A/N: Written for a prompt over at LiveJournal where someone wanted unrequited William/Grell. Set right after William saved Grell from Sebastian. And yes, I refer to Grell as a woman, since Word of God stated that she is one.
Warnings: mostly worksafe.
Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji is the intellectual property of Toboso Yana and all associated companies. No profit is being made from this and no copyright infringement intended with this fan-made piece of fiction. Please support the mangaka by buying her works.
Perhaps, Grell thought, it wasn't smart. Definitely wasn't, she decided when her back hit the wall and she bumped her head hard enough to see stars. But damn it, she couldn't help herself. (Well, no. She could. But where would the fun in that be?) William loosing all his diligence and calmness was a rare sight to behold. He never showed his anger with actions, never fumed in white-hot rage. Or at least that's what his stony expression wanted everyone to believe. It had taken time, even for Grell, to make the stoic shinigami show any kind of emotion. Which he never did willingly.
Right now, Grell mused with overwhelming glee, it was finally happening. She decided that Sebaschan also deserved a teeny tiny courtesy nod for his effort, but that was entirely secondary. And thus, while William filled in whatever reports (possibly Grell's too, but the redhead didn't care right now), Grell picked herself up from the floor (this was so him, she reckoned – deliver a punch and then get back to paperwork like nothing ever happened), brought her clothes in order, rand a hand through her hair, and decided to get some benefit out of this situation.
"I believe," Grell announced, propping herself on the edge of the table, one leg swinging freely and kicking the leg of William's chair every now and then, "that you need to express them more freely."
"What?" William asked in a flat voice, not really interested in the answer. He frowned at the arrhythmic beat and, successively, glowered at the offending thigh in the line of his vision. "Get off my table."
Grell bared her shark-teeth in a broad grin. "Your unrequited feelings. And I'm not getting off on your table."
"Not yet," she added as an afterthought.
"Get out," William said warningly, reaching for another document.
"I can't," Grell retorted, making him frown. She was very much enjoying herself right now. Perhaps a bit too much. "Not without foreplay."
The fury flashing through William's eyes, the sharp intake of breath, and – could it be? – the light flush on his cheeks served to amuse her even further. If she weren't trying to keep up a façade, she would have been madly cackling right now. For the time being, a manic grin had to do.
Until William's scythe went straight for her neck (just how the hell could he wield that thing at such short distances?) and she had to dodge. Grell did it so awkwardly that she tumbled off the table and added several more light injuries to whatever Sebastian and William had managed previously. And William's scythe was already following her.
The most annoying thing in all of this, Grell decided afterwards, – and that was not counting the ruined coat – was that William didn't even have to get up from his chair to chase her around.