There was a horrendous crash as a body dressed in black was hurled directly through one of the front windows of the small, London suburban home. The few people still up and about at such an hour quickly vacated the area around the house and stood across the street to witness a tall man with a mass of long, silver hair pick himself up painfully from the cobbles. He straightened to full height, brushed shards of broken glass from his dark robes and grinned like a maniac at the elegant dandy standing inside, looking out at him.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" whispered the local tailor, in awe that a man could recover so easily from something like that.
"Not sure, love," answered one of the whores that worked that street. She linked arms with the doxy she partnered with for safety in numbers, and she whispered into the blonde's ear.
The blonde nodded and put an arm around the redhead's waist. "That tall bloke there came bangin' on the door an' 'e broke it down, easy as you please. Seems the gent what lives in that place tossed 'im out on 'is ear."
"Seems pretty spry for gettin' tossed through a window," remarked the procurer of the two harlots. "Hey, ain't that the bloke what runs the local mortuary?"
His eyes widened and he gasped as the silver-haired fellow manifested a huge, skull-capped scythe out of thin air.
"So, you like it rough, eh?" said the mortician with a mad giggle. "I can accommodate that."
The next thing the witnesses saw had them all bug-eyed. The black-robed man produced what looked to them like long wooden stakes—again out of thin air—in his free hand and he threw them at the fellow on the other side of the broken window as though they weighed no more than game darts.
The black-haired dandy inside dodged them, yelling for someone to get back into the bedroom. The silver-haired man took a startling, graceful leap towards the building that made him seem nearly weightless, and he went through the door with his scythe leading the way. As if to heighten the dramatic fight being witnessed, the overcast night sky emitted an ominous rumble of thunder, and lightning played in the clouds. There was a ruckus from inside, a woman's cry of alarm, and something roughly the size of a knife clattered out through the doorway into the street.
The local tailor approached cautiously to look at it, and his face screwed up as he picked it up and held it under the dim streetlight. "A...horn?"
An awful screeching sound pierced the air—metal, brick and mortar being hewn in half—and the front of the house shifted as a diagonal slash appeared from the left corner of the roof to the bottom right corner of the foundation. The ground trembled beneath witnesses feet, and there were sounds of alarm from neighboring residencies as the ruckus woke the occupants.
A woman's voice called out from within the house when the carnage ended and the noise died down. "No! Don't kill him, please!"
~xox~
Undertaker stood over his vanquished prey, the sharp, crescent blade of his death scythe pressed threateningly against Reginald's throat and one boot planted firmly on his chest. The demon glared up at him, baring his fangs. He'd transformed during the struggle, and his expansive black bat's wings lay unfurled beneath him on the floor. One horn had been sliced off and black blood dripped sluggishly from the stump.
"Please," begged the girl again. "I need him!"
The mortician glanced at Betsy, his eyes flashing beneath the fringe of his bangs. "I'd be doing you a favor if I did kill him, my dear...but I've learned that demons can't be so easily dispatched. The most I could hope for would be to damage his physical form enough to sever his ties to this plane and force him to rebuild a body to come back to. Seeing as I've got no personal interest in what becomes of your soul..."
He slowly withdrew the scythe and grinned. "...I've little incentive to make the effort. Back on your feet, chap."
Flushing with humiliation, the demon got off the floor and stood up. "What was the purpose of this attack?" he demanded. "If your intention wasn't to banish me, why intrude?"
"I said I've got 'little' incentive to destroy your body, not 'none'," explained the mortician. The house shivered on its foundation as the weight of the severed upper half shifted. Undertaker cast a distracted glance around. "I didn't come here for your ward, demon. I came to issue a warning. You attacked a young reaper today, unprovoked."
"He was making advances on my mistress," excused the demon. He wiped a trickle of dark blood from his lips. "It is my right to defend her honor as well as her life, while our contract is unfulfilled."
The ancient smirked. "You demons have a curious sense of honor. Like them pure, do you? Well, it's none of my affair how you conduct your business. It is my concern when that business threatens what's mine, however. The blond Dispatch agent is off limits."
The house rumbled and dust came down from the ceiling. Betsy wrung her hands nervously and came to stand beside her demon servant, who put a protective arm around her.
"In fact," continued the Undertaker, ignoring the ruckus as he combed his bangs back to glare at the demon, "I think you'd best toddle off to a new location. Our little treaty ended when you attacked the boy, and I don't much care to have you residing in my territory any longer."
"I wasn't aware of your claim on him," protested the demon, narrowing his eyes. "London doesn't belong to you, old reaper."
The mortician smiled menacingly. "Maybe not, but the boy does. Besides, I think we can safely say this residency isn't fit for accommodation any more. Could collapse at any moment, in fact, so you might want to take your pretty little meal out of here before she gets crushed. You can find her another home wherever you like; as long as it's not within the boundaries of this city. I can do far worse to you than banish you, friend. I think you know that."
There wasn't much that could intimidate a demon like Reginald, but the uncertain look on his face said the mortician managed to make a dent in his resolve. "I could inform Shinigami Dispatch that you were here," he warned. "I know they've restricted how far you can go from your corpse processing shop, old fool."
"Ah, Dispatch." Undertaker smiled again. "Yes, they should be here very soon, I imagine. Think on this, chap: as brassed off as I was with your attack against Ronald, imagine how they'll react when they find out you're the one responsible for putting one of their agents in the infirmary. I imagine they'll make you wish I'd banished you."
The demon deflated.
Undertaker nodded. "Good, you've got more common sense than I thought. Now, if you don't want to wind up as a demon shish-ka-bob, I'd recommend you gather what belongings you can and leave London for good. If Dispatch happens to arrive with questions before you're gone, tell them it was a fight with a rival demon or make something else up. I was never here."
Satisfied that neither of them would tattle on him now, the mortician turned and walked back to the door. He paused and bent over to retrieve his hat, brushing the dust off of it before placing it back on his head. He turned and smiled at Betsy, tipping his hat to her.
"Sorry for the mess, Miss Betsy. I wish you luck in getting whatever closure you need to satisfy your thirst for revenge, even though it means you'll wind up in your butler's stomach. Have a nice evening."
He banished his scythe and walked outside, and he sighed when he noticed the small gathering of humans across the street. More loose ends. With a shrug and a bright smile, he approached them. "Evening, folks. My, my, what happened here?"
The pimp glanced at his doxies, looking none too comfortable. "N-no idea, guvnor. Heard an awful ruckus and the house started fallin' apart. We didn't see nufin, did we girls?"
The blonde shook her head, her flaxen curls bouncing and her green eyes wide. "Not a thing," she agreed.
"I saw something," said the redhead boldly. She was looking at the Undertaker in an entirely different way, her brown gaze caressing him with intrigue as she sauntered up to him. "I saw a creepy ol' mortician turn into a god before me very eyes."
The doxy smiled and ran her fingernails over the reaper's bicep. "I loves a good mystery, I do. Want some company for the night, love?"
Her blonde companion gasped and muttered a warning to her, and the Undertaker's brows shot up. "Interesting sales pitch, my dear, but I'm afraid my company is reserved for another." he grinned and caught up her hand, planting a kiss on top of it. "Just make sure you don't tell the authorities about it, should they ask."
She shrugged, taking his rejection in stride. Evidently her lot in life had toughened her up more than her blonde companion, and she wasn't easily intimidated—but neither was she an idiot. "Mum's the word. Pi'y, though...I'd have liked to service you after seeing that."
The mortician's grin widened. "Brazen lil' darlin', aren't you." He looked at the pimp. "I like her. Take good care of these ladies, chap. I won't like it if I hear they've been abused, as so many ladies of the night often are."
The procurer nodded convulsively, reaching out for the redhead to drag her to his other side. "Right, sir. I'll remember that."
The mortician turned to the tailor. "And you? What did you see here, chap?"
The tailor pawed at the flask attached to his belt. "I'm too drunk to see much of anything." With that said, he popped the lid and took a hefty swallow.
Undertaker chuckled and nodded. "Good enough. Well, I'd best be off. Nice chatting with you folks."
He tipped his hat and then he appeared to vanish, leaving them gasping and staring at the empty space where he'd been.
"Right, that's it then," muttered the pimp, and he snatched the tailor's flask away from him with a shaking hand to steal a drink for himself. "I'm callin' it a night."
~xox~
They arrived not five minutes after the mortician left, and the witnesses had already fled the scene. They found the demon and his mistress hurrying out of the house just as it began to collapse in on itself, and the sound of approaching fire coach bells could be heard from a few blocks away. Grell approached the couple briskly, readying his scythe in case the demon tried any aggression.
"You, what happened here?" demanded the redhead, his gaze flicking between the butler and the grinding, groaning structure.
Reginald put the trunk he'd been carrying down on the street, and he straightened up with dignity. He appeared once more as a man, with no visible signs of his demonic nature. "I would like to know whom I address before I answer any questions, reaper."
Alan stepped forward before Grell could go off on a self-important tangent. "Dispatch officer Humphries," he obliged diplomatically, "and this is Officer Sutcliff. The man behind me is Officer Slingby. I apologize for the intrusion; I can see that this isn't a good time for you, but we've tracked a fugitive to this location and we would like to know if you've seen him."
He winced as one side of the house collapsed in on itself. "Did a reaper happen to be responsible for this? He would be tall, with long silver hair and visible scars on his face and throat."
The girl at the demon's side quickly shook her head, and Reginald did the same with more grace. "I'm afraid not. This is the result of an old rival attempting to challenge my claim on my mistress. We have seen nobody matching your description; reaper or otherwise. Now if you will excuse us, Betsy and I must be finding lodging for the night."
Alan hesitated, his brow furrowing. Too polite to argue with him, he nodded. "Of course. Good luck to you."
He nudged Grell and together, they joined Eric at the corner of the street. "What now?"
"He's obviously lying," Grell said with a wave of his hand. His eyes followed the demon with interest as Reginald hailed a carriage and loaded his mistress' trunk of belongings into it. "Handsome sort, though. Not quite as charming as my Sebas-chan, however."
Eric rolled his eyes. "Can yeh just focus on tha matter at hand? If tha Undertaker was here, then he can't have gone far. We should split up an' look fer him."
Alan nodded. "Agreed, but be careful. None of us should try to take him on alone. We should call each other immediately, if any of us find him. That means you too, Grell."
The redhead sighed. "Oh, how I would love a moment alone with that handsome, grinning fiend...but I shall play by the rules."
~xox~
They looked everywhere, with no results. Eric finally decided to call his companions and meet up with them at the mortuary, giving up. How he managed to pull it off was anyone's guess, but they found him inside the shop, sitting casually at his desk and reading a penny dreadful. He looked up and smiled brightly at the three officers as they entered his shop.
"Ah, evening, gents. Surprise inspection?" He put his reading material down on the desk and got out of his chair to greet them.
"Don't play coy with us, old man," snapped Grell with his hands on his hips. "You've been out tonight. Our tracking system confirmed it! Just what have you been up to?"
The mortician looked properly confused, and he spread his hands with an expression of one wrongly accused. "Why, my bum hasn't left this seat since night fell, Miss Sutcliff. Before that, I was caring for Mr. Knox and your supervisor came and got him, himself."
"The tracer alerted us that you were several city blocks from your shop," insisted Alan.
"Uh-huh. When might this alleged trip out have happened, chap?" Undertaker braced an elbow on the table and dropped his chin in his hand with interest.
"Not one hour ago," answered Eric. "Enough games, sir. Where'd yeh go an' why?"
"Who's playing a game? You've got my poor old head confused." Undertaker scratched his head in a show of perplexity. "Unless I've mastered the ability to be in two places at once without my knowledge, your tracing system is mistaken. Has it occurred to any of you that it could simply be a glitch?"
The Dispatch officers looked at one another uncertainly, and Eric shrugged. "It could happen."
"Oh, don't fall for his tricks," admonished Grell. He sauntered over to the desk, swinging his hips in a feminine manner. "You won't pull the wool over my eyes, you bounder. I know you're hiding something, and I shall delight in wringing it from your squirming body."
"Grell, put away the scythe," sighed Alan as the redhead made to start up the chainsaw. "We have no evidence that he's lying, and we're under orders from Dispatch not to use physical aggression against him unless it's necessary."
"And it's no' necessary," added Eric with a nod.
Undertaker smiled up at Grell with a maddening lack of concern. He combed his bangs out of his eyes and favored the temperamental redhead with a wink. "Can't you think of other things you'd rather with my squirming body, miss?"
A pink blush immediately bloomed on Grell's cheeks, inspired by the ancient's arresting gaze, his wink and his suggestion. Flustered, the redhead tried to recover from the effect it had on him. "Don't you start flirting with me, you...you...fossil," he sputtered. "Your wiles don't phase me!"
"Looks like they do from where I'm standin'," whispered Eric to his partner with a grin.
Alan smirked, but he sobered immediately. "Let's go, Grell. Even if he did manage to sneak out and get back here before we arrived, we can't prove it. We should report back to Dispatch and have the tracking system analyzed. Sir, we're sorry for troubling you."
Undertaker waved it off. "No trouble, chap. It's always nice to have company, however brief and accusatory it might be. I'll lock up behind you and call it a night. I doubt I'll be getting any new clients at this hour."
Practically dragging Grell with them, Alan and Eric left the shop. Undertaker's grin faded once they were gone, and he leaned against the door with a sigh of relief.
"Close one, old chap," he mumbled to himself. As bored as he was with life, he was tired of running and he didn't much fancy the thought of being behind bars. If it weren't for Ronald Knox, though, he wouldn't have anything to look forward to at all and he simply couldn't leave it be after the boy got attacked on his way to visit him.
"Wonder how he's doing," sighed the ancient.
He smirked as he thought of the look on Grell's face when he'd flirted with him. So predictable, that one. It wasn't so hard to put on an act when he had no real intention of pursuing anything, but his flirtatious skills were sorely limited when it came to using them on someone he really wanted...like Ronald. He stumbled like an awkward fledgling when he tried to express his attraction to someone he really liked, and he again wondered what in creation the flirty blond agent saw in him.
~xox~
"Did they catch him?" Ronald asked when his boss came by to check on him and bid him goodnight.
William raised a brow at the concern in the young reaper's voice. "No, they did not. Nobody was injured, if that is your concern."
"So he's out on the loose, then?" pressed Ronald.
William shook his head. "No, fortunately. Our associates located the Undertaker at his shop, and he claimed not to have set foot outside of it this evening. They could find no evidence to the contrary, though Sutcliff insists he was lying."
Ronald relaxed against his pillow. "Oh. Huh, that's weird. Why did the tracer go off, then?"
"We suspect it was in error," explained the supervisor. "You don't need to worry about that, Knox. Concentrate on recovering so that you may return to work. It was a false alarm, so you did not miss out on anything."
"Yeah...I'd hate to miss out on another manhunt," muttered the blond. He came close to confessing the truth to William in that moment, having come to look up to him and admire him. He knew that doing so would probably only get him in trouble though, so he chose to be vague.
"Say Senpai...I wonder if you could give me some advice."
William had a seat in the visitor's chair and checked his watch. "I can spare a moment or two. What is the matter?"
Ronald scratched his head and glanced off to the side. "I know this girl in Human Resources, and the thing is...well, she's started dating a guy that her friends don't approve of. They kind of think he's a bad seed, you know?"
William smirked a little. "This 'bad seed' wouldn't happen to favor a custom scythe in the form of a lawnmower and take naps at inappropriate times of the day, would he?"
Ronald blinked. If only William knew how close he was to the truth—backwards though the roles might be. "No, it's not me...and I'm not a bad guy anyhow! This is someone else, and she was asking me what I thought she should do. I mean, say she started dating this guy on the sly and she's afraid to tell anyone because she knows she'll get a lecture if she does."
William nodded. "I daresay she would, if her friends are that concerned over her dating choice."
The blond sighed. "Yeah, I get that feeling too. The thing is, she really likes this guy...more than she's ever liked anyone she's ever gone out with. They just started dating and all, so maybe it's just the newness of it. You know how new relationships can make you all giddy at first?"
The brunet lifted an elegant brow again. "Not from personal experience, but I've seen the sort of 'giddy' behavior in others when in a new romance. It's quite possible that the strength of her feelings are inspired by that, or perhaps she feels so strongly because her beau is 'forbidden fruit'. I understand some people find it thrilling to conduct illicit affairs or pursue an individual that others consider dangerous."
"But she's not attracted to him because he's dangerous," protested Ronald. "She didn't even know she was attracted to him 'till she kissed him for the first time, in fact. She uh...did it on a dare, I guess. Sort of."
William shrugged. "Sometimes a kiss can be all it takes, if my understanding of romance is accurate."
"Hmm. Have you ever had your socks knocked off by a kiss, Senpai?"
"Not that I can recall, no." William shook his head.
Ronald sighed. "Believe me, if you had, you'd remember it. I guess you're too cool for that, though."
"Was that a veiled insult to my nature, Ronald?"
"No way," assured the blond hastily. "I wasn't being sarcastic. I just honestly can't see you getting loopy over a kiss."
"Thank you," replied the supervisor, "I think."
Ronald smirked. "Hey, the way I see it that's a good thing. We'd all be up shit creek without a paddle if you ever got distracted by romance. You're the glue that holds our department together, you know?"
The brunet sighed and adjusted his glasses. "I'm all too aware."
The blond sighed again. "So what do you think she should do? Keep dating the guy in secret or face the music and tell her friends?"
"It's not a simple question to answer," said the older reaper thoughtfully. "One would hope she has an honest enough relationship with her friends to discuss it calmly with them. If this suitor truly makes her happy and doesn't pose an immediate danger to her, then her friends should accept her choice eventually. That is, assuming they care for her enough to put her happiness above their personal dislike of this man."
Hope stirred in Ronald's breast. "Well, she thinks they do, but there's this one friend she really looks up to that can be pretty...uh...strict. Kinda like you. What would you do if she was a friend of yours, Senpai?"
William's straight brows furrowed slightly, and Ronald had a horrible feeling he was starting to put the pieces together. "You seem terribly invested in this young lady's personal romantic life, Knox."
"Like I said; she's a friend of mine and she doesn't know what to do. I'm just trying to get some good advice to relay to her, since...you know...my judgment isn't always that solid."
"I see. Well, if she were a friend of mine, I would take into consideration her past choices and whether they had a tendency to get her into trouble. How strongly I'd caution her would be influenced by her history, but I would not deliver an ultimatum that she either stop seeing this man or lose my friendship."
William frowned, an expression of dawning comprehension bleeding into his features. His gaze met Ronald's and held it, suddenly intense. "I might also be inclined to approach this gentleman and deliver a polite but firm warning not to mistreat her. While she may very well be capable of handling herself, I'm afraid I would have to insist on making it known that I will not tolerate anyone taking advantage of her."
Ronald gulped. He really should have known better than to play this game with William. The man was an expert strategist and he could read between the lines better than anyone Ronald ever met. He couldn't decide if he was touched or worried by his boss's subtle declaration. "W-well, she's not really that easy to take advantage of."
"Hmm, I would hope not." William crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. "One doesn't need to be a damsel in distress to be fallible, however. Tell me Ronald; this 'friend' of yours...is the object of her affections an older gentleman?"
~Oh, crap.~
He wanted to backpedal, if for no other reason than to avoid William figuring out exactly who he was secretly dating...but he could never lie to this man and even if he tried, he knew he would sense it. "Yeah, he's...a lot older, actually. Practically uh...ancient."
"Interesting." William's eyes narrowed. "And does he have a history of mental illness?"
Ronald shrugged, cringing a little. "Depends on who you ask. I don't think the guy's that crazy. Damaged, yeah, but he's been around since creation, so who the hell wouldn't be a little unhinged in his place?"
"I think we can stop pretending to be discussing your imaginary friend, Ronald," advised William dryly.
The boy sighed. "Yeah, okay. You got me. I never should have said anything."
"Clearly you're feeling burdened by this situation," observed the supervisor. "I'm rather surprised you came to me first, instead of Sutcliff."
Ron shrugged. "Me too. I guess you were the person I was most worried about, and your advice is more solid than Grell's because you use logic instead of feelings to work stuff out."
"I commend your choice," William said, "at least insofar as choosing me as an advisor over Mr. Sutcliff. I must admit that I am surprised though, Ronald. The Undertaker? Honestly, I never would have imagined him being your type."
"Me either," agreed Ronald. "Believe me. Like I said, I kissed him 'cause I was curious and I thought I could seduce those names out of him for ya—"
William held up a gloved hand to silence him. "Stop. Knox, are you telling me that the day Sutcliff and I left you to handle procuring those names from him that you...slept with him to get them?"
The blond visibly winced. "Well no...It didn't go that far." He thought back on that encounter and he followed up with another careless confession. "Boy, it could have, though. Damn he's hot."
"I think I've heard all I care to," said the brunet, lips compressing tightly. "Ronald, I asked you to entertain him—"
"That's what I did," defended the blond. "Knox style."
William groaned softly. "I...cannot even pretend to be scandalized. I might have known."
Ronald shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Well, it backfired on me. Now I can't get him out of my head and the truth is, he tried to push me away after that but I wouldn't give up. That's what was eating me up so much when you gave me a day off, boss. Sorry."
"Let me see if I understand this correctly," said the older reaper, "you decided to get information from Legendary Death through the most inappropriate means imaginable, and when he attempted to reject him you chose to stalk him?"
"No way!" Ronald sat up, groaning a little at the soreness in his body. "Listen, he was putting on an act because he didn't think it'd be a healthy relationship for me—"
"I daresay he's right—"
"—But I'm a big boy and I can make my own mind up about who I date. I had a feeling he was just pretending not to want more, so I called him out on it and I was right! He could have thrown me out if he wanted to, but he didn't and he agreed to go on a few dates with me to see if we could fit together. I may be determined when I think I've got a chance with someone, but I'm no stalker!"
"All right, calm down," ordered William. "Is that how you ended up in his shop earlier this evening?"
Ronald nodded. "Partly, yeah. I know you said not to go out when I was supposed to be taking a rest day, but we were just going to hang around in his shop and have dinner together. I got jumped by that demon on my way there after picking up the food because he thought I was macking on his mistress. Man, if I get the chance to I am so going to pay that asshole back for ambushing me and ruining my date."
William sighed. "You realize of course that your dating him will create a conflict of interest? I can't assign you to anything involving his case, from now on. You have contaminated your professional relationship with him."
"Jeez, you make it sound like I took a dump on him, Senpai."
William smirked. "Well, you've effectively 'taken a dump' on your responsibilities to his case, but what's done is done."
Ronald gave him a wary look. "So what's my punishment? More overtime? Please don't demote me."
"I don't intend to have you demoted," sighed the brunet, "but neither can I simply ignore this and allow you to compromise your judgment. I shall put in the paperwork to have you status as one of the Undertaker's probation officers revoked."
Ronald felt some alarm at that. "You're not gonna go around telling everyone, are ya?"
William gave him an impatient look. "Since when have I ever been a gossiper, Knox? What you tell others of your relationship with him and when you choose to do so is no business of mine."
The blond breathed a little easier. He doubted Eric and Alan would give him too much hassle, though the latter of the two might express some gentle concern. Eric would probably give Undertaker the thumbs-up for snagging a young thing like him, knowing the Scotsman's personality. It was Grell he was most worried about now. He couldn't predict whether the redhead would react with outrage or not. He might even get jealous, seeing as he harbored an attraction to the Undertaker himself, regardless of the damage he'd done to his face on the Campania. He might be offended that Ronald would want to date a man that 'hurt a lady's face'. There was just no telling with him.
"So what are you going to put down as the reason you're taking me off the case?" wondered Ronald aloud.
"I shall make a note that we have no need for so many agents assigned as probation enforcers to a single case. In fact, I believe I'll remove Sutcliff from it as well. Alan's report leads me to believe he's invested personal feelings into his dealings with the Undertaker as well, and I require agents that can maintain neutrality and fairness in this matter."
"Hmm, good plan but you know Sutcliff-Senpai's gonna be pissed."
William gazed at him steadily. "I do not now, nor have I ever cared what he thinks of my executive decisions, Ronald."
The boy shrugged. "I'm just saying there's probably going to be a lot of whining."
"He can whine until he loses his voice, for all I care," countered William, "in fact, I rather hope he does. We could all use the peace and quiet."
"You can be really mean, you know," Ronald sighs. "I know he gets on your nerves, but he's been in love with you for as long as I've known him...probably longer."
William almost seemed to hesitate, before speaking again. "Sutcliff falls in love all the time, Ronald. I can do nothing about that."
"Yeah, but he's stayed in love with you," Ronald pointed out. "Even when he gets a crush on someone else, you're still at the top of the list. I'll bet even if that demon butler went out on a date with him, Grell would dump him in a heartbeat for you."
The brunet actually looked a bit uncomfortable. "I think you overestimate his attraction to me, Ronald. He's harbored this crush for a long time, this is true, but it has never been inspired by healthy reasons. He's both a sadist and a masochist. He enjoys inflicting pain on others and having it inflicted upon himself. I learned this long ago, and I doubt such a creature is even capable of real love."
It was Ronald's turn for an epiphany. "Oh man...how long have you been feeling like this, Senpai?"
William gave him a carefully neutral look. "Feeling like what, praytell?"
"You dig him!" Ronald's grin was almost as broad as the Undertaker's signature smiles. "That's why you get so pissed off at him. He pushes your buttons and I don't just mean the ones that trigger your temper."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," scoffed the supervisor. "I get so 'pissed off' at Grell Sutcliff because of his unprofessional behavior and fawning. It has nothing to do with any reciprocal attraction on my part."
Ronald sighed, guessing he'd get nowhere with this argument. When William T. Spears dug his heels in, he simply would not be budged. He'd suspected for a while that William deliberately did things to anger or disappoint Grell, but he never understood why, before now. It was like a boy picking on a girl he liked because he didn't know how to just tell her how he felt. Ronald had never wanted to play "matchmaker" more then he did now, but how could he convince his boss it was time to stop pulling Grell's figurative pigtails and just go for it?
Ronald thought of the cute librarian he once dated, and an idea came to mind. He began to grin. "Okay Senpai, if ya say I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. I won't try to convince you otherwise."
William lifted a brow suspiciously. "Thank you so much."
~Damn, the guy's so sharp about everything but his own feelings. I've never met anyone so out of touch with himself.~
Despite the pain he was still suffering as his body healed from the demon's attack, Ronald began to plot on how to get his senpai's together. For once, his thoughts weren't swimming with the Undertaker...but he knew that wouldn't last for very long so he made good use of the distraction.
~xox~
"That cold, perfect bastard," Grell complained the next morning as he stomped into Ronald's infirmary room. "Do you know what he did?"
Ronald nodded and swallowed the bit of porridge in his mouth. "Bumped you off Undertaker's probation case. I know; he took me off too. Told me he was gonna do it last night. Don't let it get to ya, Senpai. He'll win if you do."
Grell huffed and sat down in the visitor chair, crossing his legs and kicking absently at the air with his upper one. "What do you mean; 'he'll win'? I wasn't aware that he and I were competing."
Ronald snorted. "Yeah? You both spend an awful lot of time trying to one-up each other on who can piss off who the most."
Grell tossed his head dramatically. "Oh Ronnie, don't be ridiculous. I tease Will to try and crack that shell of ice around him and get some sort of reaction besides his indifference. He treats me so poorly because he's simply cruel. He's always been cruel."
The redhead sighed, his expression going dreamy and a blush darkening his cheeks. "But that rigid perfection is part of what I so adore about him...that and how positively forceful he gets whenever he finally loses patience with me. Oh, it makes me shiver to think of how his eyes flash and for just a moment, I can pretend he's about to ravish me to teach me a lesson!"
Ronald listened to his infatuated tirade with half an ear, quite used to Grell going off into la-la land frequently when talking about William. "What if I told you he's got other reasons for the way he treats you?" he asked when Grell finally left off talking about William's hair, eyes and body with a wistful sigh.
The redhead seemed to snap out of his reverie, and he frowned. "What do you mean, Ronnie?"
The blond shrugged. "Maybe he likes pushing your buttons as much as you like pushing his, that's all."
"That's a lovely thought," Grell said dubiously, "but I hardly think my Willy is trying to flirt with me. There are better ways to get a lady's attention."
"Not yours," Ronald pointed out. "You always go for the guys that hurt you in some way. Sebastian, Undertaker, Spears-Senpai. I've heard you remark on how handsome you think Slingby-Senpai is, but you never throw yourself at him...not even before he and Alan went public with their relationship. You know why I think that is?"
Grell sighed and laced his fingers together over his knee. "All right, I'll humor you. Why do you think that is?"
"Because he's always nice to you," answered Ronald simply. "I mean you flirt a little with him once in a while, but never like you do with the guys that are mean or dismissive with ya."
Grell lowered his gaze in thought, his frown returning. "I...Ronnie, I've never admitted this to anyone, but I think that I'm more expressive of my passion with the cold ones because I know they are unobtainable. I foil my own heart this way, because...because I know they don't return my affections and that makes them 'safe'."
Ronald blinked. "I don't get it."
Grell sighed and spun around on the chair, getting up to pace the room. "If I were to woo a man that might respond favorably to my efforts, I could find myself in a relationship."
The redhead smiled and he absently ran his fingertips over the IV tube leading from Ronald's glucose bag to his arm. "And then I might know love...and loss. Both are frightful notions to me." He raised his eyes and looked at Ronald somberly. "Can you understand what I mean, Ronnie? I have seen so many hearts shredded—both figuratively and literally—because of love."
"Oh, wow." He got it now, and he suddenly felt sorry for both his senpai's. "You and Will both have some serious issues."
Grell put one hand on his hip in a sassy pose. "And just what do you mean by that? Protecting one's heart is just good sense."
The blond sighed. "Hey, you aren't the only one. What is it with us reapers, man? Why are we all so messed up?"
Grell checked his watch. "I hope you're planning on getting to the point, Mustard Seed. I do have to be in the office soon."
"My point is both you and Spears-Senpai have intimacy issues, but the funny thing is you deal with yours by throwing yourself at men you think don't want you and he deals with his by tugging on your pig-tails."
Grell's brow furrowed, and he reached up to pat his hair with both hands. "Ronnie, I'm not wearing any—"
"It was a figure of speech, jeez," interrupted the blond. "It's something boys do to girls they like because they're too chickenshit to just tell them so, you see?"
Grell seemed to be getting it, now. He stared at the younger reaper, blushing again at the implications. "Are you trying to say that Will treats me so horribly because...he really likes me?"
Ronald nodded. "That's what I'm saying."
Grell started to smile, but he shook his head. "Well that's just...silly. What an imagination you have."
"Think about it, Senpai," urged the blond. "He's harder on you than anyone else in this department."
"That's because I annoy him more than anyone else in this department." Grell was covering his lips on a smile though, and the dreamy look was returning to his eyes.
"What if I'm right, though?" persisted Ronald. "Don't you even want to test my theory?"
"I...couldn't possibly," said Grell uncertainly. Ronald had never seen him lack confidence like this before.
"Why not? You could finally get what you want, if I'm right."
Grell sighed in exasperation. "And how do you propose I 'test' your theory, without getting a restraining order drawn up on me? I've done everything I could do to show Will my affection, short of outright molesting him."
"You don't need to molest him," insisted Ronald. "Do this right and he could be the one molesting you."
"It's hardly possible to molest the willing, Ronnie," Grell pointed out, not bothering to deny how much he wanted William T. Spears. "But I'm curious to hear what you think I could possibly do that I have not already done."
"Dress like a sexy librarian and drop a book in front of him."
Grell stared at him again. "Pardon?"
The blond shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he's got a thing for librarians. I've caught him eyeing some of them before when we've gone to turn in records. If he's anything like me, he likes the way their skirts mold to their hips and show off their calves. You could dress like that, Senpai. I've seen you wear dresses before and you look good in them. In fact, if you weren't my mentor I might have already asked you out, by now."
"Oh Ronnie, don't tease me."
"I'm not," insisted Ronald. "I think if you dressed up in a nice silk blouse and one of those black skirts they wear, put your hair up in a bun and put on some women's heels, you could get Spears-Senpai eating out of your hand before you know it."
"But Will has already seen me in a dress before," reminded Grell, "and he didn't exactly toss me onto his desk and ravish me." The thought of such a scenario obviously pleased him, because his blush deepened and his eyes lost focus again.
"He's seen you in Victorian ladies' wear," corrected Ronald with a wink. "And while it's pretty on you, it's not really his weakness. Dress like a librarian and find an excuse to bend over in front of him. Trust the Knox instinct, Senpai. I'm good at this sort of stuff."
Grell snorted. "Since when have you ever dressed as a naughty librarian to seduce someone?"
"Well, never," admitted Ronald, "but I wasn't trying to seduce a guy with a closet fetish for them, either. I've got good instincts when it comes to romance, okay? How do you think I always get so many dates? You've gotta trust me."
Grell shook his head. "It isn't you I mistrust, Ronald...it's William's temper. Even if I did manage to catch his eye using your plan, I think Will would be furious that I'd managed to manipulate him that way. He's a very proud man, you know."
Ronald wanted to facepalm. "You two are so frustrating."
Grell smiled at him, and he reached out to ruffle his hair. "I appreciate you trying to help me ensnare my dream man, Ronnie...but some things are best left as a fantasy. Now, enough about me and my fixation with men I can't have; how are you feeling today?"
"Much better," answered Ronald truthfully. "All of the bruising is gone and the cuts are healing fast. They might release me this afternoon."
"Well, good. If they do, I would like you to come to my apartment for dinner tonight."
Ronald grimaced. "Uh, I'd love to...but I kind of have plans tonight already, if they let me out of here."
"A date already?" Grell raised his brows. "How in the hell did you manage to procure a date while in the hospital?"
The boy shrugged evasively. As with William, he was reluctant to outright lie to Grell. "I'm just that good. See why you should listen to my advice?"
Grell sighed, rolling his eyes. "The King of Hearts you may very well be when it comes to dating, Ronnie, but you are the Joker of the deck when it comes to good sense."
"Hah, that's funny, coming from you."
The shark-like grin returned. "I never claimed to be gifted in that area myself, darling. I was only making a point."
"Okay, ignore my advise then," conceded Ronald. "But I'll be thinking about you when I'm out on my hot date tonight. Oh wait...that didn't come out sounding the way I meant for it to."
Grell laughed and clapped his gloved hands with delight. "Is there something you've been meaning to tell me, Ronald? Well, I'd best get to work before I'm late. I admit that I'm a little envious of your ability to find dates even when you're hospitalized. Do have a lovely time, Knoxy."
"I'll let you know how it goes," promised the blond—vaguely thankful that Grell no longer asked him for names or details of any of his dates unless he demonstrated a lot of excitement over them. He wasn't quite ready to confess the truth of his relationship with the Undertaker to him. He smiled as he watched him leave, and once he was alone again he sighed and looked down at his unappealing breakfast, still sitting half-eaten on his food tray.
"Damn, I thought about him again," complained Ronald as his brain jumped on his mental mentioning of the mortician and ran with it. He sighed as his crotch rose to attention beneath his hospital gown. Every time he thought of those eyes, that smile, and the voice—when it wasn't putting on the creepy tone—he immediately thought of the way he kissed and the way he'd seemed so helpless with pleasure when Ronald gave him that hand-job.
"Down boy," he admonished himself. He'd agreed not to try to do that to 'Taker again until at least the third date. His plans had been set back, but not defeated. He missed talking to the unpredictable old death god, though. He looked around for his phone and he sighed, realizing they must have put it in a locker with his clothes. Maybe he could get one of the nurses to bring him a phone so that he could call him and set up a date for when he got released.
~xox~
-To be continued
