Dabbling with Drabbles - Bleach

The Damsel In This Dress

Title: The Damsel In This Dress

Pairings: Maybe a hint of IchUki

Words: 958

Warnings: Female Ukitake.

It wasn't uncommon these days for Ichigo's bedroom window to abruptly open in the middle of the night. He had long grown use to any given Soul Reaper passing in and out at any given time. However, when a pair of long, white, slender legs slipped in first, touching the floor without a sound and the vision of celestial white soon following, tendrils of silk and ribbon was anything but normal.

There, standing in the middle of his room was a most beautiful woman, draped perfectly in a thin strapped, V-neck gown of light blue, a slit up the side to her thigh, showing off that creamy white leg, an anklet made of silver adorned her ankle. The dress appeared to be made of the finest silk, easily folding to her every curve, enhancing, beautifying everything about her, from her petite waist to her naturally developed breasts. Not too big, not too small, just perfect.

Tresses of pure white, like snow, cascaded around her shoulders and down her back, shorter strands easily framing her face, of which had a pretty pink flush to her cheeks. Her eyes were a gentle brown and looking at everything but him, casting off to the side, peering shyly at the floor.

She looked like an angel, the small white wings attached to the back of her dress only enhancing the effect.

However Ichigo knew she was no angel (Ok, she was gentle, kind and friendly, much like an actual angel, but technically she wasn't one), but a highly respected, most beloved captain of the 13 Protection Squads.

Ichigo literally fell out of his chair with a thud, his eyes wide in complete and utter disbelief as he scrambled back against the wall. "Captain Ukitake?"

A somewhat shaky smile appeared on Ukitake's lips as she finally turned her attention to him, appearing flustered and uncomfortable. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion, Ichigo," Ukitake promptly replied, a genuine expression of remorse on her face.

Suddenly she looked incredibly uncomfortable, embarrassed and somewhat distressed, her hand lifting up to play with a tendril of her hair.

"I know this might sound quite strange," Ukitake said shyly with a flushed expression. "But do you think you can help me out of this dress?"

Ichigo's mind and expression just went eerily blank and a thick silence fell over the room.

"...What?"

The blush on Ukitake's cheeks flared up somewhat. "The zippers stuck," she explained quickly.

Slowly, Ichigo felt the gears in his head start to turn and he blinked slowly, snapping himself out of his state of bewilderment, instead now he was only mildly confused. Hey, he had been a substitute Soul Reaper for quite some time now; he should be use to random events happening to him now.

He pushed himself up upon his feet, gathering his wits and swallowed thickly. "I guess," he said as a shaky smile of his own appeared, his grin turning more genuine when Ukitake looked relieved at his consent to help.

"Thank you, Ichigo!" she said happily as she turned around and lifted her hair from her back, revealing the zipper that was there.

Ichigo moved forward and studied the zipper for a moment, unable to stop himself from asking; "So, why are you wearing the dress in the first place?"

An exasperated sigh passed her lips. "It was all Shunsui and those dratted women from the Soul Society Woman Association's doing. Shunsui was teasing that I had a great figure, to which Rangiku happened to overhear, which, of course, lead her to compiling a plan with her fellow women to see if it was true. So, in short, they shoved me in this dress to see for their own eyes."

"What did they say?" he asked as he gave the zipper a light tug, biting back a smirk at her explanation.

Ukitake shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure. I ran at the first chance I got," she explained as she looked over her shoulder at him, her hair being held up in a make-shift bun with her fingers. "How bad is it?"

"It's stuck, alright," Ichigo said with a frown on his lips, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Why don't you just rip it?"

"I don't want to resort to that," Ukitake quickly interjected. "It's a nice dress after all and they put so much effort into making it."

"Tch, you're too nice," Ichigo tisked lightly as he tightened his grip on the zipper, wriggling it around for a second. It gave way a fraction, prompting him to suspect that he could fix it. He moved a little bit closer to peer more critically, before placing a hand on her side, keeping her still. "Hang on," he said. "I've almost got it."

He then gave a sharp tug, to which it abruptly became unstuck and he pulled it the rest of the way down, unzipping it completely. A triumphant grin appeared on his lips as Ukitake breathed a relieving sigh, lowering her arms a little to allow her hair to slip through her fingers as she glanced at him from over her shoulder, a sweet, warm smile on her lips.

Suddenly, the door to Ichigo's room burst open and a man appearing of less than middle age skidded in, his posture seemingly ready for combat, crouching down in a martial artist move. However, he froze, as did Ichigo and Ukitake, Ichigo still grasping the zipper with his fingers and his hand on her waist.

Slowly, Ichigo turned to the intruder with a telltale twitch in his eye. Of course, it had to be his father, didn't it? "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Ichigo!" he suddenly bellowed. "How did you manage to score with such a beautiful woman?"