(Originally posted 1/14/2012.)

XxXxXxX

They drove to the rendezvous point, Stinson Beach, in Urahara's van. Ichigo, sitting in the front seat beside Urahara, was still arguing, fruitlessly, twisting around to glare at Orihime in the back seat, her eyes resolutely focused outside the window on the passing scenery.

"Orihime, you know he's a liar, and a damn clever bastard. I'm sure it's going to be a trap. He's likely to have all sorts of men and equipment arranged at your rendezvous point. Plus he's going to be carrying weapons, poisons, who knows what, probably hidden on his person. You know what he's done before! He's drugged both of us without our even noticing. I don't even want to be within a ten foot radius of him! Much less have you there." He stopped, took a ragged breath. "I can't believe you're risking your life like this, going against Aizen."

Urahara glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. His eyes were shrewd. "Orihime, you're not counting on Aizen being sentimental about your past relationship, are you? You know that never made a difference to him before."

She shook her head. "No." She met his eyes in the mirror. "I'm quite aware he might try—and succeed—in killing or recapturing me."

"Then why are you doing this?" shouted Ichigo. "You're risking your life against a criminal's word?"

"No, Ichigo, I already explained," she said. Her voice was patient and soft. "I can't spend the rest of my life hiding. I just can't do it. This is the only way."

"But Orihime," Ichigo said, his voice gentling, "you don't have to give up. Sure, Aizen has a lot of resources, but so does Kisuke." The blond smirked from his position in the driver's seat. "I think they're quite evenly matched; actually, Kisuke has the edge… plus, we have truth on our side."

Orihime's eyes never wavered from his. "I'm not giving up, Ichigo. This is a negotiation, not a surrender. Believe me. I would never surrender." There was steely determination in her voice.

He subsided against the side of the van, sighing again.

XxXxXxX

Ulquiorra and perhaps two dozen of his men were in the vast chamber Aizen called his "war room." A 50-foot-tall video display screen took up much of one wall; over the expanse of white carpet were scattered a few dozen workstations, most of which were manned by his employees. Aizen himself sat at a huge console desk with multiple banks of displays and several keyboards. From the throne-like chair behind the console he could control much of the sensors and weaponry at his command, as well as connect to a world-wide computer network, and send orders to Las Noches employees and agents around the globe.

At a console only slightly smaller than his sat Ulquiorra, working intently at a keyboard. Starrk lounged another workstation over, apparently relaxed, but his eyes were glued to a monitor display.

"Ulquiorra," Aizen said softly, and the black-haired man stopped what he was doing, swiveled his chair around and got up.

His face expressionless, he walked over to stand in front of Aizen's desk. "Yes, Aizen-sama?"

"Is everything in position? I want to be able to come in, make the strike, and be gone within thirty seconds."

"I have ordered our men into position, and have run multiple simulations," Ulquiorra reported tonelessly. "Everything is ready."

"Good." Aizen smiled.

"But, sir," Ulquiorra began. He hesitated. Aizen raised his eyebrows. "Sir, my analysis of the situation is that she is telling the truth, and there will be no attack against you."

Aizen leaned back in his seat and studied Ulquiorra. "So?" he drawled.

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment, then the words all came out in a rush, with unusual vigor for the normally emotionless man. "Sir, why don't you take her offer of a truce at face value, and take her up on it?"

Their eyes met, and in both of their minds was the memory of her escape a few nights ago.

Aizen held the blade to Ulquiorra's throat and whispered, "Are you the traitor, Ulquiorra?"

The other man stood quietly. He did not tremble or shrink. "No, Aizen-sama. I am loyal to you. I would not have let her go against your orders."

"But you did counsel me against bringing her here."

"Because she no longer serves a useful purpose to you, Aizen-sama. Now that you have been released, there are so many opportunities for you. Why do you put so much energy into one powerless woman?"

Aizen's breath rasped against Ulquiorra's ears. "Did I give you permission to question my decisions?"

"You once said that you valued my unbiased opinion, sir."

Aizen gave a short bark of a laugh. "So you dare to challenge me?" The knife pressed more closely against Ulquiorra's jugular, but the man did not quiver.

"It is not a challenge but the voice of one who is allied with your own self-interest above all else, whether you believe me or not. Kill me if you choose; then you will have one less loyal and neutral advisor among your staff. How many of us have you lost over the years?" Ulquiorra's voice was preternaturally calm.

There was a long moment of silence. Then the brown-haired man's chest heaved. Slowly he backed away from his subordinate, the arm holding the knife dropping to his side. "Very well. You are correct that I value your views and analyses, Ulquiorra." He moved to a chair and sat down abruptly. "Do you have an alternate course of action in mind?"

"Yes. I think you should let them go."

Aizen's eyes narrowed, and his voice was tight when he answered. "And once they escape, they will go running to Kisuke Urahara. The man is wealthy beyond belief, almost as wealthy as I am. Additionally, he is perhaps the only human on this planet whose intellect rivals my own. Allied, they make formidable enemies. They will plot to put me behind bars once again." Aizen looked out at the night sky, at the forested grounds dimly visible through the plate-glass windows. "I hate being confined," he said in a low, bitter voice.

Ulquiorra gazed at him levelly. "Will capturing this girl help you with that? I thought once you got out of prison, you had won. Why did you feel the need to make another move?"

Aizen did not answer for a long time as he stared out at the darkness. Then he sighed. "Perhaps it was, as you say, a tactical error. But it is too late now. If I let them go, they will accuse me of another crime, and I will have to return to that filthy prison." He straightened and looked back at Ulquiorra. "No. I have to follow the path through to its end." His voice hardened. "My decision stands. I want you to make sure your men recapture them."

Ulquiorra bowed. "As you wish, sir." He walked toward the door.

Just then, all the lights went out.

Aizen looked at the smaller man. He smiled. "Et tu, Ulquiorra? What power does Orihime have, my friend, to turn all my loyal servants against me?"

"I am not against you, sir. I am only saying… this may be your last chance to escape from the cycle of violence that you are escalating against Urahara." His eyes met his master's, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "She is offering you freedom, Aizen-sama. A chance to get off the wheel of revenge."

Aizen turned away, his face closed. "I have made my decision, Ulquiorra. And it's final."

XxXxXxX

Stinson Beach was windy and cold under a low overcast. The Pacific stretched out to the west, a stippled leaden sheet, and a chilly breeze whipped over the beach, blowing dead leaves across piles of driftwood scattered over the sand, lashing the greenish waves against the shore in an ancient, hollow rhythm.

At either end of the beach stood a pair of humans. At the south end, Ichigo and Orihime stood motionless and unspeaking as the wind whipped their clothing and hair. He gave her one last, intense hug, before taking a deep breath, standing back and letting her begin her walk up the beach. He could just barely see the two small figures at the other end: Ulquiorra and Aizen. As Orihime began walking, Aizen started strolling toward her, to meet her in the middle of the beach as agreed.

Ichigo grimaced. Urahara was nearby, probing for treachery. But there was only so much his equipment could do. As Ichigo watched Orihime walk away from him, it was all he could do to stop himself from running after her. All his instincts shouted at him that she was walking into terrible danger, that he needed to stop her. He needed to protect her.

Instead, he stood on the desolate, windy beach, feeling the salt breeze nip at his ears and deposit brine on his lips, watching the love of his life striding further and further away.

Orihime marched along the beach, her lips pressed firmly together. She was well aware that her life might be measured in minutes. She lifted her chin and covered the ground with a brisk stride, walking toward the man who had caused her more grief than any other person in this world.

He had repeatedly lied to her during their time together in high school; had caused her to lie to her dearest friends; had arranged multiple crimes with the purpose of manipulating her; had ordered deaths in front of her own eyes. When they had met again during her time as a biochemistry researcher for the Gotei Corporation, he had drugged her, kidnapped her, and threatened her; he had nearly killed Ichigo merely as a machination for one of his games.

Working together with Ichigo and Kisuke Urahara and the FBI, they had managed to corner Aizen and had sent him to jail. But the man had never stopped plotting. He had never stopped his criminal lifestyle, running his organization from within prison. He had been responsible for scores of deaths.

The man was evil. Unredeemable.

But still, as she approached him on the beach, saw the wind tugging at his hair, tousling it further; that one annoying loose curl of hair between his eyes being whipped back and forth; those long, slender limbs still moving with grace as he walked toward her over the gritty, damp sand; still, when she saw him, she could remember the boy he once was; the boy who loved math and puzzles, whose eyes lit up when he saw how happy she was during a Hawaiian vacation he had given her.

The boy who once claimed he loved her.

She walked steadily forward, nearing him. As she walked, she drew a small object out of her pocket, a gold chain bearing a small locket.

Finally, they stopped, about four feet apart, facing each other. Aizen's face bore an expression of mild amusement. Orihime took a deep breath, and then held up the locket. She was determined to get in the first word. "Sousuke," she said. "Do you remember when you gave me this?" She held the locket out so that it dangled from the chain. It hung open, and the two tiny pictures swung in the fitful breeze.

Aizen's face changed. He reached out for the locket, and their fingers touched. Orihime felt a sudden spark at the contact, and her eyes widened.

But Aizen had taken the locket and was looking at it. "You kept it," he murmured. He spun it in his long fingers, threading the bright gold strand between them. He looked up at her. "Why?"

Orihime shook her head. She didn't really know why. All she knew was that whenever she thought of throwing it away, it had seemed somehow wrong.

Aizen was smirking now, the softness that had momentarily passed over his face now gone. "Surely you don't believe that I hold any mawkishness about the past, Orihime." He tilted his head, examining her. "If you thought that you had any hold over me, that you could somehow reform me with the power of love…" His voice became sneering and ugly. "Then you are quite definitely mistaken."

In his pocket, his fingers caressed a small remote. One push of the button, and his forces would descend on the beach. Thirty seconds and it would all be over, and Orihime would be in his possession again, for good this time. He decided to wait a few moments, however, before pressing the button; he was curious, after all, as to what she was going to say to him.

"No," she said, staring up at him, her eyes steady. "I don't hold any such illusions. I'm here with a very practical offer."

The wind rose with a ferocious wail, beating at her lips and flinging her long hair back and forth. She brushed it back out of her face.

"It's very simple," she said. "I have something you want, and have control over something you don't want. While you have the power to do something I don't want. I think that means we can make a deal."

He smirked at that. "Orihime," he replied, his voice light and almost caressing. "You are foolish if you think you can negotiate with me as an equal." He gazed at her, his eyes unreadable. "You could have had power, and wealth beyond dreams of avarice. But you threw away the secret of the immortality process, and for what?" He smiled gently. "Merely to spite me. Now was that not childish?"

"No." Orihime stood straight against the wind, against his smile. He could never persuade her to believe a lie again. "I sacrificed that power and wealth to stop you from ruling the world unopposed, Sousuke. And it was the right decision. And I can still negotiate with you as an equal, because what you really want is my mind. A thing that can never be forced." She took a step forward and stared up into his deep brown eyes. "You can kill me or torture me, but you can never take my mind. It is a gift that has to be given willingly." She took a deep breath. "That is what I have to offer you. That and the promise that we won't try to send you back to jail."

Aizen gazed at her, his look of amusement deepening. "Are you so sure I can't take what I want? He took a step closer, reached out his hand, and stroked her cheek gently. "I know something about you, Orihime. I know that you're pregnant." He smiled at her indrawn breath. "Did you think I would not find out?" He stepped closer, bent to her ear. "A mother," he whispered, "is vulnerable because of her love for her child."

Orihime drew back, trembling now. "And how would you know that?" she retorted, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Was your mother vulnerable because of you?"

For a moment his gaze darkened and she almost thought he would do what he never had, not once in their entire convoluted relationship… she thought he would strike her. Then the expression passed and his face was smooth and calm again. "Perhaps," he said, and his voice was light and mocking again. "But what matters is that I am not vulnerable. I have never had a child." He was gazing at her with that faint smirk again. "I have never been burdened with familial relationships, nor friends who are weights around my legs. I am alone, and so I am free. Whereas you are chained to the earth by your ties."

Suddenly, she laughed. "Oh, Sousuke, you still don't understand what freedom truly is, do you? You will never have control over my mind by threatening my husband or my child. As I said, my mind, and my will, can only be freely given." Her voice soared, and there on that bleak and windy beach, she suddenly felt light and powerful, as though she could fly, as though she could hold the world in her hands. "Here is the deal I propose: you agree to stop this senseless vengeance against me and my family, and in return, we agree not to go to the police with our evidence. It is locked away in a safe spot, and if anything happens to us, it will automatically be delivered to the police."

Aizen looked at her. "That's it? That's your best offer, your earthshaking negotiation?" His eyes narrowed. "I must admit that I'm disappointed, my dear. It's not really enough to excite me."

"No. I'm not finished," she said, lifting her chin. "I further offer that I will work for you, in your company, for one month every year. In return, you will keep that company completely aboveboard and legal, and will cease all illegal lines of research. I will not work on illegal or unethical products. Further, I reserve the right to choose my own research directions. But I will give you my best work. My mind, for one month out of each year."

Aizen's face changed, and once again, she saw something in his eyes that she remembered from the days long past. But now, it was tempered with profound respect. "Ah. You are right, Orihime. That is perhaps the one thing that could tempt me." He smiled at her. "You are perhaps the most brilliant biochemist of your generation, with a mind that goes far beyond that of the ordinary human. A mind…" he spoke softly, reflectively, "that almost trespasses upon the divine."

He gazed at her, considering what she was offering him. It was true, he knew. Her brilliance, the creative spark of her ideas, could never be forced from her. And it was, indeed, what would be of most use to him, what could lead his company back to greatness. She could surely not know, but Las Noches was faltering. When he returned from his incarceration and had revisited the company sites, had begun to examine the books in person, he had seen all the signs.

The most competent of his followers were gone, either in prison or having left the company. Many of those who remained were sloppy and unintelligent. His staff seemed unmotivated; the company's profits were down; there were few new products in the pipeline. He could see it well. Las Noches was in the death spiral that sometimes came to corporations that had lost the essential spark that was necessary for growth and success. It was failing. And if he were imprisoned again, he would be unable to stop that failure, the slow decline into irrelevancy, the hemorrhaging of funds… And then, at last, without money, he would be powerless once more, another irrelevant criminal locked away in the bowels of a state prison, unable to even access the small comforts he had secured before.

He gazed down at Orihime's face, at her serene, confident gaze, and felt something odd deep within himself. He reflected that it was astonishing that mere proximity to this one woman who appeared to be so powerless, so ordinary, seemed to have a profound ability to affect him, as though reality were somehow distorted in her presence, as though she could modify phenomena in the real world, could reject the nature of things, could indeed, reject his own nature, tempered and blackened by the fire of reality, a soul burned beyond recognition and redemption; could, above all else, return at least a part of him to a state it once had, before events in his life had corroded and darkened his very essence.

He stared at her as his mind rearranged itself to consider what she was offering him. He realized with a sudden inner shock that it was a precious gift; a gift he could use; but more, it was a promise. She was offering him her trust; he, who had proven over and over again that he did not deserve trust. He kept his face neutral, but within, a small bloom of something he had not felt for years was unfurling.

Ulquiorra was standing far behind him on the beach, waiting patiently and loyally for him. "This may be your last chance to escape from the cycle of violence… she is offering you freedom."

There was a long silence as the wind died down for a moment and the beach became almost quiet. Then he stepped back, taking his hands out of his pockets. "Three months."

Orihime looked confused for a moment. "What?" she asked.

"I want three months a year of your time. In return, I agree to grant all your conditions."

Orihime lifted her chin. "Three months the first year, then one every year thereafter."

"Done."

XxXxXxX

They argued with her, at first. Especially Ichigo. Finally she said to him, "Don't you see? It was the only way."

Ichigo said, despair in his voice, "Why can't you just stick with Urahara, stick with the original plan to take Aizen to trial?"

"Because it'll turn into a war, Ichigo. Innocent people will die." She turned to face him, her grey eyes wide and intent. "Even if we put him in jail, he's still going to go on destroying people. Don't you see that?"

Ichigo clenched his jaw. "I don't see why you have to be the sacrifice to stop him, though."

"It's not a sacrifice, Ichigo. I don't like war. And I'm not just doing it for that. I still feel bad about destroying the immortality work. There's still important research that needs to be done. I want our child to grow up in a world that's at peace, a world where we can eradicate disease, where we can ease suffering. Don't you see, Ichigo?" she asked earnestly. "Aizen's company has the distribution channels, the infrastructure in place to make sure the Souten Kisshun process gets to the largest possible number of people. If we try to develop it with Urahara, first, we'll have to build that infrastructure from scratch, and second, Aizen will always be fighting us. We need to get him on our side."

Ichigo shook his head. "What makes you think putting your work in Aizen's hands will benefit anybody? He'll just use it to bribe people, same as he did before."

"No." She stepped forward, gripped his arms. "It's different this time. Last time I was his prisoner. This time, I'm negotiating with him as an equal."

His frown deepened. "Orihime, you can't trust the bastard! And whatever makes you think you'll be able to negotiate with him? He's got far more power and wealth than either of us. How can you fight a monster like that?"

Orihime's grey eyes were wide. Then she grinned suddenly. "Because I've got a lot more experience than he has, Ichigo—in one crucial area. It's one area where I'm stronger than him, so I've got the advantage."

Ichigo stared at her in complete bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

She continued smiling at him. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "Negotiation." She looked up at him, her head on one side. "Don't you see, Ichigo? Aizen has always just taken what he wants. He's a complete novice at the type of negotiating where both sides win." Her smile became more confident. "Whereas, because I'm not a fighter, I've been bargaining and collaborating all my life. I'll be able to negotiate rings around Aizen." She put her arms around him and looked up into his narrowed eyes, a sweet smile on her face. "Come on, Ichigo; you know I can do it. You're the one who's always been telling me I can do anything I put my mind to."

Ichigo closed his eyes and groaned. "Orihime, I didn't mean for you to turn my own words against me! I just don't like seeing you in danger." But he could not stop himself from putting his arms around her.

She snuggled up to him and felt him hold her close. "I know. And I know you'll protect me, and I'm actually counting on you still doing it, Ichigo." She murmured, "I feel so safe in your arms. You'll be behind me every step of the way, and that's why I'm confident I can go even into the depths of Hell to do this work."

Ichigo looked down at the woman cuddled in his arms and muttered, "That's a good analogy, because Aizen is certainly the devil himself."

"I know you're going to be watching over me, and hopefully Urahara will lend me some of his lawyers to make sure we have an ironclad contract with Aizen."

Ichigo huffed in exasperation. "I guess I just don't see why a bastard like Aizen should get any benefit from your work."

"Will we really all be better off if there's a war where lots of people die, and the immortality process never gets put into wide use? Remember, it's still frightfully expensive. Ichigo, there are so many people dying all the time that this process could save! Don't you want our child to grow up in a world where many of the crippling diseases are stamped out, where people can live long enough to become wise, where health care can be available even to the poor? Ichigo, I want to make sure this process is available to everybody, not just the rich. And someone like Aizen is perfect to help lead this type of work."

"Why?" grumbled Ichigo. "Why wouldn't he just want to keep it for himself and a few of his cronies?"

She laughed. "Aizen doesn't just want wealth, Ichigo. He wants glory. If he's the man who brings health and long life to the world, it'll be far more to his advantage than being a petty criminal."

Ichigo frowned. "He doesn't look to me like someone who wants to be the world's benefactor, Orihime."

"No," she said sincerely, "Aizen has always wanted to stand at the top of the world. He just never really knew how to do it." She grinned at him again. "The approach he's been taking has always been doomed to failure. But we can show him how to do it right. With us as partners, who's to say what we can't do together, and what we can bring to the world?"

Ichigo scowled. "And you think you can talk him into it?"

"No. I can help him see that it'll be in his own best interest to go along with it."

Sighing, Ichigo stared at his wife, at the new, fierce determination in her. He knew that when she got this way there was no stopping her. He just hated the thought of Orihime going into danger. And then another thought struck him, making him scowl with renewed vigor.

"There's something else, Orihime. The bastard still wants you. I mean—romantically," he said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "He's still pissed off that he hasn't gotten you. How do we know—mmph?" He broke off. Orihime had taken her cheeks in his hands, and tiptoeing, had brought her lips to his. The kiss was gentle, but sweet; her lips were warm and tasted of that subtle essence of Orihime, the spicy but intoxicating flavor of the love of his life. His lips parted to meet and welcome her kiss. There was a long pause while the two of them got lost in the kiss for a few moments.

Pulling away, she laughed, "Oh, Ichigo. I can't believe you're still jealous. Don't you know the only reason I ever even dated him was because I thought you weren't interested in me?"

Ichigo scowled. "I can't believe I was ever so dense."

Orihime hugged him tightly. "You were always the only one for me. Didn't I tell you about the fortune teller who revealed you were my soul mate in five lifetimes?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright and shining. "There's no way I'll ever let you go in this one."

As Ichigo held her, their bodies pressed together, he felt an abrupt movement as the skin of Orihime's belly bulged out for a moment, taking on the shape of a tiny foot. With wonder, he realized that their child was kicking. Their child, who would be born in a world they would help shape.

Ichigo's face softened, and he traced his fingertips over Orihime's soft, slightly pink cheeks. "Good, because you're damn well mine for all of eternity, Orihime."

~THE END~