It was a cold and drab day in London, what with the rain pouring and the clouds obscuring the sunlight, shrouding the city in grey. The few passersby who braved the cold and wet winds didn't pay any attention to the lady clad in black.

She walked alone, forever alone. Her heels scraping against the stone road as she stumbled into the familiar store. It had been over a year, and yet she knew where to go, despite having been inebriated.

She looked up and locked eyes with the Undertaker. He cocked his head slightly and raised the edges of his lips slightly. "Miss Durlessss, I presume?" She nodded and looked back down, quickly wiping away a tear that had fallen.

"I didn't get much regarding details of the burial, is there anyone else coming?" She shook her head. "Ah, well then. We'll be able to start right away!" he chuckled softly as he showed her the way to the cemetery.

Cocking his head to the side, the Undertaker pondered as to where he'd seen this beautiful creature before. His memory failed and he shrugged his shoulders as he followed her close by.

. . .

She'd asked for a simple burial, carrying a small bouquet of assorted red flowers as her gift to Grell.

He guided her through several rows of tombstones before arriving at a small, new slab of stone, engraved with the words "Grell Sutcliff, born April 2 1893, died May 7 1894".

Seeing her daughter's tombstone brought fresh tears to her eyes. The Undertaker whipped out a handkerchief and handed it to the lady. "Thank you…" she mumbled, accepting the cloth to dab at her eyes.

Several moments of silence passed while Angelina quietly grieved her daughter's abrupt death. She hiccupped softly before looking up at the Undertaker.

"She… she's… she's your…" and burst into sobs. The mortician raised his thin brows at the woman's odd behavior.

Surely he'd seen her somewhere… somewhere recent… and she didn't look like just another face you'd see in the streets. "Pardon me madam but where—"

"She's your daughter!" Angelina managed to croak out before sobbing once again, burying her face in the man's handkerchief.

There have been many people who've tried – and ultimately failed – at surprising the Undertaker, but being told he was a father had to be the absolute most surprising thing any being had ever told him. On instinct, he believed it, but only for a second before he felt reality settle in. He couldn't be a father. He hadn't encountered any—oh but there had been that tiny blip about a year ago… no, that didn't count. She was drunk. But surely she couldn't… shouldn't have happened…

Undertaker's signature grin quickly vanished. "Surely this is all a mis—"

"Grell… i-is… was… your daughter." Angelina confessed rather solemnly.

Dread started to course through the man as he was forced to accept the truth; he had had a daughter. Words failed the man as his eyes slid down to gaze upon the remaining memory of his only daughter. "I f-found out I was pre-pregnant a few months later an-and I decided to keep her a secret. She was such a b-beautiful little baby…" Angelina choked out the words with great difficulty, finding her throat rather dry.

A hand flew up to his face and he backed away. Finding it to be the lady's gloved one he remained still and let her part his bangs for her to see his eyes. She let out a soft gasp before dropping her hand and looking back at Grell's grave.

"S-she had your eyes… they were sso beautiful…" she murmured longingly.

Undertaker reached out and draped his arm around the Madame's shoulder, partly to comfort her and partly to hold himself up from the shock and grief. They stood there for who knows how long, quietly basking in each other's comfort. The sun started to fade, and they went inside.

. . .

"Mr Spears, that is absolutely preposterous."

"But sir, if you could just understand—"

"No, I've heard enough of this. Leave."

William stood there, thinking of any detail that would help prove his point.

"She's part Reaper." He blurted out, suddenly remembering. "What?"

"She was born part human, and part Reaper."

The London branch manager thought this over for a minute, stroking his goatee before shaking his head in exasperation. "Do what you will. Set up a separate hospital room for this, and above all Spears, keep. It. Secret."

William couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto his face. "Yes, sir."

As he strode down the hallway he met up with a co-worker, Eric Slingby. "Slingby, would you go fetch Grell Durless' record and promptly deliver it to the hospital? I'll be waiting for you there."

"Sure thing boss." He was about to leave when he turned back on his heel and poked his head in his office. "Hey, Aaron, come tag along." A shy brunette shuffled out of the office. "It's Alan…" he mumbled before scurrying along after his mentor.

William smiled as he made his way to the hospital. When he got there, the head doctor flat-out refused his request, but once William told him he was under orders from the branch manager, the doctor let him have a room, albeit reluctantly.

He also asked for the body of Grell Durless to be brought up.

He went back out front to wait for Slingby, who was just arriving with a flustered-looking Alan trailing behind. "Here ya go Spears. What'cha need it for anyways?"

"That is none of your concern, but thank you for your trouble," William replied curtly, practically grabbing the record out of his hands and hurrying back to the hospital room where they were placing the lifeless body of baby Grell onto the bed.

The head doctor came back in. "The manager told me everything." He said with a frown. "But I can't help but wonder what the results will be…" he mumbled mostly to himself as he put on a doctor's mask. William was positively giddy with excitement as he himself couldn't wait to see if his idea was to be successful or not. The doctors ushered him out, and seeing as he no longer had a part in his plan, he returned to his usual work.

When the workday finished, William practically ran to the hospital to find out if all had gone as anticipated. A nurse stepped outside, looking quite tired as she slipped off her facemask. "Is she alright? Is it done? Can I go in?"

The nurse was shocked by the sudden flurry of questions but kept her calm and answered politely. "They're not done yet. They're all staying for overtime. The doctor predicts they'll be done at early morning. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must go home and rest." She left, leaving a rather dejected William behind. He looked at the hospital doors longingly, before deciding he too, should go home.

He'd find out if all went well, tomorrow morning.

Well... sorry for not having updated in ages... :/

It seems rushed, I know, but it's getting exciting, no? :P