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A precise sense of timing and a clear and concise sensory memory are essential to every Reaper. A Grim Reapers body is composed entirely of neutral energy, neither living nor entirely dead, and not perceived in any realm but their own as solid and real unless they put forth the effort to make it so. They are as insubstantial and invisible as ghosts in heaven, hell, the human realm, or any other plane unless they allow their energy to take on the respective qualities of matter found in those realms.

Even when taking the solid form of normal positive matter their endurance and physical abilities are many times that of an ordinary human. Reapers require food and rest to replenish their strength and changing their energy from neutral to either positive or negative matter is one of the most common yet tiring things they do on a daily basis. Their eyesight is also a flaw in most circumstances, designed to read the cinematic records of souls and the different types of energy around them. Reapers rely heavily on their glasses to see effectively when in any realm but their own. For some human recruited Reapers their eyes never adjust perfectly and they stay nearly blind to anything other than the souls they were forged to collect.

The Reaper realm itself exists in neutral time and space, a misty insubstantial pocket dimension sandwiched between other realms like the eye of a storm where everything is always still and unchanging. There is no turn of seasons or shifting weather patterns, only the haze of sunless blue sky that fades to dark and back to light every twelve hours. The temperature is always a pleasant degree that never varies. There is no need for the cycles of nature since death permanently walks the streets embodied in every inhabitant. There is no past or future here, there is only existing, and not existing, and the work of death that follows the human realms timeline in between.

Travelling between places and realms to conduct the business of collecting souls relies on negative energy. Every Reaper has the uncanny ability to change their own neutral energy into this negative force deliberately conflicting with the positive energy and matter of the universe at large. In this way Reapers are able to direct said energy to a very specific point thereby bending the planes of space upon itself to create a gateway, a wormhole connecting two different locations and points in time in a single instant. Usually referred to simply as "phasing" from one place to another, Reaper gateways are only sanctioned between well known locations. Blind phasing to unmapped locations is never encouraged for the obvious fact that one could become fatally stuck within objects if the landing point is not clear and well memorized. Entry and exit points to other realms like the human one are almost always the same safe buildings and fields kept clear by the dispatch association for just such a purpose.

William should have expected that Ronald Knox did not have the finesse or experience to make a smooth gateway, nor a good sense of timing by the very large and overly showy wrist watch he wore, nor even the faintest hint of a decent memory going by how many late reports he submitted on a daily basis.

As they both nearly smacked their noses into the concrete wall at the side of the main entrance to the dispatch offices William knew he really couldn't say anything. He should have known better than to ask.

The only other Reaper whose energy he ever travelled on was Grell. Should William ever be caught unaware enough not to pull away in time the red Reaper made phasing as simple and seamless as blinking and then they were there without any chance of escape. And "there" almost always involved red satin sheets strewn with rose petals and other very scary things he'd like not to have been blinded with. Sometimes he wondered if Grell were the true reason his vision was so terrible without the aid of his very important glasses.

"Thank-you, Mr. Knox."

William ground out as he snatched his hand back and adjusted his glasses to glare at the very solid grey wall before them. Another few inches and they would have been in a very bad way. He straightened his suit jacket and smoothed his hair back into place from the rough jerking turns of their trip. Then the Dispatch Manager non chalantly stepped out of the prickly juniper bushes in the narrow strip of ornamental garden and out onto the spongy grass of the main lawn. Ronald beside him looked red as a tomato. He flailed his hands in a cancelling motion and all but fell out of the garden.

"Ah ha! Sorry! Sorry! Didn't mean to cut it so close Sir! I was just thinking bout Maria over in accounting, you know that blond with the curls who always wears a green bow in her hair that matches her eyes? Her hallways just left of the main entrance so I guess I went a little off course…"

William was not interested in excuses or how Knox seemed to know every female staff member by their given name. For a moment he seriously tried to recall if having an employee castrated was actually against the rules despite the fact that it would regenerate in a day or so. Once he was on the steps to the towering modern glass office building of the London branch he turned and gave his junior a sharp unforgiving glare.

"Give me your death book and meet me in my office shortly. You are to tell Mr. Peters from Wessex County he had best have all my paperwork up to date."

"Right away Chief! You got it! I'll make sure everythings in order!"

Knox handed over the book and saluted him. He bounded up the stairs like a runner who had just heard a starters pistol almost bowling over another reaper carrying paperwork as he shouldered through the glass doors. William would have sighed in exasperation except for the fact that deep breaths still pained him. Instead he shook his head and slowly and resolutely made his way into the almost painfully bright fluorescent lights and pristine white and grey space of the main lobby. Other busy dark suited reapers passed him by, heads down and lost in their paperwork or talking in quiet tones with their colleagues about case work. He swiped his ID card to access the elevators for the second floor. It was being lazy, but he was done with stairs for the day.

One look at the punch clock when he walked by it and the slats along the wall for death books and William could tell that Grell was not working at all today. It was a rare thing indeed to see the small red leather bound book still in it's place this time of day. Grell was usually eager to do his field work and not so eager to actually go further into the offices to set foot in his own cubicle for paperwork. William picked up the death book and added it to Ronalds.

At the glass wall across the counter of the General Affairs Department William stopped to ask after his death scythe. This area was heavily warded and a Reaper could not summon their scythe unless it was first signed out. The pleasant neat looking woman behind the counter, he never remembered her name and couldn't be bothered to look at her ID tag, politely told him that it had indeed been recovered for him and since repaired. After swiping his ID card she passed his tree pruners with their telescoping handle over to him through the small window in the glass.

William immediately had a feeling of relief pass through him as he held his weapon up and examined the length of the shaft for any dents or bends. It was perfect and the feeling of his own energy he'd marked it with resonating from the grip brought an almost smile to his face. He had a very painful understanding of just how deadly an instrument it was and appreciated the privilege of wielding it even more. He quickly stowed it away from sight in a small subspace field within his own aura to be materialized later when needed. There was a fair chance that going to the human realm was going to tax him and if he didn't need it as a weapon he may very well rely on it as a cane.

As he turned to leave something silver and very red on one of the back shelves caught his eye and he had to turn back. It was clearly Grells chainsaw. It was somewhat strange to see it there and William looked from one side to the other as if he expected its owner to pop up and ask for it that very second. He made his way back up to the window.

"Has Mr. Sutcliff not been by today to pick up his scythe?"

He inquired carefully. Grell had a bad habit of rarely if ever turning in his scythe at the end of his shifts and hated to be without it. That lapse in obeying regulations had probably been part of the reason William was alive here today. The brunette behind the counter looked up from some paper work and adjusted her copper framed glasses at him.

"No Sir. Not yet. It's only just been fixed. They had a time of it trying to get a new chain made and the sides were dented in fairly badly. Luckily there was nothing wrong with the mechanisms or the magnetic field resonances in the power core or we' d have been up the creek. She's all ready to go now though."

Maintenance had probably had the stench of demon blood to scrub out of it as well if Ronalds account of the aftermath of the attack were accurate. William was grateful his own scythe had been well disinfected on his behalf.

"I see. Might I sign that one out too? I am Agent Sutcliffs Supervisor and I'm on my way to see him."

William said plainly without any hint of nefarious intent. It would be far better if Grell was unarmed when they met just in case his mood was a sour one. Preventing him from signing out his beloved scythe from General Affairs also meant he couldn't get his hands on it unless he was intent on coming back to work. William had the best form of blackmail he could get.

"Ah, yes of course Mr. Spears, Sir. Just fill out this form here."

She obviously knew who he was without needing to be told since he'd looked after Grells scythe issues for years now. Almost everyone knew who the red Reaper was simply by reputation without need for explanation as well. The clerk easily pushed new paperwork across to him. William took a fountain pen out of his front pocket and filled it out almost by memory. He looked up abruptly when a loud crash alerted him to the poor womans difficulties. Grells chainsaw was far heavier than it looked and the blade had taken a good chunk out of the marble floor tiles when it fell from her grip.

"Hells bells! Those brats in maintenance do this to me every time! They know not to put the heavy clunkers up on the top shelf!"

William would have offered to help but the woman was intent on fulfilling her duty and dragging the chainsaw across the floor for him causing a terrible ear splitting screech as the spiky blade scraped against the tiles. Everyone along the counter row turned to look at them and William tried to seem as if it didn't bother him in the least. He pulled off a very good straight face and no one else came to help the swearing clerk as if convinced this was the usual way such a scythe was delivered. She finally heaved it up onto the counter with a defining clunk and then swore again as it wouldn't fit through the small window in the glass.

"For the love of Pete, who designs these god awful things!" She swore another few choice words under her breath and swung it into the rolling chair she'd been sitting in. She wheeled the red chainsaw out through a side door and around the row of counters towards William. He had to give her a few points for creativity and not giving up.

"I can't understand how such a weighty monstrosity can be used for snipping away cinematic records, but here you go."

The clerk all but snapped at him as William hefted the chainsaw with both hands and promptly stowed it away alongside his own scythe. Just lifting it made his arms ache on a normal day, he was sure today he'd have fallen over if he tried to take two steps. Grells deceptively smaller more slender physique hid a great deal of preternatural strength and William had firsthand knowledge that the scythes true owner had no trouble at all handling her. Grell had designed and made it himself after all without any regard for regulations or what a dignified and discrete Reapers scythe was supposed to look like.

"Thank-you for your trouble Mame. And for future reference, this particular scythe and it's owner specialize in dismembering demonic foes."

The clerk was suddenly all smiles at him once more as she placed rumors with facts.

"Ah! Right oh! Keep up the good work and have yourself a jolly good afternoon! We're most proud of you Sir for giving those hell spawn what for! Central Division has all our toasts at the pub!"

William gave her a sedate nod and went on his way as he tried not to feel like an undeserving failure for being run through with his own scythe. He definitely wasn't going to mention it at the moment.

He decided he was going up to his own floor to find some senior reapers in his own division he could give Knox and Grells work load to. As a Dispatch Manager and Division Supervisor the twenty second floor was his own personal domain. Reapers were divided up into different divisions even amongst the departments. A division was a smaller work group to handle different areas of their given territory and although William was the Dispatch Manager for the entirety of the London Branch of the Shinigami Dispatch Association he still had his own personal group of working reapers to supervise. His was called Central Division and focused their efforts on the downtown core of London itself. Recently Williams group, composed of some of the most experienced Reapers in London, were used to pick up extra cases in other outlying areas. Especially collections that dealt with demonic elements such as Earl Phantomhive and his hell sent butler.

Currently Central Division of the London Dispatch was down to nine pairs of working Field Agents composed of a Senior Agent and their Junior in training. Among them he would have to see who was available and far enough along in their own case load to handle extra work.

As soon as the elevator doors opened William phased into invisibility just on the near side of creating a gateway and dampened the energy in his aura for undetectable stealth. He didn't frequent this technique often for spying on employees but thought it prudent at the moment to avoid the unwanted attention of his return. It was the optimum method for observing his subordinates when they thought he wasn't around.

Everything seemed to be normal, most of the cubicles and offices he passed were messier than usual with piles of neglected paperwork but otherwise empty as this was prime time for reapers to be out in the field. He spotted Eric Slingby entering Allan Humphries office and decided he had his targets. It was just after lunch and both should be getting back to work. The fact Agent Slingby wasn't in the field must mean he had completed all of his cases for the day or at the very least had a large gap of time before his next collection.

William however stayed invisible as he approached thinking it was better to use discretion before engaging them and interrupting something that may be private between the two. They were lovers after all and William acknowledged that their relationship was vital to their productivity at work.

He watched from the hallway through a crack in the blinds across the front of the glass walled office space. The tall rough looking blond with one half of his head dyed in dark cornrows came around behind his shorter seated colleague. He bent down and whispered something close to his ear that made Allan adjust his oval glasses and his usually sickly complexion coloured with a blush.

The paperwork before Allan stopped being filled out which made William frown. It made him frown even more when Erics lips and goatee brushed the side of Allans slim neck. Allan raised a hand to the front of his collar where there were still gauze bandages showing above the white starched fabric and his black bolo tie. His pale rose lips parted in a soft and wanting gasp even as his partner moved away, snatching away half of the paperwork from the pile in front of him.

Eric laughed his usual hearty laughter with a cocky grin and pulled up a spare chair to park his broader lanky frame down beside his partner.

"Eric! Hey! No fair you tease, that's mine! You know I can't go out in the field yet, you promised you'd let me handle your paperwork!"

The brunet reaper was stubborn and pouted indignantly at him with an angry glare as the other held the stolen papers just beyond his reaching black gloved fingertips.

"Awww, come on Sweetheart, you know there's plenty of this stuff to go around! If I don't chip in you'll be stuck here for overtime and it's the only thing a mine you'll get to "handle". You know how I hate goin home to a cold empty bed."

William wondered for a moment if that's what Grell had always been trying to do when he came into his office and leaned over him from behind to steal a kiss just like Eric had. He had the feeling if he didn't slap Grells reaching hands away that he'd have aimed lower and grabbed something far less appropriate than the stack of paperwork.

"Don't you 'Sweetheart' me Eric Slingby! I'm not completely useless you know, I can still do paperwork just fine! And I'm taking that combat test next week whether you like it or not. I can't stand being in here when I know what kind of a mess you have to face out in London every day. Without Spears to pick up the slack and Grell gone off on another bender somewhere…"

Eric reached over and tousled his junior partners soft chestnut hair lovingly and bumped their shoulders together to try and playfully lighten his mood.

"I know, I know. You wanna get back on your feet and reap yourself some demons too. Just don't go rushing things Al, ok? You still get me worried sometimes…"

"Ah, sorry… You know…if we do get this pile done and there's no overtime tonight, maybe we could…"

Allan began almost shyly but there was an eager spark in his lemon lime eyes as he leaned closer to his partner. His suddenly bare ungloved fingers were tracing the lapel of Erics open suit jacket and slipping inside the already unbuttoned shirt collar. The larger man hummed approvingly and leaned in too.

Another few seconds and there would be absolutely no paperwork at all being done. William chose to phase back into visibility and gave a sharp business like knock just below the brass name plate on Field Agent Allan Humphries door.

"Mr. Humphries, Mr. Slingby, are you free at the moment?"

He called in his usual emotionless voice. Addressing his agents simply by their last names instead of their working titles was about as informal as William ever got and he wanted it to be clear he was not on the clock just yet.

Both Reapers heads snapped up at the knock and Eric shot to his feet knowing he wasn't supposed to be working in here since he had his own office just down the hall. William impatiently opened the door on his own and loomed there like a dark shadow risen from the grave.

"Jezus, Spears! What the hell are you doing back here! They told us you took a death scythe straight through your gut!"

Eric exclaimed without really thinking.

"Indeed."

William looked at him coldly and adjusted the side arm of his glasses with two fingers in a kind of salute. Eric simply looked back at him for a moment with his mouth slightly gaping, then it instantly turned up into a wider grin and he came forward and slapped his supervisor on his shoulder.

"Fourteen demons, eh! Never knew you had it in ya! We used to think you were getting rusty from sitting behind that desk of yours all day."

"Welcome back, Sir. We're glad to see you looking so well !"

Allan said more calmly with a rare bright smile. He was actually very relieved to see that things were getting back to normal, although he was already eying the death books tucked under Williams arm.

"Thank-you Mr. Humphries. And you also."

William intoned politely, then turned to give Eric another glacial glare refusing to budge an inch under his rough treatment.

"Sutcliff was the one who took down the demons. Neither I nor Mr. Knox were effective in that encounter … Has he been by the office today?"

Both reapers in front of him had their eyes widen and they looked at each other and then back at him.

"No Sir, we haven't seen Grell since before, well, since Monday afternoon when he headed out after you. You don't think he's finally, um, snapped, do you Sir?"

It was a question that had to be asked after all and Allan had always been one to get straight to the point.

"There is always that possibility." William admitted honestly. "I am on my way to the human realm with Mr. Knox to search for him. The two of you will cover the rest of their cases for today."

William handed over the small leather bound books to Eric and the blond groaned and ran a hand through his shaggy side swept bangs.

"God I hate overtime! When that balmy ginger gets back here I'm gonna give him a dam good pounding for this."

"You might not want to say that anywhere Grell can hear of it Eric. He is right off tearing up more demons than you or I have ever seen, not to mention he might take it an entirely different way..."

Allan pointed out logically, his expression having fallen into tighter more concerned lines at the thought of a chainsaw wielding psychopath coming after his boyfriend with possibly amorous intent.

"Fuck if you're right. And I sure ain't buying him another pint next time he sits in my lap."

Eric crossed his arms and that seemed to be Williams cue to leave with a curt 'Good day gentlemen." since he did not need to hear the argument that was surely going to start between the pair about when and where the flirtatious red head had done what with Eric. He could see the cool jealousy building in Allans expression already and he tried to ignore the tightening of his own fist at his side. It was definitely time to get back to the comfort of his own office.

William was glad for one thing as he walked away, that he had two of his most reliable reapers back on duty where he needed them. It had only been a month after all since their "defection" and as unproductive as some of their activities were, at least they were still here. Young Allans constant and debilitating affliction, the thorns of death, also seemed to be in remission since his return. He may never fully regain his stamina and health but he was certainly much happier and more effective than he'd ever been before.

If anyone were to ask the Queens watch dog Earl Phantomhive or his demonic servant the outcome of that particular case they would both proclaim victory and the demise of two death gods at their own hands. It was something that made even William himself crack a wane smile at the thought. Perhaps that scum Sebastian Michaelis could kill one Reaper, maybe, if they were having a bad day. But the fact that they claimed to have taken down an experienced pair of Grim Reapers was ludicrous to everyone.

It was true Allan had been injured by his partners death scythe when he'd put himself between the blade and Erics target trying to stop the confrontation. A neck wound from a scythe was an incredibly serious matter to most reapers. It was a mistake that stopped Eric from going any further. He'd literally dropped everything including his pride, scooped Allan up into his arms and raced back to the dispatch infirmary with him. Their plans for running away together as fugitives because Eric was intent on sacrificing his collected souls to cure his partners illness completely evaporated. The Undertaker, who also happened to have a fair number of death scythe scars and was living proof a neck wound could be survived, had covered up for them in the human world.

Grell had taken the blame for letting the drama play out since he'd apparently known what was going on the entire time between his two colleagues. He'd gone on and on about how romantic it all was and how entertaining. His mooning over how much time he'd been able to spend with his "darling Sebas-chan" while tracking the pair down got him a good whack over the head with Williams death scythe handle. If anyone was to blame for things going too far it was Grell Sutcliff and his pay was docked for a solid four months to cover damages and expenses during that useless mission. And he was definitely not allowed to keep any of the dresses from the undercover work at Vis Count Druitts ball.

William had been forced to look the other way about the dozen or so souls that had been missing from Count Druitts serial murders and accept them as being filed late. Eric had been nowhere near collecting the absurdly high number of one thousand pure souls mentioned in that old legend for the cure. Punishment for Senior Field Agent Eric Slingby had been a mere two weeks of overtime hours and with that the matter was closed.

The irony of the whole mess was that Eric had been ready to sacrifice everything to find a cure for his beloved partner, but he had overlooked the fact that he'd already found it. The thorns of death were as much an emotional disease as a physical one. The affects grew and fed on negative emotions, inching agonizingly closer to constrict the reapers heart whenever sympathy opened up the gates to let in the cold clawing despair of those lost souls. Allan didn't have long to live before he died painfully and alone. His own pain and despair only fuelled the course of his disease that much faster.

But Allan wasn't alone. The love and care of his partner had already been prolonging his life. The attacks grew worse when they happened, but they hadn't been able to claim him to the puzzlement of the doctors. Once Eric had finally confessed his love for Allan, and the brunette had shyly, wonderingly admitted his own feelings, the disease had nothing to further it. It wasn't a true cure, but the thorns would never be able to claim his life while he had Erics love to guard his heart.

It was the Undertaker himself who had told them Allan wouldn't die of the thorns. The retired reaper had come by the infirmary to personally check on the poor youngsters neck wound and had a good long laugh over the pairs quiet defeated misery. He handed them both back their glasses and said he'd been sorely disappointed Allan wasn't going to need his "special" coffin after all. It really was a happy occasion and yet even Williams eye was twitching at the elder shinigami and he shared Erics urge to just deck him for keeping them in the dark so long and then laughing about it. Undertaker was almost as bad as Grell sometimes.

A very dim and grudgingly found light bulb went off in Williams head as he thought of Undertaker, the legendary Shinigami he had most admired and idolized as a young recruit. He thought of Grell, and he compared him to the Undertaker, and it was enough to triple his headache. They were both very competent and clever reapers who were bored enough with everyday things they had to add their own brand of insanity to liven things up.

There were many faces of death in the Dispatch Society, but among them those two stood out above all others for William. Undertaker was the pale silver of bone bleached pure under silent dust laden moonbeams, the slow and steady creeping of madness and the cold damp of disease settling beneath ones skin and rotting everything away into inevitable nothingness. Grell was the scarlet splash of blood against the satin night, every startled scream at the end of a life, the red violent tearing of flesh passionate and abrupt and terrifying without hope of escape. They were two different extremes of death and William acknowledged they both had their time and place.

Undertaker had always been the true embodiment of a Reaper for William, his achievements represented everything he'd aspired to in his career. Was Grell any less capable despite the number of times he'd called him a useless nuisance? If Undertaker was the perfect Shinigami and yet equally if not more so annoying than Grell, did that mean William was the one in the wrong to be annoyed by their antics? It definitely made his head hurt.

Lost in his thoughts Williams feet had taken him down the familiar path to his own office and he'd arrived before he even realized it. He opened the door before him and nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

"Honestly!"

He exclaimed in his usual derisive tone as he came upon the horrors that assaulted his eyes. The scene before him was a complete and unorganized disaster! His dark mahogany desk was buried in leaning piles of randomly stacked paperwork, a box of empty manilla file folders was square in the middle of the floor, the uncomfortable chairs for visitors are completely removed and missing, all the filing cabinets behind his desk are open and messily rifled through with precious pages of information spilling out. His almost never used black leather chaise lounge along the side wall was scratched and piled to it's sagging limit with heavy stacks of binders of quarterly reports and employee files. The bookshelf along the opposite wall was completely out of order. His typewriter was missing it's ribbon and pushed off to the side on top of more random cardboard boxes of files. His black stapeler was in the terra cotta pot of the unwatered and very limp looking potted fern in the corner.

This space was more than just a large and well earned corner office with a good view. It was his sanctuary! His place of sacred order! His only comfort against the chaos of the human realm and the incompetent mistakes of those around him! And someone had destroyed all that in a matter of days.

"Mr. Spears, Sir! I'm Agent Simon Peters from down in Wessex County! Been helping your department out a bit while you were indisposed. So good to finally make your acquaintance! Your fast recovery is simply miraculous Sir! We were all just talking about it, were'nt we boys?"

A broad shouldered handsome fellow in a light blue waist coat with his white shirt sleeves rolled up and missing his black jacket and tie called out in a friendly voice. He had blond waved hair and flashed a charming blinding white smile as he stepped across the rubble to hold out a bare hand for William to shake. Ronald was in the background and caught looking as spooked as a deer about to be shot. His arms were full with a box of files he was trying to cram away in the cabinets. A young male secretary with short spiky silver hair from General affairs was helping him by gathering more files from the floor and piling them in his box. He too had frozen when William threw the door open.

"Agent Peters. Explain the state of my office at once."

William did not shake the offered hand. Instead he looked about ready to bite it off and the other man withdrew and took a step back. Williams aura had taken on a very threatening cold edge and everyone in the office waited for Mr. Peters to try and save them.

"Ah, well, nothing to get worked up about Sir, I assure you! We just misplaced a few files and had to go searching for them. And the new ones kept coming in, Londons a might bit bigger than Wessex you see, why your Central Division alone has more collections in a day than we'd see in a month! I had to pile them up on the desk there and then a few more things went astray while I was dealing with the ghost of that shepherd that wouldn't pass on till every one of his sheep were with him. It was a real bother that one was, I'll tell you. Had to coral their ghosts all in the break room so the fellow could count them and be satisfied. We aren't even the ones responsible for the records of animals, had to go all the way over to the Catalogue of Nature department and search through their records for them and then call them all back from the other side!"

"You have so many employees here, I didn't have a second to myself to spare chasing after all the paperwork and scheduling all the shifts and assignments and fixing all the problems that come up with all these cases! I don't know how you do it Mr. Spears! You'd think someone would have found a better way to organize all this by now!"

William simply stared at the man severely unimpressed. Mr Peters realized his winning smile was not working on this particular Reaper and looking to Knox who only shrugged meekly didn't do him any good either. He swallowed heavily as he realized he'd not only made an unseemly mess of the mans office but insulted his filing system as well. The overwhelmed man stood there at a loss for a moment, scraping for more to say before William cut him off just as he opened his mouth.

"Junior Agent Knox will be accompanying me to the human realm to look in on a wayward staff member who did not clock in for his scheduled shift today. You will have this office in order by the time we return. Is that understood Agent Peters?"

William didn't utter any sort of threat. His ominous death glare said more than enough. It was a fact that the office would be back together or Mr. Peters was going to end up on the wrong side of a scythe come the end of the day. No one messed with William T. Spears paperwork!

"I, ah, y,yes! Yes of course Mr Spears, Sir!"

William had already turned his back and was heading out the door at a brisk pace. If he stayed in there any longer he knew he was going to need to stab a certain vainly charming and barely competent Reaper repeatedly.

"Chief! Hey! Wait!"

Ronald had dropped his box of files and run after him, glad not to be left behind to file but actually more than a little terrified of having to spend more time with his boss when he was in such a blatantly homicidal mood. Everyone knew William lived by order and rules and he couldn't stand any form of slacking off. It wasn't really Mr Peters fault that he couldn't handle the massive work load William was used to dealing with. A team of a dozen reapers would probably be needed to replace him if he ever retired since the territory London dispatch covered was gaining more and more population and therefore more souls to reap by the day. William was only holding things together because he knew the system so well and did not take time for anything else besides work.

William stopped and waited for Ronald once he was within the small labarynth of cubicles for the other Divisions. He was still wanting to just throttle someone and eyed Ronald coldly. The junior Reaper held up both his hands defensively and tried his best innocent look to avoid having the handle of his Managers scythe land on his head.

"Look, I'm real sorry bout your office! I had no idea he let it get that bad!"

The scythe was summoned and the hard handle came down with a loud crack. It was reflex after so many years.

"You are not excused Agent Knox. You had to have turned in paper work yesterday and noticed the state of things."

"Ow! Ow! Fine! But I was still recovering ya know! I wasn't gonna do overtime to help him out, it's his job and he screwed it up!"

Ronald whined and rubbed at the top of his head. His boss really was merciless! William held out his gloved hand and for a moment Ronald just stared at it warily.

"I'm waiting Mr. Knox. You are only here so that you can phase us to the human realm."

"Oh! Oh yeah..." Ronald said and took his hand, slightly ducking as he did so since Williams other hand moved upwards as he made his long death scythe disappear once more.

"Where to first? There are tons of places Grell Sempai could go to hang out..."

There were endless shops and cafes and pubs, even art museums and theaters were not out of the question. And the Season was still in high swing for yatching parties, picnics, horse races, garden parties, and grand balls. There were any number of distractions for Grell who always complained to be bored of the human realm but still interested enough to keep going back and giving each newly invented entertainment a try.

William adjusted his glasses and if his expression had been stony and cold before his gaze now would bury anyone.

"The gatehouse at Enfield."

"Wait, Enfield? But that's right near..."

"Yes, we are heading to the Phantomhive manor."

William informed him in no uncertain terms.

"Bloody demons again."

Was all Ronald grumbled as he gathered his energy for their departure. He had a feeling Williams foul mood was going to be put to good use there whether they found Grell or not.

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Authors notes:

I have no beta reader at the moment. I apologize for missing ownership apostrophes, excessive comma splices, oddly spelled words, beginning sentences with "But", " And", and other lazy words, missing and inconsistent capitalization, and not being able to shorten horribly boring explanations that probably don't need to be included but make the world a little easier to understand if you care about those sorts of little details. Also, it is summer and I spend a lot of time at my family cottage away from electricity so updates will be slow.

Time line notes:

I ran into a problem between historical dates and dates derived from the musical and manga. My own story is now AU. It begins in late August of 1889.

Kuroshitsuji musical 2 is set in 1888 because Ciel is born on Dec 14 1875 and he is said to be 13 yrs old during the musical. This is what slightly messes things up for me. The historical fact of when the actual Jack the Ripper murders take place is Nov 1888, white chapel, Londons east end, the close of ten weeks of the ripper murders with Mary Kelly the last victim found in her flat.

Grell was put on probation for several months for his involvement following the Jack the Ripper murders. The Campania incident in the manga in which he was fully reinstated and back to working with Ronald Knox as his junior took place April 17th. (In real life the HMS Campania did not sink until 1918 after she had been converted into an aircraft carrier during the first WW and went down during a storm.)

Also inconsistent with the musical the Crystal Palace did not burn down until 1939 when it was completely empty of people and the blaze started overnight in an office garbage can. There was never an historical event there that claimed the lives of 700 people as portrayed in the musical so I've somewhat disregarded that for my own story.

For the sake of continuity my time line looks like: Ripper murders, Grells probation, Sinking of the Campania, then the second musical with Eric and Allans story because Grell had to be a working reaper capable of solo missions during this time. There is picnicking and balls held during the musical that mean it must have taken place during the late spring and summer months during 'the season' or social season of the upper classes. Grell had a history with Sebastian in the musical and so it cannot have happened before the Ripper Murders when he played butler for Madame Red and first met him, it had to be set some time afterwards. For the purpose of this story the events of the musical take place in the early summer of 1889 instead of 1888.

thank-you for reading! ^^