Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserves belong to Tite Kubo

Warnings: Language, OOCness (but I don't think there's such a thing as being OOC in AU, but hey), and err, that's it!

Okay, to recap what has happened, Kisuke threatened Grimmjow and Ichigo's relationship,

and then immediately got pwned by Grimmkitty.

Ichigo fled the scene of the crime, Grimmjow had a little confrontation with his ex Ulquiorra,

and…the weekend has just begun. Mwahahahaha.


When Ichigo got home, he growled his frustration to the empty space, wishing that Renji or Rukia was there so he could vent his frustrations. Then he remembered their problems…and decided that he was happy Rukia was still in class and Renji was still at work. His problems paled in comparison to theirs. What really mattered here was that he could keep his job and help support his best friends growing family. He didn't know what to do about all the other stuff, but he wasn't going to stress himself out this weekend, he was going to pump himself up for the start of his new job. They were really going to start recording on Monday, he should be excited. Instead his stomach was full of butterflies. He took off his shoes in the genkan and padded into their tiny bathroom. The black and white checkered tiles were icy cold, even through his socks and he shivered as he looked at himself in the cracked, streaked mirror. Because of his nerves he had a fierce look on his face, and he tried to fix it into something livelier and excited looking, but he just ended up looking constipated and he stopped immediately.

He actually ran a comb through his difficult orange hair and washed his face. He looked a little better, but his chest still felt tight, like someone was sitting on it. Ichigo glared at his reflection, trying to discern some sort of meaning from the depths of his own chocolate brown eyes. The orange haired man was so mesmerized that he swore he jumped about a mile high when the phone rang from the bedroom. He had wanted to do something about the terrifying look on his face but he never had a good poker face, in fact his emotions and facial expressions were rarely ever aligned. He hoped that he could get his act together before Monday or he'd definitely be fired, no matter if Grimmjow was nice to him. The voicemail picked up before he got to the phone and the sleepy voice on the other end made him grit his teeth. After listening to him make small talk for a few moments he snatched up the phone.

"What do you want Starrk san?" Ichigo growled, getting even more annoyed by the sleepy chuckle on the other end.

Coyote Starrk was something like a maid dispatcher, and he was the one who basically assigned jobs. And if he was calling personally, that meant very very bad news. And he really wanted to enjoy the weekend, so much for that. "Good evening to you too, Kurosaki chan." Starrk paused a moment, as if waiting for Ichigo to rise to the bait, and then continued on, "You know… your record is impeccable, Kurosaki chan. You've never gotten anything but compliments from your clients, and you've never been fired…so I'm wondering if you'd be willing to take on a very difficult job specifically for this weekend. It's of the utmost importance."

Ichigo's interest was piqued, very slowly he said, "Who's the client? A big name or something?" He heard the sound of papers being flipped and he waited anxiously. What if it was like a big name actor or something? Or maybe a really rich tycoon. He chewed on his bottom lip while he waited for Starrk to answer.

"Well…apparently you're going to have to figure that out on your own. They'd rather not let outside people know that they require our services. Must be a big shot… a really picky one by the sounds of it, I immediately thought of you." Then there was a long drawn out sigh. "If the answer is yes, get a piece of paper and a pen and write down this address…"

An hour later, Ichigo was riding a bus to the north side of Karakura Town, a large duffel bag of company cleaning supplies at his feet, and his hands folded neatly in his lap. He was studiously ignoring the heated stares of a man sitting across the aisle. The afternoon sunlight glinted off of the man's thick glasses, and he found himself glaring at the back of the bus drivers head. He just wanted to get there as soon as possible. He was curious and nervous at the same time. He shifted his body away, embarrassed by his uniform, and turned his glare on the perverted old man who was practically drooling as his eyes ran up and down his fishnet stockings. In a terribly disgusting way, that look reminded him of Grimmjow. He wondered if the bluenette was sitting at home, thinking of him. His cheeks heated at the thought, hos presumptuous. Grimmjow probably had a lot more on his mind than Ichigo. The bus shuddered to a stop and the old man got off, finally, leaving Ichigo alone with his thoughts.

"Hey, do you mind if I turn on the radio?" The bus driver called back to him, looking at him in the mirror. He shook his head, and tried to force a smile on his face. "Oh…hey you okay? Your face looks kinda…contorted." Ichigo sighed and shook his head, letting his face relax into a scowl. He was a lot more comfortable that way anyway. He just hoped that whoever his employer was wouldn't take his scowl as open hostility. He'd rather seem distant than contorted. He knew he wasn't exactly a looker but god damn. That had to be one of the rudest things anyone had ever said to him. Although…it probably wasn't meant in an offensive way.

The music that blared through the speakers was anything but what he'd been expecting. It was one of those stations that only played rave music/ Euro-trash. The kind that all the girls in his high school had liked. The kind they could sing to, but he still had no idea if they were even speaking a language used by normal humans. It was so high pitched, and fast paced they sounded like little chipmunks. He couldn't stand it. He glared out the window, watching the city flash by. It got noticeably better the farther they got from Ichigo's apartment and he glared disdainfully at the big shopping mall. It was exactly the kind of place he couldn't afford to shop at. And he'd always wanted to. He sometimes just walked around in one, and looked in all of the stores. He touched things, he scowled at the price, and he left. After a while of that, the store clerks stopped asking him if he was looking for anything specific and just straight up started saying 'If you're not going to buy anything, sir, please leave." Now he made a pilgrimage to the nearest mall once every year. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been to one yet this year. Maybe he'd go and look around on his way back. If it didn't take too long. He glanced at the time, he thought he was making good time today. It was only four o' clock in the afternoon.

The bus came to a stop, and people filed on, while Ichigo picked up his bag and trudged off, nodding to the bus driver, who's scowl matched his own. He turned off his funky music and nodded back to him. Ichigo looked down at the crumpled piece of notebook paper in his hand. He wasn't too far from the address, thankfully. He chewed his lip as he looked at the huge, pristine houses around him. There were sakura trees along the sidewalk with little fences around them, and bright green well-manicured lawns with tasteful lawn ornaments and rose bushes on them. He started walking while he continued to look around him. He probably looked like some kind of lost stripper or something, but he didn't care, he was awestruck by the high class people, he'd imagined himself in their shoes countless times while cleaning. He watched a man about his age kiss his wife good bye and get in his sleep black expensive sports car in his perfectly tailored expensive looking suit and he couldn't help but feel jealous. What life decisions had that man made that set him apart from Ichigo? He stopped at the correct house and stared for a moment. This house was a bit different from the others, it was just as beautiful if not more, but this one seemed…less lived in. Like the person had only been there a short while and hadn't had time to really decorate or personalize yet.

He walked up the short cement drive, skirted the sleek dark green car and tentatively rang the doorbell once. After a couple minutes he rang it again, furrowing his eyebrows. Starrk had informed them that he was coming right? It wouldn't have been a problem if they'd left a key somewhere, or gave one to the company. But he understood why they wouldn't want a breach of security like that. He wouldn't trust his apartment key to some stranger either, but he'd definitely let them in. Ichigo growled and rang the doorbell again conscious of the looks he was getting. He knew exactly what he looked like, and he really didn't like it. He started knocking on the door more forcefully, and sighed with relief when the door opened. A pale white arm reached out and pulled him inside with an incredible force and shut the door behind him, his duffel bag of cleaning products still outside. He came face to face with Director Ulquiorra Cifer.


His emerald eyes were on fire, and his mouth set to a hard line. His pale, delicate hands were on the door behind him, his arms pinning him directly in his sight. He was angry, no…more like furious. His own scowl hadn't disappeared and he found himself in a stare off with the man for a good couple of minutes.

"What the hell did you think you were doing showing up to my home in that ridiculous getup?" He asked, his words shooting venom. Ichigo's scowl deepened, while he fumbled for an answer. "You really should think more about your image and mine, in a situation like this. This is not the kind of publicity we want for you or for our television drama."

Finally Ichigo found his voice. "I hadn't really thought about that…I didn't even know it was your house I was going to…if I had I defiantly would've dressed more presentably." He found himself trying to smile and forced it down. He didn't want to look like he was trying to take a crap on his floor too. Man, was this feminine little man pissed or what. His expression hadn't changed at all, but his eyes were blazing. He wondered if his first evaluation of him was entirely wrong. For some reason he found the Ulquiorra standing before him a lot easier to relate to than the one from the audition. He'd seemed cold and detached before, but he found the Ulquiorra now…almost cute.

Ulquiorra pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his large emerald eyes for a moment. "You didn't know this was my house… which means that you normally go to people's houses dressed like this?" His eyes opened again and he looked at Ichigo, with something akin to dawning horror, although his mouth was still a set line and his expression was the same, Ichigo knew what he was feeling. He was like Ichigo, he couldn't quite get his emotions and his facial expressions aligned. "Wait a minute, don't tell me your like some freakish kind of daytime whore or something. That's very very bad for publicity."

Ichigo shook his head, horrified. He wondered how he'd jumped to that conclusion. "My day job is a maid, not a whore. Oh god, I-I swear I haven't even been with that many guys before. In fact, I haven't had a healthy relationship in my life. Er…no that came out wrong." Ulquiorra made a chopping motion with his hands, his expression cool again.

"This conversation is over. If you had explained yourself earlier I wouldn't have been jumping to two or three different conclusions. I'm sorry." Ichigo scowled, you don't look very sorry, he was tempted to say but instead he opened the door and dragged in the duffle bag. He rolled up his sleeves a genuine smile on his face.

"Apology accepted, Director Cifer. Now, what do you need me to do?" Ulquiorra stepped aside, and allowed Ichigo to look around for himself. And he was appalled by the look of this place. He'd expected Ulquiorra to be…tidier. This place was covered in a thick layer of dust there were footprints in the dust that settled over everything, after glaring at the enormous work load he had ahead of him he realized it wasn't dust, it was soot. The orange haired man found himself glaring at Ulquiorra. He tried to lighten his expression some, but he couldn't. "I'm sorry…I had this image of you in my head that just shattered into a million pieces."

Ulquiorra looked over at him, his expression still cold, but he gave off the impression of a cat lying its ears flat. "It hasn't always been like this, it was pristine before my acquaintance Szayel came over and did some 'experiments'. This is a very long story whose ending is my toaster being blown up and this terrible soot settling over everything on the first floor of my house. There's going to be some people coming over to shoot some scenes on Monday and I refuse to have this mess here when they do." His emerald gaze flicked down to Ichigo's bag. "I assume you brought cleaning supplies. Can I expect you to start immediately?"

Ichigo bowed deeply from the waist, "Yes, Director Cifer." Ulquiorra nodded and walked away while Ichigo got to work.

And work he did. He worked for three hours straight before Ulquiorra interrupted him. He looked up from what he was doing; blinking in confusion when he realized that it was starting to get dark outside. He'd gotten in the zone, cleared his mind of everything else but the job at hand. It had been awhile since he'd gotten to do something as therapeutic as this. Grimmjow was just too tidy. He half wished he didn't have to go there when he was finished. Ulquiorra seemed mildly impressed with his work, Ichigo himself had to admit that he'd done a very good job in this short amount of time.

"You know, I may not look like it, but I'm really impressed with how much you've gotten done. They really did send me their best didn't they?" Ichigo felt heat flood his cheeks as he bowed.

"Thank you very much Director Cifer. I-I'm really happy that your pleased with the job I've done." And then he cocked his head to the side. "I have a confession to make." He said, looking sheepishly at him. "At the auditions I thought you were really cold and unfeeling. But you're really not." Ulquiorra seemed stunned silent, so he continued. "Actually you're really cute, Cifer sama."

Ulquiorra scoffed. "I would hardly say that I was cute, but it's true, I'm not a robot." He said, looking like he might smile. Ichigo knew what it was like to have people misunderstand his emotions. He always seemed angry, and in middle school people had been afraid of him because of his near constant scowl. Which was how he and Renji had become friends. He'd been one of those people who could sort of see through his emotions. After that, Rukia had become his friend, and a lot of others. All he needed was someone to reach out to him and tell him 'I understand'. It was that that had given him the confidence to pursue acting. And he loved it with a passion. He was lucky enough to live for his work, not working to live.

Ichigo smiled serenely at Ulquiorra. Cleaning had managed to clear his mind, and he found that he felt a lot better, he even knew what he was going to do about Grimmjow. It was him, that blue eyed devil, that had made him able to show emotions like this even when he wasn't acting. And he decided that he wasn't going to let anything extinguish that. He packed up his cleaning supplies and hugged Ulquiorra, happy to have made a decision. Ulquiorra didn't return the hug but when Ichigo pulled away he found that a corner of his mouth was twitched up into a smirk.

"Thank you Ulquiorra san." He said warmly, picking up his bag and walking to the door. He'd gotten about one third of the cleaning done today, and he had all of tomorrow to do the rest. Ichigo's original nervousness had drained away with the hard work and revelation about his feelings. Yeah, he liked being with Grimmjow, and he would have to go over a few speed bumps to stay with him, but he'd make it work, he'd have to. As presuming as it sounded, he didn't want his smile to go away again. And that fiery electric blue haired man was the key to it.

Ulquiorra stopped him, with a very delicate touch on the shoulder. "Would you like me to drive you home?" He asked, very stiff and formal all of a sudden. To Ichigo, that meant he was embarrassed. He smiled and nodded like a fool, totally forgetting about having to go over to Grimmjow's to clean.

"Oh actually, I have another job to go to…so I can't." He said, apologetically. Ulquiorra looked him up and down dubiously. Or at least Ichigo thought he was, his eyes flickered over Ichigo's outfit, the rest of him not moving an inch.

Ulquiorra's lips pressed together in a flat line. "You really expect me to let you go outside at night…in that." He stiffened even farther, and Ichigo wanted to squeal. Ulquiorra was a tsundere*! "I couldn't allow something to happen to the star of our drama." He said, and then took his keys off of the hook by the door and slipped into his shoes. Ichigo didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so he just went along with it, and let Ulquiorra drive him to Grimmjow's apartment building. It wasn't too far from Ulquiorra's house actually, they were both in the better part of town. Ulquiorra got pricklier and pricklier as they approached the building, and by the time they got there, he seemed downright deadly. "You have business in this building?" Ichigo nodded and gathered up his things. "You…be careful, there are weird people living in this building." Ichigo bowed deeply to him before picking up the duffle bag and trudging inside.


Grimmjow paced his living room, venting out all his anger and frustration to Nnoitora, who was lounging on his couch wearing only his boxers, listening to him while playing with Pantera. He told him everything, about Kisuke Urahara interrupting Ichigo and Grimmjow's reunion, about Ichigo leaving, about seeing Ulquiorra and everything going down the drain, and then…that awkward revelation about his feelings for Ichigo. He didn't know what the fuck was happening to him, and he didn't like it.

Meanwhile, even though every so often Nnoitora would make sympathetic noises , he was sure that he wasn't even listening anymore. And yet he still rambled on, and on and on. He stopped when someone unlocked the door. Grimmjow strained his ears, trying to catch another sound. Was someone breaking in? Nnoitora was very suddenly standing next to him, holding Pantera out at arm's length a huge piano like grin on his face.

Grimmjow furrowed his eyebrows and glared at him. "Why are you holding her like that?" He asked, taking his cat into his arms. He heard the door open, followed by a weird rolling/rattling noise.

"I was gonna throw her at the robber. That could by us some time to get some real weapons to take his ass down." Grimmjow grumbled 'Or some time for you to put on some pants'. The very orange haired man he'd just been raving about walked in, in his cute little maid outfit, and Nnoitora's jaw practically dropped to the floor. "I didn't know you hired a stripper, Grimm." He grinned ferally. "You really do care about me." Grimmjow elbowed him hard in the ribs and covered his friends eyes.

"If you had been listening to me, you would know that this is a strawberry, not a stripper." He pushed Nnoitora into his room and closed the door. "Stay in there until I tell you to come out." Grimmjow said and then stalked over to Ichigo, wondering if he was here to break up with him. If they were even going out in the first place. Were they? He wasn't sure. Maybe he was here to quit his job, or something. He'd seemed pretty pissed when he'd stormed off.

Instead Ichigo flashed his angelic smile and said, "Do you actually have a mess for me to clean or just the coffee pot as always?" There seemed to be some sort of ulterior meaning to his words that Grimmjow couldn't quite discern. But he was just happy he was back. The bluenette chanced a hug and groaned when Ichigo immediately melted into his arms.

"Hey! Don't be having fun without me!" Nnoitora called from his room. Ichigo jumped back, blushing like mad.

Ichigo whispered, "Who was that guy?"

Grimmjow wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist and brushed his lips against Ichigo's ear and murmured, "You really don't want to know."


*Tsundere is a person who is sort of cold on the outside and even colder to people they have feelings for. I think tsundere's make the cutest uke's ever.

Sorry, feels like it's been decades since I updated this. I read over the past few chapters, and...wow, their pretty terrible. I'm gonna rewrite them before continuing on.

Write me a review to let me know things I can improve. (In a way that won't make me want to stab you in the neck with a fork)