Searchlight- 7

"Oniiii-chaaaan!" Yuzu's cry carried over the phone and made Ichigo instantly alert. He dropped the shoe he was putting on and clenched the phone in his hand. She was always so sweet natured and it was rare to hear her sound upset about anything.

"Yuzu, what's wrong?"

"Your deeeeeeaaaaad!" she wailed dramatically. "How could they let you die?!"

Oh no. Ichigo nearly groaned as he cursed his stupidity. He'd totally forgotten that the episode where Cole died was scheduled to air tonight even though he'd promised himself he'd be there with her when it did. "C'mon, Yuz," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "You know they'd never let that happen."

"But I saw it and it was horrible. And so sad. What about Dante?" She sucked in a sharp breath. "How is Grimmjow taking this?"

"It's okay. He's fine. I'm fine. It's just a show, Yuzu." Ichigo made a face at Grimmjow who was sprawled on the couch across from him rolling his eyes. He was sweet to Ichigo's sisters, Yuzu especially, but it didn't stop him from giving Ichigo a hard time.

"I am aware that it's a television show," Yuzu said primly. "I just don't like seeing you hurt, even if it's just pretend."

Suitably chastised, Ichigo sighed. "Of course you do. But don't worry. It'll be okay."

"Will they fix it? Was it just a dream? Or maybe a vision of the future that you can avoid? Oh, oh! I know!" Her voice brightened with excitement. "It's an alternate reality!" She continued peppering him with questions, her tone eager now rather than worried or angry. He was glad she was considering the possibilities rather than dwelling on what had happened during the episode.

"You know I'm not supposed to tell you," he said, his tone teasing. "Just keep watching. It'll be okay, I promise."

"Okay," Yuzu said quietly as she tried to hide her dissapointment. She might have continued asking but they'd discussed the confidentiality clauses in his contract before. She'd still wonder but wouldn't try to wheedle information out of him after he'd said he couldn't tell her. Sighing in defeat, she changed the subject. "Are you coming home for dinner soon? You should bring Grimmjow over again."

Letting a smirk pull at his lips, Ichigo looked at Grimmjow in a way that made the other man blink almost nervously. "Sure. I think it would be a great idea for Grimmjow to go fishing with dad." He laughed when Grimmjow paled and his eyes widened. He got along well enough with Isshin but could only stand him in small doses. The prospect of spending hours in a boat with him seemed to be terrifying.

Yuzu giggled. "Grimmjow's listing right now and you're messing with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Couldn't help myself. We'll see you Saturday."

"We?" Grimmjow asked cautiously as Ichigo hung up.

"Dinner at my dad's place."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to figure out if he'd just been maneuvered into something he'd regret later. "And the fishing?" he asked cautiously.

Ichigo let his grin widen and enjoyed the way Grimmjow shifted in his seat. "Oh, c'mon. He's always so sad that he has to go by himself all the time."

"Ichi, you know I think your dad's great but. . .fishing?" He rolled the word around in his mouth as if he weren't quite sure of the taste. "There'd have to be a lot of drinking involved."

Ichigo let him squirm for a few moments before finally letting him off the hook. "Of course, he also complains that he never has any time to go which is why he doesn't even have fishing poles anymore."

Grimmjow glowered. "You can be such a prick sometimes," he muttered.

"You love it."

After a few moments, Grimmjow shrugged and stretched his arms out along the back of the couch a lazy smile pulled at his mouth. "Can't argue with the truth. Everything okay over there? She sounded kind of shrill when you first picked up."

"The episode where Cole died just aired. I was going to be there to soften the blow but I totally forgot. I'm such an ass." Ichigo sighed and rubbed his forehead before going over to stare out the window.

It had been a couple of days since he'd gotten the creepy flowers and he wasn't really sure how to deal with it. The whole thing was distracting enough that he was having trouble keeping track of things. But he had trouble maintaining his worry as he was turned around and a pair of muscular arms wrapped around him. He was lifted up off the floor.

"I like your ass," Grimmjow murmured into his ear as he started carrying him back into the bedroom.

"Don't you ever get tired?" They'd spent the weekend at Ichigo's place, mostly in bed. Ichigo chuckled despite himself as he wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's waist. He knew that the other man was most likely trying to distract him from his worries. He didn't want to ignore everything but he had trouble piecing together a coherent thought as a hot mouth latched onto his neck and started trailing kisses down toward his collarbone. Grimmjow laid him down on the bed and slid his hands under Ichigo's ass and squeezed.

"I've always got a little something extra for you."

Ichigo laughed again but it quickly turned into a moan as Grimmjow kissed him and thrust his tongue into his mouth. Ichigo slid his hands up under his lover's shirt and massaged his lower back along his spine. Breathless, he broke away for a moment.

"Hey, I was trying to get ready and go grocery shopping," he huffed.

"The store will still be there when we're done." Grimmjow yanked Ichigo's shirt up and off before leaning in to latch onto one of the redhead's nipples.

"Ah, o-okay," Ichigo stammered as his brain finally fogged up completely. He'd only managed to get one shoe on earlier and he toed it off before kicking it across the room. Then they were all busy hands and hot mouths. The touching and waves of sensation rose and crashed, making them both sigh. When they were finally momentarily sated, Ichigo lay back and let his heartbeat settle. "Gonna need another shower before I go out."

Grimmjow tightened his arms where they wrapped around him. "You really need to go?"

"Unless you want something more than melba toast, mustard, and capers for dinner, yeah. That's pretty much all I've got."

"Melba toast and capers?" Grimmjow wrinkled his nose. "What the hell do you have those for?"

"Remember that cooking with the stars thing I did a few weeks ago?" Ichigo shrugged. "They were in the backstage gift basket."

"And you tell me my agent is a moron," Grimmjow muttered.

"Hey, it was fun. And you really liked that stuff with the lamb when I tried the recipe at home." Slipping out of the other man's grip, Ichigo headed toward the bathroom. "You're not exactly all that picky when it comes to television appearances yourself, you know."

"I said no to that wilderness survival reality thing didn't I?"

"Only because you love indoor pluming too much."

"I don't view that as a character flaw," Grimmjow said, his tone flat. "And besides, those guys are morons. I mean, jump roping through an obstacle course in the woods while blindfolded? C'mon. That's just bullshit. I'm an actor not a trained show dog."

Ichigo's laugh trailed out of the bathroom over the sound of running water. "So you're just going to sit around in front of all those people next weekend without showing off at all? Now that's bullshit."

Next weekend? What the hell was he talking about? Grimmjow grabbed his phone from the bedside table to look at his calendar. "Oh, shit. I totally forgot," he muttered darkly.

Ichigo came out with a towel hitched loosely around his hips. "You must really be off your game then. You've been looking forward to the convention for weeks."

"It's not really that important," he said offhandedly. He had been looking forward to it but now he wasn't so sure. There would be a lot of people there. "Look, maybe we should skip this year."

"We're not cancelling," Ichigo snapped in sudden irritation as he glared at Grimmjow. The other man glared right back.

"Last year was packed and it's only going to be more crowded this time." They'd been a no-name cable show when they'd signed up for their first Sci-Fi convention and hadn't drawn huge audiences at the time. But the show's ratings had more than doubled since then and some of their fan base was pretty rabid judging by the blogs and sites Grimmjow had looked at online.

"I'm not hiding just because someone sent me some creepy letters and a vase of flowers."

"You'd rather be stupid instead and parade around in front of somebody that could be gunning for you?"

Ichigo stalked over to his closet and yanked out some clean clothes without saying anything. His temper was suddenly spiking and the next thing out of his mouth would only make things worse. It took some serious self control to ignore the heat building inside him that had nothing to do with arousal. His emotions were starting to roil uncomfortably and he really wasn't in the mood for a fight right now. But before he could storm out the door, Grimmjow was up off the bed and catching hold of his wrist so he could pull him back.

"Look, we're not done talking-" Grimmjow broke off suddenly when Ichigo's eyes flicked dangerously from Grimmjow's hand to his face. There was a hot fury in his gaze that was startling.

"Let. Go." The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

Grimmjow carefully released him, spreading his fingers and taking a step back. But he took a risk and placed himself in the doorway to keep him from leaving. "Be angry with me if you want to," Grimmjow said calmly even though his own temper was flaring. "But I want you take this seriously."

"You think I can't take care of myself?" Ichigo spat. "You think I need you to protect me? I hate to break it to you Grimmjow but I've been taking care of myself for a long freaking time. Every damned day of my life, I had to defend myself from idiots that came up with excuses to gang up on me. Fists, rocks, tasers, knives. It was all fair game to them. The only reason I survived school is because I fought back and made them realize what a bad idea it is to fuck with me. One deluded fan is not a problem."

Grimmjow blinked at him in surprise before his eyes flicked to Ichigo's left side. The scar was hidden under his shirt but he knew it ran up the redhead's ribs from his side almost all the way to his sternum. Since Searchlight managed to feature Cole with his shirt off as often as the producers could feasibly get away with, it had been written into the character's back story. But when Grimmjow has asked Ichigo about it the first time, all he'd gotten was an evasive answer. It hadn't been all that important at the time so he'd left it alone. But now he had to wonder. Grimmjow knew from past discussions that Ichigo got into a lot of fights as a kid. It was one of the things they had in common. But he'd never realized how serious it had gotten for him.

Ichigo caught him looking at the scar and huffed softly. "Yeah. That's how I got that one."

They stared at each other quietly for several moments before either of them moved. Then Ichigo closed his eyes as Grimmjow's hand came to rest gently over the scar. The heat from his fingers soaked through the fabric of Ichigo's shirt, making a connection that he'd started to forget in the heat of his anger.

"Look, I don't want to fight anymore." Ichigo's voice was extremely quiet. "But I need to go out for a little bit. Every time I stay safely inside, it will get a little harder to leave until I've trapped myself with my own fear." He opened his eyes to see Grimmjow watching him. "Do you understand?"

Grimmjow sighed heavily. "Not completely. But I think I get it." Or he thought he did. Ichigo sounded like he was speaking from some painful experiences that didn't necessarily have anything to do with a stalker. "Just. . .be careful, okay? There's some seriously crazy people out there."

The corner of Ichigo's lips twitched. Just a little. "Yeah, well. I deal with you on a daily basis so I've got some practice."

Grimmjow grinned. "I'm not crazy, just badass." It earned him a tired chuckle.

"I'm just going down to the corner store to pick up a few things and get some takeout." Ichigo held up his phone. "And my battery is totally charged."

A few innuendos popped into Grimmjow's mind but even though the tension had been relatively diffused, the timing didn't feel quite right. Instead, he stepped aside and sneered slightly. "Just don't get any of that vegetarian crap again."

"It was just once," Ichigo muttered as he shook his head and picked up the single shoe he'd kicked off earlier. "It wouldn't kill you to lower your cholesterol intake, you know."

"I am a happy carnivore," Grimmjow replied as he went over to pick up his pants. He watched Ichigo head into the other room to put on his shoes as he tugged his jeans on. He really hoped that the letters had just been from some harmless nut job. But Grimmjow had a bad feeling. He'd have to check on the security at the convention before they did anything. He wasn't taking any chances.

In the elevator, Ichigo quietly watched his dim reflection in the stainless steel wall of the compartment. He hadn't felt that kind of rage in a long time. It hadn't been that bad even when he and Grimmjow had started working together and they fought constantly. Maybe he was more on edge about this whole thing than he thought. He walked to the corner store without incident. This wasn't a really expensive neighborhood but Ichigo had always considered it relatively safe. He found himself brooding in the produce section so intently that when someone spoke behind him, he whirled and dropped the orange he'd been holding.

"Whoa. Somebody needs to switch to decaf." Shirosaki stood watching Ichigo with a strange expression on his face like he was amused but not quiet convinced that he wouldn't bite. He picked up the dropped orange and set it aside before selecting a less bruised one and held it out to Ichigo. "You okay?"

"Uh, sorry. Just a little jumpy, I guess." Ichigo took the orange gently and eyed the pale man curiously. "Why are you here?"

Shirosaki held up a basket filled with bags of chips and candy. "Munchie attack."

Ichigo winced at his own rudeness. It wasn't his business what he was doing here and he wasn't sure why he was asking. But he'd never seen him in the area before. "You live around here?"

"Naw. Just visiting." A smug grin stretched across Shirosaki's face. Thinking of how he'd been flirting at the restaurant, Ichigo could just guess what kind of visit it was. Not that that was any of his business either. Shirosaki didn't seem to mind. He tilted his head a little. "You look a little stressed. Wanna go for a beer or something? I'll buy. Got my first check from the studio today."

Ichigo blinked at the offer in mild surprise. "Um. Not tonight. But thanks, maybe some other time."

"Sure, no prob." Shirosaki seemed unfazed as he smiled at him. "Can't wait for tomorrow. Looking forward to kickin' your ass."

Ichigo blinked again and frowned before he remembered that they'd be working with Ikkaku on some fight scenes in the morning. "Sure, see you on the set," he muttered before heading over to the counter where his takeout order was waiting.

Shirosaki peered at him curiously as he followed him to the register. "You seem a little tweaked. You sure you don't need a drink?" But when the he eyed the size of the order, his grin returned. "Oh, never mind. You apparently already have company. Enjoy your night then." With that, Shirosaki paid for his things and headed out of the store while whistling something cheerful.

Ichigo stared after him and it took the cashier three tries to politely get his attention. Tearing his eyes away from the albino, Ichigo paid for his order and the groceries. There had been something extremely suggestive about the way he'd said that last part, like he'd known exactly who was waiting for Ichigo back at the apartment. But that was just way too paranoid. Shaking his head, he gathered up the bags and headed home.

When Ichigo got back to his apartment, the scent of soap tickled his nose and he could hear dishes clinking. Grimmjow was in the kitchen standing at the sink full of soapy water.

Ichigo's brows rose. "You're doing the dishes?" he asked with a pointed look at the dish washer that sat quiet and empty.

Grimmjow shrugged without looking up. "Needed something to do." Which was odd. Grimmjow hated washing anything and only did it when there was nothing else clean to use.

Ichigo set the bags down on the counter and sighed. "This whole stalker thing is really bugging you, isn't it? Or are you still wound up about you dad? He didn't call you or anything did he?"

"Yes, maybe, and no." Grimmjow rinsed the last dish and set it in the rack before draining the sink and wiping his hands. He stared at the dish towel and clenched it in his fingers as he struggled to find words. "We've argued before. And when we first met it was seriously dicey for a while. But we've never really fought before. Not like that."

Ichigo knew what he meant. They had fought and even been angry about it but it had always been relatively superficial stuff. There was an edgy ugliness to what had almost started in the bedroom earlier and it still lingered uncomfortably between them. Ichigo was a little surprised that Grimmjow was the one to step up and admit that something was seriously wrong first. He'd been prepared to not talk about it and have it hover in the background until one of them finally snapped.

"I know." Ichigo took the towel and hung it on the small towel rack in front of the sink so he could take Grimmjow's hands. "I'm sorry about earlier. I've got some issues. . ." He paused waiting for a sarcastic remark but didn't get one. Grimmjow was watching him patiently which was almost worse than having him get all irritated or or angry or smug. Ichigo took a deep breath. "But I'm not really sure how to talk about it."

"You don't have to." Grimmjow squeezed his hands as one corner of his mouth quirked up. "But my therapist used to say it's bad to keep stuff like that bottled up. It leads to aggressive emotional outbursts."

Ichigo's own mouth twitched in wry amusement. "Therapist?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I've got anger management issues. Had to take a class and go to a few sessions."

Ichigo couldn't let himself give in and say something sarcastic now. Not when Grimmjow was being so understanding. Instead he just waited with a small smile. He wasn't going to push either. After a few moments, Grimmjow squeezed his hands again let got to start pulling things out of the bags.

"It was expensive bullshit mostly but occasionally she said things that weren't completely stupid." He got bowls and chopsticks out and took them over to the living room so he could lay everything out on the coffee table. Ichigo felt strangely hesitant as he followed him and came to stand next to the couch.

"I don't like being protected," he said softly as he tried to keep the old pain and frustration from his voice.

Grimmjow glanced up, his expression still patient. "I figured that." He titled his head a little. "What the hell kind of schools did you go to anyway?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It wasn't the schools. It was the people in them. Mostly they tried to jump me on the street." He chuckled a little bitterly. "And then I'd get mouthy and things would go downhill from there."

Grimmjow's smile turned sly. "I like your mouth."

The comment earned him a smile and he relaxed a little bit. He'd spent the whole time Ichigo was out pacing the apartment until he'd finally made himself do dishes to keep himself busy. He was worried about the letters and quietly brooding about the aftermath of the fight. Grimmjow almost wished that they'd started swinging because it would be easier to handle and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked him.

Grimmjow sat poised on the couch with a box of takeout in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. He'd been staring blankly at the coffee table. Looking over, he saw the redhead sitting on the couch next to him with a worried expression on his face.

"Mostly." He took in a deep breath and blew it out. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little freaked out after all. I. . .I usually don't give a damn what happens to other people. You're the first one in a really long time."

Ichigo moved closer and leaned against him. The admission sounded raw and genuine. Ichigo had spent most of his life hiding his problems from everyone so he wouldn't worry them. His family didn't even know how bad it had gotten for while. He'd always been different. While he'd had close friends that were supportive, there had been many others who had hated how different he seemed. Growing up gay had been hard at the best of times and sometimes, the hate had gotten dangerous.

Isshin might have suspected something was up since some of the injuries had been severe enough to be hard to hide. But he'd never confronted Ichigo about any of it. He'd just supported him when he went away to college and then on to acting. Ichigo almost felt like he owed him an apology somehow. He thought he'd left all those memories and pains behind. If something like this happened at work and got in the way of his job, it could be a problem. Maybe But like he'd told Grimmjow, he wasn't quite sure how to talk about it. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and changed the subject.

"I saw Shirosaki earlier at the store. Felt kind of weird."

Grimmjow grunted in response but didn't say anything as he grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV.

"You got a problem with him already? I thought you were past all of that."

"Not a problem really. He just. . .I don't know. Rubs me the wrong way, I guess." Grimmjow's eyes flicked over to him. "And he really does look a lot like you. It's weird."

Ichigo thought about the strange golden eyes and shivered a little. "Yeah. It's weird." Shaking himself, Ichigo slouched into the couch. "Are we okay?"

Grimmjow snorted and shot him an intense look. "Of course we are. You piss me off but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up or anything."

"Just checking." Ichigo forced himself to relax. He was already being difficult about not going public with their relationship. He didn't want to make Grimmjow think it was all more trouble than it was worth. Letting his mouth quirk up in a small smirk, he prodded him with is elbow. "But I suppose I shouldn't worry," he said thoughtfully. "There aren't many people who put up with you when you're being an ass like I do."

Grimmjow shot him a baleful look over a mouthful noodles, daring him to go on.

Ichigo just grinned and shrugged. "I like your ass."

They both laughed.

. . . . . . .

The next morning, Ichigo was at the studio early. Grimmjow wasn't on call until later in the day and the only other people in the building were the stage manager who was always here this early and a couple of electricians who were arguing quietly about how to rewire and old console. Ichigo had been slacking on his workout routine lately and he'd come in to work through a few routines to get warmed up before working on the fight scenes for the finale. He stood barefoot on the practice mat in a pair of loose black pants and a white tank. He hadn't exactly slept terribly the night before but there had been enough dreams to make it less than restful. Cycling through the movements, he let the familiar glide of his muscles soothe his frazzled thoughts and frayed nerves.

"Woo." A smooth, impressed whistle rang in the space. "Somebody's some few moves."

Ichigo continued the last move and finished without looking at the newcomer before he relaxed and finally turned to see Shirosaki come out from behind the corner of nearby set piece. He was wearing a pair of white jeans, white kicks, and a pale grey hoodie. Ichigo shrugged dismissively. "I've had a few classes."

The albino was grinning at him. "Should I be worried?"

"Have you ever done any stunt fighting?" Ichigo asked him, once again wondering how he'd managed to get the job in the first place.

"Nah. The whole TV thing is totally new." Shirosaki rolled his neck, popping the joints casually as he linked his fingers and stretched his arms out in front of him. "But I can scrap like a bastard."

Ichigo watched him go through a few stretches and noted how light was on his feet. He shifted his balance in an easy, practiced way that looked almost instinctive. Ichigo had seen him mostly undressed before and knew there wasn't an extra ounce on him. Training or not, he looked like he'd be hell in a fight. But that might not be all that helpful here. He shook his head.

"Stunt work isn't the same as fighting for real. It's completely different."

Shiro grinned again. "Yeah, I know. I'm not really supposed to put the beat down on ya."

Before Ichigo could reply, they were interrupted by the flapping sound of Ikkaku's flip-flops. The bald man came around the corner, eying them both speculatively before his eyes settled on Shirosaki and narrowed dangerously.

"Don't you freaking forget the difference or I'll wipe the floor with you, Newbie."

"Aye, aye, captain." Shirosaki saluted him solemnly, the effect marred slightly by the smirk pulling at his lips. Ikkaku snorted. "Just what we need, another smartass." He shrugged as he tossed the wooden practice blade he habitually carried down on top of his duffle bag. "I suppose it couldn't be much worse than Kurosaki and Jaegerjaques back in season one."

"For real?" Shirosaki's pale brows went up. "I thought that was just publicity bullshit."

"Are you kidding?" Ikkaku's brows rose dramatically. "During episode eight when Dante was possessed, they practically tried to kill each other."

Ichigo grunted noncommittally, not wanting to talk about it. He'd almost forgotten about the incident entirely. He and Grimmjow had gotten into an argument earlier that week about something stupid and filming the fight scene had gotten a little out of hand. By the time Ikkaku and Iba had finally pulled them apart, Ichigo had a sprained wrist and a bloody lip. Grimmjow was suffering from a mild concussion and enough bruises to make him sore for more than a week. But despite how bad it had been at the time, Ichigo found himself smiling now.

"That episode was awesome. You guys were totally waling on each other." Shirosaki chuckled. "So it's true that you and Grimmjow had some serious hate on when the show started."

"Like a couple of pissed off cats," Ikkaku muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Ichigo shot him a flat look before turning back to Shirosaki and shrugging again. "Yeah, it was pretty bad for a while."

"You guys seem to have gotten over it though. I mean, your acting is pretty good, but you guys aren't that good. No offense or anything," Shirosaki said as Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "But Dante and Cole get along way too well on screen for you guys to still be harboring that much angst off camera."

"True enough," Ichigo admitted. "Ultimately, it wasn't worth it. We decided to be more professional about working together."

Shirosaki eyed him speculatively for a moment. "Riiight," he said quietly.

Ichigo kept his expression as neutral as he could manage as he went to pull out the blocking notes Ikkaku had given him for the scene. If the albino was trying unnerve him, it was working but he wasn't going to let him know that.

"Dude," Shirosaki said, through a cackling laugh. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ichigo turned to see Ikkaku tiptoeing across the mat doing his "Lucky Dance" and couldn't help smiling a little himself. The stunt coordinator was weirdly superstitious and never stepped on the mat before completing the ritual. Ichigo had thought it was weird at first too but now it just managed to make him laugh every time.

"Laugh if you want to," Ikkaku said with haughty expression as he finished with a flourish. "But the one time I didn't do it, Blue and Strawberry made our insurance rates go up."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" Ichigo huffed, more irritated by the nickname than being blamed for the rise in production expenses.

"Stupid censors keep messing with my choreography because it's too dangerous. Crap like that gives them more reasons to bitch." Ikkaku clapped his hands. "Get your shit together, kids. The planning I've done for next season is some of my best work and it starts with the Season Three finale. If the two of you can manage pull all of it off, it will make episode eight look like a sissy slap fight."