A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. I was a bit stumped as to how exactly I wanted this to continue. ^_^ So please! Enjoy! And ignore any OOC or crack-ish moments?

It took another six weeks before Ichigo felt Grimmjow's reiatsu over Karakura Town again. During the day this time, while he was out walking with a couple of his favorite 'pets'. Walking slightly ahead of trio accompanying him, Ichigo was able to hide the smirk that danced across his usual scowl. As he felt the Sexta tailing behind his group, and getting closer, Ichigo rounded a corner, stopping short to grab the tallest of his ragtags in for a toe-curling kiss, much to the disappointment of the other two followers.

Shuuhei rocked back on his heels when Ichigo released him, the stars still dancing in front of his eyes. He almost didn't remember to say, "Th-thank you, Kurosaki-dono." Before the orange-haired Master walked on.

Beside him, Rukia and Orihime downright pouted at the preferential treatment the tattooed male was given seemingly for nothing. That was the way of it though, and somewhere in Rukia's mind she remembered why. At the moment, however, it was quite vexing that Master Kurosaki could pay more attention to someone who hadn't done as much as she and Orihime had. She almost opened her mouth when Orihime put her hand on the shorter girl's arm, drawing her attention to the satisfied and almost sneaky glint Ichigo had in his eyes. So, she kept her peace and let Master continue walking them through town.

Once they were back at the apartment, Ichigo gestured for the trio to enter without him, and though there was a bit of confusion regarding the fact that no one walked ahead of Master Kurosaki, they left him standing on the street corner alone.

"I wondered when you were going to return, Grimmjow." He stated to the empty air, knowing the Sexta was around somewhere in the shadows. "Have you come to join my harem?" He almost laughed, ignoring the internal twisting that he couldn't quite deny.

From where he hid, Grimmjow heard every word Ichigo said, but there was no way in the bowels of Los Noches that he was going to reveal himself to this cocky, over-bearing, powerful version of the substitute Shinigami he'd once faced. And the kid had another thing coming if he thought that the King of Hueco Mundo, as he called himself, was going to join some group of sex starved Shinigami, especially as an underling! He growled low in his chest thinking about it.

"Suit yourself, Grimmjow, but eventually, you will come to me." The orangette was still speaking, but there was an edge in his voice that just didn't fit with the whole "Master of his domain" thing that had been coloring his reiatsu every moment Grimmjow had sensed him since his return weeks ago.

Sure enough, when Grimmjow peeked out from the corner of the building he was NOT hiding behind, Ichigo was leaning against the side of his apartment building with a whole new air about him. He sighed deeply, and dug into his pocket, withdrawing a cigarette. He clenched it between his teeth and flicked his thumb like a lighter, though he had none, sending the tiniest kido flame Grimmjow had ever seen across the end of the cancer stick. The other man was talking again, apparently to thin air.

"Goat Face said Mom liked it when he smoked. She thought it made his hand look cool or something." He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaving the cigarette clenched between his teeth as he took a long drag. Exhaling through his nose, he continued, "I dunno if it really does, but it helps, yanno? I don't even know if you're still listening, but just like all the times ya weren't listening before, I'm just gonna keep talking. It gets this shit off my chest, and maybe if ya are there then ya can help me."

Grimmjow listened with a slight tilt to his head, and unconsciously took a step towards the younger man. He was still invisible by line of sight, as the edge of the building's roof was enough to cast a shadow in the fading sunlight. He didn't know why he was standing there, but somehow he couldn't pull himself away.

Ichigo took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled after another long drag, and he scuffed his shoe a bit on an ash that wasn't quite out when it landed on the doormat to the building. "I can't come right out and say what all this means, cuz I know you won't understand it. It's not a Hollow thing. I know that much from Shiro, but he said that sometimes, with some types of Hollows there are other bounds made. Things beyond Master and fraccion, and I guess that's what I'm trying to deal with here." The cancer stick was almost gone now, and it seemed every pull and drag brought Grimmjow closer to the edge of the shadow, towards the enigmatic Shinigami hybrid. With a final pull on the almost burned paper, Ichigo pushed himself off of the wall. "I died, Grimm. This here's a gigai. It won't age, and it'll never drain me. I don't belong here, Grimm, and we, Shiro and I, we can't stand being in the Soul Society any more than we have to."

That was the second time the orangette had mentioned someone named Shiro. His lover? No, he had those others. Grimmjow shook his head. And what was with that nickname? Who'd ever given the brat permission to shorten his name! He growled again, this time louder than before, and he knew Ichigo heard him, because the orange head whipped up and met his gaze straight on. A sharp intake of breath and a half formed word on his lips were all Ichigo got before a Garganta was ripped open and the Sexta was gone, taking his soul piercing cerulean stare with him.

He sighed, deeper this time, "How long this time, Grimm? A few weeks? Or will it be years again?" He ground out the butt of his cig and entered the building where he knew members of his harem were waiting.

Back in the ruins of Los Noches, Grimmjow roared his frustration and threw a nasty cero at one of the remaining pillars, making the crumbling stone shudder and rain dust down from the false sky. Very few Hollows came anywhere near the old castle these days, but it was technically neutral territory, where anyone could do anything and not be subject to the few laws Hueco Mundo did have. So, Grimmjow often used it as a sort of training ground, a place to work out frustration, and in this case, confusion, which often turned itself into frustration.

"You know," A low and velvety voice separated itself from the shadows behind the Sexta. "I haven't seen you this out of sorts since that Quincy thing years ago. In fact, the only time I've ever seen you this worked up was because of that Shinigami child, the one that wore the mask and fought like an Espada."

"What do you want, Halibel?" Grimmjow growled between his teeth, trying to force himself to not turn the cero he was charging on the intruder.

"You've been going to and from the Human World a lot lately, Grimmjow. Some of us are concerned you'll bring the Shinigami back." The blonde Tres Espada stepped fully into the fake sunlight with her arms crossed under her ample chest and a soft scowl on her face.

Grimmjow snorted. "We?" He asked, knowing full well she was going to bring up those that the Soul Society thought long dead.

"Yes, we. He may be a lazy, son-of-a-bitch, but he's the father of my cubs, and we'll be damned if your little personal vendetta with the Shinigami boy is going to ruin the first peace we've had since 'Aizen-sama' first started poking his nose into things around here." She spit out the name of the former overlord like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

She had a point, and loathe as he was to admit it in front of her Grimmjow agreed. It had been over 150 years since the nosey would-be god started messing around with the atmosphere of Hueco Mundo, altering the balance of power, destroying the few oasis that existed as havens for females, and just generally fucking everything up. In fact, Halibel's four cubs were the first Hollow cubs to have been born and survive in that 150 years; the first cubs to have been born period in over 75 years, when the Espada had been gathered but not yet evolved. They were precious, and even the most ruthless and mindless of Hollows avoided cubs, though that was more out of fear of the parents than true avoidance of the cubs. Because of all of this, Grimmjow knew that he was in trouble with the new mother.

"Aw, hell, Tier!" His frustration immediately drained from him as soon as he realized just what she was getting at. He ran a clawed hand through his shaggy baby-blue spikes and tried to look contrite.

It must have worked on some level because she uncrossed her arms and closed the distance between them. Placing a hand lightly on his bicep and as close to a smile as she ever gave to anyone not her cubs graced her expression. The birth of her cubs had shattered more of her mask, revealing the lower half of her face. "We understand, Grimm, but the question is, do you?"

That brought the confusion-turned-frustration back in full force, and he glared down at the slightly shorter Arrancar. "Of course I do! I won't bug the Human World again. I'm not about to put the ninos in danger! I may not be Em-Ulquiorra, but I'm not stupid, Tier."

She raised her hand to his non-masked cheek and her eyebrows knit together over something akin to worry in her grass-green eyes. "No, you won't put them in danger, but at what cost, koibitto?" She left him to his thoughts then, with a soft tap on his cheek and a slight displacement of air from her sonido.

He roared again. Stupid Tier, with her stupid ideas, and stupid thinking, and stupid Strawberry with his stupid harem and stupid talking, and on top of it what the fuck did he think he was doing with Vulgar Face? Attention like that? In public! The hell! He fired another cero at yet another innocent pillar, this time bringing the piece of ceiling down, shattering the white throne-like chair under it. The irony of where he was working out his frustrations hit him then and he threw his head back and laughed, harder than he had in years.

Maybe there was something to this Strawberry thing after all.