A/N: So... this is a strange way to lose my bleach fic virginity... UlquiHime is my OTP, but after re-reading the Nnoitora segment, TeslaHime really grew on me... It's a lot like Nnoitora and Neliel, though I hope it won't end the same way... -__- These drabbles may or may not connect, and will be updated whenever I feel like TeslaHime.

About this one: I don't really know where it's set. It's AU to an extent, obviously. I guess you can just imagine the rest...

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Midnight Oil

He'd seen it every night the past week. As much as it annoyed him, Tesla couldn't help but to lay there and watch the soft light coming from the tower room until his eyelid dropped and he fell asleep. The next morning when he arose, the light was gone, but he somehow knew she was still working. Working on... whatever it was she did up there that consumed her time so voraciously. To him, it seemed sufficient proof that women really were foolish and inferior. After all, if she was going to do something productive, she'd be training to increase her strength, not loafing about. He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that urged him to find out what she was up to, maybe even to see if she was alright. Tesla quashed the thought- as if he'd ever be caught worrying over a woman! Eventually, she'd come down from her tower room and back into his daily life, filling in the cracks of time he wasn't with Nnoitora-sama like a smiling, obnoxious putty. He'd been around forever before she waltzed into his life...

So why did this short time without her seem even longer? A frown crossed Tesla's features, and he ran a gloved finger through his scruffy hair, making it even wavier than before. His single brown eye scanned the empty hallway cautiously, affirming that he was indeed, alone. Slowly, almost reluctantly, his gaze shifted out the window and up to the tower. Sure enough, the light was there, surrounding her balcony with a golden halo and casting shadows on the wall. He stood there for some time, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other hanging listlessly at his side. Tesla turned again to check the hallway before quietly, almost tiptoeing, setting off in the general direction of the woman's room. He took detours, he waited at random places, he stopped by windowsills. But at each one, that light was shining at him, seemingly blown in by the night air.

At last, he stood outside her door. No noise came from within. He considered knocking for a brief moment, then shook his head, trying to ignore the obnoxious blush rising on his cheeks. Turning the knob slowly, Tesla entered the room... And felt the blush on his cheeks triumph and spread all over his face. There she was, sitting on a crude workbench, arms pillowing her head, orange hair caressing the table, eyes closed delicately. Cautiously, he approached the sleeping woman, telling himself with every step that he just wanted to see what had been preoccupying her. He had absolutely no interest in the way her eyelashes curled like that, how he desperately wanted to take off his gloves and touch her face, or the overwhelming need to taste her lips, slightly parted... Tesla leaned over the table, deliberately avoiding any contact with her. Papers were strewn about, ones written all over in tiny script that he vaguely recognized as Szayel Aporro's. All the documents were related to eyes and visual structures, each with precise diagrams of knowledge the Octava Espada had gleaned from his experiments. It came to him in that split second; what she'd been doing. He didn't know how he knew, or why she wold do such a thing, but it appeared as if she was intent on doing it anyways.

She was making him a new eye. Tesla's hand traveled up to his eyepatch, running his fingers over the cloth that covered scarred and empty tissue. Utterly despite himself, he was flattered... no, amazed that she'd do something like this for someone she hardly knew. He glanced back at her sleeping face, so delicate and crumpled. She had long since burned her midnight oil, and he realized now that everything about her looked utterly spent. No one was in the room, but again, he looked around cautiously before he moved again. Doing his best to be gentle and not awaken the sleeping girl (he didn't want to wake her up, she'd never shut up if he did.), Tesla picked her up and carried her over to the small bed in the corner of the room. With some difficulty, he managed to pull back the covers and set her down on the mattress. He couldn't help but to watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, or the way her body relaxed, knowing that it was on a comfortable surface at last. The Arrancar stood there until he lost track of the time. Finally, hesitantly. he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. His lips lingered on her skin until he forced himself to pull away. Shaking his head to himself, he pulled the covers over her sleeping form and turned off the light at long last. It wasn't until he left the room that he could justify to himself that no one had seen him, and so no one would ever know.

The next morning, Orihime awoke with the feeling of Tesla's lips on her forehead.