SMITTEN

AN: I don't own Kuroshitsuji, but Yana Toboso does. I want to marry her art, is that weird? Grell referred to with female pronouns. Little note that no two characters will talk in the same paragraph, a new one will always be taken. I have a nasty habit of breaking up character speech with a huge chunk of writing... I can't seem to break it.

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I feel like William's a dog person, and very very very closeted about it. If's there's going to be a character who likes dogs in Black Butler, I feel like it could be William. Another drabble gone wrong.

"Uh Grell, he's not going to let you keep her." Rookie Ronald Knox is saying as trots after his Senior Grell Sutcliff up the long and wide hallway. "There's something about dogs specifically not being allowed in the book of Shinigami Code of Conduct... or all animals I think? I actually dunno, I didn't really read it. Who's got time for that?" the blond looks very dubious as he scratches his head.

The ginger strides towards William T Spear's office with crisp clicking of her heels against the polished, pristine and white tiled floor, mentally preparing herself to argue Ronald and her out of more overtime. Even if the adorable but quaking little puppy in her arms was the reason they were late turning in their soul collections reports that afternoon, the little canine was also her weapon of choice in arguing them out of any punishments dealt out by her favourite icy supervisor. Ronald had a date tonight and Grell had a plethora of appointments made, nails, hair, a facial, a massage, they couldn't afford to be staying in work late. Not today. Not when she had a fish pedicure.

Holding the young Irish Setter out in front of her, Grell admires the sleek brown of her fur after the bath she was given. The redhead adores the faint tinge of red reflected from it in the light, colouring the pup truly charming copper. The toothy grin she gives the pup comes across as terrifying to the youngen and it causes her to whimper and lower her head, but Grell only coos affectionately and gives her tiny nose a smooch before tucking the puppy back into her arms.

Sparing Ronald a glance over her shoulder, the ginger shinigami smiles mischievously. "No dogs allowed, eh? Then why are you here?"

"Oi!" Ronald barks, squaring his shoulders as Grell cackles at look on his face. "You don't want to mess with me and my crew."

"Are you sure it's not the other way around? You're a witness to how thoroughly I can tear things up, after all." She challenges with a suggestive wink, and Ronald sighs dejectedly as they stop outside William's office door.

"My boys always sprint in the opposite direction when they see you coming, I suppose."

With a sympathetic pat to the head with her free head, puppy wriggling in her other arm, she smiles a sweet one at him. "One day they'll grow a spine, don't worry Ronnie. Then you'll be a real gang leader, just like you've always dreamed of."

And with that that she swings William's door open with more force than humanely necessary, causing it to hit the wall. Ronald and the puppy both flinch. William remains as stiff as ever, accustomed to everything startling about Grell.

"Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill my daaaaarling~"

Ronald takes a deep breath and straightens up, venturing inside behind the delighted redhead, not entirely ready to meet the cruel end to his relationship with Sarah from Accounting, propagated by the date he'll be missing tonight. If William is offering death then Ronald id totally on board with that, because, while he doesn't mean to be melodramatic, he cannot live on without his stunning and beautiful and smart and witty and- Well, Sarah.

It's almost as if Grell can read Ronald's mind when she shoves a bony elbow into his side to get his attention. "Chin up and cheer up. You'll get that shag in the end up." the elder hastily says to him under her breath, seemingly amused, grinning knowingly. "Big sis will work her magic~."

"I bloody hope so."

William T Spears sighs lowly and he closes his eyes at the flowery call of his name. Willing himself to find some patience deep within him, an artery throbs in his temple and he sets his pen neatly atop the paperwork he'd been filling in, not looking up as he hears two pairs of footsteps getting closer.

Then he smells it.

Dog.

Intrigue flushes his constant exhaustion at having to deal with Grell Sutcliff's shenanigans almost every day from his body, and his head snaps up so fast Ronald actually stumbles backwards and falls over with a curse.

"What is that?" Their raven haired superior asks calmly. Too calmly, Ronald thinks, when he sees how intense William is staring at the dog.

Angular, cold and framed eyes of emerald and topaz meet the rounded, innocent and warm brown eyes of the teensy weensy red setter supported by Grell's red clad arms, paws impatiently pawing at the red fabric of her sleeves with the want to explore her strange surroundings.

Fingers twitch in his gloves, and William has to speedily squish the urge to take the puppy from Grell then and there for a snuggle. He hadn't seen a dog since his days in the field... and good Lord, Grell wasn't nearly worthy enough to shower a dog with all the attention and affection it needed, nor was Grell a-

His eyes widen. This is highly irregular, to even think of acting so unprofessionally while in the office. He can't let a thing as tiny as that melt his heart and make him seem like he cares, not here in work, not even outside of the reaper realm. It would be the end of him if he gave his colleagues the impression there was a possibility he was softer than what meets the eyes...

But those puppy dog eyes begged him to be free from the loud and scary Grell Sutcliff. Or was William just imagining things, an excuse to take the dog off Grell sooner rather than later?

"She's my new companion, isn't she gorgeous Will?" the ginger exclaims after surveying him curiously for a moment, something suspicious flashing in her green eyes as she held the puppy out for the supervisor to see a bit closer. William hesitates looking directly at the dog... Grell didn't suspect he had a weakness for them did she? Had she already known before she'd walked into his office... had someone told her? If so, then who else knew?

When he only raises a brow at the puppy, saying nothing, neither approving of disapproving, Grell hugs the pup close against her chest and scratches her behind the ear, cooing and planting kisses on the top of her head. The little dog grumbles in her throat and relaxes immediately, pausing in trying to latch onto the chain of Grell's glasses with her teeth, stretching out her limbs and tilting her head into Grell's hand.

"I couldn't bear to walk past such a vulnerable, defensive little thing, hiding in an old wreck of a house, of all places!" Grell tells William, waltzing up to his desk and parking her arse right on it, much to William's chagrin as she continues on with a genuine fondness in her voice. "And when I saw such a beautiful little head poking out from the ruins, I was suddenly overwhelmed with this feeling of responsibility. I had to do something! Anything Will! So I whisked her up, realizing I must be her refuge from that cold, cruel and horrid human world. It's smelly," she lifts the dog to eye level, pouting at her. "Isn't it Sugar Cube?"

The puppy barks and wags her tail in response, not a care in the world that she's being manhandled a lot. Ronald notes she's warming up to Grell, so he swoops in and joins in the doting fest.

"Reaper Sutcliff, you ought to know that you and the definition of responsibility aren't compatible." William comments, as honest as be damned.

And the effect is instantaneous. Grell immediately puffs her cheeks out in a huff, protesting over how she'd make a great mother and an even better dog owner and "I babysit Ronald I deserve a bloody medal and a year long vacation to Hawaii" and suddenly Ronald's offended and he's arguing he's a blessing to this world because he paints the nails on her left hand and brings her coffee in the morning and then there was than one time he went as far as to give her that foot rub.

A throb in William's head and a twitch of an eyebrow later and William knows he has to interject now, or they'll be fighting for days.

"This... thing, is the reason you two neglected your deadline?" he prods, raising his voice over them to get their attention and looking between them. Grell mimics the puppy and looks at William innocently, sticking out her bottom lip and holding the puppy up beside her face for comparison. Ronald takes a good, large, obvious step back, as if it would save him from William's extendable scythe.

Heart clenched at calling the pup a thing, William feels terrible, but he had to lead Grell of his scent. She was looking at him as if she knew, waggling that puppy in his face, and William couldn't have that. "Overtime until 8:30 should be a sufficient amount of time to get the reports completed." Voice as chilly as ever and expression as nonchalant, he yanks his pen out from under Grell's arse before contemplating teasing the paperwork out too, instead he decides it's probably too risky.

Grell gapes and bristles. "But Wiiiiiiiill," she begins after she shares a look with Ronald. The young blond eyes are filled with injustice and warning and after one look at him, she gathers that she has to do the right thing.

With a sigh, her shoulders sag. She knows overtime with Ronald is much more bearable than overtime on her own, because he's an idiot who does idiotic things and she's also an idiot who does idiotic things, and they can both laugh at each other for doing idiotic things, but it has to be done. Tonight was an important night for the rookie, Grell knew this, more so than any other date he's been on. He was so very serious about this lovely girl which was a rare, strange, end of the world thing, considering he was Ronald Knox, a favourite among Dispatch's ladies and a man who exploits that in every way possible.

"Look Will, if you're going to dish out extra hours," Grell begins, crestfallen, lifting her feet up onto the desk and folding her legs, setting the puppy in them and she gives her a bully rub, and the puppy tries to roll over to chew the heel of her boot. "At least put them on my record. Ronnie was only sticking to me because I'm his senior. He did tell me to stop countless times, let him off the hook?"

And William knows he has already lost when Grell makes the same face the dog is making at him - Because of course Grell isn't the one swaying William. (or is she?)

Two sets of sad eyes gaze at him (the dog apparently wants her belly scratched more) and he stiffens in his office chair before getting to his feet with a sigh and an adjustment to his glasses. Approaching the door he holds it open for Ronald to leave. "Knox, you're dismissed. Sutcliff, get off my desk, straighten the paperwork you just displaced and remain."

Ronald dashes out the door before William can change his mind, calling his thanks over his shoulder as he zooms down the hall and around the corner. William is left in his dust, he blinks once before clearing his throat and closing the door, adjusting his suit as he turns to confront Grell over the fact keeping a puppy or dog or any animal of any age was against shinigami law, as unfair as it was.

And he stiffens in surprise to turn around, scythe in hand, only for a puppy to be immediately shoved into his gloved palms. The scythe clatters to the floor, and he finds himself disarmed.

Grell rubs up against his side and fawns at the little dog, chin resting on William's shoulder as she babbles at the dog with things like "Don't be afraid, it's only chilly Willy~ He's not as bad as you think." and, "Show him who's boss, Sugar Cube, nip at his fingers until he lets me keep you."

But the dog just stares up at him, small tail slowly beginning to wag as a deeply conflicted crease forms in William's brow, which doesn't go unnoticed by Grell.

"You're aware animals aren't allowed to be kept in this realm-"

"Which is infuriating!" Grell fumes passionately, hand sneakily traversing William's forearm as he holds the puppy at arm's length, other hand squeezing his shoulder through his suit. The little dog twists her head and licks at William's glove, giving a tiny bark. Grell whines sadly at the cute display of affection, she's gotten attached to the little thing and had been deadly serious about keeping her from the moment she saw her. It would be a shame if she couldn't convince William to let her do so.

"She needed rescued, a good home. And I was just thinking that my house is far too big for just me. And then there's Jonathan up the road who's pawning dismantled scythe parts in the human realm, did you know about that Will? There's a law against pets, pets that can only bring good to the world, but no laws condoning the leakage of advanced machinery, away ahead of time, into the mortal world? The injustice of it all makes me weep!"

Melodrama in her voice and actions aside, Grell had a point. William didn't quite understand the significance of that rule. It was the only thing that stood between him and, as much as he struggled to admit to admit it to himself, heaven.

"I appreciate you making me aware of his business in the human world Sutcliff." William says plainly. "I'll be bringing his dealings up with the Higher Ups. I'm sure they'll be eager to know what he's been getting up to."

"But you didn't hear it from me, okay?" Grell adds hastily with a flail of a hand, smiling at William regretfully. "Nobody wants a reputation of a tattle-tale, it'll stop people telling me their deepest, darkest secrets! I need to know the grittiest and dirtiest of dirt for when things get ugly in the office."

William raises a brow, listening, but remains silent, staring at the dog in his hands.

"So can that be a little secret between us?"

Giving her a brief glance, he nods stiffly, and they both lapse into silence. Rather, Grell does, considering William isn't the type for unnecessary conversation. She notices he still isn't cradling the dog properly, holding her as if she's carrying some sort of contagious disease, and the red shinigami throws her head back in exasperation.

"For goodness sake William she's small and a bit on the bony side, yes, but not so delicate that she has to be held like that, here,"

And Grell plucks the puppy from his hands to rest her properly in William's arms, despite William's objection that he didn't want dog hair on his suit. Grell was no fool, that excuse was complete rubbish. She'd known William far too long to overlook the fact his eyes showed more emotion in the presence of a dog than any reaper ever to have met him. She's been on the field with him before, during the early days of their employment, fresh rookies and mediocre at everything they did, and she had noticed how his attention would wander when a dog was nearby. He would turn his back and walk in the opposite direction, but Grell has always had a sneaky suspicion that if William didn't have such a cold, cruel reputation to uphold, he'd throw himself at the dogs of the world and let them smother him with licks and canine kisses, bury himself under a pile of dogs.

"See? Much better~" she smiles and claps her hands together in glee. "If she bites, it'll only tickle."

She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a chuckle, having heard a rumour that the infamous Sebastian was much the same with cats. She chuckles outright picturing the horror on William's face if she ever dared suggest that they had a few similarities, William and Sebastian.

"This is hardly funny, Sutcliff. If you keep this dog you'll be violating the rules." he says, and while his voice is stony and drop dead serious, it sounds to her like the words don't taste right on his tongue. Turning his head slightly to gaze cryptically at her, but eyes a little bit warmer as he watches her long lashes flutter as she looks him up and down, he waits to see what she has to say to argue her case. He wants her fuel him, to convince him thoroughly that this was a rule worth breaking.

Grell pauses, savouring the change in William's demeanour. While Baltic cold William gets her all hot and bothered, gentle William is someone she hasn't really considered before. They make eye contact, faces closer than they've been in a long time, and Grell quickly diverts her eyes to the red setter in his arms. She smiles, what a lucky dog she is, and who she would love to trade places with her.

"So you're saying I should abandon this poor defenceless and lonely creature, leave her to be swept up in the bitter winds of the world when there's no need for her to suffer?" she asks, astonished, and when she looks at him again she notices William's glasses have slipped down his nose. Reaching over, she pushes the frames up for him figuring his arms were too full of pup. Dainty leather clad fingers brush his cheek guilelessly as her hand retreats, a simple touch unlike her usual rambunctious self.

And it dawns on William that in moments like this, Grell isn't such horrible company. Then he starts at even considering she was pleasant. The dog senses the tension in William's limbs and perks up, nudging at his palm to encourage William to focus on her, to take his mind of whatever it is bothering him.

Too close, William thinks, Grell's been too close to him for far too long, and he's trying to forget the sweet smell of her perfume, of flowers... Orange lilies and red roses... and the heat, the toasty heat of the colour red warming his side, and...

Stepping away and shaking her hands from him, he makes the point of walking the whole way to the window to put distance between them.

Peering over the top of her glasses she twirls long strands of red around her fingers. "You really do love dogs, don't you Will?"

"Not in the slightest." He lies coolly, finally having given in to pampering the dog in his arms. He scratches under her chin and a tongue falls from her mouth in her bliss. The longer he scratches for, the more her eyelids began to fall. Just watching an animal so endearing and harmless relaxes his face and eases knots upon knots of stress he didn't know had built up in his chest.

"Don't get used to this." He murmurs.

There's no doubting that with the right owner and a good life, she'd grow into a fine, beautiful and healthy working dog one day. William would like to see it. It's unfortunate he won't.

"You aren't fooling anyone." Grell counters with a small grin, hand on her hip as she pops it with a tapping foot.

"... they're strange creatures." is all he provides Grell with.

"For the sake of Sugar Cube's self esteem, you're a strange creature and that doesn't stop me from loving you."

And here was William thinking physical distance would solve all of his issues involving Grell. The implication behind her words was sickeningly sweet, William didn't do sickeningly sweet, and he knew Grell wasn't the type either. That's what he convinced he was surprised over, Grell's sweet side, considering under the flamboyance and theatrics she was a flawed, bitter and jealous Grim Reaper, harbouring an impulsive and bloodthirsty nature. A nature that didn't couple up so well with the immoral nature of a Grim Reaper.

He wasn't surprised at the mentions of her love in such a mature, serious tone. She wasn't flinging herself over his shoulders, or declaring her adoration loudly down a long corridor filled with dozens of reapers. It seemed much less phony secluded like this and with their present tone of conversation. (But he is surprised, very much so, because when he thinks of Grell, he thinks of her many fickle infatuations and fancies too. And attempting to consider that her infatuation with him wasn't as fickle as it seemed was difficult for the dark haired supervisor.)

Setting the puppy on the floor, he watches her scamper towards Grell with the soft pitter-patter of clawed paws sliding across tiles, rather than fill the silence with conversation. He won't thank her for her words, nor will he reprimand her. Her flirting and infatuation with him doesn't bother him half as much when they're alone, so he decides he'll let her interpret the silence as she wants.

(Because he doesn't know how he feels about Grell anymore. He's no longer disgusted at her infatuation like he had been at the beginning. He had never harboured a feeling so strong or worthy of being called hatred towards her, but he had initially disliked her, and funnily enough, she had disliked him too. Now? He supposes he is passive when things involve Grell, in a grey area, if not a smidgen of attached... Because he would probably be left with too much free time as the desk if she disappeared, and too much of a monotonous routine... and he was very lost in his head now, wasn't he?)

(Give them another century and Grell will have her way with William, and William will want it just as much as Grell's been pining for him over the decades.)

When the puppy halts, it's at Grell's shoes. The ginger doesn't seem to mind when she starts tugging on her pant leg or chewing on the leather of her favourite boots. The display is endearing enough to make her giggle.

"How can anyone abandon such a sweet thing."

"Indeed. " William agrees and then says out of the blue while straightening up his back and dusting off his suit, "Surely you've got enough of a heart to look after her well. And I suppose you'll have to find some form of responsibility and sense from somewhere within you, then."

Grell murmurs that she certainly can find those from somewhere until she does a very comedic double take and whips her head around in a flurry of red hair. "Whaaaaaa?!" she cries in shock, reading between the lines. "Are you seriously, bloody, honestly, implying I can keep her!?"

"I can pull a few strings here and there, yes." he says plainly, gazing out the window rather than at Grell and her gaping.

And he grunts in surprise when he's tackled by a lithe body, both of them tumbling to the floor. A stack of books is tipped over as they fall, William's elbow catching on the side of them, followed by the thuds and clatters of stationary boxes and a carting trolley being knocked over like dominos. The supervisor can feel a flush building on his neck as Grell squeals and dots his face in gleeful and grateful red lipped kisses, and they're joined by the slobbery lapping of a puppy's tongue, coating his faces his face and hair in dog-breathed saliva.

"Is everything alright in-!"

After opening the door with imminent terror (it was William's office, everybody on their floor hated the Arctic vibe it radiated, even the most respectable of seniors who had nothing to fear) and anxiety coated indecision, the speechlessness Senior Alistair Savannah developed at finding William T Spears on the floor, dishevelled and red faced, decorated in lipstick with Dispatch's nightmare Grell Sutcliff straddling his hips as a puppy licked around his ears was warranted.

What wasn't warranted were the rumours spreading around the following morning, conveniently leaving out the part about the puppy. And Grell would add fuel to the fire by being extra suggestive and extra flirty, only to quell any of William's concerns with promises to let him babysit the dog, which they had named together as Rusty, (Sugar Cube was a genuine suggestion by Grell) whenever she was (or even when she wasn't) busy, she even promised William he could have the dog all day on Sunday and William's babysitting began that night, with Grell huffing and puffing in cubicle during overtime hours as William neglected all of his paperwork, giving a clueless puppy a tour of Dispatch with every errand he ran.

It was the beginning of the end for William, and surprisingly he was okay with that.

lol unoriginal idea was unoriginal and bad boring writing was bad and boring, but I'm challenging myself this summer by trying to post more stuff and improve, so here you go! If you liked it please let me know! I kinda want to continue on with this and turn it into domestic Grelliam for everyone to cringe at (But I'll definitely have to learn to cut down on the unnecessary stuff, oh my word) For now it's a one shot though.

I can't believe I wrote a story of 4,000 words and literally nothing happens apart from William meeting a dog.

I actually dunno how I messed up intended the Grelliam vibe so much, but I did. Will is far to soft and Grell, too subdued. Urrrrgh characters are hard to write and get right.

Thanks you for reading! If you did make it to the end you deserve so many awards, my writing's so bad. I'm sooooooooooooooorry.