Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo, meaning it does not belong to me. I am in no way, shape, and/or form claiming to be the owner/creator of these concepts, though I do claim any characters not apart of the original Bleach storyline (such as Aporro [in character, not name] and Vicenta Acere) mine. As such, I would appreciate fellow authors and readers to give credit where credit is due and not steal any of my characters and/or concepts. Thank you, and have a pleasant day.

Aporro watched the monitor in front of her, feeling so smooth and cognizant for the first time in a few weeks that she nearly wondered if it weren't a dream. Even if it was, she wasn't particularly sure she liked it…

Idly, her focus shifted through the split screen view of different sectors of El Sanctuario, both inside and out.

On the main view in front of her, she watched as Szayel dissected some poor, condemned soul who had (according to the records he'd gotten from Kurotsuchi) been doomed to become a Hollow, anyway.

The fact really didn't stop her from feeling a tinge of guilt when the still-cognizant human screamed… though the endlessly sexy image of Szayel spattered in a light coat of blood did do something to dull that.

On the dozens of smaller views that boxed the main image in, hallways, room, crossroads within the complex and the sands of Hueco Mundo on the outside moved or stayed stationary, giving her as complete a map of what was going on in their home as anyone else could possibly have.

Though she wasn't too keen on the idea, Aporro couldn't very well deny the fact that she did this frequently out of worry for all of the Arrancar she had inadvertently become the matron of, thanks to the actions she'd taken so long ago when she had been human.

While the job really was something of a pain in the ass, Aporro admitted to herself with a small smile that it really wasn't all that terrible.

Much as she screamed and bitched at all of the lesser Arrancar who happened to cross her path and piss her off, she genuinely did care for their wellbeing and, for some reason or another, instinctually cared for the wellbeing of all Arrancar.

She supposed it was residual from having to be the speaker for the Arrancar during the early stages of negotiation with the Seireitei to exclude the entire population of El Sanctuario from the Seireitei's list of Hollows who were to be hunted or killed on-site.

She also supposed that it was why she constantly felt she had to be a nosy bitch and butt in when it looked like things were going wrong.

Like they were now.

One of the smaller views that boxed in the view of Szayel poking at the gallbladder of the condemned soul started to flash red, making Aporro snap out of her rather bland thoughts and pay attention.

When she saw it was the view of her daughter's lab, she reached out and tapped two separate locations on the entire blank span of glass-like material in front of her, resulting in two separate, unmarked squares flashing and the computer obeying whatever command she had typed in; the result being the main view switched to the flashing red view of Vicenta's lab.

Aporro would probably never forgive Szayel for making his son-of-a-bitch keyboard so goddamned complex, with no visible markings for any specific keys or even what each key stood for, but then again it wasn't really any of her business.

Szayel's keyboard, both the rigid and limp aspects, belonged to him and him alone, and the fact that she could use it as well as she could only showed that there were certain functions on it he allowed her to use, so she really shouldn't bitch…

…Even if he was being indirectly condescending and allowing her to use these functions for the sole purpose of keeping her entertained.

A situation which was very much unlike the one with their daughter, whose keyboard was almost unnecessarily complex for the sole purpose of keeping anyone who didn't belong on it off.

Aporro sighed as, once again, her mind strayed from the main topic, as it had a habit of doing when she tried to make a mental image of how she imagined her mate's keyboard to work.

While Szayel wasn't as computer savvy as Vicenta, he was by no means stupid at it; Szayel knew every aspect of how his technology functioned inside and out and would be able to function with it fully if he were blinded, deaf, had one hand crippled and was suffering from a concussion.

What made Vicenta so much more brilliant was her ability to adapt readily; to accept systems that were not made by her own hands and to figure out how these systems functioned quickly; to use more than one kind of MO.

In short, to keep a plethora of schematics that were both open and closed to change ready in her mind at all times so that she could completely and utterly destroy any ingrained protection in her path in order to get what she wanted.

And as Aporro stared at the flashing red image in front of her, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

The image displayed Vicenta's main lab, her primary computer running about several different programs all at once but the one that was foremost calling for help.

One of her programs was crying its master's assistance.

Apparently, another one of the Hueco Mundo Mapping System cameras had been taken out.

A situation which made Aporro about as frustrated as Vicenta would be.

Because Aporro knew that she wouldn't be able to fix this without informing Vicenta of the situation, which was counterproductive to sending her away in the first place.

And now Aporro had a headache.

Aporro sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Now she remembered why she wasn't particularly fond of being lucid.

Szayel Aporro had purposely picked scrubs that breathed well for this particular dissection, and it was because of a fact that only he and his mate knew (though he wouldn't deny that others could probably readily speculate and derive conclusions that were extremely close to the real reason).

The reason was simple yet morbid; Szayel liked to feel the blood against his skin.

He enjoyed the wait that came with the time that lapsed between when blood first touched the fabric to when it finally seeped through enough for his nerves to register the wetness; he relished the way that same wetness dragged across his skin with every move and surely, every time, dyed his skin a faint red that would remain well past the first five minutes of the hot shower he would take before he went to bed every night.

He loved how it, with the live subjects, started as warm and gradually cooled, or how it, with the deceased fresh from refrigeration, went from freezing cold to whatever his body temperature happened to be at the time…

Though this morbid fascination didn't apply to all vivisections or autopsies he performed; no, he usually only wore strict cloth scrubs when he was performing vivisections on humans.

Save the fact that it was difficult to keep a spiritual body intact when the consciousness had passed on, the death of the body lead to the innate reiryoku that it held dispersing into the air, leaving the body feeling stale in more ways than one.

With living humans, Szayel could still feel their reishi dancing on his skin and while it was no substitute for devouring human souls, it was as close as he was ever going to get.

…That and, admittedly, the sensation was quite pleasant.

A pleasant sensation which contrasted sharply with how his mate's reiatsu felt against his skin when she was extremely irritated or even angry.

Which was why Szayel was glad she was neither when she walked into the necropsy room; slightly stressed, yes, but not angry.

Szayel thought it best to distract her before her stress escalated to irritation or anger and she killed the delicious mood in the room, "Aporro, come clamp this vein off with a hemostat."

Aporro sighed, closing her mouth and letting the words die in her throat as she walked across the room briskly and ran her hands through the sink before grabbing a locking, scissor-like clamp with dripping fingers and hovering over the incision he was working on.

The time she spent looking for what he wanted clamped and actually clamping it allowed her to gather her thoughts, and she barely registered the zipper-like series of clicks that followed the sealing of the hemostat before she started talking.

"Another one of Vicenta's camera pods was destroyed."

Szayel's hands paused automatically so he didn't make an accidental cut as his body allowed his mind time to register what his mate had said.

"…Are you completely sure?"

"Well, I would ask Meryl, but she's busy going haywire right now and Vicenta's lab is on lockdown. I'm fairly sure I didn't misread what I saw on the security camera, though… And, unlike the PAPA unit, this one managed to send footage back."

"…Hand me those long, silver pins one by one, will you?" Szayel set his scalpel aside, ignoring the incoherent mutterings of the soul on the table as he peeled the dermal layers on the man's right bicep aside to reveal the convulsing, dark red and marbled bulk underneath. "What did you see on the footage, Aporro?"

"What do you think?" Aporro asked back in a slightly scathing tone, handing him the first of several long needles, "A small, humanoid form and a flash of white near the face and arms that I could only assume was a mask."

"So you're under the impression that it was another Vasto Lorde…" It wasn't a question, and Szayel sighed softly behind his surgical mask as he pushed the extremely sharp, fine tip of the needle through one area of a flap of skin.

Aporro snorted, handing him the next needle and flinching slightly when he pushed it through like he had before, a perfectly measured inch and a half to the right of the last one.

Szayel glanced up at his mate, chuckling slightly when she saw the disgusted face she was making. She never had liked vivisections…

"Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go, lemme go, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts, I want my MOOOOMMYYYY!!"

Aporro hissed and spun around, grabbing the first partially full syringe she saw and stabbing the soul in the thigh.

Szayel sighed as she medicated the muttering and whimpering man, turning back to his work and picking up his scalpel again, "You're lucky that was an anesthetic; I would have been quite irritated if you had wasted a perfectly good virus."

"He was in pain…" Aporro muttered in her defense.

"He was in shock, Aporro. I can assure you, he can't feel a thing."

"Isn't that also what you assumed when I let you medicate me on that experimental drug of yours so you could remove my appendix?"

"Well, you weren't in pain, were you?"

"Worse. I was conscious and paralyzed and you know it."

"And I thank you for your understanding in that matter, love." Szayel purred, pulling down his mask long enough to lean across the body on the table and give her a not-so-chaste kiss, "I really do."

Aporro glared at him, snapping her teeth threateningly, "Don't tempt me, dear."

Though the irritation between them was palpable, they still smirked at one another before Szayel nudged his mask back into place and went back to work.

Assuming he was done with her, Aporro sighed and turned away, moving to wash her hands again, "…It seems odd that the Vasto Lordes are deliberately going out of their way to destroy the pods, doesn't it? I mean, Vicenta does have them set to fly rather high…"

"Hmm… Considering it was the oldest apparatus that was attacked first, I suspect that there must have been something wrong with it that annoyed whatever attacked it." Szayel sighed, stepping back from the table and flicking his bangs out from in front of his mask, "And if matters are grave enough, word does travel between Vasto Lordes, so…"

"So they're out there playing Telephone?"

"…If you wish to put it that crudely." Szayel shrugged, turning back to the condemned male soul and taking his scalpel to his groin.

Aporro glanced back at him and made a face, turning a light shade of green before walking to the door briskly, "Let's not tell Vicenta about this unless it becomes a problem."

"Agreed." Szayel mumbled distractedly, setting his scalpel aside and grabbing a razor so he could properly prepare his subject for a thorough examination.

"…And Szayel?"

The former Octava paused and glanced over his shoulder, quirking a brow.

Aporro stared at him flatly, "Your complete disrespect for another man's gnads has me concerned for your sexuality."

Szayel stared after his mate with a blank face as she walked out, then turned back to shaving his subject's pubic region.

It would appear as though he would have to placate her concerns when his work was finished…

Grimmjow lounged on his mate's bed and stared at the ceiling, pissed but in too much of a cat-like, languid mood to take it out on anyone. He always got like this when he stayed still for too long.

…The former Sexta decided he needed to do something.

Heaving a loud, angry sigh, he swung himself to his feet and ran a hand through his hair roughly, shoving his other into his pocket and marching to the door.

At his side, Pantera beat against his hip more than usual with every stride and, briefly, it almost seemed to him like it was begging for a battle…

…Actually, Grimmjow started to think with a wide, crooked grin, a spar didn't sound half bad.

In fact, it sounded like just what he needed.

And as he walked out of Vicenta's room, who should walk by but—

"Aporro-bitch!"

The woman's thin shoulders stiffened and her head snapped back over her shoulder, hair flying in a pink wave and amber eyes glowing lividly even as a toothy grin split her face.

"Yeah, Jaegerjackass?"

"Ya up for a spar?" Grimmjow asked, beating her grin with one of his own. After all, unlike her he had fangs even in his sealed state.

Aporro looked him up and down slowly, her lips sliding back into place over her teeth and curling into a wide, sinister smirk as she nodded slowly, "Sure, I could spare some rage for a few blows…"

And that was what Grimmjow loved about sparring with the bitch; when it came to fighting, she never talked down to him. And unlike that punkass Kurosaki, she had no problem pounding him when he slipped up and took a harsh blow.

Of course, he was always more than willing to return the favor and plow her into the training mats when she left her guard down… though he did know when to back off.

The woman really could be a bit brainless about fighting, and when she got into it she would refuse to give up, even when she knew she was down for the count.

The second they stepped foot into the training complex, Pantera was drawn and sparks were showering as their two bodies collided, Barracuda Bicuda screaming in protest as it scraped its way down Pantera's jagged blade.

Grimmjow grinned down at Aporro, who smirked back up at him, her eyes dancing.

"Eager, aren't ya, Aporro?"

"So I got stress to burn? Fight back already."

Chuckling, Grimmjow swung them around and threw Aporro back across the mats, watching as the former Octava's specially made, shock resistant floors held out as they always had where normal flooring would have cracked, peeled back on itself and rippled.

As they threw themselves at each other over and over, swords clashing, ceros flying and even a few punches being thrown, they fought off their own angers and stresses:

Grimmjow fought off the annoyance of having his mate a world away.

Aporro fought off the worry and paranoia at the possibility that one of her daughter's experiments had gotten them in trouble.

Unaware, they both fought off stress Vicenta had inadvertently caused…

Gradually, Grimmjow and Aporro forgot, lost their reason and just fought.

Fun in The Sanctuary~!

Philandering Phail…

Aporro watches amusedly as Szayel unabashedly flirts with Cirucci.

She smiles as her mate runs his fingers through the former Privaron's hair, and she giggles when her mate plays his lips along the woman's jaw.

Vicenta, Grimmjow and Lilinette watch worriedly as Aporro just continues giggling in the face of Szayel's blatant cheating with his former flame and Aporro's former cause of much despair and heartache.

"Er… Aporro…?" Lilinette reaches out hesitantly, poking the woman's side and hiding slightly behind her lunch tray when the woman turns to her with an all too-wide smile, "You… uh… do see what Szayel's doing… right?"

"Of course I do, silly!" Aporro giggles, petting Lilinette's head before standing and grabbing her tray, "He's pulling the most obvious stunt yet in his attempts to get us to end this little celibate stint we have one another on." Abruptly, she deadpans, her tone icy, "It's not working." She then turns cheery and starts giggling again, turning and heading to drop off her tray in the kitchen, "If he asks, I'm going to the Seireitei! Captain Kyoraku and Captain Ukitake invited me over for tea and sake." She pauses, then glances back and smirks, "Tell him Stark went with me."

Vicenta, Grimmjow and Lilinette stare after her as she saunters out of the dining hall, then turn back to watch Szayel and Cirucci.

Cirucci is still kissing along Szayel's neck feverishly, but Szayel is staring after his mate with a highly annoyed look on his face, one eye twitching. Szayel mutters something to Cirucci, who rolls her eyes and turns back to her lunch as if nothing had happened.

The three Arrancar watch (now highly amused) as the former Octava gets up and storms over to them, his face pink both from embarrassment and slight arousal.

"So, Dad…" Vicenta drawls, propping her elbow up on the table and leaning her cheek against her hand, smirking up at her father amusedly as he glares down at her, "What'd you bribe Cirucci with to get her to participate in that little display?"

"Nothing important." Szayel answers immediately, twitching, "Where is your mother going?"

"On a date…" Lilinette answers, sipping at her juice box and throwing Szayel a devious smirk when he glances at her, "With Stark in the Seireitei."

Szayel twitches, his flush darkening, then turns and stomps to the door, muttering various, multilingual obscenities under his breath.

Grimmjow snorts, rolling his eyes, "Those two deserve their own soap opera… Or maybe a sitcom."