A/N: I must be suicidal. I swore to myself that I wouldn't publish another story until I finished my other ones, but you all know my willpower. Or lack of it.

It must be known that this is a collaboration with moonlightrurouni. So when you finish here you have to go read her story, which is titled "Cursed to Forget." Or maybe you're coming here from hers. The general idea is that it's one story, and she's writing Orihime's perspective while I write Ulquiorra.

Okay, so...Standard Issue Disclaimer: And I'm only going to say this once, guys. No one reads this junk anyways. I could be talking about Bacon up in here and no one would ever know. But, for the lawyer's sake, I don't own Bleach. Unless you count 39 volumes of manga and a character book. What? Why are you looking at me funny?

It was her cheeks, he decided; definitely her cheeks. They were so soft, so smooth; they were always flushed so beautifully whenever she looked at him. Under his cold fingers, they were so warm; but as he slid his ivory hands up toward her eyes, and back down towards her hair, he changed his mind. No, it was not her cheeks; it was her hair. Fanning out behind her head, it was thick, luxurious, intoxicating. He ran his fingers between the strands, passing easily through the silky mass. Sliding his hands down, resting them on the small of her back, he changed his mind again; it was her eyes, definitely her eyes. Closed now, he could vividly see her sparkling gray orbs behind his own green eyes - open and gazing at him, or darting away when she opened her mouth in some loving admission, or even hidden behind delicate, purplish lids, fluttering when her lips touched his. And that brought his mind back to what he was now sure was her best feature: her lips. Pink, plump, smooth as a baby's bottom, they were usually stretched into a smile as wide as the ocean and as happy as an innocent puppy. His favorite place for them to be, however, was locked solidly against his own, as they were now.

Hot tongues battled within her wet mouth; he won over and began to explore the cavern he found himself inside. His hands roamed restlessly over her back, up and down from her shoulder blades over her hips. Her fingers scratched at his chest through his shirt, making his gut tingle in a way that made him angle his head even closer to her. He clutched her body even closer to his, sandwiching himself between her magnificent chest and the white couch she slept on, a shiver running over him. Their legs twined together, and every so often one of hers would give a little kick. She moaned, her voice low, into his mouth, and suddenly there was too much fabric and he wanted it gone and he'd rip it from her skin if he had to, didn't matter if they were on the uncomfortable old couch in her room, nothing would get between him and his Orihime -

A knock sounded at the door, abrupt and precise; he opened green eyes to meet her gray ones, the eyes he had been worshiping so completely earlier, the sparkle now one of alarm instead of love. Her hair - her glorious autumn-colored hair! - hung down from her scalp, creating a curtain between them and the outside world. He gazed up at her, taking in her face, her flush cheeks, her red and swollen lips before he remembered the knock at the door and slowly pushed himself up, letting her draw away from his chest. Giving her one last, deep and lingering kiss, he stood, collected his pastel-handled blade and turned to her one last time.

"I shall return in a moment," he promised, buckling the sword distractedly to his belt. The last thing he wanted was to leave her glorious embrace and face whatever the being at the door was bringing, but he had no choice. She smiled slightly and tucked her flaming hair behind her ear, aiming her gaze downward and hunching her back in a chaste way that made him want to pin her back down and make her his, messenger be damned. Swallowing those thoughts, he turned back away from her before his once-iron willpower crumbled like the sand it had become.

"Bye, Ulquiorra," she said softly, and he clenched his jaw to resist her succulent voice before forcing a hand to the door handle and slipping out of her door, letting it shut behind him.

Outside was one of Aizen-sama's Números, the nameless Arrancar that wandered the hallways of Las Noches, carrying out errands for anyone who was higher ranked then themselves in return for keeping their worthless lives. Trash, Ulquiorra thought, still irritated by the interruption.

"Aizen-sama requests your presence, sir," the Número murmured, its gaze trained on the cold stone floor. Ulquiorra brushed wordlessly past it, sweeping away from the woman's room.

Their romance had not started off as such. Sure, when he had first seen her, he had felt a mild attraction, although at the time he had no idea what the stirring in his gut, the slight burn around his hollow hole was, so he decided to ignore it. But when he noticed that it became worse around the woman, he had decided to act upon his instincts. The woman - Orihime - had probably been surprised at first, given his previous cold demeanor towards her, but then she had warmed up to his passionate first kiss. And one thing lead to another; a week later, they were found on the couch, in the position he had previously described.

He could not explain the feeling that made his chest constrict when he laid his eyes upon her form. It was a tightening in his torso, a pounding in his head; it was a sensation that made his ears ring and his abdomen tingle, a sensation that made his knees weak and his fingers tremble. It made him want to run to her graceful form, fold her willowy frame within his embrace, clutch her tightly against his muscular chest and never let go. It made him want to grasp her soft, feminine jaw, made him want to tilt up her glowing face with slight pressure applied with his thumbs, made him want to press his black and white lips to her pink ones. Made him want to see her laugh and dance, made him want to wipe away her tears. It scared him, and the only thing that dissolved his worry was when he was able to do these things, to press her into his arms and kiss away her sorrow. To tell her that everything would be okay.

One roadblock remained in their relationship, and that was Aizen-sama. It was clear to Ulquiorra that he did not want his fourth Espada and his prisoner engaging in any type of romantic act. If the man found out about it...Ulquiorra held back a shudder.

Arriving at the throne room, Ulquiorra pushed all the thoughts of Orihime from his mind, wanting to get done with this meeting and return to his newfound goddess. But when he entered the throne room of Aizen-sama, the foreboding in the air was so thick, it was like Nnoitra's hierro skin. Uncertainly, Ulquiorra allowed the door to swing closed behind him and stood just in the entryway, sinking into a low bow in the direction of his master, although the latter's back was turned.

"You called, Aizen-sama?"

Slowly, slowly, the man allowed his chair to rotate around to face his fourth knight. As usual, his hand was propping his jaw up; his elbow was resting on the arm of the chair. A small smile graced his features.

Today, the smile had a frosty edge that Ulquiorra did not like.

"Ah, my dear Ulquiorra," Aizen-sama said. His voice was too placid, too difficult to read. Unease made Ulquiorra's throat drop down into his stomach with a painful, audible splash. "I wish to discuss something of the utmost importance with you today. Please, come closer." Aizen-sama gestured for the monotonous Arrancar to stand by his side, and with legs suddenly feeling like jelly, Ulquiorra did so.

"What is it that you wish to share with me, my lord?" Ulquiorra inquired, his voice low and steady.

Aizen did not even blink as his smile stretched fractionally wider. "Our prisoner, the gentle Inoue Orihime."

Ulquiorra kept his face blank and neutral, knowing that his master was gauging a reaction from his stoic servant. "She is healthy, eating well, and ready to serve you whenever my lord wishes," he reported, and fell silent.

"And she is happy?" Aizen-sama asked, no change in his expression.

"I would not know, my lord." Ulquiorra kept his eyes steadily locked on Aizen-sama without wavering. "I myself am inexperienced in these areas."

"She does not tell you of her emotions?" Aizen-sama asked carefully.

"No, my lord."

Aizen-sama seemed to lean forward a bit. His hand lifted from its place in his lap, and he gestured for Ulquiorra to come a little closer. Slightly surprised, Ulquiorra leaned toward his master, bending a little at the waist to lower his head to the level of the brunette sitting calmly in the chair. Aizen-sama propelled himself a little off of the cushions, lifting his hand and placing it on Ulquiorra's cheek. Eyes widening marginally in shock, Ulquiorra fought to hold still as Aizen-sama lifted his lips to Ulquiorra's ear and breathed a sentence against the ice-cold ivory skin.

"You are lying to me."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened impossibly, showing white all around his emerald irises. His body jerked back as if shocked, and his heart was pounding.

They were caught. It was definitely over. Aizen-sama would kill him and Inoue both. They were as good as dead now. For some reason Ulquiorra felt something burbling up in his chest that he had never felt before, something that made his pale forehead break out in sweat. He stumbled a step away from his master, who kept the small, amused grin plastered to his face. The feeling rose in Ulquiorra's chest and enveloped his mind. It was another feeling that seemed to have come with his new love for the girl.

The feeling was what he believed humans called panic.

"You see, Ulquiorra," said Aizen-sama pleasantly, "I had a slight feeling there was something amiss. Your reports of the girl have been too vague. Your attention is constantly elsewhere, despite the fact that you are always the most attentive at meetings – or should I say, you were always the most attentive at meetings. So yesterday, when you took the girl out for her exercise, I had a camera installed in her room."

A feeling of uncomprehending horror bared its ugly head inside Ulquiorra, side by side with its equally ugly brother, Panic.

"And what do you think I saw?" Aizen-sama said. "Well, when you went to feed the girl, I summoned all my Espada to me. And we watched what happened when you went to bring the girl her food. Yes, she ate all right. She ate food, as well as something else. Let's see, what was it that Nnoitra said…?" He pretended to think. "Ah yes, your face. So, Ulquiorra, what it boils down to is…you have disobeyed my orders."

Humiliation battled with Panic and Uncomprehending Horror inside of Ulquiorra. In the end they declared a truce and stood proudly side by side, baring their ugly chests to the world. Each equally strong, each equally powerful.

Ulquiorra bowed his head. "Forgive me, Aizen-sama. I have no excuses. I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you see fit to bestow upon me."

He didn't dare look up when Aizen-sama started speaking.

"Ah, yes, Ulquiorra. You see, that's the funny thing about my punishments. You say you are prepared to accept whatever punishment I see fit, but then the punishment I see fit is, in fact, a punishment that you do not wish to accept at all. Take Mr. Jeagerjaques for example," here he paused, and his voice became more amused, "well, he said the same thing. But you wouldn't want to enlighten him on that particular punishment, would you? Not when I have worked so hard to make him forget…?"

Uncomprehending Horror stepped forward momentarily, and Ulquiorra raised his head. "You're going to make me forget her…?" he breathed.

Aizen-sama's smile dipped a little. "No, no," he said. "I know that what you wish is to remove your emotions once more, Ulquiorra, and if I made you forget the girl you would not complain. That would, in fact, be punishing her. She would be left with emotions that would not be returned, an unwanted unrequited love. And we do not want to punish our prisoner. We want to punish you."

The words struck Ulquiorra like physical blows. He did not, in fact, know what he would do if emotions were once again lost to him. A whole new world had opened before him, and he was curious to see what it held.

But then again, maybe Aizen-sama was right. Maybe he would turn his back on that world if given the chance.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I do not follow."

"Respectful as always, even when receiving punishment. Well, Ulquiorra, I shall spell it out for you. We are going to make her forget you. She shall be transferred into the care of one of the other Espada. And you will be left with your feelings and shall never see her face again."

With swift, fatal blows, Uncomprehending Horror got Panic and Humiliation into chokeholds and killed them swiftly and without even a chance to make a strangled last cry. The remaining emotion rose behind Ulquiorra's eyes as he stared at his master.

"No…"

"Would you like to know whose care she shall be bestowed into?"

Ulquiorra couldn't even speak. His whole body was numb.

"Her health and care is now in the hands of the Segunda Espada, Barragan Luisenbarn, and his multitude of Fracciónes. He has five or six. I can never remember, can you?" Aizen-sama said conversationally. "Let's see. There's Ggio, Charlotte, Findorr…"

"Please," Ulquiorra said. His voice came out as little more than a croak. The words slipped from his mouth uncontrollably, words that his lips and tongue had never formed before. "Please. Anything but that."

"That's what they all say," Aizen-sama said pleasantly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Ulquiorra. In order for this punishment to work, our newest Arrancar needs to be able to see your face. So we need you to be asleep. We can't have you get the satisfaction of saying goodbye to the sweet Orihime, now can we? Now, Ulquiorra…nighty-night."

Before Ulquiorra could ask who the newest Arrancar was, or beg his master some more to reconsider, he felt Aizen-sama turn his Spiritual Pressure all the way up. Ulquiorra's green eyes rolled back into his head from the physical pressure of it, of his master's power, and he slumped to the ground.

The last thing he saw was a feminine shoe before him, a pale wisp of a girl with a white circlet.

Then the darkness from Aizen-sama's power pulled him under.

My fluff skills :'D They have come so far ... Yay

Okay, so head on over to moonlightrurouni's, which is called "Cursed to Forget." And remember, reviews are dearly loved!

See you guys later!