[Log]Toushirou, Rangiku
Title: It's the Thought that Counts
Characters: Toushirou (davyn), Rangiku (kellenanne)
Timeline: October 9, 2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Rangiku found him the perfect gift...
There was something to be said for sales; Rangiku suddenly had every excuse in the world handy for buying whatever she wanted. And if she wanted to buy something for someone else, so much the better. Of course, in buying Toushirou something, it was the delivery she had to think about. He wouldn't accept it unless she caught him off-guard. She had put a lot of thought into timing this thing just right.
She wasn't going to knock on his door, either. That just gave him time to prepare himself. And that was why she had a key. She grinned and adjusted her grip on the box she carried. Sure the box was kind of small and flimsy, but it had a pretty green striped design, and the shirt inside was to die for. She couldn't wait to see Toushirou in it. She held no delusions though of him trying it on while she was there; oh, she'd needle him about it, but ultimately? He'd grump and grouse and then, hopefully, she'd see him show up at the Ash Cat wearing it a few days later.
She opened his door quietly, peering around it and shaking her head. Totally dark. He really wasn't expecting her. She hoped he was home. She crept toward the kitchen and turned on that light - if he was in his bedroom or something, that light wouldn't disturb him - before closing the door quietly. The key was pocketed and she patted that pocket, grinning.
Definitely came in handy.
Now... where was that crazy little man?
There was something to be said about late nights. Only the truly insane, or dedicated, worked the late shifts. Even he wasn't sure why had thought working that one was a good idea. It wasn't part of his job description. He would never, ever, say it out loud - not even once - but thank god for weekends and mornings where he actually got to pretend he could sleep for an extra hour or to. This morning was no exception to that.
He was fully determined to remain stead fast in his ignorance of the clock on his nightstand. It was Sunday, he had worked all night. He was going to sleep past eight or his name was not Toushirou.
That was just how it was going to be.
Rangiku peeked into the bedroom, box still in hand, and grinned. Still in bed was he? Oh, God, but this was too good. Way too good. He must have worked late or something; she'd never known him to sleep past dawn. He was a crazy workaholic.
She paused for just one second, situating herself so she could jump back behind the door in no time flat. She didn't want shot.
Deep breath. This was gonna be good.
"Yo! Toushirou!"
His eyes snapped open, his hand curled around the gun he kept under his pillow and then he was sitting upright, gun cocked and pointed at his bedroom door. All in one motion she was practically inviting herself to be shot with that hollering.
…how did she get in? He was pretty sure he had confiscated his key the last time she had pulled this stunt. Check that, how had he not heard her? He blinked at the door trying to focus his attention. God he was tired.
Then it hit him that she had broken into his house (again) and had woken him from his sleep. His eyes narrowed to slits and he just managed to keep from growling at her. It was to damn early to even be considering anything but going right back to sleep. Immediately. Damn woman. Damn irritating, annoying, frustrating, woman. He had - a quick glance at the clock - three hours of sleep and here she was sneaking into his apartment asking to be shot.
He was not in the mood.
"Out."
Yep. She knew that would happen and that's why she was behind the door. She shook her head and peeked around the corner.
"But I brought you something!" She shook the box. "C'mon, sleepyhead. Up and at 'em!"
Sleepy head? Up and at em? Who the hell did she think she was? His mother? The soft sound of his gun's safety clicking back on filled the room and he glared at the door, setting his gun carefully on his leg and reaching up with his free hand to push his hair out of his face. It also covered his yawn, but he wasn't keeping score here. Not yet anyway.
"Out," he repeated. God he was much too tired to deal with anyone but especially her.
God... if she tried to cook him breakfast he really was going to shoot her.
Rangiku's features melted into a little relieved smile when she heard the click of the gun's safety. That meant the immediate danger of being shot was past. He probably hadn't put the thing away yet, but... Well, hell, he wouldn't shoot her! She was... She was Rangiku!
"Nope," she answered, leaning around the door. "Gotcha something."
Well, wasn't he just cute fresh out of bed? All that tousled hair, shirtless, and yawning? It was a wonder he kept waking up alone.
Then again... it was Toushirou and he wasn't known for... well, for anything pleasant.
He stared at the wall blankly. She... got him something. He grimaced, the last time she said that he had up ended up emptying his stomach into his toilet for two days.
"Don't want it."
That was nice and blunt wasn't it? What he wanted was sleep, lots of sleep, more than he had gotten last night and what happened? She walked in while he was sleeping and started telling about how him she got him something.
Like hell he was answering that with politeness.
Nasty little bugger. Completely rude. Absolutely and totally one of the crankiest, meanest little men in New York. On the planet, perhaps. She wouldn't put it past him to be the crankiest person on earth.
She still didn't know why she hung around with him, the idiot little man. Maybe it was those artful little pouts.
Speaking of... She pouted, peering around the door with big eyes. "You haven't even seen it yet."
He yawned, a jaw cracking yawn that had him covering his mouth out of habit (not because he felt like being polite) and then leveling her with a glare out of his half slitted eyes. He was confiscating that key and then he was throwing her out by all that hair.
"I am sleeping." And he was going back to sleep to. Was she blind? Surely not, couldn't the damn irritating woman see that he was trying to sleep? He was in his bed, with the sheets up to his waist. What more did she need as a sign? To be struck by lightning? That would teach her to wake him up certainly.
She stared at him. He obviously needed prodded. She might risk getting shot - damn but he was cranky in the morning - but she stalked through the doorway and propped a hand on her hip.
"Look awake to me."
He stared at her and flopped back on his bed, pulling a pillow over his head. He looked awake? If she would shut up and give him two minutes he could change that, hell at this point he was pretty certain he could sleep with a freaking firing squad in his living room, much less her. He would be fine, would just ignore her presence.
He was the one with the gun after all.
Personable, wasn't he? Rangiku rolled her eyes before leaning forward and plucking the pillow off his head.
"You are such a child sometimes, Captain." Didn't he know that made him almost too damn cute for words?
He cracked an eye at her, fingers carefully prodding the bed for the other pillow. He found it with a grunt and pulled it towards him. "My apartment," he told her, he was going to ignore her after this, really. "Can do what I want."
Which right then was sleeping.
She snorted, pillow dangling from one hand.
"My gift, which means I can do whatever the hell it takes to make you take it."
Ingrate.
She wasn't going to go away until he looked at the damn thing was she? He managed to get his extra pillow under his head and scowled at her. "Will it make you go away?"
Surely she could tell that he wasn't in the mood for this? Or maybe not, she was rather blond wasn't she? He sighed and sat up again, all the while glowering at her. This was her fault, like hell he was going to be polite.
He was not in the mood.
Rangiku put on a good show of thinking that one over. Will it make her go away? Certainly a good question. Absolutely valid, if one were a cranky midget. She, on the other hand, was not a cranky midget and therefore the question simply did not apply to her. She tapped her chin, eying him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Eventually," she announced.
She sashayed over to the bed and sat at his feet, going so far as to curl her legs under her and setting the box on her lap. She was getting comfortable and he couldn't do a thing about it.
Oh, would it burn him. She grinned and tapped the top of the garment box.
He just kept right on staring at her. She wanted him to open that box? Like hell he was going to open that box. He did not have to agree to this, he could be as difficult as possible and he was going to be very difficult.
"Now."
She could leave the box and leave. He could appreciate that. In fact, he would appreciate that. She should take a hint.
Rangiku blinked at him, grin held in place only through sheer determination. Damn childish midget; he was being difficult. She patted the box lid and gave him a withering glance. Not only was he childish, he was ungrateful. Mean. She shouldn't have brought him a damn thing.
"Ingrate," she accused. (And she was right. She always was.) "I went through the trouble of shopping for you, buying this for you, picking it out, thinking of you... and you won't even open the box."
Toushirou stared at her. "I am not," he said forcefully, "an ingrate." She wanted him to what? Fall face down on the ground and thank her for her most excellent taste and thoughtfulness? He scowled and crossed his arms.
"Fine." If opening that damn box would be what would get her out of his room and off his bed then he would open the damn box. Never let it be said he didn't do anything for her!
He held out a hand so that she could put that damn box in it. She was full of nerve wasn't she? Calling him an ingrate because he wouldn't open a box when she said to, what kind of a psycho path was she? Damn, irritating woman. She should know better than to interrupt his sleep after a full night of work.
Rangiku grinned when he gave in and clapped her hands once in glee. She shifted position, both making herself more comfortable and leaning closer to Toushirou - she wanted to see his face when he opened the box. (And he had a damn fine bed. Soft. Cushy. Full of thick blankets. She just wanted to curl up in those blankets and just lounge the day away. One day, she would. It wasn't like the captain was actually getting to really enjoy the bed. Shame, that. Really. He was too cute - and had too nice a bed - for it to go to waste. Then again, didn't always need a bed... She raised an eyebrow. Somehow, she didn't seem proper, straight laced Toushirou going for a quickie in a closet or something... but then again... Interesting. She'd have to investigate this one.)
Still grinning - and thinking thoughts that would have had him turning a bright, bright red - she handed the box over and leaned forward, chin resting in her hands.
Toushirou eyed her, carefully. She was far to excited about the prospect of this 'present'. God, no matter how big that box was knowing his luck it would be something like a giant sex swing or something, he repressed that thought rather quickly. After all he was never, ever, ever, thinking about that particular crime ever again.
He sighed. She was excited, entirely too perky, and he should have been throwing her out of his apartment without thinking twice about it. Instead… he was opening her damn present.
If it was a sex swing (and because she was so damn excited about it he was not going to rule it out completely) then he really was going to shoot her. He could write it off as self-defense. 'Attacked by giant boobs while peacefully sleeping', he could make it work.
He glanced at her (in warning) one more time and then pulled the lid off the box and… blinked. She bought him a shirt… why in gods name had she bought him that shirt. He glanced back up at her, slightly bewildered and fast moving towards grumpy. Surely she didn't expect him to wear that nonsense?
…she was that excited over a shirt?
She was going to ignore that look completely - that look that did nothing but broadcast how grumpy he was over the whole - simply because it was better off ignored. That, and she didn't want to deal with it. If she made the mistake of acknowledging his crankiness, she'd spent the rest of her life miserable, because he was always cranky.
"So?" she asked. Surely he'd have something to say about it.
She wanted his opinion did she? He sighed.
"It's blue," he retorted. Very blue, incredibly blue, the brightest, most blue shirt he had ever seen.
Knowing his luck she had some reason behind the brightness, probably so that it could bring out his eyes or something. He sighed again. "And bright."
Very, damned bright.
"Well, glad to see you're not colorblind, Captain," Rangiku returned. 'Blue' and 'bright'. Was that all he had to say. No 'thank you, Rangiku'? No 'it's a pretty shade of blue'? Hell, he could even lie to her and pretend to be the tiniest bit grateful. She could live with that.
Then again, this was Toushirou. She shook her head. "You always wear such drab things. Gotta spice it up a little!"
He blinked. "Why blue." That popped out before he could stop it and he… would not flinch. Besides that he did not wear drab things, he wore his uniform and his closet did have color in it. She just mostly caught him in his uniform or different suits for meetings or things.
He blinked at her. She was such… a crazy psycho woman wasn't she?
Why blue? Why indeed? Rangiku drew back, truly shocked as his question. He really didn't know why she'd picked that shade of blue? He really...
He could not be that clueless. Dear God, he really could not be that clueless. If he was, she needed Yumichika and needed him STAT. They needed an intervention here.
"You..." She gestured helplessly. "Your coloring. And the blue." She paused, drew a breath. "Toushirou, it just fits and you don't know that?"
Oh, dear God... Not good. Not good at all. He needed... oh, hell, he needed so much help right now.
He blinked at her, watching her expression go from shocked to horrified in all seconds. He sighed.
"I have blue shirts," he didn't know why he felt the urge to defend himself, but really. He had color. He didn't need her to tell him what colors looked good on him, he had his own (dare he say it) style?
Stupid woman.
Rangiku sat up straight and huffed. "You have dark blue shirts. Navy blue shirts. That is not color. That is almost neutral."
She shook her head. "Brightness! Bright and cheerful! Something has to counteract that glum everyday look you wear."
He stared. "You want me to wear bright clothing?" Obviously he did not do bright, he did dark, muted, and… they had just gone over this.
He… stared.
"But..." More flailing and helpless gestures. Honestly, Rangiku had no idea how to answer that. "Bright colors are good."
What else could she say?
She was… flailing over bright colors? He blinked. "All right," that was all he was going to say to that. No engaging in that conversation a little further, none what so ever. He wasn't touching it.
He sighed. He supposed she wanted a thank you for… picking out that ridiculous shirt. He thought about it for a second before shrugging. Like hell he was saying thank you.
She could just take the fact that he hadn't thrown it out his window already as all the thank you she was going to get.
Well... he shrugged. That had to be worth something right? Rangiku blinked at him, hands falling to the bed and she finally just wilted, leaning forward to stare at him dumbly.
"You really are something else, Captain."
Toushirou blinked at her and frowned. He was something else? What was that supposed to mean? He stared at her for several moments and decided to just... damn woman.
"I know."
Sounded much better than actually saying anything else. The more sure of that he sounded the better.
Rangiku rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders. Who knew that giving the damned man a gift could be so trying? She leaned back, trying her best to look uninterested.
"So," she asked, "you like or what?"
He glanced at the bright... blue shirt and then back up at her. She wanted an answer didn't she? An honest to goodness 'I love it, thank you so much' type response.
Girlie response.
He sighed. "It's fine." Which was to say, he did not do girlie and he did not gush and he sure as hell wasn't in the mood to say thank you. He stared at the shirt. Which meant that he was actually going to have to wear the damn thing otherwise she would look pathetic and stick those damn boobs in his face until he did.
Damnit.
Oh, she got a sigh. Someday! Someday she'd get a thank you. Someday it would happen. Until then, she supposed she had to make do with a sigh and "it's fine".
Sometimes she wanted to shake him. This was one of those times. Instead of shaking, though, she had other ideas. It worked just as well.
She winked at him and poked him lightly in the shoulder. "You wear that and you'll not be alone in that bed much longer."
He twitched. A fully body twitch that just barely suppressed his urge to lean over and strangle her. Not be alone in his bed? He wasn't alone now and he wanted to be. Damn woman. Like he needed someone in his bed.
He scowled, darkly. Then he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. This kept up and he was shooting her.
"Shut. Up." Stop talking, that was what she needed to do. That or he was going to staple her mouth shut.
Rangiku couldn't help the slow smile that spread across her features. He was so predictable and she loved it. Oh, did she enjoy it. "Bit of a sore spot, there, Toushirou, huh?" She winked at him.
"You know... if you need help, all you gotta do is ask!" Oh, God, that would burn him, but it would be worth it. So worth it just to see him turn that brilliant shade of red.
He stared at her, mouth hanging open like some damn fish. She what? Like hell he was going to go to her and ask for advice.
"Out." He spat. Sore spot? All he wanted to do was crawl between his sheets and go to bed and sleep and she… she… help? He was happy being single damnit.
Like hell he needed her help. And like hell if he was blushing.
He was blushing. Rangiku chuckled; cutest damn thing ever, that blush. Did he not know how cute that was? She stood up, still laughing at his sputtering over it all. She straightened her shirt, then dropped a hand to her hip. "Wear that," she said, pointing at the shirt, "when you come meet me for lunch today. And don't say you're not coming."
She sauntered out of the room and paused at the doorway. "I mean it, Captain. Lunch. In that shirt."
Let him stew over that one for awhile. He'd show up; he always did. Rangiku was still smiling when she let herself out of his apartment.
…lunch? He had not agreed to lunch. He opened his mouth to snap out something… and then she was gone.
He blinked. Lunch with her? In the shirt? He glanced down at the shirt in his lap and snorted, tossing it somewhere towards the other side of the room and decided that it just wasn't worth it.
He was sleeping, damnit. Immediately.
Characters: Toushirou (davyn), Rangiku (kellenanne)
Timeline: October 9, 2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Rangiku found him the perfect gift...
There was something to be said for sales; Rangiku suddenly had every excuse in the world handy for buying whatever she wanted. And if she wanted to buy something for someone else, so much the better. Of course, in buying Toushirou something, it was the delivery she had to think about. He wouldn't accept it unless she caught him off-guard. She had put a lot of thought into timing this thing just right.
She wasn't going to knock on his door, either. That just gave him time to prepare himself. And that was why she had a key. She grinned and adjusted her grip on the box she carried. Sure the box was kind of small and flimsy, but it had a pretty green striped design, and the shirt inside was to die for. She couldn't wait to see Toushirou in it. She held no delusions though of him trying it on while she was there; oh, she'd needle him about it, but ultimately? He'd grump and grouse and then, hopefully, she'd see him show up at the Ash Cat wearing it a few days later.
She opened his door quietly, peering around it and shaking her head. Totally dark. He really wasn't expecting her. She hoped he was home. She crept toward the kitchen and turned on that light - if he was in his bedroom or something, that light wouldn't disturb him - before closing the door quietly. The key was pocketed and she patted that pocket, grinning.
Definitely came in handy.
Now... where was that crazy little man?
There was something to be said about late nights. Only the truly insane, or dedicated, worked the late shifts. Even he wasn't sure why had thought working that one was a good idea. It wasn't part of his job description. He would never, ever, say it out loud - not even once - but thank god for weekends and mornings where he actually got to pretend he could sleep for an extra hour or to. This morning was no exception to that.
He was fully determined to remain stead fast in his ignorance of the clock on his nightstand. It was Sunday, he had worked all night. He was going to sleep past eight or his name was not Toushirou.
That was just how it was going to be.
Rangiku peeked into the bedroom, box still in hand, and grinned. Still in bed was he? Oh, God, but this was too good. Way too good. He must have worked late or something; she'd never known him to sleep past dawn. He was a crazy workaholic.
She paused for just one second, situating herself so she could jump back behind the door in no time flat. She didn't want shot.
Deep breath. This was gonna be good.
"Yo! Toushirou!"
His eyes snapped open, his hand curled around the gun he kept under his pillow and then he was sitting upright, gun cocked and pointed at his bedroom door. All in one motion she was practically inviting herself to be shot with that hollering.
…how did she get in? He was pretty sure he had confiscated his key the last time she had pulled this stunt. Check that, how had he not heard her? He blinked at the door trying to focus his attention. God he was tired.
Then it hit him that she had broken into his house (again) and had woken him from his sleep. His eyes narrowed to slits and he just managed to keep from growling at her. It was to damn early to even be considering anything but going right back to sleep. Immediately. Damn woman. Damn irritating, annoying, frustrating, woman. He had - a quick glance at the clock - three hours of sleep and here she was sneaking into his apartment asking to be shot.
He was not in the mood.
"Out."
Yep. She knew that would happen and that's why she was behind the door. She shook her head and peeked around the corner.
"But I brought you something!" She shook the box. "C'mon, sleepyhead. Up and at 'em!"
Sleepy head? Up and at em? Who the hell did she think she was? His mother? The soft sound of his gun's safety clicking back on filled the room and he glared at the door, setting his gun carefully on his leg and reaching up with his free hand to push his hair out of his face. It also covered his yawn, but he wasn't keeping score here. Not yet anyway.
"Out," he repeated. God he was much too tired to deal with anyone but especially her.
God... if she tried to cook him breakfast he really was going to shoot her.
Rangiku's features melted into a little relieved smile when she heard the click of the gun's safety. That meant the immediate danger of being shot was past. He probably hadn't put the thing away yet, but... Well, hell, he wouldn't shoot her! She was... She was Rangiku!
"Nope," she answered, leaning around the door. "Gotcha something."
Well, wasn't he just cute fresh out of bed? All that tousled hair, shirtless, and yawning? It was a wonder he kept waking up alone.
Then again... it was Toushirou and he wasn't known for... well, for anything pleasant.
He stared at the wall blankly. She... got him something. He grimaced, the last time she said that he had up ended up emptying his stomach into his toilet for two days.
"Don't want it."
That was nice and blunt wasn't it? What he wanted was sleep, lots of sleep, more than he had gotten last night and what happened? She walked in while he was sleeping and started telling about how him she got him something.
Like hell he was answering that with politeness.
Nasty little bugger. Completely rude. Absolutely and totally one of the crankiest, meanest little men in New York. On the planet, perhaps. She wouldn't put it past him to be the crankiest person on earth.
She still didn't know why she hung around with him, the idiot little man. Maybe it was those artful little pouts.
Speaking of... She pouted, peering around the door with big eyes. "You haven't even seen it yet."
He yawned, a jaw cracking yawn that had him covering his mouth out of habit (not because he felt like being polite) and then leveling her with a glare out of his half slitted eyes. He was confiscating that key and then he was throwing her out by all that hair.
"I am sleeping." And he was going back to sleep to. Was she blind? Surely not, couldn't the damn irritating woman see that he was trying to sleep? He was in his bed, with the sheets up to his waist. What more did she need as a sign? To be struck by lightning? That would teach her to wake him up certainly.
She stared at him. He obviously needed prodded. She might risk getting shot - damn but he was cranky in the morning - but she stalked through the doorway and propped a hand on her hip.
"Look awake to me."
He stared at her and flopped back on his bed, pulling a pillow over his head. He looked awake? If she would shut up and give him two minutes he could change that, hell at this point he was pretty certain he could sleep with a freaking firing squad in his living room, much less her. He would be fine, would just ignore her presence.
He was the one with the gun after all.
Personable, wasn't he? Rangiku rolled her eyes before leaning forward and plucking the pillow off his head.
"You are such a child sometimes, Captain." Didn't he know that made him almost too damn cute for words?
He cracked an eye at her, fingers carefully prodding the bed for the other pillow. He found it with a grunt and pulled it towards him. "My apartment," he told her, he was going to ignore her after this, really. "Can do what I want."
Which right then was sleeping.
She snorted, pillow dangling from one hand.
"My gift, which means I can do whatever the hell it takes to make you take it."
Ingrate.
She wasn't going to go away until he looked at the damn thing was she? He managed to get his extra pillow under his head and scowled at her. "Will it make you go away?"
Surely she could tell that he wasn't in the mood for this? Or maybe not, she was rather blond wasn't she? He sighed and sat up again, all the while glowering at her. This was her fault, like hell he was going to be polite.
He was not in the mood.
Rangiku put on a good show of thinking that one over. Will it make her go away? Certainly a good question. Absolutely valid, if one were a cranky midget. She, on the other hand, was not a cranky midget and therefore the question simply did not apply to her. She tapped her chin, eying him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Eventually," she announced.
She sashayed over to the bed and sat at his feet, going so far as to curl her legs under her and setting the box on her lap. She was getting comfortable and he couldn't do a thing about it.
Oh, would it burn him. She grinned and tapped the top of the garment box.
He just kept right on staring at her. She wanted him to open that box? Like hell he was going to open that box. He did not have to agree to this, he could be as difficult as possible and he was going to be very difficult.
"Now."
She could leave the box and leave. He could appreciate that. In fact, he would appreciate that. She should take a hint.
Rangiku blinked at him, grin held in place only through sheer determination. Damn childish midget; he was being difficult. She patted the box lid and gave him a withering glance. Not only was he childish, he was ungrateful. Mean. She shouldn't have brought him a damn thing.
"Ingrate," she accused. (And she was right. She always was.) "I went through the trouble of shopping for you, buying this for you, picking it out, thinking of you... and you won't even open the box."
Toushirou stared at her. "I am not," he said forcefully, "an ingrate." She wanted him to what? Fall face down on the ground and thank her for her most excellent taste and thoughtfulness? He scowled and crossed his arms.
"Fine." If opening that damn box would be what would get her out of his room and off his bed then he would open the damn box. Never let it be said he didn't do anything for her!
He held out a hand so that she could put that damn box in it. She was full of nerve wasn't she? Calling him an ingrate because he wouldn't open a box when she said to, what kind of a psycho path was she? Damn, irritating woman. She should know better than to interrupt his sleep after a full night of work.
Rangiku grinned when he gave in and clapped her hands once in glee. She shifted position, both making herself more comfortable and leaning closer to Toushirou - she wanted to see his face when he opened the box. (And he had a damn fine bed. Soft. Cushy. Full of thick blankets. She just wanted to curl up in those blankets and just lounge the day away. One day, she would. It wasn't like the captain was actually getting to really enjoy the bed. Shame, that. Really. He was too cute - and had too nice a bed - for it to go to waste. Then again, didn't always need a bed... She raised an eyebrow. Somehow, she didn't seem proper, straight laced Toushirou going for a quickie in a closet or something... but then again... Interesting. She'd have to investigate this one.)
Still grinning - and thinking thoughts that would have had him turning a bright, bright red - she handed the box over and leaned forward, chin resting in her hands.
Toushirou eyed her, carefully. She was far to excited about the prospect of this 'present'. God, no matter how big that box was knowing his luck it would be something like a giant sex swing or something, he repressed that thought rather quickly. After all he was never, ever, ever, thinking about that particular crime ever again.
He sighed. She was excited, entirely too perky, and he should have been throwing her out of his apartment without thinking twice about it. Instead… he was opening her damn present.
If it was a sex swing (and because she was so damn excited about it he was not going to rule it out completely) then he really was going to shoot her. He could write it off as self-defense. 'Attacked by giant boobs while peacefully sleeping', he could make it work.
He glanced at her (in warning) one more time and then pulled the lid off the box and… blinked. She bought him a shirt… why in gods name had she bought him that shirt. He glanced back up at her, slightly bewildered and fast moving towards grumpy. Surely she didn't expect him to wear that nonsense?
…she was that excited over a shirt?
She was going to ignore that look completely - that look that did nothing but broadcast how grumpy he was over the whole - simply because it was better off ignored. That, and she didn't want to deal with it. If she made the mistake of acknowledging his crankiness, she'd spent the rest of her life miserable, because he was always cranky.
"So?" she asked. Surely he'd have something to say about it.
She wanted his opinion did she? He sighed.
"It's blue," he retorted. Very blue, incredibly blue, the brightest, most blue shirt he had ever seen.
Knowing his luck she had some reason behind the brightness, probably so that it could bring out his eyes or something. He sighed again. "And bright."
Very, damned bright.
"Well, glad to see you're not colorblind, Captain," Rangiku returned. 'Blue' and 'bright'. Was that all he had to say. No 'thank you, Rangiku'? No 'it's a pretty shade of blue'? Hell, he could even lie to her and pretend to be the tiniest bit grateful. She could live with that.
Then again, this was Toushirou. She shook her head. "You always wear such drab things. Gotta spice it up a little!"
He blinked. "Why blue." That popped out before he could stop it and he… would not flinch. Besides that he did not wear drab things, he wore his uniform and his closet did have color in it. She just mostly caught him in his uniform or different suits for meetings or things.
He blinked at her. She was such… a crazy psycho woman wasn't she?
Why blue? Why indeed? Rangiku drew back, truly shocked as his question. He really didn't know why she'd picked that shade of blue? He really...
He could not be that clueless. Dear God, he really could not be that clueless. If he was, she needed Yumichika and needed him STAT. They needed an intervention here.
"You..." She gestured helplessly. "Your coloring. And the blue." She paused, drew a breath. "Toushirou, it just fits and you don't know that?"
Oh, dear God... Not good. Not good at all. He needed... oh, hell, he needed so much help right now.
He blinked at her, watching her expression go from shocked to horrified in all seconds. He sighed.
"I have blue shirts," he didn't know why he felt the urge to defend himself, but really. He had color. He didn't need her to tell him what colors looked good on him, he had his own (dare he say it) style?
Stupid woman.
Rangiku sat up straight and huffed. "You have dark blue shirts. Navy blue shirts. That is not color. That is almost neutral."
She shook her head. "Brightness! Bright and cheerful! Something has to counteract that glum everyday look you wear."
He stared. "You want me to wear bright clothing?" Obviously he did not do bright, he did dark, muted, and… they had just gone over this.
He… stared.
"But..." More flailing and helpless gestures. Honestly, Rangiku had no idea how to answer that. "Bright colors are good."
What else could she say?
She was… flailing over bright colors? He blinked. "All right," that was all he was going to say to that. No engaging in that conversation a little further, none what so ever. He wasn't touching it.
He sighed. He supposed she wanted a thank you for… picking out that ridiculous shirt. He thought about it for a second before shrugging. Like hell he was saying thank you.
She could just take the fact that he hadn't thrown it out his window already as all the thank you she was going to get.
Well... he shrugged. That had to be worth something right? Rangiku blinked at him, hands falling to the bed and she finally just wilted, leaning forward to stare at him dumbly.
"You really are something else, Captain."
Toushirou blinked at her and frowned. He was something else? What was that supposed to mean? He stared at her for several moments and decided to just... damn woman.
"I know."
Sounded much better than actually saying anything else. The more sure of that he sounded the better.
Rangiku rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders. Who knew that giving the damned man a gift could be so trying? She leaned back, trying her best to look uninterested.
"So," she asked, "you like or what?"
He glanced at the bright... blue shirt and then back up at her. She wanted an answer didn't she? An honest to goodness 'I love it, thank you so much' type response.
Girlie response.
He sighed. "It's fine." Which was to say, he did not do girlie and he did not gush and he sure as hell wasn't in the mood to say thank you. He stared at the shirt. Which meant that he was actually going to have to wear the damn thing otherwise she would look pathetic and stick those damn boobs in his face until he did.
Damnit.
Oh, she got a sigh. Someday! Someday she'd get a thank you. Someday it would happen. Until then, she supposed she had to make do with a sigh and "it's fine".
Sometimes she wanted to shake him. This was one of those times. Instead of shaking, though, she had other ideas. It worked just as well.
She winked at him and poked him lightly in the shoulder. "You wear that and you'll not be alone in that bed much longer."
He twitched. A fully body twitch that just barely suppressed his urge to lean over and strangle her. Not be alone in his bed? He wasn't alone now and he wanted to be. Damn woman. Like he needed someone in his bed.
He scowled, darkly. Then he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. This kept up and he was shooting her.
"Shut. Up." Stop talking, that was what she needed to do. That or he was going to staple her mouth shut.
Rangiku couldn't help the slow smile that spread across her features. He was so predictable and she loved it. Oh, did she enjoy it. "Bit of a sore spot, there, Toushirou, huh?" She winked at him.
"You know... if you need help, all you gotta do is ask!" Oh, God, that would burn him, but it would be worth it. So worth it just to see him turn that brilliant shade of red.
He stared at her, mouth hanging open like some damn fish. She what? Like hell he was going to go to her and ask for advice.
"Out." He spat. Sore spot? All he wanted to do was crawl between his sheets and go to bed and sleep and she… she… help? He was happy being single damnit.
Like hell he needed her help. And like hell if he was blushing.
He was blushing. Rangiku chuckled; cutest damn thing ever, that blush. Did he not know how cute that was? She stood up, still laughing at his sputtering over it all. She straightened her shirt, then dropped a hand to her hip. "Wear that," she said, pointing at the shirt, "when you come meet me for lunch today. And don't say you're not coming."
She sauntered out of the room and paused at the doorway. "I mean it, Captain. Lunch. In that shirt."
Let him stew over that one for awhile. He'd show up; he always did. Rangiku was still smiling when she let herself out of his apartment.
…lunch? He had not agreed to lunch. He opened his mouth to snap out something… and then she was gone.
He blinked. Lunch with her? In the shirt? He glanced down at the shirt in his lap and snorted, tossing it somewhere towards the other side of the room and decided that it just wasn't worth it.
He was sleeping, damnit. Immediately.