The bass pounded in her ears as she moved through the crowd, a hand on her wrist trying to escort her through the maze of people. She stepped on a foot (Sorry!) bumped into half a dozen backs and arms, all the while managing to hear seemingly muted bits of conversation. The tight grasp on her wrist pulled her towards a corner of the club, furthest from the obnoxiously loud music and the heavy beating in her ears eased slightly. (I knew I wasn't going to like coming here…)

"Honestly Rangiku, why did you bring me here again?" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Shut up Nanao, don't complain. You agreed that you would come out with me if I helped you with work first, so I helped, and now we're out. That was the part of our deal Nanao, so enjoy yourself damn it! Help me find a guy tonight, and then you're done." said the busty blonde.

Her eyebrow twitched in an evil glare that was enough to set Rangiku on fire if it could, but she kept it hidden in the shadows. (Absolutely absurd. This is never happening again.) Instead, she merely adjusted her watch, noting the time, and flicked a piece of hair behind her ear. She turned into the corner while Rangiku set to eye the crowd as if looking for a piece of meat. (She may as well be looking for meat, the way she's acting.)

Nanao noticed her appearance in a full length mirror that adorned the wall, glancing quickly over her thin form. She smoothed out her shirt over her tight stomach, her fingers dragging the corners of the black material to a suitable place over her gently curved hips. An invisible piece of lint dotted the dark colored jeans that showed off her long legs and she picked it off. When she made sure her appearance was once again pristine, she turned back to Rangiku who seemed to have found a playmate.

She stared at Rangiku and the man behind her, holding her – no – vague words popped into Nanao's mind that properly described him pretty much fucking her on the dance floor instead. She tried to mouth something to Rangiku, but found it a futile effort. She was paying way too much attention to the man behind her and his hands. Rolling her eyes, Nanao casually walked away from the pair who were now dancing so close they seemed to be one person with extra pairs of limbs. (At least wait until I'm gone before you start humping him at least…)

Holding the cool glass to the temple of his head, he sighed rather exaggeratedly, peering to his left. A young girl some ways down the bar gave him the kind of look that usually sent him running her way, but instead he looked away. (This club blows… it's the same damn thing every time I come here. Same chicks, same songs, same damn drinks even.) He turned around on the bar, staring out into the mass of people and he sighed again.

"Taking in the sights or are you seeking out your next victim Shunsui?" came a voice to his right.

A white-haired man in a half suit, half jeans outfit leaned on the bar next to him, holding two drinks. Placing one down on the bar, he took a sip of his, still keeping eye contact with Shunsui.

"Tch. Neither. It's the same thing everyday Jyushirou. I'm really starting to get sick of it." He stated within ear-shot of his friend.

"What, you? Getting sick of picking out girl after girl? Really, that's not like you."

"You know, it used to be fun. I don't know… I just want something… interesting."

The white-haired man took another sip of his drink, "Interesting? What do you mean interesting? Don't you think that girl you had last week wasn't interesting? Hello? You awake buddy?"

But the other side of Jyushirou's conversation was cut off. Shunsui was staring at something with a pointed gaze, unflinching. Jyuushirou tried to find what it was that his friend had suddenly become hooked on – and there it was. She had an air about her, a presence, even within such a crowd of moving bodies. She seemed to be walking in slow motion; every muscle movement was careful, graceful even. Her body was poised as if ready for something to suddenly attack her. But her eyes; yes it was her indigo eyes that gave her power, that made her captivating. And she wasn't even looking at Shunsui.

"I've gotta go." Said the brunette, handing his drink over to his friend and instantly flying out into the crowd.

"But Shun -- !" was all Jyuushirou could manage before his friend disappeared into the crowd, following after the indigo-eyed woman.

She had just about reached the exit to the club when her wrist was suddenly snatched again.

"Rangiku. You were with him for five minutes and—" realization hit her. (This is certainly not Rangiku's hand around my wrist. It's far too large to be hers. And far too warm.) Nanao promptly turned around to see who had stopped her midway to the exit. When she turned around, she did not expect to have to look up so far to see the face of the man, but he was big. Huge even. Her eye level only came to his pectorals. His very well defined pectorals. Even under a black button down and loosened white tie, she could tell. Her gaze went slowly up the rest of his body, taking in his toned arms, thick neck, slightly dimpled chin and full lips. But it was when she came in contact with his eyes, dark earthen eyes, which made her stop.

She knew she was staring, not just looking; full on staring. She must have looked ridiculous to him, looking straight into his eyes like this, so deeply. His eyes too were staring so intently back into hers. It took her entirely too long to notice that his hand was still around her wrist, and that his thumb was absent-mindedly stroking the soft skin of her arm. It was when she felt his thumb dip down into her palm that her revelry was broken and she snapped out of her trance. She retracted her arm from his grasp but in retaliation he took a step forward.

"Wait." He said.

She looked back up into his eyes, this time pensive about his actions. Why had he stopped her? Why was he looking at her like this? Like he had seen her before, or as if she had meant something to him?

"Well?" she replied finally after getting another good look into his eyes.

He breathed carefully, almost cautiously, as if he would blow her away or scare her were he to make any sudden moves.

"I'm sorry, I saw you walking through the crowd and I couldn't help but notice…" he trailed off, looking back into her eyes again.

If she had to be honest, it felt like he was trying to penetrate her eyes, like he was mesmerized by them. The normally creepy feeling she would get from that didn't arise; for some reason staring back into his eyes were comforting.

"Notice… what?" she asked barely above the noise of the music still blaring around them, changing into a slower, more danceable rhythm.

He noticed. "Would you care to dance?" he asked, changing the subject.

(Say no.) "Yes."

"Not right here, let me lead you."

(Absolutely not.) "Okay."

And he took her wrist again, lighter than before, leading her deftly through the crowd, without losing her at all, toward another corner of the club that was darker than all the others. There were still people about, but they were all too preoccupied with what they were doing themselves that they didn't notice the tall built man and petite woman join their ranks.

He pulled her close, and she could immediately feel the heat coming off of him in waves. Her brain was screaming at her, telling her that he was way too close; that she should be backing away, and that he was a stranger. But another part of her, a more feral part, that was slowly killing off her brain, stealing its capacity to think, to react, was taking over. It was telling her that his scent was too good to resist, his warmth too hard to back away from, and his powerful arms should wrap themselves around her. She wanted to feel his body, the firm muscles and warm skin pull her down into a spiral that she would never find her way out of.

It started with a quick turn, she didn't face him, but he pulled her against him, her back to his front, and she moved; somehow she knew the steps to this rhythm and he responded in kind to her. His hands were confident and controlled against her hips and his body moved in time to hers. She controlled the pace, the moves, the want in her body, and how he would react if she decided to move things faster. God, where was this confidence coming from? She had never been able to move like this before… Her hips swayed against his, pushing left and right, moving rhythmically with the beat, but slower. As if time were cut in half by how sensually she wanted this to be taken. She became aware of how her body was so close to his, wanting to melt into his with every fiber of her being.

She pressed herself wholly into him, feeling the heat from his body soak into her back and her hands slide carefully, slowly down his forearms. It was like a switch, telling him to move, telling him it was okay to play with her body, to make her respond as she was telling him she wanted. It was when those large, heated hands moved forward from her hips to the barest inside of her thighs that her head fell back against his chest wanting more of that sensation.

He leaned over her, breathing lightly onto the back of her neck and she shivered, her hips suddenly thrusting back into him, arching her back the smallest of degrees. It nearly undid him, the way she moved against him; and his lips hovered above the skin of her neck, just breathing onto it to make her do that again. She stayed arched slightly, but slid down his body with a torturous degree, only to rise again with the same pace. His hands responded to her actions by pulling her hips directly into his front, pulling her against the need that was slowly rising.

In normal cases, she would have run away screaming. She would have turned, slapped him, and stalked off.

But this… this was not a normal case.

She groaned. Loudly. When she did, his lips connected with her neck and he licked at it, tasting her sweat and the flavor of her body. She was like honey and so many sweet things he couldn't even try to place.

He kissed a path lightly up her neck, all the while using his tongue to taste her skin. He could feel her surrendering to the sensations he was sending through her body; her muscles were relaxing as his hands slowly made their way toward the inside of her thighs, circling their way higher towards the apex, and her head continued to fall back as he kissed his way towards her ear.

When he found the lobe, he drew it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly, eliciting a beautiful low moan from her mouth.

How he wanted to taste that mouth.

It all happened way too fast. The flurry of the spin and the whisking away towards another dark corner of the club where there were no people to be found. Feeling a solid wall pressed against her back, and the mysterious man pressed at her front, his mouth on hers, his hands finding their way up and down her body, memorizing exactly every place that urged a reaction from her body. It all felt so good.

And did her mouth taste delicious. Her body felt like satin.

They wanted more.

She could feel her jeans peeling from her body, her shirt crawl up her frame and the wind telling her it had been removed.

He could feel her taut body against his rough skin, his muscles ached as he felt her grip against his arms as he hoisted her up the wall. He was palming her beautiful ass, and her strong, silky thighs were wrapping themselves around his waist, drawing around him, pressing him into her.

She was gasping against his mouth, feeling him slide so deftly inside her body, groaning at the contact between them.

Neither one of them could tell if it was the beat of the music that picked up, or their actions. But it didn't matter. It felt too good. They still couldn't tell if it was the music that had drawn to its highest back down, and then high again, or if it was them. But even still, they had to have more…

She blinked, and the vision of the two of them was gone. She glanced away from him for a moment, absently searching for something to make her look away from his piercing gaze. (I can't believe I just thought about that, and so vividly no less.)

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She didn't answer, merely looked back at him still blinking wildly, trying to get the recent vision out of her head.

"Would you like to sit down?"

She nodded in assent and he took her wrist again, lighter than before, but not nearly as intimately. He had almost scared her to death before.

(What the hell was that? What the hell just went through my head? That was the most absurd, ridiculous, impossible scenario that could have ever – )

"Can I get you a drink first?"

"I – uh – gin and tonic." She replied.

She still couldn't snap out of it. Who was this man, and why in the hell was she thinking so hotly about sex at a time like this?! God she was starting to feel woozy. And she was about to have a drink. Oh, she was screwed.

A cool glass was pressed to her palm as she was led away again from the bar, the music slowly fading the further away from the main dance floor they went. They finally met in a dark set room, a few tables and chairs occupied by various club goers trying to seek solace from the pounding music. Her mysterious companion led her to a vacant table, and sat her down.

Still delirious. Nanao was still delirious, and she couldn't figure out what possessed her to sit down with a complete stranger when she should really be making sure that Rangiku was okay. (The blonde could probably fend for herself though, she may have looked easy, but she could put up one hell of a fight.)

"Good choice." She heard distantly.

"What?"

"In drink, good choice. For a woman of your quality of course." She heard from him. His voice had a smooth timbre to it, she could finally pick it out. It was beautiful really, relaxing. Like a narrator's voice, one you wouldn't want to stop listening to.

"And you would know my quality… how?" she retorted, begging to hear more of his voice when it was still a little hard to see back into those deep dark eyes of his.

"Character trait I have. Have always been able to tell a lot about a person just by seeing into their eyes." He said, looking away and then back, grinning from what she could tell.

Another quick quip, "And what is it you see exactly? I'm more complicated than you think."

He sipped his drink and chuckled lowly, "Ah, but that's just it, you're not that complicated. You're interesting. There's a difference. Complicated brings on problems, trouble, frustration. No, interesting is a whole other playing field. Interesting means a puzzle, one that I'm still working out as I talk to you."

"I've said a total of four sentences to you. There's no way you've gotten it down that quickly." She said, an attempt at defeating him. For what score though?

"True, but I have gotten you here haven't I? It's a start. I plan on finishing. So stay a while." He replied, inching his chair closer to her.

(What is he trying to get at? And why do I feel like this is some sort of weird mind game?)

"I'm sorry, I don't intend on playing games with you. I don't even know you, so why should I stay?" she made to get up, but she felt his hand on her wrist and she froze. Looking back down at him, she could see those eyes of his more properly this time.

"Because you want to know me. When I stopped you, you stared back at me. I think you're playing the same game I am, only you don't know it yet." His eyes glowed, the light from the candle at their table making light reflect off those golden browns.

She made to retort, her mouth open, but no sound would come out. She sighed, "You win. A few more minutes. I should at least finish my drink, it is only appropriate to do so." (Way to sound like a dork, Ise.)

He smirked, what else had she let on to him? My God, every move she was making was giving her away.

"Don't let it twist your arm, it was more of a kind gesture than anything. If I was to say to you 'I just want to talk to you', you would have never gone for it. But I agree, what manners would those be if you left a full glass at a table with a stranger who bought it for you? And where exactly are my manners?"

He extended a hand to her, "Kyouraku Shunsui."

She accepted it, replying in kind, "Ise, Nanao."

He nodded, noting her firm grip and soft hand that he held in his palm.

"You are correct, sir, those would be unkind manners. I don't intend to break habits so easily. However, if you had been a creep, I might have just broken them." She withdrew her hand from his warm grasp, contrasting it with the cold glass cold alcohol and took a sip.

"Thank goodness I'm no creep. Just a curious man, curiously searching for curious things."

Her brow knit together. (What an unusual man.)

"So what do curious men of that caliber do? Speaking professionally of course." She quickly added in the last part. God only knows what this man was thinking.

His wandering eyes found hers again and stared for a moment before replying. "Architecture. I must admit, it causes me to be curious about far too many things. The profession is full of ponderous people. Our brains just never shut off, even when we're out in public. The studio bay cannot hold back our quest for knowledge."

She nodded in assent, "Understandable. I knew of quite a few of them in college. They always did have an interesting look on life, even the laid back ones. They are all night owls from what I understand as well, what with renderings and massive plots to set up. Though I am far from being a night owl myself."

(Personal interjection. I really need to not do that.)

"And I assume it is your profession that doesn't allow you to play at night?" he inquired.

She huffed a little, the innuendo apparent, "Hardly. I'm just not a morning person, therefore my nights are usually cut short."

"Shame." He replied, a grin working its way to his face.

Nanao blushed, what had gotten in to her that she was playing into his hands like this? She usually kept her wits about herself. She was going to have to be careful.

"You never answered my question." He began again.

"I'm sorry, about what?" she was coming back now.

"About what you do. Perhaps if you tell me what it is that you do, I can find another piece to the puzzle." He had that damned grin on his face again, it was irritating her and strangely mesmerizing.

"What, you can't guess?" now she could play this game, good beginning.

"Ah, well played, now allow me three guesses. At first glance, any bone-head would possibly say Business because it seems that what anyone in this city has as a profession. I would hardly guess that, and being an Accountant would not seem your forte. Too trivial for you – you can run the numbers in your sleep and it would be far beneath you." He posited.

"Is that a guess? Strike one." She kicked up a tiny smile, now she was going to goad him on.

"Oh ho, playing hardball? Alright, another go. Given what kind of a club we're in, and the way you've dressed yourself, I would say you're not of the club scene typically. Please, don't find my speculation as offensive, for I find what you've worn is quite attractive, but you are not of the overly vivacious type. I would say a profession of moderate tranquility, one that is of a conservative nature. The way you're reading so far into this conversation, thinking about the next move I'm going to make… I would venture as far as to say Law."

That solicited another smirk from her, "I don't find your speculation offensive, you are correct. I don't enjoy the club scene. I only came here on request of my friend. She was in need to prowl, and I was to play her 'wingwoman' so to speak. But I am supposed to drag her away when the night is over."

"I'm sure she will be just fine. And I doubt that I am right in my suggestion, I feel as though I'm making a stab in the dark." He took another sip form his drink, rattling the ice in the glass just slightly.

"Strike two. And I'm almost done with my drink." She was going to put the pressure on. Let's see how he reacts to that.

His brow rose a bit in amusement, and that grin came right back.

"Well then, best guess I can make then is that you are also an Architect. Very few people even know what a plot is, and even fewer about architects and renderings. You also seem to be very at ease with the fact that I am analyzing just about every single thing that has occurred up to this point. Most other people would be annoyed at the level of detail with which I'm going into. Only another architect could either appreciate or tolerate it." He took another sip, staring at her the whole time.

"You knew. You didn't even need to guess the other two times. How? Because those were some pretty lame excuses right there." She retorted, also sipping from her glass. She cringed a little as she swallowed, the alcohol settling at the bottom of the glass.

"I agree, fairly lame reasons. It was your name actually. You're in one of the more prominent firms in the city. Architects know other architects. Thought I can't say the same for you. But I tend to stay behind the scenes, so I forgive you." He was jabbing a little at her now, but she was at ease with it. It was just too amusing now.

"Fine. Well, I'm glad it doesn't offend you. But you still haven't figured me out. At least I don't see how you could have."

Just as she finished her glass, the lights in the club began to rise. (Must be 2AM.)

"You're right, but that only gives me more reason to see you again. And seeing as how it's last call, we will both either walk away from each other, or I will walk away with your number and a smile."

His forwardness was actually charming. How was that possible? She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him a series of carefully constructed words that would hopefully get him to follow the first of his own suggestions, but fate had shitty timing.

"NANAO! Are you ready to – ooooo, who are you Hunky?!"

She could feel her eyebrow twitching. She knew she was going to kill Rangiku. Thank God this man could hold his own.

"A pleasure, my name is Shunsui. Forgive me, I seem to have stolen your friend here, and she was just about to give me her number."

Nanao's eyes and ears perked up at the statement, and she stared at him with a glare that could have gone right through him if her eyes were lasers.

"Ooooo, I've got it right here! Hang on." Rangiku. Was. Dead. Meat.

Nanao stood, gathering up next to Rangiku attempting to whisper something in her hear when she was pushed away by the buxom blonde. "Oh stop being such a baby Nanao. Here, make sure you call her, and I'll make sure she picks up. She's totally worth it." And she flashed Shunsui a smile, handing him a post-it.

He smiled in return, taking the paper and thanked her.

"Until next time, Nanao. Have a good evening ladies." He was gone in the blink of an eye with the rest of the crowd headed out the door.

"Now that was quite a score – you'd better pick up if he calls." Rangiku began, turning to face Nanao.

"Absolutely not. He was so strange. We're never coming here again. Oh, and I'm going to kill you." Nanao ground out.

"Oh come on, lighten up. Sheesh. Let's go home, I'm beat." Rangiku said with a stretch.

Nanao followed after her friend, turning only slightly to look back to where Shunsui had left them.