AN: Hi, guys! :83 This is a side project I'm working on to keep myself from going insane with school. I don't know how regular updates will be, but I do have a good portion of the plot for this planned out. I hope you guys like the story, and I would love some feedback or suggestions-just post a review or PM me. Enjoy!
Winter in London was hell on earth, as far as any shinigami was concerned. The season itself was overtime waiting to happen—freezing temperatures, icy roads and bridges, and vicious storms swept the chilly streets of London, prompting more accidents—and a flood of souls in need of reaping. Most shinigami preferred to return straight home after work and get what little sleep they could, but one fairly tame night (weather-wise), two reapers could be found sitting and chatting loudly in a bar, surrounded by empty mugs of beer. Both were blonde, one tall and powerfully built, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his tie loosened, his dress shirt untucked and rumpled as he relaxed and forgot about the stress of the season. The other, a little shorter and more lithe in build, was still fairly presentable—shoes shining in the dim light of the bar despite the muddy London streets, dress slacks and suit pressed and free of creases, and glasses squarely balanced on the bridge of his nose, not threatening to slip off, unlike like the other reaper's.
He turned to the taller man. "And then," he stuck out his lower lip, puffing up his cheeks like a small child, "he says he needs the reports by tomorrow. All of them!" The blonde shinigami downed his mug of beer, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the bar. "So I pull four hours of overtime, and I'm five minutes late—he saw me working the entire time!—and then he made me go and do paperwork in his office to make up for not getting everything in on time. The man's a slave driver, Eric!"
His companion looked up from his own beer, eyes hazy with intoxication. "…Yeah, that's William, all right. But he's never been that harsh on me… Did you do something to piss him off, Ron…?" With a disheartened sigh, Eric went back to staring at his drink.
The younger reaper ran a hand through his hair, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. "I dunno… I don't think so, though. Ever since Grell pulled that pole-dancing stunt in the middle of the library last week, he's been in a really bad mood." He let out a weak chuckle, interrupted halfway through by a yawn. "So what's with you? You've had maybe ten beers already, and said about three words all night." He turned toward the older reaper, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "You wouldn't be thinking about a certain little brunette, would—hey!" Ronald's taunt was cut short as Eric cuffed him with his mug of beer, spilling some on the shorter blonde. He sat there, shocked, staring at the amber liquid dripping all over his white dress shirt, and finally sighed, shrugging his shoulders in defeat and smiling at his fuming friend. "Fine, fine. I'll shut up about him, but only if you tell me what's going on. It's not healthy to think about someone that much."
Eric grimaced, his eyes coming to rest on a dartboard on the opposite wall of the tavern. His voice was gruff, tinged with exhaustion and desperation. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Every time I try to talk to him about something more serious than the weather, he has paperwork to do, or a book to read, or an errand to run." He let out a bitter laugh and took another gulp from his mug, turning to look Ronald in the eye. "He hates me, I think. And I don't know why, and I can't do anything about it. He can work on his own from now on, as far as I'm concerned."
Ronald frowned. "That's weird… You'd think he'd be a little friendlier to you, considering you were his mentor in the Academy. Oh, well." He smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Eric's shoulder. "You'll win him over eventually, I guess."
"I hope…" Eric said with a groan, draining the rest of his beer. "It's getting late. I need to get home and get some rest so that William doesn't kill me for being hung over and oversleeping tomorrow…" He smiled, picking up his heavy overcoat as Ronald pulled on his own coat and arranged a thick woolen scarf on his shoulders . "…you might want to consider it, too. I wouldn't want him on your case again, if I were you." The older reaper smirked and patted Ronald's shoulder, waving as he made his way out of the bar. "See you in the office tomorrow!"
Ronald smiled fondly at Eric's retreating back as his friend made his way to the door. "Alright! Good luck with you-know-who!" he shouted as he followed Eric out onto the street, shivering at the fierce, chilly wind that had sprung up while they were inside. The cold weather did nothing to diminish his good mood, though—Eric had an uncanny knack of being able to talk him out of a any depression he got himself into. Not to say that the alcohol hadn't played a part in his current sense of content... Ronald shoved his hands into the pockets of his warm wool overcoat and braced himself against the wind, whistling a cheerful tune as he strolled back to his apartment in the heart of London.
Meanwhile, a hooded figure made its way out of the bar, shuddering at the cold. A strand of red hair slipped out from under its hood, and shark like teeth glimmered in the blue-white moonlight. "Well, well, well," the smirking reaper said, pulling the dark fabric back and letting his long red hair blow loose in the wind, "that sure was interesting." He grinned, clasping his hands in joy as he plotted how best to act on the conversation he had just overheard, and hurried off down the street, pouting at the cold. "I should get home, too… And now I have to help those two idiots! Honestly, I don't know how anyone at the office would survive if I didn't look out for them…" He shook his head, a rueful expression on his face as he made his way across town. "Eh, whatever… I'll figure something out in the morning."
