[Log] Grimmjow, Rangiku (Party log)
Title: Two Cats in a Bar (Party log)
Characters: Grimmjow (formative) & Rangiku (kellenanne)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Rangiku reserves the best for people other than him.
Grimmjow felt the urge to shake himself to get rid of the feeling of bodies pressed up against him. He wasn’t exactly a person who liked to be part of a crowd and when he saw the cluster of people at the bar, he frowned. Great. Just great.
The blue-haired man manoeuvred himself to the front line with a few well placed shoves and leaned against the bar. The bartenders, all busy with filling orders, didn’t pay attention to him which didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like he wanted to be waited on by some random dude.
Patiently, the young man waited for one particular bartender to make her appearance. One with a pretty smile and a pair of very big… eyes. When she rushed past, his hand shot out quick like a striking snake and closed around her wrist.
“Mind handin’ me a beer, wildcat?” he purred, a broad grin on his face.
Rangiku nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand wrapped around her wrist and brought her to a halt. She turned, wide eyes and caught breath returning rapidly to normal when she heard Grimmjow's voice. Her hand settled on her hip as she regarded him with a vaguely amused look. "You gotta do that to a girl?" He was going to give her a heart attack and she was definitely too young to go out that way.
She snorted. "You deserve piss in a can for scaring me like that."
“Had to. Not my fault if ya fail to notice that the awesomeness has arrived to lighten up yer day, doll. Ya should get yer eyes checked.” Laughing, Grimmjow brushed his thumb across the soft skin of Rangiku’s wrist before he let go of it. With a sigh he propped up his chin in his hand and leaned forward.
“American beer’s not that bad. But I wouldn’t say no to a non-American brand, ya know?” he said, cocking his head to the side and smirked at her. “C’mon, Ran, don’t be mad at me, please. I’m sorry for scarin’ ya, okay?” The Arrancar neither looked like he felt sorry nor did he sound like he did. If anything, he seemed pretty smug but that could have been caused by the attention he was getting from the pretty woman.
"My eyes are fine," she countered, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. Arrogant little fine piece of ass needed to have his ego cut down a bit.
She didn't have the heart to do it. He treated her well.
"Fine, fine. I'll get your beer." It was a sexy smirk; what could she say to it?
"Thank you." Grimmjow's eyes remained glued to Rangiku's form as she went to retrieve his beer. My, my, that woman certainly was easy on the eyes. One in a million. A soft, almost dreamy sigh escaped him.
Maybe he should ask her out some time. They could have a drink... no, she worked in a bar so that'd be pretty lame. Clubbing perhaps? He bet she knew how to move on a dancefloor.
The image of Rangiku dancing blew the dreaminess off the blue-haired man's face. Yep, he should definitely ask her out. Soon.
Rangiku got him his beer; not the best stuff for Grimmjow, but certainly not the worst. The best? That was reserved for people who didn't try to give her a heart attack. Grimmjow, thanks to that, warranted... oh, second- or third-best.
He was a flirt; she could reward that.
She turned, beer in hand to face him, and blinked in the face of his expression. "Beer that good?"
"Beer's always good." Grimmjow laughed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little silly about having let his emotions show on his face. Fortunately, the redhead couldn't read thoughts unless the rumours about red hair and witches were true. Nah.
The Arrancar quirked an eyebrow when his gaze dropped to his drink in her hand. Bottled beer. It was marginally better than 'piss in a can' but not much. Oh well, moving around in a crowd with a bottle was more convenient than with a glass. At least, nothing would get spilled that way.
Realising that the crowd was getting thicker and thirstier, he figured that it'd be better if he left the barkeeper alone now. "See ya later, doll. And don't 'cha break too many of those poor sods' hearts, eh?"
She managed to look affronted. "Of course the beer's always good." She didn't work hard, and didn't work often, but she took a great deal of pride in the drinks she served.
(Even 'piss in a can'; some people deserved such treatment, you know.)
She raised her brows. "Not my fault if their hearts are fragile." She shooed him away with a lazy gesture and a crooked smile. "Go on, Mister. Go break your own hearts."
"Aye, aye, ma'am." Grimmjow saluted sloppily and snatched his beer from the counter. "I'll be back for more later, wildcat."
Flashing Rangiku a bright grin, the musician swaggered off in search of something fun to do. Since he wasn’t interested in breaking hearts, he kept his eyes open for potential nose-breaking situations. Even an event as high-profile as this birthday party wasn’t safe from idiots - like Grimmjow - starting trouble.
Characters: Grimmjow (formative) & Rangiku (kellenanne)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Rangiku reserves the best for people other than him.
Grimmjow felt the urge to shake himself to get rid of the feeling of bodies pressed up against him. He wasn’t exactly a person who liked to be part of a crowd and when he saw the cluster of people at the bar, he frowned. Great. Just great.
The blue-haired man manoeuvred himself to the front line with a few well placed shoves and leaned against the bar. The bartenders, all busy with filling orders, didn’t pay attention to him which didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like he wanted to be waited on by some random dude.
Patiently, the young man waited for one particular bartender to make her appearance. One with a pretty smile and a pair of very big… eyes. When she rushed past, his hand shot out quick like a striking snake and closed around her wrist.
“Mind handin’ me a beer, wildcat?” he purred, a broad grin on his face.
Rangiku nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand wrapped around her wrist and brought her to a halt. She turned, wide eyes and caught breath returning rapidly to normal when she heard Grimmjow's voice. Her hand settled on her hip as she regarded him with a vaguely amused look. "You gotta do that to a girl?" He was going to give her a heart attack and she was definitely too young to go out that way.
She snorted. "You deserve piss in a can for scaring me like that."
“Had to. Not my fault if ya fail to notice that the awesomeness has arrived to lighten up yer day, doll. Ya should get yer eyes checked.” Laughing, Grimmjow brushed his thumb across the soft skin of Rangiku’s wrist before he let go of it. With a sigh he propped up his chin in his hand and leaned forward.
“American beer’s not that bad. But I wouldn’t say no to a non-American brand, ya know?” he said, cocking his head to the side and smirked at her. “C’mon, Ran, don’t be mad at me, please. I’m sorry for scarin’ ya, okay?” The Arrancar neither looked like he felt sorry nor did he sound like he did. If anything, he seemed pretty smug but that could have been caused by the attention he was getting from the pretty woman.
"My eyes are fine," she countered, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. Arrogant little fine piece of ass needed to have his ego cut down a bit.
She didn't have the heart to do it. He treated her well.
"Fine, fine. I'll get your beer." It was a sexy smirk; what could she say to it?
"Thank you." Grimmjow's eyes remained glued to Rangiku's form as she went to retrieve his beer. My, my, that woman certainly was easy on the eyes. One in a million. A soft, almost dreamy sigh escaped him.
Maybe he should ask her out some time. They could have a drink... no, she worked in a bar so that'd be pretty lame. Clubbing perhaps? He bet she knew how to move on a dancefloor.
The image of Rangiku dancing blew the dreaminess off the blue-haired man's face. Yep, he should definitely ask her out. Soon.
Rangiku got him his beer; not the best stuff for Grimmjow, but certainly not the worst. The best? That was reserved for people who didn't try to give her a heart attack. Grimmjow, thanks to that, warranted... oh, second- or third-best.
He was a flirt; she could reward that.
She turned, beer in hand to face him, and blinked in the face of his expression. "Beer that good?"
"Beer's always good." Grimmjow laughed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little silly about having let his emotions show on his face. Fortunately, the redhead couldn't read thoughts unless the rumours about red hair and witches were true. Nah.
The Arrancar quirked an eyebrow when his gaze dropped to his drink in her hand. Bottled beer. It was marginally better than 'piss in a can' but not much. Oh well, moving around in a crowd with a bottle was more convenient than with a glass. At least, nothing would get spilled that way.
Realising that the crowd was getting thicker and thirstier, he figured that it'd be better if he left the barkeeper alone now. "See ya later, doll. And don't 'cha break too many of those poor sods' hearts, eh?"
She managed to look affronted. "Of course the beer's always good." She didn't work hard, and didn't work often, but she took a great deal of pride in the drinks she served.
(Even 'piss in a can'; some people deserved such treatment, you know.)
She raised her brows. "Not my fault if their hearts are fragile." She shooed him away with a lazy gesture and a crooked smile. "Go on, Mister. Go break your own hearts."
"Aye, aye, ma'am." Grimmjow saluted sloppily and snatched his beer from the counter. "I'll be back for more later, wildcat."
Flashing Rangiku a bright grin, the musician swaggered off in search of something fun to do. Since he wasn’t interested in breaking hearts, he kept his eyes open for potential nose-breaking situations. Even an event as high-profile as this birthday party wasn’t safe from idiots - like Grimmjow - starting trouble.