Taking a break from the introspective drabbles and attempting another multi-chapter story. Except this time, unlike very single time before, I've got an outline. -insert golf claps here- So its less likely to crash and burn two chapters in.
Disclaimer- I don't own Bleach. But that's alright because my Tide detergent works just fine. -cheap shot-
Deliquesce- verb [ intrans. ](of organic matter) become liquid, typically during decomposition.
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?
-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
A set of hands rubbed at a pair of tired brown eyes, trying to rid them of the sleep lurking there before traveling up through the mop of cropped orange hair above as the owner of all the features stifled a yawn.
"Hey Rookie, came to check on you. Heard Byakuya's making you do all the reports for the case." Ichigo started slightly as the fond but muted voice of Urahara sounded in front of him. The younger man let out a noncommittal noise of greeting as he looked at the blond seated at the other side of his desk. "That the journal he left us?" Another noise and a slight nod as the cop-for-half-a-year -now looked down at the passage he'd just read.
Some people hate this city; some people love it. I am under the firm impression that the ones who hate it are sorely misguided. They are the ones who are too scared to live, too scared to die. They have never truly seen what this city has to offer. They have never walked the streets with a pleasant smile of their lips until a particularly innocent face catches their eye. They have never purposefully knocked against that pretty face and made her spill her bag, only to stop and help her scoop up its contents and ask her if she'd like to accompany you for a bite of lunch or a cup of coffee. The people that hate this city have never known the rush of satisfaction one gets from having that very same face in their bed later that night, flushed, pleading and wanton. They are the ones who haven't bothered to cave in to the pleading and give her the pure carnal rush of pleasure she so desires only to slit her throat a second later- with perfect accuracy, there are never screams- and watch her blood bloom on the white sheets that you put on the bed that morning- just for the occasion. They have never played a game. No, I stand by my belief that the people who will spit on the sidewalks and call this city disgusting have never bothered to take a cleaning rag and rub at the layers of dirt and grime until they can see what a gem she truly is. The poor fools…
'The poor fools…' There was more beyond that but at this point he didn't think he could stomach it- maybe on Monday after he'd had the weekend to sleep away the images that seemed seared on the inside of his eyelids. A flash of blue hair, a glimpse of a Cheshire cat like grin, a laughing woman- beauty mark below her lower lip, the somber eyes of the criminal profiler who'd worked just down the hall from him, a gun pressed to black hair via a pallid hand. One after another like the cast shots from a new movie. It was all too fresh and raw.
"Hey, Ichigo-" he hadn't even realized his eyes were closed once again until Urahara's hand was ruffling his hair affectionately. "Go home and get some sleep, you've earned it. The reports can wait until you're ready- special permission from the director." The young ginger cracked a slight smile as he stood from his padded chair, reaching over to grab his plain black coat.
"Thanks," he mumbled, fumbling briefly with the sleeves. "But don't worry; I'll have them in on Monday. They'd all have liked that."
Three months earlier-----
Normally, Gin mused as he stood before a door that could, in his professional opinion, use a coat of paint. Normally, a man who made a living out of being a thief and a con-man would not be so willing to just hand off the wad of bills he was fingering in his left hand. But even he had to admit defeat sometimes and accept the fact that wit and smooth talking couldn't get you everywhere. Sometimes, you had to call in a bit of muscle- and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was without a doubt the man for the job. They had an odd partnership and so far he'd found it lucrative to keep it as smooth as he could.
"C'mon Grimmy, open up. I know yer in there," he rapped sharply in the door with a pale hand- the boisterous man had to be in, unless the building was haunted and the ghosts had a habit of buzzing people up. Another knock-bordering on a pound- honestly, he didn't have all night. This time it was greeted with more than silence- an indistinct muffle, followed by a thump, a string of oaths and curses and finally the door opened to reveal a faintly disheveled man in a baggy shirt and a pair of boxers.
"I was sleeping you ass," he muttered, letting out a faint groan as Gin ducked under his arm and waltzed in to the apartment as though he was the one paying the rent on the place. Manners weren't his strong point but at least he didn't invite himself in to people's houses… Christ… Would someone please do society a favor and sign that man up for some etiquette classes?
"Yer a horrid liar, you haven't slept in a shirt in years," the perpetually grinning man retorted smoothly, unaffected by the scowl he was receiving- His lips might as well be glued upwards in a smile and sometimes he thought Grimmjow had come out of the womb with that annoyed look on his face. "Now, do ya want this or not?" The silver haired man brandished the rubber banded wad of cash at the other with all the grandeur and over done drama of a magician revealing his final trick of the night- the one that required a volunteer from the audience. "'Cause I'll take it if yer not interested…" Almost instantly Grimmjow was alert, all grogginess gone from his piercing blue eyes as he snagged the money out of Gin's slim fingered hand.
"Payoff already?" he questioned, sounding as though Christmas had come early as he twisted the rubber band of his prize, looping it over his wrist. "You said it would take at least another week-"
"I lied," the con-man hummed, flopping down on to the slightly sagging couch to properly take in the show that was Grimmjow totaling up his spoils. "Ye know you can't trust anyone in our line a' work Grimm." He let out a breathy chuckle as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of coat pocket, leaning forward to sort through the mess of magazines and assorted items on the low coffee table- batteries, no- remote, no- loose change, no- lighter, yes. The blue haired man rolled his eyes slightly as he glanced up from his counting, an exasperated sigh passing his lips as Gin let the cigarette dangling from his own mouth.
"You know- Just because you bring me cash doesn't mean I like you rifling through my shit whenever you feel like it-" The only response he got was a lazy, smoke filled exhale of breath and a smirk. It was a losing battle he supposed, the first time they'd combined forces should have been enough to teach him that much at least. Instead of wasting his breath he returned to his counting. "What- Just over a thousand-? You were so desperate for my help I was expecting a little bit more than just a grand-"
"A'right then, let's go over this bit by bit," Gin retorted with a dry smirk, kicking off his shoes in a sort of haphazard manner and crossing his black slack covered legs on couch Indian style. "Ye did what exactly- roughed up a couple people t' keep 'em quiet? An' I did? Ah, that's right… Everything else. And wait- Who was the target? A lil' Mom an' Pop store- 'fraid this was more for the sport of it than anythin' else, those places just don't tend t' have the biggest payoffs fer some reason. Take yer portion an' be happy with it." He arched an eyebrow, silently inviting Grimmjow to voice any more complaints he might have. Grimmjow was stubborn and brash- a bit temperamental as well but he wasn't an idiot, he knew when the odds were stacked against him.
"You are so fucking lucky I like the cash and free therapy dealing with your ass gets me," the other man muttered, sounding vaguely murderous as he set the wad of money down on the table beside the remote and stray quarters. "Do I get to kick you out of my house now or are you going to insist on sticking around for half the night and drinking my beers?" Gin chuckled, holding his steadily smoldering cigarette between his lips as he reached down to tug his shoes on as abruptly as he had taken them off- one yank, two yanks and he was street ready.
"I was gonna actually but I've had a change of heart. Get dressed- we're goin' to the bar. I'll buy ya a drink-"
"Did you smoke some pot on the way over instead of just tobacco or are you feeling generous for once in your scumbag life?" It was a strange turn of events but Grimmjow wasn't about to complain- not when there was a shot at a free scotch or something equally as good. He glanced around the cluttered apartment trying to figure out where he might have chucked his jeans the last time he'd gotten back from the laundry matt. If he was living in a more upscale part of the city- or if he actually cared about locating things in a timely manner, he might have hired a cleaning person. But as it stood, in this neighborhood, if you hired someone to pick up your shit they'd probably end up nicking half of it and doing a half assed job with the stuff you had left. Wasn't worth it.
"Actually, I was thinkin' a' pickin' someone up for the night- And no offence Grimmy but I'd rather have more choices than just you," the silver haired man took one more drag on his cigarette before pressing it to the cracked coaster on the table in front of him, dousing the ember. He was fond of getting in a drink and a nice one night stand are a successful job-it was like a personal celebration- and the last time he'd stuck around Grimmjow's place for that they'd gotten dangerously tipsy off the pack of Budweiser in his fridge and uncomfortably close to screwing each other in the kitchenette because of it. He wouldn't call himself straight but the blue haired man also wasn't what he'd call his type- he liked them rather thin and unsure instead of well built and… obnoxious.
As Grimmjow scanned the clothes scattered around for another sock he also kept half an eye on the silver haired man standing by his door. An offer for a drink was strange- They couldn't exactly be called friends. In fact, half the time he wanted nothing more than to crack Gin's head open and he was the sure the other had homicidal urges towards him hidden in his weird, subtle, reverse psychology laden mannerisms. But their partnership was indeed lucrative for both of them and when they got past the personality barrier there were small things they had in common. They both liked getting a drink. Grimmjow because, hell, he'd made it past twenty-one and he'd be damned if he didn't take advantage of all the things he could get away with. And Gin, probably because it gave him an excuse to unnerve people more than he normally did, but he'd never bothered to ask to see if he was right. And neither of them bothered with long term relationships of the sexual sort- You weren't living if you were tied to someone by the ball and chain of commitment and when one looked at dating long term that normally involved looking in to your emotions and expressing your feelings. A strong point of neither man. But, he mused, beyond that… He made a living out of odd jobs and roughing people up- things you didn't have to think about doing to be able to do. He'd always preferred putting his brain power to different uses. Gin was the polar opposite as he constantly sized people up mentally, ran them in circles with words until he could pick out their weak points and then exploited those weak points to somehow make enough cash to support himself. All while somehow enjoying it and making a game out of the whole ordeal. Sounded like a headache and a half to Grimmjow.
After a good many pained moans of 'c'mon, hurry up' followed by a few 'I ain't payin' if you don't move faster than that' the two men found themselves started down in the street in a temporary truce. It must have been around ten thirty and the street lights were illuminating their way as they traversed cigarette butts and loose pages from last week's newspaper. Grimmjow had chosen to take up residence in a place that wasn't the cleanest nor the most refined part of the city but just like anywhere else, when you lived there awhile you started calling it home. You grew desensitized to the boarded up doors and windows and instead of screaming 'empty' those buildings clued you in to the fact that they were probably inhabited by a handful of law enforcement evading squatters who'd give you a mildly interesting story and a good laugh in return for a couple bucks. And for the most part the cops just left them alone. Sure, they'd come down and round up anyone with a record if a big crime took place but if people wanted to throw punches at each other or get drunk outside the safety of their own homes or a bar they'd turn a blind eye. Gin himself had bought himself a cozy little flat a couple blocks away from the blue haired man with the idea of staying under the radar and so far it was working wonderfully- He could have afforded a better place most likely, off the profits that petty theft and minor con brought in but he didn't want it. He got his laughs and avoided honest work this way, along with a roof over his head and a comfortable bed. Better than dealing with people in suits that had sticks shoved way up past their colons any day.
Grimmjow pushed open the door before them and was instantly greeted by the shouts of patrons as they nursed their beers while watching the football game being broadcast on the screen above the worn wooden bar ;coupled with the liquor laced of the few people that had been there since six and downed a good couple drinks for every hour they'd been seated on the faux leather stools.
"There'd better not be any catches to this free drink business," he stated as they made their way over to a couple unoccupied seats at the far end, sparing the score on the TV a brief glance before sitting down.
"Naw," Gin drawled, twisting side to side on the stool for a few seconds before coming to a stop again, facing the wide variety of liquor bottles across from him with a broad grin. "I jus' finished a job an' my favorite person in the whole wide world's workin' tonight. I think I'm in too good a mood for games… but then I jus' lied there so I guess not." He tipped his stool forward slightly on to the bar slightly, elbows propped up on it as he leaned in to catch the attention of the bar maid about three quarters down- a woman with wavy ginger hair, plump lips and what a cheesy romance novel would have labeled voluptuous breasts. "Rangiku." No response. The well-endowed woman remained engaged in a conversation with another customer who she was pouring a beer for. "Rangiku-" A little bit louder this time with more sing song mixed in to the syllables but still no response.
"Matsumoto, get your tits over here-" Grimmjow that time, gruff and with no amount of modesty or discretion. But at least it got her attention. Matsumoto slammed the recently poured beer down on the bar before the somewhat shabby looking man with a certain amount of restrained furry as the words reached her ears before marching over. With no hesitation she yanked a towel out from underneath the counter and whipped Grimmjow over the head with it. The blue haired man rubbed the side of his face where the towel had lashed him and it wasn't until he gave her a peeved look that the scowl on her face melted away to a slight smile.
"Its okay Grimm," she crooned, leaning forward the pat him on the head, which only served to expose more of her cleavage from the top of her loosely buttoned blouse. "I could have hit you much harder. Now, what brings you two here together without Grimmjow looking like he's going to commit triple homicide and what can I get you?"
"Neither of us wanted t' risk almost fuckin' each other again," Gin drawled, not bothering to suppress the smirk on his features at Grimmjow's towel lashing. Matsumoto was well aware of her assets and she certainly didn't bother to try and hide them beneath layers of fabric like other women, but there were only a few people on the face of the planet who could get away with mentioning them crudely or, god forbid, flirting with her without suffering dire consequences. He was one of them; the man to his right obviously was not. "An' two beers will do jus' fine."
"You told her about that-?!" Grimmjow questioned, looking sort of aghast as the orange haired woman chuckled and set the tall amber drink down before him. The fact that they hadn't actually fucked each other made it slight bearable but that was one of the last things he wanted- People thinking he was interested in Gin. Ugh- no, just no.
"What?" the silver haired man arched an eyebrow at his companion of the rim of his glass as he took a swallow. "She'd a' found out anyway. She's got the power of boobs on 'er side Grimm. She knows everythin'." And that was sort of true. Matsumoto probably knew more about the people coming in through the bar door than they knew about themselves. Down on their luck blokes would tell her about their wife's infidelity issues over a drink. The occasional policeman passing through would accidentally let some information about their latest case slip as she joked around and got a few laughs out of them. She was the informant that many people on either side of the law would sell their soul for, but neither side had her because she didn't flaunt what she knew unless you were a friend.
"Its true," the ginger woman agreed with a slight grin, watching, as the two men across from her didn't hesitate to start in on their drinks. "And speaking of things I know about, have you heard about these murders lately?" Her tone had shifted to one that was somewhere between serious and a gossip revealing a particularly good bit of news as she waited for some sort of confirmation from either male.
"Course," Grimmjow stated, rolling his eyes slightly. He knew what she was talking about but he couldn't say he founded all that interesting- Just a bunch of women in the wrong place at the wrong time or something. "It's all over the fucking news."
"Ah-" Matsumoto breathed looking triumphant. "But the news isn't telling you the best parts of the stuff. I had a young police chap in here the other day- seemed quite taken with me and he said that it's a serial killer." Gin raised an eyebrow slightly, taking another sip of his beer. Most of the gossip Matsumoto got out of people was essentially useless, fun to know, but useless. The stuff that came from cops was a different story.
"Go on," he prodded, leaning forward slightly. The ginger liked to know she had the attention of her audience. "The news 's makin' 'em out t' sound random. Unlinked in anyway."
"Well of course they are. How do you think people would react if they knew there was a serial killer stalking the streets?" she scoffed slightly but propped her elbows up on the bar anyway, leaning in conspiratorially. "The news is saying that the victims are all random and that the method of killing is random so there's no way they're connected. But apparently the killer alternates between slitting their throats and putting a bullet in their brain. And the victims aren't random- they're all woman and none of them are over thirty. And-" she paused taking a breath and noticing the fact that Grimmjow was now listening intently as well with a note of pride. Nobody could resist news about a serial killer. Because whether or not people were willing to admit it everyone had a certain amount of morbid fascination with that stuff. "Here's the best part that's being left out of the TV and newspaper reports. All the victims are found on public benches or the like propped up in these really lady like posses and all of them have a standard size index card between their right middle and index finger that has a quote about innocence on it." Grimmjow let out a low whistle as the bar maid stood back up fully, her story apparently done. Serial killer indeed. This was the sort of action the city only saw once in a couple decades. Murder, theft, extortion, embezzlement, they had it covered on a daily basis. But serial killers were like a completely different breed of human. Still, if he had to guess he probably would be back to not caring in the morning. He was under thirty, sure, but he wasn't a woman so he didn't have anything to worry about. And surviving these days meant looking out for yourself first and foremost.
"Ye've done quite well with that lil' batch of gossip haven't ya?" Gin questioned, sitting up again as well and drumming his fingers against his glass in a sort of absentminded manner. If the police thought there was somebody systematically whacking ladies then now would probably be a good time to start laying low- Just in case. The last little con job would cover his rent for the month anyway.
"Well I've got you to thank for that," Matsumoto sighed slightly, reaching out to snag the now empty beer glass from under his nose. "Wouldn't be around to collect gossip if not for you."
"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" the blue haired man to Gin's right questioned, making a slight face as his glass was taken despite the fact that it still had a swallow or two left in it. The dynamics between the other two always left his head spinning slightly. It was a little bit like trying to understand German when the only language you've ever studied is Japanese.
"Saved her life when we were teens now didn' I?" the petty thief drawled, propping his chin up in his palm with a lazy smile. "An' since it looks like I ain't getting' laid tonight; how 'bout a thank you kiss Ran'?" The ginger woman let out a sort of huffish sigh, making a production of turning around and placing their glasses with the other used ones from that night before she faced the two men again. With a faint smile playing around the corners of her mouth she leaned in over the counter so that she was a few inches away from Gin. The grin on the silver haired man's lips stretched wider in to something the Cheshire cat would have been proud of before it disappeared just as quickly as Matsumoto smacked him up side the head.
"How about no, you fruit?" she retorted wryly, standing back up fully and adjusting her shirt. "You haven't slept with a girl since you were seventeen, I wouldn't want you to break your streak over me. And anyway- You missed your chance. I'm going steady now, remember?"
"Yer still seein' that forensics guy?" Gin questioned with a faintly pained groan as he sat up straight once more as well, twisting in his stool slightly. "He's a midget, Rangiku. How do ya expect t' get laid like that?"
"You just don't like the fact I'm dating someone who works with the police force and could put your sorry, grinning ass behind bars," was the quick retort as he earned himself a frown for his commentary. "He's a perfectly reasonable guy and some of us care about more than intercourse in a relationship." Grimmjow snorted slightly and let out a cough in to his hand that sounded suspiciously like 'women'. A second later he was forced to slide quickly off his stool and take a few hasty steps backwards to avoid another blow from Matsumoto. Getting whipped with a towel was one thing; he'd pass on landing himself with a nice bright red mark on his cheek from a backhand. That was the sort of stuff you only wanted to sport if you'd genuinely earned it.
"Whatever," the other man added, standing as well. "I'm goin' home before it gets too late an' I'm accused a' bein' our resident serial killer. Give lil' 'Shiro my best." The last comment came out in a sing songy hum that was followed by a bark of laughter from Grimmjow as they headed over to the door shooting mocking waves over their shoulders at Matsumoto who couldn't bring herself to do more then let out a half chuckle and flip them off. Seriously, if they got along like that all the time she would have a problem. It would certainly be big enough to loose some sleep over anyway, she thought with a faint smile, turning back to the dirty glasses that needed her attention before she could get out of there for the night.
Yeah, AU just as the summary stated. Its so much easier for some reason. The full list of pairings includes: GrimmUlqui, GinKira, AiUlqui, ToshiMatsu (oh em gee, het!) UraIchi and RenIchi. If a chapter is more pairing specific I'll put a note at the beginning so you can skip it if you really can't stomach it, though all the chapters somehow play in to the plot. (Just like they should right... -sheepish grin-)
And a brief note about names. While this doesn't have a specific setting it is some place in the west, which means all the names will be in western order. Despite the fact it makes some of them sound weird...
There's also a possible doujin version from my hubby over on Deviantart if she feels its worth it.
There will be cake after pressing the 'submit' button if you leave a review. -blatant bribery-
And don't worry, it'll shortly be M for a reason.