DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BLEACH. I JUST ENJOY PLAYING GOD IN THEIR UNIVERSE.

please forgive me for messing up kubo tite's characters!

...

Urahara sighed. He was sitting on the edge of the large bed, with nothing more than the sheets covering the lower half of his body. His ash blond hair was tousled, his back, neck and chest bearing scratches here and there. Behind him, Anya's naked form was covered by sweat soaked sheets, her face peaceful in sleep. He relaxed as he heard her soft breathing. He turned and reached for her, caressing her face tenderly. Anya leaned into his touch, and slowly opened her eyes.

"Still awake?"

"Uhuh."

The woman smiled a sleepy smile and tugged at Urahara's arm. "Come back to sleep."

The blond man just obliged and lay next to the raven haired woman. He kissed her as her fingers traced his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her, as she laid her head on his chest, him savoring the sensation of that sinfully soft skin, the wonderful warmth of her body. She loved the way she hears his heart beat and knowing that it beats only for her. She closed her eyes and let sleep claim her once more.

He kissed her again and watched her sleep. Sleep unfortunately would not claim him, as thoughts vie for space in his head. The last two years with her was something out of a fairytale; she had brought him contentment. However, the war against Aizen had not been decided yet and he feared that it could drag on longer. Anya was a guilty pleasure which he was thankful for in these troubled times.

He remembered the first time he saw her.

The human girl was wearing a yellow sundress which showed her willowy curves. He loved the way the sun hit her light brown skin, he thought she glowed in the afternoon sunlight. He was wearing his god of a hat and for a change, a white button down shirt with jeans. He was sipping coffee in one of those downtown hang outs when he saw her pass by. That was when he realized he had not gotten laid in the past, what, seven, eight months? Damn Aizen and his Arrancar!

Immediately, he stood up, left money on the table and stalked the girl. The girl went into a bookstore. The said Shinigami followed.

The bookstore was, to say the least, huge. It had three stories, rows upon dizzying rows of books. There were lots of people too, mostly bored yuppies, thinking self help books could push them out of the slump of their existence. He scanned the area. He found his prey browsing books under the science fiction section. He purposely headed that way.

Urahara knew he was a handsome man. He also knew that he could charm his way through anything. He could probably have that girl swooning over him in ten minutes flat, maybe even less. And in about an hour or two, have his booty call satiated. How wrong he was.

"Sergei Lukyanenko? Pretty interesting choice."

The girl just turned her attention briefly to him, with a raised brow. Up close, Urahara noticed that her eyes were the darkest shade of brown. She was not what you would call beautiful though. But she was certainly a looker. Her lips were a pale shade of red, dark pink? And they were certainly soft, definitely good for making out. Her curly raven hair was pulled up in a loose bun, soft tendrils framing her face.

"Excuse me?"

"I said Sergei Lukyanenko's a good choice."

"Thank you."

"My name's Kisuke, by the way. I'm also a sucker for his work."

She just looked at him, still with brow raised, and walked toward the counter, clutching the book to her chest. He felt his throat dry as he watched her hips gently sway as she walked. "Damn fine ass too", he thought while unconsciously licking his lips. Things were not going as he planned. He was in heat damn it. He did not need this. Little did he know he would stay un-laid for another six months.

His reverie was broken by the tinkling of the doorbell. He knew his prey was headed out of the store. He nearly knocked an elderly woman down in the process. Clearly the powers that be were not in the mood to cooperate with him.

"I'm sorry", he said with a smile, doffing his hat, while running toward the exit.

The elderly woman just stood there in shock, not really knowing how to react.

Damn it. He lost her. He scanned for the familiar yellow dress in the crowded street; however, none greeted his gray eyes. Disappointed he trudged back to the Shoten; blood in his groin nearly at boiling point.

He did not see her again after more than week. For nearly every day after that afternoon, he went back to the bookstore, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl again. The powers that be decided to cooperate this time; he was rewarded with not just a glimpse but also a chance to talk to the girl again.

"I see you're back here again. I assume you're finished with last one already."

This time around the girl was wearing a below knee length red skirt and a black tank top, which flattered her. Her hair this time was tied up in a ponytail. However, she still looked at him with the same raised brow. But Urahara did not do well with rejection and was determined to take this girl to his bed.

"I see you still cannot leave me alone", she coldly said. Urahara just loved the way her lips ended up in an almost pout. She was making it more difficult for him not to ravish her then and there.

"I see nothing wrong in being friendly. I did not catch your name the last time, by the way."

"That's because I see no point in giving it."

It took Urahara seven more trips to the bookstore just to learn Anya's name. It took another three weeks for him to finally get her to go out with him. And it took her three months to finally warm up to him. But by then, Anya was no longer a much needed booty call for him, she had evolved into so much more.

The first time they made love was even more unforgettable. The first time he touched her skin, he nearly went insane. When he invaded her mouth, he reveled in the warmth and moistness, the softness of it. He loved the way their bodies melded, like they were two long lost pieces of a puzzle. He also loved the way Anya clutched his shoulders as he pumped her with need, the way she whispered his name as he released his seed in her.

During his near thousand years of existence, nobody could push his buttons the way she did. Sure, he loved the thrill of the chase when he was still wooing her. But when they were finally together, it actually made sense that someone was pushing his buttons the way he pushed others'. Somehow, this made him feel secure, somehow, with her, it felt so right. He tightened his embrace.

Urahara was a notoriously light sleeper. But when Anya was in his arms, his senses were dulled, feeling only the gentle warmth that was her.

He awoke to the sunlight peeking in between the curtains of their bedroom, taking in Anya's sweet smile.

"' Morning, sleepy head", Anya greeted her husband with a kiss to his chapped lips.

"Mmmm…nnngggg", the Shinigami mumbled. He so loved mornings like this, waking up to his wife's smile, his arms around her waist as she hovered over him, kissing him.

"Darling, you have some visitors waiting for you in the den."

The Shinigami only groaned. The situation with Aizen has not improved and Soul Society had been bugging him more than his worth. It seemed they like to rub in the fact that the war was his entire fault, for creating the Hougyoku and all.

"Kisuke you have to get up. Kuchiki Taichou and Abarai Fukutaichou have been waiting for you for the last 10 minutes. Good thing Yoruichi-san is keeping them company for you."

"Then why did you not say so? Is it because you like to hog me all by yourself?" Urahara's eyes gleamed mischievously.

Anya only smirked, though it did not quite reach her eyes. "You have no shame at all Kisuke Urahara. It's not proper to keep your guests waiting." And with that, she tugged at his arms until he was in a sitting position.

"But that's no way to treat your hot hunk of a husband, love. It's not my fault I slept late last night." He smiled at her as he pulled her to his lap and gave her a deep kiss.

Ten minutes later, the blond Shinigami was now on his way to the den, in his usual garb, Benihime in his hand. Before he opened the door, he took a deep breath and plastered his most annoying, most nonchalant smile on his face.

"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting gentlemen and Yoruichi. I was not able to sleep well last night." Urahara sat down and whipped out his fan for effect. To this the Shinigami captain's face remained stoic while his vice captain only smirked. It seemed that Abarai had spotted the telltale marks on the exiled shinigami's skin. And Yoruichi, well, Yoruichi kept her face devoid of any emotion as she sipped her tea.

"We have reason to believe that Aizen is planning another attack", the captain began.

Unlike Isshin Kurosaki before him, he never kept secrets from his wife. He had divulged everything to her. He was finally able to breathe after Anya accepted every single thing with grace and trust. For this, he was eternally grateful she was by his side.

"I love you", with these words, he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I love you too, Kisuke. I love you very much."

He never kept any secrets from her because he knew that from the moment he started wooing her, he inevitably dragged her into this mess he created. He knew that she would be involved, even if he tried to shield her from it. He knew and that was what he was most afraid of, that it would most likely hurt her in the end.

Later that night, Urahara was restless, anxious about the news he had received from the Shinigami captain. Aizen was planning another attack, the timeframe still unsure. He was looking out the window, staring at the moonless sky when he felt arms encircle his waist.

"Darling, is this how you treat your wife? She's alone and cold lying on a bed made for two", Anya whispered at his back.

He turned to face her, reciprocated her embrace. "I'm sorry, love. It seems the situation keeps on getting worse."

"Well, I believe I have something to cheer you up."

"Oh? Tell me then."

"I visited Isshin today for a checkup. You know for the past few weeks I've been feeling a little off. He ran some tests… I'm nine weeks on the way, Kisuke."

Urahara's heart leapt at the news. This was unexpected, yet it was definitely welcome. His hand wandered to his wife's belly, feeling the slight bump there. He then kneeled and kissed her belly, then pressed his face on it.

Chuckling, he said, "I actually thought you were just gaining weight."

Anya playfully hit him on the arm then smiled. As he stood up, she cupped his face. She then pressed her lips to his, lightly bit his lower lip. Urahara proceeded to carry her bridal style to their bed.

"You didn't have to do this silly. I can still walk", she said with a soft laugh.

He did not answer. He just nuzzled her neck as he carefully laid her on the bed. She was looking at him, a serene smile on her face, and one hand in his, the other on her belly. He strained himself to keep moments like these in his memory. Moments like these when he was just like any other man, thanking the gods for the love of his wife and for the promise of life in her.

It was barely a fortnight after when Aizen's forces attacked. But they were ready.

Everything was a flurry of black and white. The place reeked of powerful reiatsus, malicious intent and the stench of blood. All one heard was the clash of zanpakutous and the sounds of voices made hoarse by yells and screams.

But what time seemed to stand still for was the confrontation between two men.

When the first step was taken and the sound of metal grating against metal was heard, all one could see was the swirl of black, green, white, brown and blond. When they moved it was as if they were dancing, movements fast, graceful, deadly.

Like all dances, this one ended, but with only one man standing, triumphant.

As Aizen's blade hit his flesh, Urahara vaguely registered someone calling out his name. When he felt the other's blade invade his chest, his only thought was of Anya. He was thankful she was safe, away from all this chaos.

He barely felt someone catch him before his body touched the ground. It was Ichigo.

"Urahara-san! Please, please hold on."

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun", he was barely breathing and he was clutching Ichigo's uniform, "will you please do me a little favor? Will you please bring my body back to my wife? And please tell her I love her very, very much."

"Baka, you're going to be okay. Besides, you're wife will be really pissed at you." Even as he assured the fallen man, he knew that he was lying through his teeth.

"I know she will be sorely disappointed Kurosaki-kun, but I'm afraid… just please, tell her I will miss her. Tell her… tell…"

Ichigo felt a tear slide down his cheek.

He promised her that he would come back. But somehow she felt deep in her gut this could be the promise that he would not be able to keep.

When the doors of the Shoten opened, Anya was barely aware of her feet moving. She only felt the dread. When she saw her husband's bloody form, she felt as if someone ripped her still beating heart out of her body and stomped on it. She felt as if she was in hell.

Ichigo gently laid Urahara's body on the tatami mat. He could not bring himself to look Anya in the eye.

Anya placed Kisuke's head on her lap and gently wiped the dried blood at the corner of his mouth. He looked as if he was sleeping if it were not for the bloody mess on his chest. She did not feel the tears slide down her cheeks; she only felt the weight of her husband's lifeless body.

She did not feel Yoruichi's hand on her shoulder; she did not hear Ichigo's words. The only person who mattered to her was gone. All she could do was to hold him tightly, as if her own life would be swept away if she let go. It was all she could do to keep herself sane. It was all she could do.

"Mama, are we there yet?"

"We're almost there, Shin. Almost there." Anya smiled at the little boy holding her hand. It had been three years.

The boy had the same ash blond hair, and the same nonchalant smile his father possessed. Everybody thought he was Kisuke's miniature except he had his mother's eyes. It saddened her that this boy would not know his father's love.

"Mama, I could see Papa's shrine. Look!" the little boy pointed to a carved black stone shrine. Anya inwardly sighed. The knowledge that Kisuke was gone still stung her heart. She felt she could never really move on beyond that day.

Not long after that attack, another bloody battle reared its ugly head, in which Aizen was killed by Kuchiki Taichou. The war did not end with Aizen's death though. The Arrancar were strong, but without their leader, they seemed like lost sheep. Ichimaru Gin could not lead them, the Arrancar despised him. Neither could Kaname Tousen, he was too wrapped up in his own sense of justice. The war did not end but at least defeating the Arrancar would be more manageable without their leader.

They were there at last. Shin gently laid the flowers they brought at the shrine. The boy bowed his head and offered prayers for his late father. Anya was behind him, savoring the cool breeze that was gently caressing her skin. It was as if assuring her that Kisuke was looking after her and their son.

...

A/N: sergei lukyanenko is the author of the night watch series.