Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor its characters.

It's a bit of a strange idea to be hit by, at the beginning of Winter while being sick with pneumonia... but I thought it would suffice.

My first Bleach fic, please be kind! That being said, any constructive criticism would be welcome.

Heatwave

By Tanya Lilac

It was official. Karakura town had been hit by what would go down in history as an "unseasonal heatwave". School had been cancelled, the beaches were inundated with people determined to attain the perfect tan, poolsides were flocked to and air conditioners and fans and air conditioning units had been used until they all but burned out.

Reports had put the cause of the heatwave down to an unseasonal "warm front" – but Rukia knew better – especially since Karakura town was the only location which experienced temperatures so high. As soon as Soul Society had heard of a Hollow powerful enough to completely alter the atmosphere of the physical world – and for such substantial geographic area – they'd been quick to send out Renji and Rukia before things got "too out of hand".

Upon arriving, she had immediately missed the cool breeze at her back - the last she would have for some time yet, it seemed. So far, they'd had little success – Renji had, despite the situation, become fixated upon ice cream and all of its wonders.

It was the third evening of the heatwave, and there seemed to be no signs of the Hollow – no indication that the scorching heat would break, leaving them with a warm Spring with cool nights.

"It's the beginning of Spring," Ichigo grumbled, wiping his forehead. "It shouldn't be this hot."

With a quiet sigh, she glanced over at Ichigo. He seemed to be taking the heat quite poorly, and had been irritable all day. Nightfall had brought no relief because the Hollow was nocturnal and the town felt like it had become more stifling – more so than the last few days. The air was still, and running around hunting Hollow had not helped, either, and none of them had gotten more than a few hours of sleep for the past two nights.

"Stop complaining," she snapped, a testament to the fact that the heat was bothering her as well. "The sooner we find this Hollow, the sooner things will get back to normal."

He was saved from having to respond by the ringing of her phone. "It's near," she murmured.

She jumped effortlessly off the roof and landed silently atop the next house, keeping her eyes trained upon the horizon. Ichigo surged ahead of her, like always. It was amazing how effortlessly things fell back into place every time she returned from Soul Society. She could never forget the way his eyes looked when he first saw her – shock, and then relief – and that more than made up for everything else.

"Rukia!"

The shinigami barely had time to react to Ichigo's warning before a Hollow swooped down out of the skies. Her phone slipped from her fingers and shattered upon the ground, far below her feet. She peered down at the fragments before sighing.

"Now look what you've done," she muttered, before dropping down to the floor to join Ichigo, who had already released Zangetsu. Within a matter of minutes, all surrounding Hollow had been completely obliterated, but Ichigo was now sporting a rather large bruise on the right side of his face.

Rukia sighed. "That's what you get for showing off, and not paying attention," she said quietly. She reached over to take a look at the mark, but Ichigo simply scowled and brushed her off.

"Already fighting, I see," Renji grinned down at the pair from a street lamp.

"Finally stopped eating ice-cream, I see," Rukia growled. "It's a wonder you can even run, let alone balance on that pole."

The red head shrugged, for once ignoring the jibe. "I think you two should go home and try and get some sleep. We won't get anywhere if you two are too tired to do anything tomorrow night. The rest of us can finish tonight's watch. We'll tell you if anything happens."

Ichigo sauntered off without a word, and Renji watched as Rukia's eyes followed him with concern. She was as attentive to the boy as ever, it seemed. He grinned when Rukia glanced up at him, and bade her goodnight before going to rejoin Ishida and Sado at Urahara's shop. Something told him it was going to be a long night, especially for those two.

It was late when they reached the clinic – everyone was asleep. Even though they had their own generator, Isshin had insisted that they do their best to conserve power, to the extent where Ichigo's fan had been confiscated, and the air conditioning remote hidden. The air was stuffy inside his room, and they both could not resist sighing as soon as they returned home. It didn't help much, but Ichigo left his window open.

Ichigo fell back onto his bed with a sigh and looked over at Rukia, looking slightly uncomfortable in her gigai. It was hard for her to ignore the heat, and she left him alone with his thoughts to have a shower. Ichigo had realised, quite recently, how often he found himself listening for her voice when she wasn't around. He had also noticed that he could never quite savour the moment where, after months, he heard her voice once again. As usual, it slipped through his fingers until all he had to remember her by was the deep cobalt of her eyes as she said farewell, to leave for yet another indefinite amount of time.

Turning his gaze away from the door, Ichigo stared out the window at the moon, a thin crescent of pearlescent silver in the sky. His head was throbbing – Rukia would look at it tomorrow – and his eyes were growing heavy. He dozed restlessly before waking up a few minutes later, bolting upright in his bed with a gasp. He checked his alarm clock, trying to comprehend that he had fallen asleep only an hour ago, but could not wrap his head around how much hotter it seemed to be. With a sigh, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it haphazardly onto the back of his chair and settled back down on top of the covers, taking in deep breaths. He looked over at the wardrobe door to find it shut, but the scent of Rukia's shampoo lingered in the air.

"Rukia," he called quietly. "Don't be ridiculous. Don't sleep in the wardrobe."

Her response was delayed, as if she'd been sleeping. He could tell that she had been just as restless as he – she wasn't impervious to the weather, even less so in this stupid heat. She knew he was tense, he'd been tossing and turning since she'd come back half an hour ago.

The door opened silently and as Rukia slipped off the shelf, Ichigo's throat went dry. He sat up and clapped a hand to his forehead, inadvertently brushing the bruise the Hollow had given him earlier. "Is there something wrong?" She asked quietly.

He sighed. "Why couldn't you have worn something other than my shirt?"

She would have looked almost comical – a slender shinigami, with hair that was still damp from her shower, wearing a white tee shirt that was approximately three sizes too large – except it barely covered half of her thighs, and clung to her body in all the right places.

"Well, I was unprepared for this heat! Last night and the night before, it wasn't so bad, but by the time we got back tonight, everyone was asleep – and you know how lightly Yuzu sleeps when it's hot. What else was I supposed to do? Wear nothing?"

The shirt slipped off her shoulder and Ichigo paled at her words.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" He asked irritably, and shifted over to make room for her.

"Are you... offering to let me sleep on your bed?"

He scowled and looked away, colour rising to artfully stain his cheeks.

"Ichigo?" Rukia took the four small steps that separated them every night, and frowned down at him, hands on her hips. Ichigo tried to hide his blush and she leant down, peeling his hand away from his face. "Hmmm... it's getting worse," she muttered, turning his face as she scrutinised him. "You seem uncomfortable. Why don't you take a cold shower?"

Ichigo almost died, but managed to come up with a suitable response after spluttering unintelligibly for a good five seconds. "How am I supposed to explain why I took two showers in one evening? The pipes are noisy, someone's bound to ask."

Rukia shrugged, and the shirt shifted some more. "They might not – why is it such a big deal?"

Ichigo groaned and fell back onto the covers, causing Rukia's eyes to shift from confusion to concern. She frowned for a moment before slipping out of the room, her footfalls making no sound upon the wooden floors. She returned a few minutes later with ice cubes wrapped in a tea towel.

"I don't know why you insist on always doing things the hard way," she muttered. She sat on the bed, and reached over his chest to gently press the ice to his bruise. Rukia found her gaze being drawn to his, and it was then he noticed how close they were. He could see the slight sheen of perspiration upon the soft skin of her neck and wondered how she had even managed breathing, let alone sleeping, in his closet in the first place.

"You shouldn't walk around the... the house," Ichigo said, his breaths quickening for a reason he couldn't quite fathom.

Rukia blinked, put off by the sudden comment and unconsciously licked her lips as she tried to find something to say. Ichigo's eyes were then drawn to her mouth, so often set in a grim, determined line that true smiles seemed rarer than his. He could feel her breaths upon his cheek, and the heat from her skin. The smell of her delicately scented soap clung to her. Her pupils were dilated, eyes almost feverishly bright in the wan light of the moon. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached up to trace her cheek with a hand that was surprisingly steady.

Her eyes widened with shock, and she dropped the tea towel as if it burned her, ice cubes tumbling onto the blanket. With a small smile, Ichigo leaned forward and captured her lips, sliding his hand into her damp hair. Rukia settled on the bed beside him, placing a soft hand upon his cheek as she pulled away, much to his disappointment. She picked up a melting ice cube and slid it across his cheeks, smiling as he winced when it touched his bruise. He shivered despite the heat as the ice slipped from his chin onto his collarbone, before making its way down to his chest. He flinched reflexively as her cold fingers danced across his skin, and she laughed quietly; a low, melodious sound. He bit his lip, suppressing a moan as her fingertips grazed the waistband of his shorts before rising to rest on his chest. She seemed to like having such effortless control over him, and knowing the effect she had upon the mad fluttering of his heart.

"Tease," he managed to whisper hoarsely.

She smiled deviously. "I haven't even kissed you yet."

"That's not quite... what I meant," he replied, and she chuckled, her breath hot against him.

He pulled her closer to him, revelling in the feel of her skin. Ichigo met her eyes once again, and it seemed she was thinking about the same thing – how long he had dreamed of holding her like this; to be able to know that she, the woman who changed his world, wanted him. With a sigh, Rukia planted soft kisses upon his jaw. Ichigo threaded his fingers through her hair once again and she stopped to look up at him and, with a small smile, kissed him, far less chastely than before.

When they broke away for air, finding difficulty breathing in the heat, Ichigo smiled as he studied her once again. Her (his) shirt was rumpled and shorter than ever, one of her legs entangled with his, while the other hooked over his waist, pulling her flush against his skin. Her arms were draped loosely about his neck, toying with the strands of bright hair with slender fingers. Her lips were swollen and her hair was plastered to her neck and cheeks, which were flushed with colour. Her violet eyes sparkled with desire, and he was sure the expression was mirrored in his face.

He kissed her once more before moving to her neck, and smiled at the feel of her fluttering pulse beneath her skin. Rukia gasped as an ice cube brushed against her thigh, yet could not call forth enough anger to glare at him. His mouth left the hollow of her throat and he smirked at her, before his hand inched up her body, pushing the flimsy shirt upwards with it. She growled in frustration as his hand skimmed lightly over the curve of her slim hips. Up, and up... his hand found the curve of her left breast and she sighed, arching her back to lean into his touch.

"Ichigo..." she whispered, need thrumming through every syllable.

He moved away from her, leaving every nerve burning with anticipation. She cried out when the ice cube was replaced with a reverent kiss, and Ichigo marvelled at how sensitive she was. Her quiet, breathy moans filled the room as his kisses wound up her body, and -

Ichigo, for the second time that night, shot up in bed, panting.

Rukia looked up at him from the pillows, her brow furrowed with annoyance. "What are you doing? I'm trying to sleep, and you keep on tossing and turning! Just when I was starting to doze off, you jolted awake like you remembered we had a test tomorrow and scared me half to death!"

Ichigo sighed and pressed the cold tea towel to his bruise and, as he watched her settle back down, he knew that getting any kind of sleep tonight would be impossible.

*****

"Ichi-nii!"

Neither Ichigo nor Rukia acknowledged the sound of Yuzu's voice as she came dancing into his room on light feet.

"Rukia-chan isn't-"

She froze. Rukia was lying in the bed with Ichigo, with her back to the door. She could only see a bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the covers, but that was more than enough. Ichigo wasn't wearing a shirt, but he looked more at peace than she'd seen him in a long time, his face free of the scowl she was so used to. Their legs, intertwined...

With a gasp, she clapped both hands over her eyes and ran from the room.

Ichigo woke slowly, trying to remember the last time he'd slept with a toy in the bed. In a panic, his eyes flew open to find Rukia, not Kon, in his arms. She stirred against the light morning chill, and murmured as she burrowed deeper into his arms, trying to steal more of his warmth. Her neck was covered in gooseflesh, his shirt was still sliding off her shoulder and her hair was tousled against her pale skin. He'd never seen her like this – she was normally ready and dressed by the time he brought her breakfast – and he had to say it made a most welcome change to the usually stern shinigami.

"Ichigo?" Her voice was husky with sleep, and he couldn't help but smirk. "Shut the window. It's too cold."

Cold. How strange. Why were they sleeping under the covers, anyway?

Realisation dawned for the both of them, and Rukia's eyes fluttered open, beginning her morning with the not too unpleasant sight of a shirtless Ichigo. The sunlight streamed in behind him, catching the colour of his hair with a feverish energy.

"That bruise looks terrible," she muttered, and he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "What?"

He smirked. "You don't look so pretty yourself."

Rukia glared at him, and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers through her locks and shook out the minute tangles, and Ichigo found himself awash in the scent of her hair. It would linger in his sheets for days.

She sighed. "I guess this means that they took care of the Hollow last night."

"They didn't wake us?"

Rukia blinked. "I broke my phone – how could they have contacted us?"

Ichigo stretched and laced his fingers beneath his head. "It doesn't matter. The Hollow is gone, the heatwave broke and it's Saturday." He turned to face her. "Admit it, you like sleeping in on Saturday mornings."

He reached over wordlessly and stroked the inside of her forearm, watching the way she seemed to lean into his touch. She tilted her head to the side with a soft sigh, and almost gave into temptation to go back to bed. However, there were more pressing issues. "Wasn't... Yuzu in here before?" she asked, the words forming with much difficulty.

Ichigo was slow to reply, having to fight off images of his dreams of the previous night – especially since that quiet sigh had sounded exactly the same (it was kind of frightening how accurately he had imagined that). He paled when her words sunk in. "We have to have breakfast with them, don't we?"

Rukia turned to look at him, ignoring the funny jolt in her chest as he said, 'we'. "Who said anything about 'we'? I thought it would just be you."

"No, we have to have breakfast with them because Yuzu saw you. Besides, while you're living in my house, Yuzu expects everyone to eat together as much as we can." He stood and opened the wardrobe door. "Now, please put on some clothes before my family assumes the worst."

Rukia sighed and took off her shirt. Ichigo was frozen for two seconds (the time it took for her to lift the shirt up past her navel – and she was only wearing a pair of underwear. Why did she insist on torturing him like this!?) turned away, and she draped the shirt over his head before climbing into the wardrobe. "I swear, Ichigo..."