FINALLY! Chapter Two! *collapses* Sorry sorry sorry it took so LOOOOOOONG! I had a goal; submit this chapter before anything else. Thank you for waiting, but what are you reading this crap for? Continue to the story!

Bleach=not mine!

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"Spaghetti? Oh, come on, Ulquiorra! Spaghetti so boring!"

The pale Espada glared at the whining man. "After the last episode, I think that spaghetti is all you can handle," he said, icily.

Grimmjow scowled.

Ulquiorra handed him a giant pot. "Fill it with water."

Grimmjow complied. Once the pot was about two thirds full, he turned off the water, and tried to lift it out of the sink by its handle. "Shit! This thing is heavy!"

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes and approached from the side. He lifted the pot with one hand under it and one wrapped around Grimmjow's on the handle. "You have to lift it from beneath, idiot. Basic leverage."

Grimmjow went slightly red. Ulquiorra didn't seem to notice their extreme proximity; he just walked to the stove, dragging Grimmjow with him. "Do you remember how to work the stove, or not?"

Grimmjow nodded. He twisted the dial.

"Wrong burner. Use this knob." Ulquiorra jabbed at a different dial. Grimmjow obligingly turned that one, too.

"Turn off the other one, you fool!" Ulquiorra yelled, but turned off the other burner for him. Grimmjow scowled. "You need to give constructive criticism, Ulquiorra, not plain criticism!"

Ulquiorra ignored him. "Now, turn down the knob to a simmer," he instructed, crisply. "Put the lid on the pot, and now we wait for it to boil."

"But that could take forever!" Grimmjow whined.

"Try about fifteen minutes." Ulquiorra sat down at the table. Grimmjow sat opposite him. He sprawled in the chair, tilting it back on two legs.

"you're going to fall over if you keep doing that," Ulquiorra commented.

"No I won't," Grimmjow retorted.

"Yes you will."

"No I won't.

"yes, you actually will."

"Uh, NO, I fucking wo-" The legs of the chair slipped and Grimmjow flipped backwards, banging his head into the giant stainless steel fridge behind him, the very fridge that had terrorized him not too long ago. Now it was hurting him too? WHAT WAS THIS!?

"AW SHIT! FUCK THAT HURTS!" Grimmjow howled, rubbing his head. Ulquiorra almost smiled. Almost. Except that Ulquiorra did not smile. It went against his creed. Grimmjow disentangled himself from the chair and flipped it upright again. He glared at it. "Stupid chair," he growled, sitting down again. And not rocking.

A fly buzzed. Awkward silences ran over each other and the Pirates of the Caribbean theme seemed to play in the distance somewhere before petering out and dying. Grimmjow scratched his head. Ulquiorra looked at the ceiling absently.

The quiet became oppressing. This was pathetic. The two Espada couldn't even keep a conversation going. Grimmjow twitched. Ulquiorra did not twitch. Grimmjow fidgeted. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened it…and the buzzer went off on the stove. He jumped. Ulquiorra stood up and turned it off. "The water's boiled," he said, a bit unnecessarily.

"I noticed," the blue haired Espada growled, getting up. "what now?"

"Spaghetti…" Ulquiorra ripped open the packaging of a box of pasta. He dumped it into the boiling water, and handed Grimmjow a wooden spoon. "Now, stir it," he instructed. Grimmjow began aimlessly stirring. He flipped the spaghetti over; water splashed and the noodles slid over the side.

"Not like that!" Ulquiorra said, impatiently. He pushed Grimmjow aside and grabbed the spoon. "you have to do it gently, in a clockwise rotation," he said.

"What if I want to do it counter clockwise?"

"Then do it counter clockwise!" Ulquiorra stirred the pasta. Grimmjow walked up from behind him. "Okay, okay. I get it. Lemme do it." He reached around Ulquiorra for the spoon. Ulquiorra looked up at the taller man irritated. "You are so immature!"

Grimmjow grinned down at him. "Just let me stir the damn spaghetti." At that moment, Ulquiorra noticed exactly how close they were; Grimmjow's arms were practically wrapped around him. A faint-ever so faint- blush coloured the pale cheeks. Ulquiorra slid under the arm and stood beside Grimmjow, watching closely as he stirred the spaghetti vigorously.

After a little while, when Ulquiorra deemed it ready, they drained the noodles and put them in a huge bowl.

"Voila," Ulquiorra said, drily. "Spaghetti."

Grimmjow stared at the huge mass of pasta. "what do we do with it?"

A tiny frown from Ulquiorra. He hadn't thought of that. "Um…"

"Maybe we could refrigerate it."

"…and then what?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Give it to Yammy," he advised. "Best damn way of getting rid of unwanted food."

Ulquiorra agreed. Yammy was a veritable food vacuum. "Alright. And next week we'll do something harder."

"What? Ooo, what? Tell me! Tell me!"

"No."

"TELL ME YOU BASTARD!"

Ulquiorra walked out of the kitchen, ignoring Grimmjow. He might have been smiling, but Ulquiorra didn't smile.

Most of the time.

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Chapter Three hopefully won't be so long in coming.

Hopefully.