A.N-Hi hi everyone. This is the debut of my latest GrimRuki fic that I've written, and I've been meaning to post it for a while but work, ya know? My book's not gonna write itself-sadly- so I have to take brief trips away from tech and internet to harness my inner goddess of pure erotica *x*to write focused. The updates or continuation of this story will depend on if readers review or show interest. Also, will contain smut *as usual* so don't flame me if it's not your taste.

Kisses, P.O.P

I Spy

MARCH 20TH- 13:40 A.M.

Exhaustion- it was creeping up on her, blurring her once focused eyes and making her reflexes drag. Understandable though, she had been through a day that was a test on her endurance levels that left her incredibly annoyed, hungry and in need of a hot shower and a drink.

She cursed the broken lift as she lived on the tenth floor, and in her fatigued state she was forced to climb the stairs using up the last of her energy reserves. She'd been working reconnaissance today, doing a little bit of corporate espionage concerning a corrupt government politician using national funds to run his company, and she hadn't had anything to eat in over 24 hours.

Frowning at her dirty attire, she stripped down to her skin as soon as she made it into her apartment, leaving the torn and bloody body suit carelessly on the ground. She made her way over to the kitchen area, where she rummaged through her cabinets a bit until she found the appropriate liquor she was seeking, and took down a glass with it. Pouring it full, she sighed and chugged it down in a few gulps, before refilling it and making her way over to the stainless steel fridge to get something to eat. It was stacked with convenience store bentous, and she randomly tugged one out and broke some chopsticks to dig in at the kitchen island. She ate only for fuel, her body on auto pilot as she replenished her energy and quickly finished the boxed meal, before disposing it into the kitchen sink. She finished her glass of vodka and made her way to the bathroom, anxious to get rid of her grimy feeling.

Rukia Kuchiki: twenty years old, employed by Soul Reaper Inc., currently single and baby sister of the business mogul Byakuya Kuchiki. That was her public record. However, there was something that was hidden from her public information, and that was the person she really was, underneath all that clout.

Rukia Kuchiki, code name Shirayuki, by record the best spy to ever emerge from one of the best agencies around, Soul Reaper Inc. Fluent in four languages, first language English, second being Japanese. Japanese by race, one of the best in martial arts, hand to hand combat, weaponry and tactical planning. Prodigy of the great Yamamoto-sama, founder of Soul Reaper Inc.

Two days ago, a client had requested her to do some corporate espionage on their behalf on a Mahayana Trading Group, a public enterprise owned by the Government politician Shaw long Feung.

Today had been going extremely well, she had infiltrated the building, stolen the hard drives from the head of the company's office, and even gotten the proof her client needed from the surveillance videos. She had been faster than she expected, she even had enough time to get into her car and leave. That was when he had strike.

"Fucking Pantera", she hissed, turning on the shower head.

Blood and dirt washed off her skin under the steady stream of hot water, revealing its natural creamy white coloring. She took her time to enjoy the cleansing actions, generously lathering her petite body with soap a few times over, thoroughly scrubbing with a brush. She rubbed shampoo vigorously into her short, thick locks of a raven's wing, sure to wash the dirt out.

He had messed up her escape route, and stolen those hard drives and footage that she had stolen from Mahayana Trading. It wasn't the fact that he'd shown up that irked her; it was the fashion in which he chose to do it. He had run her Chevy Camaro into a pile of scrap metal when he drove a dump truck straight into it, making her abandon the car and the stolen items locked in an indestructible titanium briefcase in its backseat. She hadn't escaped unscathed; there was a shallow cut along her left arm that was still bleeding more than it should. Not to mention the emotional loss of having to get the remains of her beloved car to a junk yard. Then she had to report in to Urahara, do paperwork and email her boss before she could leave.

Pantera was his codename, but unfortunately Rukia's acquaintance with the man went some years back. His name was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, younger brother of Aizen Sousuke, her brother's biggest competitor in the business world. They had met at many formal occasions such as parties, company functions and the like before on countless occasions, and he did leave an impression on her, and that was before she found out who he really was. He was a big man, much larger than her five foot tall build, thirty years old or so, and the one of the best spy's she knew of. He was six feet four, muscular and tanned with a lady-killer smirk and wild light blue hair that matched his aqua eyes nicely, although he was one crude bastard always spoiling for a fight. At least that was how he behaved with her, when she wasn't trying to seriously injure or kill him, that is.

He worked for Soul Reaper's longtime rival, Espada, and was their sixth best spy. Granted, she was the prodigy of her agency but she was ranked at number two, and compared to him, she sometimes wondered what the difference in their strength meant and how big it was. Besides, it didn't matter that much. Since she had become a spy three years ago, he had always been trying to knock her off her flawless streak, and she reciprocated in kind, taking to sabotaging each other's jobs while trying to be the top dog. But today, what he did was unforgivable. That car had been a gift from one of her closest friends and fellow spy Ichigo Kurosaki, and he had completely wrecked it.

Oh, she couldn't wait to get her hands on him this time. Maybe she would blow up his stupid Impala just for kicks.

Rukia sighed under the hot spray, rinsing off her body and hair and reaching for the shower knob. She turned it off and carefully stepped out of the blue-tinted glass cubicle, her foot touching cool tile as she grasped a towel from its ring. Instead of connecting with the cotton though, she grasped air as someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her against a hard chest, and squeezed on her pressure points, knocking her unconscious. As her violet eyes fluttered close, she glimpsed a tendril of aqua hair and tanned skin.

Motherfucker.