A/N: Just a short little one shot I got the idea for while browsing a costume store. I thought to myself "what if Undertaker was married all this time?" Thus, this was spawned. Enjoy my Undertaker friends and guests.
"Oooh, how nice I will make you look!" The grim reaper bellowed in his shop, enjoying his work as any other day would surpass him for the rest of eternity. New guests were in and out the doors these days due to a rampant disease only the human species would catch.
How exciting! Corpses left and right, needing a good fitting for a coffin, a good price, and plenty of the living souls willing to pay. Not that he necessarily needed nor wanted the money given to him. After all, this was only his hobby.
A day as any other, only with a few more customers than per usual, looking for the best deals. No longer could Undertaker possess a To Die list, but he suspected the Reaper Dispatch Association was having quite the field day. William T. Spears would surely have his work cut out for him, again and again. This work literally never ended.
Within the depths of Undertaker's back room lay a coffin, specially laid out with care and dignity. This was not his own personal coffin, no; it meant more to him than just a place to sleep. The coffin lay, untouched by the sun's rays, a charcoal black with white and red roses painted on the lid. Inside lay something even more astounding. Or rather, someone. This was not a guest of Undertaker's, it was his entire life before he had even been scheduled to reap.
Vivian E. Addams was the inscription upon the side of the coffin, carved to present itself like a silver signature. That was Undertaker's personal touch. The lid slowly came back until it hinged off its side. The pale hand extended to the rims and the cracking of soft bones echoed lightly in the room. Vivian had slept a great deal in her death, having been an insomniac in her lifetime.
Addams had been her maiden name, and she had never become a dispatch for the association. Instead, she had spent her time in the secretarial offices, taking calls, filing, and answering to the managers' requests left and right. Her work had not taken away from her personality, and her first meeting with Undertaker had surely been no accident.
Yawning, Vivian delicately rose herself, placing the lid back onto the coffin, proceeding to do her hair in the corner mirror. Her hair was her favorite part on her entire body, both in living and in her death. The gray was just beginning to come in, for the natural black color had been stubborn to replace. The tips of her hair and the roots were turning white, not that she paid too much mind. Now, like Undertaker, she had retired from the association, having more than enough of her share. It was because she'd met Undertaker and their relationship that she was even allowed to retire in the first place.
Tonight, Vivian decided to plan a special surprise. Underneath a grim reaper's suit and tie, there was always a portion of man left inside, and she knew exactly how to extract that man from within. In death, both of them found each other most active and involved with their work, and with no work left to be done, all that was left was each other.
For a brief moment, she fondled with the ring on her left ring finger, admiring the beautiful onyx and the diamond shape as it sat neatly upon her boney finger. Her skin was pale as snow, as most grim reapers' had become, but her heart was actively engaged. She could hear and feel its thumping as she changed herself into her best little black dress. The one that revealed the most upon her chest and slender legs as she walked barefoot around the shop.
Most people did not know of Vivian's coffin or Vivian herself. The woman usually only appeared in times of great bustle around the front of the shop. Otherwise, she preferred a much quieter life, even at the expense of knowing that a grim reaper was nearly forever tied to his work. Undertaker certainly was devoted, and he'd even gone a little crazy after retirement with nearly not as much work to do.
Both of their minds were equally as insane, and their fascinations with death only grew with every guest Undertaker took in. Vivian made up the dyes to accentuate the bodies with and she even gathered up the herbs to create a pleasant smell in the shop when people walked in.
With the black dress on, hanging loose from her left shoulder to expose just enough of the scare Undertaker himself had caused, Vivian laced up the best pair of black boots she owned, combed out her hair once more and laid it gently to cover her breasts upon the dress. Surely this would be enough.
Smirking at herself in the mirror, Vivian winked at herself, turned, and walked away from her morning routine, her boots making a rather quiet sound, making sure Undertaker was wrapped in his work this fine afternoon. Slowly, she peaked from behind the black curtain.
Sure enough, there he was, preparing the corpse for burial, but Vivian had something else in mind. Sighing, she dramatically pulled back the curtain.
"What a lovely evening dearest," she spoke, but of course, Undertaker did not deter from his focus.
"That it is indeed," he replied. "You're out of bed I see. Feeling all right?"
"I feel more than fine," she said, leaning her back against the wall. Purposely, she'd left the top four buttons of this dress undone, feeling like an absolute witch, but there was no one else in the shop...and she loved it.
"I'm just about done, perhaps later we could-" Undertaker had broken his own sentence the moment his body turned to look at Vivian for the first time tonight. The near-sightedness of a reaper was easily compensated for with the use of a dimmed pair of spectacles, mostly used for reading. Undertaker came to own a black pair for himself during busy work days like these, but this time, he wasn't looking at just anybody.
Innocently, Vivian smirked at him, knowing he could fully see what she was wearing and he probably was not expecting this of her tonight. For a second, Undertaker looked to the corpse, then back to Vivian, whose legs had just come into view as she stepped out from behind the countertop.
"Well now, what is this?" he asked, newly focused upon the way her hair was sitting upon her bare left shoulder. His body had straightened its position.
"I'm just feeling it tonight," she said simply. "Surely you... won't leave me alone like this. Will you?"
Undertaker looked back at the corpse and again to his wife, leaning to the corpse.
"You can wait," he said to it, walking over to the shop's front door to latch the lock and place the closing sign up for the evening. Vivian smiled as he turned towards her after bolting the latch, and taking his hand, he pushed back his bangs, revealing his most gorgeous green eyes.
The lady made her way into the back room, waiting upon the black bed nearly no one slept in. The black bedding made it look so much more lovely, and with the pink trims she'd added to it, the room was nearly perfect. Undertaker pulled back the curtain, closing it fully behind him, seeing her lying there, and her hair was in just the right spot.
"My my my, you certainly know how to capture attention," he commented, walking over to the bed. Lying down next to her, she removed his hat and necklaces, setting her hands to rest upon his back without saying much of anything.
"Now now, the only attention I want tonight it yours," she pretended to whine as she began kissing upon his neck. A laugh came from the back of Undertaker's throat as he grasped her harshly, eagerly, and hungering for her now.
"And you shall have it. All of it, my dear," he promised, reaching his hand through the open fabric from her left shoulder. "It's not often I catch you like this."
Vivian kissed him fiercely, mostly just to make him shut the hell up. Brushing the hair from her shoulder, Undertaker gently began to unfasten Vivian's little black dress he loved so much.
"So much fun, so much fun indeed."