Gunshots, shouts, and hurried footsteps rend the still air. Grell, dozing on the roof of a factory, groans and sits up. "Ugh...why can't these humans let me rest in peace? It's not my fault I'm a light sleeper," he complains, rubbing his head. "Oh my God my hair must look disastrous – "
"Pardon me," a quick, silky voice interrupts. Something dark sails overhead, barely grazing his red hair.
"Hey! That's no way to treat a lady," Grell whines, scrambling to his feet. "When I don't get my beauty sleep I tend to be cranky!" He fixes his yellow-green eyes on the retreating black shape and runs after it, nimbly leaping across rooftops and chimneys in pursuit.
"My sincerest apologies," the voice replies with just a touch of sarcasm, "but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry." The man stops, turning to smirk at Grell.
Grell halts and stares at the man, trying to get a good look at him in the last lights of dusk. He sees a tall man with pale skin and dark hair, smartly dressed in a black suit. Strangest of all, he's carrying a child in his arms. I know you, Grell thinks excitedly. "You look awfully familiar," he calls flirtatiously. "Want to go out for a drink?"
"I can't right now," the man calls back. "Maybe another time."
"Sebastian!" the child shouts. "Stop flirting, we don't have much time!"
"Quite right, my lord," Sebastian answers. He leans back and simply falls off the side of the building.
"Sebas-chan!" Grell squeals. "Come back!" He crosses the remaining roofs and leaps to the ground. He looks around, noting that he's in a dark, narrow alley. How romantic.
Unfortunately, Sebastian is rather busy. A bunch of thieves are firing their petty little guns, running around and shouting. Sebastian easily dodges their bullets, throwing dinner knives like darts. The child, Ceil Phantomhive, is nowhere in sight.
"Leave my Sebas-chan alone!" Grell cries shrilly, leaping straight into the ruckus, swinging his chainsaw and slicing a few men in half. Sebastian's knives take care of the rest. In just a few moments, the alleyway is quiet, and Grell sets to work.
As a Shinigami, it's Grell's responsibility to record the bandits' deaths in his black-and-red book, observe their cinematic records, to reap their souls and send them on. This only takes a few minutes, as the men aren't anyone of great importance.
Grell straightens up and turns around. The young Earl has emerged from wherever he was hiding and is staring balefully at Grell, who strides past him towards his loyal butler. "Well, Sebas-chan, we certainly make a great team," he trills, batting his eyes.
"I thank you for your assistance, Grell, but I can assure you it was unnecessary."
"Sebastian," Ciel cuts in impatiently.
"Yes, my lord." Sebastian goes over to the thieves' bodies, rummaging through their jackets while Grell gives Ciel a lecture on the impoliteness of interrupting a lady while she's talking.
"Here it is, my lord." Sebastian is holding a small, plain-looking brown chest.
Grell neither knows nor cares what's in the little box or why the bandits wanted it. "Seb– " he begins to say.
"Good. Now take me back to the manor, Sebastian," Ciel orders, ignoring Grell.
"Of course." Sebastian hands the box to his young master, who tucks it into his jacket. He picks up Ciel and, without so much as a nod to Grell, leaps away.
Grell heaves a sigh as he watches the dark form of Sebastian vanish over the rooftops. He wanders down the twilit road, lost in thought, wondering why Sebastian doesn't reciprocate the feelings Grell has for him. I just don't understand...I try to be nice to him...do I come on too strong? Is that it? Is he a man who needs his space?
He pauses by a dimly lit building and looks at his reflection in the glass window, studying his pale face, shark-like teeth, and shocking red hair. Yellow-green eyes look out worriedly behind stylish red glasses. Grell bites his lip, wondering if maybe he isn't as beautiful as he had always thought.
Suddenly, Grell realizes that his reflection seems different, distorted somehow. It takes him a minute to realize that someone on the other side of the window is staring out at him. Grell jumps in surprise as an eerie grin spreads across the figure's face. And what a strange face it was, shrouded in shadows thrown by the brim of a large, crooked black top hat, with a lock of silver hair that covers the eyes but doesn't quite hide a long, jagged scar.