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"God damn it, not again." Ronald Knox mumbled as he woke up in yet another field. This is the third time this week! "The boss is gonna kill me."
The reaper quickly dusted off his pants and looked around him. Almost every day this week, the Shinigami had teleported in his sleep. This wasn't just annoying, but dangerous too. What if he ported into a road next time? He did not fancy being hit by a carriage any time soon. Granted, it wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt like a bitch.
He had yet to tell any of his colleagues about his... predicament. He was fresh out of the academy and barely knew anyone. He didn't want to come off as weak or stupid in his first few weeks.
Maybe his sleep-porting had something to do with the alcohol he consumed every night? Nah... that's not it. He'd begun to make friends with a reaper named Eric Slingby and he was a fair drinker but he hadn't heard of him sleep-porting.
Something's definitely wrong...
He looked around the field he was in. He was not used to porting anywhere (well, consciously at least) so he tried to picture his apartment, the Dispatch, anywhere he knew. God damn it! Why isn't it working? Am I glitching or something?! He thought angrily to himself.
With a frustrated huff, he kicked the dirt beneath his feet and began to walk in a random direction. He could be anywhere, it could take all day to find anyone who could help him.
Maybe I might bump into another Shinigami on collections? They could help me.
With a new lease of determination, he quickened his pace.
It had been about an hour since he had begun walking and he had about another hour until his shift started. He shivered, imagining William's cold stare and irritated facial expression if he arrived late... again.
It was strange, his boss terrified him, but at the same time, he made him positively weak at the knees. Sure, William was attractive, but he would have no business with a subordinate, even less a new graduate!
Ron sighed. "Je vais mourir ici." He muttered, accepting his fate.
~*~
"Hey, Grell!" A familiar Scottish twang called from one end of the offices.
"What is it, darling?" The red head asked.
"Have ye seen Ron around?" Questioned Eric. "His shift starts in five minutes."
"How am I supposed to know where he is?" She snapped. "I'm his mentor, not his babysitter. If he's not here, that's his problem."
Eric sighed. "Somethin's definitely wrong with 'im. He comes in lookin' all dazed like he's not had enough sleep. Keep an eye on the kid, yeah?"
"Alright, alright!" Relented Grell. "I'll keep an eye on him. But you should know I don't play nice with others." She winked.
"Tell me somethin' I dinnae ken." He smirked. Grell looked blankly at him. "Ah, nevermind. Just do yer reapin' before the boss has yer head."
"Aggnn~ No! My William would never do that to me! But alas, I have a soul to collect! Parting is such sweet sorrow." She whispered, staring at Will's office door.
"See ya, Red." Eric called.
~*~
A gate. A gate! Finally! Ronald ran towards it, glad to be finally out of the field, only to find himself surrounded by foliage.
Shit... what do I do now?!
He knew he would never be able to escape the shrubbery at this rate. He decided he'd try to port again. Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll port somewhere else? Somewhere I know? No... bad idea.
He pictured his apartment again, willing himself to port there. With a flash, he found himself out of the dense trees and into... Oh shit, am I in Buckingham Palace?!