Chapter 4:

Grell walked to work without much enthusiasm in the early morning sunshine. So much had changed so quickly, and the foolish argument with Ronald was still weighing heavily on her mind. She hadn't been able to sleep well, and the simple truth was that she was still unsure of where her relationship stood with Michael. He had shown her more affection than anyone ever had. He was the only one who seemed to actually love her, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging fear that it was all too good to be true. Perhaps, deep down, Michael was ashamed of her and would always try to keep her a secret as if she was nothing more than a mistress. Trying to maintain a happy expression to hide these fears took all her energy and focus as she hurried to the elevator.

"Senior Sutcliff!" a familiar voice rang out, "Wait! Hold the elevator!"

Looking up, she saw Ronald hurrying towards her, so she pushed the hold door button. The look of apprehension of his face mirrored her own, but he waited for the doors to shut before speaking. "I'm really sorry," he said, in lieu of a greeting, "I didn't mean to upset you last night. I was just worried."

She could only look at him for a moment in surprise at his heartfelt apology before launching herself towards him and wrapping her arms around the younger reaper. "Oh, Ronnie," she said into his jacket, "I was going to apologize to you. It was my fault really. I was just paranoid, so I took it out on you."

He laughed gently as he returned the hug. "I guess that makes us both sorry," he said softly, "I've really missed you. Dispatch just isn't the same."

"Really?" she asked, "Let me guess. It's a lot quieter."

"And a lot more boring," he added, "but seriously, I've missed you. We should hang out after work on evening. Go to a pub or something."

"Are you sure you can fit that in with all your dates?" she retorted with a laugh.

"That might be a challenge," he replied with a grin, as he turned back towards the closed elevator, "between my busy schedule and your relationship with Michael, it might not be easy, but I'm sure we can manage."

He had meant it as a joke, but Grell was thankful he had turned away so that he didn't seen the pain that she knew was evident on her face. She couldn't help but fear there was no reason to worry about future dates with Michael. If he was embarrassed of her, their relationship was already over. She was now stuck in a new job, no friends, and her hopes of love fading like an evening mist in the harsh rays of the sun.

The doors opened and, to her surprise, William was standing there as if he had been waiting specifically for them.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Spears," Ronald greeted.

"Knox," William said, with a barely perceptible nod before turning to look at her. "I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Sutcliff."

"Sure, I suppose," she managed. Ronald stepped off the elevator as William joined her inside the now claustrophobic cubicle. She had no idea what William might have to say, and she was more than a little prepared for him to launch into some sort of lecture the moment they were alone.

The doors shut and they rode for a few minutes in silence. "Are you adapting well to your new position?" he finally asked, his eyes locked on the featureless doors.

"I haven't really gotten started yet," she admitted, "but I think everything should be fine."

William nodded as he adjusted his glasses. She couldn't help but smile because she knew that this was the telltale sign that he was nervous. While she had never been able to traverse the gulf between them despite how long she had knew him, she still felt she knew more about this man that nearly anyone else.

"I'm afraid I owe you an apology, Sutcliff," William announced, breaking through her thoughts.

"What?"

He turned his attention from the blank steel surface to look down directly into her face. "I'd like to apologize," he reiterated, "for the way I acted towards you the other day. I had thought that you had been planning to leave and had failed to give me proper notice. Knox assured me that you had no more forewarning than I had. I shouldn't have acted so dismissively."

"It's okay," she said, "I guess it did come as a shock."

"I suppose that it did," he agreed, "but you still deserve an apology."

"It's really okay."

"No, it isn't," he insisted, "It is true that we will never see eye to eye on many issues, but I had no right to treat you so coldly. Up until that moment, you were still my subordinate and you deserved respect as such. I am sorry for my behavior, and I hope this promotion does you well." He paused for a moment as if to collect his thoughts before extending his hand towards her in his stiff manner. "Good luck, Grell."

For a moment, she didn't know how to react. Here was a man she had chased for over a century, but now he had his hand actually held towards her to shake. It wasn't the passionate embrace she had dreamed about for all those years, but to hear him apologize and call her by her first name was still more than she had truly expected. "Thank you," she eventually managed as she shook his hand and the elevator doors opened. She held on for one second longer than necessary before stepping off the elevator and down the long hall that led to the office. Only once did she glance back at her former supervisor as the elevator doors slid smoothly shut.

She was leaving William behind.

When she had told Michael that William would always be her first love, she had been completely honest. Her emotions for William were too deep to simply fade into oblivion, but she no longer imagined throwing herself into his arms and professing her love. For better or worse, her heart had grown and moved on, and now it was only a matter if Michael truly returned her affection. Without saying anything to any of the other workers, she walked into her new, nearly barren office, shut the door, and sat down at her desk to wait for her first assignments.

She was barely seated when Michael came sweeping into the room and shut the door behind him with a flourish. A huge smile was plastered across his face as he practically ran towards her and pulled her from the chair into his arms. "My darling Grell!" he exclaimed, "How beautiful you look this morning!" Before she could respond, he captured her lips with his own, and she allowed herself to lose herself in the warmth of his kiss.

"I get use to greetings like that," she purred as soon as they broke the kiss, "but what's the occasion?"

"Who needs an occasion when they has a beautiful woman like you?" he asked in return, kissing her again before stepping back. "So, are you ready to get started?"

"I'm always ready, dear," she replied, "but I fear you're talking about work and not pleasure." She regarded him with a mock pout; still savoring the warmth of his embrace the tingle on her lips from their most recent kiss.

"Maybe I'm talking about a little bit of both," he said, pulling her closer, "After all, I'm coming with you. This is your first day, after all, and I can't let anything happen to our brand new employee." He stroked her cheek gently as his expression softened. "And I never will allow anything happen to you," he added in a tone barely above a whisper.

Her heart soared. She had woke up this morning feeling so terrible and alone, but now everything had managed to correct itself in such a short time. It was almost as if this was all a beautiful dream.

And she never wanted to wake up.

((x))

Creating the far ranging portals took a lot of energy, but Grell had quickly gotten the hang of it, and Michael continually praised her. The only issue was that these portals could only be opened in specific locations, so it was still up to her to locate the target in very unfamiliar areas. While she had previously prided herself on having a rather good sense of direction, she was seriously questioning her abilities after getting lost for the fourth consecutive time. Michael assured her it was only a matter of practice. Once she did find the right person, the job itself wasn't all that unusual. There were no records to examine as everything had already been determined. She did find, however, that these records were far more likely to struggle and attack then any she had ever seen before – although this was of little concern to her. A rookie might have struggled, but her reputation with her scythe was one of the few tales about her that was accurate.

"So what sort of people are these?" Grell asked, nudging the corpse of the man she had only finished reaping with her boot, "I thought everyone's records were to be judged." The man lying before her was a pudgy, plain fellow she had trouble as imagining as anything beyond average.

"I'm not sure," admitted Michael, "All I know is that there's something about these people that doesn't require us to look at their records. Apparently they've done something that will sent them straight to Hell, although I have no idea what. That's why their records look blank even if we try to look at them."

She nodded as she gave the man a final shove. "Still, it's hard to imagine what they could have done that was so awful." She giggled slightly. "I know I wasn't precisely a saint. Still, this is our third one today. Is that common?"

"These cases have piled up somewhat," he replied, "As horrible as it sounds, the more evil people sometimes lives a longer life because no one wants the danger of collecting their records. Not only is there more a struggle and more danger, you have the constant threat of demons."

"Like that one over there?" she asked in a mock innocent tone as she pointed beneath the eaves of a nearby building.

Michael whirled about to where she had indicated, and she saw the evident shock pass over his face. It was a low level demon that had no physical form outside of an indistinct black shadow. Those were only a threat if they managed to possess a stronger form, but it was apparent that this one had no intent on attempting to do so in the presence of two reapers. While they watched, it faded and disappeared from the area.

"I didn't even know it was there," he gasped, "You were able to sense that thing?"

"Of course, darling," she replied confidently, "I've dealt with my fair share of demons after all."

He turned back and wrapped his arm about her shoulders to pull her closer. "I knew you were perfect for this job," he said, "and perfect for me." He kissed her gently as he stroked her hair. "That was the last assignment for today," he announced, "Why don't we get something to eat. I saw a lovely little restaurant back in town."

"But aren't we still on the clock?" she asked, although she already liked this idea.

"You could say it was a meeting with your boss," he suggested, "or just think of it as one of the perks of being part of Upper Management now. Of course…" His voice trailed off as he begin to play with her red stripped tie with his fingers. "We could just skip dinner and move on to more invigorating activities."

She laughed aloud as she leaned tightly against him. "You know I always did love a naughty boy," she whispered.

((x))

It was amazing the way things seemed to fall into place as the days progressed. Although there were lulls in her work, it kept her busy and occupied with the aspects she loved the most, and she really enjoyed the chance to see more of the world than she had ever imagined. If not for her naturally high reaper metabolism, she would have worried about gaining weight as she was taking the time to sample different cultural delicacies. She had managed to see Ronald and a few of her old coworkers after hours, and everyone had been rather nice to her. She had expected there to be laughter and gossip, but it seemed as if there were a few that actually missed having her around. Her relationship with Michael was also growing as they became nearly inseparable. He was always finding some excuse to step into her office, and the time they spent together was perfect. Or at least, almost perfect. He still hadn't told anyone that they were dating. It no longer bothered her as much as it had, but there were moments she still feared he might want to keep her a secret forever. She wanted Michael to be as proud of her as she was of him, which was one reason she worked so diligently lately.

The only sticky point was her lunchtime. While she no longer walked into the cafeteria the picture of defeat, it still nagged her the way the others stayed and pointedly ignored her presence. She had tried to strike up a few conversations, but it quickly became a wasted effort. Whether it was her reputation or the unorthodox way she had been promoted, she knew that she was more of an outcast here then she had ever been in dispatch. Normally, she would have used this opportunity to draw even more attention to herself, but she wanted to be more respectful of Michael.

This had been going on for nearly a month, and she had basically accepted that she was just doomed to eat lunch alone, when someone finally decided to be polite. She was just taking the first few bites of some delicious spaghetti when a rather young looking man walked over to her table. He wasn't handsome by any means with his red-orange hair, freckles, and rather prominent ears, but he was greeting her with a wide, friendly smile. Plus, she always felt a bit of kinship with a fellow redhead, even if his hair wasn't as bright or as beautiful as her own.

"Can I sit here?" he asked with the slightest hint of a lisp.

"Of course, dear," she answered, moving her own tray over, "the more the merrier."

"Thank you," he said, "I don't know anyone here yet. It's my first day, but then I saw you were sitting alone." He blushed as he spoke, and she was amused to see that his large ears turned the reddest.

"Well, you're welcome to sit with me anytime, darling," she explained, "Meals are better when they are shared after all. Where did you transfer from, if I may ask? I don't believe I've seen you before…"

"Samuel," he answered quickly, "And I know you're Grell Sutcliff."

"You know me?"

"Everyone's heard of you," he said, but then his blush only deepened. She wasn't sure if the young reaper was naturally nervous or if he had some sort of crush on her, but it was terribly sweet either way. "As for where I transferred, well, I've been about everywhere now."

She smiled as she leaned forward, "What do you mean?" she asked, "I like a man who's well-traveled, but what do you mean by everywhere?"

"Well, my scores in practical were too low for me to be considered for a field agent," he explained nervously, "so they put me in Spectacles. But, I'm really nervous so I ended up breaking some of the glasses, so then they put me in Scythe Dispensary, but I only managed to cut myself. They've put me in so many places, but I have a talent for organizing and filing apparently. That's how I wound up here, I guess." He laughed in an embarrassed manner.

"There's worse ways to end up in a department," she offered, laughing along with him and feeling herself began to relax. It felt good to talk to someone else for a change and not be treated as if she had some horrible, contagious disease. "So, any juicy gossip from any of those other places you worked?"

Samuel wasn't that much for gossip, but he did have a few amusing stories. It was the most pleasant lunch she had enjoyed in the cafeteria since being transferred, even if she had been talking too much to finish her spaghetti.

((x))

Her office was peaceful and becoming more and more like her own personal space, but she was disappointed when she saw no assignments lying on her desk. Even though these cases had piled up, they seemed to arrive in groups. Some days she was busy while others she had very little to do. Michael had warned her of this since this list was being edited quite frequently, and she had brought some novels to pass the time, but she hated being inactive. Lazily, she stretched as she started to cross the room.

There was a soft knock and she smiled when she saw Michael enter the room. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you, my love," she cooed, once he had shut the door. Quickly, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms about his neck, but Michael didn't smile or return any of her sentiments. "Is something wrong, darling?"

"I've just been in a meeting," he replied, "about you. You're doing an impressive job so far."

"That sounds like good news," she said, as she traced her fingers over his downturned mouth, "Why the frown?"

"What isn't impressive is the spectacle you make of yourself," he continued, "The way you dress draws too much attention."

"But this is how I've always dressed," she countered, "and it does technically follow the dress code. It's never been an issue before."

"Well, there's an issue now," he said, raising his voice slightly. "You don't need to go prancing around here trying to make sure everyone notices you." He handed Grell a piece of paper with neatly typed wording that he had been holding along with a folder that no doubt held the next assignment. "This is your new dress code. I expect you to follow this from now on."

Grell was still annoyed, but she took the paper and scanned it quickly. "I'm not allowed to wear any colors except black and white?" she demanded, "and I have to keep my hair pulled back? This is ridiculous!"

"You should be thankful. They wanted to force you to cut your hair."

She gasped and ran one hand through her scarlet strands protectively. "But I don't understand any of this. Why now? I've always stood out, so why is this all coming up now."

"Maybe it's because you insist on chasing after other men," he said coldly.

"What are you talking about, Michael? I haven't done that."

"Oh really?" he sneered as he leaned closer to her face. The anger was beginning to radiate from him and waves and she could see he was truly furious. "Then why were you hanging all over that boy down at the cafeteria. Gave everyone a good show with you throwing yourself at him like that. Didn't you?"

"Do you mean Samuel? I only talked to him! I didn't throw myself at anyone!" Her own anger was rising at this allegation. "Wait a minute. Did this come from the board or from you? Is this just because you're jealous."

"You give me plenty of reason to be jealous," he growled.

"You won't even tell anyone we're dating!" she yelled without concern of being heard through the walls.

"So, that's why you did it," he said, "I won't give you enough attention, so you go looking for it elsewhere. I was so wrong about you. I heard all the rumors, but I ignored everything, but now I see the truth. You really are nothing but a whore."

Grell's fist made solid connect with the right side of Michael's face, and he stumbled back against the door in obvious pain. "Get out," she said, "No one has the right to talk to me like that."

Michael stood slowly as his cheek was already turning dark red from the impact. "For a lady, you certainly hit like a man," he declared in a sullen tone. He slung the folder at her, perhaps attempting to hit her in the face with it, but she caught it easily. "Here's your next assignment," he said, "You should at least try and do your job right." Rubbing his cheek, he left the office.

She was shaking with anger to the point she wasn't sure if she was going to scream or cry. After all, she had done nothing wrong, but Michael had made such horrible accusations simply because she had talked to another man. Samuel was a sweet kid, but he wasn't even her type. Besides, she had already told Michael that she was faithful too many times.

Still filled with rage, she consulted the folder. The next target was in London, so it might be nice to be back in her old stomping ground.

((x))

It didn't take her any time to find the woman in the folder. The picture showed an attractive blonde with striking blue eyes, but the scene about her small home told so much more. Demons were gathered about in loose groups, and it was far more than Grell had ever seen at one time. She knew protocol demanded that she call for backup, but the anger from her fight with Michael was still racing through her veins.

Dropping her cloak, she revved her chainsaw so that it's beautiful, roaring melody echoed through the night. The demons all turned to look at her, their red eyes shimmering with the very fires of Hell.

Which was precisely where she planned to send all of them.