Ulquiorra Cifer & Grimmjow Jaeguerjaques, Ulquiorra Cifer/Grimmjow Jaeguerjaques.

I don't own any of the characters mentioned. Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

Summary: There's a first time for everything. Getting along and playing nice was something near impossible for the Espadas. They tended to forget conflict in order to avoid Aizen's anger. Even so, who would think being forced to interact would end like this? Nice words are not a common occurrence, but they sure as hell happen.

Grimmjow didn't expect it to go this way. Heck, they even deviated from the starting point. Even so, who would think saying nice things was just as confusing and troublesome as having a clearer picture of their real person, of how they thought? He'd never in a million years admit it out loud. And Ulquiorra wouldn't either, probably. Not to anyone else.

/ Can be taken in a romantic light, or just a normal interaction (with OOC, probably).

TRY AND SAY SOMETHING NICE

"So… try and say something nice 'bout me, will ya?"

Ulquiorra blinked at the petition of the Sexta, not knowing how to respond. Should he even bother and do so?

"What for?"

Grimmjow's cool temper slipped for a second, but Ulquiorra saw the man cover up his annoyance and watched silently as he sat next to him. The Sexta seemed to give thoughts to the question, though, as his eyes were focused ahead and his brows were pulled down.

"I… I dunno." He answered, shaking a shoulder. "How the fuck should I know?" It came harsh, almost angry. And those blue eyes looked at green, obviously troubled. "How the fuck am I to know? Just… Just do so."

Ulquiorra looked away, not interested in complimenting anything about the Arrancar. What could he say, anyway? 'It's nice how you haven't died', yeah, a lie. It wasn't nice that the Sexta's life had not ended yet. His stupid recklessness and overconfidence in his abilities had almost costed many mission's success. If the Sexta were to disappear, Ulquiorra was sure someone more responsable and with a better temper would take his place.

"What for?" Ulquiorra asked again, deciding he'd give the man another attempt. He wasn't just about to do what he had demanded just because. That wasn't how things worked. And if Grimmjow were to give him a good reason, then this allowed him a few more seconds to come up with an answer.

Grimmjow's scowl deepened as he crossed his arms over his chest. He fumbled with words for a moment, before he turned to face the Cuarta.

"So, whadya doin' here? I never pegged you as the type to take a moment and look at this stupid dessert and fake-ass sky."

It was a clear attempt to buy time, Ulquiorra could tell. Feeling in the mood to humor the Espada, he answered, "It's a brighter side to what it's outside of Las Noches. You can see here what you can't there. In a sense, it brings some sort of calm."

Grimmjow hummed in thought at the answer. "You know, the Human World has this shit, too." And his index finger pointed up ahead, to no point in specific, "A little more brighter, though. And you can actually see the damn sun. And trees. Don't find the appeal in here, not with all those red buildings sticking up." He leaned back, supporting his weight on his hands as he analyzed the fake sky that hung over this part of Las Noches.

He'd never liked it here. It was just so out of place. It reminded him of what had become of Hueco Mundo. This place mirrored, in a sense, the three ex-Shinigami that had taken over this world. It was fake, and not normal. This was never meant to be here. Hueco Mundo had never seen the day, nor had it ever met the blue sky, littered in differently-shaped clouds. All it knew was of endless days with a moon hung up high, and a dark mantle that covered all of this world.

Grimmjow looked at Ulquiorra silently, and wondered if the Espada would answer to his comment about this place. He found himself captivated by the sight, by Ulquiorra's distant gaze that was in turn captivated by the sight in front of them, by this fakeness that had been made due to Aizen. Grimmjow wondered what Ulquiorra's thought was on the matter. And for a moment, he wondered what had been of Ulquiorra's life as an Adjuchas. How had it felt for him to look to the endless night sky?

"It's…" Ulquiorra started tentatively, snapping Grimmjow out of his reverie. "It's something Aizen-sama created." Ulquiorra said, and there was a tone to the way it was said that made Grimmjow growl.

Was that all Ulquiorra knew? Aizen this, Aizen-sama that. The Espada was like a broken record, like an echo of his own words. The way he worshiped the ex-Shinigami was vomit-inducing. It was insulting to Grimmjow. How could an Espada like the Cuarto bent down to meet a Shinigami's will. If Grimmjow had that kind of power— no, he had that kind of power. He had it, no matter he was positioned in Sixth place, falling behind the Cuarta. He just lacked resolve to step up and face against the three Shinigami and the Espadas. Not that there was a reason pushing him to do so, anyways.

"It's a show of what he can do…" The Cuarta continued, and Grimmjow swallowed the venom on the tip of his tongue. "Aizen-sama's power goes beyond my understandings, and I'm sure he can create a new world for us all. For that, I shall follow his every word."

To Grimmjow, it stung. It was like a stab, with enough force to cut through his hierro. The emotion on those green eyes was devastating, and he couldn't hold the gaze. Instead, he looked ahead, and searched in the sand an answer that could quell his discomfort. Bitterly, he thought that Aizen was not worth it, if his creations could not offer any comfort.

He couldn't grasp why was Ulquiorra so attentive of the now-ruler of Hueco Mundo. Why was it Ulquiorra sought out the man's power? What sort of world did Ulquiorra want, anyways? Once again, he wondered about the Cuarto's life as an Adjuchas. Grimmjow had thirsted after power, and he had worked hard as means to attain it. Aizen had granted him that opportunity. What had Ulquiorra thirsted after? Was a new world what Aizen had promised the Cuarto?

Nevertheless, it was insulting. It was. It was debasing and defiling, and that damned Shinigami had tainted what Hueco Mundo was. He had debased those who ended up under his wing, under his orders. He was making all these Arrancar work for him. Grimmjow couldn't understand it. How the Cuarta could show something akin to devotion. It made his blood boil. It just wasn't how things were meant to be. A Shinigami should never rule over a Hollow, over a Gillian, over an Adjuchas, it should held no power over the Vasto Lorde, and certainly not over those with enough strength to belong to the Espada. Shinigami were there to kill them, to engage in a fight to the death until one or other turned victorious. What sort of bullshit was that of a Shinigami helping them attain even greater powers?

"Do you hate him, Grimmjow?"

His blue eyes snapped back at Ulquiorra, as he found himself surprised and puzzled by the question. "What? 'Course I don't. I mean, I'd rather have him dead than alive, if that's what ya ask. But…", and his frown deepened. He shook his head and guarded his self, kept his eyes free of emotions other than that of annoyance, thinking that maybe, the turmoil inside him had gotten the better on him, and had given away what he was feeling to the always scrutinizing eyes of the Cuarta. "I gotta recognize his work, I guess. He gave us all this power, did he not? The power to evolve further and become Espadas."

"You don't seem thankful for—"

"I'm not!" Grimmjow said quickly, baring his fangs to the Cuarta. "I recognize what he's given us, but by no means am I grateful to that bastard." And there it was, the venom dripping in his every word. They came bitter, and rough. And it was an obvious way to express his anger.

Ulquiorra said nothing. He didn't defend Aizen, nor did he move to try and beat some manner and respect into Grimmjow. He stayed there, sitting, and with his eyes glued to Grimmjow's face, searching for something. It was when he found that something that he looked ahead once again. "Your eyes." The Sexta's brows moved in a way that made his look questioning, and the previous aggression had already bled out of his system. "It's your eyes. The color."

"What about 'em?" Grimmjow inquired, confused by the sudden change in subject.

"You asked me say something nice about you. I don't understand why would you do so. But that's my answer." Ulquiorra elaborated, voice monotonous.

"My eyes?" Grimmjow blinked, and his memory jogged, quickly remembering he had demanded Ulquiorra to tell him something nice. "So? What about the color?"

Ulquiorra's green eyes were directed above them, and he patiently pointed out to the sky. "They are blue, just like this sky."

Grimmjow's puzzlement did not diminish. If anything, he grew more confused with such answer. "So… ya like the sky?" He said slowly, trying out the question, to see if it was the correct one. "Wait, no. You like this sky, right? So it reminds you of Aizen—"

The Cuarta cut him short, shaking his head. "I like the sky, period. It looks so vast. Out there, you can't see this sky. The one that's bright. Not in a million years could I think of seeing this blue out there. The sky out there is like my hair. It's dull, it's boring, it's a shade I know by memory."

Grimmjow was rendered speechless. Not by the words themselves, but rather by the way the Cuarta had decided to share information so easily. Because this was, perhaps, the one time they had exchanged that many words without hurling them as a mean to insult. Recovering from his state, Grimmjow's grin was drawn over his lips.

"Ya kno', my hair is around the same shade of my eyes." He teased, wanting to hear Ulquiorra compliment him in that aspect too.

"Your eyes are far more expressive. They are not empty, and there seems to be a vast array of emotions you mirror in them." He further explained, and Grimmjow grimaced at that.

"Well, good way to say my hair is dull. But I'll take it."

Ulquiorra rested his hands on his sides, and hummed as a response.

"Your eyes are pretty good too, Ulquiorra." The Cuarta turned his face at the comment, and was about to say something when the Sexta held his hand up, stopping him. "I'm a man who doesn't like to keep debts, so in exchange of nice words, I shall give them back." He said, toothy grin in place.

Falling in silence, the Cuarta waited for the Sexta to continue. He couldn't help but think about the words just spoken. Could it be Grimmjow considered Aizen's involvement in him becoming a Espada as a debt? Was that why the Sexta shouldered on orders, in spite of the clear discomfort of them?

"They are a nice green, if not too… empty. Not a bad thing. But it reminds me of the trees in the Human World. You know how things around here are just stupid sticks, all looking 'bout the same and with no leaves. They're all dead." And he sneered at it, apparently disliking the idea of the similitude of the plants and the lack of life of them. "The ones Human have are more diverse, and they always seem to be living and thriving. Dunno what's with those shits. They just 'bout die and come back 'round." He shrugged at his words, and his blue eyes went up, before meeting the Cuarta's. "It's interesting, I guess. The trees here are all boring."

Ulquiorra offered an amused huff at the Sexta's words, and closed his eyes as he tried to understand the Espada. Oh, how could they be so complex at times. When a battle or mission was not in the middle, a lot of things came to the surface. In these rare moments, someone's thoughts could slip through, and give an insight of the real thinking behind their actions, a glimpse to who they were. It was hard, though, to find a middle ground for them all. It was rare to not be nipping at each other's neck, trying to beat themselves out of position, trying to climb through status and numbers.

"But…" Grimmjow's serious voice cut through his musings. "Why so chatty, Ulquiorra? Never heard you speak that much ta me."

It was the wide grin on the Sexta's face that made Ulquiorra rise up his walls. It was a grin that he knew too well. It was a ruthless one, a hunter's grin that was in search for an opening, an opportunity to deliver the fatal blow to its prey. "I could be asking the same, Grimmjow."

The Sexta laughed, his hollow mask parting, and the sharp fangs of the mask separating. "Ya want me honest? Aizen was going on about this… 'getting along' bullshit. And the other ex-Shinigami… what was his name?" He scratched behind his head, and after a second or two, spoke again. "Ah, that Ichimaru was all over my ass simply 'cause I refused to speak to you. Can't blame me, you and I have bad blood."

"I see. It was Aizen-sama who told me to try and get along with you, too."

Grimmjow's grin stayed well put in place, and he couldn't believe what that bastard had done. "He played us good, dammit. Don't go around getting wrong ideas, though." And he pushed himself, letting his elbows rest on his knees. "I ain't gettin' along with no one. This here was just to get them both off my back. For all I get to care, y'all can kiss my ass and die."

"I don't see why it should be any different."

"Good."

And with that, Grimmjow stood, leaving Ulquiorra to himself. He left the place with his hands on his pockets, quickly covering all the possible emotions he had felt back then. This personal moment was nothing. He couldn't care less if his relationship with the other Espadas implied a fight to death with each encounter. For all he cared about, their relationships could stay as they were, and Grimmjow could keep disliking them, hating their guts and behavior. He wasn't going to change just because Aizen had asked a more mellow attitude towards the others. He wasn't going to give him that. He never did as he was told, anyway. He never followed through, not like Ulquiorra did. He would obey, but on his own terms. He'd do as asked, but only in the way he so wanted to. Whatever it was, he recognized Aizen's attempts to make them all get along, but silently laughed at the Shinigami's foolish way of thinking. There was no way they could all get along. Not even a chance in hell. It had given him proper ammunition, though. And he could easily blackmail the other Espadas when they were being a nuisance. He had gotten enough of them.

His step faltered for a moment, and he looked back at the Cuarta Espada over his shoulder. The thin frame was just as he had found it. The Cuarta's eyes were still glued up ahead, probably. Admiring Aizen's works on the fake sky. He felt the same insult bubble inside his chest, but he quickly forgot about it. He didn't care at all about the other Espadas, and he sure as hell didn't care about Ulquiorra's stupid desires for a new world. He didn't give a shit the Cuarto was so blinded to see they were all just pawns playing Aizen's game. Who knew, maybe the Cuarto was aware of it. Just as Aizen had played his hand now, Grimmjow knew the bastard could play the cards however he wanted. He huffed and resumed his way. He couldn't care less even if he tried. The Cuarta's devotion could only push him to his end. That's why Grimmjow refused to become blinded by Aizen. He didn't need the man to achieve his goals. And he'd play as a pawn as long as he wanted so. He wouldn't, however, allow himself to be sacrificed just to Aizen could make a checkmate.

.

Ahh, there were so many points to explore in here! Ultimately I cut them all short or omitted them. I'd be deviating much more than anticipated if I hadn't done so :p. Anyway, there's so many things that could have been said, so to speak in a nice way. Ultimately, I settled for the eyes.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! As always, any mistake I've done is mine, and would appreciate it if you pointed it out so I can keep getting better!