A/N: My first Kuro ficlet which originally appeared in the Grelliam thread on BlackButler(dot)net :-)
Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso
Mesmerising
The London Division District Supervisor glanced at the stack of forms placed to the left of his desk while the redhead continued to rant. Naturally he could have stopped the tirade by now but he found the blur of colour that thing produced in a whirl of emotion... intriguing. Looking from the lifeless pile of paper to his biggest professional nuisance, who was now gesticulating wildly to underline some small point, his mind wandered to a recent case.
An inventor, suicide, blueprints turning to ash in the fire as he arrived to reap his soul. Deed done; a prototype mechanical toy fell from the dead hand with a small clink. It had still been moving and in a moment of unprofessionalism, 'no tampering with what the humans called "evidence"', he found that he had wanted it to stop for a while, test its limits, figure out what made it tick. Mesmerising.
"..Wil~l! It's unreasonable! How can you keep a lady chained to her desk with paperwork as if to a kitchen sink? I rea-"
"Chained to a desk Sutcliff?" The question was low, dangerous.
"W-William?" Too late, Grell noticed the cold, deliciously calculatingly cold, look in his superior's eyes as the scythe was brought down rapidly and the world greyed out.
"...and have you seen Sutcliff-sempai around, Sir?" A small but still audible clinking sound followed Ronald's question. His boss' impassive face gave no clues so Knox scratched the back of his head while querying "Eh, what was that just now?"
"Sutcliff has been detained for a while, it is not a cause for concern. This desk merely has a screw loose and needs to be kicked back into place," here Spears suited word to action... shouldn't desks sound more wooden and less muffled? "If that's all?"
Gratefully, the younger shinigami nodded and made his exit. He held a lot of respect for the boss-man but frankly he suspected there was something a little... off about him sometimes. Shaking himself to ward off the heebie-jeebies he wandered off to General Affairs.
As the door closed with a small click Spears nudged his glasses back into place with the tip of his Death scythe and pushed the chair back from the desk slightly. Yes, the modifications definitely improved it, he mused while drinking in the sight of the blushing captive chained beneath the desk.
"Bad" he murmured tonelessly while observing his toy drop its gagged lips to kiss the tip of his boot. Yes, this ball of energy he wanted to stop for while, test its limits, figure out what made it tick. Mesmerising.