Dear William,

While I love your Victorian style of life, I would love to show you that romance is more than a bare ankle being flashed in the bedroom. A lace handkerchief can be used for other means besides wiping one's nose, socks are not just for one's feet, and ribbons are not just for one's hair. While a man's wallet may be pleased by working overtime, a young couple can be pleased by working overtime too…in a very different, yet far better, way.

Looking forward to our Valentine's Day off,

An Admirer

...

William T. Spears read this note over several times carefully before he let it flutter down onto his desk in shock. Reapers flashed through his mind, possible suspects who could have written this, but none would have panned out. Grell was too mouthy and proud to send anonymous notes, Ronald was spending his Valentine's Day with several ladies (and he had bragged multiple times of how he pulled that one off), Othello was working the long shift on that day (but would be off after eight that night), as was everyone else William could think of, and the only clue left in the letter was that the admirer and he had the same day off.

Therefore, William found himself blushing furiously as he flipped through the schedules of the reaper dispatch, finding out who worked what hours, and tried to find out who had this handwriting. It looked familiar. But not only was he curious, he wanted to know who the hell wrote this kind of risqué, inappropriate content that lay hidden behind the lines.

He wanted to know who the hell would care about him enough to want to do any of these things.

An hour later, between the paperwork he already had to do and the personal task of finding out who wrote this letter, a knock came at his door.

"Enter," He snapped crisply.

(Y/n) came in and shut the door behind her. "Sir," She started while something else about her caught his eye, "The reports from last night are in."

What about (Y/n) was so different?

"Grell killed two more women and one man on his own accord at separate times, leaving two of the bodies on Baker Street and taking the heads to the nearest graveyard."

It wasn't her uniform, although she needed to button that top button at her chest.

"He took the third body, the man, and stripped him naked…"

It wasn't her make-up, although her eyes stood out with that new eyeliner for sure…

"…He made sure the heads were set in a way so that they were watching..."

And that lipstick went very well with her skin type and uniform too, it stood out in a flattering way.

"…Poor Ronald found Grell in the act of taking off his own pants too and…"

It was her hair!

"…So naturally Ronald threw up…"

It had ribbons in it today!

"…So he has been placed on leave until the counseling sessions are over, as you may imagine…"

She looked absolutely beautiful with them too, the ribbons held her hair in intricate patterns that William did not know anyone could do on their own.

"…Grell had unintentionally snorted what we believe to be multiple cleaning fluids up his nose in the midst of battling with that demon Sebastian again, both nostrils were bleeding…"

Her lips looked so plump…

"Grell has also been placed on leave for the rest of the month while he is put into a rehabilitation center for—sir?"

William did not realize he had stood up and approached her until she snapped him out of his thoughts. He blushed and took a step back, looking anywhere but her eyes. "My apologies, Miss (Y/n). Your…The state of your uniform caught me off guard."

"Oh?" She blinked slowly, giving him what he believed to be a borderline sultry look.

"You are not supposed to have ribbons holding your hair like that, as the dress code states."

"Well what else are ribbons for?" She blinked again, feigning innocence.

"Why don't you tell me?" He took a step towards her again.

"You're the boss and I'm the secretary, why don't you tell me?"

"Well I was under the impression ribbons are not just for one's hair, as a lace handkerchief is not just for one's nose."

Her eyes lit up in recognition for a split moment before she returned to a neutral expression. "Socks are not just for one's feet either."

He grabbed her by the waist as she grabbed him by his shoulders. "You naughty wench," William whispered.

"Perverted manager," (Y/n) whispered in return.

"You wrote that letter!"

"And you weren't supposed to read it until tonight, someone must have delivered it early on accident."

"Lucky us," He leaned forward and kissed her lipstick-clad lips as hard as she kissed him, and it was wrong how right it felt.

He picked her up and sat her on his desk, where between kissing they both knocked over the many papers and writing utensils to the ground. William stripped off his pants first while she took off her skirt, then jacket, and he only bothered with his boxers next before ripping off her panties himself. She laid down on the desk while he stood above her, flushed red and hard already. His hips drew back to enter her, and—

...

(Y/n) woke up with a snort, jumping in surprise at whatever had woken her up. She looked around her small office area, but found nothing and no one that would have awakened her. The bustling of reapers outside her office still sounded loudly, but nobody was at her door. She must have woken up before the Dream William could hurt her (but the feeling between her legs at the moment hurt enough).

The reaper secretary of William T. Spears quickly hopped out of her seat and made sure her door was locked before running back to her desk for William's Valentine she had yet to send to his office. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and she would make sure William spent it with her. In the meantime, (Y/n) would come back from delivering it to have some fun on her own with that dildo in the desk drawer. It was all she could make due with for now.