Hey. Been a long long time. Only posting on AO3 these days. Decided to post this chapter for the few still following me here on ffnet. BUT, I will only be posting the next and final sex filled chapter over on AO3. So you have been warned. Love comments and feedback. 3

Chapter 5

"I really appreciate your hospitality."

They walked in stride along the road towards the centre of town, the sun's rays sliding between the cracks in a hundred years of old growth forest which surrounded the town, turning the distant sky and rutted ground before them a blend of yellow and orange where it found its way through. Ichigo watched the sky. The birds were up and singing around them as they walked.

It was beautiful.

It was peaceful.

"But you really must go."

Ichigo smiled fondly at the man who had been so kind to him these past few days.

"Yes. Probably right after breakfast." A few more steps found Ichigo correcting himself for sounding like he was going to eat and run. "I mean, I wouldn't want to bring trouble to your town."

Urahara knew the gist of it. What kind of trouble Ichigo had on his tail. And just how far he'd have to run to escape it.

"Oh, well..." Urahara's smile was bright, and as he chuckled it only reinforced the constant feeling that Ichigo was really not quite in on the big joke. "We're quite well acquainted with trouble."

They didn't seem to be. And bounty hunters, if they found him here... The townsfolk would try to protect him. And Ichigo didn't want to be responsible for what might happen to the nice people who lived here.

"But of course I understand if you want to be on your way." Urahara gave him a single heavy squeeze on the top of his shoulder. "I will worry about you though... if you don't mind."

"I can handle myself alright," he replied with a surge of indignant defiance, mustering all the manliness he could to sound convincing, but not really convincing either of them in the end. Could he? Handle himself? How he'd ended up here didn't really suggest that. But he needed Urahara to believe he would be alright. He could see that the man's concern was genuine. Best to leave him with the thought that the one they had saved would one day be free and living the life they hoped he would. Not bound and hung from a rope and left for the birds to peck at after a long lonely drop.

"I know you can." Urahara tipped his hat with a nearly elegant touch of his finger and thumb, though his smile this time didn't impress. Ichigo nodded. There was nothing left to say.

The smell of breakfast hit them in the richest way as they approached the watering hole at the centre of town. Ichigo knew what to expect now.

Baked beans, eggs, bacon, ham, potatoes, fruit, coffee... Ichigo's stomach vibrated with aspirations of gorging. Urahara had already demanded it of him and insisted that they'd load him up with enough supplies to see him through several days before he left. Ichigo was selfishly happy to oblige.

God, it was heavenly. And Ichigo felt his feet pick up to follow the lead of his stomach. He'd need a good solid breakfast to get him through the day. He'd extend his supplies as long as he could because after that he'd be back to picking through plants and catching small creatures. If he could catch them.

The restaurant was already filling up when they pushed through the saloon style doors, the murmur of voices, the clatter of silverware, and the ubiquitous smell of fresh coffee making Ichigo feel like the long road ahead was even longer.

And lonelier.

He'd have called it a saloon back home, but it definitely didn't have that feel to it. The people didn't seem to drink much here if at all from what Urahara had said. No. It felt more like a dining hall, a hub for social gathering and feasting together.

Several townsfolk smiled at him and bid him good morning. He nodded back and looked out over the room, more than a few faces vaguely familiar now from his short stay.

He followed Urahara to the serving station, no money required. They used trade and hard work to keep the gears of their tiny town running smoothly. Everybody did their part. Everybody had enough.

Nirvana, some might have said.

Except, as Ichigo filled the last clean spot on his plate with golden fried hash browns, he flinched, a few small spuds falling to the floor in waste.

He couldn't have helped it. Something had caught his eye. Something so impossible that it sent a jolt through him that he could not control.

He only noted it vaguely when Urahara called his name, tapping once on his arm to direct him to the far end of the room where empty seats awaited.

But Ichigo's body and eyes stayed fixed.

Transfixed.

There. In the crowd.

Sitting alone. A man. Young. His body, large and built in a sinful design, his lower half hidden away by the table he was at.

And blue.

Eyes sharp and destructive and watching him right back.

Not looking at him like he was as curious stranger. More like... he knew him.

And he couldn't. Unless...

Ichigo was across the floor and weaving around the four small round tables full of onlookers in his path before he even thought about what he was doing. Or what he was going to say.

They had hardly taken eyes off each other right up until Ichigo reached his table and then just... hovered, staring down in wonder and growing horror at the man he thought he'd dreamed up last night. He'd even told Ichigo his name. Hadn't he? What was it?

The man's voice rolled over Ichigo and through him when he finally spoke. Because Ichigo was just staring. Thinking. Forgetting everything that had just rushed through his head on his way to confront him because... symmetry. He was beautiful up this close. Under the touch of daylight. Intelligent eyes, thick muscles, smooth skin on an angular face. And so bright. Everything about him designed to pull a person in, to devour them if they dared. In that way that nature only creates it's most lethal of creatures.

"C'n I help you?" Ichigo put his plate down on the edge of the table before he could drop it, a small tremor running through his hands like he had been threatened. Or maybe he was just afraid of what he was going to hear.

"Have we... met?" Ichigo had never felt so scrutinized, hesitant, as the man looked him over once, only his eyes flickering.

"Doubt it." But his need to know overrode the feeling.

"I saw you."

The bluenet's eyes drooped back at him in a facade of indifference.

"Did'ja."

Ichigo's pulse had picked up to a nifty pace, and he was starting to feel... less sure of himself as the seconds ticked by... maybe a little... floaty.

"You were in my cabin..." Ichigo blurted. Was he asking, or was he telling? Or was he accusing? He couldn't be sure of his own memories right now. Not with those cutting blue eyes studying him like they knew him, but denying him like they'd never tell.

A single eyebrow arched, but the calculation stayed firmly in place.

"Hn. Was I, now."

Ichigo didn't know if he felt angrier or completely deflated as he studied the man he was basically accosting in public. Who's name he still couldn't remember. He wasn't getting any answers. Just deflection, and he couldn't make any more of a scene than he already was. Well he could, but if he did, his instincts said it would hardly help. Something about him was so very different from everyone else he'd seen in town. The blue hair was a big start. But this stranger reeked of things less sociable and more black-underbelly of the town. The thought reminded him of just what he may have done with this stranger in the middle of the night.

"Last night. It was you," Ichigo snapped as irritation quickly overcame hesitation, making his voice sound very indignant, even to his own ears. "You broke in."

The man on the other side of the table stretched himself out as he leaned back into his chair, giving Ichigo a long narrowed look, one heavy arm laying across it still, holding claim to his territory.

"Sounds like you have a very active imagination... new blood."

Ichigo drew back after a moment of being silently, cooly watched by the strange man he was accosting, noticing, really noticing, finally, that all the townsfolk were watching them both in careful silence. Kind of looking like they were ready to leave in a rush, actually...

Maybe. Maybe he did.

No. Wait.

Ichigo dug into his pocket and pulled out the coins he'd had when he'd come here. The ones he'd dropped. He opened his palm so the man with the wild blue hair could see.

The very same ones this character had returned to him in the dead of night.

In his room

And then...

They'd...

Oh god.

Ichigo felt his skin lose some of its heat as his blood retreated to safety, somewhere deep inside his core.

"That really wasn't a dream..."

The man tilted his head, the slightest grin ghosting against the corner of his mouth. A little playful. A little mean.

"Sure it was."

Holy shit?

"No," the ginger snapped, backing up a step, giving himself room to think, to put the pieces together. Goddamn, his head was fuzzy. This conversation should have been private. It was dangerous to speak of what they'd done. "You returned these." He thrust his palm forward, reaching out over the table, feet moving him closer again. "How the hell else would I have them?"

He was raising his voice in spite of drawing himself into the spotlight and acting a heathen under their hospitality. He had quite a temper when provoked. But this man had done nothing but return some coins and give Ichigo wet dreams. Right?

The blue-haired man seemed a little surprised at his gall, shoulders tensing as Ichigo thrust his hand out and hovered over him, before he realized that Ichigo didn't intend anything more than that.

"Okay," he rumbled slowly, nodding up at the fiery red-head, who was nearly on top of him now. "You got me. I did stop in to return your coins. I handed them to you at your door. You were pretty tired. I should've waited 'till morning, I guess," he shrugged.

Ichigo was speechless. He'd no argument left. And he was starting to feel a little stupid. Still confused. And now stupid.

And uh... he looked up at the people around him with a slow turn of his head in both directions. He straightened himself, fisting the coins. Embarrassment spreading like fire over his skin.

He jolted at the piercing screech of wood sliding along wood, attention snapping back to the blue haired man as he rose. To his full height. Several long inches above Ichigo, he noticed with a flush. He was tall, and his short sleeve shirt showed arms that were forged from many hard day's work of heavy lifting and wood splitting... and just about any other physical thing that could be thrown at him, Ichigo hedged.

"I apologize, Ichigo. It's no way to treat a guest." He said it calmly, but that grin was still hiding there, behind the calm mask, making Ichigo itch inside. He was never very good at being mocked or threatened. And this stranger was doing at least one of those things.

Ichigo could have let it go. Try to be the good guest that he was. But the man had to push a little further, didn't he. The bluenet stepped around him, enough room between tables that he didn't need to touch him. But he did.

"Name's Grimmjow." Stopping by his side, the stranger – Grimmjow. That was his name - leaned into him, warm breath sudden against Ichigo's ear, roughened growl just loud enough and rough enough for Ichigo to feel it reverberate down through his shoulders and into his chest. "And thanks for paying me back."

Ichigo stiffened as the implication set in.

Grimmjow.. He knew... what happened... afterwards. But... that part really was a dream. Wasn't it? Of course it was, but... Ichigo could tell a good dream from the real thing, God dammit!

A panic-fed burst of anger came out of nowhere that Ichigo could call a good place, and without another word between them he hooked Grimmjow's ankle with his left foot. And in the same dirty move, he shoved into the solid core of his body just as hard as he could. Because somehow, he knew he had to.

Blindsided, Grimmjow went down, taking a chair with him as he crash landed with a hard ka-thud onto the floor, a small plume of boot-tread dust rising from the well trampled wood.

Grimmjow gaped up at Ichigo in pure shock. As did every single person in the restaurant. A few utensils clattered, while some hung forgotten in the air. Grimmjow and every one around him looked like the sun had just fallen out of the sky and landed in a tiny fiery ball at his feet.

Ichigo took his eyes off the body at his feet just long enough to flit again to the astonished crowd. But when he looked back... there wasn't a body at all.

Ichigo gaped. No.

No. No. No. It wasn't possible.

He'd hardly taken his eyes off him. There was only once entrance. He couldn't have left without Ichigo seeing him go. And he knew he hadn't blacked out. He was sure of it. He was sure...

He was losing it.

"Ichigo?..." The voice was Urahara's, rich with concern. "Are you okay?" The floaty feeling had lifted, leaving him instead with a returning sense of unease. That the world, this world, wasn't right somehow. Not playing by the rules he knew.

"Where'd he go?" he asked stiffly. Urahara answered simply.

"He left, Ichigo."

"But I didn't see him..." He pointed to the floor. "He was right there."

"Yes. And he left. We all watched him go." Bullshit, whispered Ichigo's brain.

"He couldn't have just..."

"You look a little pale, Ichigo." He felt pale. The room seemed to come back to life like a switch, sounds of murmuring and scraping plates resuming. Ichigo stood and stared at the whole damn room until Urahara picked up Ichigo's plate for him and held out an arm to guide him to another table. "Why don't we sit and have something to eat, hmm?"

X X X

He was going to kill him.

Or at least attack him.

It was reflex. Emotional. Animal. He'd been challenged.

He'd couldn't say he'd never been attacked by a human before, because that'd be a big fat lie. There had been many a misguided stray come busting into his territory, thinking they could challenge the townspeople for their hard earned space. And every single fuckin' one of them had been ended in a bloody mess.

Whether by Grimmjow or his clan, or by the wolves he'd allowed to set on them.

Grimmjow growled. Freshly out of his den. He hadn't slept. He'd just paced underground while the sun shone on the town and on the orange haired brat until Urahara had come to talk him down.

The oranget had struck him.

And if Grimmjow's blood was boiling to strike him back one ounce...

He'd left. In a hurry and real quick. Used his power to move faster than the human eyes around him could track.

Because was strong enough to make that snap decision after so many hundreds of years of learning to control himself when his animal was at its closest to the surface. At its most untamed and scratching in rage to be free.

Ichigo did seem to have that affect on him.

The fuck.

The absolute... Grimmjow took in a huge breath of crisp night air that he didn't vitally need. But the feel of it always did great things. Always calmed him down. Kept him balanced between death and life, monster and human.

He perched on the apex of the roof of the building that housed his clan, dusk and the crickets enjoying each other as companions as the night set in, the swarms of mosquitoes brushing past him but never landing on his skin. Not even once.

No blood from which to draw life. Nothing to be found there but death.