Bodies were bumping and grinding together in what they called dancing as the deafening music blasted throughout the nightclub. Glow sticks waved about in the air, reapers celebrating the coming new year. It had been a stressful month. A stressful year, and William T. Spears desperately needed to unwind with a good stiff drink. Just one or two and he would be out of this obnoxious atmosphere.
He was about halfway through his first when he was joined suddenly by Knox, Slingby, and Humphries. "Where is Sutcliff?" he questioned, surprised but relieved the red reaper wasn't with them.
"Over there dancing," replied Ronald with a vague gesture towards the mob of people moving about. "Having a grand old time I suspect."
William looked towards the reapers moving against each other, eventually spotting the mane of red hair moving about in the crowd. He was entranced momentarily by the hypnotic swaying of Grell's slender hips. William shook his head and returned to his drink. He couldn't deny Grell was an attractive looking being and every year he found it harder to resist redhead's advances. He was also finding it harder to find an excuse.
Slingby slouched back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head and sighing in relief. "Bloody hell, what a week."
"Language," William chided.
"I'm just grateful we get a chance to relax, if only for a moment," said Alan. "Are you certain we are not imposing, Mr. Spears?"
"I do not recall being asked in the first place if you could join," he replied.
Ronald downed the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down on the table. "A drinking game then!" he said avidly. "You win, we leave. We win, we stay."
"Absolutely n-"
"Sounds like fun," Interrupted Eric loudly.
"I suppose it could be," agreed Alan.
"How about 'Most Likely'?" suggested Ronald.
"Most Likely?" inquired William.
"Ah, it's real simple," said Eric. "We take turns asking random shite of who would most likely do such and such. Then we all point to who we think would do it. Ya have ta take a drink fer every finger pointed at ya."
The feeling this was a bad idea, niggled at the back of his mind, but William agreed. "Very well. Who goes first?"
"Why don't you go first, boss?" suggested Ronald.
William took a moment while he thought. "Who would most likely not do their paperwork properly?"
"Ready?" said Eric, then he and Ronald counted to three. The poll was split. Half the group pointed to Ronald while the other half pointed to Eric. Each took their shots and the game continued. They took turns asking. Mostly mundane things at first, such as who would steal someone's lunch from the icebox. It occurred to William that they hadn't stated how they would determine a winner, but he continued playing, assuming whoever got drunk first would be the loser.
"Hmmm..mmosst likely," said Ronald, slurring his words, "to give overtime."
Naturally, all fingers pointed to William. He wasn't sure if it was legal, but it was the truth, thus William pointed at himself. The next several questions asked by Eric and Ronald were all things William would most likely do. William was too hammered by this point to care. The questions, however, eventually turned to those of his relationship with Grell. Did he really hate Grell? What were his true feelings on the matter? And the like.
"I do!" William insisted after being asked how much he likes Grell. "I looo-like Ssssut…Grell."
"Then prove it," Eric challenged.
"Prove you have feelings for Grell," input Ronald.
"Alright, I will!" Stumbling, William got to from the table. The others followed suit and all various degrees of drunk, William being most drunk. He went to the dance floor, Grell noticed him before he noticed Grell.
"Happy New Year, darling~" he greeted, having had a few drinks himself and wondering if he'd be able to sneak a kiss at midnight.
"Ssutcliff. I have something to say you to," said William as he staggered a bit closer.
Grell's eyes gleamed with mischief as he noted William's drunken state. "Yes, darling?" Grell asked with faux innocence.
William pulled Grell close and planted a sloppy kiss on the other's lips. Eric whooped while Ronald criticized. "What was that?! You call that proof?!" Meanwhile, Grell's mind had momentarily short circuited.
"What do you suggest then?" William asked.
"Ah! Sss!" William exclaimed and hissed as the needle moved about his shoulder. Grell watched on in adoration as the tattoo artist applied his trade. A heart with Grell and William's scythes forming the bottom of the heart. A ribbon wrapped around the bottom of the heart with the words, "I love Grell" written inside.
"My darling, so brave and so manly," Grell cooed.
"There!" said William triumphantly, showing off the finished tattoo. "Proof that I love Grell!"
"He said it!" squealed Grell.
"He said it!" gasped the others while Grell kissed William.
"What do you say we make this a private party?" Grell asked in a sultry manner.
In a tangled mess, the two ported into William's apartment, exchanging passionate kisses. This was a special occasion! Grell declared when they paused for air. And special occasions needed champagne. However, by the time Grell returned with the alcohol, William had passed out. Grell pouted when he came back and saw his love passed out on the floor. "Can't a lady catch a break?" She sighed wistfully before blowing him a kiss. "Until next time, darling," Grell said. "I will have you next time."