Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Summary: Urahara's own dirty mind and over-active imagination get the best of him.

"What Happens in the Sparring Room..."

Urahara hooked his cane over his arm and lifted the hatch that led down to his elaborate sparring room. Well, more like sparring-room-slash-experiment-room-slash-portals-into-other-worlds-slash-Yourichi's-favorite-nap-place-room. It was big and had many secretive uses. Currently, the room was being used by Ichigo and his friends for training purposes. Urahara wanted to visit and see how they were getting on, and as he began making his descent, the sound of disembodied voices rose up to meet him...

"No, dude it's totally cool!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yey, I'm sure!"

"It's just that, you know, I've never touched one other than my own."

"Go ahead and touch it. Hell, just grab it. C'mon Ichigo, what are you afraid of?"

Urahara froze on the ladder. The first voice obviously belonged to Renji, the second to a hesitant sounding Ichigo. Urahara remained silent as Ichigo continued to speak.

"Whoa, it's big! But you know, these ridges-they look a little weird. And what's with the curvature?"

"Dude, uniqueness. Hey, can I see yours?"

"Sure."

"Damn, it's HUGE. I don't know how you handle this shit."

"Whatdaya mean? Just grip it, you idiot. Look, like this."

"Ohhhh!"

Urahara's eyes, mostly hidden in shadow beneath his hat, goggled out of his head as he listened in. He remained glued in place on the ladder as the conversation below went on, with Ichigo saying:

"Hey, this feels pretty good."

"I don't know, dude. Your base feels a little weird to me."

"Hey, don't insult my stuff when you got your hands all over it."

"Oh, I'm not. It's WAY impressive."

"You know, I'm not sure about this kind of experimentation. Handling another guy's equipment like this..."

"Nonsense. It'll help improve your technique."

"What's wrong with my technique?"

"Your moves need some work, dude. Just pounding into a guy the way you do is all well and good, but you need to learn to do it with some finesse, some variety-"

"Oh, really? And this coming from a guy who can't last 5 minutes-"

"Tch! Whatever!" There was a loud grunt, a brief pause, then:

"Hey, Ishida! How about you get yours up in here, too?"

"Ha! I don't think so..."

Urahara almost lost his grip on the ladder at the sound of a third voice. All kinds of crazy, obscene images went whirligigging through his brain, and Urahara wasn't sure if he should continue down the ladder, or scuttle back to the safety of his shop. Of course, his more salacious side wanted to stay and hear more, even as the responsible adult in him urged him to storm down into the sparring room and stop whatever was happening in there. While he dithered over his moral choices, Renji began speaking again:

"Aw, c'mon, Ishida...why not? Afraid yours won't measure up?"

"I don't want your hands anywhere near mine, Renji. You have no skill, and I prefer a more experienced hand. Namely, my own. No, I think I'll just enjoy myself while watching you two."

"Watching's totally cool." There was another low, throaty grunt, then:

"Hey, keep watching, Ishida. My awesome moves are totally about to finish Ichigo off."

"Not if I finish you off first!"

"Ahhh! Dude!"

At that, Urahara practically fell down the ladder. His drop into the training room was so abrupt, so noisy, that the threesome below froze mid-action. Urahara gazed up with embarrassment to see Ichigo and Renji standing in front of each other, battle poised, with Ichigo holding Zimbamaru and Renji holding Zangetsu. Ishida sat idly by on a rock.

"Good afternoon, sensei," said Ichigo in greeting.

"Good afternoon, Kurosaki," Urahara sputtered as he tried to collect himself. As he often did in awkward situations, he pulled out his fan and began fluttering it in front of his face. "And what are you boys up to this afternoon?" he managed to choke out.

"We're trying out each other's zanpakuto's," said Renji. "You wanna join in?"

"You wanna join in?" That phrase, paired with the now obviously innocent image in front of him, lost all of its lusty meaning. Urahara started backing toward the ladder, his fan fluttering wildly.

"No, thank you. For I am but a humble shopkeeper with a licentious, overactive imagination and too much time on my, er, hands..." blathered Urahara as he scuttled back up the hatch. Ichigo, Renji and Ishida all stared after him with perplexed expressions. After a moment, Renji said, quite innocently:

"Do you think it mighta been something we said...?"

End/Fin.

Yes, this is what I do when I'm sick...I craft elaborate dick jokes. Thanks for reading and I hope you laughed a little...:)