*~*Wow, has it been three years since I last wrote fanfiction? Yes, yes it has. Hopefully my writing isn't too rusty. I know it's way past Valentine's Day but this (very) short fic came to me while I waited for work.*~*
The Box
William comes into his office to find a mysterious red box.
"To My Darling, William on Valentine's Day, Love Grell."
William's eyebrow twitched in irritation as he read the card in the box that sat on his desk. He should have known who it was from just by the colour of the box. William half hoped that with all the overtime he had given Sutcliff that the sad excuse for a reaper would forget about the holiday, but it seemed that was too much to ask for. At least it was just a seemingly plain, ordinary box, filled with some unknown gift and not the reaper himself dressed in some ridiculous, not to mention inappropriate outfit. Spears shook his head at the thought and a light shade of pink dusted his cheeks, quickly turned to anger at even entertaining such a ludicrous notion that he may even have had the slightest enjoyment in such thinking. After all, Sutcliff was nothing but a nuisance. He picked up the box and tossed it into the wastebasket beside his desk and got to work.
At least, he tried, but after a while his mind went back to the mysterious box and what may lie within. Chocolates? Not unless it was the smallest box of chocolates ever created. If it was too small for chocolates then it was, thankfully, too small for Grell to be laying in wait to pop out and surprise him, which was absurd to think, in any case. Besides, Sutcliff was out on collections. William once again shook his head and went back to work, and with determination he did manage to forget about the tiny box, working late into the evening.
Once he dotted his last "i" and crossed his last "t", it was time to clock out. He reached over and switched off the desk lamp and stood, retrieving his jacket. Straightening it on his person he glanced over at the wastebasket and noted it was empty. He had been so caught up in his work he had not noticed the cleaning lady come in to straighten his office. Not that it ever really needed it as William T. Spears was one to keep his office as neat as a pin, unlike some other members in the Dispatch that he could mention. He silently congratulated himself as he left his office and started down the hall. He had wanted to forget about it and he had. But then why was curiosity setting in again and perhaps a hint of regret? Too late to find out now.
There's still time. Garbage won't be collected until morning. His inner voice argued. He adjusted his glasses and headed to the nearest exit and around to the back of the building where the dumpsters sat. What would his colleagues say if they saw William T. Spears poking around in a dumpster with his death scythe? Undoubtedly the improper use of a death scythe would be one thing mentioned. But it was either that, or strip his jacket and tie and go dumpster diving. By the time he sighted the blasted thing, however, he was almost prepared to. Thankfully this dumpster mostly contained discarded papers. William quickly stuffed it into his coat pocket with a nervous glance, wondering if he had been seen. Adjusting his glasses, he turned and headed for home.
TBC? What's in the box? I already have a sequel brewing in my mind. Let me know if you want me to continue and I shall see what I come up with.