CHAPTER 11: OUT OF TIME

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Gin ran a hand through his hair and absently muttered to himself as he studied a scroll containing a new spell he'd been working on. It was meant to give the recipient extraordinary healing abilities, but so far, it only lasted for a minute at a time. Gin sighed disgustedly, frustrated that he was getting nowhere, and he knew exactly why he was unable to focus. He glanced over his shoulder at the beautiful, green-haired, Elorian princess, noting that she was hovering just behind him, her big, wheat-gray eyes wide with childish wonder.

"Did you need something, Princess?" he asked, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice.

It didn't quite work.

The princess blushed and toyed with her fingers, none the wiser to Gin's annoyance. "N-no, not really. I was just curious. I've never met a sorcerer before," she whispered, voice small and...disturbingly cute.

Gin grimaced and turned back to the scroll. He didn't wish to be rude and shoo her away, but her presence was alarmingly distracting. The unmistakable warmth of a too-close body singed his back through his robes, making him whip his head around to see what the girl was up to. She had inched closer to him, her abundant breasts dangerously near to molesting his shoulder. Swallowing, Gin rubbed his chin as he resumed perusing the scroll and did his best to ignore the girl, but, sadly, it proved fruitless.

Gin swiveled around in the chair, his movement rather abrupt. He'd only meant to face her fully, but instead, his swift action made her topple over into his lap, her soft curves pressing firmly against him. He inhaled sharply, refusing to move an inch, for fear of doing the wrong thing and touching the wrong place on her younger body. The princess gasped and covered her mouth in surprise, too astonished to leave her spot. Gin really tried to keep his mind from flinging itself into the gutter, but, well, he was a male and the princess was very much a female.

She fit into his arms and lap like she was created specifically for that purpose and when she gazed up at him, large, breathtaking eyes wide and shining, he had to force himself not to close the miniscule space between their faces and sample her lips with his own. She smelled like something sweet and airy and it was altogether driving him insane. He wanted to drive his thin fingers through that mass of silken-looking, green hair as he did things he was sure no other man had done to her. Her cheeks flared, turning them a charming pink as she stared up at him, her face unconsciously inching closer and closer to his. Gin gripped the arms of the chair he was seated in and slit his eyes open, making the princess emit a soft sound of revelation.

Gin knew that he had strange eyes that seemed to change color with his mood. He didn't know if it came from the abundance of magic flowing through his veins, or just an inheritance of genes. Normally, they were an icy, crystal blue, while during times of anger or annoyance, they turned a deep, scarlet hue. It was precisely why he kept them squinted shut most of the time. He never wanted his emotions to be readable in the face of an enemy or stranger, which was why he'd learned at an early age to hide them, and now, the princess was studying his eyes like she'd just discovered a new species.

"Oh my," an amused tenor sounded from the doorway of the small room they were ensconced within.

Gin almost shoved the poor princess from his lap at the sound of his uncle's voice. As it were, she scrambled from her perch like Gin was on fire, drawing a chuckle from his blond uncle. "Uncle," Gin stated, trying his hardest not to sound as if he'd just been caught stealing.

Kisuke alternated his gaze between Gin and the princess, dark eyes hidden beneath a green and white hat, and behind a paper fan. "I came to ask if you needed something to drink or eat. You've been in here for hours; it's three in the morning," he replied.

Gin shook his head in the negative automatically, then thought better of it as his throat stuck together, parched. "I'll have some water, actually."

The princess began edging her way towards the door, but Kisuke stopped her with a glance. "Nel, you don't have to leave on my account! Stay! I insist," he said in a rush before sweeping from the room and closing the door behind himself.

Gin rubbed a hand over his eyes, wondering just what his uncle was thinking. On second thought, he already knew. The scene Kisuke had walked in on had been incredibly incriminating and if he'd been his uncle, he would be thinking the same thing: that there was definitely something occurring between himself and the princess. He didn't want to assume anything, but the way the princess had been staring at him gave him the impression that she was, at the very least, somewhat interested in him.

He grinned wolfishly.

She was one year away from officially being accepted into womanhood.

He supposed he could wait until then, he thought with one last glance at the green-haired princess, who was watching him with a fierce blush.

XOXOXO

Someone was knocking on the door.

Grimmjow rolled over just enough to peer over his shoulder and glare at the door. His keen senses kicked in and he could smell Nnoitra's unique scent coming from the other side. Grumbling under his breath, he wondered what his tall, best friend could possibly want during the time that everyone usually slept.

Grimmjow slowly registered the warmth in his arms and smiled broadly when he turned his eyes to the orange-haired man sleeping beside him. He dipped his head and nuzzled Ichigo's temple, savoring the feel of his satiny, spiky hair, and their mingled scents. Grimmjow sighed and kissed his forehead, heart and chest filling up like a tea cup.

He was in love with Ichigo.

He thought that just the thought of it would send him into hysterics, or at least make him cringe, but instead, he was engulfed in a pleasant, tingling heat. He hated sounding so sappy, even in his mind, but there was absolutely no way he could run from, or deny what he was feeling for Ichigo. Now, all he had to worry about was telling him. That thought did make him cringe. He wasn't too keen on rejection and he would never admit aloud that he was completely terrified of telling Ichigo that he loved him, only to be subjected to a reaction similar to Ichigo's initial one to Grimmjow's first confession. His skin crawled and his blood turned to ice.

What if Ichigo didn't like him like that? What if it was only sex for the other man?

Grimmjow carefully removed himself from Ichigo's iron grip and rolled out of the bed, mind in turmoil. He didn't know what he would do if Ichigo rejected him. Not after what they'd just shared a few hours before. He licked his lips and searched the room in the dark for his underwear, his eyes easily adapting to the blackness. He went to the dresser and retrieved a pair of hunter-green boxers, slid into them and slowly made his way to the bedroom door, all the while trying to guess what Nnoitra could want.

When he opened the door, Nnoitra stood on the other side, his face devoid of its usual wide, piano key-toothed grin. His pale face was slack and rather serious for a change. The only difference was that he was without his cloth that usually hid his left eye from the public. Grimmjow briefly examined the long, thin scar that sliced through his left eye, rendering it permanently shut and damaged, before letting his gaze travel over his friend's naked, wiry torso and down to the black boxers that made him resemble a bamboo reed.

"We need ta talk," he said quietly, quickly glancing over Grimmjow's shoulder and into the bedroom.

Grimmjow nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him, then pointing towards the sitting room, where they both trooped, trying to make as little noise as possible (which wasn't very hard), and took a seat on the couch, Grimmjow absently noticing that Neliel was still missing. Maybe she was with Kisuke. "What's the problem?" Grimmjow asked.

Nnoitra eyed him intensely before sighing and running a hand through his long, black hair. "Me an' Shinji were talkin' the other day. Jus' normal shit, I guess. Then, he starts talkin' 'bout Ichigo and how they grew up tagether. Not my business, so I was kinda tunin' it out, til he said Ichigo's got two sisters and his mom is dead," he explained, ending his speech with a pointed look in Grimmjow's direction.

"What? That's nothing terrible. You say that as if-"

"Ya fergot what Kisuke was talkin' 'bout earlier, already?" Nnoitra snapped, frowning in disapproval.

Grimmjow scowled and studied the floor and his bare feet. He knew there was something he was supposed to remember, but his brain was still in the other room with Ichigo. "Just tell me," he finally growled, frustrated.

"The thing 'bout the royal family of Eieren havin' a king, three kids an' a dead queen. If Ichigo's got two sisters and his mom's dead, then-"

"Wait!" Grimmjow interrupted, throwing his hand into the air as he glared at his best friend. "You can't just assume things like that, Nnoitra. It's dangerous and there's no way to tell if it's true or not."

"Tch, ya go ahead and keep yer head in the sand if ya want. That ain't a coincidence. Kisuke didn' wan' Shinji ta hear him sayin' that 'bout the Eieren family, not ta mention, he's got Ichigo livin' in his buildin'. Grimm, I know ya ain't dumb, so stop actin' like it!"

Grimmjow sat in silence, contemplating all that Nnoitra had just told him. It was too coincidental to not be true, but he couldn't afford to make assumptions like that. Besides, wouldn't he be able to tell if Ichigo was Fae, like himself? Then again, he hadn't been able to tell with Kisuke until the man had spoken in their language and basically revealed himself. Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

Was Ichigo a fairy?

If he was, Ichigo himself certainly wasn't aware of it, judging by his previous behavior to them when Kisuke had finally deigned to explain the existence of their kind.

XOXOXO

"Szayel, are you certain this will lead to the Elorian prince's current location?" Aizen asked, staring at the dark void a few paces in front of him.

Szayel nodded, his expression one of barely contained exasperation. "Yes, Aizen, Sir. This is where the majority of the prince's reiatsu accumulated, so it would stand to reason that this is where the last La Garganta was opened," he replied, his voice a bored drawl.

Aizen coolly resisted the urge to snarl at the pink-haired sorcerer and instead, turned to his general and second-in-command, who flanked him on either side. "Ulquiorra will go through first; I will follow. Szayel, you and Tousen will bring up the rear. I don't foresee any human being able to withstand our joined forces, let alone mine in itself."

Ulquiorra bowed in acceptance before gripping his sword, the emerald-green hilt shining brightly. He moved to the void, his face and deep, green eyes empty of emotion, and stepped into the endless darkness. Aizen watched anxiously, hoping that nothing would go wrong and that he would be able to find the Elorian prince as soon as possible. He didn't want to linger in another dimension filled with nothing but worthless humans and their numerous offspring. The thought alone disgusted him and made him force down a shudder.

When Ulquiorra made no noise of shock, and there was also no sound of a struggle, he moved forward and stopped right before entering La Garganta. He shifted his gaze to the pink-haired sorcerer and gave him a look that clearly conveyed what would happen should Szayel decide to betray him, or try something else equally foolish. Not that Tousen would allow such a thing to occur, but one never knew with a sorcerer.

"You have my permission to kill anyone who opposes me," he stated before turning and heading into the darkness.

The abrupt blanket of black caused a slight feeling of vertigo and discomfort, making his reiatsu flare and envelope him. He refused to show any weakness, even in such an environment, so he forged ahead, his hand going to the sword at his hip. He doubted he would need it, but he'd brought it along just in case. He lived by the saying "it was better to have and not need, than need and not have." It was infinitely true for many things in life and he'd made sure that all of his followers and servants adhered to the same rule.

The dark seemed to go on for much longer than he liked and just as he was starting to get annoyed and anxious, he heard loud talking from ahead. Grinning secretly to himself, he quickened his pace until he spied an opening in the darkness, light and foreign objects in plain sight. He quietly stepped through the end of the void, which had opened up like a set of giant teeth and was greeted with the sight he had been aching to see.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, the blue-haired Elorian prince, wearing nothing but a small, green pair of some type of cut-off pants, chest bare for him to enjoy.

His entrance into the small, strange-looking room, halted all conversation, no matter how loud it had previously been. All eyes turned to him and he studied them with an air of aloofness that even exceeded his daily amount. Ulquiorra had a very tall fairy seated on the floor, his back against the wall and his right, slitted eye locked on the menacing sword pointed directly at his throat, his left shut, due to a paper-thin scar slashing through it. His right eye sported a cut above the brow and his bottom lip was split and bleeding. One move and Aizen was sure that the tall fairy knew his life would cease to exist. The Elorian prince, Grimmjow, stood staring at him before darting his gaze to the tall fairy and Ulquiorra, his dazzlingly blue eyes wide with astonishment and disbelief.

Aizen grinned again. "Grimmjow, I presume?"

Grimmjow glanced in his direction again, eyes narrowing with suspicion and mistrust. "I don't know you, so how is it you know my name?" he growled and his deep voice made Aizen shiver with delight.

He could already imagine the things he had planned for the Elorian prince.

"I am Aizen."

A brief silence descended, where the only sounds were the heaving breaths coming from the tall fairy on the floor. Then, all of a sudden, there was a startled shout that Aizen could only describe as one of recognition. Aizen glanced over at the source and found the tall fairy staring at him with so much hatred and malice, had he not been the strongest being in existence, he was sure he would have withered up and floated away in the breeze.

"You!" the tall one snarled, his upper lip curling back with disdain. "Yer responsible fer all a'this!"

Grimmjow whipped his head around to stare at the tall one in shock, his words obviously having an effect on him. "What the fuck are you talking about, Nnoitra?" the blue-haired prince snapped, his shoulders tensing.

Ahh, Nnoitra, huh? If Aizen remembered correctly, his surname was Jiruga, and if he further remembered correctly, his family had been traitors to the Elorian kingdom. So, how then was he here with the prince?

"Fuck, Grimm, dontcha remember shit? Kisuke and Gin were talkin' 'bout this guy! He's the coward that killed off our people, tried to kill us and did kill...your parents."

The change that immediately came over Grimmjow was frightening. Glowing, blue eyes turned in his direction and blazed like a bonfire. "You?" he choked, anger keeping his throat tight and face blank.

Aizen nodded, proud to have rid their dimension of the disease known as the Elorian clan, especially the king that had so callously killed his family and people. "Yes," he stated calmly.

He easily read the taut muscles that indicated Grimmjow was about to lunge, so when the blue-haired prince did, he was prepared for it. Grimmjow came at him swiftly, hands curled into claws as he sprang for Aizen's face. Aizen sighed sadly, upset that he would have to hurt his future pet, but what needed to be done, needed to be done. He stepped out of Grimmjow's way and in two blink-of-an-eye movements, he drew his sword and forced the hilt into the prince's belly, making him double over in pain and shock. Aizen guessed Grimmjow hadn't been expecting to be defeated so effortlessly. One more ready chop to the back of the prince's neck, rendered him unconscious and completely immobile, allowing the prince's figure to fall heavily into his arms.

The tall fairy that had been on the floor, the Jiruga, had leaped to his feet in the short span of confusion, his voice thunderous and panicked. "GRIMMJOW!" he screamed as he too lunged towards the lifeless body of his friend.

Aizen didn't even bat an eyelash because Ulquiorra stepped in and ran his sword through the Jiruga brat's middle, making all of his movements cease and his undamaged eye widen, clearly stunned. The Jiruga slowly focused on the sword still spearing his middle as his hands came up to reach for it. Bright, crimson trails gathered at the tall fairy's feet, Aizen watching in satisfaction as the Jiruga crumpled to his knees. Aizen hefted the prince over his shoulder, which was indeed a feat; the blue-haired Elorian was heavier than he appeared. Still, it didn't deter him from his goal: getting the prince back to Faery.

A sudden commotion to his right turned his gaze in that direction, making him arch a brow at what he saw. A slim, bright-orange-haired boy stood near an open door, eyes wide, but brows furrowed. Beside him stood a shorter, but almost equally slender, blond boy. He was also gaping at Aizen in shock, until his eyes went to the Jiruga lying on the floor, his blood pooling around him. Ulquiorra had already removed his sword from the taller fairy's body and sheathed it, and was waiting patiently for his next orders.

Aizen locked eyes with his general and nodded briefly. Behind him, Szayel snapped his fingers and the void – that he hadn't even noticed had momentarily disappeared – reopened, allowing the sorcerer to step inside and lead the way back to their dimension. "We're going," he grunted at Tousen and Ulquiorra, who were watching the blond and orange-haired boys warily.

The blond had rushed to the side of the Jiruga, his honey-brown eyes still wide, but confused, despairing and filled with tears a she mumbled under his breath to the speechless Jiruga. The orange-haired one had been standing still as stone, his maple-brown eyes fixated on the prince in Aizen's arms, his lips slowly peeling back to form a graduated sneer that bared his teeth. Before Aizen could even register it, the boy shouted the prince's name and leaped forward, his speed impressive, but not quite enough. Tousen stepped in before Ulquiorra had a chance to, and landed a one-handed, open-palmed blow to the boy's chest, sending him flying backwards against the wall. The blond boy screamed and rushed to the orange-haired one's side, but as if impervious to any form of pain, the orange-haired one slowly sat up from his spot and tried to climb to his feet, his eyes still locked on the prince.

Hm.

Luckily for him, the blond held him down, but it had to have been hard work because the orange-haired one thrashed and yelled, shouting a language Aizen didn't understand. It only made him frown slightly in confusion before casually shrugging the shoulder that wasn't being weighed down by the prince, and stepping into the void.

He had more important matters to tend to.

XOXOXO

Ichigo's chest stung and heaved as he stared at the dark hole that the tall, intimidating, brunet fairy disappeared into. His companions followed behind him, turning to glance threateningly at him and Shinji several times before the hole slid shut like a Venus fly trap. His back was aching, his head pounding, his limbs trembling, but it was nothing compared to what he was dealing with inside: emotionally. His heart felt like someone had placed a blood pressure cuff on it and was abusing the pressure meter.

He'd been sleeping peacefully when he'd felt Grimmjow slip from the bed, but hadn't paid it any mind, thinking the blue-haired fairy was just going to the bathroom. He'd instantly gone back to sleep, his body still exhausted and completely sated. He remembered being jerked awake by furious yelling and sounds of scuffling. His heart pounding with apprehension, he'd quietly left the bed, wondering if Grimmjow had gotten into an altercation with Nnoitra again; that tended to happen on occasion. When he'd approached his bedroom door, he clearly heard Nnoitra yelling Grimmjow's name and then a heavy silence descended. Ichigo had known that something had been utterly wrong. If Nnoitra and Grimmjow had been arguing or fighting, Nnoitra wouldn't have yelled Grimmjow's name as if the man had been dying.

A sense of dread weighing down his stomach, he slithered from his room, meeting Shinji in the hallway. Shinji's eyes were wide and confused, which only further convinced Ichigo that something had been totally wrong. They turned to the scene in the sitting room and went silent, both from shock and disbelief. Ichigo felt like his brain had ceased to function as he took in the horrifying sight of Grimmjow lifelessly draped over the shoulder of a tall, brunet fairy, wearing what looked like a white ceremonial robe, with a black collar, and white, old-fashioned hakama underneath. On his feet were black, armored boots and a sword was hanging from his side.

Grimmjow had only had on a pair of green boxers, leaving him exposed and humiliated. Ichigo had instantly gone defensive and pissed. He hadn't known what exactly the fuck had been going on, but he hadn't been about to sit and let some stranger snatch up his...Grimmjow. Not without a fight. Unfortunately, there had been nothing Ichigo could have done. They had all been incredibly stronger than him, and even if he had had Shinji's help, it still wouldn't have helped matters. Besides, Shinji had had his own problems to deal with. Nnoitra had been gravely injured, a sword piercing his mid-section, causing him to lay on the floor panting and grasping the spot the sword had torn through.

Ichigo knew that if Shinji hadn't have held him back from trying to reach Grimmjow again, he would probably be dead right now, but his brain was unwilling to accept that fact. All everything boiled down to was that Grimmjow had been taken from him right from under his nose. He didn't know why; he didn't really care. All he needed to know now, was how to get him back. He wouldn't be able to live with himself, with the guilt that Grimmjow's being taken had somehow been his fault. He could have fought harder, he could have done more...

A soft sob from his best friend drew him from his panicked thoughts. Shinji was huddled over Nnoitra again, this time his blond hair shadowing his face as he rested his hands on the tall fairy's shoulders. Nnoitra had gone unconscious, which in his state, was extremely dangerous. Ichigo summoned the strength to wobble over to the house phone in the kitchen, his entire body protesting with each step, where he lifted the receiver from the cradle and dialed Urahara's number.

The phone hadn't even begun ringing, when the door to their apartment was thrown open, revealing Urahara, his nephew Gin, and Nel. Urahara appeared violently harassed, his shaggy, blond hair standing up on end, and the tan and green tunic he wore, hanging off his left shoulder. Gin and Nel were almost in the same state, and had the situation not been as serious as it was, he may have laughed at the picture the three fairies made. Instead, a choked sob broke free from him, startling him as he stared down at the phone in his hand. Urahara appeared right beside him, but Ichigo was too distraught to wonder how the blond man had seemed to cross the room in less than a blink of an eye. He turned to Urahara and leaned into the hand that the older blond rested on his shaking shoulder.

"Is he gone?" Urahara asked quietly.

Ichigo knew exactly who the man was talking about, so all he did was nod as the hot tears he hadn't even realized he'd been holding at bay, crept down the sides of his face and his nose began to run. He felt like such a loser, so helpless. He felt like it was all his fault that some dangerously unhinged fairy had come and taken his...

His...

Ichigo sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't helpless and this shit wasn't his fault. Anger formed in his gut and traveled through his bloodstream, turning his eyes cold and livid. Just who the fuck did that brunet asshole think he was? Grimmjow was HIS and wasn't about to let things stand as otherwise.

He gave his attention to the older blond, his eyes determined. "I'm gonna get him back," he growled.

Urahara's own eyes widened for the briefest of moments before a small smile formed in the corners of his lips. "I was hoping you would say that," he said.

Ichigo fleetingly registered Gin stooped beside Nnoitra and Shinji, his best friend still quietly crying as he lingered next to his lover. Nel was perched on the couch, tears sliding down her face as she stared off into space, probably concerned about her brother. Ichigo felt the same way, but first, he needed some answers, like who the fuck that fairy was, why he'd taken Grimmjow, and how Ichigo could get him back.

Ichigo had never felt pain like what he'd felt when he'd seen that fairy holding Grimmjow's unmoving body over his shoulder. When he'd watched helplessly as that same fairy took the man he loved away-

Ichigo's eyes widened, his heart skipping in his chest. His hand came up to grip the spot over his heart as he stared down at his feet in complete awe and amazement. He definitely had to get Grimmjow back now.

He loved him.