Ronald was finally able to fall asleep, practically attached to William the whole night. By the time the sun shed its light over the reaper's camp, Ronald was no longer sleeping next to William, but on top of him. His golden head rested upon the man's chest, and his cheek was smushed upwards, which up-turned his lips and allowed for a small dribble of drool to soak through a spot on William's shirt.

William awoke to the sound of his phone alarm going off, and he made a blind grab for it. He grunted in discomfort at the motion, feeling stiff and sore from spending the night sleeping on the ground. He felt the weight of someone on top of him and he peered blearily down at his chest. Recognizing the yellow-gold head he found there, the events of the evening before came back to him.

They were on the road with the Undertaker, tracking down the creature responsible for the blank records. An air strike happened in the town not far from their camp and then...he'd started acting like a lunatic.

William's face heated with mortification as he recalled the way he'd acted when the voices filled his head. He wouldn't have blamed Ronald if he'd called Dispatch to come retrieve him and have him forcibly committed. Instead, there Ron was, sleeping soundly on top of him. Of the Undertaker there was no sign, and Will wondered if he was out foraging or perhaps relieving himself.

He stroked Ronald's hair, reluctant to get up or wake him, but knowing they had to get moving again.

"Ronald," called Will, gently shaking him.

With a moan, the blond shifted, turning his head before smacking his lips and settling back down. But William was used to Ronald's sleeping habits by now and when the man didn't let up, Ronald finally lifted his head, his sleepy eyes blinking in confusion, "...Will..?"

"Good morning," whispered William in greeting. He stroked Ronald's hair again to tame the cowlick somewhat. "I feel I must apologize for my behavior last night. I was...not myself."

"...Yeah, but you were asleep..." The blond yawned, remembering what the man had said after he'd curled up to comfort him. "Plus I think you had a nightmare..."

William was sure he'd had a nightmare...several of them in fact, but he could not recall the details of any of them, and he had no memory of speaking in his sleep. He rubbed his partner's back, guessing that Ronald must have tried to comfort him in the night.

"I meant my behavior before I fell asleep. Clutching my head and raving like that. I must have seemed mad to you."

Ronald frowned and sat up, straddling William's legs, "Actually...I can't say I did think you mad, last night. I..." he sighed. He wanted to keep their relationship truthful and open. No secrets, no more unwarranted jealousy. "I was a bit distracted last night, myself." he admitted, "Call me an idiot, but... I had thought that you were...falling in love with Undertaker, to be honest..."

William frowned in return, and he looked around again for his old mentor. He finally noticed a pair of familiar boots sticking out the open window of the back seat and the question of where he'd gone was answered.

Ronald's admission disturbed William, reminding him of that moment of confusion he'd felt when they came upon the Undertaker stark naked. It certainly didn't mean he was falling in love with the man, but it made Will see him in a different light. He could easily imagine someone else wanting to trace those scars and kiss every pale inch of that lean body, but for himself, such a desire was just plain wrong.

"I can imagine why you would come to that conclusion," William said thoughtfully. "I have extolled his past virtues and I've made it no secret that I would like for him to come with us and seek help when this is finished. This is because of what he once was to me though, Ronald. I care for him just as you care for Sutcliff, and I wish a better fate for him than eternal madness...but I am not in love with him."

"He...caught me crying over it last night." Ron continued his admission, "And he said that you saw him more of a fatherly figure than anything, and then he said he'd sleep in the car. He shouldn't have had to, but I didn't refuse his idea, either..." He sighed and lay back down on Will, slipping his arms around him, "I'm sorry to you both for getting so jealous."

William embraced him in return, taking a moment to absorb everything he'd just been told. Knox had cried over him? Undertaker coherently explained the situation? It seemed surreal to William, and it occurred to him that was due in part to both things being unfamiliar to him.

Nobody had ever cried for him before, save for his mother. Undertaker hadn't been lucid for more than short bursts since the day he came back from the last war he was in.

"I have no idea what to say," he admitted softly. A ghost of a smile flitted over his lips with the warm feeling in his breast. "Nobody has ever been jealous over me before...at least not anyone who genuinely cared for me."

Sutcliff's petty jealousy didn't count in Will's eyes.

"You aren't upset that I was so stupid?" Ron asked, giving him a squeeze. He was relieved that that was the case. He'd witnessed before how jealousy could ruin relationships.

Will shook his head. "No, I'm not upset. A bit surprised to hear it, but not upset."

He cupped Ron's chin to urge him to lift his head and he gave him a kiss. "I don't find your actions stupid, either. We are in a highly stressful and unusual situation, far from home and working with a man I once idolized. I think I understand why you got that impression."

Ronald gave him a small smile, and he pressed a kiss to his lips, "Let's promise to communicate better." he suggested, "So we don't have any more problems like last night."

"I'm willing to try," conceded William. He sighed and looked at his watch. "I am afraid we need to pack up and get going soon, though. We cannot afford to let the trail run cold on us."

At least Will's head was quiet again, for now. He wondered how long the reprieve would last. Were they random, or was their presence dependant upon the number of deaths nearby? He eased Ronald off of him with quiet reluctance and he began to gather up the bedding to store it in the supply bag.

"Wake the Undertaker, please." he requested. "I will prepare a light breakfast for us, if the two of you will finish putting the rest of this away."

"Okay..." Ronald rolled himself up onto his feet and stretched before pulling on the rest of his uniform and shuffling to the car. "Hey, it's morning," Ron said, reaching in the window and poking Undertaker's cheek, "Get up or you'll miss the breakfast Will's making and you'll get stuck with potatoes."

The mortician came awake with a snort and he sat up abruptly, his hat rolling off his head. "Eh? Breakfast?"

He flailed for the door handle and he spilled out of the vehicle and onto the ground like a black and silver rag doll. Shaking his head to clear it, he rolled over and got on his knees. He pushed aside the tangled silver fringe obscuring his vision and he peered around with narrowed, glittering eyes. "Oh." He yawned and got to his feet, recalling where they were. "Right. Thought I was in my coffin at home."

He sighed, and he tied his long hair into a knot as a makeshift ponytail, and then he grabbed his hat out of the car and stuffed it on his head. He couldn't see clearly enough from this distance to be sure, but he could have sworn William gave him a disgusted look and a disappointed shake of his head. The Undertaker grimaced. He was a far cry from the professional veteran William trained under, and he couldn't rightly blame him for his disappointment. He followed Ronald over to the extinguished fire that William was trying to stir back to life with some of the wood they'd gathered the night before.

"What are we having for breakfast?"

William glanced up from his poking, his eyes briefly roving over him before shifting back to his task. "Oatmeal, I am afraid. It keeps well and is quick to prepare. Perhaps the next time we get the opportunity to stop and re-supply, we can obtain more food that travels well."

"Like that canned meat they sell?" Undertaker didn't seem too thrilled. "The sort that looks like opaque jelly?"

Will shrugged and he almost smirked, detecting his old mentor resurfacing just a bit. The man had always loved a good meal, but he was picky when it came to anything overly processed. "Something like that, yes. Canned meat, canned fish, evaporated milk...the sort of things that will not spoil while we travel. We cannot always eat like we did last evening, sir."

Undertaker sighed, and he walked over to help Ronald fold the tarp. "Are you even sure it's meat?"

"The ingredients are listed on the cans," reminded William. "Perhaps they don't use the most desirable parts of the animals, but why should that make one such as you squeamish? You deal with more unpleasant things than that on a daily basis."

"But I don't bloody eat it, do I?" Grumbled the Undertaker. "Can you imagine me stuffing my face with the entrails and the eyeballs of my clients?"

William paused and raised a brow at him. "Dare I answer that? Please, let's not discuss such things right before breakfast."

"Nah, that sounds more like a Grell thing. You know, all that blood." Ron snickered, shaking out the tarp to get any leaves off it before folding it, "Plus with them teeth he has... I can't ever see him sitting down to a salad."

"Grell," repeated the Undertaker softly. "That name rings a bell."

"It should, considering you once fought him and agent Knox aboard a doomed cruise ship," reminded William, "and you recently hospitalized Sutcliff and his assigned partner Jeffries in another altercation when they crossed paths with you."

The mortician finished folding his corners and he released one of them to snap his fingers. "Oh, yes! Miss Sutcliff! Sassy li'l bird. She didn't give me much choice."

William glanced at him in the process of pouring the oats into the cooking pot. "I think you are confused, sir. Sutcliff is male. A very flamboyant male that likes to refer to himself as a lady, but- "

"She is?" The Undertaker frowned, and he absently brought his corners of the tarp over to Ronald to help finish folding it. "Looks like a lady t' me. Sounds like a lady too, the way she shrieked when I countered her attacks. Usually I try to be a bit nicer to the females, but I wasn't left with much choice."

The mortician paused and he tilted his head. "You sure about this, chap? Ever checked her knickers?"

William groaned. "Oh dear heavens..."

He started to ask the Undertaker just how bad his eyesight was, but he refrained. He supposed he could see how a reaper without the benefit of corrective eyewear could mistake Grell for a woman—particularly when the redhead declared himself a lady all the time. Sutcliff really did seem to identify that way these days as well.

"What does it matter?" he sighed. "Grell is Grell, and that has hardly changed since we graduated the academy together. Call Sutcliff whatever you choose."

Undertaker shrugged, and he squatted to gather up the rolled sleeping bags. "Seems more like it's what she chooses, unless you're the one confused about it. I'd think you were pulling my leg if I didn't know you were born without a sense of humor, Willy."

"You just heard Ronald referring to Grell as a male," Will pointed out. He began to add liquid to the oats and he hung the pot over the fire to begin warming it. "He trained under her...him. I assure you, we did not have heads together this morning to prank you."

Undertaker looked at Ronald, still bearing a confused expression on his pallid features. He finally shrugged and carried the bags to the car to be stored. He couldn't imagine why William would lie about such a thing, but he'd been so sure...

"Trust me," Ron nodded, "He got into my pants once. He was all male that night. Or maybe part wolf with how he bites..." the blond shrugged, "If you're so interested, why not ask him next time?"

Undertaker paused again in the act of tossing the supplies into the trunk, and his gaze flicked to William. He thought he saw a flash of annoyance on his face, but again, he was too far away to tell for certain. "Hmm."

He said nothing else, though. He could have suggested to agent Knox that he shouldn't be blurting out past encounters with his own mentor after having a jealous fit over the thought of Will doing the same, but perhaps that was part of the reason why Ronald jumped to that conclusion. William seemed to already know about him and Sutcliff, because Undertaker could imagine his outrage if this was the first time he'd heard of it. Maybe Ronald entertained fears that his lover would try something with the Undertaker simply out of spite.

The mortician shrugged. It was none of his business. It appeared to have been cleared all up and that was one less complication. He paused and cocked his head when he heard the whispers starting up, and he looked to the direction of the next town. Yes, they were on the right track. For the moment, he forgot all about Miss Sutcliff and his confusion concerning the crimson reaper.

Ronald finished folding the tarps and gathered them to take back to the car. "I think we have everything but the eating supplies, but if you could take one last look around while I shove these in the trunk, that'd be great," he said to Undertaker as he turned towards the car. "I'm sure Will'll have breakfast ready for us by then."

With a shrug of compliance, Undertaker had a look around as asked. He was feeling a bit detached now because the world of the living and the world of the dead were starting to overlap for him again. He'd grown rather used to it over time and he knew well enough which things he saw were tracers from the beyond the veil and which were actually physically there. As he checked around, he wondered if William had begun to see things as well or if it was only the voices, thus far.

"Breakfast is ready," called William after a few moments. He frowned at the Undertaker, noticing that he looked a bit entranced and was about to wander outside the concealment zone that kept their encampment hidden from mortals. "Undertaker, where are you going?"

The mortician gave a start and turned a bit, his mouth slack for a moment before he snapped out of it. "Oh...er...I was just plotting out our next route. Coming!"

William clenched his jaw as the ancient jogged back to the fireside, his makeshift ponytail swinging behind him with his long gate. "Ronald, come and eat. I've a feeling we have a long day ahead of us."

"Just-as soon as-There!" Ronald said, finally stuffing everything into the trunk that he could fit. The cooking supplies would have to sit in the back seat with whomever was back there at any one time. Closing the trunk, he jogged back over, flashing a grin at William as he was handed a bowl. "Thanks."

They ate a rather bland meal compared to the dish William had cooked for them the night before, and then they put out the fire and took down the wards around the camp. Once that was finished they piled into the car and the Undertaker insisted on taking the first driving shift. Knowing that Ronald would probably prefer to stretch out in the back seat a bit, Will offered it to him and he kept a close eye on the Undertaker's driving as they pulled out onto the road and set off. He watched his former mentor thoughtfully, noting how focused he suddenly seemed. It was like he knew exactly where he needed to go.

He didn't like the direction they were heading, as it seemed to be leading right to the settlement that got bombed the night before. So far, William had not heard any voices in his head, but he kept himself braced for it. He glanced over his shoulder at Ronald and he reminded himself that he did have an anchor, if the mental noise started back up again.

Ronald reclined in his seat, his ankle crossing over his knee and his foot bouncing in the air. He felt anxious now that they were back in the car heading towards the bomb sight. It couldn't be good for William, after all, and he wished they were headed away, back someplace safe, someplace where Will could be helped rather than tempted further into darkness. But he couldn't do anything about that. He could only hope that they caught this thing quickly and dispatch it.

"Do stop fussing, Mr. Knox," admonished William when he noticed his partner's nervous fidgeting. He softened the hard, professional tone with a subtle wink meant just for Ronald—a silent little reminder that his "professional voice" did not echo their personal relationship. "You wouldn't want to un-nerve me with your fidgeting, I imagine."

It was Will's subtle, unpracticed attempt at making light of his own recent issues. Humor was still a thing he hadn't grasped and he dearly hoped that his young lover would pick up on the hint.

"Sorry." Ronald flushed and grabbed his foot with both hands to try and stop its bouncing. He was too nervous to simply cease the motion, and he knew it. So he tried to cover it up in other ways, "I'm a bit...excited. If we do find this guy and take him out, then things can get back to normal already."

At first, William was quietly amused by Ronald's candor. The youthful reaper did have a way of speaking honestly—whether for good or for ill. However, the use of the word "normal" reminded him that he may not be able to return to his accustomed state of normalcy, once this was all said and done.

"Yes...normal," he murmured, his voice partially drowned out by the sound of the car's motor. Human manufactured vehicles were quite behind in terms of efficiency and design, after all. William briefly lowered his gaze, but then he raised it again and he lifted his custom-shaded glasses to look into Ronald's eyes. The younger reaper's face became a blob to him in the process, but his eyes were the only focal point that mattered.

"I shan't forget our date, Ronald Knox."

Ron moved both feet on the floor, then and he leaned forward to slide his arms around Will's shoulders, the seat between them. "I have faith in you, Will," he whispered into his ear. He couldn't help but realize why William had said what he had. Will was also worried that he'd fall into the darkness and not be able to come back out. So, he was going to try his damnedest to be the light to guide William back out.

"We'll have our date-and many more after that."

William nodded and sighed, resting his head back against the seat. He spared a sidelong glance at the Undertaker to be sure the unstable man was still keeping a good heading, and he frowned slightly at the single-minded stare he noticed in the elder reaper's eyes. The Undertaker seemed to have acquired a good enough understanding of how motorcars were operated to drive on his own.

That wasn't a complete shock to William. Mad or not, his old mentor was brilliant. What troubled him was the intensity of the Undertaker's gaze as he drove along. Again, he was plagued by the suspicion that the man knew exactly where they needed to go, and he made a mental note to question him again on his tracking methods of their target.

They arrived in the war-torn settlement of Jembke after a while, and the Undertaker parked their stolen vehicle on the outskirts of the damaged town. Smoke still rose from the ruined buildings as the three reapers cloaked themselves and walked through the place—each of them sensing the death all around them but none quite so keenly as the Undertaker himself. Will and Ron were no longer on a collection assignment and thus, there was no reason to check the death lists except to ascertain which souls had been wiped blank by their quarry.

They located the first mark already being reaped by a German contact and William questioned him when he heard the reaper cursing. The records were blank, like all of the others he and Ronald had come across.

"Did you see or sense anyone else near this mark, sir?" queried the supervisor in German upon entering the building.

The German reaper turned to look at him, his gaze flicking to the badge that William displayed to him. He shook his head and sighed. "Nein."

William echoed his sigh and he glanced at his companions before speaking again. "We represent the London division and we are here on an investigation regarding the growing number of blank records—such as the ones you just attempted to harvest. If you would be so kind as to contact us should you see or hear anything unusual in these parts, it would be most appreciated."

The agent called the Berlin division to confirm Will's claim after asking for their true names, and then he exchanged contact numbers with Ronald and William. "If you can solve this, my division would be very grateful," said the Berlin agent in closing. "We've lost too many collections to this oddity."

His gaze flicked to the Undertaker curiously. Of the three of them, the silver-haired man dressed in the SS officer uniform had offered no information of himself. Seeing the long scar on his face, the German officer began to get an expression of dawning recognition on his face.

"I wouldn't mention me if I were you," cautioned the Undertaker with a white-toothed smile, speaking in German. "It's not pertinent to your reports and frankly, not in your best interests."

The man swallowed, his gaze flicking back to Will and Ron. "What you Englishman do is your business. However…may I have an autograph, sir?"

Undertaker blinked at him, his ivory features twisting into a surprised expression. "Beg pardon?"

"An autograph, Legendary Death," revised the Berlin agent. He smiled almost bashfully. "I recognize you. There have been rumors, but I did not believe them. You are known to all of us, sir. One of the first—"

"Oh balls," muttered the ancient. "Give me a pen and something to write on, and keep your mouth shut."

He'd said it in English and when the Berlin agent looked confused, William quickly translated in a more polite way than it was worded. "Death would be happy to sign something for you if you provide something to write with and on. His one request is that you will keep his involvement in this situation to yourself until told otherwise."

The German nodded his blond head in agreement, still staring at the Undertaker with a starstruck look on his face. "Of course! Thank you very much!"

He produced a pad of paper from his uniform pocket and he offered a pen. Undertaker scribbled his name in both German and English onto it with a sigh, and he handed it back. "Auf Wiedersehen."

The German bowed a couple of times, smiling as he tucked the pad of paper back where it came from. "Danke! Danke."

Undertaker nodded as the man bowed his way out of the ruined building, and once the group portaled back to the reaper realm, he shook his head. "Funny, that. When Shinigami recognize me I'm either worshiped or attacked."

Ronald didn't understand any of the exchange in German, but he stared in confused shock at Undertaker long after the German officer had departed. "Did...did he just—did you just—what in the great River Styx was that?!" he asked, hardly believing that not only had the old geezer been asked for an autograph, but had complied and given it.

"It seems his reputation has spread further than we realized," explained William with a slight smirk. "It leads me to wonder just how much of your history that man knew, Undertaker. Was he asking for your autograph out of reverence for your work with Dispatch, or was it due to admiration of your other work?"

The mortician shrugged uncomfortably, but he grinned. "Who knows? Doesn't much matter to me either way. We're very close to our quarry, but frankly, I'm starving. We can't be at our best on an empty stomach, yeah?"

William sighed, feeling his own stomach rumble in sympathy. "Very well. We shall teleport to our realm and find a place to eat there before continuing on. I trust you have no objections to dining on the reaper side, Undertaker?"

The mortician looked around with a grimace. "We aren't likely to find many options here, so why not?"

"It's either that or potatoes and left over breakfast." Ronald pointed out, jabbing his thumb back in the direction of the car. "Plus... gets us out of this place for an hour or so..." He glanced at William, hinting that he wanted to get Will someplace nicer, even if just for a short bit of time.

William summoned his scythe and created a portal to the other realm. "Yes, I would prefer a hot, balanced meal and some peace and quiet myself."

"In more ways than one," muttered the Undertaker. He suspected that like himself, Will would get a reprieve from the voices of the dead on the other side. They seemed to be unable to communicate through the veil in the reaper dimension.

Ronald wanted to usher Will through first, but Will was holding open the portal for them, so he stepped through first, followed by Undertaker and then William. The blond reached out, taking his lover's hand when he appeared, giving it a squeeze before he looked around at the options they had for eateries.

"Oh, fancy that," William remarked, silently relieved that the whispers he'd begun to hear immediately went silent upon entering this realm. "It appears there is an Italian bistro there, across the street. I imagine you'd enjoy that, Ronald. Undertaker, have you any objection?"

"Not at all." Undertaker patted his belly. "Italian food fills the tummy up just fine. Have at it, gents."

"Yes! Lets go!" Ron grinned. "Something nice and filling and slathered in sauce!"

He waited for traffic to let up before crossing the road with his companions and leading the way to the promise of good food, already making plans to eat enough to make up for weeks upon weeks of potato-based dishes.

Excited, he wasted no time in walking up to the host and requesting a table for three in Italian, only to soon realize that the man didn't speak a syllable of the language. "Uh...help?" Ron looked at William, who he could tell was trying to hold in an amused smile.

"A table for three, if you please," William requested in German. "Tell me, is this authentic Italian food you serve?" He wondered if there was anyone working there with so much of a drop of Italian blood in them.

"Oh yes," assured the host. "Our chef is directly from Rome, sir. I think you'll find our cuisine most satisfying."

Will nodded. Of course it would make sense for them to have a German speaking host and possibly wait staff in a German township. If there was one thing he couldn't stand though, it was generic dining establishments claiming to serve authentic food of a certain culture when the person or people making it hadn't even so much as set foot in the country of origin their menu boasted.

"Very good. I'll have a glass of water to start with, and an order of bread sticks."

"Make mine a glass of Chianti," decided the Undertaker after looking over the wine menu.

Will looked at Ronald and switched to English. "What would you like to drink?"

"Would a glass of wine be inappropriate?" Ronald grinned, teasingly.

"One glass can do no harm," agreed William. "In fact, I believe I'll have one with my water, as well."

"I'll inform your waiter immediately," promised the host once the drink order was placed. "He will be with you shortly, gentlemen."

Will nodded and he sighed, checking his watch. "Well, I estimate we can spare an hour for dinner and relaxation before returning to get back on the trail. I advise that we avoid over-imbibing, gentlemen. Should we catch up to the fugitive, we don't need to be drunk when we deal with him."

Ronald smirked. "Well, I can't speak for your tolerance, but one glass won't even begin to affect my judgment." He opened his menu and began to look over the selection, grateful that there were Italian translations under the German.

"Ahh... can I just order everything?" he asked, feeling like he would start to drool.

"Not if you don't want us to have to roll you out of here like a cheese wheel," muttered the Undertaker. "Get too stuffed and you won't be much good to us. Ah, but the selection does look yummy. I can't decide between the gnocchi or the chicken cacciatore. Might start with the bruschetta and give it a bit more thought."

"Bruschetta sounds good," agreed William. The waiter came with their drinks and breadsticks and Will thanked him. "My companion there is still deciding, but we'll have an order of bruschetta to start. I think I shall have the Manicotti Florentine as my entree. Ronald, have you decided on yours or would you like more time like...our companion?"

"I wouldn't mind being a cheese wheel..." Ronald muttered, never looking up from the menu. "Ooo! No. I know what I want!" Ronald pointed at a 'sampler' dish option that came with a little of multiple dishes. "I can have everything." he grinned.

"Hmm, not a bad choice," said the Undertaker thoughtfully. He nodded. "I think I'll take a page from your book and try that, myself." He put his menu down and sipped his wine.

William considered the way the Undertaker had been acting while they were in the car, and he glanced around to be sure nobody was in hearing distance. "Sir, there is something I've been meaning to ask you. You said that we wouldn't understand your methods of tracking this creature, but I'm beginning to suspect I might."

"Oh?" The mortician regarded him with a vague smile. "Let's hear it then, Willy."

Will took a slow breath, bracing himself. If he was wrong then so be it, but if he was right...

"It's the dead, isn't it? The voices. They've been guiding you to him."

Undertaker's lips pulled into a wide, white smile. "Very good, chap. You always were my brightest apprentice. Took a bit longer for you t' figure it out than I expected, but you aren't wrong."

Will let out the breath he'd been holding. "Then does this mean I may soon be able to track him myself, as well?" He avoided looking at Ronald, hating himself for bringing up the subject in front of him but feeling he deserved to know exactly what was going on.

The Undertaker considered the question, his glittering eyes steady on William. Finally, he shrugged. "That's a good question, m'dear. I wish I could answer it for you, but it really depends on how willing you are t' listen to those voices. Problem is if you let go and do that, you might sink deeper into it and end up like me. It's probably best you leave the tracking of that sort to me and spare yourself the madness...or at least delay it for a while."

"You can't!" Ronald nearly stood up as he snapped his gaze to William, "You can't give up and give in to this thing! If you fall mad like Undertaker, anyway, then that's fine, but you have to promise you won't give in and just let it happen!" he pleaded, grabbing Will's hand, heart pounding in his chest. He hated the idea of William giving up.

A bit taken aback by Ronald's vehement protest, Will shushed him and he gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "The thought never crossed my mind. I was merely asking whether something good could come of my...issues. If I can actually make use of it at all, that would be some small compensation. If utilizing it to help track this creature comes with such a price, however...I believe I'll decline."

"I think that's a wise decision," agreed the Undertaker. "Don't you fret too much, Ronnie. Will's not known for making foolish choices most of the time. If he starts slipping though, you might have to rely more on your own judgment."

Will grimaced. "I'm not wildly in love with that idea, but thus far Ronald has shown greater common sense and responsibility than in the past."

"Hey, I always step up to the plate when it's needed!" Ron insisted, then he sighed, sliding closer to William on the bench, "Sorry, I just worry about ya... I hate thinking of anything bad happening to you."

"I know that you do," murmured William, "and your concern is appreciated. Just try not to worry too much until there is reasonable cause...such as certain instances that have occurred since we came here. Unless I'm actually slipping in a dangerous way, don't be distracted by your concern for me."

He squeezed his hand and he leaned in to whisper into Ron's ear. "I would not wish to see anything bad happen to you, either."

"My goodness," remarked the Undertaker, blinking. "I don't think I've ever seen you so affectionate with anyone, Willy. This war has certainly changed you."

William flushed and cleared his throat, releasing his partner's hand to reach for his wine. "Yes, well...war changes everyone to some degree and Mister Knox and I have been through quite a lot together."

The waiter came back with their appetizers and Will took the liberty of ordering for his companions, before handing the menu back. He busied himself with a bread stick and a helping of the Bruschetta, hoping the Undertaker wouldn't keep going on about his observation.

After they ordered their entrees, Ronald placed his hand on Will's knee under the table. "You know, there is nothing wrong with showing that you care for me in public," he encouraged. "It may be good for you to let go a little in that way. Plus it helps keep away anyone who may try picking either of us up." He winked, sipping his wine.

William raised a brow. "Oh? Well then...open up." He picked up a square of the brushetta and offered it to Ronald in one of the most romantic—yet appropriate—gestures of public affection he could think of.

Pleased with the treatment, Ronald complied, allowing his lover to feed him after he set his wine glass back down.

Undertaker grinned with delight as he watched the young lovers interact. He kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to spook Will out of the intimate moment. The mortician was a romantic at heart, though he himself couldn't even remember what it was like to have feelings like that for another. He also looked on his old apprentice in a paternal way and he truly didn't want to see William suffer the same fate as him. Having someone like Ronald at his side might prove to be his saving grace.

Will smiled subtly as Ronald chewed, and he reached for his napkin to dab the younger reaper's lips when a bit of tomato fell onto his chin. "Sloppy," he accused softly. "But your eating habits have improved of late."

"Whots wrong wif my eating habits?" Ron asked, his mouth full. He smirked, cheeks holding the chewed morsel of food as he made a "duck face" and puckered his lips while William wiped his mouth off. He then swallowed and gave a proper grin, "Sorry, couldn't resist messin' with ya, Sexy."

William flushed slightly. "You have a habit of that. I've grown somewhat used to it. How is the bruschetta?"

"It's good enough to make me regret talking with my mouth full, I can tell ya that! Reminds me of my mom's cooking. Mmm! So good!" The blond admitted, reaching to help himself to more.

William huffed a soft, subtle chuckle as he watched his partner dig into the appetizer. He took a bite himself and he nodded in approval at the flavor, and then he dipped one of the breadsticks into the marinara sauce. At least the host's bragging wasn't just an empty promise about the food quality. Will noticed the way his old mentor was watching him and Ronald and he felt suddenly self conscious.

"Aren't you going to have any, sir?"

Undertaker seemed to shake himself out of a daze. "Ah, right. I was just letting the two of you test it for me. Seems to meet your approval so I'll start digging in too."

Ronald also glanced at the man third-wheeling their suddenly date-like Lunch. "Were you hearing them voices again?" he asked, "I thought you couldn't hear them over here but you looked kinda zoned out."

The mortician smirked and he picked up a square of the bruschetta. "I'm always 'zoned out' at some point or another, Mr. Knox. I don't need to be hearing voices for that to happen. My mind gets distracted easily." He lifted the appetizer to his lips and he took a bite out of it, making little sounds of pleasure in his throat.

William tried not to let the man's admission trouble him overly. Clearly all those years in solitude with no company save the dead had worn the Undertaker's mind down to this point, and the Dispatch supervisor wondered if the Undertaker really was past the point of help. He still wasn't ready to give it up as a lost cause, though. Perhaps he could never return to being the reaper he once was, but he was still brilliant and formidable. There was still a chance for him. Choosing not to comment on it, he had another sip of wine.

Their meal came out a short while later and they enjoyed it with gusto, knowing it would be a while before they had another opportunity for a nice meal. Will almost considered picking up more supplies from a grocer after they left the bistro, but he thought it might be best to wait on that.

It was a good thing he did. When they arrived back on the mortal side and went to get back in the car, they found it missing—along with all of their belongings.

-To be continued