Bleach 1. Chapter 1

**1/2/13- Back in June, I had a little breakdown and scrubbed the hell out of everything in this story for content reasons. I've gone back and edited everything again and now it's somewhere between the original version and the squeaky clean freak out version.**

I could have started much earlier in the timeline of the story but I didn't want to do a get-together plot with this one. I've also written it a little differently and it might be confusing at first. Just continue through the first few paragraphs and you'll see what I mean.

Searchlight- 1

He was almost out of time. Dante didn't regret what he'd done. There was no way he could. When he'd tossed his badge down on his captain's desk, he'd meant every damned word. Nothing mattered as much as the life of his partner, the only person who accepted him for who he was without reservation. Sweat dripped from his blue hair as he raced down an alley in the warehouse district and his fingers tightened on his gun. He'd finally end it this time. That bastard who'd taken Cole thought he could hide but he was so wrong. He was getting the smack down of his life as soon as Dante got his hands on him.

The Feds had tried to keep him out of the investigation, saying he was too close. Damned right he was close. Doctor Mercer kept wiggling out from under the system due to technicalities and botched investigations. Every dead body left in the man's wake was just a mocking reminder that the system didn't always work. He'd slipped through Dante's fingers twice now but he wasn't going to let him get away this time. Captain Wilson had warned him off and threatened to take his badge if he didn't listen and step back. He'd been stupid enough to listen at first but then the killer had grabbed Cole in order to draw him back in. To taunt him. Dante wasn't about to be teased. He'd thrown his career away in order to save his partner and he'd finish this one way or another.

Kicking open a rusted door, he braced his weapon and scanned the area. His breath caught as he saw Cole strapped to a table in the center of the dim space. When Cole saw Dante, his brown eyes widened and he shook his head, his muffled protests held in by the gag over his mouth. Of course he wouldn't want to be rescued. He knew what the captain threatened and if Dante was here, it could only mean that he'd given up everything. But the choice was clear. He couldn't have done anything else and they both knew it.

"So. You decided to show, Dante. Gutsy. Stupid, but gutsy. Too bad you showed up just in time to watch your partner die." Doctor Mercer stood next to the table, his glasses glinting in the dim light and his pink hair framing his smirking face. He held a vicious looking axe and let the blade hover dangerously close over Cole's throat.

"Freeze, you bastard!" Dante aimed for a headshot.

"I don't know. If you shoot me, I might twitch just a little." The blade nicked Cole's skin and drew a thin line of blood. The orange haired man gasped even as he tried to remain completely still.

Dante saw red and the gun trembled in his hand as Mercer started to laugh. He raised the axe suddenly in a swing that brought the weapon high over his head.

And the blade flew off the handle.

It bounced off the wall before rolling across the floor and tripping the sound guy who held the boom mike. He fell hard against a lighting tower that crashed into a tall, loaded tool cart that spilled its entire contents onto the floor. The ensuing destruction chased several waiting extras out of their chairs. It was a wild chain of events that wouldn't have happened that well even if it had been planned. Dante, Cole, and Mercer all blinked at each other in surprise. Until the moment was broken by an Dante's angry growl.

"Of for fuck's sake, Apporo," the blue haired man huffed.

"Cut!" The director stormed onto the set now that the scene was well and truly broken. "Grimmjow, we were still rolling." Urahara flapped his ever-present fan in agitation.

"Are you kidding? There's no way to salvage that shot now. No thanks to butterfingers over there."

"_I_ am _not_ the prop guy," Szayel replied with haughty disdain. "Take it up with him." He frowned at the bare head of the axe handle before tossing it casually aside and wandering off the set.

Grimmjow huffed out an irritated breath. They'd been working on this sequence all day. It would take time to reset and it might even mean going into overtime to get today's shots finished. This was the last day they on their filming permit for the warehouse so it had to be done today. Sometimes he really hated waiting even though that was half the job for an actor. Hurry up and wait.

Urahara waved a placating hand. "Take a break everybody. But don't go too far. We're going to pick up where we left off at seven. This is the last major scene before we get some reaction shots and wrap up this episode." Before he finished speaking, he was already in conference with the set guys who were surveying the damage.

Grimmjow watched them and wondered how long it would take to fix it. A muffled huff from the table drew his attention and glanced down to see Ichigo yanking at the restraints. He glared at everyone around him as they started to drift away.

Shrugging off his own irritation, Grimmjow chuckled and came a little closer. "I didn't quite catch that, Ichi."

Ichigo growled behind the gag and narrowed his eyes threateningly.

"Hey, it's not my fault the director likes authenticity and insists on tying you up for real." He held a hand up to his ear. "What's that? You said you'll be fine there? Good enough." Grimmjow actually walked away from the table, making the redhead call out to him with an angry, muffled whine. Everyone else was so busy, they seemed to have forgotten Ichigo entirely. But he kept walking anyway, his grin stretching wide. He'd just figured out how to kill some time until they were ready to shoot again. Once he was out of sight, he snagged a production assistant and sent him back to let the redhead loose. But he told him to wait at least five minutes.

Almost ten minutes later, Ichigo grumbled under his breath as he carefully picked his way around the scattered tools and tangles of wire as he left the set. Grimmjow had already sauntered off to his trailer, the bastard. The least he could have done was undo one hand so he could get himself loose. But no, he'd just left him and sent one of the gofers to do it. Ichigo rubbed his wrists irritably as he sidestepped a carpenter that had the look of a man on a mission. Everyone was scrambling to get things put back together so they could finish tonight. They were already behind schedule and this wasn't helping. But they'd manage, they always did.

As stars of the show Searchlight, Ichigo and Grimmjow were given quite a few privileges. His own trailer was just a few spots over from Grimmjow's and he was halfway across the lot to get there when he realized that he'd forgotten his phone. Dammit. It was sitting on his chair next to the craft service table and he let out a long sigh of pent up frustration. He'd spent nearly two hours tied to that table and he'd be strapped down on it again as soon as they started back up. Not wanting to waste any moments of the precious and possibly short dinner break, he decided to leave and continued toward his trailer. All he wanted was a snack a few minutes of quiet.

As he was passing Grimmjow's trailer, the door opened and a hand snaked out to grip his collar before yanking him inside. He barely had time to register what was happening before he was pressed back suddenly against the door that had slammed shut behind him. A pair of hungry lips crashed down on his own silencing any protest he might have made. Ichigo struggled briefly and let out a low moan before reaching up to tangle his fingers in the spiky blue locks of the man pinning him to the door.

Grimmjow mumbled against his mouth. "Careful. Mess up Shawlong's work and he'll shave your head." Their hairdresser could get a little pissed off if the actors went and ruined what he'd done. Not that he'd show it behind his calm exterior. That's what made him kind of scary.

"You started it, asshole," Ichigo muttered breathlessly. He was lifted nearly off his feet as Grimmjow maneuvered him around and walked a few feet to place him on the bed at the other end of the trailer. His pants were yanked down to the middle of this thighs and a hot mouth engulfed him. Ichigo groaned and threw his head back. "We. . .ah. . .gotta stop doing this. . .unh. . .at work."

Grimmjow chuckled low in his throat while his mouth still worked on him, making Ichigo moan again. He pulled off with a wet pop and a long lick before grinning up at the redhead. "I'm pretty sure it's not a secret anymore."

"Yeah, but it's not public. We agreed." Ichigo frowned and tried to get his thoughts together.

"Yeah, yeah. So all the guys who think we're cool can retain their masculinity and the girls still think we're available. Blah, blah, blah."

"It's not just that, moron. Well. . ." Ichigo grunted as Grimmjow started to suck on him again. "Shit." He started to pant as the other man quickened his pace. His thoughts drifted away again as the pleasured haze fogged his brain.

It hadn't always been like this. When the show had started almost two and a half years ago, they couldn't stand each other. Ichigo found it hard to be in the same room with Grimmjow and his ego. Grimmjow couldn't stand somebody so squeaky clean and noble. It worked out well enough for the show since their personal feelings bled into their acting. Dante and Cole were at odds in the story, both young cops who had been partnered together against their wishes. But as they spent more time together, they'd gotten closer. Mostly by accident.

It hadn't really gotten sexual until one extremely drunken night when they'd both decided to prove once and for all whose was bigger. There had been a strange kind of silence between them for a few minutes while they both stared at the open fly of each other's jeans. The moment was broken when they both muttered: "It really _is_ your natural color." But it wasn't a flurry of passion right then. No, that had been later. Both had avoided each other after that first incident, neither wanting to get involved with a coworker. It had taken a while for their feelings to settle down and finally grow into something else.

But here they were, going at it like hormonal teenagers who couldn't keep a leash on their libidos. Ichigo arched his back on the bed, his vision blurring as orgasm shook him to his toes. When he finally looked down again with half lidded eyes, his lover smirked as he stroked himself, his own climax not far off. Grimmjow's breathing got a little heavier just before he caught his release in his hand and sighed.

"You know, I could have helped with that," Ichigo breathed, his voice tired and slightly annoyed.

"Seeing you is all I need." Grimmjow turned the smirk into a suggestive leer. "Do you know how damn hot you looked all trussed up like that?"

"Pervert," Ichigo muttered but he was smiling when he said it. "We should probably put ourselves back together. You know Urahara won't really give us until seven."

"He'll wait. They can't do shit without us."

Ichigo laughed and took a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. "Maybe. But he'll be weird and bitchy all night if we do that."

"Yeah, I guess we should avoid that. On the bright side, I get to watch them tie you up again."

"I'm getting really tired being caught and kidnapped by the bad guys all the time." It came out as a pout and it made Ichigo frown.

"The ratings spike every time they write it in." Grimmjow smirked, seemingly loving how irritated the redhead was as he ran his fingers up and down his bare thigh.

"Yeah, well give it couple weeks and it will probably be your turn," Ichigo said in ill tempered retaliation. Which was true. It didn't happen every week but it was practically a running joke now.

Grimmjow laughed and helped him up before pulling his pants back into position himself. He gave Ichigo's crotch an affectionate pat after pulling the zipper up. "There. Don't want the goods hanging out for everyone to see."

The redhead snorted. "The world has already seen my ass. Remember season two, episode ten? There's not much mystery anymore."

Grimmjow pulled him close and held him tight. Their gazes were locked and his voice got lower as he stroked a hand up and down his back. "But the rest is mine. All of you is mine." He watched Ichigo's eyes get dark and heated even as his expression tried to remain irritated.

"Just remember it works the other way around too." The redhead reached around and squeezed Grimmjow's ass hard. "But if we don't go now, we won't."

"Hn." Grimmjow leaned in close and nuzzled the spot behind his ear. "Yeah."

"Hey." Ichigo squirmed in his arms. "I'm serious. Job? Show? Paycheck?" When that didn't get a response he huffed. "You won't get to beat up Szayel at the end of the scene until we actually finish it."

"Right, right." After one last nibble, Grimmjow finally pulled away. "Just had to have one last taste."

Ichigo shoved playfully at his chest. "Right."

"Let's eat first. There's no telling how long it'll be before we finally wrap for the night." Grimmjow let the leer show again. "And I'm still hungry."

"Good idea." But Ichigo's expression was wary as he headed to the fridge in the kitchen area. He never knew when he might be manhandled again. Not that he minded really.

They ate at the small table in Grimmjow's trailer and laughed about stupid things. They were so easy together. It just worked in a way neither of them could explain. Grimmjow held out a grape and Ichigo grinned before reaching out to take it with his tongue. He chewed thoughtfully before sliding across the bench to kiss him on the chin.

"You know, Ichi," Grimmjow said, his eyes half lidded as he held out another grape. "Most of our viewers are female."

"I'm aware of our demographics."

"Yeah, but did you know they get off on the idea of two guys together." He wiggled his brows suggestively.

"What?" Ichigo sat back and blinked at him. "No way."

"Why not? A lot of guys are turned on by girl on girl action. Why wouldn't it work the other way around?"

"Because it doesn't. I don't think." Ichigo shook his head and took a sip of his water. "Where the hell did you come up with that?"

"Have you read any of the fan fiction for our show?"

Ichigo raised a brow. "Have _you_?"

Grimmjow leered again and leaned in so their noses almost touched. "You remember Tuesday night?" He was rewarded with a hot blush from the redhead, a look that shot straight to his dick. "Got that from one of the stories I read." He closed the distance between them and nibbled at Ichigo's lips. "And there's a few more things I wanna try. Those girls are pretty damn inventive."

"Huh," was all Ichigo could say as he tilted his head to allow him better access to his throat. "Well maybe. . ." He paused as Grimmjow hit a particularly sensitive spot. ". . .maybe we could do a little more. . .ah. . .research." He laughed as the other man's fingers grazed his ribs in another sensitive, and rather ticklish, spot. If he let it go any further, they were going to be late. "Cut it out. We really do have to get back. If we don't finish that scene, we'll never get out of here tonight."

"In a minute." Grimmjow was too busy starting their earlier activity all over again to worry about going back to work. But a sudden banging on the door made Ichigo tense up suddenly in his arms. Cursing, Grimmjow whipped his head around. "What?!"

"Fifteen minute call." It must have been one of the more experienced production assistants because the brash tone didn't phase him at all. "Just be there," he muttered through the door as he walked away. Some of the newer ones lasted only a few days before running off in the wake of the infamous Jeagerjaques temper.

"Dammit," Grimmjow muttered.

Ichigo was already slipping out of his embrace to take care of the lunch leftovers. He was very cautious about his appearance and extremely protective of his persona. The redhead was serious about not being seen together in public in a romantic way. At first when they'd started hanging out together, it wasn't a big deal. They were just friends after all and that's all the public ever saw. And even when they'd started seeing each other on a more personal level, it had added spice to their relationship because it was something secret and seductive.

Grimmjow drummed his fingers on the tabletop irritably and frowned. Now it was starting to bug him that they had to slam on the breaks if there was even a chance that someone might see. He was tired of hiding, tired of being the dirty little secret that was kept hidden all the time. "See you on the set," he said as he got up and headed out the door. His words were tight which wouldn't normally be unusual but he rarely spoke that way to Ichigo when they were alone.

The redhead winced as the door to the trailer slammed shut. He was afraid that might happen. He knew he was being difficult but it was so hard. Growing up and figuring out who he was had been so difficult. It finally felt like he was getting his feet underneath him and he was afraid he'd had to fight to exist all over again. And he really aspired to be a great actor and he was worried of what coming out publicly would do to his career. Maybe a little too much but he couldn't quite shake the caution.

Grimmjow had been so patient with him which almost made it worse. But he seemed to be getting a little less patient lately and the other man got irritated relatively easily. There was a small but persistent fear that Grimmjow would give up and leave him. But Ichigo couldn't deal with it right this second. Shaking it off, he finished cleaning up and slipped out of the trailer so he could head back to the set.

Inside the sound stage, the builders were frantically putting the finishing touches on some of the set pieces but it looked like most everything was finished.

Ilfort, the head makeup artist, got Ichigo's attention and gestured frantically for him to sit in the chair. "Finally you show up. Get over here. I've got to check you over before we start rolling again."

Ichigo sighed and flopped down into the seat. "Fine."

"Jeez. You two didn't have a fight did you? Grimm was pissy when he showed up too. I thought you guys got over all that grandstanding crap in the first season."

Ichigo forced himself to relax and sighed again. "Let's just get this done. I want to finish up and go home."

"Okaaay," Ilfort said in an exaggerated tone. "Touchy. Why is it stars are always touchy?" he muttered to himself as he fixed Ichigo's makeup and sealed it with powder. After that was finished, the redhead went over to the table and sat patiently while the costume girl gagged him and the prop man laid him down and strapped him to the table again. He huffed quietly through his nose while he tried to focus and get in character. Cole was supposed to be worried because his partner Dante had just thrown his career away to rescue him. He wasn't supposed to be brooding over stumbling blocks in a romantic relationship that didn't exist on the screen.

"Trouble in paradise?" Szayel murmured as he came to stand by the table. He was taking lazy practice swings with the prop axe, presumably to make sure it didn't fall apart again. When Ichigo didn't answer, he tapped the rubber ax head on the table. "Your emotions read quite well my boy. It's what makes you a promising actor. Just remember to set personal issues aside and focus. We have a scene to do."

Ichigo glared up at him but couldn't really comment at the moment. The other man was right even though he didn't like it. Sighing and turning his head, he could see Grimmjow checking his mark. The other man's expression was hard to read as he took his prop gun from the assistant that handed it to him. A second runner came up to murmur in Grimmjow's ear and he nodded. Apparently, they were going to start a few lines in from Grimmjow's entrance where they left off. That was more than fine with Ichigo. He usually loved the job but right now, he didn't have a lot of interest. Visibly shaking himself, he got back into character and got ready for the director to say action.

"Alright people. The producers are getting edgy," Urahara said with a roll of his eyes. "We're on a deadline so we're going to continue on from here. We've still got the fight and some reaction shots before it's all in the can." Clapping his hands for silence, Urahara waved an imperious hand. "Action."

Mercer smiled evilly. "If you shoot me, I might twitch just a little." The blade nicked Cole's skin and drew a thin line of blood. The orange haired man gasped even as he tried to remain completely still.

Dante saw red and the gun trembled in his hand as Mercer started to laugh. The killer raised the axe suddenly in a swing that brought the weapon high over his head. A gunshot rang out and the axe handle cracked under the blow. Mercer blinked but he didn't have time to react as Dante leapt over the table, cutting one of the restraining straps along the way with a knife he'd pulled from his pocket. He slammed into Mercer and they both crashed to the floor. They'd finish this man to man.

Cole ripped his hand free and started working on the rest of the straps so he could help. Rolling off the table and ripping the gag free, he picked up Dante's discarded gun before taking aim. But the two men were grappling too closely for him to get a clear shot.

"Dante!"

Fear coursed through him. Mercer was responsible for more than twelve deaths officially but that was only counting the bodies they'd actually found. He was suspected of nearly three times that number. And right now, he was wrestling with his partner who'd risked everything to save him. There was another shot and Cole's blood went cold. The moment hung heavily in the air as he wondered which one of them had fired and which one had died.

"Dante?" he whispered before shaking himself and going over to see for himself.

Mercer was lying on top of Dante until his lifeless body was shoved aside. The blue haired man groaned and Cole was instantly at his side checking him for injuries. Anger overrode his worry. "You stupid idiot!" he hissed. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Besides saving your ass, you mean?" Dante grinned up at him with that infectious smile as he held his clutch piece against his chest. Cole shook his head even as his own lips twitched in weary amusement.

"You almost got yourself killed in the process." His exasperated tone softened. "And you threw it all away. You shouldn't have done that. Not for me."

Dante caught his eyes and held them, that intense blue nearly drowning him. "You're my partner." Like that was the only reason he needed. And maybe it was.

"The captain is going to rip you a new one," Cole said as he gripped Dante's hand and helped him to his feet. "I'm not sure you'll be able to charm you way out it this time."

"We'll see about that." They both headed toward the door as sirens blared and blue and red lights flashed in the windows.

"Aaaaand. Cut. Alright people. That was a passable finish. We'll set up for some close-ups and then I think we'll be done."

When Ichigo finally finished up his reaction shots for the day, he saw that Grimmjow was already gone. Trying not to look too disappointed, he changed out of his costume and grabbed his keys. He wasn't going to go crawling after him asking for forgiveness. That would just embarrass both of them. Sighing quietly, he went out to his car and drove home to his apartment. Traffic was light and not much of a challenge as he worked his way through the city streets. They had a reading for the next episode in the morning so he should just go to bed early. There was nothing else he wanted to do tonight. Unlocking his door and shuffling tiredly into his apartment, he shut and locked it behind him.

"Took you long enough," came a rough, amused voice from the living room. "What did you do, take the long way home?"

Ichigo's head snapped up and he peered around the entrance hall doorframe to see Grimmjow slouched on his sofa. The other man had his hands clasped over his middle and his feet were bare. He seemed completely at home which wasn't surprising since he spent so much time there. It was rare for them to spend the night in separate places anymore. Of course, it was easy since they lived in the same building.

"Sorry. I didn't expect you to be here." Ichigo took off his jacket and tossed it over a nearby chair. "I thought you were pissed."

Grimmjow shrugged and shifted on the couch. "I was." But he didn't elaborate. When Ichigo just stood there watching him, he held out a hand. "Come here."

Ichigo frowned but went over to reach out and wasn't surprised to be tugged down into the other man's lap. Settling more comfortably, he turned his face into Grimmjow's neck. The scent of him calmed his frazzled nerves and made him realize how unsettled he'd gotten earlier.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Hn." Grimmjow held him close and kissed his hair. "No, you're smart."

That made Ichigo pull back and look at him with a raised brow.

"What? You are." Grimmjow brushed a stray lock of orange hair away from Ichigo's forehead. "I got thinking."

Ichigo smirked at him. "Did it hurt?" It earned him a chuckle from the other man who settled back further into the couch.

"Smartass. I just meant that you're right about the relationship thing. I'm not afraid of anyone knowing about us. But I don't want to end up on the cover of every tabloid each week with a ridiculous update on being together, breaking up, wedding plans, another breakup. None of which would actually be true. All that obnoxious bullshit drives me crazy."

Resting his head on Grimmjow's shoulder, Ichigo let out a long sigh and tried to relax. "I hadn't thought of that." But he was now and he didn't like it. Apparently, it showed.

"Do you want to call it off just to be safe?" Grimmjow asked him, his tone extremely dry.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around his neck and tightened his grip. The question hadn't been a serious one but he felt it required a serious answer. "No."

"Good thing because that isn't happening. We'll just be careful. It's been eighteen months now. If it hasn't officially come out yet, we'll be okay."

That's right, they'd worked together for nearly a year before they'd hooked up the fist time. Ichigo snuggled closer and sighed again but it was from contentment this time. "Okay."

Grimmjow shifted and pulled a box out of his pocket. "Speaking of eighteen months together," he said, his voice low. And if Ichigo didn't know better, he'd think he sounded a little nervous.

"You got me a gift? Like an anniversary gift?" He felt mildly abashed because he hadn't even considered it and hadn't done anything. It wouldn't be the first time. Grimmjow had gotten him something when they hit six months and then when they'd been together a year.

"Sort of. I guess." Grimmjow, who was usually extremely forward and overly confident about everything, seemed extremely uncomfortable right now. It was endearing and just a little bit cute. "I almost couldn't wait and was going to give it to you earlier." When they were interrupted. So it wasn't really Ichigo's attitude that had made him grumpy.

Ichigo pushed aside a small surge of guilt and took the box gently from his fingers. It was about four inches across and when he opened it and saw what it held, he made a soft sound. "I can't believe you kept this."

It was a coaster from the bar where they'd first gone out together. It wasn't really a date. Not officially anyway. But it had been the start of their personal relationship. It wasn't just the coaster that made it really special, it was the small blue stain at the corner that told him it was the same one from that night. Ichigo had ordered Grimmjow a blue martini just to see the other man's reaction. Never one to back down from a challenge, he'd downed the drink quickly enough for a single drip to dribble down the stem of the glass and onto the coaster.

At that point in their relationship, they had already zipped down and compared equipment and taken the time to get over the aftermath. The night out had been a peace offering between the two of them when the stress of not talking off the set had started to take a toll on their acting. It had been a surprise on both sides when they'd actually gotten along pretty well that night.

Holding the box tightly, Ichigo shifted in Grimmjow's lap and caught him in a slow, thorough kiss. The other man's hands slid down his back and pulled him closer. The redhead nipped and licked for a few moments before pulling back to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure," Grimmjow murmured. Well, it would be since they both knew where things would go from here. Ichigo set the box with the coaster carefully on the coffee table before returning the embrace.

. . . . . . .

A/N: As always, reviews are appreciated and encouraged. And I don't mind constructive criticism since I cherish thoughtful feedback. This won't be quite as long or epic as some of my other stories but I had fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it.

(I know the scenes from the television show aren't a realistic portrayal of how filming is done. I know it's a lot of tedious hurry up and wait and repetition to get through filming and post production. I just wanted to portray scenes from the show as if the audience was watching it on screen. I hope it's not too confusing.)


	2. Chapter 2

I'll be the first to admit that I'm pretty sure this isn't how television production works and I'm using a lot of artistic license here. And I'm making a lot of it up. Also, forgive me for throwing a bunch of new names at you all at once. I tried to introduce them without doing an info dump but that's really hard to do. I had to make a cheat sheet for myself when I was writing to keep things straight.

Searchlight Cast

Ichigo: Cole Latimer

Grimmjow: Dante Dietrich

Chojiro Sasakibe: Henry Wilson

Shuuhei: Martin Dale

Iba: Jack Curtis

Kiyone: Mary Sweets

Searchlight- 2

The next morning, Ichigo showed up to the table reading first. Grimmjow had purposefully hung back that morning and would arrive later. It was kind of silly really, to plan it so carefully while trying to make sure it didn't look planned. But they both agreed to keep their relationship under wraps. At least for now. They'd figure things out as they went along and that would have to be good enough. Ichigo slouched in his seat and sipped at his flavored coffee. Grimmjow always made fun of him for ruining a perfectly good brew by putting "sugary flavored crap" in it. The thought made Ichigo smile as he was handed his copy of the script.

The rest of the regular cast was seated around the table munching on muffins from the spread by window and sipping their own morning drinks. Szayel had been among them for a while since Doctor Mercer had been a recurring character for several episodes. But they'd wrapped up that storyline last night and he'd moved on to another part.

Chojiro Sasakibe played Cole and Dante's captain, Henry Wilson. His pale hair and neatly trimmed mustache gave him an air of authority but the character tended to trust his detectives' instincts. Shuuhei Hisagi and Tetsu Iba played another pair of detectives who made regular appearances. Shuuhei's Martin Dade was a friend while Iba's Jake Curtis was the skeptic who was always working against them. Kiyone Kotetsu played the plucky female reporter, Mary Sweets, who followed the police beat and spent the rest of her time romancing Cole. That last part was a recent development that was making some of the female fans trash her character online. But she seemed amused by the whole thing and apparently enjoyed the publicity.

There were also three new faces at the table today. This week's guest star was playing a high power lawyer and the girl next to him was playing his daughter. A second man on his other side was playing the family bodyguard. Ichigo had met them when they auditioned a little while ago, but he couldn't remember their names at the moment. He smiled and nodded and they waved cheerfully in return.

All heads turned when Grimmjow came through the door. Ichigo had to admit, the man had a presence. It didn't quite fill the room but there was no way you could miss him. His unruly, upswept blue hair looked so utterly casual and unkempt but the redhead knew that he spent a lot of time in front of the mirror perfecting the effect. Grimmjow flopped down across the table from Ichigo and sipped his own travel cup of coffee. The redhead watched him, all the while trying not to be too obvious about it. But he couldn't help poking a little as he let his lips curl in a small smirk.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Jaegerjaques."

Grimmjow sneered and slouched in his chair as he was handed his own script by one of the production assistants. "You'll notice that nobody started without me."

Ichigo snorted and sipped his coffee as he started flipping pages and scanning the new dialogue he had to learn. They always sat down together to read a script through on the first day for continuity's sake before they all split up and started working on blocking and lines. Usually they got the scripts a few days in advance so they could get started learning dialog. But Urahara was being extra secretive lately this was the first time he'd read this one. Ichigo frowned as he scanned a few phrases on the first page. "Ghosts? Seriously?"

When Searchlight had started, it had been a relatively straight cop show that focused on finding missing people. Gradually, the storylines had drifted into other areas and different kinds of crimes. But lately they'd been dipping a lot deeper into the preternatural end of the pool. That wasn't a problem really but sometimes the stories weren't very believable.

"Hn. The writers must be stretching," Grimmjow muttered. "Somebody needs to let them out their cage more often." He continued flipping through pages until he suddenly slammed the book down and leaned in for a closer look. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cole _dies_?"

Ichigo nearly choked on his coffee. "What?!" He sat up and scrambled frantically through the pages to find what Grimmjow was looking at. And sure enough, Cole was supposed to take a bullet for Dante at the end of the episode right before the credits rolled.

"Alright ladies and gentleman." Urahara clomped in on his wooden clogs and flapped his fan before anybody else could comment. He seemed excited and full of anticipation which was never a good thing. "I see you've started reading this week's script."

"Yeah, and I think it's a load of bullshit," Grimmjow spat.

"Why Mr. Jeagerjaques, you seem almost more upset than Kurosaki. It's _his_ character that meets a tragic end after all."

"You think I want to waste time breaking in another costar? Do you have any idea how long it took me to train _him_?" He jerked his head at Ichigo without bothering to look in his direction.

"Hey, speak for yourself, Jackass!" Ichigo didn't bother lowering his voice. "You're not the one who might have to hit the audition circuit next week." Ichigo's stomach was in knots as he read the scene over again to make sure he wasn't missing anything. He hadn't heard any rumors about it at all which was unusual since this place could be a ridiculous gossip mill sometimes. Maybe the scene was a dream sequence or a premonition or something. It had to be _something_.

Their ratings were too good for the show to be canceled and if he left, those would go down. His ego wasn't nearly as large as Grimmjow's but he was well aware of his own value as an actor. And for that matter, he had a contract with the studio. But he knew there were shady ways to work around that and he tried not to speculate about what they might be. That would just drive him crazy. Ichigo was already worried enough as it is.

"Calm down everyone." Urahara had that secretive smile he always wore when he knew something nobody else did. "The publicity this particular story arc is going to generate will be more than worth the effort."

"Effort?" Ichigo blinked at him with mild betrayal swirling in his gut. He knew the director wasn't solely responsible for this but it was pretty obvious that he'd known. "You're killing my character."

"Am I?" Urahara smiled again. There were speculative murmurs around the table but it seemed like the information really was a surprise to everyone there. Of course, the rumors would certainly start flying now. The director tapped his fan on the table. "Now. We're here for the read-through so let's get started. There's a lot of work to be done this week. We're most of the way through season three but we've already planned out the storyline for the finale which will be a two hour special. I'm happy to announce that we've been picked up for a full fifteen episodes for season four that are already underway in pre-production. We've got plans."

That was news too. And while it was great that the show was continuing, Ichigo was a little bitter since there was the possibility that he might not be there to see it. It took a few more minutes for everyone to calm down and finally settle before they could actually get started. Ichigo could feel Grimmjow's eyes on him but he refused to meet his gaze as he stared sullenly at his script.

The read-through itself was mostly uneventful and the structure of the show followed the usual formula. It started with a rash of high profile hauntings that Cole and Dante started to investigate. Jack played the skeptic who kept shooting holes in their theories as usual. His partner Martin tried to keep the piece while their captain did the political tap dance for the commissioner and the mayor who kept making demands because of the nature of the victims. Mary got in everyone's way while building a bestselling story and following Cole around with stars in her eyes. But when the story come to a head near the end, it turned into something unexpected. The twist in the plot was a pleasant surprise but it still ended with Cole dying in Dante's arms.

Ichigo read the last lines without much emotion. It felt like someone really was dying. He'd been playing Cole for almost three years now and he'd become a person to him in some ways. He could see that Grimmjow was equally, if not more bothered by the whole deal. Frowning, the blue haired man turned his glare on Urahara.

"You're going to start riots with this."

"Won't it be wonderful?" Urahara beamed at all of them.

Shuuhei spoke up from where he sat next to Ichigo. "He's right though. You run the risk of alienating the viewers and making them so angry that they won't even bother to tune in for next season."

"We'll see," Urahara replied without apparent concern. "Now. Let's get started with the blocking. And I believe Ulquiorra needs a few fittings for costumes." With that, he left with a flourish. Everybody else got up and left the room at a more leisurely pace. On the way out, Grimmjow caught Ichigo's elbow and held him back while the rest trailed away.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Ichigo shrugged and wouldn't meet his eyes. "I'm fine. It'll be fine. They're not really going to kill him. They wouldn't dare. It's just some weird publicity stunt to grab more viewers and be more compelling and. . .I don't know." It all came out in a rush and Ichigo realized that he was a lot more freaked out than he thought.

"Hey," Grimmjow murmured as he brushed a finger gently down his cheek. Ichigo turned his face away but took his hand and squeezed it before letting go. Grimmjow caught the redhead's eyes and held them. "They can't fire you. I'll walk first."

Ichigo stared back for a few moments before nodding and heading quietly down the hall. After taking a quick breath, his back straightened as he walked like he was shaking off the shock and preparing himself for a fight. He glanced back over his shoulder. "If it _is_ my last episode, it'll be a fucking brilliant one. Best damned performance of my life."

Grimmjow grinned at him. "That's more like it."

. . . . . . .

Later that afternoon when they broke for lunch, Grimmjow headed off to Ichigo's trailer. The redhead had left the set a little earlier but he wouldn't have left the lot while they were still working. Sure enough, Ichigo was sprawled on the bed in the darkened space with his eyes closed. He didn't move or say anything when Grimmjow came in but he did sigh heavily.

"You're not pouting, are you?" Grimmjow asked as he closed the door behind him.

There was an indelicate snort from the darkness. "No." But it sounded like a rather petulant denial. Ichigo's eyes were shining in the dim light from the shaded window when he opened them and glared. "If you're here to fool around, I'm not really in the mood."

"Well if you're going to be like that, then neither am I." Grimmjow held up the paper bag he was carrying. "And I guess you won't be wanting this either."

Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows and scented the air before letting his breath out in a long, appreciative exhalation. "You are _so_ evil." Licking his lips, he eyed the bag before staring openly at Grimmjow, his expression almost pleading. "What do I have to do for it?"

Grimmjow grinned widely and let the infinite lecherous suggestions show on his face. Which made the redhead narrow his eyes.

"Now, now. Don't get ahead of yourself. Not here. Tonight. My place."

Ichigo only hesitated for a moment. "Deal."

Grimmjow's grin widened as he set the bag on the table and opened it before rummaging around for plates and napkins. When Ichigo came over to join him, he handed him a sandwich from the specialty shop that was right around the corner from the studio.

"Who did you have to kill to get this?" Ichigo savored the aroma of the grilled chicken, vegetables, and cheeze. The lines at the shop were always long despite lack of advertising. They didn't do deliveries and nobody on the set ever had time to wait. The last time they'd sent one of the production assistants, it had taken him almost two hours to get back and the stage manager had a fit.

"I know the owner and he did me a favor." Grimmjow watched Ichigo bite into the sandwich with a look of rapture on his face and it made him smile. "I was just going to give it to you. You know, to cheer you up a little after this morning. But since you so graciously offered yourself, I accept. Wear the purple one tonight. The one with the little silver charm."

Ichigo paused mid-bite and blinked as he processed the information. After he'd recovered and swallowed, he glared. "Evil," he muttered before shaking his head. "I never wear it because the metal bites into my hip." The tiny purple velvet thong had a small silver six dangling from the left strap. It had been the gift Grimmjow gave him for their six month anniversary.

"Don't worry. You won't be wearing it long." Grimmjow chuckled as he pulled out his own sandwich. "You're kind of a cheap sell."

"Only because you let me believe you actually wanted something."

"Like you wouldn't have given in anyway." Grimmjow tilted his head and batted his eyes. "All I have to do is give you _the look_."

"No. All you have to do is be the magnificently manipulative bastard that you are," Ichigo said with a smirk.

"Why thank you." Taking no offense, Grimmjow took a bite of his sandwich.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Ichigo started toying with his napkin as he stared at the tabletop. "Would you really quit for me?"

"Without a second thought." There was no hesitation in Grimmjow's voice when he said it and his expression was serious.

Huffing irritably, Ichigo looked at him with mild exasperation. "What about your career? You've got a contract and there will be issues if you break it."

"Money crap." Grimmjow waved it away. "I can afford to take a hit. And do you honestly think I can't get another job? I've already got three movies offers for this summer."

Ichigo's look was dry as he started wrapping up the rest of the sandwich that he suddenly had no hunger for. "I've seen some of your past offers. Your agent is a moron."

"Sometimes." Grimmjow smirked. "But you loved the one I did last year. Don't lie."

"Oh, please. _Dark Gods _doesn't even come close to getting a B rating."

"Really. You're starting to wear out my copy of the DVD. There's a blip where you keep watching the same part over and over." When he saw Ichigo's cheeks start to flush, Grimmjow knew he was right. It was mostly a guess but he _had_ caught him watching it once. There was one scene where he'd been bound and gagged on screen just before being tied half naked to an alter in preparation for a pagan sacrifice. He'd had rope burns for a week after doing that part but it was worth it to catch Ichigo drooling over the image. "And to think you were the one complaining about all the bondage on the show yesterday."

"Only when they do it to me." Recovering from the mild embarrassment, Ichigo's lips twitched in a coy smile as he got up and put the rest of his lunch in the fridge. "I don't mind so much when they tie _you_ up."

"If you're really good, I might just let you do it sometime."

Ichigo glanced back over his shoulder with a look that wavered between surprise and speculation. "Then I'll have to be on my best behavior." They grinned at each other as he came back and Grimmjow rose to pull him into his arms.

"I love you. Ridiculously."

Ichigo hugged him back and turned his face up for a kiss. It was full of passion and promise and they lingered in the embrace. When they pulled apart a little, the redhead had to swallow before he could say anything. When he did, his voice was a little thick. "I love you too." They stood together quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying being close before they had to go back to work.

. . . . . . .

Dante was perched on the edge of Cole's desk in the squad room while his partner stared out the nearby window. It was long after hours and there was hardly anyone around so it was just the two of them. The orange haired man didn't turn when he finally spoke.

"Don't think you've gotten out of talking about this. It doesn't matter that the Captain gave you your badge back."

Dante turned the symbol of his rank end over end in his fingers as a quiet smile pulled at his lips. "I knew he would."

"Did you _reall_y?" Cole turned and there was temper on his face now. "You risked everything."

Dante just returned his gaze calmly. "If I had to do it all over again, I'd make the same choice even if I was absolutely sure I'd never be a cop again."

"Why?"

It was the blue haired man's turn to get angry now. "You're my partner. How many times to I have to say it for you to believe it?"

Cole swallowed and went over to pour himself a cup of lukewarm coffee that he didn't really want. "Look, I know that. It's just-"

"No. Obviously you don't." Dante clutched the badge until his knuckles turned white. "I'd never hesitate to go through a door with you. I trust you to watch my back, knowing that you'll always be there. There's nobody I'm closer to. Don't you dare stand there and throw that in my face."

Cole's breath got a little short and he set down his cup without touching the contents. He had to swallow before he could speak. "I'm sorry."

There were several moments of near painful tension that were finally broken when Dante shrugged. He put his badge back in his pocket and glanced around as if he were a little uncomfortable with what he'd just said out loud. Turning his now tired gaze back on his partner, he sighed. "Don't worry about it. Go home and get some sleep. We'll get a fresh start on this in the morning."

Nodding, Cole grabbed his coat and headed out. But not before pausing to place a hand on Dante's shoulder and squeeze it firmly. When it really mattered, they rarely needed words to get the point across. Dante stayed where he was and continued to stare out the window long after he'd been left alone.

"And cut," Urahara said quietly.

The set remained silent for a few more seconds until someone started clapping. Before long, there was applause from everyone who'd been watching. Grimmjow rolled his eyes but he was inwardly pleased. That _had_ been pretty sweet. Ichigo was beaming from where he was standing at the edge of the set even though he was trying to hide it. He'd really meant it when he was going to give the performance of his life. They better the hell not be killing his character for real or they'd seriously have to shop for two new stars instead of just one.

That was the last shot of the day and everybody was cleaning up the set for the night. Ichigo slipped off the soundstage before Grimmjow could catch him which made him frown. He'd wanted to take him out to dinner before the festivities later. But short of tracking him down in a way that bordered on stalking, all he could do was head home and hope he showed up. The redhead had been excited earlier but it was possible he might have started to have some doubts. It was hard to tell.

Before he could follow, Urahara cornered him and started discussing techniques for future episodes. Grimmjow wasn't really listening and wanted nothing more than to leave. After assuring the other man that he'd work on whatever they'd been talking about, he fled from the set. The last thing he wanted was to think about the show right now. After changing back into his street clothes, he grabbed his keys and headed for his car.

"Hey, Grimm."

Grimmjow turned to see Shuuhei trying to get his attention. Sighing impatiently, he tried not to look completely pissed. Just because he'd spent a lot of time cultivating his badass persona by tormenting the interns didn't mean he wanted to alienate the rest of the cast. And Hisagi wasn't a total idiot like some of the other morons he had to deal with.

"Yeah?"

Shuuhei jogged over as he pulled on his jacket. "You really think they'll do it? You know, kill Cole for real?"

"I think they want to shake things up and make a big deal out of something that's actually nothing." Grimmjow shrugged and tried not to look worried. "It'll be fine."

"I hope so. I like working with Ichigo and I'd hate to see him replaced. The show just wouldn't be the same." Shuuhei shoved his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to tell him that but it looks like he skipped out early. Guess I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Yeah, you do that. Later." Escaping while he could, Grimmjow headed out and made his way home.

As he rode up on the elevator in his building, he thought about where his life had been heading. He'd grown up wealthy with a father that thought acting was beneath him. After telling him to go to hell, Grimmjow had gone and done what he wanted anyway. He didn't care that his dad had threatened to cut him off. He'd managed on his own. His apartment was nice but not really flashy and he kept it that way on purpose. Most of his furniture was used and lived in looking and the place was usually a mess. The most obvious clutter was the numerous piles of fan letters that overflowed every surface.

But as he came in, he saw that things had been cleaned up since he'd been there last. The dishes had been done and there wasn't a single piece of dirty laundry to be seen. Not to mention the fact that all of his mail was now neatly organized in the bins Ichigo had gotten him for Christmas last year. To corral his overflowing literary ego, he'd said. But there was no way Ichigo could have done all this tonight. He wasn't running _that_ late. And it had to have been the redhead. There was no one else that would have dared enter his place and he didn't have a maid. Grimmjow's thoughts brightened when he realized that Ichigo really had decided to come tonight and he grinned.

Taking off his coat, he sauntered down the hall to the bedroom. The flickering glow of candles lit the space and his usual bedspread had been switched out for dark blue satin sheets that looked wet to the touch. Ichigo was splayed out across them in a seductive pose wearing nothing but the much anticipated undergarment they'd discussed earlier that day. The small six charm winked against his hip in the candlelight and his tanned skin glowed as if lit from the inside. God, he was beautiful.

And he was sleeping.

A soft snore escaped the slumbering redhead and his fingers were lax where one of his hands lay on the above his head. But Grimmjow had studied enough acting to know when he was being played. "I'm not running _that_ late."

Ichigo cracked an eye open and let his lips curl in a small smile. "But I almost had you, didn't I?"

"Maybe. But do you really think I'm above ravishing you just because you're asleep? You know me better than that." Stalking toward the bed, Grimmjow let his desire show in his eyes. Ichigo shifted on the mattress and arched his back a little, showing off that delectable body. His own arousal was obvious beneath the scrap of fabric that covered him.

"I do know you. Every inch of you." Ichigo's voice was low and husky as he reached out a hand to draw Grimmjow down onto the bed with him. The kiss was hot and wet with a mix of teeth and tongue as they did their best to devour each other. Grimmjow caught his breath and rested their foreheads together for a moment and gazing into his eyes. He'd always been drawn in by the golden flecks in his lover's honey brown eyes. He continued kissing down Ichigo's chin and throat. On his way down the redhead's chest, he flicked his tongue over a pert nipple and which earned him a mewling sigh from Ichigo. Chuckling, he nipped at his abdomen with his teeth, alternating with soft licks and kisses.

He often took the lead in bed but Ichigo didn't seem to mind. Instead, he encouraged it as he was now by laying back and practically purring his approval. Grimmjow pressed his lip to the hollow of his hip before taking the strap of the thong in his teeth. He could taste the tang of the charm on his tongue as he pulled it slowly down. Ichigo's erection sprang free in invitation but he continued dragging the purple velvet down his thighs, over his knees and finally off.

Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows to look down at him with needy chocolate eyes. They got incredibly dark as Grimmjow crawled his way back up the bed. He was still fully clothed but that didn't stop him from enjoying himself. Kissing the underside of Ichigo's erection in a fluttering trail, he moved up and swallowed him. The redhead gasped in a deep breath and fisted his hands in the sheets. He fought not to squirm under the tender ministrations while he bit his lip and moaned. His expression turned into a scowl when Grimmjow pulled off him.

The blue haired man smiled and kneaded Ichigo's thighs before taking the time to undress. It never got boring for him to tease, to arouse, and generally torment his partner. Not that he ever got any complaints in that particular area. But as much as he wanted to take his time, he was more than ready. After some quick prep work, they were both ready. When Grimmjow entered him and they became connected as one, Ichigo wrapped his legs around his waist and held him close. They rocked together on the mattress as Grimmjow buried his face in the crook of Ichigo's neck and inhaled. The scent of him always drove him right over the edge even more than the tight grip the redhead had on his hair.

With one last deep thrust, he came and gripped Ichigo's length in his hands so he could drive him up over with him. It was a quick ride but they'd do it again soon enough. As their heartbeats finally began to slow, Grimmjow lay down and shifted so he could cradle Ichigo at his side. They basked in the afterglow for a while but Grimmjow couldn't quite contain himself for long.

"Alright, how did you manage to clean up my stuff? There's no way you had enough time tonight."

Ichigo pressed closer and laughed. "The other day. I had a late call remember? You haven't been back here since then."

That's right, they'd spent a lot of time at Ichigo's place this week. He had enough clothes and things up there that hadn't bothered to come back downstairs. "I could get used to this."

"Don't count on it," Ichigo said with a snort. "It happened by accident really. I'm used to your mess by now so most of the time I don't even notice."

"Hey. Your place isn't exactly the object of obsessive cleanliness either."

Ichigo laughed again, hardly offended by something that was true. "One of your stacks of letters fell over and it was just the last straw. Why don't you let your assistant take care of your fan mail?" The redhead raised a hand and smacked his own forehead in mock epiphany. "Oh, that's right. You don't have an assistant because you can't keep one for more than two weeks."

"Hey, if they can't handle a little honesty, they're in the wrong business."

"Which is ironic considering what we do for a living." Ichigo sighed and his voice started to get a little sleepy sounding as he settled more comfortably against Grimmjow. "You should be nicer to people."

Grimmjow pulled the blankets up and sighed. "You're the only one that gets that privilege," he murmured as he felt himself slipping down into sleep himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Searchlight- 3

The rooftop was sweltering in the heat of midday and the air shimmered ominously. The killer, who'd been haunted mercilessly by the ghosts of the very people he murdered, swung his arms wildly trying to fend the vengeful spirits off. Dante and Cole had chased him to the rooftop where they confronted the secretive lawyer. He'd been the one pressuring the mayor to close the case because he was the one responsible. But his money and influence couldn't help him now as the departed went about getting their revenge.

He raised his gun in a desperate attempt to shoot his way out. Realizing where the wild shots would hit, Cole's eyes widened as he threw himself in front of Dante at the last minute. The shots hit him square in the chest and he fell back into his partner. There was a strangled scream as the murderer was driven back off the edge of the building to fall to his own death. But Dante didn't care. Backup wasn't there yet and he yanked out a cell phone to call for an ambulance on his cell phone.

"Officer down, goddamn you!" he shouted into the phone before dropping it and shouting at Cole. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" He slid down to the rooftop with his wounded partner in his arms. There was so much blood and he couldn't hold it back no matter how he tried to press his hand to the wound. "Dammit!"

"You're my partner," Cole whispered with a wet cough. "What other reason do I need?" His lips were red with blood and he fought for a few more labored breaths. They both knew the ambulance wouldn't get there in time.

"Do you remember the first day I was assigned to this squad? The day we met?"

"Don't talk." Dante pressed kept up the pressure on the wounds even though blood continued to seep through his fingers.

"Couldn't. . .couldn't stand you." Cole swallowed and let out a bubbling sigh. "So different now. Wouldn't h-have it any other way." He gripped his partner's hand tight.

Dante's eyes glimmered with emotion and the tears he refused to shed. "I don't want to work with anyone else. You c-can't. . ." He trailed off with a shuddering breath when Cole's eyes slipped closed and the redhead's hand went slack in his own.

The camera continued to pull back until the two of them seemed small on the screen, like their existence was insignificant to the greater world around them.

"Cut."

Ichigo opened his eyes and looked up at Grimmjow who was sniffing rather convincingly while trying his best to hide it. "Where did you go just now?" Ichigo asked him quietly.

Grimmjow shrugged dismissively and pulled himself out from under his weight so he could stand. "It's called acting, remember?" he said stiffly as he walked off.

Ichigo sighed as he watched him head across the building's roof toward the door to the stairwell. Grimmjow never liked to talk after emotional scenes but it was obvious they bothered him. Halfway to the door, Ilfort intercepted him and slapped his hand when he moved to rub at his eyes and risked getting makeup in them. The blue haired man stiffened for a moment but his shoulders shifted in what might have been a sigh. Ilfort dabbed at his face with a tissue where the makeup had smeared during the scene. That had been a rough one.

Some actors could bring up that kind of emotion on cue and make it totally believable without really feeling it on the inside. But Ichigo knew Grimmjow drew on personal experiences. He wasn't exactly a method actor but he always managed to drag up what he needed from somewhere inside. It was hard to tell what horrible memory he focused on. The two of them were closer than Ichigo had ever been with another person but there were still things he didn't know about the other man.

Sighing, Ichigo plucked at his sticky shirt where the fake blood was starting to dry. He hadn't done much work with squibs before and he could feel the spots where they'd blown outward through the fabric of his shirt. At least they didn't use actual explosives for that kind of thing anymore. He really wished they hadn't waited to do this scene until the very end. Now his last memory of the episode would be the look on Grimmjow's face. That wasn't something he wanted burned into his memory even if it had been acting on the other man's part.

"Fantastic job, Kurosaki-kun." Urahara clomped over flapping his fan.

"It honestly doesn't take much effort to die," he said with a huff as he stood up.

"Don't be so melodramatic, my boy. Death scenes can be so easily overdone but you did wonderfully." Flicking the fan closed, he grinned. "Now, I'd like to take you out to lunch so we can discuss a few things before finishing up this afternoon."

"Like my replacement, you mean?" There was a little bitterness in Ichigo's voice that he couldn't quite hide. It still stung even though he hadn't technically been handed a pink slip yet. It had been nearly a week since he'd first read the script for the episode they just finished and it still hadn't quite sunk in yet.

"I thought you were friendly with Abarai," Urahara said conversationally.

"I am but that's not the point." He and Renji had attended a lot of the same acing classes in school and they remained friends even after their careers had taken them in different directions. It stung a little that he was going to be the one taking his place on the show. But Renji had called the night before to tell him about the offer himself which was something. Ichigo knew the other man hadn't been poaching his job and that made him feel marginally better. And he definitely needed to feel better.

Grimmjow's mood had gotten unpredictable lately and not in a fun, spontaneous kind of way. It wasn't that their relationship had gotten strained but Ichigo could tell that he'd been bothered recently by something. It might be because of what was happening on the show and he wasn't sure if he knew about Renji yet or not. If he didn't, things were only going to get worse and soon. The next read-through was the day after tomorrow and that's when Renji would be sprung on all of them. It should have been surprising that they hadn't auditioned prospective actors with the established cast but with Urahara, it was business as usual. He tended to spring surprises on purpose just to get a reaction.

"Don't look so stressed, Ichigo. You're too young to have those kind of burdens. Meet me down at my car in a half hour." Flipping the fan open again, Urahara headed off toward the video setup so he could watch the playbacks.

Ichigo dragged himself up and headed downstairs to the costume trailer so he could change into his street clothes and clean off what was left of the stage blood. As he was finishing up, the door opened and Renji poked his head inside. He was friends with both Ichigo and Shuuhei so visiting the set wasn't unusual for him.

"Hey, nice job up there."

Ichigo shrugged to cover his mild surprise at seeing him there today. But since Grimmjow hadn't tried to break his face, it was apparent that the news hadn't broken to the rest of the cast and crew that he was going to be on the show yet.

"Look, I'm sorry." Taking a breath, Renji came all the way into the small space and closed the door behind him. "I meant to ask last night when I called. Is this going to be an issue between us?"

Buttoning up his shirt the rest of the way, Ichigo shook his head. "No. And I don't want it to be." Smiling a little, he looked back at his longtime friend. "I guess I should be happy that the part is going to somebody I like."

"It won't be for long." Renji's eyes glinted as his voice lowered. "But you didn't hear that from me."

Ichigo really wanted to believe him but Urahara was notoriously tight lipped with secrets about upcoming shows. There was no way Renji or anybody else could be certain.

"But we're still friends, aren't we?" Renji asked hopefully.

Ichigo gave him an exasperated look. "Well, yeah. Even if it does turn out to be permanent, that won't change things between us. It's a job, Renji."

"Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do. Really."

"Honestly," Ichigo said as he held up a hand. "It's okay. And Urahara is going to take me out to eat, probably as a peace offering. Rain check?"

"Sure." Renji poked idly at a leather shoulder holster that was hanging on a hook by the door. "So what's Jeagerjaques really like? I've heard he's a total asshole."

Now these were certainly murky waters. Ichigo and Renji were friends but he hadn't told anyone about his relationship with his costar and he wasn't about to now. Shrugging, he called up some of the acting skills he prided himself on and hoped Renji didn't notice. "He can be difficult, mostly on purpose. Just don't let him walk all over you. He has no respect for pushovers."

"What about you? I remember the stories you used to tell me and there were all kinds of rumors about you guys fighting on the set when the show started. Does he still treat you like crap."

Ichigo smirked. "No, because I'm not a pushover. But the fights weren't a rumor. It got pretty ugly for a while."

"And?" Renji prompted.

"I fight back." Ichigo's smug smile made them both laugh. "But seriously, it'll be fine. We get along now because we both realized it's counterproductive to bitch at each other all the time." Grabbing his coat, he headed for the door. "Sorry, but I've gotta go. Shuuhei was over by the carpenter's van earlier. He's been kind of down lately and I'm sure he'd be glad to see you."

"That's not a bad idea." Renji clapped him on the shoulder before preceding him out the door. "See you later."

Ichigo watched him leave and couldn't help considering the possibilities. Grimmjow would probably try to push Renji around but maybe he could convince him to take it easy on him. The thought made him smile a little as he headed to Urahara's car. Grimmjow wasn't the only one who could bat his eyes to get what he wanted.

The restaurant turned out to be a few steps up from takeout but nothing hugely fancy. That suited Ichigo fine. He wasn't one of those fussy stars who demanded flashy things just for the sake of expense. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to play the game when he wanted. Sipping his water, he drummed his fingers on the tabletop and flicked his eyes around the room, studiously not looking at Urahara where he sat across from him.

"So. If you're trying to apologize, I can tell you this isn't nearly expensive enough."

"Now, now Ichigo. You and I both know that wouldn't work anyway. Not on you." Urahara's hat mostly shaded his eyes but not the knowing gleam in them. "You can't play me. I watched your daddy change your diapers." Urahara was an old friend of his father's and had known him most of his life. He'd actually been Ichigo's inspiration to get in the business in the first place.

"Alright then, Old Man." Ichigo smirked at him. "What would you like to discuss?"

Urahara sat drinking his coffee calmly, seemingly unaffected by the weak jab from the younger man. He glanced at his watched and smiled. "I just wanted you to meet someone."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. This sounded like a setup of some kind but he wasn't quite sure what it was about. His stomach dropped a little when an idea occurred to him. "You're not trying to fix me up or anything, are you?" It wouldn't be the first time.

"Not exactly." Urahara's smile never wavered and Ichigo tried to stare him down. He knew he'd never be able to intimidate the eccentric director but it didn't stop him from trying. Until someone coming in the door caught his attention.

The man would have stood out anywhere but he practically shone in the dull surroundings of the restaurant. The crisp white leather jacket and shirt were immaculate and matched the tone of his pale skin and hair perfectly. And his eyes. Holy shit, those had to be contact lenses. Nobody really had eyes like that. Brilliant gold was surrounded by shadowed pools of darkness and for a moment, Ichigo thought he'd be pulled right in. Blinking, he glanced at Urahara who had a big shit-eating grin on his face. Like he knew exactly what he was looking at even though he was facing away from the door. Sure enough, the albino came to stop beside their table.

"Am I late?" he asked with a voice that was a little high for a male but surprisingly smooth.

"Not at all. Ichigo Kurosaki, I'd like you to meet Ogichi Shirosaki."

Ogichi thrust out his hand, his lips curling in a way that made the gesture seem like a challenge. Ichigo took it and shook, trying not to wince as the other man squeezed incredibly hard.

"Pleased ta meetcha," the pale man said as he twirled one of the chairs around to straddle the seat and prop his arms on the back. "I'm a big fan."

"Uh, thanks." Ichigo really wasn't quite sure what to make of him and couldn't help staring. Realizing he was being pretty rude, he sat back the picked up his water again. "How do you know Urahara, Ogichi?"

"Call me Shirosaki, everybody does." He shrugged and flagged down a waitress. "I was mindin' my own one day when he came up on the street and offered me a job. Straight shit." Flipping through the menu, he immediately slapped it closed again. "Have you guys ordered yet?"

"Not yet. Get anything you'd like," Urahara said with an indulgent smile.

"Sweet." When the girl came over, the albino gave her a slick smile that managed to be strangely charming. Her cheeks pinked delicately so it appeared that she agreed. "Turkey on rye with tomato, lettuce and bacon. No mayo."

"Would you like fries with that?" she asked coyly.

"You got any of those seasoned curly ones?" When she nodded, he ratcheted the smile up another notch. "I'll have some of those and a Coke."

"Any dessert?"

"We'll have to see."

Ichigo just sat back and watched the man flirt shamelessly. Was he always like this or was is all just part of the show? Urahara seemed unfazed by the behavior and ordered his own a steak and pepper sandwich with onion rings. Ichigo decided on a club with regular fries and an orange soda. What job had the director offered him?

"So," Shirosaki said once they had their drinks. He crumpled up his straw wrapper and took a sip before he continued. "Is it hard? The acting thing, I mean?"

Acting thing? Did he actually have a part on the show? Ichigo thought Renji was the one taking his place. Who the hell was this guy going to be? One of the villains? That would make sense with his look. It was certainly exotic enough. Turning to Urahara, Ichigo raised a brow and tried not to look overly surprised as Shirosaki continued asking questions.

Lunch went relatively smoothly after that. Ichigo spent most of his time observing Shirosaki who chatted with Urahara and Ichigo about the show. Apparently, he'd been watching since the beginning and had never missed an episode. And he was curious about the whole production process. How could he possibly have gotten a part on the show when it was obvious he'd never worked on a television show before? In fact, it sounded like he'd never acted before either. Right now he was continuing to flirt with the waitress who had come back to the table for the fourth time. Ichigo was pretty sure he slipped her his number. After Shirosaki finished his meal, he wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin down on his plate.

"Well, it's been fun but I gotta go. Haven't quit my day job yet." Standing, clapped Ichigo on the shoulder and grinned at Urahara. "You're right. I like him." With that, he sauntered towards the door, winking at the waitress as he went.

When they were alone again, Ichigo gave his companion a very flat look. "Do you ever get tired of screwing with me?" It wasn't the first time the other man had thrown a challenge his way to see what he'd do.

"No, not really." Urahara twirled his glass on the table and it left wet rings of condensation in its wake. He sighed a little and it almost sounded wistful before he focused on Ichigo again. "No matter how things go, I just want you to remember one thing. I wrote the show for _you_."

Ichigo blinked and opened his mouth before shutting it again when he couldn't think of what to say. He hadn't known that. After a moment, he tried again. "Thanks. I love the job." He got paid to do what he'd always wanted, he'd met someone he was head over heels for and above all, it was just fun. What wasn't to love?

"So rest assured, you're still going to be part of it. But for right now, you get a two week break. We've got a few scenes for you in the two episodes after you come back and then we start filming the two hour special."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Oh, I've been tinkering with the idea since the beginning but it wasn't until recently that it all came together." He had that secretive look again and Ichigo wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"What the hell am I supposed to do for two whole weeks?"

"Anything you want. When's the last time you've actually given yourself a break? When you're not working on the show, you're doing movies and guest spots."

That was true. Ichigo liked to be busy. Some thought that he wasn't picky enough about his parts but he just liked the work. And as much as he made fun of Grimmjow for movies he'd done, he had his own parts that had been less than blockbuster material. There was a lot of stuff that he didn't enjoy watching but he loved being in it. A break might be nice but he wouldn't really be able to do exactly what he wanted. Grimmjow still had a full schedule and the time off wouldn't be the same if he couldn't spend it with him.

"Well, let's get back to the set. We have some work to do before you can enjoy your break." Urahara flagged down the girl and paid the check before ushering Ichigo toward the door. Almost as if he were in a rush. And he might be. There was still lots for him to do before the day was over.

. . . . . . .

After filming was over for the day and production shut down, all Ichigo wanted to do was go home. He was depressed from the scene this morning and Grimmjow was still being moody. And his lunch meeting left him mostly unsettled. He had no idea who Shirosaki was or what was going to happen to the show. It left him feeling tired and just a little bit grumpy. So when Shuuhei called him over as he was about to leave, he heaved a sigh.

"Hey, Ichigo. A bunch of us are going out to dinner and we want you to come."

Ichigo really didn't want to be with company right now but Shuuhei seemed so earnest he had trouble refusing. "Sure."

The other man chuckled and put an arm across his shoulders as he guided him to the parking lot. "Good thing. If you said no, Jaegerjaques was supposed to kidnap you and bring you to the restaurant anyway."

That brought a small smile to Ichigo's face as he let himself be led to a car. They went to a place nearby that was always full of actors and techies from the numerous studios in the area. Somebody had managed to reserve the private back room and a bunch of the cast and crew of Searchlight was already there around the big table. There was a cheer that went up when Ichigo came into the room and he smiled again. Somebody handed him a beer and an envelope. As he was ushered to the head of the table, he opened the envelop and laughed out loud. The card inside had been signed by all the cast and crew. It read:

_It sucks that you're dead but we love you anyway._

Ikkaku, the stunt coordinator for the show, raised his glass and toasted him. "We were gonna do a banner but we didn't want to tip off the media. It's a shitstorm Urahara's started but it'll work out. Can't wait to throw you off a building again."

There was a round of laughs and more cheers. Ikkaku hadn't actually thrown him off the building, it had been his stunt double. But it was still funny and it felt good to have so much support from everybody. Ichigo sat down and sipped his beer and it was only then that he realized Grimmjow wasn't there which was odd if he was involved with all this strangely comforting weirdness. It actually hurt a little and he tried not to feel to bad about it.

Then the door swung open and the man in question sauntered in like he was the center of attention. "How's the dead guy?" he asked with a strange humor.

"Nice of you to show Jaegerjaques," Iba snorted.

Grimmjow's face twisted in to sneer. "Fucking flat tire. Everybody was gone by the time I was calm enough to catch a ride."

And there was a shimmer of temper rippling under the surface there. Ichigo could see it even though Grimmjow was hiding it pretty well. He wondered what had happened to upset him so much because he didn't think it was the tire. But Ichigo tried not to think about it too hard as he smiled up at him and patted the empty chair on his right.

"Don't worry about the tire tonight. I'll give you a ride home and we'll get it fixed tomorrow."

Grimmjow gave him a weird look but after a moment, he just shook his head and took the beer that the waitress handed him. Everybody settled down to order and they started telling stories and sharing memories from the show.

"You remember when the paint on the office set wasn't quite dry and Iba walked around all morning with paint smears on the ass of his pants? Thought Ulquiorra was going to have a meltdown." Ikkaku snorted out a laugh.

Iba leaned back in his chair. "Almost as good as when we were doing wire work and the harness got stuck. Grimmjow was up in the air for nearly an hour."

"Che. That's not half as funny as when Ichigo got locked in the trunk of that car," Grimmjow snorted.

It went on like that for a while. They kept trying to one-up each other with stories of bloopers and disasters from filming. It shifted slowly to favorite and hated storylines and then onto past experiences from other jobs.

When dinner was over, and everybody was patting Ichigo on the back and offering words of encouragement, Grimmjow snagged his sleeve and drew him out of the room. "Let's head to a club. You and me. I wanna move."

They didn't have work for a couple of days so staying out late wouldn't be a problem. Well, Grimmjow didn't have to work. Ichigo had way more time on his hands. "Sure," he said even though he had his doubts. Sometimes they went out together but rarely just the two of them. And they tried to avoid situations where it would be easy to forget the ruse and start touching which would lead to other things that would start a media frenzy.

They ended up at a trendy club downtown that was dark and dimly lit with colored lights. Grimmjow had been drinking and Ichigo had done his best to keep up. But he felt that at least one of them should keep a clear head and he'd switched to soft drinks pretty quickly. They spent a lot of time on the dance floor where they lost themselves in the music. Sometimes it was nice to forget about everything and just move. One of their first real dates had taken them clubbing and the night they'd spent after was one to remember. Tonight, they drank and they danced and they flirted with some of the club girls when they noticed a well known photographer in the crowd. They'd been playing the game a while and they were pretty good at it.

As the crowds finally started filtering out, Ichigo was getting tired and decided he was done for the night. Making his way over to the bar, he pried an energetic blonde off his lover before he was tempted to slap both of them. That would just end the day on a perfect note. Guiding an extremely inebriated Grimmjow out the door, he flagged a cab outside and gave them their apartment building's address. He was still too drunk to drive himself and he'd have to come get his car in the morning. It was a little risky escorting Grimmjow home, but he supposed it wouldn't be the first time he'd dragged him in after a night at a bar. Ichigo supported most of the other man's weight as he steered him to the elevator and up into the apartment. When he flopped him down onto the bed, Grimmjow's grip tightened and he was dragged down on top of him. Ichigo was tipsy enough that he wasn't exactly feeling on top of his game right now and mood wasn't striking him.

"Grimm," he said when the other man's hands slid down the back of his jeans. It was pleasurable enough but he knew it wouldn't be as good because his partner was sloppy drunk at the moment. "Grimmjow," he said again with a little more force when strong fingers started to knead his ass.

"Need you."

"Right now you need sleep more than you need me." And it was a little worrisome. Grimmjow didn't often let himself drink this much and it wasn't a good sign.

"Hmm." Grimmjow sounded like he wanted to protest but he was quickly falling asleep now that they were in bed. Or maybe he was just passing out. Either way, he needed the rest. Ichigo kissed his temple tenderly and cupped his cheek. Tonight had been so weird and he wasn't exactly sure what was going on. He'd have to talk to him about it tomorrow. But right now he felt sleep pulling him down and he struggled to take off Grimmjow's shoes and pull off his jeans. After undressing himself, he pulled the covers back and slipped into bed beside him so he could snuggle close. Maybe they could spend the next couple of days together just the two of them. It had been a while since they'd been able to do that.


	4. Chapter 4

Searchlight- 4

"What the hell is this shit?"

Ichigo cracked his eyes open only to shut them again immediately when the morning glare was too much for his sleep filled eyes. The mattress dipped suddenly as Grimmjow dropped down beside him and the redhead could hear the wrinkle of paper.

"Have you seen this yet?" Grimmjow demanded.

"If that's today's paper, that would be a no," Ichigo muttered. "God, what time is it?"

"You're not that hung over," Grimmjow said irritably as he flapped the paper again. Ichigo was forced wake up completely or risk being annoyed to death. No, he wasn't hung over. Much. He'd managed to stop himself from overdoing it last night at the club. Going out after an emotional scene to shake off the weight of it wasn't that unusual but the drinking had been kind of heavy. Grabbing the paper in self defense, Ichigo sat up and focused on the headlines.

"Twins Separated at Birth?" he read out loud. On the cover of one of the newsstand gossip rags were pictures of him and Shirosaki side by side. "What the hell do they mean by that?"

"Is that the guy you met at lunch yesterday?" Grimmjow asked.

"Yeah, why?" Ichigo's brain wasn't quite awake yet and he had no idea what he was going on about.

"You got a brother I don't know about?"

"No." Ichigo glared at Grimmjow and wished desperately for a cup of coffee. "What the hell are you talking about? And where did you get this? Have you been out already?" As Ichigo flapped the paper back at Grimmjow, his nose twitched and he could smell cologne. That _was_ unusual. Grimmjow didn't put it on very often and usually only when he was trying to hide something. Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo fixed his companion with a hard look. "You've been smoking."

"I quit, remember?"

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said in a low tone. It wasn't exactly a lie but they both knew it but it was dangerously close.

"What's your problem?" Grimmjow's voice rose a little and now it was almost painfully obvious that he really was hiding something. Ichigo just scowled at him until he confessed. And after a few fidgety moments, it finally came out.

"I changed my damned shirt! How can you tell?"

Ichigo reached out and yanked on the fabric in question to drag Grimmjow closer. It wasn't the shirt. He could smell traces of cigarette smoke in his hair. That had been one of the sticky things early on in their relationship. When they met, Grimmjow smoked pretty heavily and Ichigo couldn't stand it.

"It was only one. I swear." Grimmjow huffed an irritated breath. "Forget that. What about this?" He gestured at the paper Ichigo still held in his other hand.

"What about it?" Ichigo looked again and realized for the first time that he and Shirosaki _did_ look somewhat similar. But that wasn't reason enough for Grimmjow to be freaking out or for him to start smoking again.

"Did you actually read the rest of the article?"

"No. I haven't even had any coffee yet this morning, Grimm. Usually when you get me up this early, it's for wakeup sex." He flopped the paper down onto the mattress. "Which normally would have been nice."

"Not when you're being this bitchy." Grimmjow lurched up from the bed and headed toward the door.

"Wait just a damned minute! You're the one who's being a total ass." Now that Ichigo was fully awake, and pissed to boot, he was able to take a good look at Grimmjow. What he saw had his anger shifting toward worry. His hair was down and his eyes looked so tired. "What happened? And don't tell me it was the article. Don't hand me that crap."

Grimmjow had stopped in the doorway and pressed his forehead against the doorjamb. When he took a deep breath, it sounded ragged. "I should know better than to try and hide shit from you. I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Grimmjow." Ichigo said, trying his best to sound gentle this time. But he was afraid that if he went over to touch him, it would push the other man away. Grimmjow could be kind of touchy when he was emotional. It didn't happen very often.

"Its my dad."

Concern and wariness started to go to war in Ichigo's head as he watched his lover come back over and sit carefully at the foot of the bed facing away from him. But it was encouraging that he'd come closer. He knew Grimmjow had never been particularly close with his family, especially his father. But that didn't mean he didn't care. Moving carefully, he pressed himself up against Grimmjow's back and wrapped his arms around his waist. He buried his nose in the hair at the nape of his neck and tried to find his scent where it was buried under cigarettes and cologne. "What is it?" Ichigo asked quietly.

"He got in a car accident the day before yesterday." That was certainly news but Ichigo didn't ask why Grimmjow hadn't said anything. Or why he hadn't gone to see him. He could be pretty tight lipped about his past. "I got a call early this morning. There were some complications with one of the surgeries. They. . .they're not sure he's going to make it now. Stupid fucker," he muttered but there wasn't much heat in his words.

Grimmjow leaned forward and gripped his own hair tightly as if he were trying to rip it out by the roots. God, no wonder he'd been sneaking cigarettes. It also explained the rather wild excess from the night before. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to bury pain with something else. Now Ichigo felt like a total ass for coming down on him.

"I don't know what to do." Grimmjow's voice was a hoarse rasp. "I can't stand the fucker but. . ."

Treading carefully, Ichigo continued to hold him. "How is your mom?"

There was an aggravated huff. "She's worried. She. . .she apologized to me. Asked me to come. After what I said to her why would she even speak to me?"

"Because she's your mom," Ichigo said softly. "She loves you." He felt his throat tighten as he thought about the loss of his own mother. It didn't matter that it had happened years ago. Things like that never went away.

"Shit. She said it might be my last chance to make peace with him. I've hated him for so long. Shouldn't I still hate him?"

"There is no _should_. But she might be right." Ichigo's own emotions were roiling. Loosening his grip a little, he slid around to the side so he could look Grimmjow in the eye. "Grimm." He reached up the cup his stubbled face in his hands he gazed at him steadily. "I know what it's like have things you can never say because the person you want to say them to is gone. Don't waste this chance to talk to him. Even if you're still mad at him, it's important."

"I know." Grimmjow gripped Ichigo's wrists. "He just pisses me off so much. And then I feel bad for being mad. I swear that asshole is doing this just to spite me."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Pulling gently away, Grimmjow stood and started to prowl the room. "I just-" Pausing by the window, he sighed. "Fuck him, I guess."

Ichigo hated seeing him like this. He rarely looked so lost. Huffing a breath, he gripped the sheets in his hands. "Grimm. Go see him."

The other man stopped and turned to look at him and frowned. "Don't tell me what to do," he said.

"Well, it sounds like you can't make up your own damned mind."

Grimmjow's look shifted to mild disbelief and then anger. "You're getting real pushy all of a sudden."

"Well you're being all wishy washy so one of us has to remember that he still has a dick." Ichigo felt a small pang and hoped the sudden shift in tactics wouldn't blow up in his face. Sometimes Grimmjow didn't respond well to gentleness. Babying his grief might push him down into a nasty well of depression.

"Excuse me?" Grimmjow stared openly, his voice a low growl.

"You're obviously looking for someone to tell you what to do, so do it." Ichigo suddenly found himself pinned down to the mattress and he fought not to squirm away.

Grimmjow loomed over him holding his wrists in a tight grip. "You've certainly got a mouth on you."

Ichigo's heart started tripping in his chest. There had always been an aura of danger surrounding the other man and he knew that he'd been in some serious fights when he was a teenager. But so far, that anger had never been directed at him before. He wasn't sure what was going to happen but he couldn't back down now. Swallowing his mild fear, he raised his head to bring their faces closer together.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Grimmjow continued to glare at him for a few moments, but then the fire in his vivid blue eyes simmered down and faded. His grip loosened and the tension seemed to flow right out of him and he went limp on top of Ichigo. Ichigo wrapped his arms and legs around him and kissed his cheek. Grimmjow's voice was muffled where his face was pressed into the redhead's shoulder.

"You're kind of a manipulative prick sometimes."

Ichigo snorted out a soft laugh. "It worked didn't it?" For a minute there, he wasn't entirely sure it would but it seemed to have paid off. Smoothing Grimmjow's hair, he sighed. "And I did learn from the best."

Grimmjow raised himself up and looked at him with tired eyes while he tried to hide it all with a smile. "I've still got some things to teach you." His expression shifted to something else and he came in to capture his lips. But it wasn't a violent motion. There was a careful tenderness to the action that had Ichigo holding him gently in return. He ran his hands up and down his back and from the growing heat between them, it seemed that he'd get that wakeup sex after all.

They undressed each other with gentle hands, searched out sensitive flesh with soft lips and sensual touches. Ichigo loved it when it was like this. That slow climb together that made the ride that much sweeter. Grimmjow raised Ichigo's knee and prepared him before pushing his way in. His lips traced trails across Ichigo's cheek as he moved rhythmically and steadily. His thrusts were slow and steady, raising their arousal to a soft peak. Ichigo wrapped himself around him again and gripped him hard as he came.

Grimmjow's breath shuddered out as he joined him in climax. After a few moments of quiet, his satisfied yet wistful sigh huffed out softly as they lay tangled together on the bed. "I think I needed that."

Ichigo patted him fondly on the ass. "Always happy to help."

"No," Grimmjow laughed. "That's not what I meant. The push. I needed _that_." He sighed again and it sounded a lot heavier. "I. . .I'm going to see him."

"Do you want to me to come with you?"

"No." The answer was immediate. "I've gotta go by myself." Grimmjow leaned in for a kiss and then rested their foreheads together. "But thanks though. I've got a couple of days off coming so I'm covered. But you can help me pack. Just do me one favor."

"What?"

"Go home and be with your family for a couple days. It's been a while."

Ichigo felt his throat tighten a little as he nodded. He honestly couldn't remember when he'd last seen his dad and sisters. He'd been busy and it was certainly past time for a visit. "Yeah. Okay."

. . . . . . .

Grimmjow walked carefully down the hospital halls, trying not to look into the rooms he passed. He hated hospitals. They were full of the old and the sick and they always made him nervous. The critical care unit was no better. There was despair here that soaked the air so much that it was almost tangible. He paused when he saw his mother coming out of one of the rooms. When she saw him, she stood still and regarded him carefully. Her spine was straight and her face was relatively expressionless but he knew she was surprised. Like she hadn't really expected him to show. Hell, he was surprised too.

But then her face softened and she held her arms open and suddenly the past didn't matter anymore. Grimmjow went to her and folded her into his arms. How could he not? Ichigo was right. She was his mom. Adelaide Jaegerjaques was a petite, almost delicate woman and he practically loomed over her. But she was also one of the strongest people that he knew. He should have contacted her long before now when there wasn't tragedy to deal with.

"Grimm," she said when she pulled back and reached up to cup his cheek. "I'm so glad you came." There was no accusation in her voice or her face. Like Grimmjow hadn't said horrible things to both her and his father the night he walked out on both of them. He pushed it all aside and tried to focus on why he was here so the past wouldn't bury him.

"How is he?" Grimmjow's voice was rougher than he liked but he tried to ignore it.

"A little better but. . ." His mother may have been small but she was made of steel. Most of the time. Right now she was fighting for composure and it made him sad to see it. Her lips thinned as she tried to fight the urge to bite her lip. Grimmjow had only seen her do that twice. Once when he'd broken his arm as a child and then when they'd argued right before he left his parent's house. His mother sighed softly. "He's stable but in a coma. It's been almost forty-eight hours."

And the longer he stayed unconscious, the worse his chances were of waking up. Even Grimmjow knew that much. He stared at the door to the hospital room. Grimmjow didn't want to go in but he couldn't stay out here forever.

"Can I have a couple minutes with him by himself?" He took a closer look at his mother and saw the shadows under her eyes. "You should eat something," he said. It was a partial attempt to distract himself. But it was also what Ichigo always said when he saw that something was bothering him. Grimmjow wasn't always the best when it came to caring for others but he'd picked up a few things. He almost thought that she wouldn't go but after a few careful moments, his mother nodded and patted his cheek before heading down the hall.

It was harder to open the door to his father's room than he thought it would be. But he did it. He wasn't one to back down from something just because it was difficult and now was no different. Inside, his father lay in the bed looking so frail. He always remembered him as such a looming presence. There was none of that now and Grimmjow swallowed uncomfortably. Pacing to the window, he tried to focus on anything except the bed. But Grimmjow realized after a moment that he was procrastinating again.

Shaking it off, he pulled up a chair next to the bed and regarded his dad critically for the first time. He was breathing on his own but he was still hooked up to an IV and an oxygen tank. His skin was pale and almost translucent looking. The man Grimmjow had known as an uptight, looming presence all his life looked like a fragile shell of himself. It disturbed and frightened him in a way he didn't like. And when he was scared, he tended to lash out.

After several minutes of strained silence, he took a deep breath. "You can't do this," he said as he felt his anger rising. "You're an asshole and I don't know why Mom loves you. But do you know what it's going to do to her if you give up now?" It felt so stupid talking to a practically empty room. But he'd read somewhere that coma patients were supposed to be able to hear even though they weren't technically conscious. There were a lot of things he always wanted to say and had never been able to make himself. But some of it was coming to the surface and he felt that now was as good as ever. For all he knew, the man might never wake up.

"You piss me off so much. You always have. I've never been good enough and you made sure I knew it." Maybe that's why he'd become and actor, so he could be somebody else. But he was getting off topic. "I'm gay, Dad. I know you know." Nerves jittered in Grimmjow's belly which was stupid. He'd come to terms with his own sexuality a long time ago but he'd never said it out loud in front of his father. To his dad it had been a phase, something he'd grow out of eventually. An embarrassment, nothing more. And as much as Grimmjow tried not to care about what everybody thought, he hadn't really officially announced his preference publicly.

"But you know something?" he asked, suddenly inspired. His family had always been driven by challenges and he leaned in close to make sure his father heard him. "If you give up now, I win. Think about that. You cut me out when I left, wrote me out of the will. But you know what? Mom'll cut me back in. You know she will. Hell, maybe she'll even let me take over the company. I mean, how hard could it be?" He went down closer still so he was right by his father's ear and whispered. "I'll run it right into the fucking ground. The company that you worked so hard to build. So you better wake the fuck up, asshole."

There was no response and Grimmjow didn't really expect one. But he sat and he waited. He didn't need to be anywhere until the day after tomorrow.

After a while, his mother wandered back into the room and stood by his shoulder. "He loves you," she said after a few moments.

"He has a funny way of showing it," Grimmjow muttered and braced his elbow on the arm of the chair so he could cover his face with his hand. Why had he come here? There was nothing he could do but he couldn't quite make himself leave yet.

His mother smoothed his hair fondly like she had when he was child. "I love you too."

"I know you do. And. . .I'm." Grimmjow's throat was suddenly dry. "I'm sorry." He hadn't spoken to her in years and here she was forgiving him. But as he thought about it, he realized that even when he'd gotten into trouble in his teens, she hadn't given up on him then. She hadn't given him a hard time or threatened to throw him out. She didn't deserve to be left alone. And while sometimes he really hated his father, deep down Grimmjow didn't want him to die.

"Hush, dear. It's alright." She continued smoothing his hair. "I'm proud of you for being who you are. And if you're happy, I'm happy for you."

Grimmjow couldn't think of a single thing to say to that. So he kept quite instead. His mother pulled up a chair next to him and they both settled down to keep watch.

. . . . . . .

Ichigo was sitting on the couch in his father's house savoring the memory of one of his sister's fantastic dinners. There was something so comforting about good food with family. He didn't even mind that he was doing his best to ignore Don Kanonji where he was boh-ha-haing on the television screen. It was one of Yuzu's favorite shows and he was trying to be nice. The guy was actually pretty sedate and intellectual to those few who got to know him personally. Ichigo had met him a while back when he done a guest spot on Searchlight. But his on-screen persona was just so loud and obnoxious.

"I wonder if he'll come back to town again. That was so much fun," Yuzu said where she practically bounced where she sat.

Ichigo couldn't help but smile even though the show annoyed him. He jumped in his seat when his father suddenly leaned in over the back of the couch and slung an arm over his shoulder.

"So!" he said in his surprisingly endearing yet obnoxious way. "What brings you home tonight, my son?"

"Do I need a reason?" Ichigo asked. It sounded a little defensive even to him.

"Of course not. Daddy's shining star is always welcome here."

Ichigo normally would have rolled his eyes at the dramatic comment but instead he sighed and felt a little stab of guilt. If Grimmjow's dad wasn't in his current condition, would he have come here tonight? He'd been busy and it had been quite a while. And that was just an excuse. Not wanting to dampen the mood, he shrugged and smiled. "Just felt like a home cooked meal for once."

This place kept him grounded too. Searchlight wasn't a total blockbuster show so he didn't get recognized on the street constantly but it was often enough. And when it did happen, the fans tended to gush just a little bit and it was just so odd. Ichigo liked being treated like a regular person and had never realized how much that mattered. Of course, Isshin boasted about his son the star all the time and made a general nuisance of himself. But the neighbors knew him well enough not to pay much attention beyond amused smiles and waves.

"Then my darling little Yuzu is just what the doctor ordered," Isshin said as he made some cute kissie noises that made Yuzu laugh. Karin was miming gagging motions on the other end of the sofa and Ichigo sighed happily. He couldn't imagine losing this and he had to swallow before he could say anything.

"Hey look," Karin said in an obvious effort to change the subject. "Searchlight is on." She'd always teased him about some of the stranger storylines and he struggled to think of which one was airing tonight.

"Ooo. I love your show." Yuzu was probably his biggest fan. "Awww. But I've seen this one already."

Indeed, it was a rerun. Ichigo chuckled as he remembered the storyline. Dante and Cole were investigating a series of violent attacks that were happening all over the city. It looked like an animal had done the damage and, surprise, surprise, all the incidents happened around the full moon. It was one of their first weird storylines that started to take them into preternatural territory. Of course, it had been explained away with rational evidence but there was just enough strangeness to let the audience wonder.

He laughed. "This was the episode when they made Dante allergic to dogs."

"Is Grimmjow allergic to dogs?" Karin asked.

"No. He's allergic to coconut. We had pina coladas the night before our first day of shooting." Ichigo laughed again. "He got this terrible rash and instead of covering it up with makeup, they wrote it into the script."

"Poor guy," Yuzu murmured. She'd always been a born caregiver.

"He got over it but he whined constantly." And then he practically purred when Ichigo had rubbed calamine lotion on his reddened skin at night after a long day of filming.

"You're looking kind of goofy there Ichi-nii." Karin's voice held a certain amount of suspicion. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just remembering funny stuff that happened on the set." Not the sexy stuff that happened with his secret boyfriend after shooting was done for the day. At least that's what he tried to project. They sat through the episode and he told them funny stories about some of the behind the scenes mistakes and on-camera goofs. At one point, Iba had been trying and failing to say _suspicious supernatural circumstances_. After a few failed tries, everybody had started laughing every time he opened his mouth. It had been the end of the day and everybody was tired. It was a fun memory and it made him smile.

He really did love his job and he wasn't really sure how he was going to cope with the changes they were making. Something big was coming and it wasn't just killing off his character. Shirosaki had something to do with it but he wasn't sure how he fit in yet. Usually, they had a head's up on future storylines but the writers were being incredibly secretive right now. And what the hell was he going to do for two whole weeks? He didn't have anything lined up as a side job and had no desire to go looking. Grimmjow would still be filming so it wasn't as if they could go do something to do together. Well, they hadn't banned him from the set so maybe he'd just hang around and watch. He'd figure out something.


	5. Chapter 5

Searchlight- 5

Dante curled his lip and glared at his captain. "Forget it. I'm not working with anyone else."

"It was not a request." Captain Wilson sat calmly behind his desk. His experience let him handle his surly detective without batting an eyelash but there were times like this one that were more challenging than others. Resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, he leaned back and steepled his fingers. "You will work with a partner or you will continue to remain on suspension."

"I don't need-"

"Regardless of what you think, yes you do. You need someone to watch your back." And he needed someone to keep his temper in check but Captain Wilson didn't say that out loud. Fighting the urge to sigh and rub his temple, he stared Dante down. "You're one of my finest detectives. Don't throw your career away."

It was on the tip of Dante's tongue to tell him to go fuck himself. After already being on suspension for two weeks after Cole's death, he'd come back to find another redhead sitting at his partner's desk. The guy was covered in tattoos and full of fire but he wasn't Cole. After immediately starting a fight and nearly kicking the newcomer's ass, he'd been hauled into the captain's office and unceremoniously dropped into a chair. Martin and Jack had gone back to their desks after passing him off to their superior but they still looked wary. Like they'd jump in to hold him down again if they had to.

Dante wasn't about to replace Cole with some guy they'd transferred in because they thought he needed a babysitter. He wanted to work by himself. He could handle it and he really didn't want to take the time to break in someone new. But the choice before him was a difficult one. Dante didn't know how to be anything but a cop and he wasn't sure what he'd do if he quit now. His temper was still raging but he had enough control to keep it in check. Mostly.

"Who _is_ that asshole?"

"Adam Spencer. He's vice out of the Twenty-Second. He's a good cop, cut him some slack."

"_Me_ cut _him_ some slack?" Dante hissed. It hadn't even been two fucking weeks and they'd cleaned up all of Cole's things like he hadn't even existed. "If he's so good, why did he get transferred here?"

"Because you need somebody. Talk to the department councilor or get a goddamned hobby. I don't care. Just get your act together and get back to work. _With_ Spencer."

Dante sneered. "Is that all, _Sir_?" he asked with more than just a hint of disdain.

Captain Wilson held his gaze steadily for a few moments and when he spoke in a quiet voice, some of Dante's fire dimmed. "If you think you're the only one who misses him, you're wrong." There was another moment of heavy silence before the captain reigned in the personal emotion and sat back behind the mantle of command. "Dismissed."

Dante didn't storm out of the office like he wanted to a moment before. Taking direct orders was always difficult for him and he really didn't like change if he could avoid it. But somewhere in his own grief, he'd forgotten that there were others that would miss Cole just as much. He didn't relish the thought of going back out to his desk and pretending to apologize. He wasn't sorry that he'd nailed the guy and he was still prepared not to like him. But he had to get back on the job and if the only way to do that was partner with Adam Spencer, then that's what he'd do.

Adam was nursing a split lip from where Dante had decked him before Martin and Jack stepped in to hold him back. His eyes flicked up when Dante came closer as if he were trying to decide whether or not to be on his guard. Dante just hoped he didn't press charges. That would just make his day. Taking a deep breath, he sighed.

"Look, I-"

Adam raised a hand and waved it off. "Don't. It doesn't matter."

"You're awfully accommodating for someone who just got his ass nearly handed to him," Dante said before his brain had a chance to catch up with his mouth. But after a moment, he decided that he really didn't care.

The other man narrowed his eyes but broke eye contact. "They told me about what happened. I didn't know. About you're partner."

"You're right, it doesn't matter." Dante's voice was colder than he intended but he wasn't about to have a heart to heart with some dick he'd never met. "I won't make a deal about it if you don't."

Adam watched him carefully before extending his hand. "Adam Spencer." He waited patiently while Dante tried to figure out what he was going to do. The moment hung as the tension grew slightly but it broke when Dante grudgingly took his hand and shook.

"Dante Dietrich." He let go and crossed his arms over his chest before he turned it into a petty test of strength. "Let's just get a few things straight up front. I don't like you, I probably never will. But I'll watch your back. We work, we go home and that's it." He didn't give Adam a chance to reply before stalking over to his desk and sitting so he could sort through the pile of folders that threatened to slide onto the floor.

Dante tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd said those exact words to Cole on their first day together. The memory suddenly hit him like a kick to the gut. They'd become so close since then. A partnership like that was closer than any marriage. They spent almost every waking hour together and the loss still ached like an empty hole in his chest. But he'd work through it. He always did.

"Cut. Excellent, Mr. Jaegerjaques. And that's dinner everyone. We still have another scene and some reaction shots so be back here in an hour." Urahara was practically prancing in place as he started watching the playback.

Grimmjow shrugged a shoulder and headed off the set. Finding motivation for that scene hadn't been all that hard. He didn't want to work with a new person just like Dante. It still fucking stung. On top of that, he was still dealing with his own personal issues. His dad would recover and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. After waiting at his side for two days, he'd woken up and spoken. His voice was rough and disused but clearly audible. The whispered "_Fuck you too, boy" _had put a bitter smile on Grimmjow's face. It meant that nothing had changed. But his mother was happy that his father was awake so that was something.

After making sure that she'd be okay, he'd flown back and jumped right into filming. He hadn't spoken to Ichigo at all in that time and he missed him. But he hadn't wanted to dump his crap on his lover just because he was having a hard time. Instead, he kept unloading it on everyone else. He hadn't quite pulled his punch in his scene with Renji as much as he should have. But the other man hadn't called him on it. Grimmjow supposed he really should give him a break. He was a friend of Ichigo's after all. He felt his mood continuing to go downhill and he tried to figure out how to make it better. Maybe he'd ambush Ichigo in his apartment after he got off work for the night. To blow off some steam if nothing else.

Unlocking his trailer, he stepped inside and pressed his forehead against the door. It only took a moment to realize that he wasn't alone. Strong arms snaked slowly around his waist as a warm body pressed up against his back. Grimmjow knew exactly who it was and a smirk pulled at his mouth. "I've been looking forward to this all day, Phillip. But you really should have called first. My boyfriend might get jealous." He laughed when the grip around his waist tightened and he felt the nip of teeth at his shoulder. Ichigo growled possessively and the sound shot straight to Grimmjow's dick.

"Jackass," the redhead murmured.

"Couldn't help myself." Grimmjow let himself be turned around and be pinned to the wall. Ichigo raised himself up on his toes and kissed him with enough force to rap his head softly against the door. It was a possessive battle of tongues and nipping teeth and just what he needed. When they pulled apart, he grinned. "Did you miss me that much?"

"Outrageously."

Grimmjow grinned again and resumed kissing him until they were both happily breathless.

When Ichigo could breathe again, his expression grew more serious. "How's your dad?"

Grimmjow knew he wasn't trying to break the mood on purpose. Ichigo honestly cared but Grimmjow wished he'd waited just a little longer to ask. Shrugging, he tried not to let his discomfort show.

"He'll live." He didn't really want to get into it now but maybe he needed to. He hadn't talked to anyone, not even his mom. "He woke up and swore at me so it's business as usual I guess." Wrapping his arms around Ichigo, he held him close buried his face in his hair. The arousal that had started just moments ago was fading. But maybe sex wasn't what he needed right now. "Shit," he murmured.

"It's alright, c'mere." Ichigo guided him over to the small couch and sat him down before snuggling on the cushions next to him. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Kinda. Been a little worn out lately." And he hadn't really been thinking about food. Ichigo kissed his cheek and nuzzled his neck but it wasn't the passionate frenzy from earlier. Just comfort and love. The redhead was always so much better at this part. Shifting, Grimmjow drew him close and held on tight for a while.

"Come home with me tonight." Filming would probably be done by eight and then he was taking off for the day.

"Of course." Ichigo turned Grimmjow's face with gentle fingers on his chin and kissed him softly. "Have something to eat before you go back. I'll make you an omelet."

"Sure." Grimmjow missed Ichigo's warmth as soon as he got up but he suddenly didn't have the energy to follow him. He watched as the redhead pulled out a shopping bag from the fridge. That was new. He must have brought it with him because the kitchenette was empty this morning. Grimmjow hadn't bothered to restock it lately. "So what are you going to be doing for the next couple of weeks? We're shooting at least two episodes without you. Filler stuff and emotional baggage mostly." He saw Ichigo flinch a little and almost wished he hadn't said anything.

There was a resigned sigh. "I don't know. I guess it's kind of like a vacation but I don't have anything planned. I was going to hang around the set." He smiled a little. "I don't often get a chance to harass Urahara while he's working. It's usually the other way around."

Grimmjow laughed and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. That would be priceless and he'd actually pay to see it. "What about that guy the gossip rags were frothing over?"

"Look, I don't know what anybody's told you but-"

"I'm not trying to give you a hard time. I'm honestly curious. I haven't even met him yet." The guy had never been in the business before. Grimmjow hadn't been able to find out anything about Shirosaki when he'd poked around on the internet.

"He's somebody that Urahara found. I think he's going to be in the show but I don't really know anything beyond that." Ichigo didn't sound particularly happy about it.

"What's he like?"

There was another sigh. "He flirts with anything that moves. And I don't think he has any acting experience at all. I mean, none. What the hell is Urahara thinking?"

"Probably hired him for looks. I hate it when that happens." And he did. Grimmjow took his acting relatively seriously and didn't like it when people got jobs on their looks alone.

"Depending on what they want, it could work." But Ichigo's heart wasn't in the words. He dished the omelet onto a plate and brought it over to the table. "You know, I hadn't realized how much I liked working on the show until I got written off of it. And it doesn't matter that I'm pretty sure that I'm coming back somehow." His eyes widened as he had a sudden thought. "Shit, I hope they don't bring me back as a ghost. That would suck." But it did sound like something the writers would do.

"As long as you get to come back, does it matter?" Grimmjow wasn't sure how he felt about it himself. He dragged himself up to go sit at the table.

"I don't know. It might be kind of weird. I just. . .arighh!" Ichigo let out a growl of frustration and flopped down in the seat across from Grimmjow and put his face in his hands.

"Hang in there." Grimmjow rubbed his foot up and down the redhead's calf and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry. I've managed to make this all about me. How are you doing?" There was a certain amount of chagrin in Ichigo's expression.

"It's okay, I'm fine. Abarai is pretty good. He rolls with the punches well enough." No pun intended, he thought silently.

"Are you changing the subject because you really are okay or because you just don't want to talk about it."

Grimmjow looked up and managed a small smile. "Would you be mad if it was a little of both?"

The smile was returned with a rueful twist of Ichigo's lips. "Maybe. But I guess I'll let you off the hook because you're cute." The smile turned impish as Ichigo batted his lashes at him. "If you're still feeling down later, I can cheer you up."

"Oh, I'm always up for you." Grimmjow stood and leaned across the table to give him a kiss. He honestly wasn't sure what he'd do without him.

. . . . . . .

Ichigo stood by the video village and watched the scene play on the screen in front of him. Dante and Adam were searching an office for clues while investigating the disappearances of several neighborhood teenagers. They tossed the carefully laid set while they tossed casual insults at the same time. There was enough tension and strained comradery to make the character dynamic work really well. Ichigo smiled when Grimmjow sneered at Renji. He'd seen that look point in his direction before. Urahara called cut and started watching some of the playbacks while everyone waited to see if they'd have to do it over again.

Ichigo had never really had the chance to be so close to the technical part of things and he found it fascinating. For the past week and a half he'd been hanging around the set watching the process from the outside. He'd even been helping the set dressers and production assistants. At first, he'd gotten some weird looks from the newer people who didn't know him very well. Some actors considered the techs beneath them and treated them accordingly but Ichigo had won them over easily enough. It was really kind of fun and a good distraction from not being in front of the camera.

Urahara had been hinting at some upcoming scenes for him but hadn't given him any details yet. There'd been no sign of Shirosaki all this time and Ichigo wondered about that. But it was just a fleeting thought. After work, he'd been distracting himself with his lover's company. He and Grimmjow had been spending quiet nights together in front of the television. They made fun of other shows and tuned into a few others they admired or enjoyed. Of course that was only when they weren't otherwise occupied in the bedroom.

"What's that smile for?"

Ichigo jumped when he heard Urahara's voice in his ear. "Um, nothing," he said hastily. His words were too quick and the other man apparently noticed.

"Really," Urahara said in a sly voice.

"Yeah, really." Actually he'd been fantasizing about laying Grimmjow out across one of the desks on the set and ravishing him. But that was beside the point. "What are _you_ grinning at, Old Man?" Ichigo felt himself getting a little defensive. Urahara probably knew about his relationship with Grimmjow since the man noticed everything. But Ichigo knew he wouldn't give anything away even if he did know.

"Nothing, nothing. So are you ready for some new scenes? We can start as early as this afternoon. It's something we wrote in for this episode."

Ichigo felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of working again. If he was totally honest with himself, he'd have to admit he liked seeing himself on screen. It might be a little narcissistic on his part but he supposed that every actor had that to some degree. Mostly he just wanted to be actively working again. All the puttering around was fun but it wasn't what he really wanted.

"What about this?" Ichigo gestured to the office set. He knew they weren't quite done yet.

"I've got it covered. Yoruichi will be the one directing your part."

Ichigo felt himself pale a little bit. He didn't really mind Yoruichi on a professional level but she had some serious trouble understanding boundaries and the concept of personal space. And she kept bugging him about modeling for her agency in his spare time. Ichigo didn't really mind that either but she kept getting him underwear adds that often ended up feeling like soft porn for some reason. Grimacing, he remembered the last argument he and Grimmjow had over that one. The other man didn't seem to mind publicly published wet dreams written by a bunch of horny girls but he got really possessive when it came to actual pictures of his boyfriend in nothing but his underwear.

"Don't be like that," Urahara said with a grin. "It'll be fun." It seemed like he was fully aware of Ichigo's discomfort and was silently laughing about it. And he might be.

Ichigo scowled. "As long as she keeps her hands to herself, it'll be fine. Where do I need to go?"

"Head over to soundstage three next door. They should be setting up now. I'll send Ulquiorra and Ilfort to meet you so they can get you into costume and makeup."

Ignoring his apprehension over working with Yoruichi, Ichigo felt his spirit lighten a little bit. He was getting back on the show. He hadn't been gone for very long but it was long enough to make him seriously miss it. When he got to the other stage, Ulquiorra and Ilfort were waiting for him and he gratefully let them fuss over him for a bit. Getting back into some semblance of routine was good and it made him feel better. It was a little unnerving when he realized the costume was the same thing he was wearing when Cole was shot. But at least they weren't soaked in blood. That might have been a little too much.

"There you are," Yoruichi said with a smile as she strode over wearing one of the skintight jumpsuits she favored. Her wardrobe hardly ever left anything to the imagination. "Ready to come back from the dead?"

Ichigo blinked at her and tried to figure out what she meant but just ended up shrugging. "I'm ready when you are."

"Alright then." Yoruichi clapped her hands and the lights on the stage came up on her command. One entire area was set up with wide swaths of green fabric to create a green screen. "If you would please, Ichi-kun."

Ichigo bristled a little at the name but refused to comment knowing that she was just teasing. And judging by the glitter in her eyes, she knew the effect it had. At least she was keeping her hands to herself.

"Is there a script?" he asked her.

"There are no lines. It will be more subtle than that. I want you to get into character and imagine that Dante's in danger."

"Will he be?" Ichigo hadn't read the scripts for the shows they were filming without him but it wouldn't be surprising. Danger was an inherent part of the show and the characters usually spent most of their time trying not to die.

"Don't worry about that, just try to project worry. And you're searching for something. Remember that part. Just let the rest come naturally." She gestured to the camera to start filming.

It sounded more like a modeling job than an acting one. But Ichigo knew the two could overlap sometimes. Taking a breath and sifting through his memories of playing Cole, he focused on his connection to Dante and their history together.

"Good. Not quite so pouty," Yoruichi said softly. "Show me some longing. Now reach out. A little hesitant. Good. Really good." She was staring intently at the screen as her eyes flicked up to Ichigo and back down again. She guided him through a few more emotions before calling cut. "Let's shift some of this lighting."

One of the nearby electrician assistants huffed. "Aren't they just going to screw with it in post?"

"Do it anyway," she said without even looking at him. When Ichigo felt the lighting shift subtly around him, Yoruichi started the cameras and they did it all again. Her smirking smile was enough to tell him that she liked what she saw. But it was over all too soon and Ichigo changed back into his street clothes. Yoruichi must have seen some of his disappointment and came over to pat his cheek. At least she'd waited until he was completely dressed this time.

"Don't look so down. We've got a script for you next week." She grinned a toothy smile. "And then things will really be rolling."

. . . . . . .

"So what is this again, exactly?" Grimmjow asked as he sauntered into the screening room.

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he followed. "Urahara wants us to have a preview of the episode we just filmed. The video techs have been working on it all weekend and want to show and tell." The space smelled overwhelmingly of popcorn from the machine that was setup by the door.

Urahara came over and pushed a full bowl into Ichigo's hands. "Have a seat," he said as he gestured to the mismatched assortment of easy chairs and small couches.

"Isn't anybody else coming?" Ichigo looked around and didn't say anybody except for a couple of the post production crew that were in a tight conference over in the corner.

"They can see it when it airs. I know the two of you have been rather apprehensive about recent events and I wanted you to see that it was worth it."

Grimmjow sniffed and stole a handful of popcorn from Ichigo's bowl. "Hey, _I'm_ still in front of the camera. The rest is just details." He pointedly ignored Ichigo's dark look and sprawled in one of the chairs. Grimmjow hadn't meant for the comment to come out like that but his inner asshole always seemed to be louder when he and Ichigo weren't alone. Ichigo took the chair next to him and despite how pissed he'd looked a moment ago, he automatically set the bowl on a small table between them. Who were they freaking kidding? Nobody could put on an act twenty-four-seven. Everybody had to know that they were a couple. Why were they even bothering to hide it?

Not knowing the answer, Grimmjow sat and brooded as the lights in the room were dimmed and the projector was turned on. This was just a rough cut so there were no opening graphics or credits, just scenes pasted together. In some places, the time markers were still visible in the lower left part of the screen. The story for this episode had been about a group of missing teenagers and the investigation led Dante and Adam to a cult that was sacrificing them in a predictably dark way complete with rituals and altars.

At one point, Dante was chasing a subject that seemed to fly from one rooftop to another. Not one to give up or take into account physics before chasing after him, Dante had taken a running start and leapt after him. Grimmjow could see where the scene cut away to show the stunt man from a distance and then came back into him when he tucked and rolled when he landed. He always liked doing his own stunts but the insurance company kept giving them hell and they had to use doubles for the really dangerous parts. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ichigo's lips twitch a little as he watched Grimmjow's shirt get torn open during a fight with the suspect.

"I see you managed to get your shirt off," Ichigo murmured with an amused glint in his eye as he glanced at Grimmjow.

"Hey, I'm just here to give the audience what it wants." The subtext was heavy and both of them visibly shook themselves before turning back to the screen again. Comments like that would have to wait until they were alone.

In the final scene, the cultists' hideout caught fire when an altar full of candles was tipped over. Soon the room was full of flames. Dante had urged Adam to get the teenagers out while he held off the cult leader in a drawn out fight that ended up trapping them both in a burning room. Once the bad guy was defeated, it seemed that Dante would remain trapped. His hair was artfully disheveled and there were strategically placed ash smudges on his face. Overcome by the smoke, he fell to his knees coughing.

Then, in the shimmering heat in front of him, an image appeared. It was Cole. He seemed to be looking for something. Dante's eyes glistened and he reached out so that their fingertips almost touched. And then Adam burst into the room, dissipating the vision. He grabbed Dante and pulled him out of the building. It was a well done scene even in a rough cut like this one. Ichigo hadn't been sure what they were going to do with the green screen footage they shot earlier in the week but now it made perfect sense and it fit really well.

Grimmjow hadn't seen any of Ichigo's part of the scene before even though he knew what he was supposed to be looking at when they filmed his own part. The image disturbed him a little and he had to remind himself that Ichigo wasn't really dead. He flicked his eyes over to the redhead before the screen caught his attention again. There was a discordant giggle from the blackness and the image of a pale, shadowed face could be seen. And the eyes. The glinting golden glow was eerie and made Grimmjow blink in surprise. It was a quick shot that faded into darkness just before the film stopped rolling. What the hell had that been?

"Whoa," Ichigo breathed. The fans were going to have a field day with this one. "When is this airing again?" he asked.

"Three weeks. There's a lot more to be done of course but we're right on schedule." Urahara was tapping his fan happily.

Ichigo did a couple mental calculations. The episode where Cole died would be airing this week and he had mixed feelings about it. He was proud of the job he'd done but he wasn't sure if it would upset Yuzu or not. He didn't want to ruin the episode for her but he didn't want her to be traumatized by it either. Maybe he'd go over for dinner that night so she could see that he was okay. Or maybe he wasn't giving her enough credit for understanding that it was all acting.

"What are you obsessing about now?" Grimmjow's words broke through his thoughts and made Ichigo jump in the chair.

"Nothing."

"That last bit didn't scare you, did it?" The grin that accompanied the mocking question did nothing to ease Ichigo's immediate ire. He scowled and refused to rise to the bait.

"Now, now. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Why don't the two of you go home and get some _rest_." Urahara might have been wiggling his eyebrows suggestively but it was hard to tell under the shadow of his hat. Both actors shot him an annoyed look before getting up and heading out the door. He'd practically ordered them to come watch this and now he was practically pushing them out. Ichigo wasn't sure he'd ever figure the other man out.

Grimmjow leaned in and whispered in Ichigo's ear as they walked down the narrow corridor. "Did you tell him?"

"No, he just knows every damned thing," Ichigo muttered. "But he won't say anything. Let's go home."


	6. Chapter 6

Searchlight- 6

Ichigo went limp on top of Grimmjow with a soft, satisfied sigh. They lay together for a while listening to each other's heartbeats as they slowed to a more normal rate. But the silence was broken when Ichigo spoke a few minutes later. "Do you think Urahara was just trying to psyche us out?"

"Hmm?" Grimmjow shifted and blinked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The showing yesterday." Ichigo propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at him, his eyes narrowed. "You know. When you said that as long as you were on screen you didn't give a shit about anything else?"

Shaking off the afterglow, Grimmjow stretched and rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Are you pissed about that? That's not even what I said."

Huffing, the redhead sat up and stared down at him. "You may as well have."

Grimmjow struggled for words and couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound pretentious or trite. "I didn't mean it. Not like that."

Rubbing his fingers idly against Grimmjow's shoulder, Ichigo sighed. "I know. I'm just so worked up about everything and I don't even know why. When it finally happens, it probably won't even be a big deal. How stupid will that be?"

"Don't sweat the small stuff."

"Thank you, Captain Cliché," Ichigo said dryly before hitting him with a pillow. Laughing quietly, he slid off the bed. "Come on. We've got to get to work. I might even get to do something today."

"Well," Grimmjow said as he dragged himself up and yawned. "You were called for the table reading so you're in the episode somewhere."

"Hopefully."

In the meeting room at the studio, everyone greeted Ichigo warmly. He smiled as took his seat and sipped his coffee. It felt good to be here again. As soon as the script was handed to him, he flipped the cover open and scanned the pages with hungry eyes. He spared Grimmjow a brief look as he sat down across from him and did the same thing but most of Ichigo's attention was focused on reading. It didn't take long for him to find something to worry about. He huffed a breath as he kept reading. "Please, please don't make Cole a zombie," he muttered.

"What's the matter. Don't feel like shuffling around and moaning? Or is it the potential makeup weirdness that's freaking you out?"

Ichigo looked up to see Grimmjow smirking at him. "No." But it wasn't a very convincing denial. The possibilities of that particular idea weren't very appealing. He wasn't a big zombie fan.

"Look on the bright side," Grimmjow said as continued to flip pages. "From the look of things, you'll be able to catch up on your sleep."

He was right. There were several scenes where Cole's body was present and visible. Ichigo would end up laying around for hours pretending to be dead. Not exactly an acting stretch for him but he supposed it was better than nothing. He continued flipping pages to see where the story lead. After a couple more minutes, there was an exasperated huff from across the table and Ichigo looked up to see Grimmjow frowning. The other man was staring intently at one of the pages in front of him and his expression was a mix of irritation and something that looked like bemusement.

Checking the page Grimmjow was on, Ichigo flipped through to see what he was looking at as his anxiety returned. The last time he'd flipped this frantically through a script, he found out that Cole died. There were only a few lines on the page and none of them were Dante or Cole's. It was somebody called _Hollow_. Who the hell was that? As he read the description of the setting, he knew why Grimmjow was conflicted. The scene was short but Ichigo was supposed to be naked the whole time. And chained to the floor. He looked across the table and smirked. Grimmjow saw his face and his lips twitched a little but he did his best to hold it in. This could be interesting.

. . . . . . .

Dante trudged over the hill through the graveyard. It had been a month since Cole had died and he hadn't been here since the funeral. On that horrible day, everyone had stood so somber in their dress uniforms as they laid his partner to rest. Dante swallowed painfully at the memory as he tried to force his steps to carry him forward. He didn't want to be here but the shrink wouldn't stop pestering him, saying that he needed some sort of closure. Maybe. He knew the pain would fade but he also knew it would never really go away completely.

Sighing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept walking. But as he rounded a large monument, he stopped in his tracks. The ground a few feet away had been disturbed recently and mounds of dirt littered the area. Clumps of it dirtied the headstone that stood forlorn in the crumpled grass. Dante stared dumbly at the scene before him and tried to make sense of it.

Somebody had dug up Cole's grave.

Fury surged up from the depths and gripped him by the throat. Who would dare? It took him several minutes to calm down enough to do anything other than shake with anger. He wanted to tear the place apart, to destroy everything he could get his hands on. But that wouldn't solve anything. His eyes went flat as his mind went to the place inside him where the horrible things he saw didn't get in the way of the job. He needed to scour the area for clues. His captain would never let him take the case officially so he'd have to get as much info as he could before somebody else came in and took over. Heading to his car, he took his kit out of the trunk and got started.

Somewhere else, in a very dark place, something watched and waited. The pale figure was cloaked in shadow as he sat on his dark throne. His golden eyes gleamed in the darkness and a twisted smile pulled his pale lips as a discordant chuckle echoed in the room. Hovering in the air before him was an image of Dante examining Cole's headstone.

"And so it begins." The stranger's voice was a distorted warble as his gaze shifted to the floor in front of the throne.

A lone figure lay curled on its side, his tanned skin looking pale and grimy in the diffused light that came from everywhere and nowhere. The dull orange of his disheveled hair was the only color in the space. Thick shackles circled his wrists and ankles with chains that were bolted to the floor.

"It won't be long now," the golden-eyed stranger said as he gazed at his prize fondly. "Your soul is mine and you're my ticket to the world of the living."

Cole's captive soul said nothing. He didn't even move and seemed to be unaware of his surroundings. The shadows slowly started to thicken until the room was no longer visible.

"Cut. Nice job, Ogichi." Urahara's fan flipped happily as he started watching a playback of the screen.

Shirosaki chuckled again, his natural voice much smoother than the edited version in the scene. "This is awesome. Like playing make-believe and getting paid for it." He glanced down at Ichigo when he heard the rattle of chains as the redhead sat up. A production assistant had come over to give him a robe as he unlatched the shackles himself. The albino rested an elbow on the arm of the throne and propped his chin in his hand. "They seem to like filming you in your birthday suit. Is that weird?"

Shrugging into the robe and tying the belt, Ichigo shook his head. "No, not really. The first time I thought everybody would be all giggles and blushes but it's surprisingly professional."

"But I bet the fans get all flighty," Shirosaki said with a grin. He wasn't wearing much himself. The lighting made it look like he was naked but he wore a pair of tight shorts that were hidden in the shadows. As he stood and stretched under the stage lights, lean muscles could be seen rippling under his pale skin. And his golden eyes still twinkled with humor.

"Alright, I've got to ask," Ichigo said. "I don't want to be rude but are you wearing contact lenses?" Shirosaki's eyes looked the same as when they'd met at the diner.

"Nope." Ogichi's grin stretched wide. "Totally natural. Sort of. Can't quite remember what it's called but it makes my iris yellow and the whites black. Totally freaky, isn't it?" He wiggled his eyebrows and seemed absurdly pleased with the idea.

Ichigo couldn't help laughing. The albino just chuckled with him before wandering over to the craft service table for something to munch on. He didn't bother with a robe. Ichigo watched him for a moment before going over to the video village and looking at the screen over Urahara's shoulder.

"Do you need more or can I get dressed?"

"I believe we're good. You can resume your modesty," Urahara replied with a flap of his fan.

Ichigo glared and huffed but he wasn't really mad. It was mostly for form's sake as he headed to his trailer so he could shower and change. They'd rubbed him down with oil and dusted him with dark powder to give his skin a dirt-streaked, sweaty sheen under the lights and right now he felt really grubby. On the way to the door, Grimmjow passed him and their shoulders brushed.

"Need any help with cleanup?" the other man murmured with a smirk.

Ichigo chuckled and replied in a quiet whisper. "We'd never fit in my shower. We tried that once, remember?" And there had been an incredibly panicked moment when they both thought they'd need help to get out.

"Right, right." Grimmjow's lips were twitching at the memory. "I'll just use my imagination then." His gaze was incredibly suggestive as his eyes quickly raked up and down Ichigo's body.

Ichigo suppressed a shiver and considered taking a really cold shower. Gesturing off toward the set, he tried to change the subject. "You've got a couple scenes to do anyway. I'll be back to play dead in a little bit." Patting Grimmjow's shoulder before he thought about it, he tried not to abort the action like he was guilty of something. Grimmjow's brows raised a little but he didn't say anything as Ichigo headed out the stage door into the parking lot.

. . . . . . .

Adam glared silently out the car window into the darkness. He'd been following Dante for the last couple of days. The man had taken leave suddenly without notice and from what Adam had seen so far, he didn't take time off unless he was ordered. There was something going on and he knew it. He just wasn't sure what it was.

Right now, Dante was driving across the city with a look of steely determination on his face. He tended to get that look when he had a hot lead. Or when someone was in danger. He wasn't quite breaking any traffic laws but it was a close thing. Driving after him as best he could without being seen, Adam followed him.

Dante had finally tracked down the ones who had dug up Cole's body. The trail had led him to an occult shop and the fortune teller there had told him some strange things that were disturbing. She said that Coal wasn't completely dead. That he'd been marked by a demon and would rise again. Dante had felt a thin, unrealistic stab of hope that he'd see Cole again that was quickly crushed by disbelief at the absurdity. Cole was dead. He'd held his partner's body in his arms as he died. But there had been that one case a few months back where Cole had nearly been sacrificed to a demon by a fanatic who thought he could buy the favor of his lord. Cole had ended up with a scar on his chest and Dante had seen that same symbol smeared in blood on the back of Cole's headstone.

Right now hew was heading to the address of a supposedly secret meeting place and where he might find Cole's body and the people who took him. The abandoned house was boarded up on the outside but Dante could see a bare flicker of light through the cracks in a basement window. Somebody was in there. He got out of the car and circled around to look for an entrance and found a set of doors that went down into the cellar. He was so intent on being quiet himself that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind him. There was a flash of pain as he was struck from behind and everything went black.

Adam had been sitting outside the house, bristling with impatience. Dante had gone in there more than fifteen minutes ago and hadn't come out again. That wasn't good. Should he call in backup or just go kick Dante's ass himself? The man shouldn't be out here alone. Gripping his phone tightly, Adam shoved it back into his pocket. He'd get a look first before calling anyone. It would be a pain in the ass if it was a false call. Going around to the back, he found a set of stairs that led down. The sound of chanting could be heard and he pulled out his weapon.

In the basement, a large circle of strange symbols had been drawn on the floor. There were candles everywhere and they cast flickering shadows across the walls. Adam's eyes widened when he saw Cole's body laying in the center of the design. The suit he'd been buried in had been replaced by a thin white robe and his hands were folded over his breast. Dante was kneeling at the edge of the circle. His eyes were dull and he stared with an unfocused gaze at Cole like he was in some kind of trance. His shirt had been torn open and a symbol had been cut into his skin so it ran red with blood.

Four robed and hooded figures moved around the circle chanting words Adam didn't understand. He was about to raise his gun and tell them to freeze but an unseen force knocked him backwards. He hit the wall and slid down to the floor unable to move. What the hell was going on? He'd heard rumors about some the freaky things this precinct dealt with but he hadn't really believed any of them. But despite how he struggled to get up, he was firmly held in place by something he couldn't see.

One of the cloaked men spoke, his deep voice a dull monotone. "The ritual is almost complete. The vessel is ready and his anchor to the living world came as planned. You will not interfere."

The chanting rose to a near deafening crescendo as wind started whipping about in the underground space. The candles were suddenly blown out but the symbols on the floor started to glow. Adam held his breath as he saw Dante arch back suddenly as light streamed from the glowing symbol on his chest and down toward Cole's body. And then Cole screamed. It was a startled wail of pain that rang in the basement before trailing of into a soft whimper. The glow of the symbols died then they were all plunged into darkness.

After a few startled moments, Adam found that he could move again but he couldn't find words to describe what he'd just seen. Taking out his pocket flashlight, he shook off his shock and scanned the room. There was no sign of the robed men anywhere as he searched every corner. As the beam of bright light continued to move, it landed on Dante who blinked unsteadily in the glare. He was holding Cole in his arms.

"Holy Shit." Adam was at a loss of what to do but his training kicked in and kept him from totally freaking out. "We need to call this in," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

He heard the click of a gun cocking and his eyes widened again. Dante's expression was feral and haunted as he pointed his weapon at Adam. Was he still out of it from whatever had been done to him?

"Dante," Adam began as he nervously licked his lips. "We have to. . ." He swallowed and nearly choked on it when Cole shifted in Dante's grip and groaned. Adam had been praying that he'd just imagined him screaming. It was like he'd come back to life. But that was impossible!

"No," Dante whispered. "Have to figure things out first. They'll take him away." He looked at Adam with pleading eyes and lowered the gun a little. "Please."

Not knowing what else to say, Adam just nodded. He'd never heard Dante ask anyone for anything let alone say please. Letting out a shaky sigh, Adam nodded. "Okay. But we better get out of here."

Dante nodded absently and looked at the man he held in his arms. He didn't know what happened. After getting knocked out, he'd been in a daze. Like he was trapped in a dream and couldn't wake up. Until he heard Cole screaming. That snapped something inside him and when he came to himself, his partner was breathing and his heart was bating again. Dante wasn't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. Something wasn't right about the whole thing but he had no idea what it was. But he had Cole back. Helping the half conscious redhead to his feet, he slung his arm across his shoulders and walked him toward the stairs.

Cole's head hung low and he didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings. Neither Dante nor Adam saw the flash of gold that flickered over Cole's half-lidded eyes.

"Cut."

"Awesome." Renji was grinning as he looked around the basement set. "I always thought this show was kind of goofy with all the supernatural stuff but this is really fun."

"I told you," Ichigo said as he straightened and returned the smile. Ever since the storylines had taken a dip into the strange, Renji had made fun of him mercilessly. Ichigo mostly took it in stride because half of the time, he agreed with him. But his defense was always that he enjoyed working on the show no matter how weird it got. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one.

"Well, gentleman, that's a wrap for this episode," Urahara said as he came over to the basement set they'd built on the soundstage. Several episodes had called for bare concrete backdrops and so far, it had served as the basement of two houses, a sewer and an underground bunker. "We're well on our way to the season finale." Urahara had that smile again. The one that made everybody a little nervous. But most everyone on the set was used to it and they all started to trickle away.

Renji clapped Ichigo on the shoulder and grinned. "I've got to take off. I'll see you next week. You should come over to hang out sometime," he added as he headed off.

Ichigo grinned and nodded. "Sure." It had been a while since he'd been out with friends and it might be a good thing. Usually he was too busy and recently he'd been too depressed. He turned when someone came up to him.

"Excuse me, Cole Latimer?"

A delivery man stood at Ichigo's side with a goofy grin on his face. He held a bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase and thrust it out towards the startled redhead. He had an odd, star struck look on his face as his eyes flicked around the set. Hinamori jogged up behind him with two security officers, her face not nearly as friendly.

"Sorry, Urahara-san. He snuck by me." She worked in the office and took care of all deliveries and a lot of the fan mail. Right now, she was frowning at the delivery man. "I told you to wait. This is a closed set."

He looked a little abashed but it was mostly covered by his fascination as he handed the flowers over and continued to look around. Some people got all weird an giggly when they came onto a soundstage with known actors for the first time. He pulled out his phone. "Hey, can I get a picture with. . ." He was cut off as security politely but firmly started to escort him out.

There were mixed reactions from the remaining people on the set ranging from surprise to seasoned indifference. Ichigo was looking at the flowers in his hands with a mix of surprise and curiosity. He got a lot of fan mail and the occasional gift but as far as he knew, nobody had anything delivered to the set before. He went over and set them down on a table so he could take a look at the card. It was addressed to his character and not to him. That was always a little weird, like some people couldn't grasp the concept that he was an actor playing a role. The message on the card was no less strange.

_-I look forward to when we can finally be together. I know you're very busy so you haven't been able to contact me or reply to my messages. But I'm waiting patiently.-_

Grimmjow grumbled something unintelligible from where he'd come up beside him. Ichigo put the card back uneasily. The gift didn't seem quite so pleasant now.

"I'll have it taken care of, Ichigo. Don't worry about it." Urahara gestured to one of the production assistants who swept in and carried the flowers off out of sight.

Hinamori glanced at the card as it passed and frowned. "Another one?"

"Another one? What do you mean?" Ichigo turned to her.

"Well-" She blushed a little when she realized she'd spoken out loud. "We didn't want to bother you with anything upsetting."

"Upsetting? It sounds like he's got a freaking stalker!" Grimmjow snarled. "And why is he only hearing about it now?" He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and glowered at everybody. The people who were still hanging around the set started to edge a little closer in the hopes that something interesting might happen. It had been a long time since Grimmjow had thrown a total fit on the set and it could be quite entertaining. But before things got out of hand, Urahara waved all of them away.

"Everybody take off early and have a good weekend." Turning to Grimmjow and Ichigo, he lowered his voice. "The two of you get changed and come to my office."

A little while later, they were both slumped on the couch in Urahara's tiny office waiting for him to finish a phone call. They sat close enough for the line of their thighs to press together but neither cared at the moment. Ichigo turned to Grimmjow and murmured to him quietly.

"You seem awfully worked up about this. You've gotten a couple of letters like that before but you totally blew them off and said it was nothing." The other man was worried about this, he could tell.

Grimmjow shrugged. "I can handle it."

"And I can't?" Ichigo glared at him. "What makes you think that I-"

"Enough, Ichigo." Urahara cut him off and folded his hands on the desk after hanging up the phone.

Ichigo sneered. "What? He thinks I'm a weakling and you've been hiding things from me. I think I have a right to be irritated." He was actually on his way to being pissed but he knew it wouldn't solve anything.

"Perhaps. But he's worried and maybe rightly so. On the other hand," Urahara said to Grimmjow. "It's no reason to panic."

"What's no reason to panic?" Ichigo cut in before either man could say anything else. "Hinamori said that it was another one. What did she mean by that? Are there more?" Ichigo found himself oddly on edge now. It didn't get any better when Urahara pulled out a stack of papers that looked like letters. He frowned at them. "Are those all. . ?"

Grimmjow was already getting out of his seat so he could flip through them. "When did they first start showing up?"

"A few weeks ago." Urahara wasn't really smiling which was unsettling enough. He sighed and looked patiently up at Grimmjow. "There's nothing illegal in any of them and there are no direct threats so technically speaking, there's nothing that can be done."

"Until whoever it is tries to hurt him, you mean." It came out as a growl as Grimmjow tossed the letters down on the desk in a messy cascade.

"It may not come to that."

"They had flowers delivered to the set. That's a step up from just sending letters."

"Would you stop talking about me like I'm not even here?" Ichigo snapped. Both men looked at him like they'd forgotten he was in the room. He stalked over and scanned a few of the letters himself. They seemed harmless enough. But there were places that made it sound like the author assumed the two of them would be getting together. Romantically together. It got more obvious toward the bottom of the stack but it still wasn't completely terrible. The only thing that was really creepy was the sheer number of them.

"So now what?" he asked.

"Like I said, there's not much to be done," Urahara said calmly. "I don't think there's anything specific to worry about at this point. Security will be increased on the set and mail will be sorted more thoroughly. But I do suggest you be cautious." He spoke to Ichigo but flicked his eyes to Grimmjow in a not so subtle gesture when he said the last part.

Ichigo glared at them both and would have stalked out of the office. But Grimmjow caught his wrist. After resisting for a moment and realizing he'd have to really fight to get away, he stayed still. When Grimmjow saw that he wasn't going to storm out, he gave his hand a gentle squeeze and let go. The director's lips twitched in what might have been a smile.

"Why don't you two go home? Enjoy the weekend and we'll get started on the next episode on Monday."

Without another word, Grimmjow steered Ichigo toward the door. They took their own cars but Grimmjow followed his care the whole drive hime and came into his apartment right behind him. Once inside with the door shut, he grabbed a hold of the redhead and pulled him close. His voice was muffled where he buried his face into his neck.

"I'm allowed to be worried."

Ichigo couldn't think of a reply to that. "I'm not helpless." And he wasn't but he held on tight and pressed into the embrace. "I can't stress out about it."

Grimmjow opened his mouth and sounded like he was going to speak but went quiet before saying anything.

"What?" Ichigo pulled back to look at his face but Grimmjow wasn't looking at him.

"One of the guys I used to work with started getting letters like those ones. It started out small. Just an obsessed fan with some delusions that seemed harmless." His look was serious and he swallowed hard.

"What happened?" Ichigo had an idea and it wasn't good.

"Some girl broke into his house and attacked him."

"Are you trying to freak me out?" Ichigo had heard of things like that but it was one of things that he'd never really applied to himself. He was still a little disbelieving but Grimmjow was acting too weird. "What happened to him?"

Grimmjow shrugged and tried to be nonchalant. "He didn't die or anything. But he gave up the business and changed his name. He got so paranoid that he pushed everyone away. I haven't heard from him in more than four years."

"I'm not going to stop living because of something that might happen." Ichigo was getting the feeling that Grimmjow assumed he couldn't take care of himself again and the irritation returned.

"Just be careful."

"Grimm-"

"You matter to me."

The quiet words cut off anything he might have said in response. So instead, he wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's waist and sighed.


	7. Chapter 7

Searchlight- 7

"Oniiii-chaaaan!" Yuzu's cry carried over the phone and made Ichigo instantly alert. He dropped the shoe he was putting on and clenched the phone in his hand. She was always so sweet natured and it was rare to hear her sound upset about anything.

"Yuzu, what's wrong?"

"Your deeeeeeaaaaad!" she wailed dramatically. "How could they let you die?!"

Oh no. Ichigo nearly groaned as he cursed his stupidity. He'd totally forgotten that the episode where Cole died was scheduled to air tonight even though he'd promised himself he'd be there with her when it did. "C'mon, Yuz," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "You know they'd never let that happen."

"But I saw it and it was horrible. And so sad. What about Dante?" She sucked in a sharp breath. "How is Grimmjow taking this?"

"It's okay. He's fine. I'm fine. It's just a show, Yuzu." Ichigo made a face at Grimmjow who was sprawled on the couch across from him rolling his eyes. He was sweet to Ichigo's sisters, Yuzu especially, but it didn't stop him from giving Ichigo a hard time.

"I am aware that it's a television show," Yuzu said primly. "I just don't like seeing you hurt, even if it's just pretend."

Suitably chastised, Ichigo sighed. "Of course you do. But don't worry. It'll be okay."

"Will they fix it? Was it just a dream? Or maybe a vision of the future that you can avoid? Oh, oh! I know!" Her voice brightened with excitement. "It's an alternate reality!" She continued peppering him with questions, her tone eager now rather than worried or angry. He was glad she was considering the possibilities rather than dwelling on what had happened during the episode.

"You know I'm not supposed to tell you," he said, his tone teasing. "Just keep watching. It'll be okay, I promise."

"Okay," Yuzu said quietly as she tried to hide her dissapointment. She might have continued asking but they'd discussed the confidentiality clauses in his contract before. She'd still wonder but wouldn't try to wheedle information out of him after he'd said he couldn't tell her. Sighing in defeat, she changed the subject. "Are you coming home for dinner soon? You should bring Grimmjow over again."

Letting a smirk pull at his lips, Ichigo looked at Grimmjow in a way that made the other man blink almost nervously. "Sure. I think it would be a great idea for Grimmjow to go fishing with dad." He laughed when Grimmjow paled and his eyes widened. He got along well enough with Isshin but could only stand him in small doses. The prospect of spending hours in a boat with him seemed to be terrifying.

Yuzu giggled. "Grimmjow's listing right now and you're messing with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Couldn't help myself. We'll see you Saturday."

"We?" Grimmjow asked cautiously as Ichigo hung up.

"Dinner at my dad's place."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to figure out if he'd just been maneuvered into something he'd regret later. "And the fishing?" he asked cautiously.

Ichigo let his grin widen and enjoyed the way Grimmjow shifted in his seat. "Oh, c'mon. He's always so sad that he has to go by himself all the time."

"Ichi, you know I think your dad's great but. . .fishing?" He rolled the word around in his mouth as if he weren't quite sure of the taste. "There'd have to be a lot of drinking involved."

Ichigo let him squirm for a few moments before finally letting him off the hook. "Of course, he also complains that he never has any time to go which is why he doesn't even have fishing poles anymore."

Grimmjow glowered. "You can be such a prick sometimes," he muttered.

"You love it."

After a few moments, Grimmjow shrugged and stretched his arms out along the back of the couch a lazy smile pulled at his mouth. "Can't argue with the truth. Everything okay over there? She sounded kind of shrill when you first picked up."

"The episode where Cole died just aired. I was going to be there to soften the blow but I totally forgot. I'm such an ass." Ichigo sighed and rubbed his forehead before going over to stare out the window.

It had been a couple of days since he'd gotten the creepy flowers and he wasn't really sure how to deal with it. The whole thing was distracting enough that he was having trouble keeping track of things. But he had trouble maintaining his worry as he was turned around and a pair of muscular arms wrapped around him. He was lifted up off the floor.

"I like your ass," Grimmjow murmured into his ear as he started carrying him back into the bedroom.

"Don't you ever get tired?" They'd spent the weekend at Ichigo's place, mostly in bed. Ichigo chuckled despite himself as he wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's waist. He knew that the other man was most likely trying to distract him from his worries. He didn't want to ignore everything but he had trouble piecing together a coherent thought as a hot mouth latched onto his neck and started trailing kisses down toward his collarbone. Grimmjow laid him down on the bed and slid his hands under Ichigo's ass and squeezed.

"I've always got a little something extra for you."

Ichigo laughed again but it quickly turned into a moan as Grimmjow kissed him and thrust his tongue into his mouth. Ichigo slid his hands up under his lover's shirt and massaged his lower back along his spine. Breathless, he broke away for a moment.

"Hey, I was trying to get ready and go grocery shopping," he huffed.

"The store will still be there when we're done." Grimmjow yanked Ichigo's shirt up and off before leaning in to latch onto one of the redhead's nipples.

"Ah, o-okay," Ichigo stammered as his brain finally fogged up completely. He'd only managed to get one shoe on earlier and he toed it off before kicking it across the room. Then they were all busy hands and hot mouths. The touching and waves of sensation rose and crashed, making them both sigh. When they were finally momentarily sated, Ichigo lay back and let his heartbeat settle. "Gonna need another shower before I go out."

Grimmjow tightened his arms where they wrapped around him. "You really need to go?"

"Unless you want something more than melba toast, mustard, and capers for dinner, yeah. That's pretty much all I've got."

"Melba toast and capers?" Grimmjow wrinkled his nose. "What the hell do you have those for?"

"Remember that cooking with the stars thing I did a few weeks ago?" Ichigo shrugged. "They were in the backstage gift basket."

"And you tell me _my_ agent is a moron," Grimmjow muttered.

"Hey, it was fun. And you really liked that stuff with the lamb when I tried the recipe at home." Slipping out of the other man's grip, Ichigo headed toward the bathroom. "You're not exactly all that picky when it comes to television appearances yourself, you know."

"I said no to that wilderness survival reality thing didn't I?"

"Only because you love indoor pluming too much."

"I don't view that as a character flaw," Grimmjow said, his tone flat. "And besides, _those_ guys are morons. I mean, jump roping through an obstacle course in the woods while blindfolded? C'mon. That's just bullshit. I'm an actor not a trained show dog."

Ichigo's laugh trailed out of the bathroom over the sound of running water. "So you're just going to sit around in front of all those people next weekend without showing off at all? Now _that's _bullshit."

Next weekend? What the hell was he talking about? Grimmjow grabbed his phone from the bedside table to look at his calendar. "Oh, shit. I totally forgot," he muttered darkly.

Ichigo came out with a towel hitched loosely around his hips. "You must really be off your game then. You've been looking forward to the convention for weeks."

"It's not really that important," he said offhandedly. He _had_ been looking forward to it but now he wasn't so sure. There would be a lot of people there. "Look, maybe we should skip this year."

"We're not cancelling," Ichigo snapped in sudden irritation as he glared at Grimmjow. The other man glared right back.

"Last year was packed and it's only going to be more crowded this time." They'd been a no-name cable show when they'd signed up for their first Sci-Fi convention and hadn't drawn huge audiences at the time. But the show's ratings had more than doubled since then and some of their fan base was pretty rabid judging by the blogs and sites Grimmjow had looked at online.

"I'm not hiding just because someone sent me some creepy letters and a vase of flowers."

"You'd rather be stupid instead and parade around in front of somebody that could be gunning for you?"

Ichigo stalked over to his closet and yanked out some clean clothes without saying anything. His temper was suddenly spiking and the next thing out of his mouth would only make things worse. It took some serious self control to ignore the heat building inside him that had nothing to do with arousal. His emotions were starting to roil uncomfortably and he really wasn't in the mood for a fight right now. But before he could storm out the door, Grimmjow was up off the bed and catching hold of his wrist so he could pull him back.

"Look, we're not done talking-" Grimmjow broke off suddenly when Ichigo's eyes flicked dangerously from Grimmjow's hand to his face. There was a hot fury in his gaze that was startling.

"Let. Go." The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

Grimmjow carefully released him, spreading his fingers and taking a step back. But he took a risk and placed himself in the doorway to keep him from leaving. "Be angry with me if you want to," Grimmjow said calmly even though his own temper was flaring. "But I want you take this seriously."

"You think I can't take care of myself?" Ichigo spat. "You think I need you to _protect _me? I hate to break it to you Grimmjow but I've been taking care of myself for a long freaking time. Every damned day of my life, I had to defend myself from idiots that came up with excuses to gang up on me. Fists, rocks, tasers, knives. It was all fair game to them. The only reason I survived school is because I fought back and made them realize what a bad idea it is to fuck with me. One deluded fan is not a problem."

Grimmjow blinked at him in surprise before his eyes flicked to Ichigo's left side. The scar was hidden under his shirt but he knew it ran up the redhead's ribs from his side almost all the way to his sternum. Since Searchlight managed to feature Cole with his shirt off as often as the producers could feasibly get away with, it had been written into the character's back story. But when Grimmjow has asked Ichigo about it the first time, all he'd gotten was an evasive answer. It hadn't been all that important at the time so he'd left it alone. But now he had to wonder. Grimmjow knew from past discussions that Ichigo got into a lot of fights as a kid. It was one of the things they had in common. But he'd never realized how serious it had gotten for him.

Ichigo caught him looking at the scar and huffed softly. "Yeah. That's how I got that one."

They stared at each other quietly for several moments before either of them moved. Then Ichigo closed his eyes as Grimmjow's hand came to rest gently over the scar. The heat from his fingers soaked through the fabric of Ichigo's shirt, making a connection that he'd started to forget in the heat of his anger.

"Look, I don't want to fight anymore." Ichigo's voice was extremely quiet. "But I need to go out for a little bit. Every time I stay safely inside, it will get a little harder to leave until I've trapped myself with my own fear." He opened his eyes to see Grimmjow watching him. "Do you understand?"

Grimmjow sighed heavily. "Not completely. But I think I get it." Or he thought he did. Ichigo sounded like he was speaking from some painful experiences that didn't necessarily have anything to do with a stalker. "Just. . .be careful, okay? There's some seriously crazy people out there."

The corner of Ichigo's lips twitched. Just a little. "Yeah, well. I deal with you on a daily basis so I've got some practice."

Grimmjow grinned. "I'm not crazy, just badass." It earned him a tired chuckle.

"I'm just going down to the corner store to pick up a few things and get some takeout." Ichigo held up his phone. "And my battery is totally charged."

A few innuendos popped into Grimmjow's mind but even though the tension had been relatively diffused, the timing didn't feel quite right. Instead, he stepped aside and sneered slightly. "Just don't get any of that vegetarian crap again."

"It was just once," Ichigo muttered as he shook his head and picked up the single shoe he'd kicked off earlier. "It wouldn't kill you to lower your cholesterol intake, you know."

"I am a happy carnivore," Grimmjow replied as he went over to pick up his pants. He watched Ichigo head into the other room to put on his shoes as he tugged his jeans on. He really hoped that the letters had just been from some harmless nut job. But Grimmjow had a bad feeling. He'd have to check on the security at the convention before they did anything. He wasn't taking any chances.

In the elevator, Ichigo quietly watched his dim reflection in the stainless steel wall of the compartment. He hadn't felt that kind of rage in a long time. It hadn't been that bad even when he and Grimmjow had started working together and they fought constantly. Maybe he was more on edge about this whole thing than he thought. He walked to the corner store without incident. This wasn't a really expensive neighborhood but Ichigo had always considered it relatively safe. He found himself brooding in the produce section so intently that when someone spoke behind him, he whirled and dropped the orange he'd been holding.

"Whoa. Somebody needs to switch to decaf." Shirosaki stood watching Ichigo with a strange expression on his face like he was amused but not quiet convinced that he wouldn't bite. He picked up the dropped orange and set it aside before selecting a less bruised one and held it out to Ichigo. "You okay?"

"Uh, sorry. Just a little jumpy, I guess." Ichigo took the orange gently and eyed the pale man curiously. "Why are you here?"

Shirosaki held up a basket filled with bags of chips and candy. "Munchie attack."

Ichigo winced at his own rudeness. It wasn't his business what he was doing here and he wasn't sure why he was asking. But he'd never seen him in the area before. "You live around here?"

"Naw. Just visiting." A smug grin stretched across Shirosaki's face. Thinking of how he'd been flirting at the restaurant, Ichigo could just guess what kind of visit it was. Not that that was any of his business either. Shirosaki didn't seem to mind. He tilted his head a little. "You look a little stressed. Wanna go for a beer or something? I'll buy. Got my first check from the studio today."

Ichigo blinked at the offer in mild surprise. "Um. Not tonight. But thanks, maybe some other time."

"Sure, no prob." Shirosaki seemed unfazed as he smiled at him. "Can't wait for tomorrow. Looking forward to kickin' your ass."

Ichigo blinked again and frowned before he remembered that they'd be working with Ikkaku on some fight scenes in the morning. "Sure, see you on the set," he muttered before heading over to the counter where his takeout order was waiting.

Shirosaki peered at him curiously as he followed him to the register. "You seem a little tweaked. You sure you don't need a drink?" But when the he eyed the size of the order, his grin returned. "Oh, never mind. You apparently already have company. Enjoy your night then." With that, Shirosaki paid for his things and headed out of the store while whistling something cheerful.

Ichigo stared after him and it took the cashier three tries to politely get his attention. Tearing his eyes away from the albino, Ichigo paid for his order and the groceries. There had been something extremely suggestive about the way he'd said that last part, like he'd known exactly who was waiting for Ichigo back at the apartment. But that was just way too paranoid. Shaking his head, he gathered up the bags and headed home.

When Ichigo got back to his apartment, the scent of soap tickled his nose and he could hear dishes clinking. Grimmjow was in the kitchen standing at the sink full of soapy water.

Ichigo's brows rose. "You're doing the dishes?" he asked with a pointed look at the dish washer that sat quiet and empty.

Grimmjow shrugged without looking up. "Needed something to do." Which was odd. Grimmjow hated washing anything and only did it when there was nothing else clean to use.

Ichigo set the bags down on the counter and sighed. "This whole stalker thing is really bugging you, isn't it? Or are you still wound up about you dad? He didn't call you or anything did he?"

"Yes, maybe, and no." Grimmjow rinsed the last dish and set it in the rack before draining the sink and wiping his hands. He stared at the dish towel and clenched it in his fingers as he struggled to find words. "We've argued before. And when we first met it was seriously dicey for a while. But we've never really fought before. Not like that."

Ichigo knew what he meant. They had fought and even been angry about it but it had always been relatively superficial stuff. There was an edgy ugliness to what had almost started in the bedroom earlier and it still lingered uncomfortably between them. Ichigo was a little surprised that Grimmjow was the one to step up and admit that something was seriously wrong first. He'd been prepared to not talk about it and have it hover in the background until one of them finally snapped.

"I know." Ichigo took the towel and hung it on the small towel rack in front of the sink so he could take Grimmjow's hands. "I'm sorry about earlier. I've got some issues. . ." He paused waiting for a sarcastic remark but didn't get one. Grimmjow was watching him patiently which was almost worse than having him get all irritated or or angry or smug. Ichigo took a deep breath. "But I'm not really sure how to talk about it."

"You don't have to." Grimmjow squeezed his hands as one corner of his mouth quirked up. "But my therapist used to say it's bad to keep stuff like that bottled up. It leads to aggressive emotional outbursts."

Ichigo's own mouth twitched in wry amusement. "Therapist?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I've got anger management issues. Had to take a class and go to a few sessions."

Ichigo couldn't let himself give in and say something sarcastic now. Not when Grimmjow was being so understanding. Instead he just waited with a small smile. He wasn't going to push either. After a few moments, Grimmjow squeezed his hands again let got to start pulling things out of the bags.

"It was expensive bullshit mostly but occasionally she said things that weren't completely stupid." He got bowls and chopsticks out and took them over to the living room so he could lay everything out on the coffee table. Ichigo felt strangely hesitant as he followed him and came to stand next to the couch.

"I don't like being protected," he said softly as he tried to keep the old pain and frustration from his voice.

Grimmjow glanced up, his expression still patient. "I figured that." He titled his head a little. "What the hell kind of schools did you go to anyway?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It wasn't the schools. It was the people in them. Mostly they tried to jump me on the street." He chuckled a little bitterly. "And then I'd get mouthy and things would go downhill from there."

Grimmjow's smile turned sly. "I like your mouth."

The comment earned him a smile and he relaxed a little bit. He'd spent the whole time Ichigo was out pacing the apartment until he'd finally made himself do dishes to keep himself busy. He was worried about the letters and quietly brooding about the aftermath of the fight. Grimmjow almost wished that they'd started swinging because it would be easier to handle and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked him.

Grimmjow sat poised on the couch with a box of takeout in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. He'd been staring blankly at the coffee table. Looking over, he saw the redhead sitting on the couch next to him with a worried expression on his face.

"Mostly." He took in a deep breath and blew it out. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little freaked out after all. I. . .I usually don't give a damn what happens to other people. You're the first one in a really long time."

Ichigo moved closer and leaned against him. The admission sounded raw and genuine. Ichigo had spent most of his life hiding his problems from everyone so he wouldn't worry them. His family didn't even know how bad it had gotten for while. He'd always been different. While he'd had close friends that were supportive, there had been many others who had hated how different he seemed. Growing up gay had been hard at the best of times and sometimes, the hate had gotten dangerous.

Isshin might have suspected something was up since some of the injuries had been severe enough to be hard to hide. But he'd never confronted Ichigo about any of it. He'd just supported him when he went away to college and then on to acting. Ichigo almost felt like he owed him an apology somehow. He thought he'd left all those memories and pains behind. If something like this happened at work and got in the way of his job, it could be a problem. Maybe But like he'd told Grimmjow, he wasn't quite sure how to talk about it. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and changed the subject.

"I saw Shirosaki earlier at the store. Felt kind of weird."

Grimmjow grunted in response but didn't say anything as he grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV.

"You got a problem with him already? I thought you were past all of that."

"Not a problem really. He just. . .I don't know. Rubs me the wrong way, I guess." Grimmjow's eyes flicked over to him. "And he really does look a lot like you. It's weird."

Ichigo thought about the strange golden eyes and shivered a little. "Yeah. It's weird." Shaking himself, Ichigo slouched into the couch. "Are we okay?"

Grimmjow snorted and shot him an intense look. "Of course we are. You piss me off but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up or anything."

"Just checking." Ichigo forced himself to relax. He was already being difficult about not going public with their relationship. He didn't want to make Grimmjow think it was all more trouble than it was worth. Letting his mouth quirk up in a small smirk, he prodded him with is elbow. "But I suppose I shouldn't worry," he said thoughtfully. "There aren't many people who put up with you when you're being an ass like I do."

Grimmjow shot him a baleful look over a mouthful noodles, daring him to go on.

Ichigo just grinned and shrugged. "I like your ass."

They both laughed.

. . . . . . .

The next morning, Ichigo was at the studio early. Grimmjow wasn't on call until later in the day and the only other people in the building were the stage manager who was always here this early and a couple of electricians who were arguing quietly about how to rewire and old console. Ichigo had been slacking on his workout routine lately and he'd come in to work through a few routines to get warmed up before working on the fight scenes for the finale. He stood barefoot on the practice mat in a pair of loose black pants and a white tank. He hadn't exactly slept terribly the night before but there had been enough dreams to make it less than restful. Cycling through the movements, he let the familiar glide of his muscles soothe his frazzled thoughts and frayed nerves.

"Woo." A smooth, impressed whistle rang in the space. "Somebody's some few moves."

Ichigo continued the last move and finished without looking at the newcomer before he relaxed and finally turned to see Shirosaki come out from behind the corner of nearby set piece. He was wearing a pair of white jeans, white kicks, and a pale grey hoodie. Ichigo shrugged dismissively. "I've had a few classes."

The albino was grinning at him. "Should I be worried?"

"Have you ever done any stunt fighting?" Ichigo asked him, once again wondering how he'd managed to get the job in the first place.

"Nah. The whole TV thing is totally new." Shirosaki rolled his neck, popping the joints casually as he linked his fingers and stretched his arms out in front of him. "But I can scrap like a bastard."

Ichigo watched him go through a few stretches and noted how light was on his feet. He shifted his balance in an easy, practiced way that looked almost instinctive. Ichigo had seen him mostly undressed before and knew there wasn't an extra ounce on him. Training or not, he looked like he'd be hell in a fight. But that might not be all that helpful here. He shook his head.

"Stunt work isn't the same as fighting for real. It's completely different."

Shiro grinned again. "Yeah, I know. I'm not really supposed to put the beat down on ya."

Before Ichigo could reply, they were interrupted by the flapping sound of Ikkaku's flip-flops. The bald man came around the corner, eying them both speculatively before his eyes settled on Shirosaki and narrowed dangerously.

"Don't you freaking forget the difference or I'll wipe the floor with you, Newbie."

"Aye, aye, captain." Shirosaki saluted him solemnly, the effect marred slightly by the smirk pulling at his lips. Ikkaku snorted. "Just what we need, another smartass." He shrugged as he tossed the wooden practice blade he habitually carried down on top of his duffle bag. "I suppose it couldn't be much worse than Kurosaki and Jaegerjaques back in season one."

"For real?" Shirosaki's pale brows went up. "I thought that was just publicity bullshit."

"Are you kidding?" Ikkaku's brows rose dramatically. "During episode eight when Dante was possessed, they practically tried to kill each other."

Ichigo grunted noncommittally, not wanting to talk about it. He'd almost forgotten about the incident entirely. He and Grimmjow had gotten into an argument earlier that week about something stupid and filming the fight scene had gotten a little out of hand. By the time Ikkaku and Iba had finally pulled them apart, Ichigo had a sprained wrist and a bloody lip. Grimmjow was suffering from a mild concussion and enough bruises to make him sore for more than a week. But despite how bad it had been at the time, Ichigo found himself smiling now.

"That episode was _awesome_. You guys were totally waling on each other." Shirosaki chuckled. "So it's true that you and Grimmjow had some serious hate on when the show started."

"Like a couple of pissed off cats," Ikkaku muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Ichigo shot him a flat look before turning back to Shirosaki and shrugging again. "Yeah, it was pretty bad for a while."

"You guys seem to have gotten over it though. I mean, your acting is pretty good, but you guys aren't _that_ good. No offense or anything," Shirosaki said as Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "But Dante and Cole get along way too well on screen for you guys to still be harboring that much angst off camera."

"True enough," Ichigo admitted. "Ultimately, it wasn't worth it. We decided to be more professional about working together."

Shirosaki eyed him speculatively for a moment. "Riiight," he said quietly.

Ichigo kept his expression as neutral as he could manage as he went to pull out the blocking notes Ikkaku had given him for the scene. If the albino was trying unnerve him, it was working but he wasn't going to let him know that.

"Dude," Shirosaki said, through a cackling laugh. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ichigo turned to see Ikkaku tiptoeing across the mat doing his "Lucky Dance" and couldn't help smiling a little himself. The stunt coordinator was weirdly superstitious and never stepped on the mat before completing the ritual. Ichigo had thought it was weird at first too but now it just managed to make him laugh every time.

"Laugh if you want to," Ikkaku said with haughty expression as he finished with a flourish. "But the one time I didn't do it, Blue and Strawberry made our insurance rates go up."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" Ichigo huffed, more irritated by the nickname than being blamed for the rise in production expenses.

"Stupid censors keep messing with my choreography because it's too dangerous. Crap like that gives them more reasons to bitch." Ikkaku clapped his hands. "Get your shit together, kids. The planning I've done for next season is some of my best work and it starts with the Season Three finale. If the two of you can manage pull all of it off, it will make episode eight look like a sissy slap fight."


	8. Chapter 8

Searchlight- 8

Adam pulled the curtain back to look out the window of the cheap motel room again. His long red hair hung loose down his back and he ran a hand through it irritably.

"I don't like this," he muttered.

"You don't have to like it," Dante huffed as he fought not to touch the bandages on his chest again. The mark burned like fire and his whole body thrummed with it every time his heart beat. He glanced toward the bathroom where he could hear the water still running. Cole had been half conscious when he'd dragged him out of the abandoned basement and brought him here. But when Dante tried to help him, the redhead had pushed him away almost angrily. In all honesty, he couldn't blame him but it didn't make it hurt any less.

Adam turned and sighed. "You've still got a couple of days of leave but I have to go in. There's no way I can just sit around here." His eyes flicked nervously to the bathroom door.

"Not until we figure things out."

"You think nobody called that in?" Adam said, exasperation bleeding into his voice. "The whole damned house caved in seconds after we got out. I've got to go to the captain and tell him-" He went rigid as Dante's fingers came to rest on the gun in the waistband of his pants.

"Tell him what?" Dante's tone was quiet and dangerous.

"Look. I don't know what the hell it was I saw." The memories alone were enough to make him twitch, not to mention the dead man that was currently taking a shower in the bathroom. But he wasn't going to back down. "You trust your captain, right?" he asked.

Dante's eyes narrowed. "Yeah." And he did, more so than any other superior he'd served under.

"Then let me go talk to him." Adam relaxed a little and let his lips curl in a challenging sneer. "Or would you rather I stayed to baby-sit while you go down to the station?"

Dante didn't want to admit that he was right. He was in way over his head and he wasn't sure he could get out on his own. Captain Wilson knew how to keep a secret. More than half of the cases they dealt will in the squad were full of fairy tale nightmares that would land them all in the loony bin or worse if they told the truth. The Captain knew how to sling the shit and write enough fiction into their reports to let their superiors relax and pretend none of the weirdness existed. Maybe he could help them out of this mess. Dante just wasn't sure. He hardly knew Adam at all but he felt like his back was against the wall.

"Alright." He said finally as he pulled his hand away from his weapon. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a disposable phone. "Use this and don't call my cell. I've been burned that way before."

Adam nodded and gave him on honest, appraising look. "I know you don't really know me. But I'll help you figure this out. I promise." And then he left, checking the parking lot for possible threats before moving into the open.

Dante nodded absently as he moved forward to the lock up behind him, his gaze settling on the bathroom door. The water had been shut off and when the door opened, a cloud of steam floated out to glide along the ceiling. Cole stepped out in the worn jeans and white t-shirt Dante had picked up at a nearby thrift shop. Judging by the reddened shade of his skin, the redhead must have scalded and scrubbed himself raw. But he looked relatively healthy considering that he'd been dead for a month. Cole looked a little lost as he glanced around the room and hugged himself, his hands rubbing up and down his arms.

"Cole, are you-" Dante stopped before he could ask him if he was okay for the fifth time.

"Where are we?" Cole's voice was a rough whisper.

"Motel by the I-5," Dante replied carefully. "Do you remember anything?" He wasn't even sure that Cole knew he'd been dead.

"The Chancelor case. All those ghosts." Cole shivered. "He was pressuring the mayor but he was lying. A rooftop. We were up on the roof of some building." The shiver turned into a shake and Cole's body started trembling harder as he clutched at the fabric over his heart. "He had a gun. He shot. . .I was. . .I was shot." His breath shuddered harshly in his throat. "I-"

Dante watched Cole's eyes widen suddenly as the whites were suddenly swallowed by inky shadows and the usually warm brown was engulfed by a harsh shade of gold.

"I died."

As Cole uttered the words, he sank into himself, drowning in golden shadows. The motel room faded away, leaving a cavernous blackness in its wake. Cole whirled around as he tried to get his bearings in the suddenly unfamiliar surroundings.

"Dante?"

A cold, discordant voice answered him. "He's not here. It's just you and me, King."

"W-what?" Cole stammered. There was something frighteningly familiar about that voice even if he couldn't remember why. He reached automatically for his weapon, but he was unarmed. He wasn't wearing anything except a pair of black jeans. Cursing, he stood straighter. "Who are you?" he shouted into the dark. He wouldn't show it fear, whatever it was.

There was a tsk-tsk sound from the shadows. "So much potential wasted. You don't even know what you've got going for you."

"What the hell are you talking about? Where are you?"

Cole didn't see the shadows parting behind him to reveal a pale figure that could have been his twin in another life. White hair and skin practically glowed and the stranger's golden eyes glinted with mischief and something darker. His colorless appearance was the exact opposite of Cole right down to a pair white jeans. Leaning forward, he whispered in Cole's ear.

"I'll take it from here."

Cole whirled around and lashed out in surprise, his voice rising in a wordless shout. The pale figure caught his wrist easily.

"You can't beat me, King." Yanking Cole close against his body, he practically purred. "And I'm going to take your throne."

"Like hell you are," Cole spat angrily. He had no idea what this thing was talking about but he wasn't about to lose. Twisting free, he kicked out at his double and caught him in the chest. Golden eyes widened in surprise as he stumbled back a couple of steps before they narrowed again in challenge.

"I can't really afford to damage you." Pale lips twisted in a dark expression. "Well, not too much anyway." He shifted and suddenly appeared at Cole's side, his fist slamming into the redhead's jaw. The hit had been hard but not unbearable. Cole reeled back and covered his face with his hands to make his opponent believe he'd been overwhelmed. When his double got close enough, he moved forward in a darting movement and kicked him again.

"Ooo. I knew I liked you for a reason." The pale man cackled, his laugh a warbling distortion that made Cole wince. But the double's expression became serious. "But I really don't have time to play." He dodged another kick and flung his hand out in the air.

Cole was suddenly knocked onto his back and he could feel the press of something invisible holding him down. He couldn't break free no matter how much he struggled where he lay on the floor.

"Naptime," the pale man murmured softly as he clenched his fingers.

Cole's eyes fluttered and he groaned as he felt consciousness escaping him. "No. . ."

"That's it," the pale man crooned. "Just go to sleep." There was another discordant giggle. "I'll tell your partner you said hi."

Cole let out a shuddering sigh as his eyes finally closed. "Dante. . ."

In the motel room, Dante watched in panic as Cole collapsed.

"Cole!" He leapt forward to catch him before he hit the carpet. The redhead's eyes were closed but moving beneath his lids, the movements frantic. "Cole. C'mon, c'mon. Don't do this to me." Dante shook him, terrified that he'd gotten him back just to watch him die in his arms all over again.

Cole took a deep breath before letting it out in a long sigh.

"Dammit, Cole," Dante whispered, hating the desperation in his voice. "You're scaring the hell out of me. . ." He trailed off as the redhead's eyes fluttered open. The inky shadows and golden pupils looked so alien and terrifying in a way Dante couldn't quite grasp. "Cole. . ?"

The leering grin Cole gave him was an expression his partner had never worn before. "Wrong answer, sweetheart."

Dante was flung across the room where he crashed down onto the cheap table that immediately splintered and collapsed under the impact. The landing stunned him and stars burst in his vision. Cole immediately landed on top of him, pinning his body to the floor.

"Cole-" A vicious slap snapped Dante's head to the side.

"I told you," said a warbling, discordant voice. "I'm not Cole." There was another giggle. "But he's safe enough. For now."

An image of Cole appeared in Dante's vision. The redhead was on his knees in the darkness, his arms spread wide above him where trailing red ribbons coiled around his wrists and held him half suspended. His head hung forward so Dante Couldn't see his face.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Dante hissed as the image faded.

"You should be more worried about yourself-" The creature wearing Cole's body suddenly hissed and recoiled as Dante's pendant fell free of his shirt and started to glow. It snarled something incoherent, it's face twisting in rage as it leapt up and crashed out the window. Dante's head was still ringing from the blow but he managed to stumble to his feet. Cole, or whatever had stolen his body, was already gone as he leaned drunkenly against the wall by the broken window.

"Cole. . ." His pained whisper was barely audible.

Dante fingered the pendant and eyed it in surprise as the glow slowly faded away. It was a simple medallion hanging from a silver chain that had been stamped with an ancient symbol for unity. Cole had given it to him about a year ago. They'd just survived one of their toughest cases and it had nearly driven apart for good. But by the end, they had finally begun to understand that neither of them could do this job alone. They were at their best when they worked together.

Dante clenched his fingers around the pendant. It was a twin to the one that Cole had always worn. That one was currently sitting on Dante's bedroom dresser because he couldn't bear to let his partner be buried with it. He stared out the broken window.

"I will find you," Dante swore to the darkness.

"Annnnd, Cut." Urahara was excited enough to head straight for the monitors to see the playback without making his usual comments.

Grimmjow sighed and tried not to frown. He hated it when his character got kicked around so easily.

"Awww, don't pout, Grimmie. This was just the first fifteen minutes of the episode. There's more ass kickin' on the way."

Grimmjow glared over at Shirosaki where he was lounging in a nearby chair. "Don't call me that."

"Get a grip Grimm," Ichigo said as he came back over toward the motel room set. He was brushing stray bits of candy glass off his shirt from where the trick window had broken. "You've been called worse."

"Don't start-" Grimmjow's head jerked back as Ichigo met his gaze. "Take those damn things out," he snapped at him. The black and gold was disturbing enough on Shirosaki. Seeing Ichigo wearing those contact lenses was just wrong.

"What?" Ichigo glanced in a nearby mirror and nearly jumped as badly as Grimmjow had. "Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting and scaring the crap out of myself," he muttered before shaking himself and looking away. "Have to keep them in for now. There's still close-ups and reaction shots to do and they're a pain to put in."

Grimmjow rolled his left shoulder and looked down at the breakaway table. The fall had gone well, but a piece of wood had been digging into his arm during the last part of the scene. There were a few more fight scenes to go and the last thing he needed was another bruise. He wandered over to Urahara who was watching one of the small screens intently. "Do we have to do it again?"

"Hmm?" The director looked up, his expression distracted. "No, no. This is good. Better than expected really so we'll be resetting the squad room for this afternoon." He grinned at Grimmjow. "You might even get out of here on time today."

Grimmjow eyed him warily before heading over to his chair just as his cell phone started buzzing quietly. "What the hell do you want now, Gin?" he muttered before answering, hit tone flat. "_What_?"

"You know, that's why I work so hard for you Grimmjow. The love is just so overwhelming," came the sweet reply from the man on the other end of the line.

"We're filming. You get me busted for not turning off my cell on the set again, it'll get ugly." As it was, he was keeping his voice pretty low just in case.

"Hmm," Gin hummed thoughtfully. "You know, you might just avoid that by, I don't know, turning it off maybe?"

"Was there a reason you called me or are you just trying be annoying?" Gin had been Grimmjow's agent from the very beginning of his career and he was a pain in the ass half the time. But he'd managed to get him some roles he'd never have been considered for otherwise so he'd stuck with him.

Gin took no offense to the gruff tone and he let out a laugh. "A little birdie told me there's some trouble over in the land of _Lumeria_. Seems to me that they're in need of another Captain of the Guard."

Grimmjow took a soft breath and held it for a moment while he focused on maintaining his composure. Letting the other man know how much he wanted the part would just give Gin an opening to give him a hard time. The draft of the script he'd read had been passable at first glance but it really wasn't all that impressive. But somewhere along the line while he'd been auditioning for the film, they'd managed to get Unohana Retsu to direct. Whatever she touched turned into pure gold. It could be a scribble of dialogue on a napkin and she'd still manage to somehow turn it into an epic. Cool and confident, Unohana was one of the few people that had ever seriously intimidated Grimmjow.

"Is that so?" he said casually.

"I know you want it, Grimm."

So much for playing it cool. From what Grimmjow had heard through the rumor mill, Unohana had wanted him from the beginning and he was supposed to have gotten the part. But internal politics and a standing studio contract with someone else had cheated him out of the role. It had gone to Kugo Ginjo, much to his annoyance. The man had managed to charm his way into several roles he didn't deserve even though he couldn't act his way out of a paper bag.

Grimmjow wondered what the idiot had done to get himself tossed out this time. It had to have been pretty bad. His temper was pretty fearsome but he was usually way too calculating to let it slip on something like this. Not that it mattered. Whatever it was, the studio execs were probably kicking themselves and that was fine with him.

"And how sorry are they for not casting me in the first place?" Grimmjow asked as a smug smile pulled at his lips.

"The studio said five percent but I believe I can convince them that they're at least ten percent sorrier," Gin said, the grin obvious in his voice. "And if you tell me '_you'll think about it_,' I'm coming down there."

"Just tell me where to sign." Grimmjow liked playing hard to get but there was no reason to throw this away, especially since it had already slipped through his fingers once.

Gin laughed. "That's what I thought. Come by the office after you're done for the day and we'll make it official. And while we're at it, what about that other thing?"

Grimmjow frowned. "I really will have to think about that one. It just showed up today and I haven't had a chance to look at it. I'm not endorsing crap I can't stand."

"Fair enough. Think you'll have made up your mind by tomorrow?"

Grimmjow's eyes flicked across the space to where Ichigo was perched on a chair reading a copy of the script and munching on an apple from the craft service table. "Maybe. I'll let you know."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the production assistant approach and politely try to get his attention. He looked new. Ignoring him, Grimmjow started counting to see how long it would take him to give up. "So, Gin. Does Shiba have any openings? I could use a refresher."

"You always take care of your own scheduling," Gin mused thoughtfully. "Who's trying to get your attention? Or maybe I should ask who it is you're ignoring," he said, his tone amused.

Grimmjow let his expression show as much innocence as he could manage. "What? It's a valid question. I haven't been on a horse in almost two years and I'd like to avoid looking like an idiot."

Gin laughed again. "I bet it's a production assistant. You're so mean to them, it's a wonder I can get you any work at all."

"I consider myself a crash course for the industry. It weeds out the weak. If they can handle me, they'll be able to deal with just about anything."

Something cool and wet suddenly hit Grimmjow's temple, making him whip his head around and snarl instinctively. But the flare of temper quickly faded into mild irritation. There was an apple core on the ground at his feet and Ichigo was staring at him intently. When the redhead saw he had his attention, he nodded pointedly to the assistant who looked a little terrified like he wanted to run but was afraid to draw their attention. A couple of years ago, he would have been right to be scared. As it was Grimmjow merely narrowed his eyes at Ichigo who just gave him a flat look in return.

"If you could tear yourself away Grimmjow, there's this new thing the rest of us are participating in. It's called work. Maybe you've heard of it," Ichigo said dryly.

"So says the one sitting on his ass doing nothing."

Ichigo sat back and clasped his hands over his middle. "Hey, it's not my close-ups they need to work on," he said, his tone smug as he nodded at the set. There were several people looking in their direction.

Grimmjow sneered and took his time ending the call with Gin who was hooting with laugher on the other end of the line. He must have had the volume turned up to hear all of that. Grimmjow continued to ignore the production assistant who still stood frozen in place but Ichigo took pity on him. With a wink and a smile, tossed the young man the leather jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair.

"Would you do me a favor and take that to Ulquiorra for me, Hanataro? There's a small tear in the seam and I need it for this afternoon."

Hanataro nodded gratefully and fled.

As Grimmjow stalked back toward the set and the techs who were waiting for him, he chuckled. "You're such a sucker."

"No, it's just that being a bastard isn't a hobby for me." The quirk of Ichigo's lips made the insult a little less biting and Grimmjow laughed.

. . . . . . .

Later that evening when the filming had ended for the day, Ichigo was wondering who Grimmjow had been talking to on the phone. His voice had been low and the noise from the set had been too loud to hear. Despite how much of an ass he'd been before going back to work, Grimmjow had been really happy there for a minute. He'd covered it pretty well but the surprised smile that had bloomed on his face had been genuine.

Grimmjow had already left the set by the time Ichigo was finally finished for the day. Instead of going home, he stopped in Grimmjow's apartment first and let himself in. They'd long since traded keys. Night had fallen outside and the lights were on in the living room casting soft shadows on the slightly shabby but comfortable furniture.

"Grimm?"

"Hey, I'm in the bedroom," Grimmjow called from the other room. "How do you feel about dinner tonight?"

"Eating out or ordering in?" Ichigo asked as he toed off his shoes and draped his jacket over the back of a chair. They'd been having a lot of takeout lately and they should probably just stay in so he could cook something.

"It's up to you," Grimmjow said as he came down the bedroom hallway texting on his phone.

Ichigo took the time to admire the casual grace of his walk as he padded across the floor toward him. Then his nose twitched as he noticed a new scent in the room. Grimmjow wasn't looking at him but he could swear the other man was watching his reaction carefully. When he got close enough, Ichigo breathed in as subtly as he could. There was a warm, masculine scent that had almost primal undertones. It sent a small shiver through him and desire quickly won out over curiosity as he closed the distance and pressed himself into Grimmjow. Ichigo turned his face and nuzzled his favorite spot just under the other man's jaw.

"Oh my god, you smell good." he murmured, giving up on being subtle and inhaling deeply. The new cologne Grimmjow had put on blended with his own natural scent somehow and almost seemed to enhance it. The shiver sliding deliciously down Ichigo's spine had him pressing closer. It was almost like when the scent of his favorite food made his mouth water except this had nothing to do with that kind of hunger. "What are you wearing?"

Instead of answering, Grimmjow made a call on his phone. "Hey, Gin. About that other thing. Yeah, it's definitely a go," he said with a satisfied smile. Tossing the phone onto a nearby shelf, he wrapped his arms around Ichigo who was having a hard time keeping himself from stripping him right then and there. Grimmjow chuckled, obviously noticing his dilemma as he leaned in to kiss him.

When they came up for air, Ichigo swallowed hard. "Whatever it is, you are _so_ not allowed to wear it to work," he said breathlessly. "I'd never get anything done."

"It's a new label and they were shopping for a

spokesmodel."

"Thought you were too good for commercials."

Grimmjow shrugged. "They made a really good offer. But I told them I wouldn't do it unless I got a sample first." He grinned down at Ichigo. "It's called Pantera."

"Hmmm," Ichigo hummed appreciatively as he inhaled again and thought of sinuous jungle cats stalking their prey. "It's like they bottled you."

Shifting his hips forward, he rocked against Grimmjow's thigh. Ichigo crowded him a little and forced him back a few steps until the back of Grimmjow's legs hit the arm of the couch. With a possesive little growl, the redhead pushed him so he ended up sprawled back on the cushions. Grimmjow's brows rose slightly as Ichigo crawled after him and straddled his hips.

Grimmjow groaned as Ichigo leaned down and attacked his neck, nipping and licking with teeth and tongue. But when he slid his hands up the redhead's back, Ichigo caught his wrists and raised his arms up to pin them to the cushions above his head. Grimmjow bucked his hips up, not at all bothered by Ichigo taking the lead. It didn't happen often but he liked seeing those rare moments of intimate aggression. And it was an interesting and rather arousing change of pace. When Ichigo pulled back to look at him, the golden flecks in his warm, brown eyes smoldered. There was a fire in him that burned steady and bright and Grimmjow found himself being drawn in.

Heat was pooling in all the right places and his body was on fire. He clenched his fingers and twisted a little on the couch as he tested the younger man's grip. Ichigo's lips curved in a deliciously wicked smile as he squeezed Grimmjow's wrists and braced one foot on the floor to use the leverage to keep him pinned.

"Not this time," murmured as he nibbled at his lips and shifted his hips where he sat. Ichigo's breath was a warm whisper against Grimmjow's mouth as he spoke. "I've got you right where I want you."

Grimmjow growled low in his throat in both acknowledgement and challenge. Right now his body was telling him it wasn't such a bad thing to be caught. He'd been mostly joking when he offered to let Ichigo tie him up but he was seriously reconsidering the idea.

Grimmjow had always had a dominant personality which was part of why the two of them had clashed so much in the beginning. Ichigo was no pushover and refused to give in to him like most other people did. At first, it had seriously pissed him off but Grimmjow had come to respect Ichigo's strength, his passion, his drive. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to submit to anyone else.

Ichigo squeezed his hands again and pressed Grimmjow's arms into the couch, silently telling him to stay put before letting go. He worked Grimmjow's shirt up his body and pulled it over his head before knotting it around his wrists and loosely binding his hands. Ichigo sat back and kept his eyes on him as if looking for some sign that he should stop. Arching his back and exhaling slowly, Grimmjow tilted his head and bared his throat, offering himself to whatever he wanted to do to him. There was a soft shuddering sound from the redhead above him and Grimmjow had to swallow. If he got any harder, it was going to hurt.

Ichigo was practically shaking where he sat perched on top of him. Leaning in, he licked a long trail up the exposed flesh of Grimmjow's neck before scraping his teeth lightly over his adam's apple. Grimmjow couldn't suppress the moan that rumbled in his throat. He shifted, his body flexing as Ichigo moved back and unhooked his belt so he could pull down his jeans. Grimmjow almost growled again as the redhead got up off the couch completely without finishing what he'd started. He was left laying mostly undressed with his hands bound and his pants tangled around his knees where they were propped up on the arm of the couch.

Ichigo stood staring down at him, his pupils large and dark as his eyes raked greedily over Grimmjow's body. Grimmjow wasn't going to beg but he felt his hips rising almost unconsciously as the cool air ghosted over his exposed flesh. He wanted to be touched. Ichigo's lips twitched in a small smile as he undressed. Slowly. Grimmjow's fingers clenched into fists and he licked his lips as he watched the redhead pull the shirt up, exposing his torso one agonizing inch at a time. When the garment was discarded, his cheeks were flushed and his lips slightly parted. Grimmjow's gazed locked on his mouth as the tip of Ichigo's tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip.

Ichigo's pants were next. Grimmjow had to fight to keep himself laying on the couch as he watched and the strain of it tightened his whole body while his breathing became deep and heavy. Ichigo's smile widened as he unbuckled his belt and started to slowly shimmy out of his jeans. They were so tight, he practically had to peel them off. When he was completely nude, he didn't come back over immediately. His hands began to roam his own body, sliding up his thighs and hips, over his abdomen and up his chest. Grimmjow was riveted to the sight, his fingers flexing as if he were the one touching him. His hands knew that body as intimately as his own and the tactile memories reverberated through him.

Only when he was nearly reduced to panting did Ichigo finally come closer. He settled on his knees next to the couch with one hand splayed over Grimmjow's abdomen as the other cupped him gently. Grimmjow blew out a huffing breath as the gentle touch sent shockwaves through his body. He was so worked up that he let out a strangled cry as Ichigo's mouth closed over him. Hot and wet, he swirled his tongue while the thumb of the hand on Grimmjow's abdomen made small circles around his belly button. The rough, calloused pad distracted Grimmjow as his suddenly sensitized skin reacted. Ichigo's other hand squeezed gently.

Grimmjow was losing his mind. He twisted his hands in the knotted shirt and felt the press the fabric holding his knees together. The steady pressure of Ichigo's hand on his stomach kept him from pushing up and bucking wildly into his mouth. The sudden suction made his eyes roll as his breaths came in ragged pants. With an inarticulate growl, he body went rigid as he came.

Grimmjow was a shuddering mess as he relaxed bonelessly into the cushions and he barely registered the breathy groan from that came from Ichigo as he finished himself and slumped down to the floor. When Grimmjow's vision cleared, he could see him curled up next to the couch, his face relaxed and pleased. Working his hands out of the loosely knotted shirt, he reached down and smoothed a hand over the orange spikes.

"I'm gonna have them send me a whole case of that shit," he said, his voice tired but satisfied.


	9. Chapter 9

Searchlight- 9

Ichigo and Grimmjow sat fully dressed on the couch eating the delivery that had just arrived while a soccer game played on the television. Ichigo had insisted on salads and then rolled his eyes dramatically when Grimmjow got one with more than three kinds of meat in it. The redhead eyed the plate in the other man's hands. I looked like a fully stocked refrigerator had exploded on it.

"You know, all of that extra stuff kind of defeats the purpose of getting a salad in the first place," he said as he forked up a bite of vegetables from his own.

"Need the protein," Grimmjow replied offhandedly between bites.

"Which is covered by the chicken and cheese. The bacon, teriyaki pork, and turkey seem to be a little overkill." Ichigo leaned forward a little. "And what are those little black things?"

"Chopped olives." Grimmjow laughed when Ichigo wrinkled his nose. "Hey, they're a vegetable."

"I'm pretty sure all the vegetables on your plate died a violent death from a coronary and were buried at sea in a puddle of dressing."

"The more it looks like garbage, the better it tastes." Grimmjow held out a bite on his fork. Ichigo looked at it dubiously for a moment before he saw the challenging smirk on the other man's face. Taking the offered bite, he tried to control his look of surprise. It was a little overwhelming with the broad mix of flavors and it had a bite of spice in it somewhere. But it definitely tasted better than it looked.

"Alright, not bad." Taking a sip of his tea to cleanse his palate, he dug back into his greens before he was tempted to have more. "So what was that call about earlier today?"

"It was between shots and I wasn't really holding anything up _that_ much," Grimmjow said a little defensively.

Ichigo snorted. "And you wouldn't have cared much about it if you did. That's not what I mean."

"Good thing. I'm not about to sit through the professionalism speech again," Grimmjow muttered as he cleaned the rest of his plate.

Choosing to ignore that last remark, Ichigo picked up the dishes and headed into the kitchen. "It's not a big deal or anything, I was just wondering. You looked really happy for a minute is all."

Grimmjow sighed and followed him. He hadn't really intended to get all defensive. He'd spent most of the afternoon worrying that something had changed or that it had just been a joke and he hadn't really gotten the part. Sitting on a stool at the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, he watched Ichigo rinse off the plate and put them in the dishwasher. "I got Captain Nicholas," he said after a moment of quiet.

"Really?" Ichigo asked, in genuine surprise. "I thought they cast Ginjo."

Grimmjow felt that smug grin return. "They did. Dumbass got himself tossed, so I'm in."

"Gin didn't make them beg or anything did he?" Ichigo said as he tried to smother a smile. No wonder Grimmjow had been smiling like that earlier. Missing out on the role had been incredibly disappointing even though he'd tried to hide it. Ichigo came around the counter and kissed him soundly as he let the lingering scent of that fabulous cologne surround him. "Did they apologize at least. It should have been yours from the beginning."

"I got a salary boost. But working with Unohana is what I really wanted. And it'll be fun. Riding, fencing, jousting. Where else can I get paid to do cool shit like that?"

Ichigo sighed happily. "Hmmm. Horses and leather. Very hot."

Grimmjow smiled. "And a really big sword," he said as he hooked an arm around Ichigo's waist to pull him closer as he nibbled at his neck. The redhead chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. After a moment, Grimmjow pulled back, his expression a little more serious. "I'll be in Poland for six weeks."

"I've heard it's gorgeous there," Ichigo said as he felt a slight pang of dissapointment. Since they'd started dating, they hadn't been apart very often or for long stretches of time. Usually, it was just a week, maybe three depending on where their roles required them to travel. He saw Grimmjow's face and narrowed his eyes. "What's that look for?"

"You're gonna get pissed if I tell you." Grimmjow's arm remained relaxed around Ichigo's waist like he was trying very hard not to have a repeat of what had almost happened before. But he wasn't letting go.

Ichigo took a deep, calming breath. "I'm going to be working most of the time so it's not like I won't be busy. I've got a guest spots on some summer filler shows and a couple of cable movies."

"Keeping yourself occupied isn't what I'm worried about."

Ichigo felt his body tense even though he tried to stay relatively relaxed. But he didn't move away. "I know what you're worried about. My feelings on that haven't changed." He watched Grimmjow's face, searching for what he might be thinking besides irrational worry. "It's important to me. That you care. But don't get carried away."

"Just promise me you'll be cautious." Grimmjow's reply was almost painfully careful.

"It's not like I'm going to post my address on my social page or anything. I'm not completely stupid." Ichigo was glaring at him now but there wasn't much heat in the expression. "And besides, do you honestly think my friends are going to leave me alone while you're gone. Tatsuki's coming back from her national tournament tour in a couple of weeks and Renji's been asking me to hang out for a while. I won't be sitting around by myself all the time." He let a small smile play on his lips. "Honestly Jaegerjaques. My universe does not completely revolve around you."

They stared at each other for several quiet minutes as they thought about their worries and where the conversation might go from there. Grimmjow's expression became almost thoughtful.

"So you won't mind that I'll be spending a few weeks in Poland getting it on with the female lead in _Lumeria_?"

Oddly enough, the statement made Ichigo relax. Halibel was a gorgeous blonde with ample curves and legs up to her neck. But he wasn't worried. Grimmjow's tone was light and teasing, a perfect counterpoint to Ichigo's last sarcastic statement. It wasn't going to get ugly. At least not tonight. Ichigo gave him a flat look.

"I've read the script. Princess Tricera kicks Nicholas's ass. Twice. And Halibel is totally married. Are you _sure_ you don't need the professionalism speech again?"

Grimmjow laughed and kissed him lightly. "I'll sit through the speech. But only if you give it to me naked."

Smiling, Ichigo stepped back out of his arms and pulled his shirt off. Dropping it casually on the floor he turned and started walking back toward the bedroom, shedding pieces of clothing along the way. He only paused once to give Grimmjow one last look over his shoulder. Not needing any more invitation than that, Grimmjow followed, shucking his own clothes as he went.

. . . . . . .

Three days later, Ichigo sat in Urahara's office, scanning some preliminary summaries for season four, his excitement growing. "I get to be the villain? Seriously? This is awesome. I thought it was just for the finale." He paused and frowned slightly. "I wonder what it says about me that I'm happy about that."

Urahara rocked slightly in his swiveling chair, his fan flapping steadily. "It just means that you're embracing the challenge of expanding your range. I'm very happy with how the episode has been going. You've been displaying a delightfully menacing satisfaction as Cole while he's possessed by the hollow."

"Hollow?" Ichigo had seen the name on the script before when Shirosaki started but it hadn't really been mentioned in the dialogue or back story yet.

"Hollow, as in the absence of life. But it's still mostly a concept at the moment. It will be explained with more detail next season."

"Does Ogichi mind that he hasn't had much screen time yet?" Aside from a couple of teaser scenes, the most he'd done so far was the brief fight sequence when Cole was overpowered. A muted, cackling laugh trailed in through the closed door. Speak of the devil.

Urahara smirked, his face mostly hidden by the shadow of his hat. "He seems to be enjoying himself on the set immensely. He's spending his spare time filling in for one of the carpenters that's on vacation this week. But there will be more for him to do in the second half of next season."

Ichigo sat back and waited but Urahara didn't elaborate. Probably so he could spring a bunch of plot twists on them as a surprise once they were in the middle of filming.

"Now give me those pages back and go get Hisagi. The two of you will be meeting our driver and heading out to location today."

Right, the driver. The car chase for this episode was a lot more complicated than any of the others they'd done before. In the scene, Shuuhei's character Martin catches up with the possessed Cole and chases him across town which ends up in a car crash. Ichigo wasn't really looking forward to that last part. Cole was supposed to come close to killing Martin before being chased off by Dante. Scenes with violent injuries were always harder for him than he liked, especially on this show. Ulquiorra was extremely good at his job and the injury makeup he did looked incredibly realistic up close. But he'd get past it. He always did.

Focusing, on the thought of driving for the camera, Ichigo left the office, sidestepping a bucket of paint and a tarp as he headed back out onto the main set. He'd heard that they'd done a lot of the second unit filming of the chase already and now they just needed close ups. But some of it would be done on a closed course to get some reaction shots at higher speeds.

Shirosaki hailed him from where he was perched on one of the desks in the squad room set. "Hey, Ichi. C'mere for a sec. Need you to settle something."

Ichigo nodded to Shuuhei who was sitting in the chair at Martin's desk twirling an unlit cigarette in his fingers and chewing a piece of gum. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "You're not stealing Akon's cigarettes again, are you? I thought you quit."

Shuuhei shrugged. "I did. But since he never will, it makes it difficult not to start up again." He blew a small, snapping bubble with the gum. "Haven't lit up in three weeks but it's really hard."

Ichigo plucked the cigarette out of his fingers as he walked by and flicked it into one of the prop waste bins nearby before leaning against Cole's desk. "It'll be easier without tempting yourself."

"Who's Akon?" Shirosaki asked them, his tone curious.

Shuuhei frowned in annoyance but it was hard to tell if it was from loss of his cigarette or the mention of the other man. "My brother. He works on the CG and special effects for the show. Works nights mostly in his techie lair down in the basement."

"Cool. Anyway," Shirosaki said, his attention suddenly fixed on Ichigo. He nodded to Shuuhei. "Did he really get mauled by a lemur?"

Ichigo looked at Shuuhei thoughtfully. "I thought it was an ocelot."

Shuuhei just sat silently with a quiet smile on his face. The scars had been a huge point of speculation back when they'd been filming season one. The guesses had gotten pretty wild and ridiculous, especially when the cast and crew had been out drinking. The pale indentations trailed all the way down the right side of Shuuhei's face from his hairline to his chin. But he'd never actually come out and said where he'd gotten them. Surprisingly, they didn't stop him from getting work. Neither did the sixty nine tattoo he had on his other cheek. He'd even done some modeling jobs for a few designers who weren't looking for perfection.

Shirosaki sat watching him with something that might have been admiration before it turned into a grin. "Whatever you say, man."

A loud voice interrupted them. "Are we going to get on the road or what? Time is money and I've got shit to do." The newcomer was easily over six feet tall, thin as a rail, and had a patch over his left eye.

Shirosaki's grin widened. "Well if it isn't Santa Teresa himself. How's it hanging, Nnoi?"

The man's single brow rose. "What are you doing here, Shiro?"

"_Ack_-ting," the pale man said, his voice ringing in an overly theatrical bellow. He threw an arm over his eyes dramatically and flopped back on the desk in a mock swoon. Ichigo and Shuuhei exchanged an amused glance but said nothing. Tilting his head to the side, Ichigo looked at the other man. "You haven't seen any of the teasers from the show?"

Straightening, Shirosaki grinned again and snorted. "Dude doesn't even have a TV. Spends all his time in the garage." He braced his hands on the edge of the desk and let his feet swing. "Wactha up to?"

"Driving," the tall man said simply as he turned to Ichigo and Shuuhei. "Kurosaki and Hisagi?"

Ichigo stuck out his hand. "Ichigo."

"Nnoitra," the taller man said as he shook, his wiry grip tight but not insultingly so.

"Call me Shuuhei," Hisagi said as he stood and traded grips with him. "Looking forward to working with you. I heard you're the best."

Nnoitra grinned a toothy smile. "Nothing wrong with your hearing then. You in, Shiro?"

"Not this time," Shirosaki said as he picked up the empty roller that sat on the desk next to him. The plastic handle was dry but hopelessly spattered with a decade's worth of colors. "Got an office to paint."

Ichigo glanced around the squad room and the small offices attached on one side. There was no painting gear anywhere to be seen. The redhead narrowed his eyes as he remembered the bucket he'd stepped around earlier. "Urahara isn't making you paint _his_ office, is he? I thought you were working with the carpenters on the set."

Shirosaki shrugged, unperturbed. "Hey, a buck's a buck. Trust me, I've done worse for a paycheck." He grinned again. "Besides, the old man's a total kook. I love it."

Ichigo couldn't argue with that one as he shook his head. One of the producers was waving at the them from the other side of the room so it was time to go. "We'll see you later then."

"Tomorrow morning definitely," Shiro said, his eyes gleaming as he waggled his eyebrows. "I've got another scene."

Ichigo didn't remember another scene with the hollow in it but before he could ask, he saw Nnoitra glance at his watch and then at the door, the movement jerky and just a little pissed off. He wasn't quite tapping his foot with impatience but it was a close thing. The last thing Ichigo wanted to do was alienate their stunt driver so he just waved and left. Nnoitra really was one of the best and he wanted to learn as much as he could while he had the chance.

. . . . . . .

Cole hung suspended in the shadows on his knees, his head drooping forward so his chin rested on his chest. The scarlet ribbons wrapped around his wrists had slithered down his arms and were slowly coiling around his torso. A pale figure was eyeing him cautiously, his golden eyes narrowed in thought. The hollow circled Cole slowly as he planned his next move. He'd spent the last few days taking his new body for a test drive and was relatively pleased with what he found. The redhead was leanly muscled, his reflexes quick and smooth to respond. But he was seriously lacking in the right kind of experience. And he'd never consciously used his powers before. That was proving to be a problem.

The hollow had been forced to recruit some hired talent to get things moving while he opened up the proper conduits for power in Cole's body. Several of the local practitioners had run at the sight of him. Cole and his partner had been making themselves known in the supernatural community even though they probably didn't know how much. It had taken some clever words and a painful example or two before anyone would hold still long enough to listen. The hollow only had a couple of takers but it was a start at least.

Cole stirred where he knelt, his shoulders flexing as he let out a soft moan. The hollow smirked. Time to get started. Moving up behind Cole, he slid his fingers through the spiky orange strands gently before clenching his fingers suddenly and jerking his head back. Cole gasped as his eyes opened wide.

"Wha-?"

The hollow leaned over him and cupped Cole's chin with his other hand. "Mornin' sunshine."

"Who are you?"

"Always with the questions," the hollow murmured, the distortion of his voice echoing in the darkness.

Cole jerked at the restraints but his movements were limited by the grip on his hair and chin. "Let me go."

"You know," the hollow said as he released his hold and strolled a few paces in front of him. "You're not really in the position to be making demands." He flicked his fingers at Cole and the ribbons yanked him roughly to his feet. The redhead grunted in pain as his arms were pulled high so his toes barely touched the floor. His wrists were brought together and wrapped tightly above his head.

The hollow disappeared and Cole glanced around as much as he was able. He jerked when the hollow appeared behind him and whispered in his ear.

"I'm curious."

"About what?" Cole angled his head away in a vain attempt to get some space between them.

"You could be so much more than you are. But you hold yourself back." There was an honest curiosity in the pale man's voice even if it was tinged with a hint of scorn. The hollow moved away again and began pacing around him slowly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, you don't. It's pretty pathetic," the hollow sneered, his golden eyes glinting. "You had your gifts practically handed to you and you've completely wasted them."

Cole's fear and frustration were momentarily pushed aside by his own curiosity. "Gifts?"

"The power you've literally held in your hand." The pale man raised a hand and clenched it into a fist in front of Cole's face. When he opened his fingers again, a lick of black flame danced in his palm. Cole's eyes widened.

"Hmmm," the hollow hummed thoughtfully. "So you _do_ remember."

It had been almost two years since Cole had seen the black flames and he wished he really had forgotten. He had no idea where they'd come from but when he and Dante had been backed into a corner by a gang of thugs, it had appeared and torn through them like paper. Almost as if by magic. Cole swallowed hard as images of that night ghosted over his vision. The flames had saved his life and his partner's but none of their attackers had survived. It didn't matter that he was pretty sure they weren't human. He'd just wanted to stop them but instead they'd been utterly destroyed.

There was a delighted smile on the pale man's face. "You keep fighting your instincts but they make you strong." He giggled, the discordant sound making Cole wince. The hollow let the flames dance across his fingers. "This is how I was sure you were the one." The laughter faded into a sigh. "And then that warlock wannabe nearly ruined everything."

Cole frowned. "Thorson was working for you?" Six months after the black flames had appeared, Cole had been caught by a group of fanatics and nearly been sacrificed to a demon. The scar on his chest suddenly throbbed at the memory.

The hollow reached out towards Cole's chest, the black flames flickering with a strange darkness. Cole tried to lean away from him and bit back a gasp of pain as the mark on his chest flared. Just before the pale fingers touched his skin, the flames died out.

"He was supposed to bring you to me, not cut your heart out." The hollow's hand was cold as his fingers traced the marking. "Idiot didn't even spell my name right."

Cole shivered under the touch, his breath shuddering in his throat. "D-don't touch me." He bit the words out between clenched teeth.

"But you're all mine now. I won't even need to waste time training you." The hollow smiled again and it wasn't a pleasant expression. "I'll just take what I want."

Cole's breath caught suddenly as the pain intensified. The other man's fingers started to sink into his chest and he let out a strangled scream. It was so cold it hurt and it felt like something deep inside of him was tearing. And then through the haze of pain, he heard Dante's voice.

"Cole. . ?"

The hollow jerked his hand back, snarling as a blue spark of light burst in the air between him and the redhead. "He can't possibly. . ."

The hollow closed his eyes and concentrated. Cole's physical body was safely hidden in an abandoned warehouse and surrounded by protective wards. The hollow had set up the protections so he wouldn't be bothered while he set his focus inward to speak with his host. If that blue haired irritation was nearby, he'd have to find a more secure location.

"Dante," Cole choked, his voice threaded with a painfully thin wisp of hope.

"Quiet." The hollow snapped his fingers and thick red ribbons wound around Cole's mouth, silencing him.

The hollow felt Dante's attention stir and waited several tense minutes until the other man gradually moved farther away. That was a little too close. Turning his attention back to Cole, the hollow narrowed his eyes. He didn't like how close Dante and Cole were. There was a bond there that was getting in the way. He needed to find a way to break it without ruining what he'd come here for. Cole was watching him warily his chest heaving.

"Don't worry," the hollow crooned as he moved closer. His hand slid down over Cole's ribs along the old knife wound, making the redhead tremble. "I'll make sure we have a little more privacy the next time." He rested his forehead against Cole's and cupped his cheek. "For now, dream of me."

Cole was transfixed on the golden eyes that were so close to his own. They seemed to be drawing him in an it started to make him dizzy. Then the hollow cackled, startling him out the daze as the other man faded into a wisp of fog and drifted away. Cole sagged in the bindings as soon as he was released as if he'd been held upright by the other's power. He needed to find a way to escape but his eyes started to drift closed. Cole let out a soft sigh as consciousness finally slipped from him.

"Cut." Urahara looked up from one of the monitors. "How are you feeling, Ichigo?"

Straightening, Ichigo took some the weight off his shoulders and gave Urahara a flat look. He didn't bother to mumble anything through the gag that was still wrapped around his mouth. The other man grinned beneath his hat and flipped his fan open.

"Oops, I forgot. Shiro, be a dear and release our hero, would you?"

Shirosaki giggled as he sauntered onto the set and reached up to pull the gag free before he started unwinding the red silk ribbons from the much sturdier leather cuffs that lay beneath. He eyed Ichigo with a grin. "They seem to write an awful lot of bondage into the show," he murmured.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's kind of a running joke now." When the cuffs were unlatched from the supporting chain, Shirosaki lowered Ichigo's arms slowly in what seemed like a practiced motion.

"You lose circulation anywhere?" he asked him.

Ichigo raised a brow. "Not much. Left fingers are tingling a little. You seem like you've had some practice with this kind of thing."

Humor and something a little darker glinted in Shiro's eyes. "Maybe."

Ichigo felt his face heat and he had to swallow. Movement caught his attention and he turned to cover the twinge of embarrassment, hoping that Shiro hadn't noticed. Ichigo saw Grimmjow glaring from the far corner of the studio. One of the production assistants came up to him but as soon as he caught sight of Grimmjow's expression, he turned abruptly and went back the way he came. Ichigo took a step back to put some space between himself and Shiro as he let an indifferent expression smooth his features. Rolling his shoulders, he worked some of the stiffness out of his muscles. Grimmjow already seemed to be having a problem with Shiro and there was no reason to antagonize him. He had a late call today and Ichigo had been hoping they were going to finish filming the last minute pages before he showed up. But of course he didn't have that kind of luck.

Shiro looked between the two of them and raised his brows. "What's he so pissed about?"

Ichigo shrugged and tried to be nonchalant even as he kept his voice relatively low. "We may get along better than we used to but the attitude hasn't changed much." When he looked up again, Grimmjow's attention was focused on Chojiro who had come up to talk to him, presumably about the scene they had later that afternoon. The older man had never been fazed by Grimmjow's temper.

"Everyone take a break for lunch and we'll get started again at one o'clock," Urahara said before he went to greet the pyro-technicians that had been brought in for one of the more elaborate budget busting stunts.

Shirosaki watched Ichigo carefully for a moment like he didn't quite buy his answer but he didn't push it as he wandered over to the craft service table. Urahara had brought in a catering company for the last week of filming and the long table had been decked out with a special spread. There were platters of hot and cold meat, veggie trays, fruit and cheese, and just about every soft drink known to man. A few caterers had been hovering all morning keeping things stocked and making sure there was enough ice. Following his stomach's lead, Ichigo followed Shiro to the food. He hadn't eaten since before he'd been strung up earlier that morning.


	10. Chapter 10

I opened up a new AO3 account where I've been posting some of the stories that I took down from here do to content issues. See my profile page for the link.

Searchlight- 10

Now that they'd been released temporarily for lunch, Ichigo was starving and he headed over to the craft service table with Shirosaki. A girl with dark purple hair smiled at them as they came over. The nametag on her uniform shirt read Cirucci.

"Would you like me to make you a sandwich?" she asked cheerfully.

Shirosaki grinned at her the same way he had to the girl at the restaurant. "You bet."

Her expression in return was almost bland in comparison but Shiro didn't seem offended as he ordered hot roast beef and swiss on wheat. Plate in hand, he headed over to the nearby tables and chairs where a few of the cast and crew were already eating. Cirucci brightened when Ichigo asked for turkey with tomatoes and lettuce. Her change in demeanor wasn't unusual really. Ichigo had long since grown used to girls getting a little flighty when he was around now that he knew what to look for. He'd spend most of his high school years oblivious to his friend Orihime's feelings. Tatsuki had to literally beat it into him before he really knew why she'd been all shy blushes and stuttering words. Now he just took it in stride for the most part.

"Can I get you anything else?" Cirucci asked him sweetly.

"No, thank you. This is good." He nodded his thanks and snagged a bottle of water and a small fruit cup before heading over to join the others.

Shiro was texting on his phone, his lips twitching.

Shuuhei leaned over his shoulder to read the screen and snorted. "You're never going to get him up here."

"Twenty bucks says I can," Shirosaki said with a grin.

"Get who up here?" Ichigo asked as he sat down across from them.

"The elusive Akon." Shiro said in a way that reminded Ichigo of a nature show host that was stalking some rare animal that refused to show itself to the camera. The pale man laughed at something he read and typed a few things in response. "I snuck down there the earlier today to see what he was doing."

"And yet you still breathe," Shuuhei said with sarcastic awe. He chuckled and settled back in his seat. "I suppose miracles can happen."

It was Shiro's turn to snort. "Dude gets a little cranky when he's interrupted. Used a couple of insults I actually had to look up."

"He's been down there for three days working on some of the post for the finale." Shuuhei shrugged. "You're just lucky he didn't booby trap the door this time."

Ichigo eyed Shiro. "Any reason you're risking life and limb to get him up here?"

"Heard he had horns and I wanna see." Shiro read the screen and pouted. "Man, he set his phone on auto reply. Now all I'm getting is an anatomically impossible suggestion of what to do with my dick."

"Hmm. Must be working on something hot," Shuuhei murmured. "Tell you what, you can come hang at my place this weekend and I'll play you that demo I was talking about earlier. He'll show up eventually."

"Sweet." Shiro grinned. "So Ichi, what are you up to when you're not playing eye candy on the set?"

Ichigo was in the middle of sipping his water and it suddenly tried to go down the wrong way. He immediately broke into a coughing fit and had to remind his body how to breathe again. A hard slap on the back nearly made him fall out of his chair.

"Get a grip, Kurosaki," Grimmjow growled at him before he settled at the next table.

Ichigo took in a breath and had to clear his throat before he could reply. "Gee, thanks. That was super helpful," he muttered in a tight wheeze.

"Just got your ass back on the show. Don't want to see you keel over and make them seriously shop for a replacement." Grimmjow was known for being a jerk but that was laying it on pretty thick. Ichigo tried not to meet his eyes so he could avoid giving him any meaningful looks. He took a careful drink of water to soothe his throat and ignored him.

"I'm actually pretty busy most of the time," he told Shiro. "When I'm not filming here, I'm usually doing guest spots and appearances on other shows."

"I don't mean that." Shiro waved a hand. "I mean, what do you do for fun? You can't work all the time."

"I don't know. My home life is pretty boring actually. I like to take time to relax when I'm by myself." Which sounded pretty lame even to him. He spent most of his free time with Grimmjow but they didn't go out much because Ichigo was so overly cautious about being seen. He realized, not for the first time, that there were a lot of things they were missing out on because he just couldn't let go.

"Thinking about relaxing shouldn't make you look so depressed," Shiro told him, his features shifting to mild concern.

"Sorry." Ichigo waved it away. He hadn't realized he'd let that much show on his face. "I've just been distracted lately." His phone buzzed suddenly and when he checked the display, he saw a text from Yuzu asking if he could talk. Gathering up his trash, he threw it away and headed for the door. "I'll see you guys in a little bit. I'm going to my trailer."

Ichigo left the soundstage without waiting for a reply. Yuzu didn't usually bother him while he was at work and he worried that there was a problem. He dialed her number and it rang enough times that he was afraid it would go to voicemail.

"Onii-chan," she said breathlessly when she answered.

"Is everything alright?"

"Sorry to bother you. I didn't even check the time before I hit the send button. I just wanted to check and see if you were still coming to dinner tomorrow night."

Relief flooded Ichigo and immediately eased his mind. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me." He checked the time himself and frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" She was studying nursing with a minor in medical administration. She'd always planned to help their father run the clinic when she got out of school.

"No, Mr. Lombardi threw his back out again and he won't be back until next week, so I've got some free time. Um, Ichigo?" Her tone became hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"I've seen some of the trailers for the new shows. Is that you? You know, with the white makeup and scary eyes? Are they contacts?"

Ichigo paused with his hand on the doorknob to his trailer and smiled. "No. Urahara just found somebody who looks a lot like me. And he's not all that scary in person." Just mildly unsettling, but Ichigo was starting to think that was mostly on purpose.

"I was just wondering. The show's getting kind of creepy again. I hope it doesn't last too long."

Ichigo had no idea how long this story line would go on. He wasn't looking forward to when his sister saw the episodes where he played the villain. "Don't worry. It won't be permanent."

"Okay. Remember to bring Grimmjow with you this weekend," she said cheerfully before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Ichigo shook his head and went inside. He froze immediately when he saw the vase of flowers sitting on the small table. There was another card with the message '_hang in there' _printed on it. He'd been busy enough these last two day that he'd almost forgotten about the stalker. Ichigo never bothered to lock the trailer because there was nothing particularly valuable in it and the back lot where it was parked was under lockdown. Nobody could get in without going through security or scaling the ten foot fence that surrounded the perimeter. But someone had still managed to get in and left the vase.

Ducking quickly back outside, he scanned to the lot to see if there was anyone around. But aside from a couple of electricians smoking in the distance next to the back door and a single production assistant hastily spray painting a door for the set, there was nobody in sight. Ichigo had to get rid of the vase before Grimmjow saw it. Things had been tense enough between them lately and this would just make it worse. Rushing back in and snatching the vase off the table, he made it all the way to the dumpster without running into anyone. But as drew back his arm to toss it in, Shiro came around the corner.

"Hey, Urahara is asking for you-"

"Shit!" Ichigo jumped and fumbled the vase. It hit the edge of the dumpster and shattered, scattering the flowers over the ground in a puddle of broken glass.

"Whoa. Getting rid of evidence or something?"

"Grimmjow's not out here, is he?" Ichigo asked him as his eyes scanned the area.  
>"No, he's on the soundstage talking shop with the demolition guys for that thing next week. Why?"<p>

"Nothing, never mind." Ichigo started picking up the biggest pieces of glass and looked in vain for a broom to sweep up the rest. He paused as Shiro picked up one of the fallen flowers and examined it.

"You know, hiding this kind of thing isn't going to make it go away," the albino said casually as he twirled the stem in his fingers.

"I'm not hiding it, I'm getting rid of it."

"These are from the stalker, right? You're not going to tell Urahara about it?"

"So he can do what? Tell me not to worry? They were in my damned trailer. Whatever he thinks he's doing, it's not working." The thought of somebody being in his private space bothered Ichigo a lot. He'd been so freaked out when he found them that he hadn't bothered to check anything else. What if there was something else waiting for him in there?

"Well, whatever you're doing to relax in your free time isn't working either." Shiro tossed the flower into the dumpster and shoed Ichigo away from the mess. When the redhead glared, Shiro gave him a flat look. "You're shaking so hard you're going to cut yourself. I'll get it." He tossed the worst of it away before steering Ichigo back towards the middle of the lot. "C'mon. Let's get your shit together before you go back in there."

Ichigo was going to refuse but he realized that he was practically trembling. The hit of adrenaline was fading and leaving an empty, drained feeling behind. He paused at the door to his trailer before forcing himself to go in. He could do this. He wasn't going to let fear rule him. The next few minutes were spent looking for anything that looked out of place. But either he was missing something or there was nothing for him to find. Shirosaki watched him patiently from the tiny kitchen area without saying anything, his expression strangely calm. Ichigo stood in the center of the trailer after he was done and looked around feeling a little lost.

"Sit down," Shiro told him gently as he settled him in one of the chairs before laying his fingers lightly on Ichigo's shoulders. "Hmm. You've got some serious knots here. You been stressed lately or is this from being tied up all morning?"

Ichigo shrugged lightly and felt the tightness. "Don't know. It's been a little rough lately, I guess." He suddenly felt very tired.

"Just take a few minutes then. Close your eyes." Shiro's fingers were gentle as he started to carefully massage Ichigo's shoulders. Despite how unnerving the pale man could be on occasion, there was none of that now as his calm voice settled Ichigo's nerves in a way he hadn't expected. "What kind of place is relaxing for you?"

"I like the beach," Ichigo murmured as he felt himself begin to loosen a little. "Haven't been in a while."

"Think of warm sun and soft sand." Shiro's fingers dug in a little deeper. "The sound of the waves on the shore, the breeze."

Ichigo took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. A lot of the tension seemed to flow out with it. The weather was getting steadily warmer now that the seasons were turning. Maybe he'd head out to the beach this weekend. He could ask Grimmjow if he wanted to go. They'd never been there together and he really wanted to do something for him. Ichigo suddenly realized that there were another man's hands on him and he straitened from where he'd been slouching in the chair. Shiro seemed to pick up on his change in mood because he drew his hands away and took a casual step back.

"Better?" Shiro asked him as Ichigo stood up.

"Yeah. Thanks." Ichigo wasn't sure if there was anything meaningful in the look Shiro was giving him or if he was reading way too much into it. He headed toward the door in what he hoped was a casual way and went outside, grateful that Shiro quietly followed him without making nay comments. Mentally shaking himself, he remembered why the other man had come to see him in the first place. "Didn't you say Urahara wanted to see me?"

"Oh, yeah. Something about pressing a button," Shiro said as they headed back across the lot.

Ichigo couldn't quite hold back the grin. "He's really going to let me. Awesome."

Shiro watched him with a quite smile on his face but didn't say anything as they went back inside.

. . . . . . .

Dante prowled down the back alley tracking one of his last leads. Whatever had taken control of Cole's body had been leading him on a wild chase across the city. Martin had almost caught up to him the day before but at a heavy cost. Three people had been killed in the devastating car accident and Martin himself was clinging into life in the hospital. The only good thing that came out of it was the fact that Mary Sweets was sitting at Martin's side instead of poking her nose in the middle of everything to find a story. The last thing they needed was for her to get herself dead. Cole had walked away from the accident without a scratch laughing that distorted, spine tingling laugh. But Dante was going to catch him if it was the last damn thing he did.

Adam was coming in from a different direction as they tried to pin Dante's elusive partner down. Splitting up was probably a bad idea but they really had no other options. The longer that thing was out in the open wreaking havoc in Cole's body, the higher the chance that Cole's reputation would be completely ruined. It didn't matter that he'd officially been declared dead. He was alive now and he needed Dante's help. Dante had felt something the other day, something that he couldn't explain. He thought he'd heard Cole's voice calling out to him. And he knew it hadn't been the thing that had taken control. So he followed his instincts and here he was trying to track the damned thing down.

"Cut."

Grimmjow whipped around and glared at Urahara. He'd walked down this damned alley four times trying to get the right kind of look. "What the hell was wrong that time?"

The director gave him an innocent smile. "Oh, nothing. We have what we need. I just wanted to be thorough. Now," He flicked his fan open. "Let's get over to the next street to get Renji's shot. We've only got this location for a few more hours."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and headed over towards the tent where Ilfort was waving a powder brush at him rather enthusiastically.

"Keep doing that and you're going to pull a muscle," Grimmjow muttered.

"I just need to do a couple of touchups."

"Well, get on with it, then." He practically threw himself into the waiting chair.

"I swear," Ilfort huffed. "We need to keep Ichigo on salary and have him hang out on the set just to keep you from getting so damned grumpy."

Grimmjow pulled back from him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you're never this irritable when he's around. You two didn't have a fight or anything, did you? Things have been going relatively well lately." He moved in with his brush deliberately as if daring Grimmjow to pull back again.

Grimmjow wasn't entirely sure. This weekend had been nice. At least at first. He and Ichigo had spent most of Saturday lazing around in bed before heading over to Ichigo's dad's house for dinner. The guy acted like a moron but he was funny and didn't give Ichigo a hard time about who he was. And Ichigo's sisters were sweet. Grimmjow had grown up an only child so he had no idea what it was like to have siblings. He'd been wary at first but was pleasantly surprised to find that he liked spending time with them.

But Sunday hadn't gone quite so well.

Ichigo had surprised him by suggesting that they go to the beach. They'd never really gone out in public by themselves before. With others yes, but never alone. Ichigo had obviously been nervous about it but at least he was trying to get past his issues. Grimmjow had to give him credit for that. But just as they'd been about to pack up and go, Ichigo had gotten a call from Renji. One of their friends from college was coming to visit and they wanted Ichigo to come hang out. Ichigo had been apologetic but the relief in his eyes had been obvious.

Shrugging it off dismissively, Grimmjow had dumped his bag back in his room and changed his clothes without really saying anything. He'd declined Ichigo's last minute offer to let him come with. The mood had been completely broken. Grimmjow wasn't going to keep Ichigo from going out without him but it still rankled that he would drop their own plans so easily and feel so relieved by it. The tension that had been hovering in the background for a couple of weeks was back in force. Because of course, Ichigo had picked up on Grimmjow's darkening mood. But it was obvious that neither one of them wanted to argue or start a fight. So both of them had stayed silent instead which was almost worse.

Overall, it had been pointless and frustrating. Ichigo had walked out and Grimmjow had spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening out at a bar. The owner was a friend of his and Starrk had listened without comment where they sat at a quiet booth in the corner. Ichigo hadn't come back that evening and Grimmjow was too stubborn to go to him. He'd slept badly last night. It wasn't often that he slept alone anymore and the bed had felt huge and empty. He desperately wanted to make it right even if he didn't want to give in first. But Ichigo wasn't on the call sheet today so he hadn't seen him at all. And he hadn't called.

"Hey. Earth to Grimmjow." Ilfort tapped him on the nose with his brush. "I've been trying to get your attention for almost five minutes."

Grimmjow glared at him. "What?"

"They're waiting for you. Get a move on so we can get the hell out of here."

Snarling under his breath, Grimmjow got out of the chair and tried not to think about how he was probably going to end up spending another night alone.

. . . . . . .

Ichigo hefted the plastic grocery bags he carried to get a more secure grip as he stepped off the elevator. Yesterday had been so stupid and pointless. He'd finally worked himself up to going out in public with Grimmjow and then faltered at the last minute. He was still letting fear get the best of him but he wasn't quite sure how to stop. He'd spent the entire afternoon thinking about how he'd screwed up, but when he got back home that evening, he couldn't quite make himself face him. Then he'd spent the entire night cycling through his thoughts about Grimmjow and worries about the stalker. And to top it all off, Shirosaki kept worming his way in there to make it more complicated.

So after spending and entire day brooding, Ichigo had swallowed a bit of his pride and gone to the store to pick up some groceries. He was going to cook Grimmjow dinner as a piece offering. He was pretty sure that the other man felt just as stupid as he did about the whole thing and hopefully they would get over it. The silence between the two of them had been surprisingly painfully and so much worse than a screaming argument. Ichigo knew he couldn't leave things the way they were so he'd made up his mind earlier that day. They were going to talk and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

But as he rounded the corner, he saw someone standing at Grimmjow's door. He stopped dead in his tracks as his thought process derailed completely. She was petit, yet professional and polished in a slick pewter colored pant suit with low, sensible heels. Her graying sable hair was swept up in a clean twist. And she looked familiar somehow even though Ichigo was pretty sure he'd never met her before. It wasn't until she turned to look at him with a pair of piercing blue eyes that he realized who he must be looking at. Ichigo felt like his stomach was suddenly full of drunken butterflies.

"Um, Mrs. Jaegerjaques?" he asked carefully. To his surprise and relief, her shrewd expression softened. Juggling his bags to hold them in his left hand, he extended his right. "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki." He'd never really gotten over the mild awkwardness of introducing himself to people when they obviously knew who he was already. But if she noticed, she gave no sign. "I'm a friend of Grimmjow's."

"Pleased to meet you." Her grip was confident but gentle as she grasped his fingers. She was still smiling but her gaze was intense like she could see inside him just by looking. "I believe I my have made a bit of a miscalculation. I was looking for Grimmjow's apartment."

"No, you're in the right place. You want to come in?" Ichigo was already unlocking the door before he realized what he was doing. It was something so natural that he did so often, he didn't even give it a second thought as to how it would look that he had a key to Grimmjow's place. His fingers faltered on his keys for a moment but he shook it off and opened the door. That was why he was here after all. He wanted to make himself open up. Of course, declaring himself to his partner's mom might be reaching a bit high right out of the gate. But there was no stopping now. "He won't be home for another hour or so but you're welcome to wait."

"I did not mean to impose. I should have called first." She tucked her small handbag under her arm and drew herself up as if to leave.

Ichigo turned to look at her, all thoughts of discomfort suddenly gone. "No, please. Come in." He saw her weighing the options and composing a polite decline but Ichigo shook his head. "He really misses you," he told her quietly.

Ichigo caught something that might have been a crack in her calm composure and she blinked twice rapidly before taking a measured breath. He felt a little awkward about this and he was well aware that he could be making an huge mistake that could blow up in his face. But while Grimmjow hadn't really talked much about his visit to see his dad in the hospital, when he told Ichigo later how his mom had forgiven him his voice had cracked at little. It had been such a tightly charged emotional moment. And then Grimmjow had smiled and sank into Ichigo's arms where he'd slept more peacefully than Ichigo could remember. There was no way he could let him miss a chance to see her.

"I'm cooking tonight, so please stay for dinner. He'd love to see you." Ichigo grinned. "And until he gets here you can tell me all kinds of embarrassing stories about when he was a kid."

Her lips curled up in a quiet smile. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of a few."


End file.
