Maut is carrying a secret flame for his English co-star, the girl who plays Mandy. AU, Mandy/Grim (as Maut/Evie.)

A/N – I was watching one of the episodes where Grim speaks off camera, telling Billy he's not in this scene. I had a sudden vision of the cast as supernatural actors. Maut comes from Malak al-Maut which is arabic for "Angel of Death." I think it sort of suits him.

I originally posted this as part of my Billy and Mandy short fiction, but then decided it was out of place there and really deserves to stand alone. Enjoy!

Good Advice

Maut's shadow crept ahead of him, laying itself gently on Evie's bare nape. He saw her goosepimple. His creepiness came naturally. Maybe that was why he was so good at playing Grim. Maut shed his multicoloured wool coat with its colourful dangling tassels and bone toggles and draped it around his diminutive co-star with a bony smile that she turned just in time to see.

'Thanks,' she smiled at him, making him feel warm and welcome. He lounged in the directors empty chair, his long, bony legs crossed at the ankle, his very real scythe leaning against the studio wall behind him. He'd just gotten out of his costume, and morphed himself back into his usual shape. His salt and pepper goatee tickled his chest, tangling in the bone-charm that hung around his neck to ward off even greater evils than he.

Evie pulled the coat closer as if she was cold. He didn't mind the temperature. He didn't have any living flesh to chill. And he liked how it looked on her. It made him think of lending her other things. Like shirts. And boxers. After he'd torn her usual clothes off.

Yer sick monsta, he thought. Somethin's wrong with yer paranormal brains! Girl's as innocent as they come.

Maut knew she'd never even been kissed. She'd told him one night when they were both drunk.

'Yer not getting' out of costume, then?' he asked.

'I'm still waiting,' she sighed, still in the shape of Mandy, though she'd stopped faking her American accent. 'Not like I need to rush now anyway. I'm stranded. My last train home just got cancelled.'

Maut envisioned her walking off into the dark alone and his ancient bones chilled. He wasn't going to let her, but how to say that without sounding like a creepy, lecherous old corpse?

'What yer gonna do, child?'

'I don't know. Everyone's gone home...the office is closed. I don't think I'm getting a hotel room now, put it that way. I'll have to call my Dad. He'll kill me.'

Maut knew all about her Dad. She'd told him that too. He liked to knock her about, especially if he thought she'd been around boys. Every time Maut saw her red-rimmed eyes and hunched posture, he wanted to strangle the wretch into his grave.

'Yer could stay at mine?' Maut offered, trying to sound casual. 'I mean...what're friends for, right?'

'Won't your wife mind?' Evie asked nervously.

A single encounter with Maut's harpy ex had been enough to scare Evie under the carpet, which Maut knew the old bat had done because she could tell he liked the girl. A lot. His expression darkened to match his mood.

'That witch can stick it where the sun don't shine, child! The house is mine, fair and legal. I can do what I want with it.'

Evie looked scared.

'Listen,' Maut leaned in, softening his voice deliberately. 'She got no reason to come visitin' tonight. Tomorrow, I'll bring yer back safe and sound. Yer trust me, don't yer, sweet?'

She flushed pink, just the way he liked.

'I don't want you to get into trouble!' she protested.

'I can take care of meself, child,' he winked.

Evie made her fingers into claws, smirking. 'You're a brave man.'

Maut chuckled. 'Meet me outside, then.'

oOo

Maut's bony jaw nearly hit his kneecaps when Evie shut the firedoor on her way to his sporty black number, which growled idly in waiting. Skinny, porcelain, beautiful Evie. Maut had memorised her features. Her blue eyes, her slightly off-center nose. He didn't dare tell her how he really felt. They had to work together, and at barely twenty she was just so young. She clambered in, her knee length pleated skirtriding up over stockings. Her frilly cream blouse was like something out of the sixties. Probably her Dad's guidance. Maut knew her Dad kept her under lock and key when she wasn't at the studio, as if he was afraid someone would steal her. It made Maut sick to think of her life going to waste. He pulled away into the streetlamp glow with heightened awareness of the girls perfumed presence.

Chopping veg with supernatural accuracy, Maut listened with one ear-hole open to her phonecall. Her Englist accent sent ripples of pleasure up his spine.

'No, Daddy. I'm totally safe, I promise. With the guy who plays Grim. No, he's nice - OK, Daddy,' she sounded hurt. Maut resolved to keep out of it, but the kitchen knife was starting to feel just nice in his hand. 'No, Daddy. You don't need to. I start at six AM-' her voice faltered, then she added, in a tone like a scolded child; 'Sorry, Daddy.'

Maut peeked through the door frame crack. Evie was hunched over, her handbag on her knees.

'B-But Daddy, won't you be too tired? I'll be OK. He's divorced. No, Daddy-'

She put the phone down and put her head down on her hand. After a minute of staring at his dour window dressings, she wandered into the kitchen.

'Can I help?'

'Sure,' he handed her a knife and carrots. 'So...is everyting OK?'

Her confidence seemed to tremble like her hands. Maut felt his eyebrow ridge climb. He hated to see the girl upset.

'N-No. Not really,' she avoided his sockets, angrily chopping carrots. 'I'm really sorry. He's coming to get me.'

Maut prickled with disappointment. Evie missed her thumb the knife by a nails width.

'Be careful!' he said. 'Or yer'll be a finger short.'

Her lip wobbled. She sat down on a kitchen stool with a thump and buried her face in her hands. Her glorious hair flowed around her fingers like a river of living oil that Maut desperately wanted to touch. He noticed the bruise on her spine. His spectral blood heated to fever pitch.

'I can't take it anymore, Maut,' she finally sobbed.

His bones rattled as he shook in rage.

'I'm such a crybaby. And I'm dumping on you. I'm so sorry.'

Maut leaned his bony hip on the countertop, trying to ignore his flaring temper long enough to make sense.

'Me Dad was a drunk. Knocked Ma so hard it nearly killed her.'

'I'm sorry,' she said dejectedly.

'When I moved out, got married, I swore I wouldn't repeat his mistakes. Well. One Christmas eve...me got drunk. Harpy opened her gob, as she liked ter when she was pissed, and guess what me did?'

'You didn't,' Evie whispered.

'It's me own fault she filed for divorce, but for all the times I hit her, child, she did worse to me in other ways. Find yer way out and take it. Yer Daddy's love ain't always enough. If his behaviour don't match it, don't wait around till the day yer realise...he'll give yer love with his left,' Maut held up his clenched fist. 'And take away yer self respect with his right.'

Evie's eyes were pink-rimmed. 'But he needs me,' she whispered.

'Right,' Maut nodded darkly. 'He needs yer because yer don't cry to the law. Yer cry to me. But what good can me do? Unless yer want me to scare him to death?'

'No,' she said quietly.

Maut took her hand. 'Yer still trust me, child?'

She nodded. 'More fool me, right?'

'Not exactly. The woman was trying to cut me...sensitives...off at the time.'

Maut waited for an angry knock on the door, but the man had the gall to honk the horn at 1am and wait without even a word of thanks for Maut's timely intervention in her safety. On her way out, Evie hugged Maut, kissing his cheek. He felt her breath stir his beard and wanted to kiss her lips so badly it hurt.

'Just yer remember, child. Yer need him scared, yer come to me,' he said, holding her tiny waist in both hands. She was so small that his fingers nearly touched.

'Thank you,' she whispered, flushing in a way Mandy never did.

Reluctantly, he let her go.

'Goodnight,' she said, slipping outside. Maut touched his cheek, his heart on fire, his skin cold, his bones trembling. Dis is torture.

oOo

Maut's depression was countered by a sudden lift in Evie's spirits. She started styling her hair differently and painting her nails cherry red. She didn't stoop so much anymore, and he stopped seeing bruises. She bubbled around the studio. Maut began to wonder if she'd found a secret boyfriend. If he'd had any skin, it would have crawled off his bones in disgust at the idea of sweet little Evie in the arms of a sweaty, muscle-bound jock.

At the buffet, Maut picked up a man-sized club sandwich and a bumper bag of crisps to dull his pain. Why do I always fall for the ones I can't have?

Evie slid onto the bench beside him and pinched a crisp, smirking.

'It's supposed to be Valentines Day!' she complained. 'Where's all the chocolate? You'd think they'd splash out a bit. Tight wads.'

Maut was feeling more and more like Grim every day. 'Somebody's in a good mood today.'

She leaned in.

'I took your advice,' she searched his uplit blue sockets.

The dressing gown she wore on set whenever she shapeshifted out of Mandy's body had been upgraded. The new one was covered in printed cherries. Maut's bones fizzed and prickled with desire.

'How'd that go?' he asked.

'I bought my own flat,' she bubbled. 'And moved out. So now I can quit that stupid church, drink what I want...and date who I want.'

Maut didn't want to think about her doing ANY of that.

'I'm happy for yer, sweet.'

'I don't even know where to start,' she admitted, sounding daunted. He remembered feeling like that when he moved out too. 'But...I might have found an answer to the date problem.'

Maut's very bones chilled. O' course, he thought. A pretty little thing like dat would have found a man already.

'Really?' he asked, unhappily.

Maut jumped as Evie touched his chin. Then he went hot as she traced his bony mouth with her toasty warm finger. His backbone turned into wet sponge and he melted as she kissed him on the mouth.

'Happy Valentines Day,' she whispered, sounding hopeful.

'But...' he sputtered. 'Me? Are yer mad? Are yer teasin' me, woman?'

'No. I mean it,' she said seriously. Maut couldn't see a scrap of dishonesty in her ocean eyes. He started to grin, wrapping his arms around her.

'Oh, sweet. If yer wanted ter play with fire...why didn't yer just say so?'

'I AM saying so,' Evie grinned, pulling him down by his coat. Maut thrust his hungry finger bones into her hair, his bony body on fire as she kissed back like the virgin she was. He memorised her taste, revelled in the way she explored his tongue, as though she was trying to figure out what felt good. Then Maut heard a strange noise. It sounded like...cheering? Cat calls? Clapping?

'Finally!' someone yelled.

'Get a room!'

Maut separated himself from Evie, his face fiery. The crew were watching. The director had put his precious clipboard down to clap. The cameramen wolf whistled from the back, and the whole cast of kids giggled and pointed, making obscene smooching sounds. Evie blushed. Taking her gently by the waist, Maut dipped her over backwards and kissed her giggling lips as the iphones flashed.

END