Ghost in the Machine (Undertaker x Female Reader)

Interlude in an employee lounge.

Grell trudged into the break room at headquarters where Dispatch usually spent their time between outings, and flopped down at one of the scratched wooden tables with a dramatic sigh. "I'm exhausted. No—" she amended, planting her face onto the tabletop. "I'm dying, I'm so tired."

The diminutive reaper sitting across from her looked up from his book, tilting his headful of juniper-green hair at her, quizzically. "Grell, I hate to tell you this, but—"

"Othello, shut up." Grell looked up from the table, gnashing her fangs. "It's a figure of speech, and I've been all over London taking care of business, and William wouldn't let me take a break because it's cholera season, and, and..." She stood up to stalk over to the ice box, opening it to peer in, hopefully. She scowled, slamming it shut and returning to her seat, folding her arms with a huff. "—someone ate the last chocolate ice cream cup and there's only the weird green ones left."

"Oh..." Othello smiled thinly, pushing his round spectacles higher on his nose and tapping a finger next to a now-empty paper cup on the table. "That was me."

"Honestly!" Grell snatched up the spoon sitting with the cup and made to throw it at Othello's head, before stopping mid-rage. "Wait, why are you here? Go back to Forensics with the other nerds!"

Othello frowned, smoothing the lapels of his lab coat, his shoulders stiff. "My department is the reason we can store ice cream here, you know," he replied, defensively. "Besides, I was contacted by the Higher-Ups about something and I wanted to catch William to discuss it."

"Discuss what?" Grell lowered the vengeful spoon, her interest piqued. "What could you have to talk to my William about?!"

"Nothing you need to worry about just yet." Othello closed his book and stood, taking the cup to throw it in the trash. "I suppose if you're back, your superior has returned to his office as well?"

Grell shrugged, sulking and stabbing at the table with the spoon. "Must be something dull and nerdy, then."

Othello chuckled, his book under his arm and hands in his coat pockets. Grell missed the glint of mischief that flickered behind his eyes then, a glimmer over the shining yellow-green irises they shared. "...I hear we're supposed to have a pretty strong addition over in Lists?"

Grell groaned and buried her face in her arms on the table. "That woman," she spat. "If things hadn't picked up lately, we'd have more time to go after her. William and I were supposed to collect her, but that damned turncoat bastard somehow got to her first!"

Othello raised an eyebrow. "Turncoat?"

"That ghastly deserter of a reaper that styles himself as an undertaker. You know, the one who reanimated all those dead humans and got the Campania sunk." She rubbed her temples in irritation at the memory. "Ugh, that was such a mess to clean up."

"Hmm, I see." Othello pursed his lips, suddenly deep in thought. He checked himself then, turning on his heel to head out the door. "Well, take it easy, then, Grell; don't work too hard!" He waved languidly over his shoulder, ignoring Grell's hurled insults as he strolled into the hallway.

The gears in Othello's mind, however, had begun to turn. Surely not, he thought to himself, navigating the maze of passages towards William's office. It couldn't be him.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

And on we go. I've had a bit too much Life coming at me lately, so I'm a little behind on writing. However, the story is definitely continuing!
A note on Grell's cholera comment: the disease was rampant in urban areas, especially in the poorer neighborhoods. Deaths (especially in children) spiked when the temperature rose, since poor drainage and disposal of waste affected the water supply. This problem was persistent throughout the age, until better plumbing and awareness of how the disease spread improved conditions.

Stay tuned! I'll be working at the next larger chunk of the story this week, barring any other distracting Real Life-brand annoyances.