He Was the Only One

Please note: Some sections of this story, such as the first one, are taking place in 'present' time while the other sections are flashbacks. This is to contrast how the relationship began compared to where it is now.

Chapter 1:

In the darkness of the night, her clocked ticked explosively loud as it slowly counted down the seconds. Her heart beat almost as loudly as it filled her ears with a rhythm that steadily grew with each tick of the clock, but Grell laid in bed without moving and without speaking as she tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately, the chaos swirling about her brain was far louder than any of the noises, and she knew that attempting to sleep was nearly futile despite her body's need. She sighed loudly.

A creak, a soft as a whisper, sounded through the house, and Grell felt herself instantly freeze. He had finally arrived home, so she instantly shut her eyes and tried to force her tense muscles to relax. When she was asleep, she often snored or stop breathing all together, so she held her breath when he entered the room in an attempt to create the illusion she was sleeping. It made her slightly dizzy to not breathe while awake, but she didn't really want to face him right now. There would be questions as to why she wasn't asleep, and she had no answers that would suffice. Of course, if he figured out she was just pretending to slumber that would only lead to more questions and accusations. She could roll over and pretend to wake up upon hearing him enter the room, but there was no guarantee that would stop an argument or the never ending questions. Silently, she focused on remaining still as possible as she hoped that they could avoid the routine for just this night.

Luck seemed to be on her side for once as she heard him undress and crawl into bed. He made no move to touch her, and soon she heard his familiar soft snore. Exhaling softly, she relaxed slightly as she opened her eyes to peer into the darkness once more. She had no idea how she had gotten into this situation or how she was going to escape, but one thing was for certain.

It hadn't always been like this.

((x))

"I don't like this," Ronald complained as he took a violent swig from the cup in hand as if trying to create a physical exclamation point.

Grell smiled at the younger reaper, although she was as uncomfortable as he appeared to be. "Ronald Knox doesn't like a party?" she asked, "I never thought I'd hear such a thing."

"Not the party," hissed Ronald in a whisper, "Them!" He gestured with his cup to a group of well-dressed men standing on the far side of the room. "Why is Upper Management here? They've never come to one of our office parties before. How can I relax knowing that they're watching me like that?"

"I don't think they're watching just you," Grell replied with a laugh, "We're all on display here. Maybe they just wanted to see how we peons actually partied before going back to their cold boardrooms and probably colder beds. Perhaps we should really show them. What do you think?" Without waiting for a reply, Grell sat her cup down on a nearby table and sauntered over towards the unfamiliar men. She was still dressed in her work clothes as William had insisted in only professional dress, but her exaggerated walk still drew their attention. From across the room, she could feel the weight of the eyes of her colleagues, and she realized that they probably thought she was crazy. That didn't matter since most already had that opinion of her anyway, and this was only confirming their suspicions.

"Hello, gentleman," she purred as she batted her eyelashes, "Having fun?"

A nervous cough echoed from somewhere in the back of the group as the blank, nearly expressionless faces were all focused on her. "This party appears to be satisfactory," a tall man with wheat colored hair finally stated, "Research has shown that social gatherings among coworkers builds necessary morale to ensure success."

She allowed her smile to grow as she eyed him like a lion stalking a gazelle. "Oh, we haven't got started yet," she said. Stepping forward, she gently fingered his black, silk tie. "Just wait until all this liquor kicks in. I'm afraid that none of us, especially me, will be responsible for our actions. Then it's time for…group activities." This was a complete lie as the drinks provided were weak and she had only had a few sips. Although she did drink socially, she actually didn't like being drunk, and there had never been anything resembling an orgy at any office party. If there had been, they would have probably ended up collecting William's records as he would no doubt be the first reaper in history to die of a heart attack.

Hearing the murmurs tiptoeing about the room and seeing looks of shock pass over the previously blank faces, she walked away and took up a position against a far wall. There was nervous laughter, but everyone was finally starting to talk and relax. Of course, she was the subject of their conversation, but she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter. Everyone would have talked anyway, and this way Upper Management had something in common with the field agents. They all thought she was insane. William would no doubt reprimand her later for this little stunt, even though it had been successful. After all, she had played her part perfectly. It just so happened her part was that of the outsider.

"That was quite a show," a soft voice suddenly announced close to her ear.

Turning she found herself facing a rather tall man with brown hair that was slightly wavy despite his efforts to keep it slicked back. She had never seen him before, and it was obvious that he was part of Upper Management from the cut of his suit, but there was a warmth to his smile that his colleagues were lacking. He was a handsome, if not striking, man, but she only smiled back coolly as she wasn't sure if he could be trusted.

"Who says it was a show?" she asked.

He laughed gently. "Oh, I know an actress when I see one, even one as talented as you. I've been watching you, Miss Sutcliff. Of course, that's not all that difficult. You're not exactly one that can blend into a crowd."

Grell's heart leapt into her chest as she realized that he had used the terms 'actress' and 'Miss' when referring to her. It was something she fought with daily, but this man had been the first to address her correctly without being prompted. "You seem to know a lot about me," she said, "but I don't even know you're name."

"It's Michael," he said, "Michael Summer. And yes, I do know a lot about you. Your name is…well-known, and I have to say the stories intrigued me. I confess, I did a bit of research, although I have to say you still manage to exceed all expectations."

Although she smiled as if this was old news to her, Grell was more than a little nervous. She knew there were more than a few unsavory rumors about her, so she was afraid as to what Michael had heard and what he expected. It was complimentary that someone had taken the time to learn more about her, but this was a brand new experience for her. "I never did like to simply meet expectations, darling," she said, "Where's the fun if you can't surprise someone?"

He laughed again. "I'd really like to get to know you better," he said, "Maybe I could meet you after work one day and we could grab a quick bite to eat."

"Are you sure you want to?" she returned, "I might just turn out to be more than you can handle." Her words were teasing, but in truth she was partially afraid to set up such a date. There had been more than a few men who simply wanted to see if she was as crazy as the rumors said or as promiscuous. Although she hadn't formed much of an opinion of Michael, she really didn't want to get her hopes up only to find that a careless and hurtful rumor had destroyed her chances at love once again.

"I'd like to at least try," he said, moving closer, "I might surprise you with what I can handle."

"Sutcliff," William called from the doorway of his office, "A word please."

She sighed dramatically. "I have to go, my dear," she said, "A lady like myself is always in demand."

"So what shift do you work tomorrow?" Michael asked.

"I…uh, I'm not sure if we should set up something so quickly," she managed. It was harder to keep up her act of confidence with all the doubt racing through her mind.

"Sutcliff!" William's impatience was showing.

"I have to go," she said, "Perhaps fate will bring us together another time!" She skipped towards William without even glancing back in Michael's direction. Although she had enjoyed the attention, she didn't really think that the man was sincere. It was doubtful she would ever see him again.

((x))

Grell stretched her arms as she walked out of dispatch as she allowed her gaze to drift over to the setting sun. There was no real daylight or night in the reaper realm, but the illusion had been put into place supposedly when the first reapers had been reborn. It had something to do with the passage of time and circadian rhythm of bodies that still remembered what it was like to be human. Normally, she didn't take the time to dwell on such matters, but it did look like such a nice evening with the distant buildings taking on such a lovely hue of rose and gold. She breathed deeply in satisfaction.

"You never told me what time you got off work, Miss Sutcliff," a voice gently reprimanded.

Jumping slightly as her thoughts were jerked back into reality, she turned and saw Michael standing there casually; his broad shoulders leaning against dispatch. He had been apparently waiting for her, and she watched as a single, soft breeze played with that wavy hair. The same playful light lit up his green-gold eyes and were reflected in his broad smile encased in dimples. Somehow he looked even more handsome then he had at the party as pushed away from the building and walked towards her.

"I knew you could figure out if you were interested," she cooed, "I have to play a little hard to get, after all, or you just might forget that I'm a lady."

"Oh, I don't think I'd ever be able to forget that," Michael said, "So, are you ready?"

"Ready? I'm usually ready for anything, darling, but you'll have to be more specific."

He laughed again as the setting sun reflected on his glasses and gave his face an almost heavenly glow. "Ready to eat. I know a nice little place in the human realm."

"But I'm not dressed to go out," she protested, "Just let me hurry home and get ready. A handsome man such as yourself only deserves a lady looking her best."

He wrapped his arm about her shoulders and leaned closely so that she could feel his breath upon her face. His breath smelled slightly of peppermint. "I think you look just fine," he said in a soft tone.

((x))

At first, she had been a bit underwhelmed by his choice in eating establishments. While she wasn't precisely dressed for one of the more upscale eateries, the inn he ported them too seemed dusty and old. Her idea of him as the perfect, charming gentleman wavered ever so slightly, but upon entering she noticed just how busy the dining area was and the delicious smells wafting about the room. A young, buxom woman with golden blonde hair took their orders once they had seated, and Grell could see the woman's cornflower blue eyes light up when she looked upon Michael. Annoyance rose up within her, but Michael barely seemed to notice as he quickly ordered for both of them – assuring her that their Sunday Roast was simply divine. He barely even seemed to notice the waitress eyeing him as if he had suddenly became part of the menu for all of his attention was directed towards Grell.

"I don't think anyone has ordered for me before," Grell said, taking a dainty sip of water, "but it's a nice change. I love a man that takes charge."

"So I've heard," he replied with a mysterious smile.

Grell's smile slipped ever so slightly as she leaned forward. "I really do feel like I'm at such a disadvantage," she admitted, "You seem to know so much about me, but all I know about you is your name and that you're part of Upper Management."

He opened his hands as if to say his life was an open book. "What would you like to know?"

"When were you reborn?" she asked. It was an unusual question as reapers rarely spoke as if they had any life before their current existence, but it didn't seem to even faze her companion.

"Almost two centuries ago," he answered, "so, while I'm young, I'm still your senior." Although he had attempted to sound serious, it appeared that he was joking.

She was so surprised at this information that she didn't even remark on his senior comment. "How did you get to Upper Management so quickly?" she questioned, "I usually thought it took much longer."

"It usually does," he admitted, "but I was determined to make it. If I was going to be stuck working for all of this time, I at least wanted to be a success. What about you? I've seen you're grades. You could have moved on if you wanted to."

Before she could answer, their food arrived and Grell found herself very glad that she had let Michael order. She moaned at the tempting smells tickling her nose and couldn't help but smile when she caught a glimpse of Michael's face as he surveyed her performance. "Grade, dear," she corrected as she gathered her fork and knife. "I only really did well in Practical, and that is my area of expertise. No one can collect better records, but I rather despise all the tedious paperwork. Seems foolish if you ask me. I think I'd go crazy if I didn't get to go out into the field at least once in a while." She cut off a piece of the roast beef and took her first bite. The aroma hadn't prepared for the succulent taste that soon accosted her taste buds.

"I think you're being too modest," he replied, "No one had ever scored triple A's before in Practical, and I've seen some of the rather difficult assignments that have been sent your way. Could it be that you afraid to succeed?" He also began to eat, but his eyes didn't stray from her face as he waited for an answer.

She bristled slightly at the question. "Why would I be afraid of success?" she demanded, "Perhaps I'm simply not as career driven as you, but it doesn't make me some sort of failure." Quickly, she took a bite of potato, but she could feel her anger rising.

"I didn't mean anything," he said quickly, "Forgive me. I was just trying to tease. I guess I'm just a little embarrassed because I am a little career driven, just like you said." He looked down at his plate and poked at his food. "I think I'm just trying to make up for my own…past mistakes."

Swallowing, she looked at him directly as her anger faded almost as quickly as it has risen. "What past mistakes?" she asked quietly.

"The mistakes that led me here," he admitted, "The way I…ended my life."

A pregnant silence followed. All of the reapers knew who and what they were, but it was so rarely spoken aloud. It was just something that no one openly discussed even if the questions was on everyone's mind. "Oh," she finally said, "I don't really think about that very often."

"Do you remember?"

"Some of it," Grell replied, "but I don't have a lot of memories. I know the memories we do have are supposed to be punishment so we can only focus on those aspects we overlooked. Those things that we were blind to, but I don't remember much. So, I guess…" Her voice trailed off.

"That there wasn't a lot of good to your life?" he guessed.

She nodded, but she had trouble meeting his gaze. This was the first time she had ever voiced her own fears on the issue of her previous existence. She had even admitted it to Ronald, who had been rather open with her about his human life and subsequent suicide.

Michael sighed. "I remember my life," he said, "but there really wasn't much to it. I was a spoilt only child of overindulgent parents. I never had to struggle for anything, and I expected everything to just be handed to me. Then, there was that one thing I couldn't just have because of my name and money." He laughed bitterly. "I didn't even mean to actually kill myself," he explained, "I just wanted to scare everyone like some foolish, little boy. Apparently, suicide was something I actually did excel at."

She reached over and took his hand, which she found had begun to tremble. "I'm sorry," she said, "but you couldn't have been all that bad. You're just looking at yourself too harshly." Squeezing his hand, she regarded him with her warmest smile. "Thank you for sharing that," she whispered, "I was honest when I said I don't remember much, but I'll tell you my story one day – at least what I remember of it. It's really rather pathetic, but I'd be willing to tell you someday."

"Thanks," he said, as he wiped away a single tear. "Now that we've fully depressed ourselves, let's eat. I'm sorry this isn't much of a date."

"Actually," she stated, "this is probably the best date I've had in a long time."

The rest of their meal progressed in relative silence, but so much had been shared that there wasn't the need for very many words.

((x))

It was late when they returned to her apartment that night and the faux full moon of their world lit their way. "I had a lovely time, dear," she said, as she walked up to her door and turned to face him.

"I was scared I might have frightened you away with the way I was talking," Michael admitted, "but I enjoyed myself as well. I'd like to see you again."

"I'd like that," she responded softly, "Should I pop up to Upper Management one day and stop by your office when I'm ready?"

She had meant the question as a joke, but Michael actually looked a bit frightened by the response. "You shouldn't do that," he said.

"Why not?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it wouldn't be good if my superiors knew I was dating you," he explained.

The same familiar anger rose up within her, and she turned away suddenly as she reached into her pocket to retrieve her key. "Couldn't let them know you're dating a freak," she growled, "It probably hurt your precious career." Her hand was shaking so badly that she couldn't seem to fit her key into the hole.

"It's not that," he insisted, grabbing her arm and holding on even though she tried to jerk away. "We're just not supposed to date anyone below Upper Management. There are concerns that we could take advantage because of our positions. It's not that we don't have relationships with subordinates, but we have to be discreet."

She paused for a moment before glancing back over her shoulder. "You're not embarrassed of me?" she asked.

He took a step forward and turned her around so that she was in his arms. "Never," he whispered as he leaned forward to capture her lips.

It had been a long time, far too long, since anyone had last kissed her that she was almost afraid that she had forgotten how, but it was natural with Michael. He wasn't pushy, and the kiss remained chaste despite the passion bubbling beneath the surface. After a moment, he stepped back, but their eyes remained locked as Grell tried to desperately analyze the situation.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

She managed a slight smile. "Not this time, darling," she said.

He seemed surprised. "But why? I thought things were going great."

"Everything was great," she clarified, "but I do have to leave you with a little something to look forward to. Don't I? Besides, I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression."

"I already have a very favorable impression of you," he said, "I just want to get to know you better."

"And you'll have plenty to time to do just that," she responded, unlocking her door and stepping inside, "Good night, my handsome gentleman."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

She laughed lightly. "I'm very rarely serious about anything, dearie, but I'm deadly serious when it comes to matters of the heart. Besides, a lady must be very careful about whom she invites to her bed, despite what any of the rumors might say to the contrary."

"I never thought of you of anything less than a lady," he said. He stepped closer and ran his hand gently down her check. "Until later, my crimson beauty." With those words, he turned and slowly walked down the street.

She watched him walk away, and a part of her was tempted to call him back. In truth, she was a little hesitant when it came to intimacy since it meant revealing all of herself to another individual – to be judged and evaluated. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the physical aspects of a relationship for her passion was not something that she faked, but that first step was always the most precarious. Besides, if she gave into desires to quickly, it would only bolster her reputation as a tease and a strumpet.

Feeling warmer in her heart that she could ever remember, she stepped inside her apartment and closed the door. Perhaps her heart had finally found that thing she had so long been seeking. Perhaps, she had found love.