"Young master, we are being followed." Sebastian narrowed his eyes, having no need to turn around for visual confirmation. He sensed the crimson reaper's approach before Grell even called out to him, and when he heard the first "Yoo-hoo" from Grell's lips, he knew it was too late to try and lose him in the crowd.

Most of the problem lay with Ciel and his vehement dislike of the redhead. Sebastian himself—while finding him annoying at times—secretly enjoyed teasing him. Informing him that he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue, for example. That alone had almost been enough to invoke a nosebleed. Truth be told, the reaper wasn't unattractive to him. It was that mouth of his and the way he was constantly running it…and their was also the fact that he was a reaper.

But at least he used proper English when he spoke.

"Se-bas-tian~" Grell sang out fondly. But rather than taking a flying leap at the butler, the demon was surprised when the redhead simply slipped his arm into his and leaned in lovingly, "Darling~ Might I ask you a favor of talking with me~?" he cooed, his finger of his free hand tracing swirls up on the man's lapel of his tailcoat. "I promise no jumping you if you do~"

The butler glanced down at his master—who was giving the reaper a decidedly unfriendly look with his uncovered eye. "That depends on my lord."

He nearly pushed Grell away, but he found it more amusing to allow his fawning and watch the distaste grow on Ciel's boyish countenance. The young Earl had an odd sense of jealousy when it came to others vying for his attention. It wasn't the jealousy of a lover by any means, but of a boy who—like it or not—had come to see Sebastian as the closest thing to a father figure he'd had since the tragedy that brought them together. The demon put up with a lot from his master, and once in a while it was entertaining to subtly push his buttons.

After all, Sutcliff wasn't attacking or touching him improperly…yet.

Grell blinked and looked down his nose at the boy. The brat had gotten in his way far too many times—and had gone back on promises. He had no trust for the kid and his respect and caring for him was severely lacking.

"Willy-bear wanted to know if you've seen Unnie-bunny." he cooed at the boy in a snide tone. "I just want to spend time with Sebby-darling~"

Ciel sighed, rubbing his temple, "Why on earth did he send you? No, I have not seen any annoying reapers other than you since the old loon was captured. I was supposed to be granted a meeting with him, but here it seems you have lost him. Quite disappointing. Can your kind do nothing right?"

Sebastian dearly wanted to counter his master's answer and tell the reaper the truth, if only to put another obstacle before the Undertaker. He could not go against Ciel that way, however. He was sworn never to betray him. Besides, Undertaker and his doll companion were both long gone. Any advantage he might have had in giving him away was gone with him.

"My young lord desired to see the carnival," said the butler instead. He looked down at the boy and smirked. "Children tend to enjoy such festivities…even the ones who tend to forget they are still children."

Ciel scowled and turned away.

"Hmm… but what was the portal energies all about not long ago? Surely it wasn't you… Demonic portals are much darker in energy signatures." Grell cooed, leaning in closer to the demonic butler, "Com on, Love~ If you do me a favor, I'll do you one~ We need to find Unnie so he's not causing dispatch any more problems, that's all!"

"I am afraid I can't help you with that," answered Sebastian. "I sensed the anomaly too, but found nothing there. If the Undertaker was here, he's obviously gone now. As the young master said, the only reaper we have seen tonight is you."

The redhead pushed his lip out in a pout, "Fine, I believe you…but it's disappointing! You should make it up to me with a nice evening out after little boys are in bed~" he winked and pressed a kiss to the demon's cheek before pulling away and dancing a few steps back out of reach with a giggle, "If the brat will let you our for dinner that is~" he blew a kiss at the demon before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Sebastian shook his head, smirking. "Well, that was handled easily enough. My lord, shall we return to the estate?"

"He's such a bother. His being reasonable makes me suspicious. Don't let your guard down. He may be tailing us. Lets go home." Ciel said, starting on his way out of the carnival.

~xox~

"Sorry your time with the boy was cut short," offered the Undertaker when they arrived back at the hidden little house. "Seems Dispatch is watching him like a hawk, figuring I've still got unfinished business with him. I just hope he was convincing enough to fool them if they questioned him. I think he's still irritated enough with me to put on a good front, though."

Undertaker unlocked and opened the door, waiting for Vincent to go inside before following him. There was a chill in the air, so he got to work on starting a fire in the hearth. "I could use a spot of tea myself. What about you, love?"

"How about a brandy if we have any?" Vincent asked, shedding his coat and hat, hanging them on the coat rack before heading to his room to shed more layers of clothes to his button-down shirt.

When he returned, he walked up behind Undertaker; who was watching the flames, making sure they took and wouldn't die too soon. He slipped is arms around the reaper and kissed his shoulder, "Thank you…for letting me be selfish today." he whispered.

The mortician smiled and turned his head to look over his shoulder at him. "What's selfish about wanting to see your boy, Vincent? Of the two of us, I'd say I'm the selfish one."

He poked at the logs a little and then put the screen back into place to keep the embers from jumping out. "And I believe we do have some brandy." He put the poker back and he straightened up, turning around in Vincent's embrace to return it. "That's one thing I try to keep stocked, in the way of spirits. I'll rummage around for a fresh bottle if you'd like to watch the fire for me. I think I could use a nip myself."

Vincent nodded, "Please." he cupped the reaper's cheek fondly before the taller man pulled away to pour them their glasses.

"It helped." he added, raising his voice enough so it could be heard in the kitchen, "My memories, I mean. Seeing him, spending time with him, talking to him… It helped bring back more fond memories—not just of him, but of Rachel…and you."

"Then I say it's a good thing," called the Undertaker with a grin. He found one of the bottles of brandy he'd stored away in an upper cabinet and he got out some glasses to start pouring it. "I know you didn't get much time together, but was it at least favorable?"

With Ciel, it was difficult to be sure. It wouldn't have surprised him to hear that the boy had leveled some accusation of abandonment at Vincent, but maybe he was too happy to see him alive again to do such a thing. As he'd told Vincent before: the little Earl was likely more angry with him for failing to save his family than he was at his father for dying.

"It was…after we talked a few things out. Mostly about my relationship with you and how it affected Rachel. He didn't seem too pleased at the confirmation of our secret. But he seemed to accept it, by the end." He sat down on the sofa and waited for Undertaker to join him.

The reaper returned to the parlor with the drinks, and he took his seat beside Vincent and handed his over to him. "Indeed. The boy asked me about it when I went to retrieve your locket from him so that I could finish my work and bring you back. It wasn't a conversation I'd have liked to have with the lil' fellow, but he boxed me in. Seems he recalls seeing us kiss at some point in the study. Whoopsy."

Undertaker clinked his glass against the doll's and took a sip of his brandy. "I suppose we must not have locked the door one night and neither of us heard the little stinker come poking around. He must have blocked it from his memory. Sorry about that, love."

"It's in the past…and if kissing is all he saw then there really isn't any harm done." The former Earl said, sipping his drink and letting it sit on his tongue a moment before swallowing, "Had we been stripped of our clothing and quite deeply involved within each other's company, then I dear say we would have a problem."

Undertaker chuckled at that. "Death forbid the poor boy see you licking my boots. He's been through enough, without that sight burned into his memory." He nudged him teasingly, smirking. "Now me on the other hand, I always appreciated a good boot-licking…and the delightful aggression I got from you once you got worked up over it."

"You're quite obvious in hinting what you would like to have happen, my Undertaker." Vincent said, sipping his drink again and setting it on the small coffee table before he moved closer, taking Undertaker's glass and setting it aside as well. He soon was straddling his lap and found himself running his fingers through a lock of silver hair, combing it out before he began to braid it.

The mortician put his arms around him, grinning with delight and a little mischief. "Can't say as I'd object to that love, but I know you probably still need more time to adjust." He ran his nails down Vincent's back, practically purring as the man played with his hair. "Mmm, I always liked this, too."

"My mind's adjusted…it's caught up to what my heart knew all along…" Vincent seemed to coo, then he rested forward against the reaper with a small smile, "You're the judge on my body…"

Undertaker let his hands slide lower, curving down over the mounds of Vincent's rump. "I don't think I've given you a proper physical yet, since we came here. I wonder if I should." His grin returned and he nibbled Vincent's lower lip, before tracing it with his tongue. "It'd be a terrible shame to let this body fall under disrepair from neglect, hmm?"

He was reacting shamelessly to Vincent's coy playing, swelling under his robes quickly. It wouldn't be long before he reached full mast and his pants were already getting too tight for comfort.

"No, you haven't. You have only checked this." he ran his fingers over the scar left from his procedure. The stitches having been taken out only a few days before. "My body moves correctly, and I was successful at one of those carnival shooting games, so function doesn't seem to be a problem…and you have been more focused on my mental state."

The former Earl leaned in closer, nipping his ear, "Lets see if I can thank you properly for taking such good care of me…"

Undertaker swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry throat. Having only the company of his hand during the years of Vincent's absence, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd fallen out of practice. The time gap wasn't as noticeable to Vincent, because he'd basically spent it in hibernation. For Undertaker though, each day without him had felt like a year in itself. His hands moved from Vincent's backside around to his hips, then his thighs. His touch was confident, even though he harbored some uncertainty himself.

"So far everything seems to be in working order," purred the reaper as his palms slid up and down Vincent's straddling inner thighs. He turned his head slightly to trace the man's lips with his tongue again. "Feeling any swelling or pressure I might need to check out, love?"

He grinned, knowing full well by the bulge his fingers had briefly brushed against what the answer to that was.

"Well, maybe one…" Vincent smirked, leaning in close, his inner thigh pressing against Undertaker's own tent he'd pitched. "…But it seems you have the same symptoms as I. It would not be good if it's contagious. We should see about treating you, as well."

Ah, Vincent hadn't lost his sensual touch at all. Undertaker teasingly skimmed his fingernails over the bulge in the man's crotch, not quite touching it yet, but providing a tantalizing hint of things to come.

He gazed into Vincent's altered eyes as he raised his other hand to begin unbuttoning his vest. "Checking vitals is important," he murmured.

He got the vest undone and he removed Vincent's ascot, before working on his shirt. He parted the material to bare his chest, and he laid a cool palm over the surface of it.

"Heart's beating good and strong, but it's a bit accelerated." He grinned and finished: "I wonder why that is?"

Vincent smiled and slipped his fingers down Undertaker's front, undoing the many buttons and working himself down to his bare pale chest. Leaning down, he pressed his ear over his heart, closing his eyes as he listened, "I may not be a man of medical experience…but your heart seems a bit fast as well." he commented, running his fingertips along a scar crossing Undertaker's torso. He turned his head and kissed him just above a pert, pink nipple, "I'm inclined to think you are excited. Are you?" he asked, planting a few more kisses before the very tip of his tongue poked out and danced over his skin.

"Not a bad prognosis, for an amateur," Undertaker breathed with a grin. His breath caught a bit and he had to rein in the urge to grab this man and ravish him. When he was sure Vincent was comfortable enough with him, he would stop restraining himself.

Vincent stood up at that and pulled the reaper's hand to follow him, "We should do this properly." he said, leading the way to the bedroom, "It should be special."

"Oh, I agree," said the Undertaker readily, his garments sliding off his white shoulders as he allowed himself to be led to the bedroom.

He smiled, remembering a very similar attitude from his lover the first time they consummated their relationship. His hair got caught on a nail as he tried to follow Vincent through the threshold of the doorway to the bedroom, and he flailed a bit and cursed, pulling his hand out of the doll's to try and disentangle himself. "Er, one moment, love. I…seem to be caught."

Vincent blinked in surprise, "…Of all things to try and ruin the mood…a nail?" he asked, moving to help the reaper.

Undertaker felt distinctly embarrassed as his companion came to his rescue. "Silly, eh? Of all the things to take me down, a wayward nail does the trick. Good thing I've got a diligent prince charming to come rescue me."

He started to snicker uncontrollably, reminded of how many times his odd quirks had turned serious or romantic encounters with Vincent into shared moments of laughter. "I really don't do this on purpose, lover," he managed between huffs of mirth.

"I think you do. I think you like being my damsel in distress." Vincent teased, gathering Undertaker's hair and slipping it all over one shoulder so that it wasn't likely to get caught again as he resumed leading him to the bed.

Still chuckling softly, the reaper gamely followed. "I believe you once told me I was an ancient child, darlin'." He sank down on the bed with Vincent and he shrugged out of his loosened garments. Suddenly nervous, he sobered and he let his bangs fall over his lowered eyes as he took Vincent's hands in his.

"Funny thing, this. I was the one to initiate everything and here I am now, worrying over every move I make. It's not my usual behavior, love…I just…want to know you really want it. You aren't my toy; you're my Vincent."

"I know," Vincent whispered, "Undertaker…I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't sure of your feelings for me…and mine for you… I love you, I really do."

The reaper felt such joy at that simple declaration that he could have died on the spot and been forever happy. He smiled at Vincent, and he embraced him as he backed him up into the room and against the bed.

"Then you don't mind this crazy old mortician sharing your bed from now on?"

"Our bed." Vincent corrected, "It's too lonely without you." He played with Undertaker's hair again. "You're my lover, Undertaker, and this time…nothing's stopping us from being together."

"I…I think my laughter may soon come back to me," muttered Undertaker. It was a stupid thing to say…made no bloody sense to most anyone except himself, but the smile given to him in response from Vincent assured him that there was at least one other person in the world who understood.

He hugged Vincent close and he lifted him up with his supernatural strength, waddling over to the bed with him. "Not letting go," he teased, even as tears pricked his eyes. He kissed the former Earl passionately, letting all those long years of guilt, anguish and devotion spill forth in his passion.

"Good…laughter suits you more than anything, Undertaker. I want to see it back in your eyes," Vincent whispered into Undertaker's kiss, pressing forward and deepening the kiss; parting his lips to invite the other inside.

~Oh, how you move me, Earl.~

Undertaker did not bother saying it aloud. He practically tossed Vincent on the bed and he covered his body with his own, returning his kisses with enthusiasm. This was…real. Vincent was back with him. The ancient showered his returned lover with kisses, unable to hold back. He tossed his head to flip his long, silver hair over to one side and he lowered his mouth to Vincent's again, purring in his throat as he rubbed up against him.

Too tight…too many barriers. Their clothing was a hindrance. Undertaker snarled silently and he bent a leg to unbuckle a boot.

Vincent's hand slipped down Undertaker's side to his hand working on one of the many buckles of his boots, "Those last." he requested breathlessly. "There are other things that can go right now…"

The mortician chuckled and obligingly left off what he was doing, not really surprised. After all, there had been quite a few times in the past when he'd left the boots on during the whole encounter, at the Earl's request. He kissed him again and settled for unfastening his pants to at least relieve some of the pressure against his swollen crotch.

"I've dreamt of this," he purred, "so many nights, I've lain awake remembering your touch…craving it. This is my slice of Heaven, love." He plunged his tongue into Vincent's mouth to fence with his, and he slipped his hand between his legs to fondle his package through the trousers.

"Hmmmh…" Vincent reacted to the touch, rolling his hips up against the reaper's hand as his fingers ran over Undertaker's hips and bottom. With a moan, he pulled back from the deep kiss just enough so that he could speak without choking on his lover's tongue, "Then let me show you the Heaven you have been so cruelly denied for so many years."

"Who could say no to that?" Undertaker smiled and nipped playfully at the other man's ear, teasing the lobe with his teeth and tongue. He gave his package a light squeeze, and then resumed massaging it.

"Certainly not you." Vincent smiled, He lifted his hips, pushing his slacks off along with his underpants, kicking them off and onto the floor. Then he shifted, guiding Undertaker onto his back where he crawled over him, kissing his way down his muscular white body, fingers tugging his slacks down off his hips so that he could nibble and suck on the soft flesh.

"Mmm, is my darling hungry for something?" teased the reaper. His erection twitched as it was exposed to view. He stroked his lover's hair and watched as his lips trailed kisses over his albino-pale flesh, his breath quickening with excitement. Vincent had a way of enticing him so easily, and that hadn't changed in the time they'd been apart.

"Not as starved as you are." Vincent purred before suddenly taking his lover's member into his mouth. His lips slowly sliding along the length of his member, tongue lightly sliding along the underside. He let out a hum and somehow managed to swallow around the thick, needy sex.

Undertaker trembled and his breath caught, his body singing with delight in response to the erotic treatment. He closed his eyes and sighed, stroking Vincent's hair as he allowed himself to relax and savor the wet pleasure of his oral attentions. "Mercy," he groaned, "I'd…forgotten how good you are with that mouth, my lord."

He referred to him that way out of old habit, despite Vincent's request that he not do it anymore. Of course, the sexual gratification he was getting from the man's talented ministrations made it easy to lapse back into applying the title. He felt he could happily be Vincent's willing slave right now.

Vincent pulled back and met Undertaker's gaze, "Don't call me that…please. The Evil Nobleman is gone. That's what the assassin took from you. He left you with the father…and the lover."

The proud Phantomhive crawled up Undertaker's body, pressing his lips to paler ones, "Maybe it's time we find new pet names for each other, my love." he said in a gentler tone, his fingers threading through silver locks. "No longer is this a forbidden love between Earl and Informant…"

"Ahh, force of habit," excused the mortician with a smile. He stroked Vincent's hair lovingly. "Try not to be too cross with me for it, love. It may take a while for me to scratch that moniker off the list, but rest assured; when I say that, I mean it in the sense that you're my lord…and no-one else's."

He let his hand slide down Vincent's back to caress his naked bottom, reveling in the feel of the tight, smooth curve of it. "I've been trying to be a good little death god and not get too aggressive or territorial with you while you're adjusting, but I must confess it satisfies an oddly lingering, guilty little kink for authority when you allow the Earl to come out and boss me around, now and then. Call it a crutch if you will, but I've always preferred my lovers to have a backbone with me, darlin'."

He licked Vincent's chin and grinned, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "I suppose I'm a bit of a whore for it."

"A whore, hmm?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow. He grabbed Undertaker's wrist and brought his hand up to his lips, nipping on the reaper's finger before lowering it and pressing them to Undertaker's own mouth, "Then you can suck them yourself." he commanded, "I'm sure you know how."

Without verbal response, the reaper obligingly retracted his nails and began to suck on his own finger, eyes flashing with teasing challenge as he gazed up at his lover. He circled the pad of his first two fingertips with his pink tongue, before drawing them into his mouth. He subtly lifted his hips to grind his exposed erection against Vincent's, and he half-closed his eyes. The snowy fringe of his eyelashes partially masked the flash of his gaze as he licked and sucked his fingers as ordered.

The former Earl hummed, his length growing harder yet as he looked down at his reaper lover, white hair spread out over the comforter and pillows like rivers of snow. With a groan, he pulled the hand from his lover's mouth and covered his lips with his own, guiding his hand around to his rear, "Now prep me." he demanded sensually against pale, moist lips.

Undertaker barely managed to hold off a groan of lust. He'd had the foresight to keep a jar of ointment for just such a purpose in the drawer of the bedside table, and he compliantly reached to get it, keeping his heavy-lidded gaze on his lover.

"Your wish is my command, my dear," he purred.

He opened the jar and he scooped a bit out with his fingers, smearing it over them and rubbing his palms together before collecting a little more and thoroughly coating his fingers with it. He set the jar aside and he reached around and teasingly traced the valley between Vincent's buttocks, while simultaneously gripping the length of his erection and slicking the substance over it. He lifted his hips a little as he stroked his cock, and he gently eased a finger into Vincent.

"Does this satisfy, love?" He smirked coyly up at him.

"Ah—ohh…." Vincent's brown and blue swirled eyes closed, his head falling forward and his forehead rested against Undertaker's collarbone as his entrance stretched over the long, thin finger that began to massage and work his walls into a looser state. Mentally, it felt like it had only been a few weeks since he and his lover had last become one…but his body seemed to know the true amount of time they had spent apart and away from each other's touches. A single finger sent such thrills through his body as it pumped in and out and curling against his inner walls until he was loose enough for a second finger and then a third.

"Ahnn…" he arched his back, rolling his hips ever so slightly as he ran his hands down along Undertaker's sides to his hips and then back up over his abs and chest to his shoulders.

A third finger pushed inside, working him looser yet and nearly driving him mad with need for more. The sprout of greed and lust made his next actions all too easy when he couldn't wait any longer.

Vincent sat up, panting as he lifted himself off Undertaker's long fingers and grabbed the jar of ointment, using it to help slicken his lover's throbbing shaft before setting it aside once more and positioning himself over his length, lowering himself onto Undertaker's head and pausing teasingly, holding down Undertaker's hips to stop him from eagerly thrusting upwards.

"Ah-ah. I didn't tell you that you could let loose yet." he purred, making sure his lover relax back down, trembling slightly under the former earl.

He waited a moment more, testing the reaper before he reached down, snatching up handfuls of white tresses on either side of Undertaker's head and yanking them to make the man sit up at the same time he sank himself down onto the reaper's begging length.

"Ah-ahh!"

"Ungh…sweet mother death," groaned the reaper helplessly, twitching inside his companion in response to the rough treatment. "Oh damn…Vincent…"

He embraced him and caught his breath, trying not to move until given his prompt to do so. He kissed his shoulder and collarbone, running his tongue over the smooth skin as he panted. "Love…oh, you feel so good."

He couldn't decide whether he wanted to cry or laugh, his emotions and pleasure were both so strong. He loved this man so much; and it had been hell for him to lose him. He started to chuckle uncontrollably, even as he struggled with himself for control. "Styx, I love you."

Vincent's face was flushed a lovely pink color, his own action taking him by surprise just as it had Undertaker. he panted a moment before he found his voice again and pulled his love into a kiss, "Ohh—dear God, you feel good! I'd forgotten…" he breathed, lifting himself back up along his lover's long and thick shaft and lowering himself back down it with a throaty groan, "I didn't…know how much I missed this, until now. Undertaker…Good Heavens, I love you..!" he slid back up and down a little faster.

"Hahh…maybe…maybe I'm the whore for you…" he panted.

The reaper laughed breathlessly. "Then do I have your permission to move now, my lord?" His teeth flashed in a white grin as he teasingly thrust beneath him, just enough to wedge his length deeper inside and make Vincent's breath catch.

"I'd also like permission to touch." He ran his fingertips over Vincent's straining thighs and pelvis, and he shook his pale hair out of his eyes so that he could see him more clearly.

"Yes." Vincent breathed, shivering in delight from the small samples Undertaker gave him, "Yes, you can move freely and touch where you like…"

He raked his fingers through his lover's hair, pulling his fringe and locks back out of his face completely as he gazed lovingly into his eyes.

Undertaker began to pump beneath him, breath hitching with pleasure. So tight…almost like a virgin. "D-darlin'," he groaned, "tell me if I hurt you. Bloody hell…so tight…"

He started to thrust faster, one hand grabbing Vincent's flexing ass and the other curling around his erection to stroke it. The feel of his gripping, moist heat around him was intoxicating, and he snarled as he fought against his urges to flip him over and pound into him.

Vincent let out a long moan, hugging Undertaker and panting along with his lover's thrusts against his scarred neck. "Ohh—no, perfect…you're perfect…" he said, rocking his hips to meet with Undertaker's movements.

"Oh gods," moaned the reaper. He couldn't bear it any longer. He rolled forward, easing Vincent onto his back. He kept stroking his arousal as he propped himself up with his free arm and started taking him hard and fast. "S-so sorry, love…I…too long…been too long!"

He tossed his head to flip his hair over to one side and he kissed Vincent's gasping lips, muffling his cries and purring with delight.

"Mmmh-mhh!" Vincent moaned shamelessly into the kiss, wrapping his legs around Undertaker and hooking his ankles together at the small of his back to encage him in the position he had rolled them into.

His mind started to buzz pleasantly, making the rest of the world fall away around him and leaving the feeling that they were the only two in the universe.

Vincent lifted his hips off the bed by an inch, allowing his lover a better angle to thrust into him as he concentrated on pleasing Undertaker's lips.

The reaper growled softly against those sinfully tempting lips, his breath huffing as he changed his rhythm to sharp, deep thrusts. He knew just how to dive in…he'd never forgotten how to pleasure his love.

"Right there," he grunted with a smile as Vincent cried out. He pushed in firmly and rotated his hips. "That's where you like it, I believe."

Not normally one for severe vulgarities, Undertaker tossed his head back and blurted a curse as his lover ruthlessly clamped down on his massaging cock. "Fuck…oh, Vincent!"

"Uh—'taker!" Vincent writhed, loosing control as his member throbbed and begged for release, "—Long, too long! I—I—ah!" His back arched, body stiffening as the heat in his gut gave way and spilled forth over his lover's hand, and he clamped down on the reaper's shoulder to muffle his cries of completion.

Undertaker wasn't far behind. He tried to last…he truly did…but his lover's vocalizations and the feel of him clenching spasmodically around him did him in. He groaned helplessly and shoved hard into him, unloading everything he had with a breathless exclamation of pleasure.

"Oh…oh love," he panted, shaking from head to toe as the climax washed over him. He bowed his head and he stopped stroking Vincent's sated cock, doing his best not to collapse on him. He swallowed and he drudged up the strength to lift his head enough to smile down at him. He kissed his gasping lips tenderly, relaxing on top of him.

"I can usually go longer than that," he apologized in a winded voice. "It's just been so long…like you said. I'll make it last longer, next time."

"We could always…go for round two once we rest a bit…refresh ourselves…" The man panted, lying limp upon the bed as he gazed up at Undertaker, "To make up for our coming earlier than normal…"

"Oh yes," approved the reaper with a nod. "We can and we definitely shall, my Vincent. Just…allow an old bloke to catch his breath and recover first."

He started to laugh, that old joy which he'd feared might be gone forever bubbling back up within him.

Vincent smiled, moving to rest his cheek against Undertaker's chest, his ear pressed against his pectoral and listening to the soothing sound of his pounding heart as the man laughed. The mortician stroked his blue-black hair as the laughter slowly died down, and he rolled off of him and pulled him into his embrace.

"Feels like I'm home again," murmured Undertaker softly, kissing Vincent's forehead. "Thank you, darlin'."

"And this time…I'm not going anywhere." Vincent smiled.

The mortician sighed happily and rubbed his back. "I'll hold you to that, my love."

~xox~

William was suffering mixed feelings of relief and frustration as he filed the report. Once again, the Undertaker had slipped through their grasp and it was again reflecting badly on his division. He made no excuses for himself or his agents. None were required, really. The fugitive was a mad genius, after all. Even as he fretted over his inability to bring the Undertaker in, William was quietly thankful that he hadn't succeeded yet. His admiration for the man kept growing as every effort Dispatch made to capture him got foiled. Instead of dwelling on his failure, he began to focus on attempting to find out how Undertaker escaped the hospital to begin with. Someone had to have helped him, and the last person known to have visited him was Lawrence Anderson.

"Pops?" Eric said when he, Ronald and Grell were called in to discuss the investigation. "I dun' believe it. He'd ne'er betray Dispatch."

"I don't know…He's old as dirt, Pop's old as dirt…" Ron shrugged.

"Ohhh don't suggest it!" Grell huffed, "He's a cute old man simply making glasses all day! No way he'd help out sexy old Unnie out the window!"

"I know that none of us want to believe it," William said sternly, "but everyone else who had contact with the fugitive that day has already been questioned. As Ronald said; they are both quite old and I know they once worked together in the field. We must at least question him, regardless of how uncomfortable the thought of doing so makes us. Now please, no more arguments. Just escort him to my office so that I may clear this up. He likely has nothing to do with it at all, but I would be remiss to cross him off the list of possible suspects entirely. I'm certain he will understand."

Eric grimaced uncomfortably. "I'm no' really in love wi' tha thought of manhandlin' one of our elders, boss."

"I am sure he will come peacefully," answered William. "Mr. Anderson is a civilized man. You needn't drag him in here in cuffs. Simply escort him and stay while I question him."

"This is wrong! He works hard at making perfect glasses. No way would he take part in a jailbreak!" Grell huffed.

"It wasn't jail. It was a hospital." Ron pointed out, "And orders are orders. If you make me do this alone I'm making you do all the paperwork!"

"Don't be a smart-ass, Ronnie."

"A'right, everyone calm down," sighed Eric. "I dun' like this either, but the boss is righ'. We cannae jus' ignore Pops' visit wi' tha Undertaker jus' cause we're fond o' tha man. We can at east clear this up an' get him off tha list of suspects if we bring him in, right?"

"Thank you, Eric," said William. "Grell, listen to your coworkers. Most of our work is unpleasant and this is just another example of that. Don't make me regret trusting you on this assignment."

"As long as I'm off by this evening. I'm going to see if I can catch Sebby alone to ask him a few things. Ciel makes him shut up quite firmly, after all."

"Just avoid over-doing it, Sutcliff," cautioned William. "If he does have information we could use, practicing a bit of tact might be worthwhile."

~xox~

Lawrence wasn't very surprised to see the three Dispatch agents approach him, all of them wearing regretful expressions on their young faces. They looked a bit like mourners at a funeral, and he could guess what their visit was about before any of them even said anything. The Scotsman was in the lead as they came up to his table, and he greeted him solemnly.

"Sorry tae interrupt yer work, Pops, but ye've got ta come wi' us fer a little while."

Anderson set aside the new pair of glasses he was making adjustments to, and he stood up. "Might I enquire what this is all about, gentlemen?"

He already knew the answer, though.

"You visited Unnie and Now Will thinks you helped him escape." Grell sighed.

"He doesn't. He just needs to make sure and look at every angle to the geezer's escape." Ronald corrected. "He sent us to escort you."

Lawrence nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, I shan't decline the invitation. Shall we?"

Eric lowered his gaze and nodded. "Sorry."

Feeling some pity for the Scotsman and guessing this was harder on him and Grell than Ronald, Lawrence patted him solicitously on the arm and shook his head. "Think nothing of it, Officer Slingby. Protocol must be followed if order is to be maintained in the workplace."

Eric nodded again. "Then let's be off."

~xox~

William was pacing in his office when the trio of agents returned with the head of the Glasses Department. He stopped and turned as they came into his office, with Lawrence looking composed and dignified while the three younger reapers looked faintly miserable.

"Mr. Anderson," greeted William cordially. He gestured at the leather chair on the other side of his desk. "Please take a seat, sir."

"Thank you." Lawrence sat down in the chair, while Eric shut and locked the office door.

William joined the older reaper, taking his seat behind his desk and sighing softly with regret that he even had to do this. "I must first apologize for this," he said with all sincerity. "No-one wishes to accuse you of anything. I would like to make that clear before we begin."

Lawrence retrieved his tobacco pouch and pipe from his vest. "I understand, Mr. Spears. Do you mind if I smoke?"

Ordinarily William would never allow anyone to light up a tobacco product in his office, but he made an exception and he nodded. "By all means, feel free."

Lawrence packed the bowl and ignited the pipe. A vaguely cherry-scented smoke wafted into the air as he drew on it. "Thank you, son."

William closed his eyes briefly; the only outward sign of his internal struggle. "Sir, records show that you visited the Undertaker while he was in our custody…and he escaped shortly after that. If you would state for the record exactly what—"

"I did it."

William's eyes widened slightly, and Eric turned and stared. The Dispatch supervisor cleared his throat and swallowed. "I…I apologize, but what precisely are you alluding to having done, Mr. Anderson?"

"I helped my friend escape," obliged the older reaper. "And I regret nothing."

"What?!" Grell rushed forward and spun Lawrence's chair to face him, "No, you didn't! You give no one special treatment in anything! Why take the fall for Unnie's escape?"

"Grell-senpai, let him speak." Ron said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall near the windows.

"Dear lady," said Lawrence fondly to Grell, "There are some things in life more important than protocol. An enduring friendship happens to be one of them."

He turned his chair back around to face William. "Yes, I did it. I expect no special treatment myself, but in this case, I had to make an exception to my usual rule. I cannot count how many times that man has saved my life in the past. Repayment was long overdue, and there are some things I hold to higher honor than the rules."

Troubled, William took a moment to decide on his best course of action. "Sir…you do realize that such a confession must go on record. I will have no choice but to have you incarcerated for further questioning, if you don't choose to retract it."

Anderson puffed his pipe and smiled slightly. "It's already been said, son. I could not retract if I wanted to—which I don't. It's all right. Even elders must answer for their actions…and that includes myself."

"And so must he—yet you let him escape punishment for his. Do you realize how hard it was catching him? We got lucky that time because he got lazy and didn't realize I was there, too! Not likely a mistake he'll make again." Ronald huffed, "And now we have to trial two of our legends! So not cool, Father Anderson!"

Lawrence looked at the incensed young man with a fond, understanding smile. "Most assuredly not, Mr. Knox…but the bonds of a good friendship run deeper than protocol. I apologize for making your work harder, but as I said; I owed the man. Debts are a thing I dislike going unpaid, and the Undertaker has his reasons for his actions. Not everything in this world is black and white."

William sighed and stood up. "Slingby, Sutcliff…please escort Mr. Anderson to confinement for further questioning. Mr. Knox…please remain behind."

"Whaa? What'd I do?" Ronald asked, pushing away from the wall and walking over to the desk, "I didn't say or do anything inappropriate!" It was clear he thought he was in trouble. And Grell seemed convinced of it as well.

"You are always saying inappropriate things, Ronnie. You're worse than Eric is!" He giggled, helping Anderson up, "Come on, Pops. Hate to do this, but…you fucked up."

Lawrence went without complaint, and once they were gone and the door was shut, William walked over to the wall and abruptly punched it. A slew of German curses spilled from his mouth, and the wall cracked where his gloved fist had struck it.

"Ho—shit, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry!" Ronald gasped, taking a step back. He'd never seen the older reaper loose it like this. Sure, William was known to smack Grell upside the head with his scythe or clipboard every so often, but never had the man snapped and—cracked the dispatch building.

He watched nervously as a framed paper showing off some sort of achievement William had done teetered on its nail before falling to the floor.

William took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cracked wall. "You did nothing," he assured his nervous companion. He turned his head and looked at Ronald, suddenly mortified by his own behavior. His gaze flicked to the leather couch and his thoughts went to the activities they'd done on it, just the other day.

"No, my anger isn't with you," he assured again, pushing away from the wall to approach the blond reaper. He nudged his glasses back up on his nose and he ran his hand over his hair, smoothing it back into place. "It's all of this. The necessity of hunting down a legend and having to incarcerate yet another reaper I have great respect for. I…sometimes wonder who is really in the wrong. I can't even say why I asked you to remain behind. I suppose…I find your presence…comforting."

Heavens, those words were difficult for him to spit out. William could act with little to no emotions most of the time, but now he felt…exposed. Vulnerable. There was a side to him that he'd never allowed others to see, and it was struggling to break free with each new day, driven by his own inner turmoil.

"I apologize for my behavior," he finally said, lowering his gaze. "It was…uncalled for."

Ronald moved quickly, reaching out and grabbing William's tie and pulling him into a hug, "Sweet Rhea, I thought you were angry at me!" He chuckled, looking up into the startled and unusually emotional reaper's eyes, "But you're just stressed. That's fine! Everyone gets that way and I'm surprised you don't break down more often. But I'll be here for you, Senpai. You can use me to calm down when you need to. I don't mind at all. I'd like to help you…Will…"

William trembled, his arms going around the smaller reaper impulsively. He hadn't had the opportunity to do much at all with Ronald since that day. "I don't know how," he confessed softly. "I don't know how to…share. I simply wanted you near me, and then…well, I apparently chose to blame the wall for my frustration."

"Will…when in doubt just…kiss me." Ronald said, lowering his tone, "Or hold me close…let me be your comfort blanket or teddy bear. Talk out your frustrations to me. I'll listen…and break out the booze if it's bad enough. You can count on me, promise."

The brunet closed his eyes and nodded, struggling to pull himself back together. "I rue the day I ever became supervisor for this department, now. A drink…would be nice."

"I don't know how you do it, honestly…I never could." Ronald took hold of William's hand, "I know it's early yet, but how about we clock out and go get something to drink and take the edge off?"

William glanced at the clock. "I wouldn't ordinarily take an early day to begin drinking, but in this case, I believe I'll make an exception."

A small, rueful smirk adorned his lips as he took Ronald up on his previous offer and bent his head for a kiss. He didn't know how else to thank him for his understanding.

"Come. I would like to get out of this place as soon as possible."

~xox~

-To be continued