Yeah, two for one posts today. Have fun.

I'm willing to take suggestions as to which shinigami Vellena should fight later on in the story (because you know, she's got to fight at least ONE. It can't all be Grimmjow and Nnoitra). Sorry – Ichigo is OP – he'd kick her ass to the curb. So there won't be any Ichigo vs. Vellena action. If you're interested in sending your two bits, pm me and give me your suggestion and your rationale. It should also be a character that has had some screen time fighting – I need to be able to write the fight. I have three potentials in mind, but I don't want to spoil it for anyone by discussing it here. If you want to know my picks, ask me in pm.

Just a note, this is not a vote. I'm looking for well-reasoned arguments and suggestions. I'm not looking for sheer numbers. And if I choose one of your suggestions, I will mention that you made it. I'm looking to write this fight soon, so get me your feedback by the 21st of September 2009 if you want to affect this. Yeah it's not long, but I want some time to think about the fight.

I'm thinking we'll see a shinigami fight about chapter 17. I'm hoping to up the posting speed here, but lemons and fights take longer for me to write than other material. I think the delay comes through in terms of greater quality (I've seen a LOT of badly written lemons and fights both), but it does take effort, and time.

Those of you who have been wondering about where this fits into the Bleach timeline will have your questions answered in Chapter 14. Now, I think that's long enough for an Author's Note, don't you?

Chapter 11

The sound of her steely voice screaming his name was music to his ears. Really, any woman's voice was music when it was your name being screamed, from what you were doing to her. Grimmjow still relished it. He was feeling very satisfied (self and otherwise) right now, and rather pleased at having defrosted the ice bitch. She'd had actual reactions! He was very relieved that she wasn't a female Ulquiorra. That would have been a complete killjoy.

She was a sight, cut up and crusting blood where he'd managed to get through the gaps in her armour, mostly naked and still looking dazed and reeling from their passion, dusty green hair disarrayed, a fading flush from her breasts to her cheeks. It was almost enough for him to give her another round right then and there. But if he gave into that, he'd never get back in Las Noches. And Aizen had another of his stupid tea parties scheduled for later, and he really shouldn't skip that, as much as he'd like to. Speaking of tea parties, he realized abruptly that he didn't recall her having any food since she'd arrive here. That was … what, three days ago? Something like that? Was that his responsibility? …Oops.

Well he wasn't exactly used to playing the good host.

Vellena appeared to be attempting to relocate her clothes. His mouth twitched in a grin as she fished her torn underwear from the sand. She hadn't quite recovered her emotionless mask fully, and he was terribly amused to see her give the ripped garment a nonplussed look, before tossing it away. Going for his own fundoshi (which were unharmed, ha ha), he chuckled. Her head swiveled at the sound and she fixed him with a look that was probably supposed to be a glare but kind of failed when her eyes roved over him, apparently without her permission, to judge by her slight flush.

"What?" he grinned, all innocence. "You don't really need those, do you? I think you look better out of them." She definitely blushed at that. Oh that was too rich. He bared his teeth predatorily at her, making sure she noted his own wandering gaze as he admired her strong, lithe body, her dusky plum skin, glorious breasts... Her blush deepened. He shook the sand out of his underpants and donned them nonchalantly. He found he loved getting under her skin almost as much as he'd loved getting into her. She seemed somewhat more open, less controlled, as though he'd loosened the seal on her emotions with his lovemaking. He liked that he could have that effect on her.

She hunted down the rest of her clothes, abandoning the bra he'd ruined after giving the destroyed piece an irritated glare. As far as he was concerned, he'd just scored two points for the way things should be, anyhow. In his inestimable opinion, women didn't need that shit, it just got in the way when he was trying to get into them. He thought it was kind of hot the way the laces he'd busted on her shirt caused it to hang open, showing just a hint of round, firm breasts. He loved it when women went commando. Not that he'd given her much choice in that matter.

"Hey," he said, causing her to look up wordlessly from where she was bent over, retrieving a piece of her armour. The pose was a good one, he thought – her ass was towards him, pert and lovely, and she was looking over her shoulder back at him. She said nothing, looking at him expectantly. "You hungry?" he asked.

She straightened, lifting the cuirass, turning to face him.

"I could eat, but it's not urgent." She said. He felt a little bit relieved to hear that, to tell the truth. He kind of didn't like the idea of her feeling deprived, and blaming him for it.

He nodded in response. "Aizen has a meeting in a few hours, I need to go to that and he'll probably want you there. I'll take you to the mess and you can get something to eat before the meeting." He said. She gave a curt nod.

"I wish to return to my rooms first. I wouldn't mind using the rain—er, shower." She gave the sand a distasteful look that he fully understood. There was grit under his balls from the inadequate shakeout he'd given his underthings. And the showers in the wing she was in were as big as Espada showers, which is to say, there was more than enough room for two in there. It was an idea worth pursuing.

"Yeah," he said. She finished gathering up her armour. Instead of putting it on, she put it in one of those magic bags. It was very strange to watch her put something like her metal leggings into a bag the size of a coin purse. When she'd retrieved her weapons from the sand, cleaned them off and sheathed them (it seemed she was unwilling to go unarmed, even if she would go unarmoured for a short time), he opened the garganta.

They stepped from the shining path through the darkness into her rooms. She gave him an unreadable look, and he shrugged. "Figured this would be more convenient for you," was all the explanation he was willing to give her.

He didn't want to admit to himself or to her that he just didn't want anyone seeing her with that just-fucked look, radiating that unconscious sensuality and voluptuousness that some women seemed to emit after great sex. His scent was all over her, mingling with her own nearly-nonexistent scent. He wasn't the only arrancar in this place with animalistic senses, there were plenty in the halls of Las Noches who would know exactly what had happened between them if he let her wander the halls like that. While it was no secret that Grimmjow was something of an arrancar Casanova, he was supposed to be her liaison, not her lay.

He especially did not want Nnoitra, who would definitely cause trouble, catching wind of this. The pervert Quinto was no doubt nursing a grudge towards Vellena since she kicked his ass in the sparring room. Between Nnoitra's misogyny and hatred of Grimmjow, he wouldn't put it past spoon-head to try to rape and/or murder his sexy little night elf, especially if the other Espada cottoned on to what was going on. As far as the Sexto was concerned, Vellena was his now. Aizen might not agree, but what asshole-sama didn't know, didn't hurt him.

She made a beeline for the shower. Suppressing a grin at the thought of her naked and wet, he left for his quarters. He wanted to grab a fresh uniform and a towel, and then he'd be back as fast as he could. After retrieving said items, he made his way back to Vellena's quarters. He could hear the sound of the shower already running.

He put the clean uniform on the couch and then began to strip, tossing the sandy, sliced-up, and bloody remains of his current garments on the floor with little care. Only his black obi, on which Pantera was sheathed, was treated with any respect. His zanpakutō he laid beside the fresh uniform gently. He flung his fundoshi aside, and then entered her bathroom, towel draped over his shoulder.

Tossing said towel on the white stone counter, he pulled open the shower door. She was facing the door, apparently aware that he was in the room, looking very surprised at his sudden appearance in her shower. He took in the sight of her glorious, strong, curvy body wreathed in suds, dewy drops of water on her large round breasts, wet, soapy green hair framing her sweet, heart-shaped face, lips plump and bruised and full from his earlier ministrations… His breath hitched. He stepped into the shower and cut off her exclamation with a kiss.