Bed Rest

Isane stared her reflection, turning this way and that. She tried sucking in her stomach, arching her back to push out her chest, pulling her hair back from her face, but it was no use.

She had nothing to offer, and that was why she was alone.

Rangiku was sexy. Momo was cute and innocent. Rukia was feisty. Nanao had that whole repressed schoolteacher/librarian thing going on. Even Nemu had plenty of admirers who wanted to rescue her from her father.

There weren't that many Shinigami who were women. There should have been plenty of men to go around, but not for Isane.

She was too practical to be sexy, too gangly to be cute, too shy and cowardly to be feisty. She was white rice: nutritious and filling, but bland, mundane, completely uninteresting.

Oh well. There was nothing helping it. With one last sigh, Isane straightened her uniform and threw herself into her duties. She had rounds to make.

By mid-morning, she was exhausted. Their triumph over Aizen hadn't come easily, and half of the strongest Shinigami in Seireitei were still in her division recovering. Unfortunately, many of them were either Captains or from the Eleventh Division, so they weren't easy to deal with. But it was okay. She always looked forward to the last patient of her morning rounds. He was polite, never complained, and was always interesting to talk to.

"Hitsugaya-taichou," she called as she rapped her knuckles on the doorframe and stepped into the room. "How are you today?"

"Just fine," he replied, looking up from a stack of paperwork he'd had Rangiku-san sneak in. He said nothing as she took the documents from him, placed them on the bed stand, and began checking his vitals.

"You must be glad to know that Hinamori-fukutaichou is going to be all right," she said off hand. She always asked him questions, tried to get him to talk. At first it was just to keep things from being awkward, but after nearly a week and a half of conversing three times a day, her motives had evolved. Now she did it just to hear his voice, to feel that fluttery sensation that she got in her stomach whenever his undivided attention settled on her.

"Yes. I cannot imagine the alternative," he replied.

She tried not to be jealous, not to let on how much she longed to have a man care about her the way Hitsugaya-taichou cared about Momo. And to have that man be the Tenth Division Captain himself? The thought made her so giddy she almost giggled. "Does this mean you're finally going to make a move?" she blurted out, almost in atonement for her wayward thoughts.

"What?" he snapped.

Oops. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I'm sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou, I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

"Don't apologize. Just explain."

"W-well, it's obvious that you care about her very much, and she's crazy about you, so I just assumed . . . ."

He frowned at her. "You assumed what, exactly?"

"Th-that you would want to date her, of course. I've seen the way you look at her, and how worried you were when we didn't know if she was going to make it." She sighed. "I wish someone would look at me like that," she mumbled under her breath.

Unfortunately, he heard her. "You must be mistaken, Kotetsu-fukutaichou. While I am immensely relieved that she is recovering so well, I am quite sure I have never looked at Momo like she was anything more than a sister and a friend, and absolutely positive that I never will." He paused, quirking an eyebrow at her. "I am equally convinced that several men must have looked at you in the way you are imagining that I looked at Momo."

She shook her head as she fluffed his pillows. "I think there was a compliment in there somewhere, so thank you. But you're the one who's mistaken. Women have to be beautiful for men to look at them like that. Beautiful and-and special. I'm not either one of those things."

"Kotetsu-fukutaichou, you're beautiful. You're also an excellent healer, fiercely loyal, honest, forthright, kind. And very, very sexy."

She had begun to smile, but her face fell at his final words and she turned to leave. "You don't have to lie to me, Hitsugaya-taichou. I know you're trying to be kind, but I prefer the truth. We both know there's nothing sexy about me."

She went to put her hand on the door, but he was already in front of it. Wincing in pain.

"Hitsugaya-taichou! You shouldn't be shunpoing, you haven't fully recovered! Get back in bed, you need your rest!"

She tried to guide him back to bed, but he just stood there with his arms crossed, glaring at her. He was half her size and at half his strength, but still ridiculously intimidating. He had her cowed in an instant.

"I apologize, Hitsugaya-taichou," she said, dropping to her knees and bowing deeply. "I forgot my place." She was a lieutenant, he was a captain. There was no use in crying about it. So why did her cheeks feel wet?

Fingers tangled in her hair, and she was pulled into a wall of steel.

"Baka," he muttered, cradling her head against his chest. He flashed them to the bed, still holding her in his arms.

She shrieked and, thrown off balance, grabbed onto him. The muscles in his chest felt foreign and ropy under her fingers. She pressed harder, surprised at how springy they were. He snorted, and all the blood in her body suddenly rushed to her cheeks. She gave his smirking face a quick glance and buried her burning face back into his chest.

"What are you doing?" she finally croaked out, the sound slightly muffled. The fingers were back running through her hair again.

"You told me to get back in bed."

She blushed even further, if it were at all possible, and moved to get off his lap. His arms tightened around her.

"Where are you going? Stay."

She stiffened. Just because he had reminded her of their respective positions did not mean she was going to allow him to take advantage of her. "Hitsugaya-taichou," she began in a frosty tone, "I don't think—"

"Calm down, Isane. That wasn't an order. I'm not pulling rank on you."

The blush that had disappeared in her anger came back full-scale. What was she thinking? He wasn't some Eleventh Division hooligan to be sexually harassing the female healers. "I apologize again, Hitsugaya-taichou. I . . . wasn't thinking."

He was smirking again. "Three blushes in less than two minutes. You are a delight. And you don't think you're sexy?"

"I-I-I—" She was pinned into place by the tealest of eyes.

"I'd kind of like to kiss you right now, but I don't want you to accuse me of taking advantage."

"Y-you—"

"So you're going to have to make the first move, Kotetsu-fukutaichou. Can you handle it?"

"I-I—"

"Come on, be bold," he said in the huskiest, most intimate whisper. God, he was tempting. Powerful and intimidating and way too short for her and the most amazing man in the whole of Seireitei. And he wanted to kiss her.

Shutting her eyes tight, she went for broke, surging forward and brushing her lips across his.

It was the oddest feeling. Part wonder at the firm, soft, slightly cool sensation of his lips against hers. Part amazement that she had actually done this. That maybe she had a little bit of feistiness in her, too. And part panic at the realization that she had no idea what to do next.

Luckily he took mercy on her, wrapping his arms around her, tilting her head just so, and kissing her until she forgot her own name.

"Hitsugaya-taichou," she moaned, when they finally broke apart gasping for air.

He snorted. "I think, at this point, you can call me Toushirou."

She just stared at him, shocked into silence until he shifted, rotating his shoulder and wincing a bit.

"You're in pain!" she realized, beginning to scoot away. "I'm so sorry!"

He stopped her with a hand on her back. "Stop apologizing for everything."

"I'm too heavy!" If only she wasn't so tall. What was she thinking, she had no chance with Tou—Hitsugaya-taichou! No man wanted to date a giant woman who towered over him. Hitsugaya-taichou was a nice man, despite his exterior. He must have just been trying to cheer her up.

She scrambled off his lap. He gave her a questioning look, seeming slightly annoyed.

"What are you doing now?" he asked.

"Thank you for cheering me up, Hitsugaya-taichou!" she chirped in an overly bright tone. "I have to attend to my other patients, but I feel much better now!"

Tch. Thanking him for "cheering her up." He wasn't a fool. He spent most of his time with Matsumoto, and he recognized that tone of voice. Oh well. He really did need to rest. He decided he'd take it up with her when she came back in to check on him that evening, and settled in for a nap.

Except she didn't show up that evening. Or the next morning. For the next two days, Hanatarou Yamada brought him his food and medication, checked on his progress, did all the things Isane had been doing for him since he'd been brought in.

When he finally asked after her, he was told that the Fourth Division lieutenant was "overworked" and concentrating on only the "life-threatening cases." Bullshit. The fight with Aizen had ended nearly two weeks ago. If someone's injuries had remained "life-threatening" for that long, they had to be dead by now.

She was hiding from him. That wouldn't do.

He threw off the covers, stood up, and headed for the door, ignoring Hanatarou's pleas that he was "still weak" and "should stay in bed." Isane was the only reason he hadn't forced his way out of the Fourth Division a week ago. He'd been admiring her practicality and grace for years from afar, and he'd greatly enjoyed the opportunity to spend more time with her, away from the prying eyes of others. Something about her made him relax, open up in a way not even Momo or Matsumoto could accomplish, and they knew him better than anyone. It was her patience, the way she never treated him like a child or tried to get a rise out of him, the way she was so open about herself and surprisingly amusing. He'd never forget the story of her fish cake nightmare . . . .

He found her in the hallway, trying to persuade Madarame and Ayasegawa to stop yelling.

"You two aren't completely healed yet, and you're disturbing other patients! I really must insist that you return to your rooms," she said, crossing her arms and giving them the cutest, and least intimidating, glare he'd ever seen.

He stood behind her and added the power of his own glare to hers. He knew the exact moment the two idiots noticed him, because they stopped in mid-protest, apologized, began backing down the hall.

Isane just looked puzzled. "That's never worked before," she muttered, looking around her to see what had really convinced them. Her eyes glanced off of his and then quickly returned. "Hitsugaya-taichou!" she shrieked, backing away. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I was lonely without you in it." He walked toward her.

"Wh-what?" she took another step backward and glanced around at their audience, who had tuned into the conversation in earnest after his last statement.

"You've been avoiding me, Isane." He took another step forward.

"N-no, I haven't—"

"You're lying, Isane."

Suddenly she stopped backing away, wrapped her arms around her middle, and sighed. "Okay, you're right. I have been avoiding you. But only because I didn't want you to have to continue this pointless charade."

That threw him off. "What charade?"

"The one where you pretend that you feel something for me."

"You mean the one that's not a charade?" he asked, amused.

"Yes, I—No! Hitsugaya-taichou, you can't possibly find me attractive, and I wish you'd stop pretending! I'm too tall and gangly, and shy and awkward and—"

"I thought I told you to call me Toushirou."

Their audience gasped. He just rolled his eyes. He didn't make everyone call him by his title.

"That's exactly what I mean! Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but we both know things could never work between us. At the very least, I am way too tall for you!"

His eyebrow quirked. Was that a challenge? She obviously noticed his reaction, because she began backing away again.

"Now, Hitsugaya-taichou, I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I—eep!"

She yelped as his left arm swept her feet out from under her and she fell backward, right onto his right arm. He switched supporting arms, slid his fingers into the silky silver hair at the nape of her neck, and lowered his lips to hers. She resisted at first, flailing and trying to talk, but after a moment she gripped his shoulders and surrendered to the heat between them.

This time when he pulled away, she moaned "Toushirou," as was proper.

"Kotetsu-fukutaichou," he began, flashing her his smuggest look.

"Hmmm?" She seemed unsteady, so he swept her into a bridal carry.

"I don't think your height is going to be a problem. Do you?"

She flushed bright red. "No, Hitsugaya-taichou," she whispered, hiding her face in his neck.

"Toushirou."

"No, Toushirou."

"I didn't think so." Amidst the cheers and catcalls of a quarter of Seireitei, he turned and carried her back to his room.

"Now let's go tuck me back into bed."

A/N: Sorry, this is total crack, but it just wouldn't leave me alone. Updates on ongoing stories coming...eventually. Thanks for reading, please review!