He felt himself groan as a pulsing throb rang throughout his head. Everything hurt. Ichigo kept his eyes closed as his brain tried to work recalling foggy memories from his last moments of consciousness. Flashes of electric blue and a toothy grin were all he could grasp, a deep chuckle caused him to finally abandon the black veil of his eyelids. At first his sight was blurry, but after blinking several times he could see the ceiling of whatever room he was laying in. The ceiling was soon blocked from view as the kidnapper's face came in to view.

"You're awake, good. For a while there I was worried I had hit you too hard," Grimmjow smirked, "It'd be such a waste if my little strawberry died so soon." Ichigo scowled and sat up using his forearms as props. The older man straightened himself out before walking over to a counter lined with various alcohols and crystalline glasses. He took out two low ball cups and poured a coppery liquid into each.

"Where am I?" Ichigo asked, his mind fighting off the lingering effects of being bashed unconscious. The clearer his thinking became the more intense the panic feeling built in his stomach and started climbing into his chest. Whirling thoughts of 'What the hell had I been thinking' crashed through his head. Here he was, a simple college student with no real life value, sitting on a couch in what looked like the living room of a high class hotel suite with the prime murderer for some big time crime organization. A prime murderer walking towards him with two glasses of mystery booze.

Ichigo cast his eyes around the room seeing if there were any escape routes he could dash for.

The bluentte shove one towards his captive, "Drink it, it'll help with that throbbing shit you're probably feelin' right about now." Ichigo recoiled, pulling his legs up to his chest and pushing himself as far into the corner of the cream colored cushions as possible.

"No," he said. Ichigo glared up at the towering figure. Icy blue eyes narrowed as a strange grin spread across the man's face. He leaned down again, this time his face inches away from the boy's.

"I wasn't asking, you're going to drink this and if you refuse again I will enjoy making you do it. I promise you won't find as much pleasure from the latter option," his voice was low and so cold that Ichigo felt goosebumps raise all over his skin. His hands shook as he took the cup. Grimmjow leaned away and sat on a coffee table a foot away from the couch. Ichigo stared at it tentatively, he wasn't much of a drinker and his tolerance was terrible. He usually got drunk off a few beers alone.

"Drink."

The tone of that voice promised a world of pain if it wasn't obeyed. 'Down the hatch' he thought and slammed it. Ichigo immediately regretted his choice to drink it all at once. The liquid burned and stung his throat and his lungs felt like a horse had kick him.

"Fucking taste like a burned down house," he spluttered between coughs. Grimmjow let out a hearty belly shaking laugh before slamming his own.

"First time with scotch my little strawberry?" the hitman teased. He was given a scathing glare in return.

"Don't call me that, I'm not a strawberry and I'm not yours," perhaps it wasn't the brightest thing to do, talking back like that to a known killer, but if Ichigo was going to die he was going to go with his dignity intact. Grimmjow gave an appraising look to the college student on his couch. Then his face took on a cold visage. The goosebumps that had started to fade from Ichigo's skin returned tenfold.

"Look kid, it seems that you don't quite understand your...situation here. You know my name and my face. That alone means I should have killed you in that alley," he shifted forward, "You're lucky that I'm a sucker for a pretty face. But, this does put me in a rather precarious position since I have decided to let you live. I can't let you go off knowing who I am and what I do, especially knowin' your boyfriend is a high ranking detective. Can't have ya going off and making up with him and blabbing that I'm in town."

"Ex," Ichigo interrupted, "He's my ex-boyfriend." If his stare at that moment could be physically manifested the pillow on the opposite end of the couch would have been incinerated. Grimmjow guffawed.

"Whatever he is, or was doesn't mean shit I can't run the risk of some punk bitch running off and creating complications in the middle of my job. Which means, my little strawberry, until my business is finished in this town I can't let you go wandering off," Grimmjow's calloused hands took the empty glass from his captive set it next to its twin on the table. Ichigo couldn't stop the audible gulp at the predatory look on the other man's face. In a move faster than he could register the assassin grasped a fist full of orange hair practically lifting him off the couch. Hot breath rolled over his face and an errily soft voice whispered, "Until I'm finished in this town you are in fact mine." Grimmjow practically purred as he said it. Dropping the boy heavily back onto the couch he turned around and scooped up a wallet and a set of keys dropping them into his pants pocket. Ichigo let out a small yelp at the sudden decent.

"Now I gotta go hand in that sweet little present you gave me to my boss and when I get back I'll be sure to show you just how much I appreciate it," with a smirk and a tossed wink the kidnapper headed for a door on the far side of the living area. "Oh and this is a Los Noches owned building, everyone here is in our employ. The lackeys are under orders to keep an eye on you, so good luck trying to escape. If you get hungry feel free to order room service," with one last lingering stare Grimmjow slipped out of sight, the definite sound of a lock clicking in to place rang out like a death sentence.