Grimmjow hated his job. He hated his job something fierce. Teaching kickboxing to the elderly could get really annoying and stressful really fast. When he first started working at this dump of a gym some four years or so ago, all the old men wanted to do was lecture him on his life or explain to him what it was like in "their days" and all the old women wanted to do was flirt with him like they were twenty again. Grimmjow didn't mind at first, he would listen the the geezers stories with "ooh"s and "ahh"s and occasionally flirt back with the old hags, but then again, that was four years ago. And now he wanted out.
He was going mad, afraid that he would forever be stuck in that hell hole of a gym until he became one of the old geezers taking the classes instead of teaching them. He was only 28 for Pete's sake! Grimmjow didn't want to have to think of retirement and wearing belts so that your pants would actually stay above your belly-button, not just for style. Again, he wanted out. No, he NEEDED out.
Grimmjow sighed and looked around the kickboxing room ushering the blushing, giggling, school girl wannabe grandmas out the door before he turned off the lights and signed off for the day. Then, his ears picked up something a pair of old geezers were rambling about as they packed up their water bottles and towels were saying.
Geezer 1 said "God I can't stand this place! I'm barley 65 and I feel like I belong in a morgue surrounded by all these dead beats!"
Geezer 2 replied "I know exactly what you mean. I heard there's a new program at that gym down the street uhhh… What's it called? Seretery? Secretary? Seretri?"
"Oooh! You mean that Seireitei place off of 4th!"Geezer 1 exclaimed "Yeah, I heard about that place! Supposedly it's got great programs, equipment and classes but it's also got an age limit. Can you believe that? You gotta be 40 or younger in order to get into that place! And to top it off, they're cancelling their kickboxing class cause the teacher there is getting married! So even if I was allowed to go, I wouldn't."
"Do you think I could pass off as 40?" Geezer 2 inquired, hope radiated off him like an old oil lantern gives off a glow.
"Of course you could, you're only what? Ten years older than me?" sarcasm oozing off of Geezer 1's statement and they passed a very excited looking Grimmjow, but didn't take notice. Grimmjow had eaten up every word of what those old rust buckets were saying. He was a kickboxing instructor, he was under 40, and he was dying to get out of this gym turned old folks home. Grimmjow made a mad dash for his bike after clocking out, hopefully for the last time.
After a couple minutes of very fast driving, he pulled into the parking lot of Seireitei Gym and Health Club. Parking his all black Kawasaki Ninja in the very full parking lot and found a spot in the way back. Grimmjow ripped off his helmet and practically ran towards the place that looked to be surrounded by a golden light. 'This is it' he thought, 'this could be my savior, my sweet promise land flowing with milk and oranges?'His thoughts, and body, came to a crashing halt when he was knocked from his daze by an invasion of the color orange.
Grimmjow found himself on his ass, staring at probably the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. A young boy in a light blue v-neck and black sweatpants was currently trying to gather the objects he had dropped after the collision. He looked up at Grimmjow, a red mark on his forehead sat just above to deep brown eyes and right below a wild mass of orange spikes. Below the chocolate orbs that were currently gaping at him was a bright blush that rivaled the color of the mark on his forehead. His pink lips were thin, but full and currently opening and closing in a manner that looked somewhat like a fish out of water.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry!"Ahh, so the boy actually had a voice. A sweet baritone that Grimmjow's ears drank up. "Nah, its cool kid. I wasn't payin' attention either. And look" Grimmjow touched his nose and pulled his hand away to show that it was blood free, "no harm done, see? Here, let me help you..."
"Ah, Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki. Pleasure to meet you…" the boy managed to stumble out, still flustered from the initial impact. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques at your service, kitten." he replied with a devilish smirk as he handed Ichigo his after bottle that had rolled away. "Whoa, hold up. I just gave you my name, feel free to use it. If you don't understand that, it roughly translates to 'don't call me kitten', punk." Ichigo threatened with a glare, but it wasn't very effective, or at least in the sense that Ichigo wanted it to. It affected Grimmjow's state of arousal, quite a bit actually. So much, that it made Grimmjow just want to play with his new found toy even more.
"Ouch, so the kitten's got claws? Feisty one, aren't ya?" Ichigo's face reddened and a look of horror crossed the boy's expression before he hid it with a scowl, and Grimmjow began to feel a little bad for messing with a complete stranger, so he continued. "I'm just messing with ya, kid. It's all good. So maybe I'll see ya around, yeah?"
"Fuck off, prick." Ichigo bit out as he whipped around and stormed off towards his car. 'Damn, he has a nice-' BEEEEEP! Grimmjow's thoughts were stopped once again as he came to the realization that he was still in the middle of the parking lot with a couple of cars wanting to get by. "Yeah, yeah, I'm movin'. Sheesh, don't get your panties in a bunch."
Grimmjow made his way to the front desk of Seireitei and was greeted by an extremely pale stoic face that he knew all to well. "Fuck, Qui? You work here?" he shouted out of sheer shock. Grimmjow had always known his best friend worked as a receptionist at a gym, he just never realized it was this one! "Yes, I do work here, Grimmjow. Now, would you please refrain from the use of foul language in my place of work? And don't call me 'Qui'. I have a full name for a reason, so please, feel free to use it." Ulquiorra shot back with a cold glare that Grimmjow had seen to many times for it to actually have any effect on him.
"That's so awesome! So listen, I heard that your kickboxing instructor is leavin' or somethin' and I was wonderin' if you needed a, uh, replacement?" Grimm asked, scratching the back of his head in a shy manner. 'Fuck, I didn't even think to call ahead or ask or anything! Now I feel stupid! What if he turns me away? I'll have to go back to that old gym that reeks of mothballs and old people farts!' Grimmjow couldn't stop the thoughts from invading his head, doubt clouding his mind. He was so far off in his thoughts he almost didn't hear the quite chuckle. Almost, that is.
"The fuck are you laughin' at me for?"he ground out, still feeling somewhat embarrassed.
"Its not like you to get embarrassed over such a thing as asking for a job." Ulquiorra stated Grimm's thoughts out loud, as if he had read his mind. "I am also laughing at the fact that you made my job that much easier. I was just about to begin searching for a replacement. I believe you will fit in well here." Ulquiorra grabbed a manila envelope that looked close to tearing and slammed it on the black granite counter he sat behind. "Fill these out while I go consult with the manager."
Grimmjow grabbed the envelope, which weighed a fucking ton by the way, and walked over to a cream colored couch with a matching set of chairs across from it with a black coffee table in front. 'Shit, this is a lot of paper work.' he mentally grumbled as he plopped down and pulled a pen out of his pocket and began to fill out the monstrous pile.
"Congratulations, Mr. Jaegerjaques. You now work for Seireitei Gym and Health Club." Grimmjow's new boss offered out his hand politely.
"Thank you, Mr. Kuchiki. I promise to work hard." Grimmjow took it in a hearty hand shake, then bowed and left the room.
It was a Friday and he started his new job on Monday. Grimmjow had handed in his letter of resignation to his old boss that very morning after being called the night before, asking Grimmjow to come to Seireitei around one o'clock to sign a contract if he still wished to work as their kickboxing instructor.
Happy dancing(mentally, of course) to his beloved bike, Grimmjow began to formulate plans for tonight. It was still only around fourish, so he would have time to shower and round up to troops before a good night of clubbing. He flipped open his phone and sent out a mass text to his friends saying: Hey. Wanted to go out, first round of drinks on me :D
He immediately received multiple responses from his gang, all shouting a resounding 'YES' with a couple adding 'be at your place in an hour'. Chuckling to himself, he slipped on his helmet and sped off into the afternoon, he couldn't wait to break the news to the guys.