Title: Reading Between the Lines
Rating: G for goofy. And giddy.
Summary: Ever wonder what our heroes do between chapters?
A/N: I have neither explanation nor excuse for this, I really don't.

"Ten."

"Are you kidding me? You're kidding me, right? That is way too low. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Fine, then." Ishida scowled at Kurosaki. "How many chapters do you think it will be before we reappear in the storyline?"

"At least fifty. At least. We've got all that shinigami v. visored crap to get through."

"Fifty chapters! You think we're going to be camping out here for fifty chapters!" Ishida glared at Kurosaki over Orihime's shining head, bent over Ishida's shoulder, which she was diligently healing. "Fifty chapters. I should just jump off the edge of this tower right now."

"And I'm not even there," Ichigo sighed. "I would love to see Hiyori get her bossy ass kicked."

"That's so mean!" Orihime said. She patted Ishida's now-restored shoulder. "How does that feel, Ishida-kun?"

"Yeah, well, I get mean when I'm hungry. The last time I had anything to eat was chapter 199. I'm starving." Ichigo dropped to the ground and clutched his stomach. "Why'd you even bother to have Inoue put your arm back together, idiot? The next time we have page-time she's just going to have to take it off again."

"Yammy had food back in chapter 342," said Ishida, carefully rotating his now-restored arm. "Thank you, Inoue-san. And I don't like feeling lopsided. Has anyone seen my arm? Anyone? I want to sew my sleeve back on."

"Don't tell me you have a sewing kit on you," said Ichigo. "That is so very, very gay, even for you. It would take, like, three hours to hike back to chapter 342. Why can't He just draw us some food every once in a while?"

"I don't think the blood is coming out of this shirt," Ishida fretted, reaching into an inner pocket to pull out a sewing kit. "Inoue-san, do you think I can get the blood out of this shirt? It's my favorite."

"Fussing about your clothes and worrying about bloodstains and carrying around sewing kits. Could you be any more of a woman?"

"Could you be any more of a prick?" Ishida scowled again. "I don't have to put up with insults from someone who just stabbed me in the gut."

"Not my idea, man. I got the script same as you did." But Ichigo gave a sheepish shrug.

"Ishida-kun, you seem irritated," Orihime said. She bent down to peer at the boy's ripped shirt. "Don't worry about the stain. When we get home I'll just unmake it for you."

"Hey Ishida, you pissed?" Ichigo asked, uneasy now. "About the whole sword-in-the-gut thing? Because that wasn't me, you know. You're not pissed, are you?"

"You can take out stains?" Ishida said.

Orihime sighed. "Another fabulous power from yours truly. Aren't you so impressed?"

"No, that's useful," said Ishida. "Think about it. The ability to kill people is only useful in limited circumstances. Stain removal is useful pretty much every day."

"About the stabbing-you thing," said Ichigo. "I just want to make it clear that if it was up to me—and it wasn't—I would never stab you. You know it wasn't up to me, right?"

"Oh, would you shut up about it already? Here." Ishida pulled a candy bar from one of his coat pockets and flipped it to Kurosaki.

"Food! Food! My pal, my buddy!" Ichigo said, ecstatic. "Big I, you the man!"

Ulquiorra's voice echoed out of thin air. "Would you all please shut up?"

"Speaking of irritated," said Ichigo, around a mouthful of chocolate. A little whirlwind rose up out of the rubble and Ulquiorra coalesced from the middle of it.

"I need a cigarette," Ulquiorra muttered. "And a new agent."

"You need a new agent," said Orihime. "You need a new agent? You just got the most meaningful, touching death scene in the story thus far. And what have I gotten? Emotional abuse, connect-the-dot bruises over my entire body, and—"

"An unrequited infatuation with the lunk-headed hero," finished Ishida. He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, which he tossed to the espada. "No offense, Kurosaki."

Ichigo shrugged. "None taken."

Orihime pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I thought He would give me a chance to show that girls can think too. I thought this story line would give me a chance to be tough. But have you listened to me lately?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Ulquiorra looked at her through the cloud of cigarette smoke. "There was no possible way to avoid it."

"Kurosaki-kun, Kurosaki-kun, Kurosaki-kun! I sound like I got a lobotomy for Christmas. What is wrong with me? Who wastes their whole life mooning around after a guy who doesn't give them a second thought and who's got exactly two thoughts in his head? No offense, Kurosaki-kun."

"None taken," said Ichigo.

"At least you got to be in the touching death scene," said Ishida. "I got to sit here bleeding and ignored."

"At least you got to be a hero. Again. While I got to huddle here whimpering and clasping my hands and shouting for Kurosaki-kun. Again."

Ulquiorra dropped the cigarette butt and ground it under his heel. "Do I have to stay here? I'm dead now. Doesn't that mean I can go?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Haven't you been paying attention? No one ever really dies in this story, Bonehead. You might as well stick around. If we're back in fifty chapters, I'll bet you're back in less than a hundred."

Ulquiorra straightened. "I'm to be trapped up here with you for two more years?"

"What's wrong with us?" demanded Orihime. "We're good company."

Ishida reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. "There's four of us. We could play bridge."

"Bridge? What do you think we are, old people? That's an old-people game," said Ichigo. "Let's play poker."

"Let's not. You're hopeless at poker. We could play gin."

"Or canasta!" said Orihime. "You and I can be partners, Ishida-kun."

The espada shook his head. "No. You can be partners with me."

Ishida bristled. "What if she doesn't want to be partners with you?"

"Then we're not playing. I'll partner with you (indicating Orihime) or you (indicating Ishida). Not him. He's an idiot." Ulquiorra looked sideways at Ichigo. "No offense, Kurosaki."

Ichigo scowled. "You implying that I'm stupid?"

"Whatever," said Orihime. "I could care less who I'm partnered with, as long as I get to play."

"Are you implying that I'm some kind of dimwit? That I'm some kind of dummy? That I'm some kind of—"

Ishida reached into his pocket and pulled out another candy bar. "Kurosaki—catch."

"Food! All right! Ishida, you the man!"

"Deal, Ishida-kun," said Orihime.