A/N: My first Grimmhime fic. Please enjoy!

Hell's Chance

Chapter One: The Girl in Question

"Stop complaining. It's immature."

Grimmjow's scowl darkened. To him, it didn't matter how Ulquiorra tried to rationalize it. There was nothing remotely glorifying about guard duty. That was a job more deserving of a lower-level Numeros not a high-ranking Espada. The fact that Ulquiorra had been pigeon-holed into doing it himself all this time only served to convince him of how far he'd fallen. And despite the warning, he summarized his discontent in the most eloquent way he knew how.

"This blows."

"If you choose to abandon your orders," warned Ulquiorra, "I'll have to inform Aizen."

"Is that how you fight your battles now?" scoffed Grimmjow. "By threatening to tell on your opponent? You're saying I'm immature?"

But rather than respond to his crackling aura of hostility, Ulquiorra regarded him like he did everyone else…by not regarding him at all.

"We're here."

The two ended their trek at the cell holding the girl in question.

"Normally, it would be a waste of my time to call attention to your new responsibilities. But in this case-"

"Please. She's a sixteen-year-old girl. How much of a threat could she possibly be?"

"Obviously you've never spent much time with a sixteen-year-old girl," said Ulquiorra. "Or with any girl for that matter."

He growled at the jab. "What we're talking about here is babysitting. Last time I checked, anyone with an IQ below Wonderweiss could do that."

"Then I suppose you'll have no trouble then."

"Get bent."

An odd movement that looked suspiciously like a smirk crossed over Ulquiorra's face.

"The food cart is brought in twice a day: once at noon and again at six. She eats little. Sometimes not all. In which case, you may need to use force."

"Great."

"Non-fatal force."

"Great," he said dully.

"Other than that, she'll need no more tending to. Also, if she asks to use the privy-"

"Just give me the damn key already."

Ulquiorra reached into his pocket as Grimmjow held out his palm like it was about to be sneezed on. But to his surprise, Ulquiorra did not immediately relinquish it. Instead he looked like he was experiencing what might have been a moment of hesitation. Though it was hard for Grimmjow to tell since his face had about as much emotional range as a cinder block.

"The girl can be very emotional. It can be very annoying."

"I'm sorry. Did we not just establish that she was sixteen?"

"Yes. But understand that this girl is…different."

"So she's like, what, a transgender or something?"

Ulquiorra shut his eyes.

"What I'm trying to say is that since her outbursts are about as tolerable as yours, they shouldn't be encouraged. The best way to do that is to be sensitive to her needs."

Grimmjow looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone standing behind him.

"You do know who you're talking to right?"

Ulquiorra sighed as he handed over the key.

"Is it really too much to ask for you to take this seriously?"

"It's not actually. But being serious is what takes the fun out of it."

According to his calendar, which was basically a collection of tics he scratched onto a wall, Grimmjow spent a total of seven days on guard duty.

One week that had passed at the pace of boulder snail crossing Hueco Mundo.

Though for all he knew, he might as well have been spending that time guarding a pet rock because all she seemed to know how to do was sit there and waste a significant amount of space that could have been given to an actual pet rock.

Looking back, their introduction was mostly an exchange of monosyllabic dialogue. On her part at least:

He was greeted to the sight of her sitting primly at the end of the couch, head bowed and hands clasped together like someone about to martyred. The way her body silhouetted against the cold moonlight made for apicture depressing enough to make moments with Ulquiorra seem like New Year's.

It was a while before she noticed him.

"Oh," was all the eloquence she could muster as she slowly began to register that he was a different person.

"Ulquiorra…?"

That she was thinking of someone else while he was doing her the favor of keeping her alive made his teeth clench.

"There's been a reassignment."

She regarded him warily.

"That means you and I get to be best friends."

"…okay."

That was pretty much it. She hadn't spoken a word to him since.

During his rotations, he couldn't help but think, "Seriously? This is what Aizen's been jacking off about this whole time?"

For fuck's sake, the woman could bend the fabric of reality! But rather than do the obvious and blow away every pathetic fuck that came within range, she chose to submit herself to those same pathetic fucks and get screwed over. That didn't make a lick of sense to him.

To add insult to injury, he was required to write "observation reports" about his semi-catatonic charge. But what the hell was he supposed to write about when all she did, besides eat their food, was take up precious oxygen?

Eventually his single-sentenced reports, which featured literary gems like: 'Actually moved a couple of inches today, but I might have been dreaming that' evolved into a series of drawings on the millions of things he'd rather be doing.

Like being in a coma.

His favorite drawing so far was 'Dear Ulquiorra' which became a whole goddamn masterpiece on the many ways he would kill the Cuatro Espada for assigning him the most boring task this side of hell. And also for being a total liar because the girl didn't succumb to any of the "emotional outbursts" he'd been warned about. From what he'd seen, the girl couldn't succumb to an emotional outburst any more than Ulquiorra would if he were pre-menstruating. Needless to say Ulquiorra was not amused with his works of art, but only commented:

"At least your penmanship's improved."

Grimmjow later learned that Nnoitra saved a copy of 'Dear Ulquiorra' and placed it on the fridge in Szayel's laboratory. The one place he knew Ulquiorra would never go. After that incident, Grimmjow was no longer required to do write-ups, which he supposed was the only good thing to come out of the shit hole he was in. Unfortunately his misconduct did not go unnoticed and he was brought in shortly after for an inquisition. But not with Ulquiorra.

With Gin Ichimaru.

"Wow. You're fucked," Nnoitra said delightedly as he led him to the Surveillance Tower.

"Can it, Overbite."

Surprisingly, his audience with Gin was a lot more civil than he thought it would be. At least, at first. Not a whip or chain or any other torture device in sight.

"Tell me why you think you're here, Grimmjow."

"I think I'm here because of some fag's overreaction to the doodles on my homework."

"Yea, well. Ulquiorra's always been a pretty serious guy. So, how is she?"

"Fine, I guess."

The cold silence that followed suggested that Grimmjow had given him the wrong answer.

"You guess?"

He tensed as the ex-captain stood up, placing his hands on either side of the table as he leaned in with his disconcerting predator's grin.

"Guessing is a word that is used by incompetent subordinates," he said quietly. "I'm actually disappointed, Grimmjow, I'd have thought you'd know better."

"Yea?" Grimmjow challenged. "What's it to you?"

He unsheathed his Shinso.

Grimmjow's hand itched for his Pantera, but the ex-captain caught the movement.

"Easy now," warned Gin. "We don't want none of that. Trust me."

Grimmjow snarled, but kept his fingers hovering over his zanpakuto.

He watched with wary eyes as Gin paced around the table. His shinso glittering like some preternatural fang.

"I'm a man of necessity, Grimmjow. Do you know what it means to be a man of necessity? It means that very often I have to do things that I don't want to do. It requires immense sacrifice…and very careful planning."

"What do you mean 'careful planning'?"

Half a blink later, he felt the steel curve of a wakizashi pressed against his jugular vein.

"It means that if you continue to go blunder through your duties like an idiot, you'll be interfering. Do you know how hard it was to switch Ulquiorra's rotation with yours?"

Grimmjow blinked.

"You… what? Why?"

Here the Espada noted how the unsettling grin had slid off of Gin's face. Truth be told, he didn't know which expression he hated least.

"I did for necessity. Ugly necessity. Now, I'm going to write off your childish behavior as a misunderstanding, but all I have to say to you is that you have to take good care of the girl. She is very instrumental to Aizen's plans. Aizen's plans can't afford to have liabilities… and neither can mine."

"Plans. Planning. Yea. I got that," Grimmjow echoed impatiently. "But what sort of plan are you talking about? And what does that have to do with me and her?"

At once, Gin sheathed his shinso. Grimmjow watched him with hackles raised.

"What I'm about to say to you...cannot leave this room." He cocked his head to side, his friendly grin returning. "I've already disabled the surveillance for this intervention. If I'm lucky, neither Aizen or Tousen will notice. Regardless, you have to swear that what I'm going to say to you will not leave this room. Or I'll kill you." He said the latter sunnily, as if he hadn't just randomly threatened his life. "Are we clear?"

Grimmjow eyed him balefully.

"Crystal."

The next morning, Grimmjow had an idea.

Granted, it might not have been his own idea. But it was an idea nonetheless. And it propelled him forward, gave him energy. Suddenly, he felt alive.

He pounded down the corridor that led to the armor ward. It didn't take much for him to get past security, a trouble he resolved by cold cocking the unlucky bastards with his fist. It took a while for him to search through the weapons storage, but eventually he found what he was looking for...

He burst into her room a few moments later, startling her out of gloomy reverie.

"Get up."

She didn't.

"I said get up!"

She scrambled off the couch, but made sure to put a few feet of distance between them.

"Here. Put these on."

He threw a long chain in her direction. There were cuffs attached to the end. She fixed him with a dull look of shock.

"Are you going to kill me?"

It was the most she ever said to him in the past seven days. A part of him felt inexplicably pleased, but he balled it up and cast it aside when he realized just how stupid she sounded.

"Why would I waste my time?"

When he saw that she wasn't going to put them on, he marched over to do it himself. He grabbed one of her wrists. Then frowned.

"You're hands are small," he said.

"I'm…sorry?" she said as he held up her fingers, surprised by their delicateness.

Grimmjow shrugged.

"Nah. They'll still fit."

She flinched at the harsh clank that followed.

"Too tight?"

"Um…no."

"Good."

He stepped around her to pick up the other end of the chain.

"What are you…?"

"Shush."

He unlocked the door to her cell and poked his head out into the hallway.

"Alright. Let's go."

"Go where?"

He tugged harshly at the chain.

"Ah!"

"C'mon."

He dragged her out like a forlorn puppy on the end of a leash.

Orihime cringed at the harsh desert sunlight, unused to its glaring brightness after her long captivity.

"I thought Hueco Mundo didn't have a sun?"

"It doesn't," said Grimmjow. "Aizen made an artificial one for Las Noches. He says it helps him keep an eye out for intruders, but I don't believe him."

"Then what…?"

She froze in mid-sentence as they came to a halt.

"What…what is this?"

They reached an exit that stood before a platform the size of a city. It was enclosed by what looked like thousands of rows of elevated seats, like in ancient coliseums. On the ground level were several groups of Arrancar engaged in armed combat. The clash of their swords rang through the air as the force of their balas shot through the earth. A few spectators gathered above them, trying to pass the time.

"Grimmjow-sama?" said a scruffy-looking Numeros he recognized as Tesla. "What are you doing here?"

A few of the others paused as Grimmjow came into the arena. It was rare that an Espada would come to their training ground since they hardly ever came into contact with those that weren't part of their Fraccion. Others wondered at the girl Grimmjow brought with him.

"Who is she?"

"Obviously one of Aizen's prisoners."

"Is she human?"

"I doubt it. But she doesn't look like one of us either."

Grimmjow surveyed the restless crowd with a look of mild annoyance.

"Everyone clear out!"

"No way," growled Loly. "This is our training ground. The Espada have their own."

"Well, I ain't there now. Am I?"

"What's this about, Grimmjow?" asked Menoly as she neared defensively behind Loly's shoulder.

"You want the short version?"

He grinned cruelly at their agitated faces.

"This girl?"

He yanked at the chain so that Orihime stumbled forward.

"I'm gonna train her."