Title: Fire & Ice
Pairing: Arisawa Tatsuki/Hitsugaya Toshiro, mentions of Ichigo and his unnamed sister
Rating: hard R, but not NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: mentions of character death, some lude behavior, illusions to war
Summary: Whatever it is, it's going to get them killed.
Authors Notes: I decided to get back into the Bleach fandom by writing this of all things. What is going on in my head I have no idea. Toshiro's supposed to look older, I'd say 17 at the most.

She could honestly say she used to hate Urahara's basement. It had never made any sense to her, always threw her internal clock out of whack, not to mention that blond shop owner had usually just pissed her off. But now, seven years after the very first time she walked into the old man's training field, she found it was the only place she still felt at home in.

Ichigo didn't come here anymore, maybe that was why.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, her eyes falling closed as she tilted her face up to the artificial sunlight. Cold air at her back contrasted heavily with the warmth against her front and her lips tilted upward.

"Toshiro."

He said nothing, but his feet crunched against the gravel, the cold against her burned against her skin. He reached out and ran his hand down the back of her hair, twisting his fingers around the end of the long dark strands. "That's Captain."

Smirking was all the reaction he got from her and he released her hair as retribution. The cold emanating from his body shifted with the gravel on the ground as he moved around her. He was taller than she was, time passed so differently for him that she wondered sometimes which of them missed the other more. His fingers wrapped around a long of her hair once again and he tugged slightly, pulling her head away from the endless ceiling. His fingers tightened and she opened her eyes. Another tug and she was meeting his lips with her own, parting them slightly to run her tongue over the seam of his lips. He parted his own eagerly and deepened the kiss, winding his other arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

Her own hands came up to push at his chest, forcing him to break the kiss - which he did with a groan of regret. Toshiro pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut, his face twisting into a pain filled expression.

"Why?" he asked softly, his breath cold against her skin. She knew what he was asking, but there was no easy answer she could give him.

"You know why," she said instead, her fingers curling against his chest. "Ichigo will kill me."

Toshiro snorted. "That's stupid. You're not his sister, you're not-"

Tatsuki held her breath as she waited for the angry shove she knew was coming, but Toshiro had gone still against her, his jaw firming with unrequited anger that he'd never been able to be with the woman he loved so much and so hard. Tatsuki ran her closed hand down his chest, stopping at his hakama-himo, then sliding her fingers into the belt she pulled his hips against hers without pause. His expression had gone black, his head pulled away from her slowly and he stared down at her with an expression she couldn't read but was quite familiar with. She'd used that one before.

"Arisawa."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his as he cut through the silence with her name, his eyes were almost narrow. "Shiro-chan." His upper lip pulled into a snarl. She'd almost forgotten how cold it was. Her eyebrow cocked in mockery. "Shiro-kun?"

It was nearly snowing he was so pissed off, but the bitterness had at least faded from his eyes. She smirked at him, rising slowly on her toes until her mouth was hovering over his. "To-shi-ro?"

"He has no claim over you," growled Toshiro against her lips. "You're not his wife or even his friend."

Tatsuki sighed, pulling back slightly so she could look him in the eyes. Sometimes she wished they could have different conversation for a change. "I'm his comrade."

His glare turned haughty for a moment and he sneered. "And I'm his enemy. In a war against Seireitei he would consider this treason. You're right," Toshiro snorted and took a step away. "He will kill you."

Tatsuki didn't let go of his hakama-himo though, and she tried to pull him back to her as a pout settled on her mouth. She didn't do coy, it was why he liked her, but she just couldn't help it. He was too adorable sometimes. "Toshiro, you know what you mean to him."

Probably not the smartest thing to say to the Tenth Division captain, but the meaning behind it was the truth. He snarled and grabbed her wrist, tearing her hand away from him like it burned. Tatsuki tutted, propping her fists on her hips and narrowed her gaze on him. "Childish. He hates you because you wont give him his sister. Fucking me won't help either of us."

"We. Don't. Have. Her!" snarled Toshiro, taking another step away form her. From any other man it might have looked like he was retreating, but there was ice forming across the ground towards her and she didn't think for a second that he was backing off. "Is that the only reason you're here? To get information on neutral ground for Kurosaki?"

Tatsuki rolled her eyes, but her fists immediately clenched at her sides in fury."I wouldn't do that to Ichigo. He'd never forgive me. Besides, I think I just told you that this," here she gestured between them, leaning forward and pinning him with a sardonic look. "Isn't doing either side any good. You'll be killed, I'll be killed. Ichigo will rage and the war will go on until he gets his sister-"

"I DON'T HAVE HER!" roared Toshiro so loudly the ice forming between them shattered. Tatsuki didn't flinch at the volume, but she did give him a wary look. His eyes were wet. Damn. She had the decency to look away from him, to give him a chance to compose himself and lowered her voice. "I believe you. Always have."

There was a horribly cold gust of wind against her face, then a pressure against her back. He'd shunpo'd behind her, and what a terribly stupid idea it had been for her to look away. Stupid move Arisawa, she shook her head ruefully and leaned backwards against his chest, feeling his arms come up and wrap around her. His mouth pressed against the base of her throat and it astounded her how quickly he could throw off his emotions. Like he locked them in a box for special occasions and she-had-the-key.

Her breath hitched when his tongue touched her skin, tracing her suddenly racing pulse point. She craned her neck to give him better access and in turn he bit down lightly onto her flesh, humming. Tatsuki slid her hand behind her back, cupping him through his hakama and grinning when she found him hard for her. He growled against her neck and scraped his teeth up the column of her throat, licking at the underside of her jaw. She moaned, her hand going slightly limp.

One of Toshiro's hands splayed against her ribcage, his thumb between her breasts. The other laid flat against her stomach and slid down, down, down, below the waistband of her pants and into her underwear, pausing for a moment just to feel her burn against his hand.

"Ichigo will kill us both," whispered Tatsuki, trying not to act too desperate for his touch as her body fairly ignited. Her body heat was rising and the ice around their feet was melting fast as the tips of her hair caught fire when Toshiro's fingers slipped inside her.

She could see his breath in front of her face as he nuzzled her cheek with his nose to get her to turn her head, meeting his lips. He growled into her mouth, the hand between her breasts sliding up, stopping on her throat. Their contrasting body heat made Tatsuki moan, then gasp and jerk against the hand down her pants.

"Kurosaki can go fuck himself."