A/N: Yay, new chapter the mid of the god-damn day! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I disclaims.

Warnings: Mentions of fucking. Cussing. Torture. Mentions of mass-slaughter.

Nnoitra cracked open his good eye open to a room half lit by the dawn. He blinked sluggishly before very, very slowly rolling out of bed. He did so without making a sound. Something he was very good at. He scooped up his clothes of the floor quickly before turning to the bed to search for the bandana he had lost last night.

He froze.

The bed was empty.

Nnoitra frowned. Not bothering to put on his clothes he went to the bathroom. Also empty.

HE had been left? Oh hell no.

The espada yanked on his shirt and his pair of blood dotted jean from yesterday. He didn't even register his wound, as he hadn't last night when he had been fucking the blonde.

That damn blonde. Nnoitra wasn't some girl to be left in the morning. He was the one that was supposed to be doing the sneaking away in the early hours of the day. Fucking little prick. Images of the blonde riding him and smirking over his shoulder flashed in Nnoitra's mind.

That little slut.

Grabbing his jacket he made for the door...and was greeted by the smell of Ichigo cooking breakfast.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, in the last two months Nnoitra had developed a weakness for homecooked meals. Ichigo's homecooked meals namely.

Following his nose to the living room Nnoitra spotted his best friend on the couch, covered by a thin comforter. Next to the couch there was a small nest of blankets. Nnoitra half sneered at the thought of Grimmjow's lovey-dovey bitch holding his hand all night before entering the kitchen.

"Yo berry bitch, the fuck'd yer little blonde friend go?"

Ichigo didn't bother looking up from the eggs he was scrambling over the stove. "He had some business to take care of. Left a note."

Nnoitra snatched up the paper on the island that Ichigo had gestured to with his spatula.

It was short and sweet- 'Mouse business. 3 ya Ichi, call ya later.'

Nnoitra frowned. "The fuck's mouse business?"

Ichigo turned from the stove, two plates piled high with bacon, potatos, sausage, and eggs in both his hands. He smirked as he set one before Nnoitra. "Surely you've heard of what the great Hirako-taicho is famous for Nnoitra?"

Nnoitra's eye narrowed. "No, so fuckin' tell me." Nnoitra usually didn't concern himself with little details about other gangs. He left that to the people who gave a damn about that shit.

Ichigo opened a drawer and tossed a fork at the ill tempered espada. He grabbed one for himself and returned to the island.

"Torture." Ichigo's smirk grew at the sight of Nnoitra's one eye widening slightly. "Shinji is shinigami's number one information gatherer by means of torture. Sure," Ichigo mused. ",he's also a damn good Executer, but he enjoys torture more. As you may have noticed last night."

Nnoitra's looked up from the plate he was plowing through and grinned evily. "Poor berry, did we keep ya from yer beauty sleep?"

Ichigo ignored that comment. "I'd be more sorry for yourself Nnoitra." Ichigo looked directly in the gangster's violet eye. "Shinji only fucks guys once. Maybe twice."

Nnoitra looked at Ichigo blandly. "So what?" Nnoitra, as a rule, was almost exactly the same way.

Ichigo smiled sardonically. "If you haven't noticed yet, Shinji's different. They always want more. They always come back, whether Shinji'll have them or not. You're not gonna be any different, Nnoitra."

Nnoitra scoffed. "The fuck I ain't." Nnoitra didn't get attached to anyone. Grimmjow was an exception, like a brother. But he didn't fuck Grimmjow. Ever since he was a foul-mouthed too-tall kid running around Las Noches, he never got attatched to any one place, any one person. What was the point? He was just gonna leave sooner or later, was gonna get tired of that person. Either that or they were gonna die. Sooner or later the streets of Las Noches got everyone who lived there.

Nnoitra figured when his luck ran out it would be in Las Noches. Fuck getting old. He was gonna die full of bullets, going down fighting in that hellhole of a place. There was no other way he was going out.

Nnoitra took a sip of his orange juice and belched. Bottom line was that no person was gonna screw with his life so much that he would abandon his way of living. No matter how amazing they were in bed.

Finished with his meal, the espada got up to leave.

"How 'bout a wager then Nnoitra?"

The gangster froze at the entry way of the kitchen. He turned slowly crossing his arms over his skeltal chest.

Nnoitra contemplated the berry-bitch for a moment. The redhead was innocently moving the remains of his breakfast around his plate. He couldn't see the bitch's eyes but he could see the small smirk that graced Ichigo's face.

His eyes narrowed at that. "What kinda wager?"

Ichigo looked up, his eyes playful and his small smirk grown to full blown leer. A miniscule part in Nnoitra's brain was screaming at him to get out get out now you stupid fucker- but the espada ignored it. Nnoita Gilra didn't back down from any challenge. Especially from someone like Grimmjow's snarky bitch.

"If you're so confident that you won't end up sleeping with Shinji again this should be nothing." Ichigo paused, taking a small bite of potatoes. "If you manage to keep you hands off his ass for- let's say- two weeks?- I'll make you dinner every night for a month. How's that sound?" Ichigo's playful eyes danced over the rim of his cup as he took a sip of his orange juice.

Nnoitra glared at the redhead. "And if I lose? What then berry-bitch?"

"Let's just say…you'll owe me one." The redhead stood up to clear the island and dump the dishes in the sink for washing later.

Nnoitra's eye narrowed further before he got a grip on himself. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to do it. Shinji may have been a great fuck but damned if anyone could hold him down like the berry-bitch had Grimmjow. It was the was the redhead sounded. As if he had already won. Little fucker.

"Fine." Nnoitra enjoied the idea of free dinner for a month. No shitty cheap McHeartattacks. "We gotta shake hands er somethin'?"

"I was thinking something more like this." Ichigo pulled out a large bottle of burbon from the cubboard.

Nnoitra grinned. If he had learned nothing in the last couple of weeks was that Grimmjow's bitch was good at two things- cooking and drinking. Once the redhead even outdrank his boyfriend- and Nnoitra was the only one who had had that honor before the kid had come along. He had to admire how well the bitch could hold his liquor.

"Ne, it's not like I got shit ta do right now." The espada sauntered back into the kitchen as Ichigo placed two glasses on the island and filled them generously.

The redhead raised his glass, "To Shinji's ass."

Nnoitra sneered but tapped the edge of his glass to Ichigo's before downing in one go. He slammed it down on the counter at the same time as the berry-bitch and Ichigo immediately refilled it.

It was gonna be a long morning.

(I am a nerdy page break. FOR NARNIA!)

Shinji sneezed. The blonde slammed his car door as he rubbed his nose. Weird. Maybe he was getting sick.

It had taken him an hour to drive out to this old district of Grand Fisher and at this point the sun was mostly up. Out of the car he stretched as he looked around at the dirty apartment buildings and closed up shops, wincing at the lightning bolts of pain that shot up his spine from his lower back. Damn that espada and his huge dick. That gloriously huge dick. And that eye. The eye felt boring into him, at every part of him-

"Baka," he reprimanded himself as he walked around his car to pop open the trunk. "He was just a one night stand. Don't think yer gonna get screwed by that asshole espada again soon." The blonde suddenly pounded his fist on his car in frustration and disgust.

"God I'm such a slut!" he whined pathetically.

He had been talking to himself in this fashion most of the drive over. Since that incident five years ago he had never slept with an espada. That asshole Aizen had cost him many months of pain and hiding out at Ichi's and his brother's place. He had had to quit his job and had been shunned by shinigami of all ranks. And when things had really gotten bad, he had had to leave the country...

"Stop thinking about it, baka." Shinji told himself as he yanked a box from the trunk of his car and made his way to the nearest group of apartments. He had a job to do and he wasn't going to let bad memories distract him. The blonde pushed open the door with his shoulder, ignoring the bloody hand prints on the door handle, and headed up the flight of stairs that seemed as if they were going to collapse at any moment. When he came to the door marked '6' he shifted his box so that it was supported by his knee and arm then knocked with his free hand.

There was no sound for a moment and Shinji tapped his foot impatiently. Fed up he finally snarled through the door, "Fuckin' open up Byakuya!"

More silence. Shinji was seriously considering kicking down the door when there was a click and a very posh looking man opened was revealed, a bloody hand hanging uselessly at his side. Besides his hand the man looked completely composed and extremely out of place in the dirty apartment complex. He wore a casual suit that looked a hundred times more fancy on his tall, straight frame and his long black hair was swept back into a ponytail. Emotionless grey eyes flickered over the sight in from of him before he took a step to the side, allowing Shinji entrance into the apartment.

Shinji rolled his own eyes before shifting his box for better grip and brushing past the sixth division taicho.

"About damn time. You should stop by Ichi's new place and get that taken care of." Shinji dumped his box on a nearby table of the mostly empty apartment.

"Why would I go to that man's house? He is not legally qualified to administer medical attention."

Shinji refrained from rolling his eyes again, merely choosing to open his box and rummage through it for his favorite tools. As if the man had any room to care about whether something was legal or not. Geez, Byakuya could be such a snob sometimes…. But Shinji could ignore the proud bastard of a captain for the moment. He had a job to do.

The blonde made a noise of approval when he located what he was looking for among the various occupants of his box. After quickly scanning the room, he found an outlet and plugged his favorite 'toy', then cleared the table of his box, testing how strong it was. When he was satisfied with the stability of the piece of furniture, Shinji reached into his box and tossed Byakuya a rope. The taicho caught it with his uninjured hand.

"You think you can manage to tie he up when I take her out?" Shinji asked seriously. He did not want his subject to be handled but someone incapable of restraining her.

"I obviously restrained her before. I can easily manage it again, Hirako-san."

Shinji couldn't help but roll his eyes at the shinigami's formal speech. He had known the man for many years and done several things of various natures that were no doubt illegal in several countries with him. One would think they were on a first name basis by now.

But Byakuya never called anyone other than his own sister by their first name. Shinji had stopped requesting for him to address him causally long ago.

Shinji double checked to see if he had forgotten anything. Finding nothing missing the blonde turned to face the only other thing in the room.

It was a bin. A large plastic bin with its lid duct-taped shut and a hole cut out of the top. From the hole issued a steadily breathing sound. Shinji approached it calmly, inspecting it without expecting anything out of place. He had given Byakuya very specific instructions via text and he did not doubt that the man had followed them to the letter.

He grabbed an edge of the bin and and gently lifted it, listening to the soft swish of water and the sudden silence then equally sudden panicked breathing emitting from the hole at the top of the bin. Shinji set the dropped the bin. The harsh breathing accelerated. He waited for a minute or two for it to calm down then repeated the action, tilting it over more before setting it down gently this time.

Shinji repeated this pattern for several minutes, shortening the times between the lifting and dropping until he was almost shaking the box continuously. He sometimes kicked the sides and beat on the top. He kept it up relentlessly, listening to the breathing becoming more erratic, muffled whimpers and screams escaping from the hole.

Shinji suddenly picked up the bin, dispute how lean he seemed and whirled it around in 360 circle before unceremoniously dropping it. The screams that the bin made turned into sobs as Shinji continued to assault the container with rough kicks and violent shakings.

Suddenly Shinji stopped.

The shinigami cooly stepped away from the bin to lean against the wall next to Byakuya.

The raven haired taicho watched as Shinji crossed his arms and waited. The blonde-haired man had been at it for almost an hour, but he didn't look fatigued from the physical activity in the least. He merely gazed at the bin with a calculating look, head slightly cocked to one side as if he was looking at a bland picture of a landscape rather than a duct-taped rubber-maid bin with a hole cut into the top.

Byakuya listened as muffled sobs diminished to hyperventilating breaths and then to tense, fearful silence.

The 6th squad taicho shifted his arm and cringed at the bolt of pain that raced up it from his hand. Certainly one could not rush torture, but the man could not help but hope that Shinji would not dally on this job in particular. He had been witness to several of Shinji's 'sessions' and a majority of them had dragged on for hours.

From these Byakuya knew his fellow captain to be two things.

Thorough.

And Merciless.

After a 15 minutes of that strained silence Shinji approached the box again. And covered the breathing hole with his palm. After 20 seconds the box began to emit the sound of water being churned and after 30 second it began to rock from a force within it. Shinji lifted his hand. The hole gasped in muffled fashion, hungrily sucking air. It was a few seconds before Shinji again recovered the hole. Soft thumps came from with in the bin as the shinigami torturer continued this game until the gasps turned to small rasping sobs and coughs as he prolonged the suffocation and shortened the breathing time.

Then he backed off again.

It was 10 minutes after the breathing had leveled out before Shinji started forward again, this time gesturing for Byakuya to follow him. The 5th division taicho whipped out a pen-knife and sawed at the duct tape before roughly ripping the bin's lid off, violently shaking the bin in the process.

In the bin there was a girl bound with cloth bandages, completely submerged in water. Her magenta hair flowed chaotically around her face as she thrashed in confusion but one could see the bandages covering her eyes and ears, blocking sight and sound. There was a mask fitted to her mouth and nose that had been connected to a pipe fixed to the opening in the lid so she could breath but still be surrounded by water, isolating her in a cocoon of dark silence.

She wore nothing but her underwear and a tattered and blood splattered bra. Her forearms arms and hands were bound to her thighs and her ankles bound to each other as well as her elbows.

Shinji plunged his knife hand into the water and began cutting at her bonds, not caring if his blade nicked at her skin. Leaving the cloth around her eyes and ears he tore the breathing pipe and mask off before hauling her out of the bin with one arm, sloshing water over the bin's edge. She began to trash weakly until Shinji put his knife to her throat, applying a meaningfully light pressure that was a muscle twitch from breaking the skin of her neck. She stopped thrashing immediately.

Shinji proceeded to the table where he dropped the girl, never removing his knife from her jugular and nodding for Byakuya to bind her wrists and ankles to the legs of the table, respectively. When his fellow shinigami was finished the took the knife away from the girl's neck.

The blonde stepped back from the table surveying it before removing his soaking shirt and drying his body with a towel from his box. He then knelt to switch on his 'toy'. He fiddled with knobs and buttons for a moment before he was satisfied and finally turned to face the shivering, dripping body on the table. The baton in his hand thrummed lowly with electricity and he smiled.

"Would you please remove the binding from her ears Bya-kun~?" Shinji smirked. "After all, she has to be able to hear the questions I have to…ask her."

"Do know what you have to ask Hirako-san?"

Shinji flapped his hand at the more somber man, "Course I do, she is the one the old man believes committed that mass family murder last night, is she not? And she is a member of that new killing group that has been pissing the shitgiggles out of every gang within 100 miles of Karakura, no? The one that doesn't give a fuck who they kill and cause general fuckin' havoc and must 'be eliminated at all costs'?" Shinji paused glancing over the pathetic form on the table. "Though ya wouldn't think so by looking' at 'er."

Byakuya also glanced at the human being, if you could call her that, on the table before glancing away.

"She was a formidable opponent," the dark-haired taicho conceded. "It was not unlike fighting a member of the Getsuga Tensho."

That stuck a cord with Shinji. This girl was on par with that famous assassin group? But she wasn't an assassin. According to reports the people in this mysterious new group, rumored to be called 'Xcution', killed for fun, and nothing else. Like animals. They didn't have some ultimate cause or doctrine. Just to kill, and kill as many as they could.

Of course, that was causing quite a stir in Karakura. At first no one knew who was causing these mysterious and graphic slaughters. It was not unlike the killings that had occurred some 5 or 6 years ago. People had thought it was either the shinigami, or, more likely, Aizen's espada. When it was established what it was neither of these groups, some pointed fingers at Getsuga Tensho. But the leader of that group firmly denied it, and reported that all of that group's members were restrained to the point that they could not lash out as such.

That was when new rumors of this illusive 'Xcution' filtered through the underworld of Karakura. It was even brought to the attention of the idiot police of that city. And neither of the gangs would have that. They didn't want their respective illegal businesses interrupted by the law. Thus operations had been put in to effect by both gangs to locate, interrogate, and eliminate each member of Xcution.

This girl had been one of the suspects and her identity had been confirmed last night when she had appeared in a Grand Fisher home and slaughtered a whole family in their sleep. Byakuya had been sent to detain her. This girl, Riruka Dokugamine, Had been their first breakthrough in the 8 months since the problem had been brought to light. She had been somewhat sloppy in her crime than previous murders done by that group. Given that there had been no activity in the last 4 or so months, Shinji assumed that she had been desperate, like an alcoholic too long away from the bottle.

The blonde continued to gaze at the girl on the table who was now thrashing again, pulling at her bond with surprising strength. But the ropes were thick and resistance was futile. Shinji took a step forward with his baton as Byakuya undid the binding around her ears.

Desperate people made mistakes. And when they did, deadly people like Byakuya and Shinji were let off their leashes. And they did not escape those taicho's clutches when they were caught.

At least not alive.

A/N: I get very discouraged when you guys don't review. (I can't tell if I'm doing this damn thing right or not!) Hah...Please review.