Work Text:
The scratch of pen on paper is the only sound audible in Will's office. It's early on a Tuesday and there are numerous documents to be filled out, stamped, and promptly filed away. He has several incident reports to read over before he sends them off through their proper channels – it’s shaping up to be a rather busy morning.
For whatever reason - undoubtedly a whim, for there is no one more prone to them - Grell is in his office and sitting across from him at his desk.
She has been blessedly quiet save for her initial greeting ten minutes ago. She sits now with her feet propped on the corner of his desk and her gloves discarded beside them. She removed them almost immediately after entering his office to free her hands for the important task they are currently busy with: folding blank paper into complicated shapes. There is a growing pile of paper art on his desk, most notably – and unsurprisingly – hearts and roses.
Will would ask her why she feels the need to do this in his office rather than her own, but he’s certain he wouldn't like the answer, so he doesn't bother. They work (if what Grell is doing can be called work) in companionable silence for an hour before a knock at the door disturbs the quiet.
"Enter," Will calls, eyes never leaving his work.
Grell lazily lifts her head and, upon spotting the nervous looking junior in the doorway, shifts her attention to Will. He still hasn't looked up from the papers he's scrawling over in neat black ink.
"State your business."
"Ah, Mr. Spears, sir. My partner has, um, misplaced his, erm."
Finally, Will lifts his head. His gaze fixes unwaveringly on the young reaper who is starting to sweat under the weight of his scrutiny.
"Um," he stutters, eyes fluttering toward Grell in a desperate ploy for assistance. She only smiles slowly, baring sharp teeth. "To Die list," the boy finishes, practically whispering.
"Your partner," Will repeats. The reaper nods quickly. "Where is he?"
"Uh."
Grell's lips curl. She flicks her eyes back toward Will and is unsurprised to see him adjusting his glasses.
"I would like a word with him," Will states, adjusting his suit jacket. "Now." The reaper gapes a few times before hurriedly nodding and fleeing the room.
Will sighs, gaze wandering to the clock on the wall. "It isn't even lunchtime and I've already a mess to clean up." He looks at Grell.
"Hm. It's not a mess of mine, at least." She picks up a fresh piece of paper and folds it smoothly in half. Will inclines his head toward her in silent agreement.
Thank god for small miracles.
Five minutes pass before a wiry young reaper wearing over-sized glasses comes slinking into the room. He hunches over slightly, looking unsure of himself and very, very guilty. "Mr. Spears," he says timidly. When he realizes Grell is there as well, he flushes and straightens to his full height. "Ms. Sutcliff," he adds, shyly avoiding her eyes.
Will clears his throat, drawing the boy's attention away from Grell. "Your name." He clicks his pen pointedly and readies a page to write on.
"C-Colin," Colin answers. "Colin Powell." He swallows nervously as Will jots down that information.
"You lost your List," Will begins matter-of-factly.
"Ah, if I may...” The junior clears his throat, and cautiously interrupts, “I misplaced it, sir. See, James and I went out last night after we finished up collections and we didn't stop to change first." Words bubble quickly out of Colin's mouth, before he can lose his nerve. "I had my List in my jacket for safe keeping but, well. When I woke up this morning I couldn't find it." He takes a breath. "It’s got to be around my place, right? Can't rightly grow legs and wander off, now can it?" He laughs nervously.
Will's mouth doesn't so much as twitch. Grell licks her lips. This will be good.
Will rises from his chair and strides toward Colin, broad shoulders taut with tension. He takes a breath, adjusts his glasses, and lays into the boy with cutting efficiency. As Will speaks, the nervous smile on Colin's face fades into a mask of contrition. Grell twists in her seat to watch the way Will circles the junior, anger making his stride as clipped as his tone.
By the time he's nearing the end of his tirade on "reaper responsibility" and "the importance of properly filing your work before gallivanting off to party" poor Colin is trembling in his shined regulation shoes. As much as Grell adores watching a seething Will cut into a reaper who has disappointed him, even she must admit Colin has had enough.
"William dear." Grell leans her chin on her forearm where it's draped across the back of her chair. "Take pity on the poor whelp. You've nearly shaken the boy out of his shoes." She pouts sympathetically at the junior.
"T-Thank you Ms. Sutcliff," Colin stutters, daring to look up from the fascinating floorboard he's been studying throughout Will's lecture.
"That was my aim," Will says, looking to Grell and adjusting his glasses when she continues eyeing him critically. He frowns and returns his attention to the young reaper. Colin drops his eyes again. "I expect you to search your flat from top to bottom, Mr. Powell. I'll have a new List for you ready after lunch. You will complete the reapings on that List as well as the one you will find." He catches Grell's smile out of the corner of his eye. "That will be all."
Colin bows politely at both of them, then turns on his heel and bolts from the room. Grell chuckles.
"My, my. What a precious boy." She rises out of her chair and crosses the room toward Will. "And you, my dear ice prince. So cold to such a little one." Her fingers snag his tie above his waistcoat and travel up the length of black silk to his throat.
"Do not scold me for doing my job, Grell Sutcliff." Will doesn't lean away from Grell's hands even as they start loosening his tie.
"Scold you?" Grell raises both eyebrows. "Why would I do that? You make me feverish with desire when you're cruel, William." She shivers and leans into Will's chest. “Mmm.” Her fingers have picked apart the knot of his tie and she tugs lightly at one end, sending silk slipping down Will's chest.
"Do I," Will muses, looking somewhere over Grell's right shoulder. Grell hums in reply. He allows her lips to touch his throat and the line of his jaw, all the while only betraying a slight shiver at the attention to sensitive skin. When she reaches his ear and blows over it gently, he stops her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Then it will thrill you,” he says, folding his hands around both of her shoulders, “when I tell you to stop accosting me. I have work to finish." He pushes her backward and steps around her to walk back to his desk. Her lips part in surprise and then curl up in amusement.
“Playing hard to get, hm? I love a good chase.” Grell drops back into the chair she’s been occupying and runs the fabric of Will’s stolen tie through her fingers.
Once Will is settled in his seat, he holds out a hand. “I’ll take that back, thank you.” Grell purses her lips and pets the tie, her painted nails bright against the black. She shakes her head.
“No,” she says. “I think I’d like to wear it today.” She loops the silk around her neck and starts to tie it. Will stares at her, his hand still outstretched. Grell raises her eyes to meet his and laughs at the frown drawing his brows together.
Her fingers pick apart the knot and she lets the silk slip through her fingers to pool in Will’s palm. “You’re no fun,” she pouts, retrieving another piece of paper from the desk. Will doesn’t comment; he flips the collar of his shirt upward and starts retying his tie.
Grell watches him from under her lashes, attention seemingly focused on the origami rose she’s folding. Her eyes track the practiced movement of Will’s hands as he deftly pulls the tie taut and guides it into place at the base of his throat. She wets her lips as his hands fold his collar over again and smooth down his immaculate suit jacket.
“What?” he queries, adjusting his glasses. He is far from unaware of her not-so-subtle attention. Daintily, and without looking at him, Grell places the folded rose in line with the other paper creations displayed across Will’s desk. “You’re looking at me oddly,” he prompts.
“That’s because your tie is crooked, darling.” Grell stands and rounds the desk to perch on the edge closest to Will. He frowns at her but tilts his head and accepts her help in straightening his tie. “There.” She touches his chin. Their eyes meet, and she smiles. “Take me to lunch, Will.”
Will raises one brow. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, Grell.” She shrugs, thumb passing back and forth across his chin.
“Brunch, then,” she corrects easily. “You and I need a break. We’ve had an eventful morning, my dear.” Will cuts his eyes to the folded paper on his desk. Grell grins, leaning close.
Will sighs. Grell won’t give up, he knows this. If he leaves with her now he may be able to work in peace for the rest of the day. “Fine,” he agrees, turning his face out of her grasp. “Brunch it is.” Grell claps her hands together, ecstatic.
“Brilliant! I want to go to the café around the corner, William.” She stands and begins pulling on her gloves and coat, while Will pushes in his chair and watches her flit about the room. He heads for the door, but a hand on his elbow stops him. “Wait.” He turns and finds himself nearly nose to nose with Grell. Her head is tilted up to face him and her smile is bright.
Fingers on his chest draw Will’s gaze down and away from Grell’s face. She nimbly tucks one of the hearts she has so carefully folded into his breast pocket and gives it a little pat. “They have those blueberry crepes you love,” she says sweetly, reminding him.
Will hums faintly and pulls open his office door to allow Grell out first. With a coquettish curtsy, Grell skips past William and into the hallway. He follows her out and turns to close and lock his door; she continues talking. “I think they also serve sweets. We could split a cake.”
She links her arm through his when he turns from the door. “Or,” she muses, rising on tiptoe to place her lips against his ear, “we could share something even sweeter.” She kisses his earlobe, the faintest trace of her tongue on his skin making him shiver.
His eyebrow twitches. She’s pushing it hanging off of him like this while they’re at work and she knows it. “Grell,” he warns. She sinks down off of the balls of her feet and snuggles into his side with a little ‘hmph’. He glances down at her as they begin to walk and is surprised to find her looking at him as well, a faint blush on her cheeks.
Her lips curl with a soft smile. “It was just a suggestion, pet,” she says, waving one hand flippantly.
Will nods curtly and presses the button for the elevator. He hesitates, and then softly clears his throat. Grell looks up at him curiously.
“We’ll see.” Will keeps his eyes trained ahead. “Perhaps I could use something…sweeter than blueberry crepes.”
Grell flushes, her mouth splitting with a grin. She reaches across him to adjust the paper heart peeking out of his breast pocket. “Perhaps indeed,” she murmurs.