A/N: *Looks up from piles of revision notes* That one shot I mentioned in Boundaries? I wrote it. Here it is! It's one-sided RonaldxWilliam, with references to WillxGrell. It's a sister fic to Boundaries, set before and after the plot but after Problematic. Ack, old fans of those two stories; you'll understand when you read it. I liked writing from a Ronald POV; however, I feel the need to note that the beginning of this is looking back on the events, and then the Alley/Tavern scene is the present.

Anywho, enjoy! I wrote this rather quickly, so if it's terrible please tell me!

No one had ever been immune to his smile.

He could reel in men and women alike with the flash of his pearly whites and a wink of his eye, no matter the age, profession, or species. The human's were always the easiest to flirt with; flings here and there with the bored wife of a man he was sent to kill, or even vice versa, no one was immune. He considered his charms to be brilliant, amazing and effective.

And then William T. Spears was transferred from the Northern England Branch to replace the head of his division.

He'd tried and failed; he could admit that much, yes. He'd tossed a smile and a comment, and all he'd received in return was a very blunt and sharp look that told him everything the man could not say aloud; back off.

It hadn't stopped his attempts.

It started as a gamble; an attempt to try and reel the man in only to make sure his charms weren't failing him. He'd almost succeeded, too. Ronald had tried his hardest to impress the man, doing his jobs quickly and efficiently without a single flaw. He climbed the ladder of favourites until he'd become one of the most trusted workers of the man he could not attract.

Quick greetings in the corridors became conversations in the lounge area; conversation's turning into debates and the occasional venture to the nearest coffee shop. But no matter how hard he'd tried, there'd always been a glimpse of something else that had taken him nearly a year to place.

Every flirtatious comment he directed at William, he'd finally realised, had resulted in a small and barely visible flinch from the darker haired Shinigami. Ronald's comments were reminding William of something else, something that the man would never speak a word of. His cold superior remained only that, never divulging any personal information other than bare morsels of what could be spared.

It was then that Ronald Knox realised that every time he flashed a smile to his superior, William was trying to see someone else standing before him.

That had hurt, and with the pain from that realisation came the pain of another epiphany. His time with William and the hours of conversation that amounted had eventually turned from more than a challenging game to reel him in into an actual attempt to get the man to feel for him. Ronald was falling, and falling fast.

The revelation had had him stunned, and he had given off such a mindless aura on that day, that William had sent him home.

Ronald hadn't acted directly on it; oh no, he knew immediately that if he tried to spring a relationship on his superior, he'd be greeted with the unusual scythe at his throat and his memories playing out before him. Especially if the strange looks didn't stop.

Finally, somewhere in between Ronald's quick dates and secret flings every now and then with a secretary, the strange looks had stopped, and not even Ronald could keep the goofy grin off of his face when he managed to make William give a small upwards twitch of his lips during one of their conversations on that same day.

And finally, finally Ronald felt ready to make a move.

That day was the day that the redhead arrived.

He'd been the one to sign the transfer form of the redhead from the Greek Branch to the London branch a week before, as William's glasses had broken. He'd not even read the name out loud before William had shouted at him to sign it and move onto the next form. When William had left to see the Director a week later, he'd come back stiffer than ever with the redhead trailing behind him. That had been the day that changed everything.

Leaning his head against the wall of an alley in the cold midnight sky, Ronald hugged himself and thought back to the rest of the events that had shattered his own dreams.

He'd been eager to please William, he recalled, and when he'd been told to lead Grell Sutcliff around the building for the rest of the tour, he'd readily agreed.

That had been when the redhead had told him everything about his past with William. It had been easy to get the information from Grell, who had only wanted to talk about himself and had flirted endlessly with every male Shinigami that passed.

Ronald figured he could have honestly gotten along well with Grell if he hadn't found out that Grell still possessed feelings for the very same man who he was trying to get into a relationship with.

The looks returned.

All around him, romance was blossoming with almost all the members he knew, whilst the object of his own affections was being reined in by the cunning redhead. Alan and Eric had been the first ones who had slyly moved from the friendship to lover's category, and although no change could really be seen in their relationship on the outside, it still made him squirm in envy that they had each other to return home to. William had Grell –even though he may not have particularly liked the redhead at the time- and yet he had no one. The Shinigami who he had been ordered to bunk houses with had died a few years previously, because of a demon attack, and the house-for-two was always empty and quiet nowadays.

Which was precisely why Ronald was standing in an alley, reminiscing on such silly things instead of going home to entertain a girl or wallow in his own misery.

Eventually, all looks –strange or average- from William stopped together, and intentional or no, it stung like a slap to the face.

Slaps to the face were something he was familiar with; he'd gotten them a lot recently from some of the girls he had dated; their names were never remembered during 'late night activities', and they'd never been too impressed with him when it was a man's name he had occasionally murmured in the heat of the moment.

Ronald had been laughing in the lounge when the newest set of rumours had circulated. Eric had offered him a cigarette, and the two were making small jokes on Alan's preference to read rather than join in on their mindless gossip. There had been a mention of William, and Eric mentioned that he'd caught sight of a rather interesting scene outside his and Grell's home.

The tired Grell that had limped past had only confirmed the rumour.

He'd left quickly when he'd had the chance to after he'd gotten into an argument with Alan, of all people, and now he had no idea where he really was. All he felt was guilt at arguing with Alan over something too trivial to even remember, and anger at storming out of the place so quickly. It was quickly being replaced with misery.

"Y'know, kid, I never figured you the type for moping." The voice that split through the darkness and silence of the alley startled him, and his senses immediately went onto high alert before he caught sight of Eric sitting lazily on a rooftop and looking down at him.

"I'm not moping."

"Sure you ain't." Eric stood up, straightening his jacket before he jumped down and landed next to Ronald. "I don't even need to guess to know what's eating you. I'll tell you, though, you work the 'kicked puppy' look well."

"I'm fine." Ronald shot him an entirely fake grin, giving a small two fingered salute as he did so. Eric scoffed.

"Nah, you're not. Love hurts, you need to learn that. Here's an example. Go to my home, seduce Alan in the way you manage to seduce most women, and get him to sleep with you." Eric was blunt, lighting a cigarette and putting it to his lips as he watched Ronald's face go from surprised, to confused, to outright suspicious. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, eyes on Eric.

"No."

"And why won't you do it? I've given you permission; go on, go teach the lad a few things." Eric had to do all he could to keep himself from laughing at the look on Ronald's face.

"I won't do it because Alan would never agree to it. Alan is yours- I mean, he loves you, doesn't he? Or is your relationship purely spiritual?" Ronald asked with a small smirk on his face, refusing a cigarette offered to him and watching as Eric blew out a circle of smoke.

"None of your business. My point is, you can't have what isn't yours. And kid, I hate to break it to you, but that tight arse you're so hung up on belonged to somebody else long before you were even reborn." Eric took a long drag of his cigarette and then threw it on the floor, half used. Ronald took the liberty of stamping it out for him.

"I'm not 'hung up.' I'm not one for that sort of commitment."

"Aye, but you were prepared to become the type to commit. Besides, do you really want someone who has been involved with Grell?" Eric asked, leaning against a wall and looking down at Ronald. Ronald shook his head grimly. "Exactly. Now come with me." Eric made the younger Shinigami follow him to the nearest tavern. The younger followed reluctantly, not in the mood at all for what he suspected Eric to be trying to get him to do.

"I'm not interested, for tonight."

"You don't have to sleep with some human girl. Or man. Have fun, go drown your sorrows and knock yourself out." And, without warning, Eric opened the creaky wooden door and grabbed the scruff of Ronald's shirt. Music leaked out onto the street, loud and upbeat despite the early hour. Eric threw him inside and blocked the doorway. "But don't be late tomorrow!" There was a wink, and Eric turned to leave before Ronald called him back.

"Hey, Eric!"

"Yeah?" Eric titled his head to the side, looking back at Ronald with a raised eyebrow. He was met with a wicked, half-false grin from Ronald.

"Why don't you try teaching Alan some things yourself, hmm? I'm certain he wouldn't be averse to such activities, the way you two act around each other lately!" His tone implied that he knew the total intimacies of his relationship with Alan, and he had to wonder just how Ronald –or Grell- managed to weasel it out of Alan.

"Get going, Kid, before I knock you out myself!" Ronald gave a small laugh, disappearing through a crowd of drunks towards the bar. Eric left the tavern, shaking his head with a grin. He'd have to turn the rumours about himself and Alan into realities, he mused. It was long overdue, after all.

Ronald pushed his way through to the bar, stopping at a stool and swinging himself onto it. He refused to allow his misery to surface and, flashing a grin to the attractive barmaid, he ordered. She gave a giggle, and Ronald settled onto the stool with determination to get severely drunk on his mind.

Because, after all, no one was immune to his smile.