A/N: Unbeta'd, all mistakes are unfortunately mine. Beta'd version will be posted in the future.

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Practice Part VI

No matter how natural he tried to act, he could help but feel dreadfully out of place.

As Ishida squeezed against the wall to allow another couple to pass him, he could only imagine how Orihime had happened upon a place like this. The club was in one of lower sections of a warehouse as was evident from all the random machine parts that littered the place. Large, corroded iron tables and rickety looking stools littered one side of the large room while the other half was a fog of movement - full of damp bodies and quick heartbeats. The low ceiling was covered with cheap glow-in-the-dark stars; the same stars that littered the inside of lockers and little boy's rooms. The flooring looked as though it had never been cleaned. Old oil spills, tar spots, chemical burns and white paint speckled the floor. Along with blood, beer, spit and god knows what else, Ishida cringed.

The occupants of the space weren't so clean themselves. The humidity of the room had settled on everyone and covered them all in the same thick layer of sweat which they only added to by dancing and snogging and…well.

Ishida shuddered at the grungy feel of the place, taking care where he placed his hands and being even more cautious as to what he drank from. But he wasn't planning on drinking; he was watching.

The person who had brought him here was currently twirling carelessly in the middle of the club; her bright orange hair had turned a deep red by the lights overhead. Orihime's smile was strained somehow and she was looking at no one in particular; just dancing. He watched as several hands touched her, but she paid them no heed. Several men tried to gently seize her, but she would repeatedly push them away with a small smile. Eventually everyone had left her alone; even the hands stopped reaching for her.

After an hour in the club, she had not once looked at him.

This had been a bad idea, she realized once they had entered the club. Ishida had stood close beside her when they'd entered and she knew he was surveying the room. Couples were everywhere and she silently panicked when she realized what she and Ishida looked like: a couple.

Orihime left him standing at the entryway while she escaped to the dance floor.

She remained there for almost an hour before Ishida joined her. Or rather, she'd allowed him to join her. His eyes had been on her the entire time she was dancing, she was sure of it. The men and a few women she'd turned down would frown at her before looking at one of the walls of the club, glancing at the same thing, time and time again. She knew it was Ishida they were looking at; they all though she was his.

As she grew tired of her dancing she finally looked at him. His eyes were dark behind his glasses which reflected the lights and movement of the dance floor. He was dressed in fitted black slacks and a small navy shirt that opened wide across this chest. His small cross was suspended delicately from his thin wrist that hung by his side. He didn't come to her at first, but after that point she didn't let her eyes stray far from him.

Two women stopped to talk to him. Their small skirts were wrinkled and stained and their thin shirts seemed too big for their skinny frames. Ishida, she noticed, didn't take to them either. He nodded politely and pushed between them to walk toward her in the crowd of dancers.

She smiled as he joined her and bowed like an idiot, "May I have this dance, Miss?"

"You may," She giggled, smiling brightly at his playful banter.

Orihime closed her eyes and began rocking her hips back and forth with the music, hoisting her arms above her head, curling her fingers into her hair from time to time as the tempo rose and fell. She enjoyed dancing, enjoyed the carelessness of it, and she especially enjoyed watching others dance. She opened her eyes to look at Ishida. He had a deep blush on his face as he watch her and others around them dance. The poor boy didn't know how to dance. She would fix that!

Ishida flinched as she drew closer to him, catching him by the forearm to pull him against her, "Orihime, what are you doing!?"

"It's ok, Ishida," She encouraged him. "I don't mind."

She felt herself blush as she moved her hands to his hips and persuade him to move. He was unwilling initially, but that changed when she began to move with him; their bodies swaying and twisting together, though not yet touching.

He grew more confident with her and put a hand gently on her hip to ensure they remained close. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer; smiling as he grabbed her waist to lift and twirl her like he'd seen earlier.

This might have been a good idea, she reflected. Ichigo, Renji, school, and life in general had no place here in the club, no place between her and Ishida. This was fun, immature and made her feel young in a way she hadn't felt before in a long time.

The music died away and many of the couples fled the floor, leaving them extra room to dance, extra air to breath. The next song that was played was a deep, flowing melody, accented by exotic percussion. She didn't bothered to ask Ishida if he'd continue to dance with her, she simply wrapped herself around his strong, narrow frame and just moved.

His arm coiled around her in a comforting embrace and that was all she'd needed.

Orihime's face was nestled into his shoulder, her face turned into his neck breathing against it. He shivered and held her tighter to him as she fingered the back of his neck. He couldn't help but notice her hair and compare it to Ichigo's. He ran his hands through it and felt of it, realizing that her hair was slightly darker than Ichigo's. She returned the gesture and left her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp.

Ichigo…

He held her more tightly to him as he thought of the other man. He still wasn't sure of his own feeling toward the Shinigami. He supposed it could have been worse by all accounts, but it also could have been much better. Ichigo could have chosen him.

But he didn't and Ishida had to live with that.

Orihime twisted him in his arms and put her back to his chest and drew his arms around her waist, placing them purposely on her flat stomach. He could already feel her tight abdomen through her thin, silk top; feel how she quivered as they danced.

"Ishida."

He leaned forward and tucked his chin over her shoulder, "Yes?"

"What was it like?" She asked softly, her smooth voice tickling his ear. "What was it like to kiss him?"

Ishida stopped dancing for moment, too shocked by the question to continue to rock back and forth. Orihime turned once again in his slack arms and waited for him to say something.

"Orihime…I…" He was dumbstruck and blushing rather harshly. "I'm not sure how to answer that."

She turned and looked briefly at the other couples around them, her eyes flickering with a multitude of emotions, "I liked him, you know. Maybe I loved him. I don't think that's possible now."

Ishida silently agreed.

"I'm glad though. It's about time he found someone and if that person just happened to not be one of us, then…well…that's just too bad."

Tears had begun to form in her eyes, but she wasn't wiping them away. He raised a finger to her eyes and wiped them away before they could fall. Her eyes were wide as he pushed the tears away and smoothed them out across her cheeks.

"You're right. He's happy. We need to be happy too." He gave her a small smile and puller her close, winding a hand into her deep orange locks to cradle her head. She sniffled and then let out a small laugh as she held his back with one hand and tucked her other between their chests.

"He asked me to take you out, you know."

He didn't bother to pull away from her to speak, "What do you mean?"

"He told me to take you out, meet new people, perhaps someone you'd like." She divulged in a small voice. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Why would I be mad? I've already met someone I like," He whispered softly into her ear.

Her hand flexed against his heated back and she tugged at the opening of his shirt in a frantic sort of way, "Who is it?"

"I might tell you…one day…" He purred into the space below her ear, dragging his thin fingers up her side. He felt her shiver in his arm. "Would you like to leave now?"

"Yes!" She pulled away quickly and blushed at herself. "I mean…Yes, I would like to leave. It is hot in here."

He smiled at her and for once, her hair did not remind him of Ichigo.

She didn't mind that Ishida wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they left the club. She didn't mind how he spoke more personally with her, how he played with strands of her hair as he walked her home.

Ichigo, she though, would have never done that.

Ichigo would have walked protectively in front of her, would have made sure she didn't do anything stupid or talk to anyone dangerous or questionable. He would have merely lead her, protected her, and delivered her like a fragile object.

She was experiencing what she would have missed with Ichigo. And that was perfectly fine, she decided. Ishida's smiles were warm towards her and his attention was never drawn from her face. He wasn't Ichigo, but he could give her what she so desperately wanted: returned affection, meaningful looks that were not one-sided, and perhaps…one day… She blushed at her own thoughts and averted Ishida's gaze.

"What is it?" He laughed.

"Nothing!" She returned his smile and played with his fingers over her shoulder. "Just thinking weird stuff, like I usually do."

"Tell me."

"No!"

"Please?" His fingers touched the skin of her throat.

"I can't say it. It's too embarrassing!" She whined in a playful voice.

"Fine. You tell me what you were thinking and I'll tell you something I was thinking. Ok?"

Orihime looked skeptically at him before looking ahead and speaking quietly, "I was just thinking how…I couldn't imagine doing this with Ichigo."

She turned to look at him. He blushed and turned away, "Oh really?"

"Yes! Now what were you thinking!?" She challenged.

He turned to her and took her chin gently in his hands, "I was thinking the same thing."

He kissed her and she vowed to never think of Ichigo Kurosaki again.

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