Author's Notes:

Since the completion of my last story I was feeling rather uninspired. For weeks I drifted in and out of ideas, yet none sparked my interest. Then this one came to me in the shower and within thirty-six hours it was done

I have always loved the Dickens classic "A Christmas Carol", and the idea of Grimmjow as Scrooge was too irresistible to pass up. So I present my take on the story from a Bleach perspective. A crossover fic I guess you could say!

I have started a tumblr blog for this story and you can find the link on my profile. I plan to give sneak peaks at future chapters, and have commissioned the talented artist Sideburn004 to make sketches of the various characters, so please check it out.

One last note, I also had the joy of sharing this with my husband and daughter and was able to watch their expressions as they read through the chapters. It was so fulfilling to see their reactions, and I wish I could see your reaction as the reader as well. Alas all I have is your response in the form of a review. So please let me know what you thought, and what parts touched you as you read.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Bleach and its characters are the creation of Tite Kubo

Beta: lilarin

Cover Art by Sideburn004

Chapter One:

"You fear the world too much," she answered gently. "All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off, one by one, until the master passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?" ― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

He lay awake in bed staring up at the lights from the city as they danced across his ceiling. The alarm had yet to go off and he debated simply giving up on the sleep that refused to come, and getting out of bed and hitting the gym early. Glancing at the clock he noticed that it was four-thirty; still a half an hour until he normally got up and ready for the day. Even on this morning, when most of the world spent the last few moments searching for the perfect gifts for their loved ones, now frantic as the minutes ticked quickly by them, he would not veer from his usual routine.

He hated Christmas. Always had, and nothing was going to change that. It was a noisy useless holiday only good for the profits it now brought him. Yet for the gains he would make financially this December 25th, there were always a million other causes demanding he give that hard-earned money away.

Fuck charity, he thought as he exhaled loudly into the silent room. He worked his ass off to get the things he desired in life, and he sure as hell was not going to give it away to appease some misplaced notion that good deeds would somehow save his cursed soul. He knew what waited for him on the other side, and he had decided long ago that he would get the most from this life before he faced the consequences for his actions in the next.

He had known what it was like to be hungry. He remembered the burn in his gut that came with wanting something so badly that it ate a person alive, but he had done something about that, and he vowed he would never go back to that life again. What he owned was his, and he refused to part with any of it.

Cursing loudly he sat up in bed and threw back the silk sheets. Swinging his feet over the side of his bed he leaned over and reset the alarm for tomorrow. It was useless to lie here any longer. He still had a full schedule ahead of him today, might as well get started early.

"Good morning Mr. Jaegerjaquez," his secretary looked up from her computer screen.

"Miss Ise," he nodded as he continued walking to his office.

She followed suit and stood patiently in front of his desk while he got comfortable. As soon as he was situated she began to rattle off his itinerary for the day. He listened patiently. He had hired Nanao Ise when he had started his business five years earlier. She was efficient, ruthlessly so, and she ran his office with precision that would rival the best of military operations. Most importantly she could take his shit and never batted an eyelash.

Pausing for a moment she took a breath and handed him an envelope. "Your brother has invited you to Christmas dinner with his fiancee and her family."

He took the invitation and opened it, barely even glancing at the information written inside.

"Fiancee," he muttered as he placed the card into the shredder beside his desk. "The stupid kid is barely twenty years old and yet he ties himself to some girl he has been dating since his first year of college. Most likely she will end up pregnant and all that money I invested in his education will have been for naught when he drops out to support her."

"Toshiro has always seemed a practical boy," she stated but became silent when he shot her a glare that told her he did not want her opinion. Straightening the notes in her hand she continued, "Should I let him in when he arrives…?"

"I told him not to come."

"You tell him that every year, but that does not seem to deter him in the least. She looked to the shredder, "Maybe if you would attend one of these dinners with him, he would stop pestering you to come."

"I have better things to do with my time than sit around and sing Christmas carols and pretend to enjoy his fiancee's annoying family," he grabbed the notes she held out to him.

"Understood," she nodded. Before she turned to leave she said low, "I received a call this morning from an Orihime Inoue." He froze and looked up from his messages, "She said she was an acquaintance of yours from high school."

"I know who she is," his voice was gruff, but his heart was racing at a furious pace in his chest. Why would Orihime call? It had been almost sixteen years since they had graduated. Fourteen years that he had left her behind him to make his way in the world. "What did she want?"

"She asked to speak with you," Nanao said evenly. "She sounded very upset and practically begged me to fit her into your schedule."

"And you told her I was busy," he replied as he continued to go through his messages, trying in vain to ignore the pressure in his chest that refused to dissipate.

"She wouldn't take no for an answer," Nanao met his eyes as he looked up. "I can have security escort her from the building if she attempts to see you."

He laid the notes on his desk and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He did not need this. Not now. Not when he finally had his shit together. Still the idea of seeing her again stirred something in his heart. A twisted feeling of pleasure mixed with pain. It would be a mistake, a huge mistake. Still he was curious.

"If she comes in let me know," he said softly. "I'll decide if I can fit her in."

"Yes sir," Nanao replied and left the office, closing the double doors quietly behind her.

He sat back and exhaled deeply. He was reminded again why he hated Christmas. People always had a way of coming out of the woodwork at the holidays. Yet he never gave them a reason to believe he would ever contribute to their cause or grace them with his presence at one of their functions. He valued his time and money too much to share it with anybody else.

Not family. Not Friends. And least of all not ex-girlfriends who believed they could save his soul if he let them in.

"Miss Inoue is here, Mr. Jaegerjaquez," Nanao's cool voice came on the line. "Should I tell her to leave?"

He cursed under his breath. "No, send her in. Better to see what she wants."

A moment later the doors to his office opened and Nanao led his visitor inside. He stood and stared at her. Orihime Inoue, the only woman he had been foolish enough to ever consider loving. Time had not changed her much. Oh, her body had grown even more curvaceous if that was possible, and her hair was still the most brilliant shade of auburn, and her lips screamed for him to devour them if he would let himself fall under her spell. Yet he was not that boy anymore, and he was able to place his head before his heart much more effectively than when he was in high school.

"Grimmjow," her voice was tiny and unsure. He noticed her hands clenched tightly onto her handbag. "It's good to see you again."

She smiled, but he could see the anxiety in her gaze. Motioning for her to sit at one of the chairs in front of his desk he said to Nanao, "Would you bring something for Miss Inoue to drink?" He looked to Orihime, "Water or something a little stronger?"

"Oh, I don't need anything," she sat down and clutched her bag so tightly her knuckles were white.

He nodded and dismissed his secretary. Sitting back down he said coolly, "I was surprised to hear that you wanted to see me. Usually people don't come to visit unless they want something," he noticed her grow pale. So that was it. She wanted money, or something else from him. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk he continued, "I see this is not a personal call for old time's sake."

She stiffened at the cold tone of his voice. Fidgeting with the strap of her bag she said nervously, "I wish it was, Grimmjow. I hate to even meet you under such conditions, but I am in dire straights and needed help quick…and well…you came to mind…because you played pro ball…and you know what it's like to come from the projects…"

He hated that she was rambling. Even more he hated that she was bringing up his past. A past he had worked very hard to distance himself from.

"The point Orihime," he cut her off. "What is it you want from me?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself and then rushed forward again, "I work at Towards Tomorrow, it's a recreational program aimed at keeping kids off the streets with after-school activities like sports, culinary training, and art classes…"

"Orihime," he interrupted again, "I do not donate to such causes. You're wasting both our time…"

"Please," her eyes met his with renewed determination, "I know your feelings on helping the less fortunate," he bristled at her chastising tone, "But this is different. You see, each year we have a gift exchange for the younger children in the community. People donate toys and clothes and other things, and we distribute them at a big party on Christmas Day. Only this year…well yesterday someone broke into our storage unit and stole everything…the presents…the trimmings…all of it…"

"And you wish me to donate money?"

"Actually money would be nice, but time is running out. I was hoping instead that you could donate actual items. Since you own one of the largest sporting goods franchises in the country, I thought you would have things on hand, you know like footballs and basketballs, maybe some bikes…"

"And you expect me to just give these things away because you did not protect your donations as well as you should have?"

She sat tall, her eyes now blazed with indignation.

He though was not done, "I have employees Orihime. They work hard for their paychecks, and I work hard to see that this company stays on top so that they continue to have paychecks. Times are tight right now, and I cannot afford to give away inventory to every bleeding heart that walks through my door."

She shook her head sadly, "You honestly feel that way?"

"Fucking straight," he replied angrily. "I worked hard to get where I am, and I am not about to piss away everything I have strived for just so some do-gooders can feel satisfied at the holidays." She gasped. "I will not break policy for anyone. Not family, nor friends, and least of all," he leaned forward further, "Old lovers who haven't seen the need to contact me until they are desperate for help."

She stood abruptly, the chair she was sitting in rocking before settling down again. "My God Grimmjow, what happened to you? When did you become so cruel?"

He smiled wickedly and stood as well, "This is how I have always been."

"No," her breath caught in her throat, "You used to understand what it meant to dream…"

"Dreams don't fill your belly, and they sure as hell don't put presents under the Christmas tree," he shot back. "Those kids need to learn that lesson. Better sooner than later so they can stop relying on others to provide for their futures. In this world no one really gives a shit about their dreams."

"I disagree," she whispered.

"And look where that's gotten you," his words were in fact cruel, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. She made him feel so fucking vulnerable. She always did. "Your dreams have landed you at my doorstep begging for a handout."

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, "I didn't want to believe what they said about you in the papers or on the gossip shows, but I see that they were telling the truth, you are nothing more than a selfish, arrogant bastard."

"A rich bastard though," he grinned and she lowered her gaze.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time," her voice was choked and he wondered if she was fighting tears. Most likely; her kind would rely on whatever they could to get a donation, even stooping to tears.

She gave him her back though and left without another word. He stood rooted in place. Damn it. He hadn't meant to be such an asshole, but in his heart he had had a fleeting moment where he believed she had been there to see him, and only him. Yet she had wanted something from him, just like everybody else, and he was so angry that he had even dared hope, that he had lashed out at her with every bitter feeling he possessed.

He walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. Swallowing the spirit he grimaced as it burned his throat. He then proceeded to drink another. Still it did nothing to fill the emptiness in his gut.

"Fucking Christmas," he slammed the glass down shattering it on the cold granite counter.