Chapter 2: Time Bomb

In the event in which he could figure out how to crack a bomb, Grimmjow would have gladly shut the ticking noise off without question.

But well, he couldn't, and so he was now glaring at the obnoxious wires-infested object that was sitting in front of him with a mocking countdown

The teal-haired man cursed loudly. "There's no effing way I'm stuck with this," he muttered, denying the red, bold numbers on the monitor. "Aizen can kiss his ass goodbye…and where the HELL is Ulquiorra when I actually NEED him!?"

Having a dire need for a cigarette, Grimmjow reached into his back pocket for a Lucky Strike stick, and scowled when finding a light, empty box instead. The man heaved in a breath before getting up from his initial squatting form.

"What did that pervert Szayel said 'gain? Something red wire…across from black…straight from blue." He tried to remember the outline his companion had drawn for him this morning. All he could see was a cluster of cables that slithered around like snakes, peering at him like they were going to disconnect themselves and leave him choking in the intensity and cloud of stress.

THAT or it was going to explode and Grimmjow was going to be wallowing in self-pity in hell. "Shit, aren't I supposed to cut the red first? And that bastard didn't tell me anything about green!! Why am I HERE!?"

Grimmjow kicked the black box of destruction unwittingly and it tipped. He regretted it when the stupid number 8 innocently switched to a blinking 5.

Cerulean eyes widened almost alarmingly at the sudden change.

Great…now he needed 2 cigarettes.

Eh, I tried…

With that thought in mind he wrapped the ticking box in a red cloth he pulled from his messenger bag, and checked to see if his knots were strong enough to hold, before darting off, swinging the package left and right as he went, you'd think that the guy would handle a bomb with more care than this.

Grimmjow swished though dark corridors, instincts guiding him forward before catching sight of elevators' lights. He glided forward and kicked open the fire escape next to them, almost tumbling down the steps when he carelessly miscalculated the distance of the cement floor and the stairs.

Grimmjow cussed and took a few levels down before jumping over the rail in attempt to go faster.

Glancing around for a back window stupidly, Grimmjow was stopped short in his actions when a familiar ringtone whiffed into his ears. The teal-haired man instantly reached for his phone.

"What," Grimmjow rudely snapped into the earpiece. He heard a muttered 'trash' before a monotonous tone of voice spoke.

"Where are you?"

Grimmjow's eyes shot to a scurrying rat and he frowned at the creature. "Follow the trail of smokes, man…I'm gonna be exploding soon because of you."

"Stop joking around," the voice muttered back. "Tell me now. This is happening because you fail to disconnect the—."

"Did you actually EXPECT ME to succeed?!" Grimmjow burst hysterically.

Who the hell gave him this job in the first place?

He didn't know the first thing about bombs; it was like giving a teacher a machine gun or a mechanic a wooden desk to fix. "Why didn't you come figure this out yourself?"

"It was Aizen-sama's wish for you to get rid of the explosive device, Grimmjow…"

…

What?!

Grimmjow stood for a moment in contemplation.

"Would it kill you to disobey orders for once?" He was tired, sighing in exasperation, still surveying the grounds as to find a way to figure things out. Grimmjow doubted anything helpful would show up now, no, he wasn't that deserving, so no guardian angel was going to come down and save his ass anytime soon.

Rather, they're probably up there cackling at his misfortune right now, exclaiming 'good riddance' or something.

Grimmjow heard a static sound from his cell, like the communicator on the other side had been moved.

"Grimmjow? How are you?" a smooth voice talked, and Grimmjow twitched his nose in disgust, sucking a breath through clenched teeth when it came through.

The teal-haired man grumbled. "Aizen." He tested the name out, and decided that no matter how many times he heard it, he disliked it. "Is this your idea of a joke—?"

"Could you please look at the time for me?" the voice cut him off. It wasn't rough—that bastard didn't know how to be crude—but it was rude nonetheless. Grimmjow grudgingly look at his watch.

He paused and pulled the brown package he was carrying open instead once he realized Aizen's true meaning.

"…2 minutes 35 seconds and decreasing," the man notified, getting nowhere near happier than he was before, which was to say…'it wasn't much'.

"Oh, good," Aizen commented nonchalantly.

What pissed Grimmjow off so much was the lack of sarcasm in those words. Seriously, did that guy want him to die?

Aizen continued. "Please leave the little object by the door, wherever you are, preferably…the fifth floor." Grimmjow looked at the walls and saw a big, red 5 smacked near the exit. A suspicious coincidence, wasn't it? Grimmjow lifted his eyebrow in interest. It was like that bastard was planning something from the start and deliberately left him out of it.

He shook his head and reminded himself that he was running out of time, doing as he was told with obvious disdain as he continued to mentally complain.

"What the hell are you trying to do now?" He placed the object carefully on the ground. "Aren't you on the 10th floor or something, cus you're not gonna make it…" Grimmjow warned.

Was he worrying?

The man pondered. Of course he was, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone in particular because those assholes obviously didn't need any more boosts to their over-sized egos. Regardless, Aizen Sosuke was his boss, so even if Grimmjow wasn't a loyal bastard in denial, he was going to be jobless if his employer ended up in a coffin after this.

So, philosophical wise, Grimmjow was going to become a hobo if Aizen failed to get his ass out the elevator shaft in time.

Before Grimmjow could wonder anymore about his not-so-bright future, the graceful tone floated through the earpiece again. "No, no. We're waiting for you right now, Grimmjow." The man was practically smiling. "Worry about yourself first and please hurry."

Something…

…was off…

Grimmjow felt it; it was that kind of instinct-driven emotion, or an electric shock somewhat, that ran through his body, and he wondered if the feeling was turning into a big, fat sign for him to jump out the window right now instead of going back to the ball-room and risk blowing up to pieces.

It was 1 minute 35 seconds and decreasing on the black box of doom.

Grimmjow was going to have to run now to get to the party Aizen was in before the bomb went off, if not actually getting out alive—forget about being unharmed.

He was definitely going to…

But…

"Where EXACTLY are you right now, Aizen?"

There was a short hiatus on the other line, and then this innocent, cheerful voice came.

"Oh?" Aizen started, a little confused—which was just a huge, faux tone in Grimmjow's ear. "Did I forget to mention that the party was over?" and each syllable that the teal head heard made his upper lip twitched in anxiety.

"We're in the lobby right now." Grimmjow could just feel the man smiling. "Heading outside—."

The countdown blinked 30 seconds…and Grimmjow jumped out the fifth floor window after all.

Fuck you all.

The bomb went off not too long after the rash action was made by a certain hitman; the loudness of the explosions did well to cover up the cracking of bones in the back alley behind the building, so as the commotion started and police cars came rushing, Grimmjow was left to contemplate on his early retirement alone in pain.