The Shinigami Nursery 2 (Sequel)

Chapter 2 - Teddy

"RONNIE?!"

The man with the bi-coloured hair glanced over. A look of confusion appeared before it melted into recognition and aversion. Undertaker tried not to let the hurt show on his face - Ronald didn't like him. His own son wasn't happy to see him. To the young reaper he was nothing more than a creepy old man. "Hey, Undertaker right? You're the one Sutcliff-sempai talks about. What in blazes are you doin' here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Undertaker muttered to himself. "You don't have a kid," this was true. He had been keeping tabs on his children without their knowledge so he could know what they were up to. Apparently he hadn't been watching closely enough.

"Ronald here is my boyfriend," Eric smiled, wrapping his arm around the smaller man. Undertaker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval. True, there was no kinder reaper than Eric, but ten drunk and disorderly charges in the past three years, including one criminal conviction put him on the list of people Undertaker had to watch out for. The old reaper nodded before bending down and enveloping his son Alan into a hug.

"Did you miss me huh?" Undertaker giggled as the child sat in his shoulders, his hands in the grey hair.

"Yeth Uncwe Undie!" Alan sang, before getting distracted by tugging on his father's piercings. Undertaker glanced back to Ronald for a second, a look of bemusement and longing before he started babbling with his son about something irrelevant. Once he was safely out of earshot, Ronald turned to Eric.

"Who'd let a guy like him adopt a child?" Ronald scoffed. Eric smirked.

"He's actually a very good father from what I hear. And he has experience too, we were drunk one night when I was still at the academy and he told me he adopted three toddlers a couple hundred years ago. They got thrown in child services though. He never sad why," Eric mused to himself.

"I have a few theories," Ronald muttered under his breath, yet he couldn't shake this nagging feeling that something was significant about Undertaker having adopted children before. Especially the phrase 'three toddlers'. Of course toddler could mean any age from one until five, but the young Dispatch officer couldn't get the idea out his head. The little voice that said to him You. Grell. William were the only three reapers born in the space of one year. True, the timing would fit too. A couple of hundred years ago. But that was crazy, right?

He decided he'd go ask the eldest of the three, William T. Spears.

Ronald walked in in William and Grell in he middle of a childish debate, neither man aware of the textual tension sparking between them. Ronald chuckled slightly as he thought about how right the two reapers were for each other. The most amusing part was that neither one of them knew it. Ronald sat watching them, giggling at the remarks for a few minutes - honestly, those two could be wonderfully creative with their insults when they wanted to be - before he realised that while the free theatre was fun, the melodrama wasn't so amusing that it beat snuggling on the couch with Eric. So the man cleared his threat. "Ahem, Sutcliff-sempai," he spoke with so much fake confidence.

The two men jumped, neither realising he was there. William quickly masked his surprise with a sneer. "Knox," he stated simply. William didn't much like Ronald, but he knew the younger reaper was afraid of him, so Ronald would have known not to interrupt them unless me had a valid reason, which William was prepared to listen to. Ronald cleared his throat.

"Mr Spears, you're a manage class reaper. Did you know that Undertaker guy had three kids once upon a time?" Ronald asked in slight skepticism. Grell looked oddly fascinated.

"Yes, I did know that," William sad in his cool voice. Except his emotionless mask cracked a little, and he showed a very awkward discomfort. He clearly didn't like the question.

"He did?! Who was it?" Grell asked in surprise. Not that that was unusual; Grell was always so effervescent, always being surprised by something or other. It grew annoying as he years went on. William froze though, hesitating before his evasion of the question he knew he wouldn't be able to evade forever.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you," William snapped, still trying to keep a level voice. "Both of you, stop asking me about your past!"

Heavy silence hung in the air. Silent and deadly, seeping out from the source and filling the room with heavy poison. Clean. Yet about to get so much more messy.

"Our...pasts?" Grell asked, shock evident on his face, eyes like saucers.

"The past," William contradicted. "I merely misspoke,"

"You don't miss-speak," Grell accused, walking forward confidently, making William cough into his hand. They stood like that for a long time, Grell's eyes boring into William's. Both kept their mouths tightly closed, neither willing to give in first. Ronald just looked on in confusion and slight suspicion. He still knew how good a couple they'd make. And he still didn't know why they were denying it. Eventually Grell tore his eyes away.

"Come on Ronald, let's go," Grell decided with conviction, stalking off out the office.

"Er...where are we going?"

"The funeral parlour,"