Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual.

Author's Note: Thanks goes out to naturally morbid, Akira Nishikawa, and CeroMizuyama who offered massive amounts of support for my crazy-ass ideas as well as put up with my incessant nagging and whining. They are practically saints, people. lol. Enjoy!!!

Trial and Error

Chapter One

Uryuu POV

Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Ishida Uryuu. I recently graduated from one of the most prestigious law schools in the country with my Juris Doctorate law degree and have already been accepted into the nation's top law firm called Yamamoto, Hitsugaya, and Tousen Inc. To be a part of their elite team, you need to be the best, and that's exactly what I was.

While at school, my studies all centered on a particular niche or differentiation among all classifications of law; which is what I ended up being hired onto the firm for – the people at Yamamoto, Hitsugaya, and Tousen having obviously noticed this blatant focus of mine.

So what was my specialization?

Murder trials.

…and that was exactly when my problem started.

I had only been working for the law firm for about six months, but I had already assisted on multiple first degree murder cases – my expansive knowledge Common Law clauses and national legislation getting me through the details of the cases with ease, while I gained a taste for my new company's policies and procedures through first-hand experience.

My team did well, as we won all of those cases I helped out with, so the day came when I was called into my superior's office with news.

"Yes sir? You wanted to see me?" I asked as I stood in front of a giant, solid oak desk that had multiple stacks of neatly filed papers and folders; even his pens in his company pen cup were arranged perfectly and it was intimidating.

I remained rigid; loyally disciplined, however; as I awaited my short, white-haired boss' words as he sifted through a few papers in his hands until he found the right one – my mind constantly sending me little reminders that I practically needed to be a soldier as I was made ready for anything, could deal with anything.

I deserved to be there, and I needed to act the part no matter what.

Shining emerald eyes suddenly found my dark navy blue ones as I quickly pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose so I could see him better; aside from Hitsugaya Toushiro being a bit short, the immense sunshine from the wide, wall-encompassing windows at his back was practically blinding me for a moment.

Hitsugaya's office was expectedly well-kept, with beige-colored walls and framed, traditional black and white kanji inscriptions along them; tasteful planters marking two of the four corners; and a few, ceiling-tall bookcases filled with countless, colorful books and of all shapes and sizes.

"Yes, Ishida," Hitsugaya began; using my last name as I had been rather informally instructed to follow suit by another fellow employee regarding the company's impersonal tactics towards its workers; "I am sure you are wondering why I called you in here so suddenly."

I did nothing; reacted with nothing as a loyal worker should do, as I have always done whether it was to previous employers, professors, or my parents – they all get the same stoic, uncaring façade as I stayed as silent as a tombstone so he would get to the point.

That same paper that had taken the white-haired genius co-owner a minute to single out was held up in a small hand as Hitsugaya continued, "The others and I have been talking about your record here so far. We think you would be perfect to handle this latest case on your own."

Though I felt my eyes only widen a bit for just a moment upon hearing the news, inside I was completely shocked; fear and excitement riddling through me almost violently at the same time. They wanted me to handle a case all on my own?! I knew right away that this would either make me or break me in light of my position here in the firm, so; as sternly as I could manage, I squared my shoulders a bit before taking a giant step forward and politely seizing the document from my boss.

I could feel bright green eyes studying me carefully as I read over the official document containing the client's name, background information, and charges; no doubt noting and taking in my finely pressed off-white cuffed shirt, patterned black tie, and jet black suit that I had had tailored to fit me perfectly a few weeks ago.

It is this unwritten rule in a law firm for one man to try to assess the value of another man's attire as unnoticed as possible in order to figure out who could potentially 'best' in appearances.

We're lawyers and we're rude; what can I say.

I smirked behind the paper that I was reading word-for-word, as I considered how Hitsugaya had nothing to sneer at – it was an expensive suit that I was wearing after all and I knew it looked great on me.

The case, as I soon discovered was a premeditated, first degree murder case with aggravated circumstances… by a brother to his sister.

I finally lowered the document from my vision; now knowing the details of the case and already thinking of what these facts imply for my client; such as a potential sentence of 15 - 25 years; and saw Hitsugaya standing up from his large, black chair with a hand extended and a professional-looking smile on his tanned, small face.

"We know you'll make us proud, Ishida," he commented genuinely as he shook my hand; my head trying to will itself out of its awestruck daze and concentrate on being as confident as possible, "you are scheduled to meet with the client immediately to begin developing your case. Is that clear?"

There was no ill-intent in his words, but I still cringed inside from hearing that I had to leave right away; not even given the chance to splash cold water in my face like I wanted to before doing anything else.

"Crystal, sir," I replied faithfully; my somewhat racing mind already visualizing that my briefcase was on the left side of my desk on the floor and the appropriate papers I would need are in the red-tabbed folder on top of my desk on the right; next to my telephone and little, potted cactus.

I left Hitsugaya's office already feeling a little out of breath as I practically raced back to my cubicle to begin sorting and collecting everything that I would need or be relevant to the case- the paper that my boss gave me as good as gold to me at the moment as it also contained the client's current address– the Kashiwa Prison in Chiba, Japan.

Fate, or something crueler, was on my side as I was able to maneuver quite effortlessly around the heavily-populated area; the subway I took to get to Kashiwa luckily not having any delays during my short trip which made me arrive on street level in approximately 35 minutes.

The prison was not hard to spot; even despite the swarms of shuffling, trudging people coming and going along the sidewalks and streets; as it was one of the tallest buildings in this area, and before I knew it, my feet were already taking me over to its direction – my body probably acting of its own accord seeing as how it was a bit chilly and I do rather hate being in large crowds.

Six, people-swarmed blocks later, I was standing inside the grey marble-floored lobby of the white-stoned district jail; my hands already working to straighten out my wind-blown suit and hair before I should need to see and speak to someone.

Luckily, I had just finished fixing my blue-black hair before I heard someone come up to me; their leather shoes clunking noisily against the marble, followed by a gruffly bellowed out, "Can I help you?"

I barely spared the questioning guard a proper glance as I reached into one of my suit jacket's inner pockets; retrieving a small note I had written to myself while on the train; and merely said, "I'm here to see…Kuchiki Byakuya. I'm his lawyer."

I took more time than needed to put the note back into the same pocket as I heard the guard reply, "Ahh, I see. So the lunatic's finally got himself a lawyer, huh? Good luck, kid!"

This made me look up and stare hard at the guard's rounded, laughing face.

A lunatic?

With no more words passing between us; for which I was grateful; my rotund guide led me to the cell block areas, down a specific, grey-stoned corridor where the interrogation rooms were, and finally stopped at one of them.

6A is what the white, spray-painted insignia on the grey metal door read, and I looked at it furiously as it was finally hitting me that I would be conducting my own solo interview of a client in a short moment. Issues and questions were already starting to form in my completely business-strategizing and focused mind as I flexed my fingers that were gripping my briefcase handle a little too tightly.

No more supervisors or overseers were to be with me any more; this case was all mine. If I nailed this, I knew my name would not be ill-thought of when the time came for decisions to be made regarding whom to make partner at Yamamoto, Hitsuguya, and Tousen Inc.

I needed this.

Snapping me from my pre-determined triumphant thoughts, the annoying, large guard suddenly grumbled out, "You got thirty minutes, and don't worry…we got him chained up pretty good. Just uh…don't give him a pen or anything, alright?"

My eyebrows knitted together as I pondered his stirring statement while he opened up the heavy door for me with a bit of a squeak coming from the bending metal; my body already going inside though my mind was totally elsewhere…such as if I was walking into something dangerous and did not even know it yet.

How right my subconscious was, indeed.

"Well, well…so you are who they sent to be my lawyer? How very…interesting…" purred a smooth, controlled voice from the other end of the room.

The small stone room was incredibly illuminated from the many thick, fluorescent bars above; making my eyes require a moment to adjust properly before I could see.

Once the strands of trick color receded from my eyesight though, my eyes fell upon the most gorgeous and breath-taking creature I had ever seen.

Diamond cut features of smooth porcelain skin were framed by medium-length obsidian-colored hair that fell into his equally dark and luring eyes…eyes that just overflowed with the message that any mystery about him was one worth knowing.

Long, lovely eyelashes batted at me as a small smirk curved those luscious, pouting lips of his – the man obviously catching onto my blatant stun and situation of gawking at him.

Before he could speak any more words; though I did wish to hear that melodic baritone of his again; I willed myself out of my slight shock and hurriedly took the seat closest to me at one end of the simple, metal table that decorated the middle of the small room.

My eyes and hands were quick to busy themselves with meticulously propping my briefcase up on the table, un-clicking the small latches on it, and then shuffling through some of my loose papers mindlessly…anything so I did not have to look at this man's beautiful face and lose my cool any more.

Though I was careful to not look at him, I clearly heard him chuckle lightly under his breath and then take a few small steps until he could sit in his chair across from me – the long, shiny chain in between his ankle-cuffs rattling noisily against the hard floor as he did so.

I cleared my throat nervously as I observed through merely my blurry peripheral vision that he was wearing the standard orange prison jumpsuit with a plain white T-shirt underneath; bold black numbers ran across his left breast pocket indicating his booking code; and that his hands were also shackled together in front of him - the contortion of his arms making him almost look humble.

Almost…if not for that knowing, daring glint in his eyes.

"So, Mr. Kuchiki, I have here a copy of your charges as well as the possible sentencing you might be facing. How do you want to plead?" I asked in my most determined, no-nonsense voice I could muster; though my eyes were still refraining; desperately at this point; to not meet his under any circumstance.

"What's your name?" Kuchiki answered my question with another question…a much more personal one; his timbered words music in my ears as they were evidently said while he was still smirking at me.

This earned him another shocked look from me as I whipped my head up to meet his awaiting gaze with my questioning look – cool and calm was his magnificent, regal demeanor; simply striking in its own right and I was immediately overcome with the thought that orange really was not his color.

Black would have been better on him...much better.

"Uh…right," I agreed; mentally checking myself upon processing that maybe I should have introduced myself first before jumping right into points and procedures, "I'm Ishida Uryuu from Yamamoto, Hitsugaya, and Tousen Inc. I'll be representing you in this case."

I watched as his smirk grew subtly into a pleasant, addicting smile as he leaned forward and raised both of his handcuffed hands to his breast pocket; a tiny, white and grey cigarette pack immediately being brought into view as he used one, skilled hand to push the top of the pack away and then lift the whole thing to his mouth.

My eyes just could not look away as I watched a slender cigarette be left in between those supple lips once the small, fragile pack was pulled away; my client's iron-hued eyes never leaving mine as well, I sort of noticed.

I cleared my throat nervously; dropping our increasingly intense gaze at once and only heard the noise of a match being struck to light his cigarette – only a quick glance up from my papers and documents from hearing said noise allowed me to catch him tucking the tiny matchbook back into the same pocket as well; the cigarette now lit and letting long, winding streams of smoke gracefully curve into the air above.

"So...we need to come up with some solid groundwork for our case…"I mentioned with a bit of effort since my eyes were positively struggling not to look up from my documents on the table to see the probably drop-dead sexy view of Byakuya Kuchiki smoking right in front of me.

"How long have you been doing this; litigating?" my client asked from behind his cigarette as nonchalant as if he was asking me the time.

Again, my wide, blue eyes had to meet his waiting grey ones again as his out-of-the-blue question threw me off; making me more and more nervous as he appeared to just be getting calmer and calmer.

"Um…a few years," I answered truthfully; already feeling a bit ashamed as soon as the words left my mouth as my predetermined analysis of Kuchiki smoking before me was one per cent correct and I was suddenly overcome with a whole new brand of inner shock and turmoil.

Byakuya had to lift both of his shackled hands to his face to take another drag off the little, burning cigarette trapped in between two, slender fingers – his eyes never wavering from my internally panicked face as he seemed to be assessing everything about me just from what he was doing.

"Hn," he commented coolly as I; practically enthralled by every gesture and thing this impossibly beautiful man did; watched him leisurely blow out the inhaled smoke as his eyes slowly slid shut – the very scene making my lips part and eyes widen a bit as the picture vividly invaded my traitorous mind that that was probably his expression as he reached climax during a round of mind-shattering sex that would no doubt ensue with him as the partner.

It was unnerving; it was maddening; the way puffy lines of silver escaped through his perfect, loosely-puckered lips; inviting lips that seemed to be taunting me more than smoking that damned cigarette; so I began to ramble off some legal terminology at him regarding his case and current charges.

I forced myself to turn some papers around so he could look at them as well; not that he did for any notable amount of time as his eyes seemed to prefer my face than anything else; as I went on and on about how he is being charged with first degree murder with an aggravated circumstance due to the victim having been his sister, possible sentencing can reach 25 years, etc.

His face was that of sultry indifference to all of my words about his situation and potential future, but every time his large, strong hands came up to his face; hiding the lower half of it each time to suck on his cigarette; I had to swallow hard as images shamelessly started to manifest within me of having those same milky white hands on me, doing things I would only have him do and no one else.

I visibly shook my head from side to side and blurted out, "Do you have an alibi or some other condition that I'm not aware of?"

The finished cigarette was smashed out on the cool metal table top as he blew out the last of the smoke in his lungs; his eyes watching his own hands' movements with almost a tinge of longing behind them before he answered me.

"Rukia was only my sister-in-law; we were not related by blood," he informed me; the sheer intensity of his voice threatening my spine and for a solid moment, I was actually a little scared of this man…this elegant man who had killed someone else with his bare hands and apparently thought nothing of it.

A few jots on my yellow pad of paper and I quietly pushed, "…and…no alibi?"

I wanted him to have one; I wanted him to have an alibi that would clear his name so badly that would ultimately mean that he was just blatantly innocent and that this all was a big misunderstanding…and that he could go free.

…with me.

"No," Byakuya replied with a bit more ice in his dark voice as he shifted his weight a little in his chair; reclining back a little as he did so and gracefully bringing his bound hands to his lap from the table.

I swallowed hard again.

My silent, half-comprised wish was not granted after all.

He really was guilty.

Confused and extremely overloaded with my own thought processes and half-made rationales, I quickly shoved all the brought-out paper back into my brown briefcase; latching the tiny clasps immediately; before I stood up hastily – the uncomfortable metal chair squeaking highly from such a brash move against the hard tiled floor.

"Alright, well, I thank you for your time – I have enough information to begin making our case, and I shall get back to you with details…uh…some other time. Goodbye!" rambled out of my mouth in the most unprofessional fashion known to mankind as I practically dashed out of the room; not being able to stand looking at the still sitting form of Byakuya any longer for some reason.

Once the metal door closed behind me, I let out a sigh of relief, though I could still see his cool, demanding eyes in my mind; assessing me quietly just like a poker player glares without glaring at his opponent…just to make him feel shifty and rush a mistake.

I needed a drink…but first…

My eyes swept from left to right countless times; though it was incredibly unnecessary as there was no possible way no one was going to know what I was about to do anyway; as I made my way down the corridor and made a left to where I was pretty sure I had spotted a bathroom on the way in.

I was right, and before too long, I quickly slipped inside the large, well-lit bathroom that was practically all cream-colored but with a mismatched black and white tiled floor, and hastily darted into one of the cramped, thankfully clean stalls.

Suddenly, I heard a toilet flush from two stalls down from me as I was unbuttoning my pants and inching them down, and I childishly craned by body forward so I could see the other's feet; to place him; once I had sat down.

I could not see anything since he was too far away from me, but in another second I did hear one of the faucets run; signaling that the guy was now washing his hands and preparing to leave.

Good.

After a rather gruff and sickly sounding cough from the other man, I heard his footsteps cross the large bathroom before the heavy, wooden door was pried open and he walked out.

At once, sparing absolutely no time for reconsideration, I grabbed my semi-hardened cock at its base; the blessed pressure making my head tip back right away as I began to slowly slide my hand up and down my stiffening length.

Once I had coaxed enough pre-come to collect at the top of my cock, I smeared the smooth, naughty liquid around the enflamed head; making the process of stroking myself to completion easier.

My other hand shamelessly cupped my sac; adding to my risky, forbidden pleasure; as I pumped harder; fisted myself faster – nothing but pictures of Byakuya stirring and manipulating in my mind as I worked.

Byakuya naked, laying on top of me with his long, dark hair cascading all around his magnificent, flushed face as he only whispered my name amidst the darkness in my bedroom as he made indescribable love to me...my hands quick to clutch at his wide, glistening back before coming up to tangle in his hair to pull him closer – the two of us about at our immaculate limit as we clung to each other desperately, passionately.

I bit my lip harshly to keep myself from moaning as I gave a particular rough squeeze to my sac as I finally felt that glorious white-hot electricity course through my groin in the most mind-bending of ways as I came in my hand and some on the bathroom stall door in front of me – the white, creamy arcs of my orgasm all but painting a sort of contemporary art remnant on that door as I discreetly shuddered out the rest of my eaves of pleasure.

Silently steadying my breathing, I released my hand from my tingling balls to lay flat against one of the side walls as I gave a few more pulls to my softening member before removing that hand as well – massive amounts of toilet paper already being seized from the dispenser once my mind started to come back to me.

I dabbed and wiped at the warm come that decorated my right hand before leaning forward and using more of the rough, cheap paper to clean off the desecrated door – my conscious feeling undeniably rotten right about now, but my body was happily sated with a remarkable feeling of untouchable weightlessness.

After the task of cleaning up my mess was completed; just for show; I flushed the toilet and made my way out to wash my hands and straighten up – the need to compose myself was all but mandatory at this point as I gazed at myself in the large, studio-lit mirror and wondered briefly if what I had just done really meant anything else.

Maybe…but my mind was not even close to par at the moment with trying to level with something like that, so I just dismissed the heavy notion for the time being.

With solid, purposed steps, I trekked back the same way I had came into this place, passing by the same fat guard from before in the lobby, who only acknowledged me with a curt nod of his head; to which I provided back to him and nothing more; as I made my way out of the facility through the large glass doors.

I deeply breathed in the crisp, tainted city air; finally feeling like I could breathe again as opposed to how claustrophobic being in the prison seemed in contrast; as I tried to shove all other thoughts from my mind concerning everything that had just happened and solely focus on getting to my home.

I grit my teeth and pursed my lips as I told myself like some sort of mantra to not think about Byakuya; do not think about what I had just done in the jail's bathroom; just do not think…of…that man…right now.

I really did need that drink after all – my mind already registering where I kept all the appropriate liquors in my kitchen needed for it as my tongue craved the usually displeasing burn and bitterness associated with alcoholic drinks.

A good, strong cocktail sounded heavenly at this point.

With a little more confidence; be it falsified or not; I stepped further into the crowded, busy city and started heading back to the same train station – my large, white sofa and fluffy blue pillows at home seeming better and better with every step that drew me closer to it.

…and I really needed to lie down.

Another A/N: Whew, got the first chapter done. lol. Please review should you feel so inclined; I would love to hear what you have to say about what I have so far. XD Thanks, everyone!