Golden beams of sunlight slipped through the window and coaxed William's eyes to open. He winced and stretched slightly, but soon realized there was a warm body against him. In shock, he looked down at the mass of red hair spilling across the bed and Grell's sleeping face. Normally, he would have been upset because he didn't like when anyone got too close, especially without his permission, but she looked so peaceful. Her makeup had been scrubbed away, and there was just the slightest dusting of freckles across her nose. He resisted the urge to kiss those freckles as he pushed aside a few strands of hair just to watch her sleep. She hadn't bothered putting on nightclothes, but somehow the loose shirt and pants she was wearing gave her the look of innocence.
He wasn't sure how long he had been watching, when her own eyelids began to open and she yawned. "Good morning," he said.
She jumped slightly in alarm. "Will!" she gasped. Looking down she saw that she was lying in his bed. "I thought I'd wake up before you," she admitted, "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he said softly. He felt warmer, softer lying by her side somehow, which prompted him to do something he had only thought of before. Leaning forward, he gently kissed the freckles that dotted her nose. She made a soft noise in surprise before smiling up at him.
"Will?" she asked as she looked into his eyes.
He returned the smile before leaning forward to kiss her mouth tenderly. Her lips felt so soft and warm beneath his own that he never wanted to move away. His heart began to speed up as her hands came up to his chest. Her fingers were soft and her touch as soft as the fluttering of a bird's wing, but he took hold of one to push it tighter against his chest; against his heart.
Time ceased to exist as only the existed in that moment. William stopped kissing her for a moment to lean back to just to look into face. Her cheeks were flushed slightly and her eyes were sparkling brilliantly. He had never seen anyone look so beautiful. Their situation was far from ideal, but he had been feeling lost and almost helpless for too long. He needed this connection with someone he knew he had loved for a very long time even if he had never admitted those words aloud. In fact, it was time to tell the truth.
Stroking her face, he never broke eye contact. "I love you," he whispered, and her eyes widened in surprise. "I always have." Rolling over so that his body was slightly covering hers, he kissed her mouth before moving to her long, graceful neck. It had been his own fantasy to kiss her beautiful neck, and he was not disappointed. She smelt slightly of lilac perfume and clean soap, and she was very receptive to his kisses. Her breathing had increased almost imperceptibly as she brought her arms around his back; scratching him slightly with her nails. He moved back just enough to undo the buttons on her shirt and rub his hands across her own chest. She was slender, but he could feel her muscles beneath the skin. At first glance, she seemed so fragile, but he witnessed the strength she possessed of body and spirit. Leaning forward, he resumed the kiss as he moved against her legs; his growing arousal evident. He needed her.
Without warning, she suddenly planted both of her palms against his chest and pushed him away. "I haven't even put on any breakfast," she said, "You'll need to eat before you go to work." She scooted across bed, away from him, and disappeared out of the bedroom door so quickly, he could have thought what had occurred between them was nothing more than a vivid dream.
He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Perhaps this had been nothing more than a dream on his part. He had grown closer to Grell, but maybe she hadn't been as honest as he he had assumed. Maybe this was nothing more than a game with her. He shook his head; wanting to deny the possibility, as he stood up and started to get dressed. The more he thought about it, however, the angrier he became. Perhaps Grell had been using him for her own amusement. By the time he dressed and walked into the kitchen, he was seething.
"I haven't had time to cook anything," Grell said when he walked into the room. Other than looking slightly flushed and embarrassed, she seemed fairly normal, and this only made William more enraged.
"Don't bother," he replied, as he grabbed an apple out of a nearby bowl. It was the last they had, and normally he would have asked if she wanted it, but he no longer felt like being considerate. "I wouldn't want you to put you out."
She gasped slightly, but he turned away and took an almost savage bite of the apple. He didn't want to hear her explanations or give her a chance to spin some sort of tale. Most of all, he didn't want to see the tears he had glimpsed forming in her eyes.
((x))
They walked in unison; their steps in perfect rhythm so it sounded like one creature with many feet approaching instead of a group. Anderson kept his head down and continued his delicate work, but he could hear the gasps and whispers between the footsteps. Work around him ceased as the steps grew louder and closer until pausing just in front of his desk.
"Lawrence Anderson," Collins announced in a triumphant tone, "Stand up. You have been accused of a most grievous crime and are to be placed under arrest during our investigation."
With deliberate slowness, Anderson looked up from his work to gaze up at the face looming over him. There was no question about even attempting to run considering the number of men Collins had with him, and Anderson didn't really think that was an option anyhow. He had to play his part for now for the sake of all their futures. He set aside the glasses and stood up, as he had been commanded. Two of the men, who looked like carbon copies of one another with the their same dark hair that was cut close to their scalps, stepped forward to place handcuffs on his wrists. These weren't powerful handcuffs, but these chains would be more obvious at a distance. It seemed that Collins wanted to make sure others knew of this arrest.
As a group, they turned and starting marching towards the prison, but Collins didn't take the most direct route. He led him out the door and into the main hall of Dispatch. There were stares and whispers, and Anderson knew that Collins was using this as an example of what happened to those who stood against his will. People peeked out of offices to watch them, and he hoped that word would soon get back to Miss Fletcher. Her corporation was crucial now.
Onward they marched into the city and towards the accursed prison. Anderson had been here before but never as a prisoner, and these circumstances were less than ideal. He had no idea what awaited him inside the bars as they continued inside. They walked down several hallways before pausing before a cell that looked little bigger than a closet. The door was opened, and Anderson walked inside without being instructed to do so. One of the guards waved his hand to reengage the shield before turning to leave. His comrades went with him, so that only Anderson and Collins remained.
"Aren't you concerned with which crime you have been accused?" Collins finally asked.
"I'm not sure it makes a difference," Anderson replied.
Collins laughed mockingly. "It would if you were innocent, although we both are well aware of your guilt. You have been accused of aiding wanted criminals and helping them to avoid capture. Do you deny this?"
"I don't see how I could have done such a thing as I haven't left our realm," he said, "Furthermore, I did send a recovery agent after the wanted reaper, which is precisely what I was instructed to do."
"You knew very well Sutcliff would never turn in Spears," stated Collins.
"I knew no such thing for certain," he said, "Sutcliff was the best available agent, and has shown herself to be increasingly reliable."
"I doubt that very much," Collins sneered, "but that is of little issue now. I'm assembling an army that will find them and bring the two to justice. All those who defy me, must be dwelt with swiftly so I can take my rightful place."
Anderson made firm eye contact with the man. "Because of the prophesy?" he asked.
Surprise flitted across Collins's features. "Yes," he admitted, "Although I'm surprised you know of it. Of course, you are one of the oldest in our realm. Honestly, it's a bit disturbing you have yet to be redeemed." He paused as he took a step back. "The prophesy says that a reaper will rise up to become New Death; a ruler that will lead all reapers into the future and bring forth new life. That reaper is me. It was determined the moment I got this promotion, but now I see it's time for me to take my stand. We have reapers who would kill one another, and they must be dealt with." He smiled broadly. "And you will be one of my soldiers."
As if on cue, a short, pale reaper with brown hair stepped forward with a large needle. "I think it is time you to be chipped," Collins said.
Although his heart beat faster, Anderson did his best not to show any fear. "I thought that was voluntary," he remarked.
"For most it is," Collins agreed, "and it still is for you, but in a different sense. You see, there are two chips. This one won't change who you are in the least. It will only let us know where you are at at all times, and it will monitor thoughts so we will know if someone might become a danger. No you won't notice it." He stepped closer to bars as he allowed his voice to drop slightly. "But, there is another chip. It's far more controlling, and it's been known to completely destroy the mind after some time. You still have some purpose to me, but not for much longer. I'm sure you're ancient brain would handle it for a short time, and then you'll simply be discarded like trash." His laugh that followed was low and sinister.
"So, that is my choice?" asked Anderson.
Collins nodded. "I'll let you sleep on it tonight," he said, "but I'd really recommend the smaller chip if I were you." Still laughing, he exited down the hall leaving Anderson completely alone with this thoughts.
((x))
Grell had sworn she would never let anyone drive her to tears again, but she cried quietly in the kitchen after William had left. She had wanted him, and had genuinely enjoyed his kisses, but had gotten scared at the last minute. In truth, it was farther than she had ever gone with anyone, and a part of her wished she had been so afraid, but now she felt utterly rejected. William had gotten so mad, and he'd probably never want to touch her again even though they had grown so close recently.
As the day began to pass, her tears dried up as anger overtook her emotions. She had waited for William after all, and suddenly he didn't want her because she had stopped him. That didn't seem fair in the least, and she jumped from her stool as she wiped her face almost brutally. It didn't do any good to cry about things after all. She needed to take action. With no resolve, she stomped upstairs and returned to her room.
She was running low on makeup as she hadn't thought to pack much extra and that wasn't the sort of thing Pops thought about sending them even when he was able to do so. Instead of taking the time of reapplying everything, she grabbed a clean cloth and washed her face thoroughly. "What's the point of looking your best if no one even cares how you look?" she demanded her reflection.
A soft noise caught her attention, and she turned to see that Rosalind had entered the room and was perched at the head of her bed. "Do you see the point?" she asked the pigeon, who only cocked her head sideways. "Neither do I," Grell continued, as if there had been an answer. "You pigeons mate for life, and that's all I wanted to do. I waited for that man, but now I see that he didn't care. I could have slept with every man I ever saw, and he wouldn't have cared. He might have preferred it for all I know. He certainly didn't wait." She stood up and paced the room a few times. "How dare he make me feel guilty for wanting to wait for him, and I had ever right to turn him down. We've only just gotten to know each other, and he won't even call us a couple yet. He said we're partners."
With her freshly scrubbed face, she continued to vent mostly to herself as she walked back downstairs and prepared dinner in brisk manner before attacking the house. She couldn't help but wonder why she was still playing housewife when it seemed William would have preferred a whore, but she couldn't deny she actually enjoyed keeping everything neat and in order. Besides, it was good to have some outlet for all her restless energy. She ate lunch with no concern for William's whereabouts, although he was undoubtedly hungry at this point, and decided to use her afternoon cleaning and changing linens; starting with William's bed.
It was night before he finally returned, and she had already eaten dinner and was sitting in front of the fire when she heard the front door open and close. Her shoulders stiffened as she heard him walk towards the den, but he only paused in the door wordlessly before walking on towards the kitchen. Apparently he didn't even want to talk to her now, and that was okay with her. It had to be okay, although she would have been lying to herself if she didn't admit that it broke her heart a bit more. She could hear him as he got a plate of food and quietly ate his meal. Bitterness rose in her throat and threatened to spill down her face as she thought that at least her cooking was one way she satisfied him.
After what seemed like an eternity, he walked into the room and stood behind her. She could feel his eyes on the back of her head, but she didn't turn or acknowledge his presence. She was hoping he would at least apologize for the way he had treated her.
"Good night, Grell," he finally said. His voice dripped with forced formality. "Thank you for the food."
She loudly snorted. "You certainly sound thankful," she said with obvious sarcasm, "but you should be since that's the only thing you'll be getting from me."
He made a surprised noise before walking to stand before her. "I don't understand you at all," he said, "I thought I had finally figured you out, but first you toy with my emotions and you're the one who gets angry about it."
"I toyed with your emotions?" she shouted jumped up to stand before him. "You were the one touching me, remember? I let you go farther than anyone else..." Her voice trailed off as emotions choked her throat, and she feared she had already said too much. She turned to leave the room.
"Wait," he said, as he grabbed her arm, "Farther than anyone else? Grell, are you trying to tell me that you've never been with anyone?"
"I told you before," she said, as she turned to face him, "I told you I was a maiden, but you never listened. Probably heard one too many rumors about me, right?"
"I never believe rumors," he answered, "but I honestly didn't know you were being serious."
"Well, I was," she said, "When I was reborn, I was determined to find love and be a good wife. I just had to find someone strong enough to handle me, and I knew that man was you the moment you stood up to me. I know I was a being a terrible fool, but I waited." She shook her head. "A lot of good all that nonsense did me. You don't want me."
He pulled her close to look into her eyes, but she glanced away. She felt she looked dreadful without her makeup, and she didn't want to take a chance of crying in front of him. "I didn't know," he repeated, "and I want you more than anything. I'm the fool for not guessing and trying to push you farther than you felt comfortable. Will you forgive me?"
She felt like melting in his arms, but she didn't want him to see how easily he could manipulate her moods. "Maybe," she stated,"but you're not getting off that easily. You hurt me, my prince, and now you have to show me you're sorry."
A ghost of a smile found its way to his face. "I see," he said, "And how do I do that?"
Sitting down again in front of the fire, she looked up at him. "You'll find a way, I suspect."
He laughed lightly as he sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Am I on the right track?"
"I think so," she answered, "There is one thing I do like."
"What's that?"
"Your kisses," she replied, "I could simply get drunk on the nectar of your kisses."
He seemed unfazed by her romantic rhetoric as he turned her face to meet his and comply with her wishes. As always, she could feel the passion of the gentle pressure of his lips upon hers, but he seemed content with this for now. As for her, she felt like she was living out some wild fantasy. She was kissing her beloved in front of a roaring fire and, one day, she would give herself fully to him.
And he was content to wait.
((x))
Collins slowly walked around his house; looking at every detail as if seeing these quarters for the first time. When he had been first promoted, he had been amazed by his house, and felt it was truly a simple of how far he had come, but now it seemed to be lacking somehow. The high ceilings, rich decor, and beautiful floors were nice, but this not fit for a ruler. He would need a palace, and he felt he would have one in the near future, but there were other matters to attend to first. After Anderson was under his control, he would hunt down Spears and destroy him. He was the only wrench in his perfectly oiled plans, although his actions had actually helped Collins to move forward. He took a long drink of scotch, feeling the liquid burn down his throat, as he considered the situation. It seemed almost laughable now that those fools in Upper Management had actually considered William for this position, but at least they had come to their senses.
His tour complete, he started for his own bedroom so he could put on his nightclothes to retire for the night, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He frowned slightly, but he assumed that as ruler he would have to grow accustomed to late night visitors seeking his help. Walking boldly, he strode to the door and threw it open in a manner he hoped was regal. He was more than a little disappointed to find that it was only Bishop, although he was surprised to find that this assistant seemed out of breath. "What is the meaning of this, Bishop?" he demanded, "It's late."
"Sir," Bishop gasped, as he pushed his glasses up his narrow nose. "It's Pops. He's gone!"
"What?" roared Collins.
Bishop nodded. "One of the guards went to check earlier and his cell was empty. There was no trace of him, but no one can figure out how he escaped either. He was simply gone."
"That's impossible," Collins mumbled. Pushing past Collins, he walked outside and started towards the prison. "No one just vanishes."
Bishop didn't have a reply as they hurried down the streets. Most everyone else in their realm was asleep, but anyone looking out a window would have seen the two figures almost running through the shadows. Collins wasn't winded by the exertion, but sweat beaded across his forehead as his perfectly styled hair stuck to his skin. Anderson was crucial to his plans.
The guards were gathered all around the cell, but it was just as Bishop had described. The barrier was intact and there was no sign of any hole or disturbance. It look completely pristine, but there was no sign of Anderson. It was as if he had simply disappeared. Collins cursed quietly as he slammed his fist into the wall.
"What should we do, sir?" Bishop asked.
Collins whirled around. "We have to get the army ready. Spears and Sutcliff needs to be found now. Anderson is probably with him."
Everyone followed his orders without question, but Collins still found himself uneasy. His plans were still at the crucial early stages, but he had to be successful. All of the futures depended on him.
((x))
William knew he was dreaming, although he had never had a lucid dream in the past. Still, he knew that this was a dream as he walked through a garden that looked a lot like his mother had when he had been a boy. It was very vivid though as he could feel the dew on the leaves as he brushed past and smell the sweet fragrance of all the blooms, but he didn't question this as he walked forward until he came to a clearing. There was a table in the middle of the garden, and a dark haired man sat with his back to William as he approached. "Hello," William greeted as he stepped closer to the table.
The man turned around, and William halted in his steps. At fist glance, it appeared that William was looking at himself, but then he realized that this was is brother. "Martin?" he asked.
"You could call me that," returned the man.
"No," William realized, "You're that demon inside me, aren't you?"
"I thought it was time we talked face to face," the demon said, "but feel free to call me Martin if you wish."
"I don't wish to call you anything," William retorted, "I want you out of me."
The demon laughed lowly; contorting Martin's handsome face. "It's not that easy," he said, "I'm a part of you now. We've merged, as you well know, but this could work out the best for both of us. You can't protect the lovely redhead, you know. They will be coming after you. If you were to release me, then I could protect her."
"Never!" William replied, "I'd rather destroy both of us then to give you control."
"I will take control one way or another, William," the creature stated, "so you might want to reconsider this deal. At least this way, you'll have some say in the matter."
"No!" William screamed, and the force of his own scream suddenly jerked him awake. His mother's garden faded as the bedroom came into focus. He sat up on the bed; his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to make sense of the dream, but he could still hear the demon's laughter echoing in his head.
The door flew open and Grell came running into the room. "Will, darling," she said, "Are you okay? I heard you scream."
"I'm fine," he said, "I just had a nightmare."
She frowned as she studied his face. "Must have been some nightmare," she mused before leaving the room briefly. She soon returned with a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes," he said, "I'm sorry I woke you."
"That's okay," she said. With a sly smile, she put the towel on a nearby stand, before climbing into bed beside him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I thought I'd help you keep those nightmares away," she answered.
The dream still clung to his mind, and seeing her lying there so vulnerable scared him slightly. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked, "I'm not sure you can trust me."
"I trust you," she said, as she arranged herself beneath the covers. "Don't worry, darling. Get some sleep." She closed her eyes serenely, but he saw there was no use arguing with her. Besides, he did appreciate her lying next to him.
"Grell?"
"Hmmm?"
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I love you," he whispered, "And we are a couple."
She opened her eyes lazily as she smiled. "Now, you're truly forgiven," she said. Leaning forward so that her forehead was against his chest. "Goodnight, darling."
"Goodnight," he replied, but it appeared she had already fallen asleep.
Pushing aside all his fears, William relaxed, but he was reluctant to fall asleep. He was afraid the demon was waiting there for him in his nightmares.