Okay, here's the deal... I'm going on a trip and it so happen that it run on my update day, so there's a 1 percent chance that I'll update on Thursday. I most likely will update either Tuesday (early) or Saturday/Sunday (late). But back to this chapter . . . .

Chappy Five!

-Enjoy!-

-HARSH Chapter 5-

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the lobby of the high-rise. The room only holds a handful of people including a weirdo at the entrance with pink hair and glasses… not to mention he's a guy…

"Grimmjow," he calls in a delighted manner. "So she's the girl?" he inquires in a ridiculously stuck up fashion.

"Where's the stuff?" the Sexta snaps. He jams his gun into his jacket pocket, hiding the weapon.

The other (I assume) Espada directs Grimmjow's attention to a briefcase he's holding in his right hand. "Yes, and is that the wound I am to address?"

"I'll do it myself," is replied coldly.

"Now, now," the pinkette wags a finger, attempting to stop him. "Last time you almost had an infection. It was thanks to that Orihime girl that you still have that arm. It's sad that we couldn't keep her around more. I wanted to do some research on her procedures."

"Doesn't matter. She's gone."

"But we got another one. I wonder what she does…" the snobby one trails looking at me.

"A mean right hook," Grimmjow answers, adjusting his jaw.

"Oh, then you can relate to her. You're our best hand-to-hand fighter."

"Who cares? Just give me the damn stuff and I'll be done with you."

"Slow down. There's no rush. So you agreed that I could-?"

"Fine. Now shut the hell up," Grimmjow growls.

"Okay, let's go to my suite. We're getting looks."

The Sexta grabs my writs and hauls me back into the elevator. I stumble in and smack against the inside wall. "Jerk," I mumble. He chooses to ignore the comment. The other enters and punches in a floor number. We ascend to the specific floor then the elevator door pull apart.

…And this is where I start freaking out.

It wasn't a suite; it was a laboratory. Large hydraulic machines circulate through the apartment. Body length tables containing stained sheets, cabinet after cabinet filled by organized vials of all different chemicals, and test-tubes roaming the counters stock the room. In addition to the complex layout, a large screen is mounted on the wall along with a complicated keypad that contains diverse keys and switches with various purposes directly below it.

The three of us step in to the laboratory. An aura filled the room, making me feel visibly uncomfortable. The owner of the suite sets down his briefcase onto the counter and takes out a container, a small jar of ointment, and surgical tools. I spot a scalpel he's about to lay down is still covered in blood.

"I meant to clean this…" he mutters, as he places it into the sink. He takes off his gloves and throws them into a slot cut into the wall labeled 'hazardous'. "Sit," he gestures the blue haired Espada. The latter of the two seats himself onto a stool beside the operating table.

The medic/scientist/whatever-he-is grabs another pair of latex gloves and approaches Grimmjow. He gabs his arm and pulls the arm out of the sleeve. Adjusting his glasses, positions it for analysis.

"The bullet scraped across the bone. It's a hair away from a compound facture. Do you know who did this?"

Grimmjow's eyes finds themselves looking angrily into mine. The other gets the hint and begins to crackle a laugh.

"Yes, she is defiantly a feisty one," he chuckles at the Sexta only to be glared at. He coughs and inquires, "Even with a severe injury, she could put up a fight?"

"How did you…?" I speak in an undertone, faintly audible.

"Our Tres never misses a shot. The wound must have causes a lot of damage by the way you stumble. After all, it was a sniper shot," he says, returning to the counter. He retrieves the objects, walks back, and places them on the operating table. The man pulls up a chair to sit on.

"Also, I see you have a slight limp in your left leg." The man snickers again, "Actually, it's hard not to notice." He ties a band around the Sexta's bicep. Once secured, he fills a syringe with a liquid then flicks it and tests it by squeezing the end to release a small quantity. The needle plunges into Grimmjow's flesh and the fluid is pushed through. He refills it again for a few more rounds then stops.

He waits a moment for the drug to set and readies for the procedure. Deciding it's time, he takes some tweezers and starts to find any sign of shrapnel from the bullet to take out.

I look away, disgusted and now scarred for life. I can hear the slimy movement of the tweezers and my gag reflex reacts. I hold it down and try to drown it out with my usual what am I going to do next.

Quickly my eyes shoot the elevator. I slowly back to it.

"Lumina, Verona!"

Out of nowhere two fat midgets come running in and block the elevator.

Oh, come on!

"You really believe you can escape? Us Espada have the luxury of having high security, but you don't have any luxury here. If you do not cooperate with us we will make your stay so dreadfully savage that you would beg for death," the operator uncharacteristically threatens, looking away from he operation.

I feel my mouth somewhat drop.

Seconds passes and he merrily shrugs and resumes. After removing every bit of shrapnel, he wipes off the tweezers and set them aside. The man then cleans the wound with a cloth and applies the ointment. When that's finished he takes out a long wire and pliers. He creates holes in Grimmjow's skin and threads the wire through one on each side that are across from each other. He knots it and clips off the excess. He repeats until fourteen stitches lines the wound.

"Grimmjow, isn't it Ulquiorra's job to do the kidnapping."

"And?" Grimmjow sighs.

"You should stick to your job. The Cuatro will not be pleased."

"Like I care! That guy can lay off and get that poll out of his-"

"Language. There is a lady present."

"She's anything, but one," the Sexta snarls.

Rolling my eyes, I spit, "Does this look like the face of a person who gives a-"

"All right. I take it back…" the scientist sighs, rubbing his temple in frustration.

Thanks for reading!

So...? Review!

I'm going to write how she meets the Espada at the meeting and other places ( and my interpretations on what they are in the gang) . . there's a small build up. (Sorry)