Chapter: You're Infuriating

Shalan's Say: HELLO! HOW ARE YOU? Hope you REVIEWED ME! If you didn't… sobs… WHYYYY?

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Las Vegas, Nevada

"I SWEAR to GOD!" The red-haired man stepped out of his black Jaguar XK and tilted his head down. His dark Armani sunglasses flashed as he tossed his keys to the valet, walking towards the speaker. His tailored black pinstripe Armani button front vest was pulled over his white fitted shirt which was rolled up to his elbows. His fitted Armani pinstripe pants were hidden at the waist slightly by his half un-tucked shirt. His rust colored mane was short and groomed spiked up in the front a la Brad Pitt. His rust jaw line beard had five o'clock shadow just above it. "JESUS!"

"Why do you keep doing that?" Ichigo Kurosaki. Age 29. Tall, handsome and laid-back. As the son of a middle class Japanese doctor and an upper class Irish attorney he graduated at the top of his class from Yale… he had a way with women and used that to his advantage… he also happened to have a knack for making his best friend and business partner angry.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE INFURIATING!" The raven-haired man shouted back. His grey and white satin tie shone against his white fitted shirt. His sleeves were rolled up as well but his neatly pressed shirt was tucked into his charcoal grey ESCADA editor's pants. His stubble was obvious and Ichigo patted his cheek.

"You need a shave but don't you know… God doesn't like it when you say his name in vain…"

"AAAH! SHUT UP! YOU'RE THE MOST FRUSTRATING PERSON I KNOW!"

"You're acting like Leopold Bloom… you want me to get you your blue blanket sweet heart…" The taller quipped, earning him a death glare.

"Shaddap…" Uryu Ishida. Age 28. Tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed. He was well educated, graduating from To-Oh University in Japan with a degree in Political Science then from Oxford in England with a degree in International Business Law. He was more cautious than the other and let this get to him, unfortunately… this time it was causing him to panic more than was necessary.

"Oooh… cranky… you need to get more sleep…" Ichigo breezed past his partner and into the hotel.

"Hello Mr. Kurosaki…" was the greeting that was washed over him breathlessly from every woman in the hotel and casino. Uryu followed after him, wanting so badly to hurt his best friend.

"How can you be so RELAXED?" Uryu fumed as they stepped into the elevator.

"Because you're around sweet heart…" Ichigo quipped which earned him a warning shot in the navel.

"Next time I won't miss…" Uryu fired off and folded his arms. He was obviously upset, his knuckles were white and he had missed a button while buttoning his shirt. Ichigo reached over and began to unbutton the other's shirt. Uryu cursed. "What in the HELL?" Ichigo straightened his shirt and buttoned it back up.

"You missed a button… jeez Ishida… I leave and you fall apart…" Ichigo snorted, for once Uryu kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself. "Damn… you really are in a shitty mood… is this what I drove halfway across the globe for?"

"Don't tell me you drove all night LONG!" Uryu raised his voice again and Ichigo flinched.

"Again… what's with you? You channeling my mother again ouiji board?" The carrot top chuckled then scooted away just in time for Uryu's fist to fly past his hip. "Stop trying to castrate me with your bare hands…"

"Just shut up… you're not going into the meeting looking like that…"

"Well I certainly can't go into the meeting looking like you…" Ichigo joked again… much to his stomach's dismay.

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"Mr. Ishida… a woman is here to see you… I…" the secretary trailed off as Ichigo walked out of the bathroom, his towel tied firmly around his waist.

"Yes, yes Diane… let her in…" Uryu sighed then followed her eyeline. "ICHIGO!" He barked and Ichigo looked over.

"Yeeees…" the smart-ass Irishman replied. Uryu scowled and Ichigo sniggered.

"CLOTHES!"

"Yes ma'am… whoop…" he ducked before the thrown paper weight was thrown.

"God I hate him…"

"You don't haaaate me…" Ichigo sang from the other room.

"You're an idio-WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" Uryu nearly shrieked. Ichigo chuckled as he stood in the doorway wearing Uryu's ESCADA pants and white fitted shirt and tie.

"I'm going into the meeting looking like you…" Ichigo grinned and immediately afterwards a pen attached itself to the door where Ichigo was just standing.

"CHANGE!" Uryu shouted at him. "He is SO STUPID!" Uryu fumed as he looked through papers. His fitted white shirt was un-tucked from his ESCADA pants and his black hair was messy from the repeated raking of his fingers.

"Better?" Ichigo walked out of the bathroom with a pair of low slung dark blue jeans, held up by a brown belt. In his hand was a t-shirt. Uryu narrowed an eye then looked over as the door opened.

"You said he'd be here!" A woman squealed and flew across the room, clasping the half-naked man in her arms. "ICHIGO!"

"COUSIN!" Ichigo swung her around then set her on her feet. Just barely reaching his chin her bright red hair was down, hanging in soft strands down her neck and shoulders. Kazumi Hasegawa. Age 26. Triple threat: beautiful, intelligent and sharp as a tack. She wore a fitted pink silk blouse and a white pencil skirt. Her long tan legs were ended in white high heels.

"Ka-Kazumi…" Ichigo snickered as Uryu froze at the red-head's appearance. The silk clung to her body in all the right places and it made him unconsciously lick his lips.

"Stop staring and give me a hug…" she smiled and Uryu trembled lightly then wrapped his arms around her waist as her breasts pressed again his chest. Her lips brushed his ear teasingly and he heard her exhale lightly in his ear. "Jeez… you're so stupid…" she smiled as she stepped away from him.

"I'm stupid huh Hasegawa?"

"Sorry to break-up this happy reunion… but…" A head entered the room and the other three looked over.

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Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary, Leavenworth, Kansas

Ichigo stepped out of his XK and looked around the parking lot with a contemplative glance. "Find more cheer in a graveyard…" He quipped then shut the door and locked it.

"This is a graveyard Mr. Kurosaki," the warden told him. "Understand the prisoners don't get visitors very often… and when they do it's not good… so please forgive them… they forget themselves."

"It's quite alright…" Ichigo lilted and smiled the warden nodded his head and opened the door. An elaborate cage system was set up, making Ichigo lift an eyebrow as he looked up at the crowd of men just above and in front of him.

"Are you absolutely sure about this Ichigo?" Kazumi pursed her lips from behind him. Her knee length black pencil skirt did little to hide her curves as she pulled off her long double breasted jacket. Her fitted blue blouse hugged her hips and waist to the point that Ichigo almost told her to put her jacket back on.

"Yeah… but… the…" a cat call came from above them.

"Hey sweetie!" A jeer came amongst mixed shouts. Kazumi looked up as Ichigo handed his coat to the warden with a thank you. "Not you lady! I was a'talkin to the cutie next to you…" Ichigo looked up and blinked then pointed at himself. The man nodded and the cat calls came again.

"I see… since they've entered jail the wife killers have decided women aren't worth it…" Ichigo snapped another one off and Kazumi snorted.

"Shut up before you cause them to serve another life sentence or two…" the red head walked after him as the warden opened the gate to allow them into the main room. Ichigo's rolled up sleeve exposed his winding tattoo, the black angled edges of the tribal snake gripped his hand and wrist wrapping up and disappearing beneath his sleeve. The silver and gem ring on his middle finger caught the eye of every man in the jail, it sparkled with something near expensive. His signature Armani pinstripe button-front vest was unbuttoned and his white fitted shirt was tucked in for once. His Armani pinstripe pants accented by a silver chain extending from the first belt loop on the left side of his hip into his left pocket caught the sunlight. His black tie was loosened slightly and off kilter, much to his cousin's annoyance and his shiny black shoes shone in the dim light of the penitentiary.

"You're the one they'll take not me… it's been a while since they had some nice breasts to fondle…" Ichigo teased and she scoffed.

"But you'd protect me right cousin?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder and pulled it up into a ponytail.

"Sure I would…" he rolled his eyes. He scanned the rows of men, looking for the inmate they needed. "That's him…" he motioned and the warden escorted them into another room, to Ichigo it looked like a torture chamber… in reality it was the interview room that lawyers came to speak to their clients in.

Several minutes later the warden returned with a black haired man in what looked to be his mid to late 30's. The man sat down at the table as Ichigo leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

"So what do you want?" The man clipped his speech in a classic Jersey fashion, making Ichigo's mouth turn up at the corners.

"We want to ask you a few questions…" Kazumi set a file down in front of him and he opened it, looking at the picture. "Do you know this man?"

"Before you ask… if you cooperate fully with us… we'll call it parole for the aid in a federal investigation and shorten your sentence." Ichigo said from the corner of the room.

"Parole huh?" He seemed to consider this. Ichigo smiled again. "No, shit Dick Tracy?" Ichigo shrugged.

"It's the least we can do for someone who's going to help condemn one of his buddies to life in prison and then some…" the carrot-top's voice echoed slightly and the man grinned.

"Alright… the guy's name is Souske Aizen. He's a hit man for the Jersey Mob. Real high class like." He pointed a finger to the woman in the background over his shoulder. "That's his handler. 'cause the high class ones gotta have a handler… ya'know?" Ichigo nodded his head. "The handler's name is Marisol… I dunno what 'er real name is… they just got nicknames like that ya'know?"

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Kazumi leaned against the table with her hip.

"My name's Nathaniel… Nathanial Grioni…"

"Is it true that you were an informer for the Mafia when you were outside?" Ichigo straightened up.

"Yes. I worked as one of them hit men for a while too… but dat's all gone now hmm?"

"Yeah pretty much… listen thanks for the help… if you remember anything else… or if you have any problems… call me…" Ichigo produced a card and handed it to the man. "That's my cell phone and my home phone… call if you remember anything else…" Ichigo began to walk off. "Oh! By the way…" he turned around and produced a thick orange envelope. "Your wife sent you that…" he handed it to the man called Nathaniel whose eyes lit up with delight.

"I always forget how good you are with people…" Kazumi tucked the manila folder under her arm.

"HEY! MISTER!" Ichigo stopped and turned around, Nathaniel paused, looking around for the warden then sprinted over to them. "I jus' remembered something. They call him a transporter…" Ichigo's eyes narrowed and Kazumi watched the corners of his mouth inch towards his chin. The jaw line beard sinking slightly as his mouth made a turn for his feet.

"Thanks Nathaniel… if you remember anything else… call…" Ichigo whipped around, obviously displeased and stalked out of the room.

"ICHIGO!" Kazumi ran after him as he got into the Jaguar. She dove into the passenger seat as he sped off, taking the Jag up to seventy in about a minute. She hurriedly buckled her seatbelt.

"Bastard's supplying weapons to fuel this goddamn war…" Ichigo snarled as he roared down the Interstate.

"Ichigo there's nothing we can do about it yet… we have to wait for orders…" Kazumi stared straight ahead. That red-head of his was no lie, his temper flared immediately when threatened. She looked over at him and he relaxed slightly, slowing down.

"I know…" he scowled, his good mood ruined. "I need a cigarette…"

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Hello all… It's Shalan wreaking havoc on people's lives again… I should (if I try) be able to update again later today… I'm sorry that I'm not updating any of the other stories right now… forgive… READ AND REVIEW OR I WON'T EVER UPDATE THE OTHERS!

Shalan