Welcome. Another grimmichi story, a long one with drama and little bit of angst. Also, there will be two main OCs, but I promise they'll be cool people, so please don't hate them!

Big thanks to my beta. Without her, this story wouldn't be as it is right now.

Disclaimer; I do not own Bleach or any of the characters. However, I do own and claim my OCs.

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Maid? Fuck no. Cashier at the supermarket? Still no, the pay is too low and the time does not suit me... Argh!

Ichigo threw the newspaper on his brand new IKEA table in agitation and buried his head into his both hands. Why was it so difficult to find a decent job? Even part-time would do!

Brown eyes glanced around his beloved apartment, his heart clenching at the thought of losing it just because he didn't have enough money to pay the rent. Ichigo dropped his head in defeat and groaned. Ever since he left his hometown, Japan, to come to America for one and only reason of becoming a doctor, he had faced a lot of hardships; first of all was the fucking pre-med. Seriously, if you asked him personally, the pre-medical course was the stupidest idea Americans ever had. Anyway, he made it successfully through the four years of sheer, useless torture and currently he was at his second year of Medical School.

How had those six years gone by, he didn't even notice.

What he did know though was the fact that he had no money to support himself anymore. His ape-shit idiot of a father decided that it was a good idea to completely cease all the weak financial support he was already providing.

"You have to grow up and find a well paying job, my son!", the man had yelled over the phone.

It was not that Ichigo didn't work the previous years. As a matter of fact he had once worked as a lifeguard in a camp for kids in the summer, as well as a personal trainer in the winter. His fondness for sports could not stay hidden, neither from his almost constant workout nor from his... body.

Ichigo was relatively tall – for a Japanese person at least – 6 feet sharp, and 160 pounds of sleek muscle. He was quite popular with the ladies both in Japan and America; his looks worked wonders indeed. Chocolate brown eyes made girls go crazy, a rare smile to die for and the cherry at the top of the cake? He had orange hair.

Yeah, orange.

The color attracted too much unwanted attention in his opinion, nosy people asking whether it was real or not. It was real. Just ask and you'll see the evidence.

Suddenly, an idea struck Ichigo's head light lightning. "I could become a stripper!", he said out loud but as soon as the words left his mouth he scowled and slouched back in his chair, defeated. What was he saying? Of course he couldn't become a stripper.

As absorbed as he was in his job-hunting, he didn't realize that valuable time was briskly passing until he looked at the clock on the wall. "Shit!", he cursed, jumping out of his chair as if electrocuted. He was going to be late for his anatomy class!

And he had the worst stuck up prick as a professor…

With his impressive stamina and speed, however, Ichigo managed to arrive in class just a second before the professor shut the door in his face. Unfortunately, he wasn't off the hook just yet; the strict anatomy professor, with the long black hair falling carelessly over his shoulders, gave him a look of disapproval before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Mr. Kurosaki," he said in his monotonous, even voice, his face expressionless, "You should provide yourself with a watch next time. The class starts at 11:59."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the man's anal behavior, Ichigo instead nodded. "My sincerest apologies, professor Kuchiki. I was looking for a job and I forgot about the time. It won't happen again."

Professor Kuchiki studied him in silence, his face never giving away any of his emotions until Ichigo started to feel a little jittery. It felt as if the brunet was dissecting him with his stony black gaze. He was ready to clear his throat nervously, but the black haired man spoke up.

"You may take a seat now."

Ichigo stumbled on a few bags on his way to his seat, glaring at the students who didn't have any sense of space and threw their shit all over the place. Once seated, he sighed, pulling out his notebook and a pen.

It wouldn't have been a couple of minutes before he heard a hushed, "Dude!"

This time, Ichigo rolled his eyes before turning his head at the red haired man next to him. "Not now Renji," he whispered.

Renji Abarai had to be one of the most annoying people in the university, in the entire world even. Surprisingly enough, he was Ichigo's best friend ever since the oranget came to America. Loud, foul mouthed, simple minded were the best things to describe Renji at first but Ichigo knew better; the man was actually very smart, too smart for his own good, loyal, understanding and followed his goals to the very end, something that never ceased to amaze Ichigo.

Right now though, all he wanted was the man to shut the fuck up. No luck though because Renji grinned teasingly at him and cocked his head to the side. "Lookin' for a job is yer new excuse for I didn't-spend-the-night-at-home-but-with-a-hot-red-blooded-male-whom-I-fucked-all-night?"

Seriously, if they weren't in a classroom, Renji would be a hundred shades bruised by now. Okay, it wasn't a secret that Ichigo was gay but he wasn't boasting about his sexuality all over the place, as Renji had the habit of doing.

"Renji, shut up, I'm trying to listen," he said calmly but his short temper was flaring already. Renji must have noticed if the widening of his grin was any indication.

"So," he drawled, "What's his name? Is he cute? Loud? Good at giving head?"

"Renji!" Ichigo said, a little too loudly.

"Is there any problem, Mr. Kurosaki?"

Ichigo jumped. Aw, crap. Gulping in fear, Ichigo ignored all the stares from his classmates and cleared his throat. The anatomy professor was in the process of murdering him with just his eyes and he was just about to piss his pants, it wasn't even funny. Fuck Kuchiki was so freaking scary some times!

"No sir," Ichigo muttered.

"Then I would kindly ask you not to interrupt my class any more. Unless you do not wish to be a part of it."

"N-No sir, I understand, I apologize," Ichigo stuttered. Professor Kuchiki turned his attention back at his book, giving Ichigo the opportunity to relax and then glare heatedly at Renji. The red haired man was clasping his hand over his mouth in attempt not to laugh hysterically, his face at the shade of his hair from the effort.

"I hate you," he hissed, only to make the redhead laugh harder.

Fortunately, the rest of the class wasn't as spectacular as the first few moments were. Ichigo was in the process of mercilessly kicking Renji's shin when his anatomy professor approached him quietly.

"Mr. Kurosaki," the even voice said, making chills run up and down Ichigo's spine.

Brrrrrr… Cold.

"Sir."

Kuchiki studied him in silence, his black eyes expressionless as always, but penetrating too. It was at the very least uncomfortable.

"You said previously that you are looking for a job, is that correct?", the raven haired male said, just as a thick silence had settled in the room.

"Yes sir, I do," Ichigo replied earnestly. He was beyond confused by the man's behavior but, on the other hand, he hadn't had something to hide. Looking for a job wasn't a shame.

More silence. It felt as if professor Kuchiki was making a desicion in his head, judging whether Ichigo was good or not to carry out some kind of utterly important and secret mission.

"I have a job for you," he said in the end, startling Ichigo. "Are you interested?"

Ichigo had to clear his throat and shake his head before he managed to bring out words from his mouth. Well, wasn't that unexpected… "I am sir."

"Well," Kuchiki sighed, "I have a dear friend and colleague who needs a child's keeper. Are you any good with kids, Mr. Kurosaki?"

Ichigo gaped but quickly gathered his wits to reply. "I have two younger sisters, sir, I believe myself to be good with kids."

"Brilliant," the brunet said, a rare spark of emotion in his voice, "I shall e-mail you my colleague's personal information later in the evening. I must leave now, gentlemen, I was called by the hospital."

"Okay," Ichigo said in a state of mild shock. Then suddenly it dawned to him that he had forgotten something. "Ah!", he exclaimed, "Thank you very much, professor Kuchiki."

Kuchiki looked over his shoulder at Ichigo, nodded and before he exited the room, he flashed something closely related to a smirk. Renji and Ichigo exchanged a terrified look before Renji spoke up.

"Dude!", the redhead gasped in shock, "Did he..? Did he just smile?"

"No... I don't think he is capable of smiling," Ichigo said with a confused frown, "His skin would break."

Renji shook his head, unconvinced. "I'm sure man; that had to be a smile," he insisted

"I don't know," Ichigo sighed, dropping the argument. He sat on the edge of Renji's desk, pondering a little more on the event that just occurred. It was really odd for Kuchiki to act like this. "But what is weirder is that he actually offered me a job…"

"It ain't weird at all," Renji said with a nonchalant shrug, "He likes ya, Ichigo."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and snorted. What the hell was the redhead talking about? "He hates me, Renji."

"Nu-uh," Renji disagreed, shaking his head, "He likes ya and he likes to challenge you. He knows yer smart and he's tryna pull this intelligence a' yers out."

"You know, when you say things like that, it feels like I'm talking to a different person," Ichigo teased as he reached down for his backpack.

Renji chuckled, rising up from his seat as well. "Why's everybody keep saying that?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you're all goofy most of the time and suddenly you come up with smart shit. It sounds like a frog speaking Japanese." Ichigo grinned at the fierce scowl that marred Renji's handsome features.

"Fuck you!", yelled the redhead, and Ichigo laughed heartily.

Ah, he loved his life.

XXXXX

"Mail! Mail! Mail! Mail! Mail!"

"Shut the fuck up!", Ichigo yelled at his laptop.

"Mail! Mail! Mail! Mail!", the machine kept prodding.

Growling in agitation, Ichigo put aside his biochemistry notes and made his way to his computer, cursing. He had forgotten that the motherfucking thing wouldn't shut up until he checked his mail.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself down, Ichigo clicked on the incoming message. Ah it's from Kuchiki. He glanced at the screen clock. Seven thirty. The man was true to his words when he said "later in the evening". He smirked, beyond amused. Guess that's Kuchiki-sensei for you.

Mr. Kurosaki, I deeply apologize for my belated electronic mail, it read. Ichigo couldn't help but roll his eyes and laugh at the man's punctuality.

"Jesus, Kuchiki loosen up, will you?", he said to no one in particular.

I talked to my friend and she said that she would be delighted to meet you in private, to discuss any further indications. My colleague's name is Emily Jaegerjaques.

I have attached her personal phone number and home number at the end of this message.

Regards,

Kuchiki Byakuya.

Ichigo's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Jaeg-what? How the hell was that pronounced? He tried and tried multiple times to say the strange surname but his tongue kept getting in the way. He even choked on his saliva once, then laughed his ass off for doing so, then coughed some more but in the end, after at least ten minutes of great effort and sacrifice, he was slightly improving to barely pronounce "Jaegerjaques".

Anyway, it didn't really matter at this point. The woman wanted a baby sitter, she would have a baby sitter, no hard feelings on that. But what kept nagging Ichigo's mind was what kind of a person was this woman? Was she like Kuchiki? He chuckled.

"Well, I certainly hope not."

Deeming the time neither too early or nor too late to make a private call, Ichigo searched around his apartment for his cell phone, which, by the way, had this habit of disappearing when he needed it the most. After a long while of searching, he found it under the kitchen table.

"How the fuck did it get there?", he grumbled and typed the woman's number on the screen. If he was good at one thing then that had to be memorizing numbers.

Pressing the green button and adjusting the phone to his ear, Ichigo waited. The sound of the impending call dragged out for quite a long time and the orange haired man would have ended the call had not a chirp, female voice answer the phone on the right time.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hello," Ichigo said lamely and a little uncomfortable, "Mrs. Emily Jaegerjaques?"

"That's me," the woman said joyfully, making Ichigo smile without realizing, "How may I assist you?"

"Well, my name is Ichigo Kurosaki. I assume that my professor, Kuchiki Byakuya has told you about me, no?"

There was a moment of silence, but then the woman exclaimed an "Aha!" in triumph. "Yes, yes, Byakuya told me that you are looking for a job, right Ichigo? Can I call you Ichigo?"

"Sure."

"Excellent! Ah, so, does it suit you to come by my house tomorrow and discuss the common courtesy stuff, you know something like an interview?"

"Tomorrow is alright, although it has to be after five, if that's fine. I have an important class before," Ichigo stated politely.

There was a small hum from the other end of the line. "Of course, it is more than fine! There is no way I could interfere with your schedule Ichigo, so let's make this at seven thirty, alright?"

He hadn't even met her once and Ichigo already liked this woman. She had something in the tone, something merry and it was definitely passing on to him. "Definitely, I'll be there," he agreed, smiling like an idiot to... No one.

The woman chuckled. "Alright then, it's a date!", she said, then quickly added, "You have to excuse me now, Ichigo, I have some business to attend to."

"Of course, madam," Ichigo said, feeling a little bad for spending so much of the woman's time.

"Mah, mah... Just call me Emily," she scolded.

"Can't do, just yet."

The woman hummed in approval, then sighed. "Fair enough. I'll see you tomorrow then. Seven thirty."

"Sharp," Ichigo added, "Thank you for the opportunity."

"Save the 'thank yous' for tomorrow, sweetie."

Ichigo laughed. Yup, he really liked this woman. "Will do, Mrs. Jaegerjaques, will do."

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This was kind short but I promise there is more to come.

Thank you for reading,

Queen.