When the neural link finished rendering and he stood face-to-face with its recreation of his former partner, Grimmjow's claws twitched under his skin. A feral instinct to gnash and shred the bastards who fractured his pack. A hand enveloped his and squeezed, stilling the spasms.

"I'm right here for you, okay?"

He squeezed back a thank you, hoping Ichigo would understand without words. He rolled the tension from his shoulders, and let the memory play out.

"But Grimmjooooooooow!" Nel whined like a petulant child with a pout to match. She leaned forward on her hands where they rested on his desk.

"I'm busy." A shadow of himself tipped back in his chair with arms crossed, heels resting on the papers spread in front of them. "Can't the Brothers Dim help you?"

"Who's that?" Ichigo whispered.

"The Brothers Dim? Her Fracción, Pesche and Dondochakka. Most Espada have lower ranked Intelligence that help 'em with cases."

"You don't look very busy." Nel sat down on his desk and flicked the sole of his shoe. "Besides, they're coming with me. I need someone here to monitor the signal in case we need back-up."

His ghost groaned, arms falling limp behind him. "Fine. But you owe me food."

She rolled her eyes but reached into the collar of her sweater dress and pulled out a wad of cash. She flicked out a few bills, tossing them on the desk. "Get me dessert?"

The image wrinkled his nose. "That's nasty, Nel. I can smell the sweat from here."

Ichigo gagged audibly. "Are your senses like that all the time?"

"Pretty much. Ya get used to it"

"I don't have any pockets! Where else am I supposed to keep it?"

"I dunno, a purse like every other woman?"

Nel huffed as she dropped her feet to the floor and hopped off the desk. "Other women don't have to fight like I do. A purse gets in the way."

"Maybe I'll getcha a fanny pack for yer birthday, then."

She laughed, clear and bright, the sound lingering in the air. "Make sure it's cute, at least."

As he watched her leave their office for what Grimmjow knew would be the last time, a whispered conversation drifted in through the open door. Had he heard Nel's name? Brows furrowed and eyes closed, he pulled at the corners of his mind, trying to sharpen whatever was said. The voices were so familiar, too familiar, but he couldn't put names to the sounds.

At his side, Ichigo choked again. "Why does it smell like formalin in here?"

"Formalin?"

"It's a tissue preservative. Really distinctive smell, takes me right back to anatomy dissections."

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open. "It's Szayel. One of those voices, didja hear 'em? He's our medical examiner."

"Yeah, that would definitely explain it. Is that important?"

"I think they were whisperin' about Nel. It's hard to make out, I wasn't really payin' attention back then."

"Focus on one of your other senses. Sometimes that sharpens the memory."

"Like what?"

Ichigo nodded toward the glass. "Maybe you saw something out there that'd help?"

After scanning the office floor, Grimmjow's eyes came to rest on a head of pink hair. The man he was talking to had his back to them, wearing a jacket with the hood up, but there was no mistaking him. "Fuckin' Nnoitra."

"What?"

Grimmjow pointed in the scheming Espada's direction. "The giant freak show over there. Usually enhancements are s'posed to be more inconspicuous than that, but he's all stealth so it didn't really matter for him, I guess."

"He's gotta be, what, seven foot? How good at stealth can he even be?"

He snorted. "I dunno, never worked with the guy. He didn't like Nel and Ulquiorra didn't like him, so…" Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders.

"He's an Espada?"

"They both are. Szayel not 'til after this, though."

"So one of them didn't like her, and the other one got promoted after she went missing? Sounds suspect to me."

"I was thinkin' the same thing. Let's see if we can't figure out what they were whisperin' about." Watching the two conspirators, he wound back the memory until Nel was once again in their office. As time moved forward, Szayel's mouth moved only in indistinct shapes. He hadn't been focusing enough at the time to be able to read his lips now. When the door opened, however, the whispered words came into focus as he fixated on Szayel's face.

"Here she comes. Do you have the device?" Nnoitra's reply remained muffled. "I'll keep tabs on dear Nelliel's movements for you from here." As Nel crossed the spacious floor, the towering, hooded man slinked after her.

Nails dug into the palm of Grimmjow's hand as he clenched his fist, deep enough to draw blood. His teeth grinding against each other reverberated in his head as his periphery faded away. A year's worth of rage, of guilt, of mourning laser-focused his attention on his target, the catalyst of it all. His body tensed, poised to attack, when a steadying hand gripped his arm.

"Breathe, Grimm," Ichigo's voice urged from the blackness of Grimmjow's tunnel vision. "He's not here. Deep breaths."

The man complied, squeezing his eyes shut and counting inhales and exhales. One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. His shoulders dropped out of their offensive position, and he fell to his knees. When he opened his eyes, Ichigo was right there in front of him.

"I think we've both had enough for today." He reached out and placed a hand to Grimmhow's face. "Thank you for trusting me with that."

"How do we get these fuckin' bugs outta our heads?"

Ichigo laughed with an infectious warmth that tugged at the corner of Grimmjow's lips. "Same way they went in, unfortunately."

"Wish you would'a told me that before."

"No way." He gave a quick peck to the other cheek, pulling back with a wily grin. "I wanted you to actually use the thing, Grimm."

Sprawled on the couch in his new room, his left arm flopped over a sleeping Ichigo, Grimmjow watched the TV with rapt attention. It was playing a big cat documentary, the current segment covering jaguars in the Amazon. The camera followed a male as he stalked a caiman swimming in the river, preparing to strike from the treeline. He dove into the water, latching his jaw onto the back of the caiman's head. His canines pierced through the temporal bones and drove into the brain, ending the struggle near instantaneously. Grimmjow swiped a tongue across his teeth as he watched the jaguar carry away his prey.

Ichigo stirred against his shoulder, orange hair tickling his neck. He arched his back in a stretch and groaned as stiff muscles loosened. A hand that had been resting on Grimmjow's chest slid up to grip the side of his neck as Ichigo kissed a line down his jaw.

"Nature docs get you goin', Ich?"

"Had a nice dream. Made me think it was a good time to continue what we started earlier," he whispered into Grimmjow's ear. "Do you disagree?" He pulled the lobe into his mouth and worried it between his teeth.

The guttural rumble of pleasure Grimmjow let out was reminiscent of a purr. "Not at all," he breathed.

Ichigo threw a knee over him, straddling his lap, and laced their mouths together. The hand on his neck was harsh, desperately digging into flesh, as his other fingers skated under Grimmjow's shirt, teasing across his ribs.

Grimmjow bit down on Ichigo's bottom lip, suckling at the blood released, before latching his teeth in the crook of his neck. As the spot was nursed into a bruise, Ichigo moaned and ground his hips into the other man's lap. His jeans rubbed through the thin fabric of Grimmjow's sweatpants, riling his growing erection. He relinquished Ichigo's neck, placing his forehead against his shoulder to catch a breath, and bucked up to chase more contact.

"Fuck," he choked out, embarrassed at how hard he was from mere clothed rutting. It had been months since he'd touched someone like this, since he'd been touched like this. A finger slipped into his waistband and he panicked, grabbing Ichigo by the wrist.

"You don't want that?" His tone was curious, one orange eyebrow cocked in a question.

Looking down at where his left arm had landed after Ichigo climbed into his lap, Grimmjow felt his face heat up. "It's not that, I just…" When Ichigo followed his gaze, he wiggled his fingers feebly. "I'm not exactly at my best right now, Ich. I don't wanna disappoint."

Ichigo kissed lightly at the shell of his ear. "So just let me make you feel good, and you can return the favor when you're ready."

Grimmjow hesitated for a moment before yielding the captured wrist, moving his hand to instead knead the inside of Ichigo's thigh. "Okay. But you should get to feel good, too."

"I can take care of us both," Ichigo whispered, fondling Grimmjow through his pants.

Leaning over the arm of the couch, Grimmjow slid open the drawer of the nightstand between it and his bed. He fished around blindly, then pulled out a small bottle and held it out to Ichigo.

"Where did you even—"

"Dr. Bucket Hat, the fuckin' pervert, that's where. Told me since I'd be so lonely all cooped up in his murder bunker, I should take this so I don't chafe myself jerkin' off."

Ichigo nearly fell off the couch laughing. "That sounds like him, yeah. Probably saw this coming a mile away. He's so freaky sometimes, I swear he knows the actual future." He tugged at Grimmjow's waistband again. "Do you need help with these?"

He swatted the hand away. "They're elastic for a reason. I got it. Do yours." When his lap was vacated, Grimmjow wrestled his sweats to his lower thighs, freeing his cock for Ichigo's eyes to devour. His size was impressive, he knew, fat and long, but the way Ichigo stared lit a fire in the pit of his stomach. He snapped his fingers to get the man's attention. "You gonna stand there all night?"

Blushing, Ichigo fumbled with the zipper on his jeans and dropped them to the floor along with his boxers. It was evident now that he was just as hard, more slender but longer, too. It was a gorgeous cock, and Grimmjow licked his lips at the sight of it. Ichigo returned to his position on his thighs, their erections brushing together, and he whined at the feeling of skin against skin. He took the lube from Grimmjow and captured his lips in a kiss, tongue demanding immediate entry. As Ichigo explored his mouth, he poured some of the bottle's contents into his hand, warming it up with his fingers. He began to slick Grimmjow's cock, causing him to pull away for a breath.

Grimmjow pulled at the hem of Ichigo's shirt, impatient. "Off," he grunted as his shaft was pumped. The man obliged, allowing Grimmjow to gnaw at the newly bared skin of his shoulder.

Ichigo leaned into the bite, the slight pain heightening his arousal. "What is with that?" He questioned, despite his enjoyment. "Marking your territory?" An affirmative was grunted into his branded flesh. Ichigo released Grimmjow's erection to growling protest and emptied more lube onto his hand. He coated his own cock briefly before taking them both in his hand.

"Holy shit, Ich," Grimmjow murmured into Ichigo's shoulder. His hand glided up the bare chest, coming to rest at a nipple. He brushed a thumb over the sensitive nub, and Ichigo writhed into the touch, gasping. He took it between two fingers, rubbing and teasing it, enjoying the frantic moans he elicited. He kissed up Ichigo's shoulder and neck as he played with his nipple, biting down at the angle of his jaw.

As one hand reached to tangle in Grimmjow's locks, the other sped up the pace on their erections. Ichigo tugged at his hair in time with the nibbles of his skin, squeezing and twisting the glistening heads.

Curses tumbled out against bite marks as Grimmjow neared his peak. "Fuck, shit, God, Ichigo, fuck, I'm close..."

Ichigo pulled him up by his hair to whisper hot breath in his ear. "Come for me, Grimm." The man's cock twitched beneath his quickening fingers at the order. "You marked me up so pretty, now come."

Those words were all it took to push Grimmjow over the edge, and his head spat hot and thick onto Ichigo's hand. His hips arched up, orgasm pulsing through his body, riding out the waves. He collapsed back to the couch, spent cock softening and sensitive. Breath heavy, he pushed the still moving hand away and took Ichigo's erection in his own.

"You don't have to—" Ichigo started, but Grimmjow silenced him with a crushing kiss.

"I want to," he whispered into already bruising lips. His strokes were agonizingly slow, movement deliberate, his cum mixing with the lube. They kissed again, deeply, pace matching the languid rhythm of his hand on Ichigo's cock.

When they broke apart, their foreheads rested against each other as Ichigo panted, shallow and desperate. His hand still threaded in blue hair, the other now clenching a fistful of t-shirt. "Please… Grimm…"

The cue he'd been waiting for, Grimmjow hastened his speed, pumping Ichigo relentlessly, twisting and flicking his wrist. The man moaned under the treatment, hips jerking erratically. A firm squeeze timed just right sent him spilling onto their laps.

"Fuuuuuuuuck, Grimmjow," Ichigo groaned as he came. He thrust weakly into the hand, the angle awkward, until he'd released it all, cum pooling with Grimmjow's. He looked down at the mess and wrinkled his nose. He rolled over and lay limp on the couch, chest rising and falling rapidly. After his breathing evened out, he looked over at his partner and tickled a path down the back of his neck. "Shower?"

Grimmjow blushed at the suggestion, seemingly so much more intimate than what had just occurred. He contemplated the naked man on his couch, hesitant.

"You don't have to join me if you don't want to." Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. "I'm meeting with Rukia in the morning, and I cannot show up smelling like sex. She will interrogate me, and I can't tell her anything because you're supposed to be dead."

"How've ya managed to keep anything from her when you're the worst liar I've ever met? I clocked you in less than ten minutes, and ya seem like you've known her for years."

"We all went to high school together. We don't really talk about her work though, so it doesn't come up. I don't think she's allowed to discuss it with civilians."

"Just dumb luck, then?"

Ichigo smirked, pushing himself out of his seat. "That's how I've gotten through most of my life so far."

Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow stuck his hand out in front of him. "You're gonna hafta help me up if you want me to shower. I'm injured, remember?"