Give the obscure GreyLizzy ship a chance. :) You never know, maybe I'll convert more of you to the dark side.

Dedicated to my fellow dorks/GreyLizzy/cielizzy shippers on tumblr ^^

Crossposted on Ao3.

As soon as the door opens, it nearly slams closed again. "Oh, hell no."

"Earl Grey, how charming of you."

"I don't know what kind of hell you've crawled out of this time, Phantomhive, but I should very much be clawing your eyes out right now," states an older, obviously more mature Charles Grey. He stands before the door like a guard, his gaze confident and voice steady. Earl Grey looks the same as he had appeared years ago, back when Ciel had been a teenager. Had it not been for the man's deepened voice and wary tone, Ciel might have imagined he had stepped back into the past.

"And why aren't you?" Ciel returns saccharinely, twirling his obsidian ring idly while steadfastly ignoring the silver ring adorning the man's ring finger. He smirks, his eyes jaded and teeth sharp. "Could it be that one of the famed Double Charles has lost his bite after marriage?"

Earl Grey gives him a long, hard stare for several seconds with an intensity that would have shaken lesser men. But alas, Ciel has moved past such trivial matters: anger, jealousy, even embarrassment — all of those poisonous emotions had receded after his death.

Ciel has found peace in death that he never quite found in life.

Finally, after searching Ciel's eyes for something, Earl Grey curses under his breath, "...fucking Phantomhives…" he, sighs, not exactly sounding exasperated nor angry. It's almost as if the earl had been expecting Ciel, as unlikely as it was. Earl Grey opens the door completely, a scowl on his face. "Come in."

Not willing to test his luck, Ciel shuffles in the manor before the man can retract his offer. His eyes sweep across the house, a bout of nostalgia hitting him as he recognizes pieces of the mansion: the elegant staircase with the banister that he and his brother had slid down as children; the candles which Mey-Rin often agonized over lighting; and even the portrait of his parents. Ciel idly wonders why they haven't replaced the portrait yet, but somehow, seeing his parents' faces still honored on the wall warms his heart.

There are differences, though: telltale signs of life. The foyer has transformed into a mixture of a fencing hall and ballroom. Wafting from the kitchen is the smell of curry, a scent that Ciel would have drowned in had it not been for Earl Grey's cold gaze. Ciel cranes his head to the left to examine the bowl of black tourmaline sitting atop an ornate silver table (traditional Grey family furniture, no doubt). Black tourmaline...Ciel's lips nearly twist into a smile.

So she still fears ghosts?

"You know, you're an asshole," Earl Grey states cheerfully, breaking into Ciel's reverie. "I never understood what she saw in you back then, and I still don't understand now."

Ciel manages to tear his gaze away from the vase of scarlet red roses that remind him too much of Madame Red to stare at the face of his former fiance's new husband. "I realize that I left her fiance-less," Ciel says slowly, "but I knew she was strong and charming enough that she would be fine."

Earl Grey glowers at him, leading him to the parlor and motioning for him to take a seat. "I'd offer tea or booze, but I'm not sure if the dead can drink," he explains unapologetically, something dangerous flashing in his silver eyes. "And I'm not sure if I could resist the urge to poison you, either. Cleaning up your second death would be rather irritating."

"That would be rather unfortunate," Ciel agress amiably. "You seem to hold a great amount of hostility towards me, earl. I understand that we were on less than stellar terms before my death, but—"

"You didn't just leave her fiance-less," Grey (the man is not acting as Earl Grey anymore: he is Charles, swift and furious) hisses. "You left her alone."

"...I'm afraid I don't see the difference."

"It took four years after your death to persuade her to allow me to court her," Grey informs conversationally. "During those four years, she took over as the Queen's Watchdog, you know."

Ciel flinches. "She's strong," he replies.

"But not all powerful," comes Grey's response, candid with a hint of an accusation. "She never had a perfect demon butler to clean up after all of her messes. Even though I assisted as much as I could under Her Majesty's name, she conducted plenty of missions on her own. After all, she couldn't bear to bother her family about Watchdog matters after Edward's marriage and during the extended vacation Francis and Alexis took." Because of you goes unsaid. Ciel knows of his aunt and uncle's grief.

It looks as if Grey is about to continue his spiel when his shoulders slump, the wind taken out of his sails abruptly. "She almost died. Twice, you know," he whispers, shutting his eyes. "And I'm sure there were plenty of other close calls she's never told me of: the only reason I know of those two times was because I was there."

When you weren't. Grey's voice isn't accusatory, not anymore. It's more thoughtful, almost contemplative and directed towards himself rather than towards an audience. Regardless of the intent, Ciel flinches and draws back as if he's been punched in the gut. "She's...alright?" he asks instead, words slow and deliberate.

Grey gives him an affronted expression. "Of course: who do you take her for? She's not going to leave me a widow so soon. And I won't let her: I'm a possessive and clingy bastard by nature."

Yes, Ciel can see this in the earl's every word and action. Adoration, however so subtle, shines in his silver eyes as he speaks about Ciel's cousin, along with something else. The closest word he can use to describe the emotion in Grey's eyes is...respect.

Ciel studies Earl Grey, so similar yet so different from the young man he remembers in his youth. Charles Grey of the past had been obnoxious, arrogant, ruthless, and reckless. This Charles Grey seems much more...mellow, although not necessarily more docile. There's still a calculative glint in the man's eyes, but his relaxed and slightly more open posture is a welcome change from his previous insufferable smugness.

He'll take care of Lizzy.

This thought brings a slightly twisted grimace on Ciel's face. There's a feeling that swells in his chest: bittersweet love, tinged with a bit of regret. "Stay by her side?" Ciel blurts out his selfish request before he can stop himself. They both know she doesn't need protection, but support.

Support that Ciel hadn't given in life, but now wishes he had.

Grey pauses and gives Ciel a measured look. "I'm her husband. 'Til death do us part: it's a nice vow that I intend to keep. Liz isn't going to get rid of me that easily."

The unfamiliar nickname rolls off of the earl's lips naturally, and Ciel idly wonders how long it took before Lizzy allowed him to use it.

"That's all I need to know," Ciel sighs, relief washing over him. He stands up, intending to leave. "Thank you, earl."

"Listen, Phantomhive," Grey states, eyes flashing. "I don't like you. But for some unearthly reason, Liz does. Liz deserves all the recognition and love the world can offer, and I intend to shower her with the affection she rightfully deserves. I don't give a shit about your otherworldly rules: if you have the time to sit and chat with me, you have the time to wait for my wife to return from her tea party."

Ciel hesitates for a brief second, pain threatening to consume him. He settles on speaking the truth. "I'm afraid I don't have much time, actually."

Grey growls, interrupting Ciel's thoughts once again. The silver haired man stands up and walks briskly towards him, jabbing his thumb at Ciel's chest. "Listen up, you dumbass. I know that look of yours: all of you Phantomhives have twisted martyr-complexes. Yes, you were an ass to my wife plenty of times. But God knows how many times she's spoken of your kindness and acceptance of her. Talk to her, if not for your sake, then for hers. Time may heal her wounds, but it'll never let her forget you."

"You seem awfully eager to introduce me to my former fiance," Ciel says, deflecting. His eyes swim with questions.

Grey snorts. "Easy: I don't give a damn about the complexities of relationships. I trust her, and I want her happy. You make her happy."

Ciel manages to control his facial expression before his face belies his internal turmoil. "Well…" Ciel considers rubbing the matter in the former Queen's butler's face, but the truth slips off his lips before he realizes it. "...so do you."

Grey pauses, the most peculiar expression on his face. It's as if the man has never considered himself somebody that made Lizzy happy, even though he is her husband, for pity's sake. Ciel knows the feeling of chasing somebody else's shadow, and he is realizing that Earl Grey has been chasing Ciel's shadow for so long that he doesn't recognize the feeling of being ahead.

Ciel fears for an adverse reaction. Instead, the earl throws him for a loop when he throws his head up in the air and guffaws. "Damn straight I do."

The heaviness of the atmosphere is somehow broken by Grey's merry laugh, and Ciel tilts his head to observe the man. He wonders if, had he been alive, he would've gotten along with the earl. The more likely scenario is that if he had lived, Ciel would've been the one residing in the Phantomhive manor alongside beautiful and vivacious Elizabeth, but Ciel thinks he may have liked Earl Grey as an addition to the family.

As overbearing as he is, Grey has a good heart, and Ciel can see why Lizzy has fallen for him. They're remarkably similar in some ways, and not just while fencing. Grey exerts some kind of gravitational pull that draws people in, just like his cousin. Paired with his quick wit and temper, the man's probably an ideal opponent and partner.

Ciel can see Charles Grey and Elizabeth Midford as partners, both socially and occupationally. They will uphold the Watchdog name well.

"Earl Grey," Ciel says, pursing his lips. "I...need to go."

Grey immediately snaps to attention. "You need to speak with Lizzy," he insists, the nickname sending a thrill down Ciel's spine.

There is one, long and glorious moment of silence in which Ciel internally wrestles with himself. Then, he shakes his head and gives Grey a small (bittersweet, regretful, almost nostalgic) smile. "I'm...very selfish, earl."

"No shit."

"...if I speak to her, I might not want to let her go," Ciel admits, closing his eyes. "And I must leave."

There is a permeating silence in the room.

Grey sighs wearily. "Have fun in Heaven. Hell. Wherever: I'm not even surprised anymore. I'll be mentioning this visit to Liz, by the way."

"A husband doesn't keep secrets from his wife?" Ciel presumes, his lips twitching upwards the slightest fraction. "Well, if your fidelity's at stake, there's no helping it. Tell her...that she has support. And...thank you for taking care of her." When he can't.

Grey gives him a nod, eyeing Ciel with something that might just be respect. "You're alright, Phantomhive."

Ciel pauses, then inclines his head ever so slightly. "...so are you."

And with that, Ciel Phantomhive leaves his former manor with a flourish of his cape.

("Honestly, couldn't he just say that he was there for you?" Grey complains later.

Elizabeth giggles, her eyes swimming with both sadness and love at the same time. There will always, always be a piece of her heart that loves Ciel — familial or romantic affection, she's not quite sure. But there is another part, one that knows that she loves this man with her heart and soul. She loves him, this man who walks alongside her and treats her as an equal.

She reaches over, her hand brushing against his cheek. "Oh, Charles," she says softly, having understood her cousin's message immediately. "He doesn't just mean himself, you know."

"...ahhh."

"Dork."

"Your dork," he corrects.

A smile quirks on her lips as she echoes her husband, "Damn straight.")