What Else Could Possibly Go Wrong?
Disclaimer: I own neither Girl Genuis nor Bleach.
This is a gift-fic for Vathara. This is a one-shot. If anyone wants to turn it into a chapter story, please contact me first.
Ducking yet another thrown bar chair, a tall blond maneuvered himself as quickly and quietly toward the door as he could, mourning the ragged remnants of the green and white hat that fluttered between his clenched fingers. When the odd group had shown up at his doorstep, he'd barely blinked. He'd seen odder things, he'd told himself. And while a bunch of ... ogres, for lack of any better familiar description, who called themselves Jagerkin, following a pretty blond girl of average height, whose leather apron of many pockets was filled with various tools, was certainly a strange sight, he was willing to let it go, once he'd heard her story. Trans-temporal/dimensional travel. What self-respecting scientist wouldn't want to know more?
He was still going to strangle that blond girl when he caught up with her. "Look after my friends, would you?" she'd asked so sweetly as she'd stalked up toward 12th division's headquarters. "It's not ... safe for them to be around strange equipment. They tend to break things they don't recognize."
Really, couldn't she have told him that bars were a definite no-no?
Particularly bars frequented by 11th Division personnel.
It had started innocently enough, he mused as he sauntered carefully away from the sounds of a bar being completely and utterly thrashed. He'd led the small group to a bar he remembered as being a good place to relax after a long day. Had he known it had become Captain Zaraki's favorite place to hang out, he would have gone elsewhere. He'd even tried to steer the group of Jagerkin to a bar across the street, after he'd heard Kenpachi's voice shouting for more sake.
But no.
The Jagerkin had taken one look at the bunch of rough-and-tumble types in the place and had begun trading the most wryly vicious grins he'd ever seen. And yes, the mouthful of shark teeth they all had did count.
With no other choice but to follow, Urahara had slipped in and found a reasonably out of the way table and got his guests seated around it.
He might still have gotten them all out of there without a hitch if Zaraki hadn't seen him and proceed to snatch his hat and poke his fingers through the holes Ichigo had put in it during his training.
The rip of fabric brought silence to the whole place when a purple-skinned Jagerkin tried to snatch it back.
The silence only lasted for a breath before a full-fledged bar fight broke out, as Jagerkin launched themselves over the table and into the crowd of Shinigami.
Sternly repressing the urge to let Benihime out to play, he'd silently picked up the remains of his hat and turned his back on the entire place.
Letting a cold smirk surface, he sauntered up the hill toward 12th division headquarters. He had a few words for that girl.