A/N: I really wasn't planning on adding any more to this. I really wasn't. But Gin's entrance just popped into my head...and it was too good of a line to pass up. So, without further ado, more copious Nnoitora abuse. Gee...I almost feel sorry for him. xD

In Which Names Are Called (That May Or May Not Be True)

Nowadays, wherever Szayelaporro went, chaos followed, the music of curses and shrieks trailing behind. Nnoitora could hear him coming a mile away. And when the Octava Espada rounded the corner, Nnoitora did the only respectable thing there was to be done in such a situation: he fled.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Nnoitora froze and winced. "Uh…hey, Szayel," he muttered, turning to face Szayelaporro with the same hesitant caution one would use to approach a rampaging rhinoceros.

Szayel's face contorted angrily. "Uh, hey? Is that all you have to say to me, you bastard? I am carrying your child, you disgusting spoon head!"

Nnoitora's temper flared. "Oh, spoon head, like I haven't heard that before, gay hair!" he spat.

Szayelaporro flushed with rage. "I can't choose the color of my hair, you dumbass beanpole!"








Szayelaporro's lips tightened into a thin, flat line. "What did you call me?" he hissed, voice gone low and dangerous."

Nnoitora's mouth twisted upwards into a large, sly grin. "I said," he declared with a decided tone of relish, "That you are a squiggly, slimy, squicky, gross, oozing sex jellyfish."


Gin followed the trail of destruction and screams that inevitably led to Szayelaporro, and discovered the Octava Espada, decidedly grim, methodically squashing Nnoitora's organs one by one between his fingertips. "Whoa, whoa there Szayelaporro!" the ex-shinigami said calmly, patting the air gently with his hands, "Calm down now, we jus' got his face fixed."

Szayelaporro growled and clenched his fist tighter around the little doll in his hands. Nnoitora choked and sputtered and coughed up something that looked like a bit of lung.

"Szayel," Gin coaxed soothingly, "C'mon now, how 'bout sealin' up Fornicaras, hmm? Can't be good for the baby, yeah?" Szayel gave another dark growl but complied, letting go of his Resurreccion state and sheathing his sword. "Goooood," Gin praised, "Gooood. Now let tha' lil' doll go, why don't cha?" Szayel looked down at the doll in his hands and curled his lip. He spat at the prone form of Nnoitora on the ground, and with a snarl he turned on his heel and stalked off, slamming the doll into the wall. "Well," Gin said thoughtfully, "Tha's one way t' do it."

"I think…he broke…my spine," Nnoitora gasped out, wallowing in the growing puddle of blood on the floor. "And my spleen…definitely that…"

"For goodness' sake," Gin drawled, "Don't be such a crybaby."