AN

Rapid update time! Woo Hoo!

Here you go!

Oh and for all you kiddies out there or people who don't like smut, uh, maybe you should go somewhere else. You didn't really think Grimmjow and Soifon would stop with their kiss did you? So look away!

Give hugs, cookies and whatever else to VioTanequil who rules as a Beta Reader!
AN

For the second time in his life, Ulquiorra felt like a fool.

It was a decidedly unpleasant feeling and after all, the last time he had felt it, he had been standing half naked being turned into a Shinigami. This time though, he was clothed and a full Shinigami. He was not standing in a lab. In fact, the room felt far more personal than he could have imagined. Orihime's friends had taken it upon themselves to make sure that she was surrounded by color when she woke up. Cards lined the walls and flowers were even in little pots all around the room. Her hairpins were resting in a small velvet box on the bedside table, waiting for their Princess to awaken.

He had fought so hard against becoming attached to the sunset haired woman. It had all been for naught though. He had avoided coming to this room for a long time, he did not want to see her without the abundance of life she seemed to be surrounded with. But it seemed that even near death, Orihime's spirit burned brightly. She looked like she was simply asleep. He should know, he had checked on her when she was asleep before. The white hospital robe she wore was more open than the stiff garments of Las Noches but she was still just as beautiful as she had been the first day he took her down to the prison.

Yes, even if he couldn't find the words on his lips, Ulquiorra's traitorous mind supplied them. He found her beautiful; he had always found her beautiful. He grimaced and closed his eyes, wondering what was wrong with him. They were so different; they would always be so different. He had no place in her life anymore than she had in his. They would always be so different, how could they possibly be together? She had said that one day he would understand, but he didn't think it would ever make sense to him.

He would never understand why his heart ached at the thought of never seeing her eyes again or why his fingers itched to push the lock of hair that had fallen across her features back. She could heal anyone, she could heal the world, but she couldn't heal herself at the moment. For that, he was irrationally furious. He wanted her to open her eyes; he wanted her to find him watching her and ask him if he was worried. He wasn't sure that he would deny it anymore. He wasn't sure that he could deny it anymore.

He had always watched her out of the corner of his eye. He knew that she sometimes reached up to touch her hairpins. He knew that her first response showed in her eyes long before it did in her lips. He knew that her weakest attacks were the offensive ones because she was a good person, because she didn't want to hurt anyone even though the one time she had slapped him had proven she was more than capable if she had too.

He hadn't thought of it at the time, he had been too angry to even keep his face blank much less realize that her hand on his cheek was the first contact he had with a human being since becoming an Arrancar. He didn't count Aizen; Aizen was less than human in his eyes. No her hand streaking out and smacking him was the first time another human had touched him, really. He wondered if that marked him somehow. Ulquiorra's hand drifted up to his lips, touching the skin again. He still couldn't feel a difference with his fingers but it didn't change the fact that he could feel a difference somewhere in his chest. Was that what a heart was? If so then his was decidedly broken.

He frowned and reached out, his finger gently touching her lips. The skin was softer there, as soft as it had been when she kissed him back in Las Noches. He wondered if she'd still taste like warmth, like sunshine if it had a taste. He wondered if it would be the same if everything that made her who she was wasn't visible at the moment. He couldn't see his heart before, but it had been there. If he couldn't see hers now, was it still there? Did she feel as changed as he did by the one simple kiss she had given him? She had kissed him, and she had saved him.

"You stupid woman," he hissed, wishing to find the anger that he used to so easily.

It wasn't there.

He couldn't find it.

His hands dug into the blankets as his knee buckled underneath him bringing him that much closer to her. She didn't stir, not at all. He didn't feel angry, he couldn't think of her as trash, all he felt was confusion. She kissed him, of course, and even he couldn't deny they had been growing closer, but she had saved him. She had saved everyone else as well but she had saved him at the cost of herself. He wanted to shake her, he wanted to do something, to do anything to wake her and demand answers. Why had she done it? Why? If this was what having a heart was, then he didn't want it. He didn't want to feel this. His heart had gotten him into nothing but trouble before, why should this be any different?

Ulquiorra raised himself up, sitting on the side of her bed, his eyes searching her face for some kind of movement, for any sign that the woman who had taken him over so much was still in there. Her face remained serene and impassive, denying him the answers he so desperately sought. He looked away and up into the bright light, telling himself that there was no reason for the tightness in his throat. After so long spent not feeling emotions, it seemed that they were determined to take over his body. He had to get out of there, out of that room and away from that woman.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and brushed the lock of hair away from her face. His hand lingered against the skin of her cheek before he pulled back and stood up. His eyes widened as her face turn slightly to where his hand had been, her brow furrowing slightly at the warmth that was suddenly gone before smoothing out as sleep took her once more. He waited a minute but her face remained smooth before he turned and hurried out of the room.

He had to go talk to Soifon.

Break

Grimmjow nearly broke down Soifon's door in his haste to get into her living quarters. She nearly broke it kicking it shut behind her. Hell, she could get a new door later. She slammed him against the wall and kissed him, hard. It wasn't as though she had to be delicate with him anymore than he had to be with her.

It was like a different kind of sparring really. Except that instead of being rewarded with pain, they were rewarded with an entirely new kind of feeling. He grabbed her and turned so she was against the wall, hauling her off the ground. Instead of dangling there like she had before Soifon locked her legs around his hips and dragged her nails down his cheek, adding a row of thin welts to the butterfly crest already there. He growled and bit down on her lower lip in response to which she retaliated by tangling her fingers in his blue hair.

He may never have been in her apartment before, but it wasn't as though there was a chance in hell they were making it to the bed anyway. They had only moved after two men came in to spar and almost saw their commander topless. That was not something Soifon would allow so she had grabbed him and Shunpoed to her apartment. Grimmjow had been with others before, sure, but they were all rather delicate. Soifon could and would kick his ass and for some reason, that made it all the more fun.

He fell onto the mats of the floor; she landed on top of him, sitting boldly on his hips. He ran his hands up her thighs, tracing the curves up… up—she gasped sharply, her fingers digging into his ribcage and he smirked with feral delight at the reaction. Grimmjow removed one hand and reached up, undoing the tie at the neck of her cloths, releasing the fabric. Not to be outdone, she practically ripped his shirt off before he traced his hand down the exposed skin, robbing her control all over again.

The skin where he had stabbed her had been taunting him since he did it. Now it was smooth and unblemished once again. He sat up, keeping her on his lap and bit down, marking it again. She cried out for real this time, something he enjoyed far too much. Her eyes opened hazily before she blinked and cleared them.

That was about all the warning he got before she slammed him back into the ground with enough force to have him seeing stars. Then, as she slid lower and lower down his body he found himself seeing them once more for an entirely different reason. She slid back up his body, her curves running along the hard planes of his chest. Soifon stopped at the scar where his Hollow Hole had been, before tracing the skin with her lips and tongue. He let out a low moan as the sensitive skin reacted to her touch. She grinned against it before pushing herself up until their noses were almost touching.

He grinned and captured her lips with his before turning her over so she was underneath, her head resting on his forearm. He slid his hand under her knee, pulling back fractionally. He wasn't being careful or nice but this was progressing past the point where he could stop. Even if there were times she annoyed the hell out of him, he wasn't going to do that. Her eyes drifted open and she arched a questioning eyebrow at him. He smirked and surged forward.

Soifon gasped, her body arching against him, his name on her lips. Grimmjow growled against the skin of her neck, the sound as primal as the feeling in him. Her fingers dug into the powerful muscles of his back as he realized that for all her sharpness Soifon had curves that the robes she wore didn't do justice too. It was a good thing he was a quick learner or the entire Division may have learned just who she was sleeping with if he hadn't kissed her when what little control she had left was gone. Of course it didn't help matters that he was loud enough for both of them and the entire division probably didn't think their boss was in love with Yoruichi anymore.

He rolled off to the side, lying next to her on the mats as they both tried to regain a normal breathing rhythm.

"For the commander of the stealth division, you sure can be loud," he said turning his head to face hers, his eyes dancing wickedly.

"That's why I have to get rid of you," she replied, "I keep you around and I'll never get any work done."

"Eh, let the green eyed one take the paperwork," Grimmjow muttered, "He's got a lot of waiting to do for that woman."

"A Captain's duties are more than paperwork," she replied pushing herself up. He grabbed her and laid her underneath him once more.

"I've got something in mind that doesn't involve any kind of duty," he said

"But I—"she began to protest.

"But I have two underlings to do the small amount of paperwork I have?" he said nipping at the skin of her neck, "One of whom is very, very good at taking orders?" He smirked and ducked his head.

Soifon tried to force the moan back as he sucked the smooth skin but found it impossible. The sound only seemed to egg him on. She was going to have to wear her yellow sash as a scarf if he kept going as he was. She tried to protest, to tell him that her life consisted of work, work and more work, but it sounded lame even to her ears.

"Come on Lin," he prodded, his voice a soft purr in her ear.

"What did I tell you about calling me that name?" she gasped out, trying to force some anger into her voice.

"Can't have a nickname for you?" he smirked, "well that's not fair if you call me 'Carpets'," he glanced at the floor, "Although now—"

"Captain Soifon?" Ulquiorra's voice came through the door.

"She's busy!" Grimmjow shouted over his shoulder.

Soifon kicked him, hard, and stood up, yanking her robe on and tying it up. Grimmjow may have considered Ulquiorra mildly tolerable now but at the moment he was considering all the ways to make that green eyed bastard want to replace those tear marks he had lost. Soifon shot a warning glare over her shoulder and opened the door.

"Ulquiorra," she looked at him. He regarded her calmly, "You've reached a decision then?"

"I accept your commission as Vice Captain of the 2nd Division," he said.

"Excellent," Soifon said, "Come back at 5pm and I'll go over what needs to happen."

He inclined his head and walked off. Soifon closed the door and turned around, looking for Grimmjow. All that was there were the cloths on the floor. She frowned and walked forward towards her bedroom, ignoring the disappointment that had started to surge through her. As soon as she stepped inside a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, blue hair tickling her ear as his mouth found the spot that he had marked her with.

"Five o'clock huh?" he smirked against the skin, "that gives us plenty of time to try out the other rooms in your apartment, Shaolin."

"Mm," she gave a found sound of agreement, loosening in his arms. He grinned before she turned suddenly and kicked him to the bed before climbing on top of him, throwing her robe over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist. Grimmjow grinned, "Call me that in public and I will kill you," she promised.

Grimmjow nodded in consent. He had definitely been elevated to at least bed sheets if she ever decided to kill him.

Break

Halibel stood concealed in the tree as she watched the pile of urns dwindle. The graveyard for what was now known as the Winter War stretched endlessly around her. The urns were simple affairs, smooth white stone that sparkled in the bright sun. It seemed so strange to her that that those jars contained the last remnants of life. Spiritual bodies dissipated, but these were all warriors. When they died their Zanpakuto's or something else of theirs remained. Now what could be identified was being buried. What couldn't be identified was buried in a mass grave under the main memorial. They were the unnamed ones, the ones that no-one knew.

Halibel couldn't help but wonder if they thought their sacrifice was worth it. If they knew the very enemies they had fought against, who they had died to fight, if they knew that those enemies were now allies, would they find it in themselves to forgive? She didn't know if she would, but then, she had never been a terribly forgiving person. She watched the graves become filled and dirt cover the remnants of life. Her eyes continued to stray to the untouched pile, the unnamed ones. She could hear the screams if she listened, she could feel their blood running down the blade of her Zanpakuto as she killed again and again. Because of orders. Orders from a man who she knew was more of a monster than she was.

It was horrible seeing the graves there, seeing what her hands had done. She swallowed thickly, her hands balling into fists at her side. Now there was no enemy to fight to avenge them. She wanted to. She wanted them to know that they were not forgotten, that their lives were not wasted. She jumped down off the tree and shot to the 1st Division. It seemed that she was expected since no-one said anything about her walking up the path towards where the Commander General was. In fact, when she got to the door he was already standing just inside of it.

"You have reached your decision?" he questioned looking at her.

"I have," she responded, "I accept your commission as Captain of the 9th Division," she said, "I do have a condition."

"And that would be?" he asked.

"Sun Sun, the strongest of my Fraccion, she is in your custody. I will become a Captain on the condition that she and Neliel's Fraccion Dondochakka are given the same choice that we were," she said.

"We are not completely heartless, Captain Halibel," he said, "They were given a choice and both have elected to become Shinigami."

"Very well, then my condition is that Sun Sun joins the 9th Division as my 3rd Seat."

"She will be given the examinations, if she passes she will join you as your 3rd Seat," he replied, "Do you find that acceptable?"

"Yes," he said.

"Excellent," she said.

"Halibel," Gin grinned at her appearing behind her, "You're looking well," she looked over at him.

"You need to sleep more," she said bluntly, "You look more like a raccoon than a fox."

"Ichimaru Gin," he said, "Thank you for accepting my invitation," he motioned him into the room, "Captain Halibel," he looked over his shoulder at the woman before extending her haori at her which she accepted with a nod of thanks, "Follow me," he motioned Gin into the building of the 1st Division, "You're wondering why I asked you here."

"A bit," Gin admitted, trying not to feel absolutely terrified of the old man with the cane, the Commander General who had failed him so many times as a leader. The smile did not waver.

"As you are aware the 'cure' for the Vizards worked. We know this because Kurosaki Ichigo has no traces of ever containing a Hollow presence within himself," Gin's eyes widened fractionally, though the gesture did not go unnoticed by the soutaicho, "Yet, when we went to go and take the others for testing, they were gone," he reached into the folds of his robe and extended a piece of paper to Gin, "You may read that later," he said, "They are gone and we have come to the decision not to chase them," he looked at him, "The original plan was to offer them the Captain vacancies but that is clearly not a viable option anymore," he looked at him, "The former Espada have all proven themselves to me and the other Captains."

Gin nodded.

"As have you," Gin's eyes widened once more, "With the Vizard's decision to leave Soul Society behind them there is still a vacancy," he looked off into the distance, "You have always been a formidable opponent, Gin, even as a child, your power was close to Vice Captain level. Anyone who stood in your way you got rid of," he looked at him, "I believe you have learned that lesson."

Gin nodded, trying to force the image of the illusion dissipating, of his eyes following Shinso's blade up to Matsumoto's chest from his mind.

"Therefore," he stopped and turned to him, "On the recommendations of Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Hinamori and Captain Kuchiki I would like to formally offer you your old position as Captain of the 3rd Division."