Author note: It's been a while! Sorry for the break, but IRL stuff was everywhere, and my brain got distracted with about six other series - leading to a good dozen possible fanfics. However, I'm finishing this before I post anything else - I made that mistake with "Blame the Writer" and "Living on a Prayer".
Warning: Sex, violence, masochism, bondage, good lord, it's GRELL, that deserves a warning all it's own!
Pair: Grell Sutcliff and William Spears
Disclaimer: I'm still not Yana Tsoboso. The only thing I can claim here is, unfortunately, that complete dick Evans. I still hate the bastard.

The gag was too tight; Grell could feel it chafing at his mouth. Tears leaked from under his blindfold. Grell shuddered as hands ran across his sides to squeeze at the fake breasts under his black dress. Evans didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, you've been a bad girl, haven't you?" the brunet hissed against Grell's ear. "Teasing me for so long, pretending you don't want it." The redhead ignored him in favour of continuing to struggle futilely against his bonds. "I know you like this; I can tell from your breathing, your heart is pounding."

Evans had come up behind him in the library, slammed his head against the shelving, and proceeded to gag and blindfold the cross-dresser, handcuff his wrists behind his back, and throw him to the floor. Grell hated to admit it, but if it had been Will (who would no doubt have been gentler in subduing him) then he would probably have loved the rough play. Evans had caught him in a secluded corner of the library, and Grell knew that help was unlikely to be coming soon.

Will paced back and forth in his office, checking his watch. Grell had promised to meet him for lunch, but he was twenty minutes late. A century of living together had taught Will to be patient while waiting for his lover, but Grell had simultaneously learnt not to keep Will waiting for too long. Thirteen minutes was their agreed time limit. After that, both of them started getting antsy.

"Right. Enough waiting." Will stormed out, and made his way to Grell's desk. Instead of his redheaded lover, the only person around was Alice Tyler. "Have you seen Miss Sutcliff?" he cut straight to the point. Alice hesitated.

"I'm not sure, sir."

"She's none of your concern." Rebecca's voice cut through the room. "Sorry, Mr Spears, but it's none of your business where Grell goes on her own time. She's her own woman." Will blinked, struck by a single, blinding realisation. Evans.

"And she's in danger." Alice and Rebecca both had the same thought 'yeah, from you'. Will saw it, and snarled, making them flinch. "I know the rumours about me, and they're all nonsense. Listen, Evans is the problem right now. I know he scares you, Miss Tyler. Grell told me everything. I have to help her." Alice licked her lips, then looked at Rebecca, passing on the responsibility to her superior. Rebecca sighed.

"Mr Spears, Mr Evans has been on this taskforce for years, and yeah, he's a flirt and a player, but I've never known him to hurt anyone."

"He tried to-"

"We saw you in the library, beating the shit out of him." Rebecca interrupted. Will finally lost him temper.

"I'm not asking as a co-worker." He growled. "I'm ordering you, as your superior, if you know where she is, tell me or I'll have your fucking slip written out in the next thirty seconds!" Rebecca blanched.

"You fucking bastard." She choked. "Fine. She's in the library." Will nodded and fled, ignoring the women following him.

The day Will found Grell back-flipping off the balcony railing in the London Library was one of the worst days of his life. The sight that greeted him as they rounded the last stack of shelving was by far and away the worst. By this time, his rush had gathered a curious crowd, so that there was an audience for the one thing Will, Grell, and Evans wanted no-one to see.

The brunet was on top of Grell, and as Will and his attendant throng came into sight, he ripped out the front panel of Grell's dress, the noise from the redhead's muffled screams and struggling covering the sound of their approach.

"Fucking hell!" someone said. Evans whipped around, wide eyed and panting, to face the hoard. He collapsed backwards as Grell, finally free of his weight, managed to gain enough leverage to knee him square in the crotch. Will yanked Evans up, then slammed him against a bookshelf, almost crushing his windpipe.

"I warned you, didn't I? Why couldn't you listen to me? No-one. Touches. Grell." He released the brunet, allowing him to crumple into a coughing heap. Will bent and ripped away the blindfold and gag, before undoing the handcuffs. "You alright?" Grell looked up at him with too-bright eyes, and showed sharp teeth in a deranged grin.

"It's all over, isn't it? They all know. He made sure of that." Will looked down at his lover. The torn dress had been one of Grell's custom jobs, with the fake breasts sewn into the outfit for better comfort and security. His chest, toned and masculine, was clearly displayed by the shredded fabric. He immediately shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Grell. The redhead pulled it on, and tilted his head. Will's stomach dropped as he recognised the insane gleam in his lover's expression.

"Don't." he begged.

"Too late." Grell sing-songed, before summoning his Death Scythe as he somersaulted over his lover's shoulder, regardless of the view he was giving the crowd up his dress. The chainsaw shrilled as it swung through the air in a practiced movement. Only pure luck made Evans move in time – he escaped into the frightened group of shinigami with no more than a slashed arm. The blood was enough. Grell's grin widened, and Will threw himself forward before the redhead could do more damage.

"Grell, come on, let's not do this again." The Scythe was raised, and Will was pushed unceremoniously aside as Grell darted into the scattering group with single-minded intent. "Don't make this like 1888!" Will shouted. Grell froze. He had Evans cornered. "We worked hard to move past this, love." Spear slowly climbed to his feet, and tentatively wrapped his arms around Grell, surprised to find him shaking. "Come back to me, Grell. We can go home, and you can look after the plants, and feed the cat, and I'll make dinner, just like always, alright?"

Rebecca and Alice looked awed at the soft, loving tone Will used, which matched the look in his usually frosty eyes. Grell dropped the chainsaw, banishing it to its waiting place, before turning in Will arms to bury his tear-stained face in his black-haired lover's shirt. Will held him close, ignoring the smears of mascara and eyeliner on his white shirt.

"I was so scared."

TBC

I'd like to raise a point here - although Grell identifies as female, I always refer to him as... well... "him". This isn't through any prejudice on my part, it's just that despite being a MtF transsexual, physically Grell is still male - I doubt that the surgery would work permantly on a shinigami, so it's easier to say "he".

Officially, on paper, at work, and to his friends, Grell is a woman. Will just doesn't care - he loves Grell anyway.