Undertaker finished up with the body and put it in the cooler. He cleaned everything down and headed upstairs.

As he walked in, the grandfather clock struck ten o'clock at night. Reagan was sitting at the breakfast bar eating. She had changed into a pair of charcoal gray lounge pants and a dark blue racer back tank top. He noticed the slight turn of her head as he closed the door. Knowing he needed a shower after that last guest, he went into his room.

After a while, Undertaker came out, no longer smelling like decaying flesh and dressed in black sweat pants and a tee shirt. He went into the kitchen to get something to eat.

"I've got it," Reagan said as she put down the sandwich she eating and got up.

She opened the refrigerator and started pulling food out. He came over and leaned against the breakfast bar as he felt the anxiety roll off her. As she reached around him, to get a knife, Undertaker noticed a light sheen on her cheek. She's been crying. However, she wouldn't look at him.

"Poppet," he said, having a good idea what was wrong. He didn't miss the blush she got when Ciel mentioned that everyone could smell him on her.

"What?" Reagan replied as she kept her back to him as fixed him a sandwich. "It's not a big deal. I'm just a … ward." She whispered the last word.

Undertaker blinked for a moment then frowned. Did she just call herself only a 'ward'? "Ward, is that what you think I see you as?" She didn't reply. He sighed and came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Please stop, Reagan." He whispered in her ear. He lightly ran his fingers up and down her arms. Undertaker glanced down at her shoulders and back at the still visible scars that marred the beautiful girl in front of him.

She put down the knife she had been using. His scent floated around her, the soap he used, spice and vanilla. Reagan sighed softly. She had been embarrassed at what Ciel had said. The only thing she wanted to do was get out of the office as fast as she could. Now, the only thing she wanted to do was hide.

"You left the office because of what the little earl said, didn't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Undertaker felt her shoulders tense then relax, confirming what he knew. "Poppet … love …you realize, I already know."

Reagan closed her eyes, feeling even more embarrassed than before. She pushed away from him and tried to walk passed him to sit on the couch, but he wasn't having it.

Undertaker gently pulled her back in front of him. He nudged her chin with his forefinger so she would look up. Then a scent hit him, it was anxiety, adrenalin … she was afraid. He felt his heart constrict. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her loosely so if she felt the need to step away, she could.

"Hehe, love, have I ever given you any reason to think you're merely someone I'm obligated to take care of?" He waited for patiently for her to answer but she remained silent. "Oh, my precious poppet."

Instead of back away, Reagan stepped closer, gingerly wrapping her arms around his waist as if she were unsure if it was alright. She let herself be hidden from the world that seemed intent on taking everything from her.

"Was it that obvious?" she murmured against his chest.

He chuckled lightly, "Ah … hehe, no poppet. You're so careful about everything you do. A human wouldn't catch it." Feeling a shaky sigh come from Reagan, he smiled lightly and kissed the top of her head. He inhaled her scent along with the sweet body spray she used. "Are you going to look at me now?" She shook her head. Undertaker laughed, "Oh poppet, why are you afraid?"

"I … It's one-sided." She whispered.

Undertaker brought his hand to her cheek, cradling it. Her lips curled into a sweet smile as she leaned into his hand. He couldn't help but giggle, "Love, you are so observant about everything around you … hehe … except for the one thing in front of you." He leaned down and nuzzled her temple.

Reagan slightly turned her head and looked up only to find his lips gently brushing against hers, testing her boundaries. Her eyes widened. He didn't move let her sweet breath wash over him, let her decide what she wanted. She looked at him, watching as his lips held a soft smile. His phosphorescent eyes searched her ice blue ones.

"Undertaker, I ..." Reagan began, but he put a finger to her lips.

"I know Charles told you my real name." he whispered.

She nodded, "He told me to wait on you."

He smiled broadly, "Thank you for following his instructions. There are few people that I trust with that piece of information." He remarked as brushed his bangs from his face.

"I understand …" Reagan said, biting her lip.

"Love, say my name." He gently commanded.

She looked up at him, "Adrian."

He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, whispering against them, "Mmm, very good poppet." Adrian's lips gently moved against hers, perfectly content to take his time.

Reagan relaxed into the kiss, sighing softly. Her fingers gingerly traced his cheek. As much as he would have liked to take advantage of her sighing to taste her. Adrian knew he couldn't push or rush her.

He pulled back slowly, his voice low. "Don't ever think that you are merely a 'ward'. You mean more than you know." A tear slid down her cheek and Reagan quickly looked away, a blush spreading across her cheeks. He chuckled softly, "Hehe ... such a lovely blush. It's getting late and we both need to eat."

Adrian motioned for her to sit down at the table. He finished the sandwich she was making, picked up her plate and sat down with her. They talked quietly while they ate. Afterward, Reagan cleaned up the table and did the dishes as he watched her.

The phone rang causing both to jump slightly. Adrian answered it seeing that it was the Yard. He talked for about thirty minutes, hung up the phone and put it back on the cradle. Turning to Reagan, he saw that she was no longer in the kitchen. He looked in the library but didn't see her. Looking at her bedroom door, he saw that it was closed but the light was one. He took a step but decided better of it. She needs time to process that conversation. I know Charles never explained to her the arrangements. Everything she's ever loved has been taken from her. Does she truly not see how beautiful she is. He thought as he walked into his bedroom.

He laid down in his coffin-shaped bed and tried to read but his thoughts kept coming back to her. There were times that he would come out from the back after finishing up with a body, to find her sitting at the counter. The way she would hide her hands when she was nervous. The way her ice blue eyes seemed to look through you. The wayshe would match Ciel's posture without fear when he was getting cocky. The way the light would catch her dark chestnut hair bringing out the auburn highlights when they were out running errands. The way his touch could relax her when they were somewhere crowded. Her own brand of sarcastic morbid sense of humor. Slowly his mind began to relax and his body soon followed.

His mind slowly began to register a sound. As he groggily looked over at the clock. It's three in the morning. Adrian sat up and listened. Hearing someone moving around, he pulled on his outer robe that he still wore around the shop and stepped out of the room. He noticed that Reagan's door was open. Ah, that explains it.

Adrian found Reagan sitting in the dark, perched on the back of the couch with her knees pulled to her chest. She wasn't aware of him yet so he decided to watch her for a few minutes. She still had her tank top on but had traded the pants for sleeping shorts. He noticed a small box and two envelopes on the coffee table.

"Why can no one tell me what I did to deserve all of this?" Reagan whispered, to what she thought was an empty room. "Why do I always have to look over my shoulder?"

A pained expression ghosted over his face as he listened to her quietly unburden herself. He turned the living room lights up to dim as not to startle her too much. Reagan looked up and saw his reflection in the glass. She immediately groaned, realizing that he had to have heard what she said as she buried her face in her knees.

Adrian chuckled softly, "Poppet, why are you awake?" He walked up behind her and started combing through her hair with his fingers. After a few minutes, he saw her shoulders relax and her anxiety lessen.

"How long were you standing there?" she asked, looking back out the window.

He bent his head down and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Long enough, poppet." Adrian pulled her hair to the side so he could look at her back. He gently ran his fingers over the scars that weren't covered by her top.

Reagan pulled away from his touch. "Please don't trace them." She asked firmly.

He softly kissed her shoulder and whispered. "Are the deeper ones hurting?" She nodded slowly. "How long, poppet?"

"The past couple of days."

"Reagan … hehe, I'm assuming your current state has to do with the package you got yesterday?" he asked gesturing to the coffee table. Again, she nodded but didn't verbally answer. He went back to combing through her hair. "Then ask, love."

"Why …" she asked, "why did you kiss me?"

Adrian blinked several times before answering, "Poppet, have you not figured it out yet?" He wrapped his arms around her as he nuzzled her ear, "You're precious."

Reagan growled and then stood up "Everyone says that but why? What is so important about me and my oddities. Why is it, ever since I was twelve, people have tried to take me from my family? Out of all the people that dad knew, why you?" She fumed as she picked up everything on the coffee table and walked to her room.

He stood there with his hand over his mouth, letting her release the pent-up anger and frustration that came with reading the letter from her late father. He didn't miss the flash of green that laced through her eyes nor the slight breeze that ruffled her hair as she got more irritated. Looks like those answers must happen soon rather than later.

Adrian followed her and sat down on the chaises, patiently waiting on her to stop pacing like a caged leopard. She sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. He got up, walked over to the bed and sat down in front of her. Reagan rested her chin on her knees, the phosphorescent green fading from her ice blue eyes.

He cradled her cheek in his hand, "Good love, now are you ready for your answers?" Reagan took a deep breath and nodded. Adrian couldn't help but chuckle, "I truly feel sorry for the poor soul that is … hehe … on the receiving end of your temper, poppet."

She giggled lightly, "yeah dad mentioned that in his letter. Dad was supposed to give me that letter on my twenty-first birthday next month."

Adrian nodded, "Yes, that was how things were to go."

Scoffing, she looked over at her desk, "We don't always get what we want, do we?"

"No, poppet, we don't always." He said as he tucked a few strands of chestnut hair behind her ear.

"So what am I?" Reagan asked softly.

"You, my precious Reagan, were born human with several abilities only belong to Shinigami." He paused, gauging her reaction.

Reagan rested her forehead on her knees and mumbled, "Great, so I'm a freaking half-breed."

"No, a hybrid is something different." He explained as he coaxed her to look at him. "A hybrid is created from a reaper and a human."

She frowned, "I don't understand. I know both of my parents were human." She thought for a moment. "Are you saying that at some point the blood of a reaper was introduced into my family's line."

Adrian chuckled, "Hehe, very good poppet. At some point, yes and that inclusion set things in motion for you to be born." He watched as Reagan ran her hands through her hair. "Charles trusted me with the person he held closest to his heart. He asked me about your abilities when they started to show."

"What did you tell him?" Reagans questioned, not sure she wanted to hear what he told her dad.

"The last time there was someone like you born, love, I was very young." He answered.

Reagan raised an eyebrow, "How young is young?

"I was less than two hundred years old," Adrian said. A look of shock came over Reagan's face. "You, Reagan, are a Judicia."