CHAPTER 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

To everyone reading my stuff, new readers as well as the seasoned ones: thank you for all of your reviews! I deeply appreciate them, even if it takes me forever to get to them. So, thanks!

Onwards...

I see your motives inside...decisions to hide.

Back off, I'll take you on

Headstrong to take on anyone

I know that you are wrong

Headstrong, we're headstrong

Back off, I'll take you on

Headstrong to take on anyone

I know that you are wrong

And this is not where you belong

I can't give everything away

I won't give everything away

-Trapt-

XOXOXO

He paced the small kitchenette, trying to rid the wildness in his eyes. He was failing...astoundingly. Tu watched him with way too much amusement, but he couldn't bring himself to stop moving. When he got nervous, when he got agitated and bothered...he grew restless. He couldn't sit still and everything anyone said to him got under his skin. And presently, Ichigo was in the middle of an epic fucking meltdown.

B had gone and turned him into a certified basket case. Not only had his teammate been somewhat conscious during the orange-haired man's emotional episode in Japan, but he'd been aware of the kiss, too. It may have been in passing, but the fact of the matter was this: B knew! What was Ichigo supposed to do now? Every time he turned the situation over in his mind, he came up empty. He'd planned to keep his feelings towards the blue-haired miscreant as a stowed away file in the back of his subconscious, only accessible to himself. Now, all that was shot to hell. God, he couldn't get the look in those paralyzing blue eyes out of his head. B had been so serious. And it wasn't like Ichigo hadn't been able to tell the shit was about to hit the fan before it had. He'd just foolishly hoped it wouldn't. He slapped his forehead in frustration, drawing a quiet smirk from Tu as she sat perched across the room on one of the couches. He ignored her. He didn't have time to deal with her amusement; he was too busy trying to figure out how to overcome this latest crisis.

OK, when he'd gone to the upper level of the bus, he'd only planned to tease the blue-haired bundle of pissed off gorgeous. However, even the best laid plans have potential to fall apart. But he would admit, he'd held up nicely, starting an amiable kind of conversation with B, in which fists didn't fly and testosterone amounts weren't grotesque. Well, that'd lasted all of maybe two minutes before Ichigo had gone quiet, going over a few things in his head. The silence had stretched and become damned near palpable, and that'd drawn his attention to his abnormally silent teammate. That was about when things had gone down the toilet. He hadn't been prepared to find B's ridiculously blue eyes taking in his body with unconcealed hunger. He hadn't been prepared to see B staring him down like the man was nanoseconds away from manhandling him and enthusiastically Christening that bunk. Yeah, that just hadn't been part of the expected.

But...as if that wasn't bad enough as it was, B'd brought down Ichigo's world with a resounding, horrifying crash. So, that was why the barbarian had been acting so strangely towards him. Looking at him like he was contemplating all the ways he wanted to kill him and shit. It made a lot more sense now that Ichigo knew the guy was aware of the kiss. His stomach rolled as his mind went where he'd tried to keep it from venturing for a few years now. Yes, he considered B invincible and indestructible, but the truth was: it was his mind's way of dealing with the man's almost-death in Japan. Sort of like denial at its best.

Tokyo, Japan

October 2008

Ichigo scrambled to the left, eyes wild and hands going over his head, defending it from falling debris. P, Grenade, and Tu crouched on a metal catwalk about twenty feet above him, eyes equally wide and panicked as they watched part of the roof cave in. That wasn't the bad part. Ichigo took in his surroundings with a quick sweep of the eyes, heart clambering like an old-fashioned fire alarm. His pulse was so strong, he could feel it in his sandpaper-dry mouth. How had things gone so fucking wrong in such a short space of time? It was ludicrous to think of, especially considering the individuals of his team. Smoke, fire and the crumbling material of the building they were ensconced in, inhibited his vision and breathing, but his mind was far from that.

"B!" he yelled into the din of destruction.

G appeared at his elbow, scaring the shit out of him for the briefest of seconds. "D'ya see him?"

Ichigo shook his head frantically, back to peering through the thick, dark smoke. Where the hell was his teammate? Why couldn't he find him? He'd been right next to him a minute before the explosion. And then a figure in the dark cloud emerged, limping and favoring its left shoulder. When it got closer, Ichigo tried his hardest not to sag with disappointment.

Blondie edged towards him, blood tracking down the side of his head. "The floor's gone," he coughed, golden-brown eyes watering.

Ichigo felt his stomach hit the ground. Hard. "What?" he croaked in disbelief.

"It's gone! There's a hole 'bout ten feet wide – O, where the fuck ya goin'?"

Ichigo was deaf to his teammate's call. Please, God, it couldn't be true. He jogged in the direction Blondie had come from, and pulled up short just in time to miss tumbling into the hole the guy'd mentioned. He got down on all fours and waved away the annoying, vision-hampering smoke, coughing and grumbling the whole while. When he stared down into the hole, he didn't see anything at first. Then his sight sharpened briefly, allowing him a glimpse of the lower level, cluttered with debris and parts of the collapsed building. It was about a fifteen foot drop, and he'd be able to make it if he levered himself over the edge and hung by his hands before jumping. He was in the middle of snatching off the black jacket he wore, when G appeared beside him again.

"I'll give ya a hand," he grunted, lowering himself beside the hole as well.

Ichigo nodded gratefully, but his eyes were still panicked and frightened at what he might find. God, if B was down there, his condition couldn't even be remotely good. And that scared the hell out of Ichigo.

G took Ichigo's discarded jacket at the same time that Blondie limped over. He looked like he wanted to protest, but one thing about the team: they all knew that Ichigo could be quite the stubborn jackass when he felt like it. Now was definitely one of those times. He'd override anyone even thinking to disagree with his decision to leap into the unknown for their teammate. Hell, their friend.

"Blondie, I'm goin'," he stated, voice strong and clear just in case the other tactics specialist didn't get it by now.

"Yeah, I know. Jus' be careful down there, O."

"Where's yer earpiece?" G asked.

Ichigo felt both of his ears and shook his head. He must've lost it during the blast.

"Take mine," Blondie offered, already holding out a small, dark object. "It's still workin'."

"Thanks," Ichigo grumbled as he fit the piece into his right ear.

He climbed over the edge of the hole after adjusting the gun in his thigh holster. There, G gripped his wrists, while Blondie sat on G's slender legs. With the extra length, the drop was reduced to almost nothing. He nodded at G, indicating the silver-haired man could let him go now. His feet hit the floor with a dull thud, and he immediately went down. He'd slightly turned his ankle and lost his balance on the uneven floor of the lower level. There wasn't as much smoke where he was now, but the damage from the blast had destroyed almost everything. Ichigo waved away debris dust and drew his Glock before standing and creeping forward into the semi-darkness.

He wanted to call out his partner's name, but knew that was unwise. Enemies could still be lurking around and he wasn't too keen on giving away his position. A boom like distant thunder sounded from above, so he pressed the button on the earpiece and spoke into the speaker.

"Everything alright up there?"

G's voice answered. "'Bout alright as alright c'n be in this situation, O. Ya find 'im yet?"

"No, not yet."

Ichigo took that as his cue to keep moving, eyes alert and heart still rapidly pounding. His arms were trained in front of him, grip sure on his gun. He rounded a corner, noting a small square plaque glued to the wall with a three on it, noted another hole from above, as well as the gaping one in the wall opposite him...and then he tripped. He regained his footing almost immediately, but glanced down to see what he'd damned near fallen on top of, and his heart froze for several excruciating seconds.

Bloody, matted blue hair and a pale face were the only things Ichigo focused on at first. B's eyes were closed, but his lips were parted and turning an eerie shade of blue. Ichigo was vaguely aware of a small cry leaving him as he dropped to his knees beside his downed comrade, but his body was on autopilot, conveniently ignoring all of his training as he lifted away chunks of building and rocks. The uncovering revealed B's solid black tee that was ripped and had dark splotches on it – damn the man for not wearing his Kevlar! – and heavy duty, black cargo pants. Underneath the debris was a wicked-looking steel beam, resting over the left upper side of the blue-haired man's torso.

"Oh, shit, B," Ichigo whispered, devastated.

The man looked dead. His body was completely still, face pale as the moon, and lips almost a dark blue now. It scared the hell out of Ichigo as he put his fingers to the exposed side of his friend's neck. He had to concentrate over the noisy thudding of his own heart in order to hear B's, but it was there. It was thready and weak, but it was there, and that was all that ultimately mattered.

"B, can you hear me?"

B didn't budge. Hell, he didn't even twitch.

"B," Ichigo's voice cracked and his eyes stung. "Time to wake up, dude."

Nothing.

He was really starting to panic now. He didn't want to move the man, so he very lightly touched B's cool face. He ran his hand over the man's sweaty brow, wiped away some of the blood leaking from the side of the guy's head. He was so glad no one had accompanied him on this trip; he'd be completely mortified getting caught weepy-eyed over a man he pretended to hate.

"C'mon, c'mon! You can't do this to me!"

He couldn't believe this was happening. B wasn't supposed to die. B was too strong, too fucking stubborn to just kick the bucket.

"O, did you find him?" G's voice crackled loudly over the earpiece.

Ichigo gulped down air and tried to control himself, eyes still locked on the drawn face of his teammate. Finally, when he managed to get it together, he pressed the earpiece button and said, "Yeah, I found him. H-he's down. Shit..." he paused. "I need help. We're in the lower level, third corridor."

"On our way," G replied.

Ichigo gave his attention back to an unconscious B. He'd never seen the man so close to death before and the shocking reality of it scared him shitless. He pressed his lips together, unsuccessfully trying to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

"B, help's comin'. Just hold on a little," his voice quaked. B's body seized up, a loud, shuddering gasp pulling in through discolored lips. That made the tears fall. "Fuck," Ichigo hissed. "Don't you fuckin' die on me, B! I need you here!"

B's body went slack and Ichigo feared the worst. Too afraid to search for a pulse, he lowered his lips to parted, blue ones and quickly stole a kiss. The second he pulled back, the rest of the team spilled onto the scene. He discreetly wiped his eyes and took a few, deep, calming breaths as he tucked away his emotions.

Ichigo grimaced. That time in Japan had been the worst moments of his life. Nothing could compare to how he'd felt when he'd thought B had gone and died. He glared at his clenched fists. So, B knew. He'd heard the things Ichigo'd said, even felt the kiss. Now, the blue-haired man wanted some answers. And he was well within his rights, too. If the roles had been reversed, Ichigo would damned sure want an explanation as well.

But how to tell the man? No, wait. Should he even tell B how he felt about him? He could always make up a lie and claim he was just distraught over the man's dire situation. But B's instincts were better than some women's intuition. It was downright creepy at times. So, yeah, that wouldn't really work.

Fuck.

"You OK, O, doll-face?" Tu asked from beside him.

His head whipped around, eyes wide. When the hell had she...?

"Uh...yeah. I'm alright."

"Sweety, you're as alright as I am a guy," she drawled, sarcasm ladled over her words. He supposed perception ran in the team. "Did you and B get into another fight?"

Oh, if only you knew, Tu.

He shook his head and focused on a couple of writhing bodies on the TV. Were they supposed to be dancing? Elegant fingers snapped in front of his face.

"Seriously, O," Tu started, pretty face pinched with concern. "This isn't like you. What's the matter?"

"Tu, I can't – I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Well, I hope this doesn't affect you in Langley. That might not go over well with P, ya know?"

Ichigo chuckled as he tried to lighten the mood by cuffing Tu gently on the chin. "It's just a small thing. Don't worry 'bout me."

A bright grin was his response before his green-haired teammate moved off towards the bathroom. Ichigo felt like he'd just dodged a hefty bullet. Of course there was something bothering him, but he'd be damned before he told what it was to Tu. The woman meant well, but God, her bedside manner sucked.

"You know, you may be able to fool Tu, but I'm not so easily duped," a condescending tenor spoke firmly from behind him.

Ichigo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn't happening. He slowly turned to find P perched on a couch, eyes on the TV and thin arms folded across his chest. Mustard-hued eyes leisurely found Ichigo's gaze.

"Who do you think you're kidding, O?" P continued, pink eyebrow arched with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ichigo defended with his always favorite comeback when he really didn't have one.

The pink-haired man snorted and laughed. "Ah, yes. The signature line determining an O-bred lie." P rolled his eyes. "You must acquire new material."

"Whatever," Ichigo grumbled as he made his way to the fridge in search of something cold to drink. In reality, he wanted something a lot stiffer than the lemonade he found, but unfortunately, they didn't have any alcohol on the bus. "Didja ever stop to think it might not be any of your business?" he finished after taking a long sip from the twenty-ounce bottle in his hand.

"Of course not. Especially not after the episode you allegedly two, grown men subjected us to this morning. You do realize that you and B have been behaving like apes, yes?"

"Don't we always?"

"Yeeess, but it's never been quite to this degree. Aaaannnd...the others may have been blind to your distraught tears in Japan, but I was not. In fact, I found it a bit strange."

Ichigo gave P his full attention and openly gaped. Was P saying what he thought the man was saying? If he was, then that meant that not only did B himself know, but one of their teammates knew how Ichigo felt as well. It was a disturbing thought. Hadn't he been meticulous with keeping his affection towards his blue-haired teammate under wraps? In light of this new situation, he supposed he hadn't.

"What the fuck," he growled to himself as he went back to pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not so bad. I think I'm the only one that knows so far. Tu is still clueless, I don't think Grenade cares enough, and G-"

"B knows," Ichigo interrupted with a croak. He cleared his throat, avoiding the stunned golden eyes staring at him. "At least he has an idea. He, uh...he heard some things I said that day in Japan."

"Aww! O, were you being sentimental?"

"I hate you."

"Now, now, don't be that way. I'm not poking fun. Not really, anyway. But how do you know he knows?"

Ichigo sighed and meandered over to the couch next to P before taking a seat on it. "'Cuz he told me."

P whistled, eyes wide. "No wonder you look like you saw a ghost. So, what's the next step?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you going to do now?" the pink-haired man slowly clarified with a grin.

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know. I kinda wanted ta keep the shit a secret. Now it seems like too many people know about it."

"Well, it's just me and B."

"Yeah, two people too many, P. I mean, what am I supposed to say to the guy? 'Hey, B, I think I might be in love with you, even though we fight like worst enemies.' Yeah, no, I don't think so. Plus, we're kinda in the middle of running for our lives right now. I can't imagine it's a good time to make a romantic confession, especially not to a fellow teammate."

P nodded thoughtfully, thin fingers rubbing his pointed chin. "You have a point there. However, you're also tucking tail and hiding like a bad puppy. Like you said: we're currently running for our lives, so who's to say when would be a good time? You can't very well depend on that. But let me ask you this: had you planned on ever letting our blue-haired Viking in on your little crush?"

Even though Ichigo scowled at P, he had to admit the man was right. And that led him to think if he'd ever really planned to tell B how he felt about him. Even if they weren't ducking and dodging their old employers, would he have found the courage to look the man up and go to him with his long-held secret? He didn't think so, and that made shame race through his system like a rocket. He wasn't a coward. What the hell was he so afraid of anyway? He shifted his gaze and glared at his balled up hands. So, he was in love with B. Didn't mean it was the end of the world. And if the way B had been silently watching him like he wanted to make a porno with him, Ichigo had to believe he wasn't the only one that at least felt the pull of attraction.

"I don't know. I hadn't planned on it, but now that I think about it, it doesn't make sense to keep it to myself. Especially now that B has an idea of how I feel. It's just frustrating. I don't like being forced into makin' decisions. You know that, P," he grunted as he closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

"I do. So, maybe you should just get yourself together and do things on your own time. Don't let the brute push you."

"Ha! That's easier said than done. We're both stubborn pricks and B's got his teeth showing on this one."

P nodded again. "You've made another valid point. In that case, O, I have no idea what to tell you. I would, however, appreciate it if you two toned it down. Less hair-pulling and scratching, more thinking and getting through this inconvenient trial we're going into."

Ichigo's back stiffened as he bristled, totally offended. "You know, you've got some fuckin' nerve telling me and B to stop fighting and arguing, when that seems to be all you and Tu do around each other. What's with that? You two gonna fuck or what?"

His pink-haired teammate went pale and thin lips pressed into a firm line. "Who says I li-"

"Cut the crap, P! I ain't stupid, either, so who do you think you're kidding?"

Silence prevailed. Then it was dispersed by a loud sigh. "Do you think you can be any louder with the nosy woman right there in the bathroom, O?" P issued with a dark glare.

Ichigo had the decency to be embarrassed, but he wasn't done harassing the truth out of his teammate. "OK," he started, voice lowered considerably. "But if I have to make a confession, I think it's only right that you do the same. So, how 'bout it? I tell, you tell?"

P's eyes narrowed into slits as he considered it. "Fine."

With an ingratiating smile, Ichigo climbed to his feet, prepared to make his way up to his bunk and catch a nap before they arrived in Baltimore.

"And if I find out you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, O, I will personally kick your ass and feed it to Kenpachi."

The orange-haired man stopped in his tracks and blinked as the blood drained from his face. "Y-you wouldn't do that."

"Try me."

Ichigo had no intentions of doing so. Kenpachi was scary as fuck-all.

XOXOXO

The door to Ishida's cave hovered before them like a yawning tunnel. Grimmjow sighed, depressed. He wanted to focus on getting that confession out of O, but here he stood...waiting for the door to his doom to slide open. He felt like he was walking to his own execution. He shouldn't have to be required to tag along, just because P thought it would get Ishida to cooperate more freely with Grimmjow being there. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. ...And now he was internally whining like a child. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed again, this time drawing a smug smirk from P.

Grimmjow cleared his throat and met mustard-hued eyes with a stern glare. "If that creep puts his hands on me, I'ma shoot 'im. An' ain't no words from you, P, gonna save his ass. Just thought I'd share that witcha."

O cackled from the pink-haired man's side, Tu giggled, Grenade shook his head and smiled, and G...well, G seemed like he was in his own little world, hands in his pockets and eyes distant. What the hell was he thinking about? P, on the other hand, merely rolled his eyes and knocked on the metal door that looked like it belonged on a spaceship, rather than in a warehouse-styled building.

"And if you do that, I'll shoot you. Tit for tat, no?" the pompous, pink-haired asshole drawled, unfazed.

Grimmjow shuffled his feet as the door made a soft beeping sound and slowly slid aside. It was like a slow descent into an electric chair. Sure, just calmly face the fact that you're about to die.

Fuck this.

He whirled on his heel, ready to flee back to the bus, but that voice – that haughty fucking tenor that he just couldn't stand – floated over his shoulder, halting his steps.

"Ah, the gang's all here again. Nice to see you, Agent B. Did you forget something?"

Grimmjow's fingers twitched as he turned back, burying the urge to reach for the Glock at his waist. It was like trying to get him not to curse: fucking impossible. Everything on his body felt like it had a sudden case of the tics. His eyebrows jumped, his fingers trembled, his limbs jerked. He was a veritable ticking bomb. And then a hand on his arm caught his attention. He glared over at the soul brave enough to approach him in his current mood, and was surprised when everything settled and his body involuntarily relaxed. O stared up at him with those insanely brown eyes and shook his head slightly.

"It's only for an hour, the most," he said quietly, unaware of the other eyes penetrating their interaction.

He nodded. What the hell? Why was he so fucking meek all of a sudden? O's hand disappeared and it was like a switch had been thrown. All his anger came roaring back as he tried to incinerate Ishida with his eyes. But Ishida was too busy trying to do the same to O, so he didn't notice the death rays Grimmjow sent him. Grimmjow frowned, confused. Then it made a little more sense. Ishida wanted him. O had touched him. Taboo, taboo, taboo. With a wicked grin, Grimmjow followed the rest of the team into the dark-haired geek's lair.

O had changed positions and was now posted beside Grenade, eyes intent on the glowing screens surrounding the room. Computers hummed, printers whirred, and other little techy things clicked and beeped. It was nerd paradise. However, Grimmjow'd found an angle that would surely return the annoyance the glasses-sporting Ishida dished out, tenfold. He watched the room carefully as Ishida plopped into a black, rolling desk chair behind one of the many monitors decorating the place, and P took up position beside him. G found himself a seat near the door, while Tu traveled the room, eyes big and curious.

Suddenly, Grenade cleared his throat. "So, uh...what're we here for again?" he asked, Southern drawl carrying over the background noise with ease.

Ishida opened his mouth, Grimmjow certain the man was ready to spew sarcasm like vomit, but P cut him off.

"We need equipment. The end."

The brunet ignored the flippant remark and sank to the floor. "Alrighty."

O glanced at Grenade, but shook his head and made his way over to the two computer geniuses, where P included him in their conversation. Grimmjow's eyes followed everything. He had a plan and in order for it to work, he'd need to get his ass over there by O. So, that was precisely what he did. He sauntered over to his orange-haired teammate and casually placed a hand on the man's shoulder. The outcome was delicious. You would've thought someone had just dropped a live grenade into the room, such was the stunned silence. He forced back the grin that wanted to devour his face and glanced innocently around the room. P stopped talking and stared, Tu stopped moving and stared, G tilted his head, opened frost-blue eyes and stared, Grenade lazily arched a brow and stared, and O jerked like Grimmjow'd hit him, met his gaze with astonished whiskey-brown eyes, then stared. Ishida was the only one whose reaction was a bit different. Instead of staring, he righteously glared.

This was just perfect. Grimmjow fought that grin tooth and nail as he slowly brought up his other hand and placed it on O's other shoulder. Once that was done, his hands squeezed and he gently started massaging. The team passed looks back and forth at each other, but O was apparently still too stunned to do much more than gawk. And then, for some reason, the room just fell away, leaving him and O alone. Their eyes locked and Grimmjow shifted his body until it filled the small gap between them. The heat emanating from the shorter man distracted him and made him lean forward even more, his nose burying itself into that abominably bright-orange hair. He inhaled deeply, not even noticing the quick intake of air O took. Grimmjow was too caught up in what he was doing. What was he doing, actually? His hands left O's shoulders and made their way down to the other man's hips, where they tightened and released rhythmically. Christ, he was enjoying the way O fit with him, muscular yet wiry body taut and tempting.

A small, choking sound brought him out of the special little place he'd created for the two of them, so he lifted his face away from O's hair and looked around. Everyone stared at him like he'd just swallowed the key to their freedom. Not to mention, O's chest heaved as he took in shallow breath after shallow breath, eyes squeezed shut and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Now that was a look Grimmjow could get used to.

Fortunately, his spontaneous actions earned him the development he'd been hoping for. Ishida was on his feet, glasses sliding before slender fingers pushed them back up his nose, and dark-blue eyes spit fire at O.

"I see!" he snapped. "This is most undesirable, Agent O."

O's eyelids finally peeled apart, the brown orbs settling on the raging dark-haired man. "What're you talkin' about, Ishida?"

"I claimed Agent B as my own years before this nonsense going on now, and yet you disrespect that. I can't allow it. I challenge you."

O blinked. Grimmjow smirked. Oh, this was too good.

"Excuse me?" the orange-haired man deadpanned.

"I said: I challenge you, Agent O. We'll settle this here and now. Agent B is mine."

O blinked again, then turned and threw a murderous glare at Grimmjow. It bounced right off him. He grinned and blew his teammate a kiss, not really expecting the angry blush that followed. That took his thoughts down the road of getting that confession out of O, even if it killed him. Once that was out of the way, he planned to screw the guy stupid.

"Ishida, B's just messin' with you."

"No, I'm not," he instantly piped up, brows drawing into a pretend frown. He pulled O tighter to him and pressed his lips into the man's hair in a brief kiss. "O's lyin'. Me an' him are an item. Ain't that right, sweetheart?"

Ishida hedged beautifully, the fury in his eyes ratcheting up a few notches, but before he could really get going, O growled and elbowed Grimmjow in the stomach. It wasn't hard enough to really hurt, but it did knock the wind out of him. He dropped his hands from O's waist and bent slightly, trying to catch his breath.

"Why are you doing this?" O hissed in his face. "This isn't helping us get outta here any faster, ya know!"

"I don't care!" Grimmjow hissed back. "I just want that freak ta stop likin' me! You don' know how it feels ta have yer ass and sometimes yer dick grabbed by somebody ya don' even want, never mind like. And lemme tell ya, it ain't fun!"

The anger flitted out of O's eyes almost instantaneously as he tucked his lips between his teeth, biting back a grin.

"If you laugh at me, I'll kick yer fuckin' ass, O," Grimmjow continued, voice still a low whisper. "C'mon! Jus' help me out here! Look, if ya do, I'll do Beavis and Butt-head imitations with ya, an' we can make P shit his pants and freak out."

And there it was. O's brown eyes glittered with thoughts of future malicious deeds as he nodded. "What do I gotta do?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Act like we're a couple, I guess." O briefly frowned at the floor as though he were contemplating, and the look made Grimmjow think of their earlier, aborted conversation. "An' don' think I forgot about what we were talkin' 'bout before, either," he added.

"Shut up, asshole. I know you didn't forget."

O glared at Grimmjow, but carefully put an arm around his waist, face on fire. Then he turned to Ishida. "I guess the jig's up," he sighed.

Ishida's lips drew into such a tight ball, it was amazing they didn't disappear altogether. "Then my declaration stands, Agent O. I challenge you."

"To what?" O asked, bewildered. "It can't be a fight. Ya do realize I'd beat you pretty easily, right?"

"Not a fight, you disgusting animal! A man's game."

O was frowning by now and Grimmjow was hardly keeping his laughter in check. Meanwhile, the rest of the team had gathered around them and watched with avid interest.

"A man's game. So, what's that? I gotta ask 'cuz I don't think me and you have the same ideas as to what's manly or not," O retorted, full of sarcasm.

Ishida drew up like a harassed chicken. "Nor would I expect us to," he sniffed. "I challenge you to a game of chess, Agent O. Winner gets Agent B."

"Uh, just a little friendly reminder: B's already mine."

Grimmjow froze, heart seizing, then restarting with a thunderous pounding. Whoa. He'd enjoyed hearing those words coming from his orange-haired teammate a bit too much. The words made him think of all the ways he wanted to bend O over a flat surface and-

"Not to mention-" P's voice interrupted Grimmjow's dirty mind, but Grenade's voice cut off the pink-haired man's statement.

"Now that ain't right. If Ishida wants ta challenge O ta a manly game a'chess, then so be it."

The amusement in the brunet's voice further brought Grimmjow back to the here and now, where he focused on the radiating glee on O's face, and the poorly disguised concern all over P's. Then, the word chess rang through his mind. Had...Ishida just...sentenced his own death in the form of a board game? Did he not remember that O was a tactics genius? The orange-haired man lived to solve, plan and figure shit out. But that was ultimately a good thing, right? Maybe once Ishida had his ass handed to him publicly, he'd leave Grimmjow the fuck alone.

P huffed and folded his arms across his chest before sending an irate glare Grimmjow's way. "I hope this doesn't interfere with what we need to do."

"It shouldn't," he answered cheerily. "Plus, I never heard ya bitch this much when Ishida had his hands all over my body parts."

That shut down the pink-haired prick. Ishida marched over to a corner of the room, naturally stepping over thick cords and wires as if they weren't even there. The geek plopped down at a small table made for two, the surface covered with the signature checkered boxes. Under the table were two pencil drawers containing the chess pieces, one for each player. O sat across from Ishida, grin gone and game face on. It was sexy as hell. Grimmjow watched the men situate the pieces on the board, then stare across it at each other.

"Ready, you boar?" Ishida droned.

O gave a tiny lift of the corner of his mouth. "Let's do this."

Grimmjow beamed and pulled up a rolling chair, thoroughly prepared to enjoy the show. G came over and sat on the floor to his right, ice-blue eyes slitted shut and wide mouth pulled into his customary, toothless grin.

"Lucy...ya got some 'splainin' ta do," he said quietly.

"I'll say," Tu added from his left.

"Shh," he hushed, irritated. "Game's on."

Next time...