Thank you for all the reviews cnd comments! FYI I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot! Sorry, more fillers here but I'm not gonna leave the characters hanging so I'm making sure all the bases (as far as character development is concerned) are covered. Rest assured the juicy parts will come in soon...I hope.

Also, I need some help, y'all. Send me some prompts, please or the next update will be much later than this one if i ever run outta ideas again. Secondly, i need a ghostwriter for smut. Yeah, you heard read it right. I CAN'T WRITE SMUT. Not yet, anyway. So if anyone's interested in helping me write one, do PM me... as for the prompts as well. This is just a request, kiddos. Ignore it if ya want.

#sigh# onto the story then...

I dont own BLEACH

--

Grimmjow was grinning as his two subordinates entered—the look of worry evident on their visages only served him too well. He wordlessly gestured for them to take a seat on the couch as he took the stack of files on his desk and handed them to the raven-haired girl, saying "Take these files back to those dumbasses and tell 'em to move on to the next phase—as for the other losers," he glanced at the thrashcan to emphasise his point before continuing, "tell them to redo the goddamn proposal and hand them back to me by the end of tommorow or they can kiss their fuckin' cubicles goodbye."

"Yes, Jeagerjaques-san. I'll inform them immediately," she bowed a little before winking at Ichigo and headed towards the door in what seemed to be a rush.

"And Kuchiki?"

"Sir?"

"Once you're done, pass the ex-PA-woman's—what's her name again?-- files to our dear Kurosaki here, mmkay? And make sure he knows what to do by the end of the day."

"Will do. If that's all, I'll be off for now"

Rukia closed the door silently behind her and with that Ichigo's only means of escape from the scrutinizing, smiling look of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. The silence that ensued only served to make the redhead more aware of his surrounding as his eyes began to wander to the stark white walls and the black furnishings which, in his opinion, is somewhat bare, marred only with the occasional splash of color from the files and folders littering the room. The teal-haired man continued to stare at the youth for a few minutes, as though contemplating what to say before finally breaking the silence.

"Let's get to work, shall we? See those files over there?" he pointed at a particularly messy (which, really, is an understatement) corner of his office and instructed, "I want all those files sorted and placed in the rack—sort them by color and content, will ya—I swear they can't be anymore of an eyesore. By the way, Kurosaki," he waved his mug. "I still need my coffee after all—so go get me some after this. And while you're at that," he said as he tossed a file haphazardly towards the lad—who was caught unaware and took the file on his face—before resuming his instruction, " Pass that file to Mayuri or Szayel in R&D three floors downstairs and grab my lunch on the way up from the cafeteria," all of which was muttered in a single breath without losing a beat—something only a certain boss can manage with a bored tone to match. Said boss then removed his glasses, chucking them aside and proceeded to type on the keyboard , oblivious to the confused and highly pissed look on the PA's face.

"Could you repeat that again?"

"Time's a-ticking, Kurosaki. Might wanna start now or God knows what else I'll think of asking you to do"

That being said, the redhead gave a frustrated sigh before slowly moving to clear the files strewn all over the area, the boss smirking discretely. The files were not exactly messed up, thankfully, but were nevertheless piled at areas not even possible by the boy's standard (behind the potted plant? You have GOT to be kidding me); with the amount of documents in the room, he could've swore half the world's paper supply were in there at the moment—he might need a wheelbarrow to haul the darned papers. Or his dead body buried underneath them an hour later. It took a good half an hour to even place them in the same general vicinity, nevemind the fact that he will have to sort them as well. Finally getting to the next task of sorting them out, it was then when Grimmjow glanced at his wristwatch rather idly and stood up, stretching a little before announcing " Gotta meeting, like, now. Don't forget my coffee and lunch, Kurosaki—I want 'em as soon as I'm out. And the files—R&D. Geddit?" and promptly walked out of the office, leaving the PA very much alone—not like he was able to appreciate the moment, anyway. Time is not on his side.

It took the poor lad another solid hour before he finally placed the final—goddamned—file into its place, pausing awhile to marvel at his magnificent handiwork of sorts—a mishmash of colors carefully arranged and placed in a much too small rack. It was also about then when he realized that the document on his boss's desk is not going to deliver itself; neither will said boss's lunch. He wasted no time rushing out of the office clutching the file, passing a smile (grimace, really, but this IS Kurosaki Ichigo) to the midget-sized secretary as he passed her. When he did finally reach the elevator, he was rather miffed at the number of workers waiting for the effin' moving metal box which, loosely translated simply means squashed sardines and bazooka to his nostrils, what with body odors and the such. He doesn't have a choice anyway—even with four elevators running it WAS close to lunch time, after all.

Grimmjow was, simply put, bored shitless and pissed as hell. While he had to admit he DID handpick these people currently occupying the conference room, he refused to believe they were such magnificent morons when he first chose them. Three quarters into their presentation, after having his ears bled out by stupidity of godly proportions (Chicken costumes, handing out samples!? Must...resist...firing...), his brain simply refused to work and shut down. Suddenly, twirling the pencil and sketching his favorite characters from Bleach on the meeting table seemed much more productive than shooting down more than five-quarters of their proposals (hell, even HIS sketches are better than their storyboard illustrations. Who drew them anyway? 5-year-olds with crayons?). He took a huge gulp from his cup and stared at his watch intently. One more hour, G. Just hang on...

The journey, which took a scant 3 minutes in the elevator, felt like a lifetime for the PA. As though the task of having to keep the folder from being squashed by sweaty bodies weren't enough, there was the challenge of staying conscious while being exposed to inhuman amounts of BO and pressed flat to the walls of the elevator by a sweaty body—all for the sake of a meal and a file barely half an inch thick. He would've cried and kissed the floor then when the elevator opened at the cafeteria—hell, even snog the cleaning lady, had he the time. Placing the order for "Grimm-chan's lunch" to quote the cafeteria lady, he then paced himself quickly towards the elevators, which thankfully were less occupied that time around.

A huge explosion greeted the redhead as he arrived at the R&D department; the unmistakable smell of smoke permeating his senses and clouding his vision. It wasn't long before the smoke cleared, however, not without the water sprinklers going off and a few indiscretely uttered oaths by the PA. He did manage to make his way to the main office amidst the chaos, however and was well surprised to see it unaffacted somewhat by the pandemonium outside caused by the explosion. While he was curious about the strangely colored liquids lining the racks, he was not about to find out what they do by sticking his hands into them, lest he loses an arm or two—he needs all the help he can get working under Grimmjow, after all. So fascinated was he with the chemicals he failed to realize a slim figure stalking behind a rack and was nonetheless scared out of his wits when said figure approached him from the back to place a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Turning around to meet his assailant, he was greeted with a creepy looking man with an equally creepy looking color for a hair; he hypothesized the color might therefore be caused by overexposure to the suspicious chemicals there, not that it mattered anyway. The pink-haired freak of a fruit smiled.

"Ah, you must be Grimmjow-san's new assistant. I am Szayel Apporo Grantz, Vice-Manager of the Research and Development Department by the way. Nice meeting you." He was rather reluctant in giving his hands to the weirdo but did so anyway after figuring that he had nothing to lose but (potentially) his haircolor.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

"I see, I see... So did you bring the documents we requested?" A forced smile.

"Yeah. Here you go"

"It's a little wet, neh? Nevermind...I apologize for the mild...inconvenience awhile back there. It was a slight miscalculation on our part that caused the minor explosion. Nothing to concern yourself over, however... only 6 personnels were killed this time." the grinning man announced.

"...Right. If you don't mind, Szayel-san, I have some matters to attend to so I'll be off for now"

"Alright. See you sometime soon, Kurosaki-san" the eerie smile was somehow perpetually plastered on his face.

Turning around, Ichigo decided he did not want to remain in the same room as the pink-haired man much longer and quickly walked towards the entrance, passing the still-chaotic labs until he finally reached the elevators. Relishing the fresh scent of the very much unsmoked area, he was reminded of Grimmjow's lunch; he rushed back to the cafeteria immediately just in time as the meal was ready. He was, to say the least, astonished at the amount of food Grimmjow ate for lunch—which mostly consists of meat. The cafeteria lady passed him the boss's lunch and simply told him to "remind Grimm-kun to eat his veggies", all the while flashing her saccharine-sweet smile reminiscent of a mother and promised to give the redhead extra portions as he was (to quote her again) "such a darling". Not that he was complaining about that.

Back in the meeting room, Grimmjow snapped out of his boredom-induced stupor when one of his employees finally did come up with an actually USABLE idea, and after much discussion, he did no longer feel like firing them anymore, much to the relief of the employees. Two hours of arduous effort in NOT trying to fall asleep (on Grimmjow's part) finally did pay off, and the boss quickly dismissed his workers for lunch—which they more than gladly obliged. Taking off his glasses for the millionth time for that day and massaging his temples, he wondered idly how is his PA managing at the moment. While he COULD have handled the tasks himself, he simply was too lazy to especially handle the madman in R&D—so he sent Ichigo instead.

The boss deftly gathered his files, put on his glasses and left for his office, excited for his lunch.

Kurosaki Ichigo had a scant 5 minute headstart to prepare the boss's meal—opening the cartons, preparing the utensils—before Grimmjow entered the room looking rather worn-out for someone who was not running around the building doing chores. The teal-haired man's face lightened up considerably—even affording a smile—when he saw Ichigo in his room. And his lunch ready.

The PA was glad he did manage to complete the task—it felt like forever for something so simple—but he was surprised when the boss's face suddenly showed a hint of disappointment, though his appetite said otherwise.

"Anything wrong, Gr..uh, Jeagerjaques-san?"

The man stared at him for awhile, sighing a little before gesturing at his still-empty mug.

"Ah, don't mind me if I accidentally drown in my soup—you see, you kinda forgot my coffee, Ichi."