblance to the ones they had loved. But the woman sitting across from him was anything but Nel. Aside from the physical resemblance he couldn't see Nel in the woman sitting there, looking at him like he was dirt. Even the worst of the Shinigami--even Wonderwice, hadn't gotten a look like that.

Renji had always known that Nel had changed he most over the course of her time as an Espada. Ulquiorra had informed him of how Nel had been, of the proud Espada who, though warm to her Fraccion, had always held herself with a cool air when it came to the other Espada. She had had no patience for their squabbles and even her fights with Nnoitra had brought her no joy. Ulquiorra had said that of all the Espada she was, by far, the most dignified. It was a far cry from the Nel that Renji had come to know, the woman who needed absolutely no excuse to throw herself at any one or thing. Fights with the Eleventh Division, games of Endless Tag that usually wound up involving most of Soul Society--while he wouldn't go so far as to call her undignified, he certainly wouldn't have described her as cool.

But this woman sitting across from him, she was an ice queen.

Everything from her white-blond hair to her hard eyes, everything lent itself to that. It was effortless and elegant and Reni wanted nothing more than to destroy every fragment of it. Whoever this bitch was, she wasn't Nel but he was just supposed to deal with it. Renji wasn't a stranger to watching people change. He had undergone his own share of changes as time went on himself. But this was, this was almost too much for the red haired man to bear.

"Fine," Noel said shortly standing up.

The change would have been much easier, he thought, if the woman sitting across from him was not quite so attractive.

Her beauty was undeniable but it was more than that. It was as if every perfect hair, every manicured nail, as if it all called out for him to destroy it. It was an illusion, they both knew it, but it was as though she had gone through great lengths to ensure that he was painfully ware of what lay just underneath. The lace under the sweater, the skin under the hot pink lipstick--the promise of what the illusion was masking was almost too tempting. She walked over to where he stood, her shoes clicking against the ground and leaned over the designs. After a moment she straitened up.

"What are we going to do as a distraction?" she asked.

"So these will work?" Renji asked.

Noel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as Renji felt both surprised and satisfied at the work. It hadn't been that hard really, he had spent most of his childhood stealing. It was the same principal, all that changed was that he had far more tools at his disposal. He looked up at the woman and got to his feet, raising himself to his considerable height as he leaned against the table next to her, enjoying the slight displeasure in her eyes at even such a minor show of dominance.

"Yes," Noel said, "but we are going to need something that gives us an alibi, something that people won't be suspicious of," she sighed, "I suppose we will have to have a party."

"A party," Renji repeated.

"Yes," she snapped, "a party. We can throw it as a celebration of my Uncle and that woman he's marrying," she spoke flippantly but Renji could hear the underlying bitterness in her tone.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of his," he said.

"Its not important," she said dismissively.

"Not liking your Uncle?" Renji said, "That's pretty important--"

"And I suppose you have nieces?" she demanded.

"Yeah," he said, "well, not by blood," he scratched the back of his neck, "but I'm Uncle Renji a couple of them."

"How nice for you," Noel said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She was liking this red haired idiot less and less. Immediately she had seen from his gruff demeanor that whatever manners he possessed had been beaten into him at a much later stage in life. Late enough that everything in polite society seemed to cause him a supreme amount of discomfort. If she didn't have so much to worry about, Noel would have found it almost amusing how out of place he looked sitting in the living room of her house. Or now, even in an office that was anything but outlandish, he still looked as though he'd be happiest out in the slums of the city. It was disgusting and she was still half surprised to find he did not stink of the outside world.

Still, there was something about him that made it impossible for her to dismiss him with the ease she would have liked.

She couldn't say what it was. Maybe it was his tattoos or his violently colored hair--or maybe it was that grin that seemed to come so often and so genuinely to his lips. Whatever it was, though, she found it impossible to just dismiss him as another man she was force to work with. He also seemed not to stare at her like people were inclined to do. If anything, he avoided looking at her and when he did, it was at her face and not at the body that had made men do such terrible things. But, if Noel was really to sit and think, she would say that what was the most infuriating thing of all was the comfort she felt when she was next to him. It was indescribable and more than a little annoying considering his appearance and openness, but she couldn't deny that when she was with him she felt slightly more at ease.

Not enough to forget that her Uncle wanted her dead and her father was more than likely to give him the Syndicate based on his gender more than his accomplishments. But enough so that she didn't find herself looking at the door as often as she should have or staying as close to one of the concealed weapons scattered throughout the room. It was unnerving to say the least and yet, somehow, when she was standing closer to him, she realized that the fear she pushed as far back as she could was almost gone. As if by being in his presence alone, everything in the world would somehow, impossibly, be alright.

"What? You're not Auntie Nel?" he asked with that infuriating grin of his.

"No," she said shortly, "children are not a part of this world."

"So you were born this old?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"I was not born old!" she shot back.

Renji laughed as Noel felt her cheeks flame. He was teasing her and she had risen to the bait. Clapping a hand against her cheek she turned away, furious that she had been so easily caught.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding" Renji assured her pushing away from the desk. Noel glanced over her shoulder at him, "seriously though, we need to throw a party."

"No," she said flicking her blond hair behind her in an absentminded gesture, "I need to plan a party," her eyes swept over him, "you look as though you would hardly know what do at a party," she arched an eyebrow, "except, perhaps, hide on the balcony?"

"How did you--"

"Call it an educated guess," she said with a smirk.

"Well at your age I'm guessing you've attended a ton of those things," he said.

"Which is why I will make sure it is crowded enough that people will simply assume we are there," she walked back over to the plans.

"Don't they actually need to see us there?" he asked.

"No," she said, "they only need to believe they saw us there. If they believe it they will have no problem telling whatever baboon the police sends that they saw us."

"Baboon?" Renji snorted, thinking of what Grimmjow would say if he could hear that, "aren't you dating one of them?"

Noel straitened up and looked at him skeptically, arching one of her eyebrows as she tried to decipher what he was saying. If she didn't know better, she would say that she saw jealousy in his eyes. Noel narrowed her eyes as she realized that yes, in fact, there was definite jealousy in his eyes. A smile pulled at her lips in amusement. He might have sounded like he was cool and in control but she could see the definite jealousy in his eyes. Well, if he wanted to play tough, she could play tough just as well.

"Dating him?" Noel smiled faintly, reaching up and pushing a lock of her hair back deliberately, "if you want to call it that," she walked forward, her hips moving with the movement as she slid her fingers across the polished wood, "but its mostly just a physical thing."

Despite his words that she was not Nel, that he wanted to break everything she was, Renji couldn't help the heat that coursed through him. In the span of a second she had turned suddenly from some cold ice bitch to, well, to someone infinitely warmer. He swallowed thickly as he watched her nails drag across the wood, over the papers until they came dangerously close to his hand. Renji snatched it back, taking a step back. Big mistake. She was like a predator. One sniff of blood and suddenly she was on the trail, in pursuit. And Renji, being no fool, knew exactly what her prey was.

"Do you shoot all your lovers?" he blurted out in hopes of deterring her.

"Only the lying baboons," she replied, not missing a beat as he ran out of desk.

If she was surprised he knew, she didn't let it show. She just sauntered towards him and Renji suddenly felt as though there was no air in the room. It wasn't just that this was another woman--that she was not Nel, nor was it the fact she was sleeping with Grimmjow. No, the issue at hand was that the woman in front of him was, unfortunately, attractive and dangerous in her own right and if she caught him, well, Renji wasn't sure what was going to happen but he knew it was going to be anything but good. Unfortunately he was running out of room to put between himself and her and he knew that running clear out of the room wasn't anything he should be doing. Not without risking blowing their entire cover. He was in way over his head and the bitch of it was that he wasn't entirely sure he minded. Abruptly he found himself inches from the wall, Noel stopping only when the toes of her shoes were level with his own.

"I don't think we should--" he began.

"Renji," she cut in. He looked at her, "shut up."

Then she grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, yanked him towards her and crushed his lips to hers.

Renji's eyes widened in shock at what was happening and for a second everything in him screamed that this woman was not Nel. She wasn't. For one thing the way she kissed him--but all the reasons he had, all the good, justifiable reasons, they all seemed to fade away when her tongue slipped into his mouth. Then everything in Renji's head that shouted not to do this was turned off, with infuriating speed. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her close to his chest until their bodies were pressed tightly together. The hand grabbing his t-shirt relaxed, her palm flattening against his shirt as he crushed her to him. Noel realized, with her last bit of conscious thought, that she had been right about being in his arms.

Renji's back hit the wall but he didn't care as his fingers dug into the fabric of her top. Her other hand, the one pinned by his arms, worked itself free and wrapped around his shoulders with almost naked desperation. Renji's arms circle her tighter, to the point where she felt as though breathing deeply would be impossible--not that she needed to do so. Their height difference eased further as she pulled him closer, his neck craning to follow her command. Renji knew it was wrong, somewhere, distantly in the back of his mind. But he would be damned if the woman in his arms didn't kiss like Nel. Didn't smell and feel and touch him like she had. The arm around his shoulders reached up and grabbed his ponytail just as her counterpart once had.

Unfortunately as Renji felt his hair twined around her fingers, the lights that had been so easily shut off clicked back on. It was only his bigger size that let him grab her shoulders and push her back from him. She recovered instantly, stepping out of his grip, one hand pressing to her lips as she stared at him with unnervingly calm eyes. For a moment neither of them moved, neither of them spoke, as though the entire world was holding its breath. And then she lowered her hands, her fingers falling loosely to her sides as she looked at him.

"I--" Renji stared at her, figuring out what she was playing at and somehow finding himself unable to stomach the idea of more games, "I'll see you later," he said instead, doing what he should have done in the first place and walking out of the room.

In the silence, Noel backed up until her backside collided with the desk. Leaning against it she gripped the edge of the wood as tightly as she could, closing her eyes and letting her head fall forward. Everything in her told her she had done the right thing, she had let him know that any power he thought he had, it was a lie. She could control him, could and would. In the span of a heartbeat she would break his. Straitening up, she ran a steady hand through her hair and walked around the desk to the telephone. Picking it up she placed the receiver to her ear and punched in the numbers for an event planner she had used before. Holding the receiver to her ear, she waited for the number to connect as she looked over the papers.

Brow furrowing she lowered the receiver from her ear, placing the phone back in the cradle as she grabbed the paper. Above the plans written on it, just in the corner was a doodle of a phoenix. Despite being poorly drawn, the creature was placed a very certain way--a very familiar way. Noel lowered the paper down, her eyes locked on the picture as her mind tried to figure out how the hell this man could possibly know what it was. Picking up the phone again, she quickly dialed another set of numbers as she waited for it to connect.

"World Industries," a secretarial voice said, "how may I direct your call?"

"Yes," Noel said, "I'm calling to speak to Mr. Abarai."

"Mr. Abarai? Let me just check--" the secretary said. Noel waited, "I'm sorry, I have no record of a Mr. Abarai working here. I can connect you to human resources if you would like--"

"No," Noel said, "that's alright. However, could you connect me to Mr. Sakamoto's phone? My name is Noel Winters and I know he is expecting my call."

"Of course Miss Winters," the secretary said, "I'll connect you right away. Have a nice day," she said before her voice faded out.

She heard a car pull into the driveway. Picking up the phone she walked to the window as it began to ring. Peering out into the driveway, she watched as a black car pulled up. Renji walked forward immediately just as Mr. Sakamoto slid out of the back of the car. Noel watched, listening to the ring in her ear. Her heart pounded as she watched him speak to Renji for a moment, their voices reduced to little more than a low murmur. She leaned closer to the window, listening to the breeze, their low voices, the purr of the car being turned off--listening to everything.

Everything, that is, except for the ringing of Mr. Sakamoto's phone.

"I'm so sorry," the secretary came back on the phone, "he doesn't seem to be picking up. Would you like me to take a message?"

"No," Noel said after a moment, "I'll see him soon enough."

"Alright Miss Winters. Have a nice da--"

Noel ended the call, watching as Isabelle joined the two men standing there. Noel's fingers tightened on the phone in her had as she watched the brief exchange, knowing that whatever they were saying was full of lies. Feeling sick with disgust she turned around and all but slammed the phone back into its cradle. Marching to the door she reached out and yanked it open, walking out of the office and down the carpeted hall with every intent of informing her father what was happening. But her feet slowed halfway there before they stopped all together. If Isabelle was in on whatever was going on, then there was a good chance her Uncle was as well.

And if he was not, well, if she played her cards right no-one would be any wiser.

A slow smile came to her lips as Noel turned and walked carefully back into the office, closing the door softly behind her. Taking a deep breath she leaned against the wood, tilting her head back until her skull connected softly with the panels. Opening her eyes she looked at the ceiling, her smile widening. This was truly the most perfect thing she could have asked to happen. Pushing herself off the wood, she walked back to the desk and picked up the phone, dialing the planner's number. It connected far more quickly than the office she had just tried to get in touch with.

"Hello," she said, needing to give nothing, her number already known to them, "I need to plan a party."

"Of course Miss Winters," the event planner cooed, "whatever we can do to assist. Do you have a date?"

"Yes," she said, "in a week," she did not care about the outlandish demand.

"A week?" the planner repeated, voice less thrilled, "well, Miss Winters, you understand--"

"That this party will be nothing short of spectacular," she said firmly, "and I trust you will make it happen," she sat down and placed her feet on the wood of the desk, leaning back in the chair, "I want this party to be incredible."

"Of course," the planner said, "I understand--"

"No," Noel said, "I want it to be to die for."

A few details later and Noel hung up, leaving the work to the woman. Leaning back further in the chair, she laced her fingers behind her head. This party would be to die for, quite literally. Reaching over to the plans laying on the desk she picked up the sheet, her eyes tracing the doodle in the corner. The design, the image, she had been seeing it for as long as she could remember. In dreams, in that odd space between asleep and awake. Usually it was red and made of flames as it flew from some impossibly dark place. It did not illuminate or comfort, no, the phoenix she saw rose and, in its rising, burned. The creature burned and the world around it burned with it. A phoenix that rose from the ashes of whatever had existed before. That, Noel thought, was what she was going to be. From whatever was left of her Uncle's plans when she was done, whatever was left of 'Mr. Sakamoto's' empire, whatever was left of all of it, she was going to rise from it.

The only difference was that she was not going to be the one to burn.

They were.

And the plot thickens! I said this story was going to get a bit darker and twistier and I feel like now is really where we go off. I wanted to explore the character's weaknesses including Renji's. Next time Orihime's going to take matters into her own hands and we're going to move even closer to the party.

Oh and more people are going to die....and one of the Arrancar might not be coming back.

Please please review! I get that not EVERYONE will review, but please people, almost to two hundred of you have this on alert and fave. I'm honored, really, but I love it when you guys review and you TELL me why you like it. The more you review, the faster I update.

So please review!