I wish my cat would stop jumping on the keyboard so I could type properly. D:
Szayel had always been jealous of Grimmjaw, for some unearthly reason. Of course, he wouldn't admit it for the world, but he admired Grimmjaw's incredibly kickass ways, his smooth talk, his feral grin, his well toned chest, his muscles, his … well, let's just take it that Szayel was jealous, and jealousy drove him to the furthest extent possible. Szayel came to the conclusion that if he couldn't have Grimmjaw's everything, he could be Grimmjaw, secretly – and then he'd have everything he could wish for. Szayel smirked as he watched the teal haired Espada eye Halibel up and down appreciatively from outside his work tower, long fingernails raking themselves across his skin, drawing blood. Szayel licked at the blood that oozed from his wound hungrily. Almost immediately, his wound healed up.
Rubbing his hands together deviously, Szayel decided that his little poisoned drink concocted several weeks ago would successfully turn Grimmjaw into him, and vice versa, even if only for a short time. If his plan worked, Szayel would enjoy every bit of Grimmjaw's body – and his abilities as an Espada. Replaying his usual sick images in his head, Szayel gave a shudder and produced a long moan. Yes, indeed, he thought as his pink tongue slid across his teeth languorously. Grimmjaw will be mine.
Unaware of the strange situation he was in; Grimmjaw continued flirting with Halibel, whose large white front he rather admired. She didn't seem to be returning his intense gaze, however, deep in thought while watching Ulquiorra clean his swords. He was about to try a different technique – sidling up smoothly alongside her and getting her to talk – when pink strands of hair blocked Halibel from his view.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Grimmjaw glared at Szayel, who leaned over him with a gleeful smile. "Get off me, man."
"Drink with me." Came Szayel's invitation. "Try this."
Grimmjaw stared at the transparent bottle, where sickly looking green liquid sloshed about in said container. He swallowed loudly, feeling goosebumps prickle up his arms as Szayel whispered into his ear flirtatiously.
"Drink this, Grimmjaw, before I force it down your throat."
"No way in hell," Grimmjaw leaned backwards as far as possible to avoid Szayel's dangerously pink tongue. "What is it anyway?"
"Rum," Szayel hissed, lying through his teeth, trailing long thin nails down Grimmjaw's bare chest. "It's what humans drink sometimes. I read it in an Earth magazine Ulquiorra bought at a local store in Karakura, and decided to make my own."
Ulquiorra looked up from his swords. "What? I did? Don't remember."
"Bullshit," Grimmjaw managed to squeak out. "Go try your wisecracks and tricks on someone else; you think I'm a fool to try even one drop of your weird stuff?"
"Ah, but you're a fool to refuse." Szayel sniggered, inching closer and sliding his hands downward stealthily, all the way to the waistband of Grimmjaw's Espada pants. "Maybe you'd prefer a little suggestive foreplay to change your mind?"
Grimmjaw was thoroughly freaked by now; his hair was standing up on edge. Spooked, he looked toward Ulquiorra for help, but apparently Emocar was bent over his swords, crooning love songs to the blades. Next, Grimmjaw turned to Halibel, and was shocked to find her staring at both him and Szayel lustily with her amber eyes. Looks like he was on his own.
"Er…" he hummed and hawed. "I, uh, no thanks. Leave me alo--! Where do you think your hand is going, bastard?!"
"Why, some place fun, of course," Szayel licked his lips calmly, as if it was the most obvious statement. "Drink, my sweet?"
"Make me." Grimmjaw snarled, and found himself pushed against the wall, his hands tied by long whip-like strands of Szayel's pink hair.
"Don't struggle, Grimmjaw," Szayel purred. "You'll make me oh-so-hard."
Grimmjaw turned red, yanking his wrists downward, but to no avail. "Let me go, Szayel. I'm warning you."
"You sound so confident, but let's see if you're confident enough," Szayel stroked the fabric of Grimmjaw's pants teasingly. "Right down here."
Grimmjaw's gulp was audible. "I won't drink it, you sick bastard!"
"Tough words," Szayel chuckled, uncorking the bottle with a thumb. "Looks like I'll just have to feed you."
"Holy shit, this is so good." Halibel whispered conversationally to Ulquiorra, who blatantly ignored her in his efforts to make his blades shine. "Szayel dominating Grimmjaw makes me want to stop breathing."
Grimmjaw's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut as tight as he could, kicking out with his legs. Managing to avoid his futile attacks, Szayel grinned wider, tipping the bottle sideways until a drop of the vile green liquid sloshed to the white sand. Instantly, the sand started fizzing. Dangerous stuff indeed. Szayel frowned; did he bring the right bottle? Nevermind, it was too late to go back and do a little research now. If he left, Grimmjaw would run and find a place to hide.
"Open wide, my sweet." Szayel used his long pink tongue to slide Grimmjaw's lips apart. "How about I drink some and let you taste it with a nice, slow, kiss?"
Realizing that no amount of jaw clamping and fang gnashing would help him, Grimmjaw could only shake his head and groan as Szayel's hips grinded into his. To make things worse, Halibel was actually panting, fingers gripping Ulquiorra's arm as she watched them with hungry eyes. Ulquiorra didn't seem to like it, attempting to wrench his arm free. Unfortunately, Halibel's grip was death, hence producing a loud defeated sigh from Ulquiorra as he stared down sadly at his already sparkling swords, unable to clean them any further.
"No kiss? Well then, this will have to do." Without warning, Szayel tipped the whole bottle into Grimmjaw's mouth, where the liquid splashed down his throat and into his system. "Don't choke, my little darling."
Grimmjaw coughed, clutching his stomach. There was a loud fizzing sound, like firecrackers. A little bang, and Szayel realized his plans had backfired.
"Dammit, Grimmjaw. Son of a bitch."
- - -
Ichigo unsheathed Zangetsu and prepared himself to fight Ulquiorra, who seemed to be slightly jittery. His usual self was calm and confident, but right now he seemed to be fidgeting madly, as if he had fire ants in his pants. The substitute Shinigami cocked his head to the side, watching Ulquiorra intently. There was something weird going on with his pants all right, like little hands moving and gliding…
Ulquiorra couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop that, Grimmjaw!"
Grimmjaw? Ichigo gawked and ogled some more. This was pretty good news.
Meanwhile, Ulquiorra fished up a little Hollow from behind his pants that looked exactly like Grimmjaw, except that he was smaller, shorter, slightly chubbier and more childish looking. Ichigo gaped, resisting the urge to laugh, but failed.
"What's so funny, Shinigami?" Ulquiorra dropped baby Grimmjaw to the ground and sliced the skin of his cheek with his sword. "I warned you to stop that, you little brat."
The little Hollow whimpered, but refused to cry as he reached up with trembling fingers to wipe the blood from his wounded cheek. His tears, nonetheless, dripped down the sides of his cheeks to his miniature Hollow garments. In the back of his mind, Ichigo wondered who sewed and manufactured the Espada clothes, and who patched them up when they were torn. Idiot, he chided himself, Zangetsu re-sews your Shinigami shihakusho when ripped, so obviously their zanpakutou does that for them too! Frowning at Ulquiorra as he prodded baby Grimmjaw with the tip of his sword, Ichigo decided he'd put a stop to that and save Grimmjaw's ass for once.
"Hey, Ulqui!" he called, flashing a rather inappropriate finger. "If you harm one little hair on his head, I'll cut you to pieces."
"I'd love to see you try," Ulquiorra replied, stony faced. "You wouldn't understand how irritating it is to care for this little shit."
Grimmjaw finally registered the pain from his sliced cheek, and began to sob loudly. Ichigo's chest tightened; he longed to hold the little Hollow close to his chest and comfort him. But right now, he had Ulquiorra to deal with, and he wasn't sure he could fend him off while trying to protect a child of the enemy.
"What happened to Grimmjaw, Ulquiorra?" Ichigo stalled, watching the child hiccup and wail at Ulquiorra's feet. "Is that his clone?"
"No, it's him alright," Ulquiorra gave Grimmjaw a hard kick, sending him tumbling head over heels to the hem of Ichigo's shihakusho. "See for yourself."
"Don't kick him, dammit! Can't you see he's in pain already?" Ichigo reached down to pick the trembling child up gingerly. "Shh, baby. You're okay now, I'll get you all healed up."
Ulquiorra stared at him, unable to register his actions toward the baby Arrancar. To the left, Stark called for Ulquiorra as he hurriedly opened up a gargantuan. "Oi, Aizen ordered us to retreat! Let's get going. Leave the brat; he's useless now, thanks to Szayel."
"Szayel did this to Grimmjaw?" Ichigo asked, cuddling the baby close to him. "What the hell was he thinking?!"
Ulquiorra ignored him and turned on his heel to follow Stark, leaving Ichigo and a sobbing Grimmjaw in his arms. Ichigo sighed and sheathed Zangetsu, gently stroking baby Grimmjaw's soft blue hair as he stared down into his frightened blue eyes.
"Don't cry," he whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You're safe with me now."
Grimmjaw blinked, and buried his face in the folds of Ichigo's robes. "Not cryin'." He sniffled, attempting to cover his blush.
Gee, this didn't turn out to be what I'd expected, but nothing ever does anyway. Review, please? :D