CHAPTER 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

The stash house was a mess.

Tousen looked around, astonished. When Yammy had given him the news of the robbery, Tousen hadn't really expected it to be this fucking bad. The two leather couches in the living room were overturned and shredded until they were almost unrecognizable. The coffee table was on its side. Paintings that had decorated the beige walls were on the floor, and whole sections of the off-white carpet were ripped away. Tousen stuck his hands in his pockets and silently counted to ten. If just the living room looked like this, there was no telling what condition the rest of the apartment was in. Anger twisted and bubbled inside him, demanding its way out, but miraculously, Tousen managed to keep a lid on it.

Barely.

"How the fuck did this happen, Yammy?" he growled.

Yammy shrugged extremely wide shoulders and shook his head. "I jus' got here not too long after I called you."

"Who was in charge again?"

"Ace was s'posed to be out front, Chuck and Boot inside."

Tousen glared at Yammy, wondering how the idiot could just stand there and be so fucking stupid. "Did it ever occur to you that if those three weren't dead when you got here, then it means they had somethin' ta do with the robbery?"

Finally, a glimmer of understanding passed over the giant's face. Tousen whirled on his heel and stormed outside the apartment onto the front porch, where he quickly scanned the block. Of course, the three in question were missing. Tousen bared his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. By all rights, he could kill Yammy for the man's stupidity. He wouldn't even be punished for it, either. All Tousen could do was stand there and stare across the street, not really paying attention to the fiends passing back and forth. Not even noticing the black Ford Explorer parked halfway down the block. He was too busy worrying about how he was supposed to tell Aizen-fucking-Sosuke that a stash house under his watch had been knocked over. About how he couldn't let Yammy's mistake slide, even though the giant was the closest thing to a friend Tousen would ever have.

Grimacing, he reached for the gun nestled at the small of his back as he turned and dipped inside the apartment again. "Dammit, Yammy, you dumbass," he growled.

Yammy didn't even know what hit him when Tousen put two bullets in his head.

XOXOXO

Shinji had Shiro's pale left leg over a shoulder as he drove himself in and out of the man's tight opening.

"Yeah, Shin," the albino moaned breathlessly, strange eyes squeezed shut.

Shinji smirked as he pulled back and slowly rolled his hips, mercilessly teasing his lover. Shiro's nails dug into the skin of Shinji's shoulders as he threw his head back and howled. God, Shinji loved that shit. He leaned forward and put his mouth next to a pale ear, then lowered his voice to a growl.

"Like that?"

"Ungh! No, ya bastard!"

Shinji's smirk widened as he rolled his hips again, grinding slow and deep. "No?"

Shiro moaned lavishly, then opened fiery eyes. "Shin, ya know I hate when ya do this shit! Jus'...ahhhh...f-fuck me."

Shinji ran a hand over Shiro's tight abdomen, caressing his lover's taut pelvis, but not quite going for gold like Shiro wanted. He nipped the albino's ear before gently nuzzling the soft skin right behind it. At the same time, he rolled his hips yet again, slow, filling Shiro with his entire length.

"Yer such a lousy tease," Shiro mourned, eyebrows pulled together in frustration.

Shinji had had about enough playing himself. His orgasm had been steadily building for the past five minutes, and he'd only resorted to teasing his boyfriend because he'd wanted to make the sensation last a tiny bit longer. Playtime was officially over.

He hoisted Shiro's leg a little higher up on his shoulder and got a good, firm grip on the albino's nearly desperate erection. He braced his weight on his free hand and allowed his hips to take control. The pace turned firm. Hard and fast. Both of them were breathing like they'd been shot in the chest, but damn did it burn so good. Shinji rested his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck and gritted his teeth. Shiro always got super tight when he was about to come, and now was no different. Shinji decided to speed things along since he was toeing the edge of that pleasure precipice and not too sure how long he'd be able to last. He tugged on Shiro's twitching length once. Twice. Three times.

That was all she wrote for the younger man.

Shiro erupted all over Shinji's hand and even on his own belly. But the best parts had to be the expression he wore and the delicious sounds he made as he reached climax. It was a mixture of a long howl and a moan fit for a whore house. Absolute perfection in Shinji's opinion.

The tight fit around his dick almost made him cringe, but instead, he grinned through the slight discomfort and found the ecstasy buried beneath it. Then, everything went stark white before turning pitch black. He was instantly exhausted, heart pounding relentlessly. The grin spread as he sank on top of Shiro and nosed the pale column of the man's neck.

"I'm sleepy," he slurred.

Didn't help that he'd had an entire pint of Remy to himself a couple hours earlier.

Shiro huffed and rolled his head in Shinji's general direction, eyes hooded. "Lazy fucker," he grumbled.

The words were completely antagonizing, but the languid amusement in the albino's eyes sapped all the intended heat from them. Shinji chuckled and closed his eyes. "Whatever ya say, babe. I don' even got the energy ta argue."

"I love it when yer all mushy an' shit." Shiro lay in silence for a few more beats before sucking his teeth. "Ya think I c'n have mah leg back?"

Shinji cackled this time as he carefully let Shiro's leg slide to the bed. "Fergot."

Shiro groaned and turned into Shinji's side, long arm draping over Shinji's shoulders. They didn't say anything for a while, so Shinji drifted in and out of sleep. The peaceful lulls after sex with Shiro always led to some of the best rest he'd ever had. But of course it didn't last very long.

It started with Shiro's fingers combing through Shinji's hair. That was nothing new. Actually, it felt pretty good. Then, the thoughtful sighs began. Shinji's shoulders slumped as he recognized the warning signs of Shiro having something on his mind. What the hell now?

"Jus' fuckin' spit it out," Shinji grunted, eyes still closed. Shiro chortled, obviously nervous. That got Shinji's left eye to crack open. Something was definitely up. "You gonna talk, or do I gotta drag it outta ya?"

Again with the uneasy laughter. "It's nothin' bad."

"Yer makin' me think otherwise," Shinji growled, both eyes open and head lifted from his pillow.

"Relax. I was jus' gonna say I registered fer school yesterday."

Shinji paused, speechless. Of all the things he'd been expecting his boyfriend to say to him, that certainly hadn't been one. School? What the hell had brought this about?

"Uh..." he said.

Shiro laughed before sobering and kissing Shinji's damp shoulder. "Was that a good 'uh', 'er should I be worried?"

"I'own know what ta say."

"Yeah, I noticed the absence of yer usual smart ass."

Shinji smirked and threw an arm around Shiro's waist as he tugged him closer. "I think I like that idea, though," he started. "Long as ya don' try an' get all high an' mighty on me."

The albino snorted and buried his face into Shinji's chest. Shinji's smirk widened when he realized his lover was blushing and trying to hide it. A slow warmth spread outward from the blond's gut to his fingers and toes. One might think he'd be used to having a special someone in his life by now, but sometimes he still caught himself staring at Shiro in awe. Sometimes he wondered why such a genuinely good guy wanted anything to do with him. A gangster. A thug. A delinquent. It was baffling, but thrilling. Made him feel like he was actually worth something.

Words weren't much required after that, leaving Shinji to his wandering thoughts and Shiro to his slumber. The pale man had fallen asleep not even three minutes after he'd cuddled into Shinji's chest.

XOXOXO

Gin stared at The Man and tried his hardest not to fidget. Only, it wasn't that easy with Javier Yasutora watching him like a hawk. Well, the older man wasn't really watching him that closely, but the sharpness of those olive-green eyes made it seem like the guy was.

"Take a load off, Gin. Where's Genevieve?" The Man asked, reaching for the cigar smoldering away in a crystal ashtray in front of him.

Gin nodded and sat on one of the wicker chairs surrounding the small patio table. They were out back – their usual meeting place. It was so quiet, Gin was able to hear the crickets chirping from the bushes beyond the perimeter of the large, rectangular swimming pool. The water jets gurgled, and the ice cubes in The Man's short glass of brandy shifted. It was all very intimidating, but Gin was used to it.

"'Vieve's wit' Crystal."

"Ahh, I see. Well, since you're here, I suppose I don't have to inquire about tonight's job."

It wasn't really a question, but Gin figured he'd still answer. Just to be on the safe side.

"Yeah, everythin' went fine."

"Good. I have a favor to ask, Gin."

"Anythin'," Gin answered as soon as the words left The Man's mouth. "Ya don' even gotta ask, Sir."

The Man gave him a fond smile before taking a careful puff from the fat cigar between his fingers. The background noise filtered in again as Gin watched The Man mull over what he wanted to say. When Gin had first encountered The Man's thinking process, it had thrown him off. He'd thought he was in trouble at the time, until the older man had explained to him that he liked to think about what he was going to say before actually saying it. It made his words have more impact, he'd said. Gin agreed.

The Man blew smoke through his nose and settled his gaze on Gin once more. "I need you to find someone, and bring him here to see me."

The silver-haired man smiled. "Tha's easy."

"I'm not so sure."

Now, that was a first. Normally, The Man put his utter faith in Gin's abilities.

"Who's the guy tha's gotcha thinkin' I can't handle 'im?"

The Man chuckled. "I never said that. In fact, I'm sending you alone because I think you're the only one that can handle him. I'm just giving you a little warning in advance. He's a bit...scrappy."

"Oh, I get it now," Gin said, relaxing his suddenly tense shoulders.

That was the last thing he wanted. He'd worked too hard to gain The Man's trust to have it turned aside at the first sign of real trouble. Well, actually a true test of Gin's skills. But now, he was really flattered and humbled. The Man could have sent his son, Sado, in Gin's place, and the fact that he didn't spoke volumes of the trust Gin had earned. Warmth tingled through his veins as Gin tried not to dance with joy. As it was, he had a hard time stifling the grin full of pride that stretched across his face.

"So, when do I go see this guy? And who is he?"

The Man reached into the breast pocket of the short-sleeved button-up shirt he wore and withdrew a photo. He slid it across the table and went back to puffing on his cigar, while he apparently waited for Gin's assessment. Gin took the picture and stared at it. He'd seen this guy before and "scrappy" wasn't the word he'd use to describe him. More like "dangerous show-off."

"Ya want me ta bring this guy here?" he asked.

The Man grinned and nodded. "I take it you recognize the face."

Gin absolutely could not hide the blank stare he gave his employer. But that was only because asking something like that was like asking if the President had a bodyguard.

"A'course I recognize him. I remember his partner too. Real junkyard dog, he was."

"That's good. I'll leave finding him to you. Will it be a problem?" The Man asked, eyes curious and solemn.

"Nope. When ya want 'im here?"

"A matter of hours."

That was really pushing it, but Gin refused to let The Man see him sweat.

"Alrighty," he mumbled and rose from his seat.

When he reached the patio door, The Man said, "I know you won't let me down, Gin."

Gin nodded, heart beginning to race. What The Man was asking of him was a huge task. It might have even been impossible to anyone else, but Gin was resourceful and stubborn. Two traits that made it rather easy to get him whatever he wanted. He left The Man's house with a sense of anticipation and excitement. He always did love a good challenge.

XxxxxX

The light on the porch blinked on a minute after Gin rang the bell. He could've picked the locks, but felt being polite would make the situation go more smoothly. He shoved both hands in his pockets as he listened to the stairs creaking beyond the front door. He was really hoping this wouldn't get ugly, but the man he was there to see put the word "feisty" to shame. A lock was thrown and the knob twisted a second before the door swung open. Bleary brown eyes stared back at him, though narrowed from the glare of the porch light.

"Can I help you?"

Gin arched a brow. Well, this wasn't who he was here to see. The kid looked like he was in his early twenties, had bright orange hair and a fierce scowl.

"Mah, sorry ta bother ya, but is Mr. Hirako here?" Gin asked.

"Who?"

"Hmm...Slim?" he tried.

The kid arched a brow and shifted his weight. "Look, I think you have the wrong house or something."

"Mahh," Gin uttered, confused. Then a light bulb went on over his head. "Maybe ya know 'im by Shinji?"

Recognition lit the orange-haired kid's eyes a second before suspicion filled them. "And you are?"

"Ahh, ya c'n tell 'im I'm a friend a'his. Name's Gin Ichimaru."

"Um, OK."

The kid disappeared up the stairs, leaving Gin rocking back on his heels, hands still in his pockets. He didn't hear anything for a while, so he turned to face the street and lit up a cigarette. Shinji Hirako AKA Slim had the personality of a peacock carrying a loaded machine gun. He was a show-off, proud, but ridiculously smart and agile. Not to mention, his partner and best friend was the epitome of bad-ass motherfucker. Gin had heard a lot of disturbing rumors lately about the blue-haired gang member, but until he saw proof, he wouldn't believe any of them.

The stairs creaked again, drawing his attention back to the door. His wide grin was a force of habit, so he understood why Shinji looked at him like he'd lost all of his mind.

"I was curious, ya know?" the blond started, left hand slightly hidden behind his left thigh. "Since I ain't got no friend named 'Gin Ichimaru', I wanted ta see who the fuck ya were. Now, I'm pretty convinced. I don' know ya, so why ya here?" he asked as he brought the hidden hand up in front of him.

In it was a Heckler and Koch gun.

Gin continued to grin. He'd been expecting that at the very least. In fact, he was grateful Shinji hadn't started shooting first.

"An' it better be good," Shinji snapped.

Gin observed the blond gangster and snickered. Shinji's hair was a mess, mussed and tangled on one side, and he only had on a pair of dark boxers. In short, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. Considering the hour, it made sense.

"Heh," Gin chortled. "Mah, I got no beef witcha."

"Let me decide that."

Gin nodded and lifted his hands in peace. Then, he pointed to the cigarette situated at the corner of his mouth. Shinji nodded with narrowed eyes. It was clear he wasn't letting Gin do anything that might result in any sudden movements. Gin removed the cigarette, took one last pull and tossed it. After he exhaled, he gave Shinji one of his rare serious expressions.

"My boss wants ta see ya. He asks, an' it's mah job ta do."

Shinji's frown remained, but his mouth quirked to the side. "The fuck is yer boss?"

"Javier Yasutora," Gin answered proudly.

A blond brow flew up in amusement. "Never heard of him."

An epic stare-down ensued. Gin wanted to draw his own weapon at Shinji's flippant remark, but remembered his purpose for being there in the first place and decided otherwise.

"He says he's got somebody ya need ta talk ta 'er somethin' like that."

"Not much of an errand boy, are ya?" Shinji quipped.

Gin's eyes slitted open as he glared at the man before him. "Mah, I came here all nice and quiet-like. Don' piss me off."

The two continued giving each other scary eyes, until Shinji smirked and lowered his gun. "I don' like pushovers, Gin. Glad yer not."

"Yeah, well..."

"So, how do I know this ain't a trap 'er somethin'? I don' know this Yasutora guy or you. How'm I s'posed ta trust ya?"

"It's called faith, friend," Gin said with a sideways grin.

Shinji gave him a long look before shrugging and glancing off the porch. "I don' got that no more."

"Well, I figured ya might be hes'tant 'bout comin' wit' me, so my boss gave me a lil somethin' ya might call initiative. He wants ta talk ta ya 'bout yer old leader, Starrk." That sharpened Shinji's brown eyes. Gin's grin spread. "Says he's got somethin' ya need ta know 'bout him."

Shinji averted his gaze again, jaw clenching as he studied the street. After a small eternity, he turned back to Gin and nodded.

"Lemme put some clothes on."

XOXOXO

"Where's Hal?" Tatsuki asked from the driver's seat of the SUV she'd borrowed.

Her green-haired friend grinned and leaned over the back of the head rest. "She went to dump all that bullshit we snagged. We're splittin' the money, though, right?"

"Duh, Nel."

"I'm jus' sayin'."

Silence reigned as they waited for some type of movement from the house they were watching. Tatsuki sat beside Yoruichi, who was leaning against the passenger window, yawning with boredom. Nel was bored too; Tatsuki could tell by the way the woman asked stupid questions and fidgeted like a toddler. Tatsuki wasn't too happy about the inertia, either, but if they wanted to drive the nail home in their plan, they had to be patient.

"The big one's really dumb," Nel said as she fiddled with the radio dial.

Tatsuki chuckled. "Yeah, he is. I can't believe he didn't put two and two together."

"There's what's-his-face," Yoruichi commented, nonchalant.

All eyes focused through the windshield as a dark-haired man stood on the porch of one of the nondescript houses on the block. He ran a hand through his inky tresses before trotting down the stairs and heading to a silver sedan. Once inside, he started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. Tatsuki waited a bit before starting the truck with a wide grin and following behind the man. She exchanged excited glances with the other occupants of the SUV. This was what they'd been looking for. All they needed to know now was where this man spent most of his time, where he did business, and who he did it with. Then, they could make their move.

"He doesn't look that tough ta me," Nel grumbled from the back seat.

Yoruichi giggled as Tatsuki sucked her teeth in response. "In that case, we don't look that tough, either."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about. Me and Hal look hella tough."

"Nel, you look like a high school cheerleader. I'll concur that Hal looks plenty tough, though. 'Specially when she scared the crap outta those three kids. I thought they were gonna shit themselves," Tatsuki cackled, carefully switching lanes on the main road.

She kept a few car lengths back from the silver sedan, but made sure it stayed within her sight. As she drove, she thought about the conversation she'd had with her uncle the night before.

"I don't know specifics, Tatsuki," Jyuushiro said quietly.

They were seated at his kitchen table, but the atmosphere was anything but its usual comfort. It was tense and filled with silent grief. Tatsuki couldn't stand seeing her normally smiling uncle so sad.

"So, you don't know for sure who killed Starrk, then?" she asked.

Her uncle sipped tea from the mug in his hand and shook his head. "I don't. I'm not sure I'd want to, either."

"I hate ta ask, but what do you know about what happened?" She was trying to be gentle, but that was impossible when the death of a loved one was involved.

"There was a massacre of that rival gang, the Bloods. Starrk and his people went to Blood territory and started a war. He was killed in the crossfire. It's rather simple."

"Yeah, but how did this all start? I know Starrk had ta mention somethin'. He trusted you with his life, Uncle Jyuu."

Jyuushiro took a slow, heavy breath, obviously fortifying himself, and gripped his mug of tea with both hands. His dark brows were drawn together, deep brown eyes sad and focused on the table.

"It started with his enforcer. Well, actually it started a long time before the kid even became Starrk's enforcer. Starrk was pretty cool with the kid's father, but they split ways when the guy got into drugs. The kid didn't know about his father and Starrk being friends, but Starrk was determined to see the kid taken care of. It's a really long story, Tatsuki. Why are you so interested anyway?"

Tatsuki's eyebrows had reached the ceiling during her uncle's short speech. Was a coincidence like that even real?

"Um...that's crazy," she muttered, still numb with disbelief. "That enforcer was sorta seein' my friend before he was killed."

"Killed?" Jyuushiro asked, clearly shocked. His eyes were wide and filled with panic. "How? Starrk was trying to prevent that!"

"I don't know the details, but it might have had somethin' ta do with that war they started."

"This is madness."

Tatsuki, on the other hand, was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her uncle's boyfriend had had such a history with Ichigo's dead blue-haired lover. Still...

"What else do you know, Uncle Jyuu. I might be able to figure somethin' out."

"Figure something out" had been right. After what her uncle had explained to her, Tatsuki had an idea of exactly what was going on. The players in the game were huge, and the stakes were incredibly high. After she pulled into the parking lot of a modest apartment building, she shut off the SUV's engine and grinned back at Nel.

"Gotcha," she sang.

"Jackpot," Nel added, smirk sinister and mile-wide.

Now, the game would get even better.

Next time...