Woohoo. After going back and revising, voyeur Grimmy ended up not being in the last chapter, but I forgot to edit out in the intro. MY BAD.

I break Orohime's viewpoint for just a sec, in cause you're confused about that part in the middle.

Oh, and thank you all for the lovely reviews!

My subconscious, it seems, is determined to break me.

When I'm nice and safely miserable, waiting like a princess in a tower for the knight to get his damn self here, I get dreams that leave me speechless and floundering, more confused than anyone should ever allowed to be.

Now, when I want answers and resolution? Nothing.

Morning's gray light leaves me with no new chapter, no new revelation. I groan, and pull myself up.

The light is paler than usual, in a place that lacks color to begin with. I've slept well, for once, but my eyes pound against my skull.

It seems that even in Hueco Mundo, they have something resembling Mondays.

"Woman?" A cautious knock at the door. And then, an uncharacteristic pounding sound.

"You don't have to ask like you're her mother, man! She's the prisoner. You know what means? We own her."

Oh, lovely. The Grimmjow seems to be in accompaniment.

The door is flung open, and Grimjow walks in. He wears a wild, impatient grin.

"Wh…why are you here?"

Grimmjow swings around, a tight circle of energy. "I am here, girl, because some maniac or another has gone a little crazy out there on the training grounds, and there is blood everywhere, and thus not available. I am also here because I damn well feel like it. Any questions?"

"No. No sir."

Ulquiorra is watchful of this exchange. Wheeling the cast over, he asks, "Food?"

"Yes, please." He moves over, Grimmjow hovering behind him. I feel protected, and I don't whether or not to find it strange or not.

Scratch that. I'd feel protected by a hollow if it provided any barrier between me and the blue-haired maniac.

Usually, the plate stays on the cart, and I eat it from there. But today, he places is gingerly on my lap. His fingers brush my knees, and my heart catches a tiny bit, even though the cloud of fear.

I bow my head a little, as I eat, letting my hair fall around my face in a curtain. It might look like submission, but it's not; Grimmjow is blocked out, but Ulquiorra hovers in my vision. That's better.

For once, I finish too quickly. I hand the plate back, and then regret it. I'd like to feel his cool touch again.

Grimmjow is leaning against the wall, starting at the ceiling in utter boredom.

"Done here, Ulquiorra?"

"I suppose that I am." Grimmjow pulls himself upright, and beckons Ulquiorra to follow him. Ulquiorra looks to me, nods a quick goodbye, then follows.

"You balless bastard." Grimmjow punches the wall, rocketing it into the flat gray walls.

"Excuse me, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra's voice goes tense.

"You know what I'm talking about, coward. The girl. You're acting like she's not even there. She's a woman, for god's sake. The only one within these walls not armed to the teeth."

"I don't know what your saying."

Grimmjow hisses. "You need me to spell it out for you? Take some liberties. Are you genuinely that clueless?"

"I was under the impression that such things were only in the domain of low human beings."

"You obviously know nothing."

"That may be true."

"I'll have to show you, then."

A slam, and the back of Grimmjow's head it thrown against the wall. "You will not hurt her."

"I won't now, hmm? Any reason why?"

"You know Aizen will…."

He laughs. "Aizen? Aizen has bigger things to deal with than her. I'm telling you, if I was to go ahead and…"

"You will not."

A smile. In a teasing tone, he says, "Aah. That's how it is then. You're just afraid to make a move?"

"I still do not know what you're talking about, you lowlife."

The 6th only responds with a smile. "Whether you have an actual heart or not is debatable, Ulquiorra, but no one is completely dead below the belt."

"You are vile."

"Don't be so high and mighty, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow spits, and walks off.

Ulquiorra is left with a trace of something cold and heavy weighing on him as he strides away from the lonely cell.

I lean back, a straight line with my neck cracked back to the ceiling, and a smile curls to my lips.

I can't shake the images of his emerald eyes, with the pale light flitting in and out, from my mind. Or the angle of his face, architectural and smooth. The contours of his lips.

I feel my cheeks burn a little. More than a little. I slide on my side and bury my face in my elbow.

It should be a few hours before he returns.

Might as well be a few years. But then again, I'm used to waiting.

I made Grimmjow into such a meanie here, but I usually like him. His hormones are getting to him, is all.

Cliffhanger no jutsu?