A/N: Meh. I am sorry for deserting you guys. Really, I am. The world just kinda… stole my attention for a long time. I'm alsotrying to work on Ivy, but there's a stupid thing called writer's block. :) So, yeah. Sorry. Anyway, please enjoy! Oh, and one more thing: this fanfiction is a birthday present for my dear friend/editor FireDragon1019! She's the one who helped me write Iris and is currently helping me write a sequel to that. That one takes place after Death Note. So, yeah, depressing. Anyway, enjoy!

The wind whistled through the trees lining the eerie path leading up to the mansion. It was, of course, a very well-kept path, but it was eerie all the same. The mansion had some of this eeriness as well, per usual (eerie path= eerie mansion), but was brightly lit and surrounded by a lawn before the forest took over, so was therefore much more welcoming.

Through the lawn ran a little creek, which contained exactly three waterfalls, two tiny pools, and one pond filled with koi fish. The creek came from the woods and entered the woods again, showing that it was not man-made, but the owner of this mansion, which was, by the way, in Great Britain (Wales to be specific), was gracious enough to let the wild thing be and only added on a pond to make it seem intentional.

The creek being situated on the left side of the path, the right side would've been quite empty if not for the brilliant gardens filled with flowering trees and perennial flowers, with stone paths winding throughout. There were, in the summer, several picnic tables situated in various points though the gardens (and one by the koi pond as well), but as it was winter the gardens were rather bleak and the creek was frozen over.

Now, most of the time when there are eerie paths winding up to slightly eerie mansions during the wintertime, it is usually night, and therefore dark, and the mansion would haunted by either ghosts or wild beasts with tragic pasts, especially if it is in Europe. However, this mansion was not haunted by ghosts or beasts or anything that could come from Earth (besides the lady and her lower servants), and it was daytime and quite cheery outside, considering the strong gusts of wind, the dead-looking garden, and the eerie path. It did contain one demon, though.

The tall, brunette, red-eyed, pale demon's name was Threlinadoré (th as in th, re as in ray, lin as in win with an l, ador as in adore, and é as in eh), but as she considered the entire thing quite annoying to say in casual conversation, she went by Threlin. The shorter, dirty-blond, green-eyed, almost-as-pale lady that she served was named Lady Fayona and came from a very prestigious family with a last name that will never be known, as the fact that she has a demon would entirely ruin her reputation. She was scared without one, though, so who can blame her? It's her soul!

At this time, the demon- now let's not be rude here! Threlin- was serving her mistress breakfast when the doorbell rang. "Who is that?" Lady Fayona asked.

"I'm not sure, my Lady."

"You mean they didn't have an appointment?"

"No. Shall I go see who it is?"

"Oh very well. But hurry so I may get the rest of my lunch as quickly as possible!"

Concealing a smirk, Threlin bowed. "Yes, my Lady." In the next instant, there was no one there, and Lady Fayona was calmly eating the fruit off the platter laid before her. A minute later, Threlin returned with the rest of Lady Fayona's lunch and a letter with a letter opener on a silver platter.

"A letter? We've already gotten the mail today!"

"There was a mix-up in the postal service. They saw fit to get it to us as soon as possible instead of waiting another day."

"Fair enough. Who is it from?"

"Would you like me to read it to you as you eat?"

"Yes, yes, as always."

"To Ms. Fayona of a Most Prestigious Estate:

As President of the Harrison Company, I should like to request a meeting with you to discuss my growing business. We supply the kerosene needed to light many homes throughout Great Britain. Given our current resources, I would expect that our company would be able to produce enough kerosene to light the entire of Great Britian for a year in the next year, and perhaps soon go international, if not for one thing: money. While we have enough income to grow steadily, the rate of growth is slow and other companies, financed by other Estates, could run us out of business. This would be a shame, as anyone would be hard pressed to find or make better-quality kerosene than that which is made at our company. If it is apt timing for you, I would like to come to your Estate on January 29, at 6:30 P.M. Please reply as soon as possible. Most sincerely, Roger Harrison, President of the Harrison Company."

"Hmph. He mentioned that he was president twice."

"I believe it is correct format to put it at the end of your signature, and it is common courtesy to inform one of who is speaking at the beginning of the letter."

"Even still. He invited himself to dinner! 'I shall like to come at 6:30 P.M. and consume your finest food to fill my rumbling tummy!'" Lady Fayona grumbled. (She's 19, by the way)

"It is usual to eat something over dinner or lunch when meeting with someone else."

"Even so. He could at least let me pick a time!"

"You are open the entire day."

Lady Fayona glared at Threlin. "I don't care if I'm open, I like eating by myself!" She sighed. "Very well, put that in my schedule. That is… 17 days from now?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"I shall dread it."

"My lady, it shall greatly benefit you to back them. Especially since I will be making sure that no one gets in the way of them selling kerosene. Their kerosene is actually good quality, you know."

"Oh, I know. I didn't say I'd refuse. I just dislike meetings and such. Financial issues are so boring."

"Of course, my Lady. Forgive me." Threlin bowed.

"Oh hush. Of course I forgive you. No need to put on airs." Lady Fayona giggled. Threlin could tell she enjoyed it, though.

…

After putting her lady to bed, Threlin sighed, resigning herself to dealing with the real reason the mail came and who really delivered it. "Time to deal with the trash," she muttered.

"How rude!" A tall, dark haired, red-eyed, pale, (pattern…?) man smiled after materializing from nowhere. "And it is ever so nice to meet you again, Ms. Adore."

"Oh, Sebas-chan, what a delight! And I believe you forgot, in our dreadful years apart, that my name in Threlinadoré, not Ms. Adore."

"Oh, but you adore serving, so it's fitting."

Threlin gritted her teeth. "Yes, and you are such a cute little girl, so Sebas-chan is quite fitting for you."

Sebastian (as his real name clearly isn't Sebas) scowled, which surprised Threlin- demon verbal battles were generally full of sarcasm and too many compliments to be true. Why was he scowling? Sebas-chan loved verbal battles!

Shaking his head, Sebastian smiled sarcastically at Threlin again. "Oh, Ms. Adore, I know someone you'd love to meet!"

"Oh? Do introduce me, then," she smiled, still putting on airs.

"I'm afraid I can't," he sighed 'sadly'. "He is a shinigami, and therefore is very busy harvesting people's souls."

"Well now this is interesting," she replied, concealing the fact that she was really interested with too much interest. "How ever did you meet a shinigami?"

"A rather interesting affair involving my master. This shinigami is rather attached to us now, unfortunately."

"Oh?" Threlin smirked. "If by 'us' you mean you. He probably calls you Sebas-chan, too, doesn't he?"

Sebastian grimaced. "You're slipping into teasing, now."

She grinned, "You scowled just a minute ago. And isn't this whole thing a teasing match?"

"It's supposed to be a too-polite-to-be-true teasing match. I'd never thought that I'd have to tell you about the rules of verbal battle."

"And yet, even now, you are being hypocritical by teasing me outright."

Sebastian smiled. "Is that so, Mrs. Hypocrite?"

"I do believe it is so, Mr. Sarcasm."

Sebastian smiled even wider to conceal his frustration. Threlin smirked. You didn't think I'd fall for that my calling you Mr. Hypocrite, did you? That'd imply that I was implying that we were married, or that I'd wish to be. As if I'd go there again!

After a moment, Threlin spoke up again. "No retort?"

"Well, I was curious as to how you got the notion that my name changed. Before, you've called me Mr. Hypocrite."

"Oh? So by calling me Mrs. Hypocrite, you are implying that we are married. I was not aware of such an arrangement."

"Well, I've called you Miss Sarcasm in the past, but you were being a hypocrite right then."

"Then why not call me Ms. Hypocrite? Then I wouldn't be married to you."

"But you would be my sister."

"Or a distant relative. So, you must be under the delusion that we are married, calling me a Mrs. when I am clearly a Ms."

"You're right, you are immature enough to be called a Miss!"

"I distinctly remember saying Ms., not Miss."

"But don't all little girls want to grow up quickly?"

"I wouldn't know; I'm not one. And aren't all little boys fortunate enough that they can call themselves men before their time?"

"But then men get called little boys. And I assure you, I am a man, in every way."

Ignoring the implications of that statement, Threlin chuckled. "Really? You'd think that I would've noticed by now if that were true."

"You've probably been too busy adoring serving."

"Is that even grammatically correct, Sebby?"

"Of course. A butler who can't us proper grammar-"

"Isn't worth his salt… right?

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Yes, of course. I do not believe 'isn't worth his salt' is a proper sentence, though."

"I was merely finishing yours."

"Interrupting me? Quite rude!"

"I was only saving you the displeasure of speaking overly much."

"And yet, you have dragged on this conversation for far too long."

"Oh? Am I keeping you? Well, please, let me show you the door."

"Ah, but I have not exacted my true purpose for coming yet! It would be rude to push me out of the house when I went to the trouble of having Mr. Harrison write you a letter and then delivering it so as to speak with you later and you have not even given me the chance to talk!"

"I'm afraid I have become rather perplexed. Why do you complain about the length of the conversation when you do not wish to leave?" Threlin dragged out the silly nonsense, quite aware of the reason he did so, but not willing to become serious yet for fear of what the conversation might entail.

""I am growing tired of this conversation, not the absolute pleasure of your company."

"Ah. Then pray tell, why have you come?" Threlin asked, bracing herself for the worst.

"My Lord, Ciel Phantomhive, wishes to become better acquaintances with your Lady. He is unaware of your status as an… exemplary… maid."

"If you mean a demon, there's really no point in concealing it."

"I suppose. Anyway, if our masters were to become 'friends', we would have to see each other more often, and I believe it would be rather difficult to appear as though we didn't know each other, much less hide the fact that I am a demon from your Lady, and that you are a demon from my Lord."
"Speak for your own acting abilities, please."

Sebastian continued unfazed. "One of our masters might inquire if or how we know each other, based on how far their calculations of our relationship go."

"And thus would begin chaos."

"Precisely."

"What do you wish me to do about it? You're the one who can't act. Also, your master is the one who wishes to know my Lady better. My Lady doesn't know who Mr. Phantomhive is, other than hearing about him in the papers as the Queen's Guard Dog."

"I wish for your Lady to die. I want you to fulfill your contract with her and then eat her soul."

Threlin raised an eyebrow. "No. Why don't you kill Ciel?"

Sebastian glared. "Do not call him by his first name… and it's a little more difficult for me to fulfill my contract then yours."

"What do you know about my contract? And besides, I am obliged to protect my Lady with my life. I cannot let her be killed without losing her soul as well."

"Then lose her soul. Surely it's better than having to explain our relationship."

"It's better for you! Why don't you lose Ciel's soul? He's the one stirring up the trouble."

"I have worked for him much longer than you have worked for Fayona. It would cost me more."

Threlin dropped the remnants of the act she was still upholding and glared at Sebastian, deadly serious. "I will not kill or allow my Lady to be killed. Don't even think of coming near her. I will kill you," she growled.

Sebastian smirked. "Oh, getting protective now, are we? Do you adore your mistress? And, besides, you can't kill a demon."

"Oh, but you'll want to die," Threlin scowled, ignoring his previous statement.

"I'm so scared. That'll keep me up at night."

"It will if you come after us, so don't even think about it."

"I've already thought about it." He smirked and dashed to the door. Threlin followed, rage filling her mind, not thinking about anything but killing that arrogant demon. They flew out of the house and into the woods surrounding it, their feet thudding on the ground, the trees a rush of green and black beside them. All of a sudden, a scary, black thought pierced Threlin's red anger. Lady Fayona… who was protecting her?

She whipped around and sprinted home, going faster than before, short on breath, her limbs screaming for a break, but not as much as the growing fear in her heart for Lady Fayona being subject to Sebastian's trickery…

Threlin threw open the door, finally relaxing as she saw Lady Fayona sleeping soundly in her bed. Unease still troubled her heart, though, so she opened the window and smiled down at the ground. Three servants (of the Phantomhive Estate, presumably), one girl and two boys, were clumsily trying to get to the second-story window. "Hello! May I help you?"

They jumped. The girl called up, "Yes! We're trying to-" Suddenly, Sebastian was there, putting a hand over her mouth.

He smiled his brightest, most sarcastic smile. "No, we're fine, thank you. Let's go home." The servants glanced at him, confused, but went home nonetheless."

Threlin straightened and closed the window. She turned around apologetically. "I'm sorry, Lady Fayona, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Oh, just some late-night visitors. I took care of them. Please go back to sleep."

"Who were they? Where did they come from?"

Threlin hesitated. "It would be best that you did not know."

Lady Fayona scowled. She raised her night-gown, revealing a circular, dark-green mark on the inside of her right ankle. "I order you to tell me who they were."

Threlin sighted. "They were from the Phantomhive Estate but came without their master's knowledge."

"Why did they come?"

"Well, the butler wished to discuss some things with me. The others came, on the butler's orders, to do harm to you while I was occupied, probably to kidnap, maybe to kill."

Lady Fayona smirked. "Silly humans think they can get through my demon. Why did they want to harm me?"

Threlin's stomach turned queasy. She answered as literally as possible. "So as to prevent a meeting between you and Ciel Phantomhive, who wishes to become better acquaintances with you."

Lady Fayona frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. "But why would they want to go against their master's orders?" she asked.

Threlin was about to (reluctantly) answer when she realized it was a rhetorical question. Lady Fayona didn't expect her to know.

"Anyway, I wish for you to schedule a meeting between us. The matter is of utmost importance. Earl Phantomhive should know of the disobedience of his servants."

"My Lady, may I be so presumptuous as to give you some advice?"

Lady Fayona gestured for her to continue.

"Perhaps you shouldn't mention this. We have no proof that they were here and it may sound like a threat to the Phantomhive Estate.

"Well, I do wish to meet him, at least. Could you come up with a reason for us to see them?"

"That is unnecessary, my Lady. Earl Phantomhive wishes to meet with you anyway. You should just wait for his invitation."

Lady Fayona pouted. "I hate waiting… very well. Prepare me a good breakfast tomorrow- I am not in a good mood now and am unlikely to be in the morning."

Threlin bowed. "Yes, my Lady."

…

Today, when Sebastian came and ordered me to kill my master, I thought briefly of several ways to do it. I could, without damaging the contract, kill Lady Fayona and eat her soul. She was stupid for making her contract so unspecific. And yet… when Sebastian ordered me to kill her, I refused. Was it in order to spite him, to show him that I would no longer follow his orders? That must be the reason, yet somehow I can't believe it. However, there can't have been any other reason. No other plausible explanation exists. I am a demon and would be quite glad to eat her soul. So why did I feel so strongly against it? I shudder to think of Lady Fayona discovering even that Sebastian is a demon. His reason made enough sense! I guess I was simply afraid of returning to Those Days.