"Beyond Death"

A Vincentaker roleplay (Co-writer: Stickiebun)

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. I make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only.

~xox~

"Happy Christmas, you naughty chap. Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow."

Even as he replayed the moment in his mind, he wondered whatever had possessed him to steal that kiss beneath the mistletoe and stuff a lump of coal down Earl Phantomhive's pants. He'd always been the impulsive sort, but romantic liaisons with customers or employers was one thing he had always avoided. He shouldn't be courting a mortal at all, let alone the head of the household he'd been in service to for generations.

"Foolish," he remonstrated himself as he worked over his newest acquisition. The young man had been killed by his lover's jealous husband; shot cleanly through the heart. Undertaker grinned at hi and clarified: "I was speaking of myself, not you. Though I suppose it applies to you as well. Diddling a married woman…what did you expect to happen, boy?"

He frowned a moment later, pausing his suturing. "Of course, old Undertaker is contemplating having a diddle of his own with a soon to be married young man. Perhaps I'm not one to judge."

He checked the time and he sighed. Vincent would be expecting him soon. He'd invited him to come to the estate and have Christmas dinner with him, since he was spending it alone this year. "Bad idea, I know," he admitted to his oblivious guest, "though I doubt the Lady Durless would shoot me if she discovered my interest in her betrothed, and even if she did, it wouldn't put me in the grave like you."

Indeed, most—if not all—noble marriages were arrangements of convenience, not love. The husbands generally saved their affection for their mistresses, not their wives. It was common for noblemen to keep a lover on the side; even expected in some circles. Vincent was very fond of his bride-to-be, though. Undertaker couldn't imagine him taking a mistress on the side and siring bastards, even if it was acceptable in his position.

"But would he take a consort, I wonder?" Muttered the ancient. After all, he had proof that Vincent was attracted to men as well as women. He looked down at the corpse on his table. "You're no help."

Well, at least the Earl couldn't embarrass his Lady with illegitimate children, if he took a male lover…let alone a reaper who couldn't reproduce even if he wanted to. Reapers weren't born; they were created from chosen souls of humans—save for the oldest ones like Undertaker. Unlike most of his brethren, he had never been human.

"I've got to get these thoughts out of my foolish old head," insisted the mortician. Mortals never made the ideal lovers, even if they weren't legally bound to another in matrimony. Their lives were so brief and so fragile. Undertaker reached down and patted the chain of lockets around his waist.

"Yes, too brief," he murmured sadly in a tone that living ears never heard from him. He decided not to show for the dinner. He could say he was too busy to make it, if questioned. No matter how delightful it felt to push that handsome young man up against the wall and ravish his gasping lips, he needed to keep things professional from now on.

Oh, but it would be a difficult test of his resolve, he knew.

~xox~

Vincent sat in his study alone, resting his chin on his laced fingers as he stared into the blazing fire in the hearth. His mind was focused on one thing: The Undertaker, and how the man had admitted to his not being human—Death, he had said. The Grim Reaper. A keeper of time and collector of souls—though retired—saying that there were many other angels of death to do the work. It explained so much about how the man never aged a single day since the young Earl was just a small child...before that, even. The man was ageless...immortal.

Oh, how fleeting and insignificant human lives must be, to the likes of Undertaker.

And yet, the man—no, the reaper—had kissed him. Absentmindedly, the Earl's fingers unlaced from each other and his fingertips lightly touched his lips. That kiss...it had ruined everything. It only reminded him that his marriage was more of a business arrangement. Yes, he cared for the beautiful blond woman he'd soon wed, but it wasn't love. He was fond of her in other ways, the same way he was fond of his soon-to-be sister in law, Angelina.

Such a fiery redhead. Angelina always made him laugh and she contrasted her gentle sister Rachel. He could have married either sister and felt the same, but the girls' father seemed more interested in marrying off Rachel into the Phantomhive family, so he had chosen to begin courting the lovely Countess Rachel Durless. Really, seeing how most men of nobility married for business and status, he found he'd gotten lucky, having a future wife he could call friend...and perhaps he'd be able to fall in love with her as he was sure his own late father had fallen in love with his mother, over time. It wasn't impossible...or at least, it hadn't been.

When Undertaker stole a kiss, lips pressing so lustfully against his own, Vincent had felt a shift within himself. After having time alone to dwell on the feelings that kiss unearthed, he almost wished he could take the Undertaker as his wife. Impossible, he knew. He could get away with breaking a few laws if he wished. His status as an earl and the Queen's guard dog allowed him such...but to take part in sexual activities...to want to break the sanctity of marriage by being with another man...that was one law he was sure he couldn't get away with between the Church and the Crown.

He'd also never forgive himself for hurting his pride and good name as a Phantomhive for going back on his word to wed Rachel.

But he wanted to feel that man's touch again...

The Earl's thoughts were interrupted by his head butler Tanaka, who knocked on the door before stepping in and giving a small bow.

"Sir, dinner is getting cold and your guest doesn't seem to be coming. Should I have the staff wait a while longer?"

"No, that's fine, Tanaka. I'll take dinner alone. You and the other staff may enjoy what is left," Vincent said, standing up and turning to walk down to the dining hall, decorated divinely for the holiday...and only to be enjoyed by the eyes of one lonely young Earl.

Maybe the reaper had decided that humans were too fleeting, or perhaps the kiss they had shared was a cruel joke meant to disturb the waters Vincent now sailed in as head of the house and a future husband.

He should have felt angry, yet he felt more...depressed by the notion as he sat down to eat alone.

~xox~

Undertaker probably would have laid any doubts of his insanity to rest, if anyone could see him now. He kept stepping toward the shop door, only to stop, turn around and shake his head.

"No, we decided that was a bad idea," he reminded himself. He was speaking of himself and his latest "client" when he said "we", of course, but carrying on conversations with dead bodies was no better than talking to oneself.

"Where is the harm in a good meal and pleasant conversation?" He argued to nobody in particular. "I can eat with the man without pushing him down on the table and having my way with...with...oh, dammit all. What have I gone and done to myself, now?"

It was just a kiss; just a bit of holiday mischief and curiosity. He'd done it to fluster the earl for his own amusement, but now he simply could not banish it from his mind. The temptation to grope him while he had his hands down his pants had been difficult enough to ignore, but now his body wanted even more.

"Greedy thing," he accused himself. "No good can come of this."

Well, orgasms could come of it and that was always a good thing, but the price he knew he would eventually pay was too steep. Quite simply, Undertaker was no good with meaningless dalliances. He was a terrific flirt, but he wasn't interested in casual sex, and he always fell for his lovers when he entered a relationship.

And Earl Phantomhive was due to be married...not to mention, he was a mortal.

The ancient death god sighed and shuffled his feet sulkily. "Best stick with the plan," he mumbled. "Keep it professional."

He went to his desk and sat down to write a falsely cheerful letter to the earl, begging his pardon for being unable to join him due to his busy schedule.

~xox~

The earl finished his meal, and having no one to occupy his time, Vincent found that he simply couldn't keep himself busy. Reading wasn't working, and he was caught up for the time being on his work, as the holidays had provided him both with a lighter workload and more time to do it in. So, having nothing more to do, he retired to his chambers and started to strip himself down. It was Christmas, after all. Tanaka deserved a break from his duties, he was such a hard worker.

Just as he was slipping into bed, there was a knock and Tanaka walked in, a letter sitting upon his silver tray. "Word from the Undertaker, Sir."

Vincent took the letter, nodding in thanks and dismissing the butler. He opened the letter and read over it, finding himself having to hold back a curse.

Work. The reaper had stood him up for work that could have waited until morning, no doubt.

In a somewhat childish fit, he crumpled the letter and tossed it into the fireplace, watching it go up in flame.

~xox~

He'd had a very rough night. That brief but passionate kiss plagued him from the moment he retired to his coffin to the moment he woke up. His dreams were filled with fantasies about claiming more than his young employer's lips...and the brandy he'd consumed to help him sleep was now rearing its ugly head. How many glasses had he had? Six? Seven? He couldn't recall.

Feeling like someone had his skull in a slowly tightening vise, he opened his coffin and practically rolled out of it. "Mercy," he grumbled, putting a hand to his pounding head. Even the soft sound of his boots hitting the creaky wooden floor seemed too loud, and he winced with every step he took.

"Tea," muttered Undertaker, "tea will make it better...and aspirin."

He had to give Vincent Phantomhive credit; his attraction to the man drove him to drink faster than any previous love interest he'd ever had. He checked the time and he swore. His customers would be picking up the body for the funeral, shortly. There was no time for tea or a bath. Temporarily forgetting his angst over his Phantomhive dilemma, Undertaker hurried to the basement to transfer the preserved body to its coffin.

~xox~

A week passed by, and Undertaker had no further contact with the earl. Business resumed as normal both at the mortuary and at the Phantomhive estate, until one night, a dark figure snuck into the grounds of the estate. He managed to get by the security guards without detection, and he stealthily scaled the walls of the manor to the lord of the estate's bedroom window.

He pulled himself up on the ledge and he flattened against the wall, smirking with confidence. The Phantomhive security was indeed lax. He peered through the window and he saw the earl asleep on his bed.

Perfect.

With a last look around to be sure the coast was clear, he got out his glass cutter and suction cup to carve a neat hole in the window. He paused when the earl stirred slightly in his sleep, and when he went still again, he removed the piece of glass.

He eased a black-gloved hand in through the hole, and he carefully lifted the latch. He pushed the window open and he climbed in, using the glow of the coke burning in the fireplace to see better in the dark. Reaching for the dagger concealed in his garments, he approached his slumbering mark and he flipped the weapon deftly in his hand.

The blade glinted in the moonlight, and the intruder chose where he would strike as he closed in on the occupant of the bedroom. His boot struck something as he reached the bed, and he looked down to see the shadowed shape of a book. The noise disturbed the sleeper, and the intruder knew he had only seconds to act.

~xox~

Vincent moaned as his sleep was disturbed, rolling over in his large, king-sized bed. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he wasn't alone. Without a sound, his hand moved up under his pillows and felt for the small pistol he kept there. It was something his father always had in his bed, and he'd figured it was probably for reasons like this. His fingers found its handle and curled around it, ready to pull it out as soon as the intruder moved.

The intruder made his move, interpreting Vincent's motions incorrectly. He lunged with the dagger, changing targets from his chest to his back. Vincent also made his move, turning back and bringing his elbow up to deliver a blow to his attacker, knocking him back enough to bring the cocked gun out and point it at him as he sat up, eyes narrowed.

The assassin froze when he saw the weapon, and he debated the situation quietly. He made as if to lower his knife, but it was a ruse. The moment Vincent relaxed his guard slightly, the man lunged for him again, with his dagger leading the way.

The Earl finally let out a gasp, loosing his cool, emotionless expression as he rolled out of the way, the gun firing off, but the bullet only grazed the attacker and embedded itself into the wall behind him. The assassin jumped onto the bed and stabbed, burying his blade into the mattress as Vincent rolled away. He made another dive at the Earl as the sound of hurried footsteps approached, and the door flew open to admit an older gentleman in a nightcap and gown.

Tanaka took one look at the situation, aimed the pistol in his hand and fired...all in the space of three heartbeats. The shot hit the intruder in the throat and he dropped his dagger to clamp his hand over the mortal injury. He sank to his knees as the butler placed himself between him and the young lord, and he fell over gurgling.

He was dead within moments.

"Are you injured, Sir?" Questioned Tanaka, taking his eyes off the dead man to look Vincent over with concern.

The Earl's heart was racing, his breath heavy as if he'd been running, but he hid his startled emotions behind an expression of indifference. "Startled, but unharmed," he stated once he trusted his voice enough to speak. "Thank you, Tanaka."

He slid out of bed, still holding his gun as he peered down at the man. "It seems our night security may need to be re-advised."

~xox~

Undertaker got a peculiar call the very next day. The Phantomhive butler rung him up, asking him if he would come to the estate and examine a body.

"I've had stranger requests," admitted the mortician. "What happened; did a staff member or dinner guest keel over under suspicious circumstances?"

"No Sir, I'm afraid this one was an intruder," answered Tanaka in his cultured voice. "He made an attempt on the Earl's life late last night, and—"

Undertaker dropped the phone on its cradle without ceremony and got out of his chair, heading out the door without even listening to the rest.

~xox~

Back at the estate, Tanaka frowned. "Hello? Are you there, Sir?"

He got the dial tone a moment later, and he pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it. He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell the informant that Vincent didn't know he was making this call. Vincent told him not to call the Yard just yet, because whomever had sent the assassin after him might send someone to investigate when he failed to report back...and that could give them the opportunity to flush them out. If the Yard got involved, it would get back to the assassin's employers and put them on their guard.

He wondered if the Undertaker would come or not, but he believe that he would. He seemed quite fond of the young Earl, after all.

~xox~

The Earl had slept fitfully the rest of the night in a guest room closer to the servant quarters. His lack of proper rest had resulted in bags under his eyes, and he rubbed them as he sat at his desk in his office. Feeling antsy, he sighed and stood up, walking out of his office and down the hall, thinking some fresh air would do him some good; a quick walk around the frozen gardens, maybe.

While Vincent was wandering the grounds in search of inner peace, his family informant arrived. Undertaker pulled his wagon to a stop, and he hopped down as a footman approached. He patted the animal on the neck and fed her a granola bar from a pocket in his robes.

"Give her a brush-down, would you?" He said to the footman as he came to lead the animal away with the cart. "I'll be needing access to the wagon for surgical supplies later. Don't park it in a tight spot to reach."

The footman bowed. "Of course, Sir."

As the servant led the cart away to the stables, Undertaker tipped his hat to him and started for the stairs leading up to the front doors. He spotted Vincent Phantomhive coming around from the back of the manor, dressed warmly for the chill weather. He saw the reaper and he stopped in his tracks, looking vaguely uncertain of himself.

Seeing him again brought back the memory of the kiss beneath the mistletoe with startling clarity, and Undertaker was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to rush over to him and inspect him for damage. Instead, he grinned broadly at the young man, tipped his hat in greeting and walked over to him at a more reserved pace.

"To what might I owe the visit?" Vincent asked as the reaper approached him. His tone was smooth, even and professional, yet held a hint of surprise—and resentment.

The sullen undertone didn't escape the mortician's notice. His grin nearly faltered as it occurred to him that the Earl was actually upset with him, and he assumed it was because of his inappropriate behavior on Christmas Eve.

"I hear you've got a body you need me to look at," he answered, keeping his tone light and using his "street voice". He disliked the dark circles under the young man's usually vibrant eyes even more than he disliked the resentment that he sensed from him.

Using his true voice—which was much smoother and a bit deeper than his mortician voice—he leaned in to ask a soft question. "Are you all right? You look terrible."

Vincent frowned. "I didn't quite get a proper night's rest, is all," he stated simply, somewhat startled by how his heart had leapt as the man leaned in. Of course he hadn't been about to kiss him again. Why would he think that he would? It was a one-time thing...a joke.

He turned away. "I believe the servants have moved the body into the west foyer. I assume Tanaka called you in?"

Undertaker gave a nod, his voice once again returning to the slightly scratchy timbre with the cockney accent. "He did indeed, my lord. You haven't gotten the Yard involved yet, have you?"

"No. But of course, I hadn't known you had been called. I had wished to keep this secret for a while."

Undertaker's expression darkened, his demeanor shifting even more. "You loggerheaded, clay-brained nut-hook!"

He grabbed the Earl by the shoulders, his voice changing again in his sincere ire. "What were you planning to do with him, hmm? Leave him rotting in your house while you try to pretend nothing happened? You should have called on me immediately, rather than stumbling about like some stupefied zombie. Now take me to the body immediately, while it's still fresh enough for me to question it."

"I had planned to flush out who sent him to kill me in my own bed!" Vincent snapped, not meaning to lose his professional tone, "I thought it would be nice to feel safe to fall asleep on my own estate, rather than have to hide out in a guest room!"

Undertaker's demeanor abruptly shifted again, and he smiled almost tendertly at him and sighed. "Brave, foolish boy," he whispered, reaching out to stroke aside a lock of blue-black hair that had fallen over Vincent's left eye. "Choosing to leave Scotland Yard out of it was smart, but trying to leave me out was hair-brained. Fortunately, your butler had more common sense."

He loomed close to the Earl suddenly and without warning, staring into his eyes from beneath the veil of his pale bangs. "I can help keep you alive for a while longer, if you'll trust me as you once did.

"Trust you," Vincent stubbornly scoffed, "You used me as a joke. Had a good laugh at my expense, and then returned to life as normal in your gloomy little shop while I made an even bigger fool of myself, waiting for you...hoping you'd show up to dinner. What's to say you won't do so again, if I place my trust in you once more? How many have you done such to over the span of your ungodly existence?"

He turned away. "I don't need your help if the price is going to be so cruel. I could handle this myself. I am my father's heir, I am the Queen's Watchdog, and I can handle whatever ruffians attempt to break into my home in the dead of night."

The reaper stared at him. "So...this coldness and resentment is over...dinner?"

He started to laugh, ridiculously happy. He tried to stifle it, but it was too bleedin' funny. Seeing Vincent's glare, he tried to explain. "Oh...ahaha! You...I thought you were brassed off about the kiss! I...haha...never showed for the dinner because...hehe...I thought you wouldn't want to see me after that, and you were just too polite to retract the invitation!"

Never mind that part of the reason he hadn't shown was his own uncertainty and fear...it was such a relief to find out his advances weren't unwelcome. He'd practically assaulted the lad, after all.

Vincent blinked up at the reaper. "...The kiss...?" He shook his head. "If I had been angry over that, I would have withdrawn my invitation."

Undertaker reined in the histronics, remembering why he was there. Still grinning helplessly, he sighed. "I wanted to come. I spent the entire night drinking brandy and mentally flogging myself."

He saw what he was doing and he knew that it was dangerous, but he couldn't help himself. He reached out again to touch the Earl's face, his smile softening. "I didn't plan that kiss, my lord. It came in a moment of mischievous stupidity, and maybe I wanted to see hwo you would react, but I didn't do it to mock you. I've always been rather fond of you, Vincent."

His grin sharpened again. "Did you enjoy it so much, then?"

The young man felt his cheeks heat up. "I only enjoyed it if you meant it," he fibbed. He had enjoyed it, but if it had been meaningless to the reaper, then he needed it to be meaningless to himself...for his sake, and for Rachel's.

Undertaker hesitated, struggling with himself. Yes, of course the kiss meant something to him. Initially ventured out of curiosity, that one damned encounter plagued him every night since. Vincent was mortal though, and one day sooner or later, his spirit would depart and leave Undertaker alone, once more.

"Earl, it's..."

He was going to say "complicated", but he looked at those tired, watchful eyes and his resolve cracked. "Oh, balls," muttered the reaper, yanking his hat off his head to keep it out of the way. He pulled the young man roughly against him and he gave him a repeat performance, forgetting that they were outside.

It was all well and good to tease the man about kissing one of his campus mates outside, but Undertaker found himself quite helpless against Vincent's charms and he made a big fat hypocrite of himself, delving his tongue into his mouth to mate with the Earl's.

Vincent yipped in surprise, having opened his mouth to add his statement: "And don't answer that you've been focusing on how I'm only a human and you are as old as time", but the words were quickly lost as his lips were claimed. His eyes flickered closed and his arms encircled the reaper's shoulders, getting entangled in the long white hair as he pulled himself tighter against the irritatingly irresistible man.

Undertaker deepened the kiss, his body aching with need in response to Vincent's warm, willing eagerness. He stroked the Earl's teeth, the roof of his mouth and every part of his tongue. Fondling, gliding, thrusting and curling, his tongue gave Vincent a vivid sample of what the reaper wished to do with his whole body.

Sadly, all good things had to end. Undertaker sensed another mortal approaching, and he suddenly panicked, pushing Vincent away so abruptly that the young lord lost his balance and fell to the snow with a cry. Undertaker winced, and he knew he'd pay for that later, but he painted a bright smile on his face for Tanaka as the butler rounded the corner of the house.

"Mr. Tanaka," he greeted, "I was just discussing the matter of the body with your master."

He turned to offer poor Vincent a hand up. "Are you all right, Earl? You tripped on that root rather suddenly."

Vincent's face was already flushed, his breath still catching in his throat. He had half a mind to give in and throw a childish fit over being treated in such a way—but the appearance of the butler brought the reality of everything down onto his rage, settling it down quickly. He sighed and accepted the reaper's help. "It was more the ice hidden under last night's snowfall," he stated simply, brushing himself off.

"Please excuse the interruption," said the butler with a graceful bow. "I was informed of your arrival, Undertaker. If I may, I can show you to our 'guest' now."

Undertaker nodded and he hoped he wasn't blushing. He avoided looking at the object of his lust as he addressed him, stuffing the hat back onto his head. "Earl, will you accompany us?" He asked. "I think you should bear witness to anything I discover."

Inwardly as he looked at the exhausted young man, he thought that nobody should look that good when so tired.

The Earl nodded. "Very well," he agreed, leading the way into the manor and letting Tanaka take his heavy winter coat off him before the three of them moved to where the attacker's corpse lay. Vincent took out his handkerchief before entering, holding it over his nose and mouth...though the man hadn't yet started to stink as the room was kept cold.

Undertaker knelt before the corpse, removing his hat to lay it aside on the floor. He pulled the mass of his silver hair aside and he bent over the corpse. He listened for a moment, before straightening up and getting back to his feet with a nod.

"Shut the door if you please, Mr. Tanaka. Only you and the Earl are permitted to see this."

"Of course, Sir," said the butler, and he closed and locked the door.

Undertaker shot a smirk at Vincent. "Your butler has been around long enough to know my true nature, but he is sworn to secrecy."

Tanaka nodded. "Yes, I am," he agreed softly. "I presume that you intend to read this man's records?"

"Yes. A feat that wouldn't have been possible, if I hadn't arrived soon enough after his death." He looked at Vincent and his expression softened a bit. "I will get as many answers for you as I can, my lord."

The Earl nodded, keeping his distance from the body. "Then by all means, do as you must," he said, curious as to how the reaper would "read" the dead body's memories.

Undertaker called upon his death scythe, and while the Earl and his butler watched, he knelt by the body and made one smooth cut. The mortals in the room could not see the cinematic records that came forth, but the retired death god could review them easily. He watched them closely, paying special attention to the last 48 hours of the assassin's life.

When he'd gathered the information he needed, Undertaker stood back up, put his hat back on and approached his companions with a cold smile on his lips. "Baron Hamilton," he said in satisfaction. "I witnessed the signing of the contract. How rude, young Earl. You invited that treacherous old sod to your last Halloween masquerade, as I recall."

"Hamilton," repeated Tanaka with a sigh. "I might have known. Ever has he coveted the Phantomhives' standing with the Queen."

Undertaker nodded. "And now his greed is going to turn 'round on him and gnaw him on the withered, rotund backside."

He looked at Vincent again, his hidden gaze glittering eagerly beneath his bangs. He took his hat off again and he offered the Earl a graceful bow. "Please allow me to do the honors and take care of him for you, my lord."

Tanaka's gray brows lifted with surprise, and he spoke before Vincent could respond to the offer. "But Sir, you have always been a neutral party in all Phantomhive affairs. Whatever happened to your insistence that conflicts like this aren't any of your business?"

Undertaker spared him a mad grin, before his strange, dual colored eyes settled on Vincent again. "There comes a time when even Death must choose a side, old chap. I have my reasons. Well, young lord? Will you entrust old Undertaker to rid you of this pest? I promise you, the authorities won't stand a chance of tracking it back to you. They'll think he had a heart attack."

Vincent hesitated. He hadn't seen anything but the reaper cut the body and then stare at it for a time, and Tanaka was right; Undertaker had always been neutral as far as he had witnessed as a boy, learning under his father. Maybe the request to take care of the Baron was the reaper's way of promising that those kisses had meant something special to him as well? If so, he'd have to trust Undertaker that he was right about the Baron.

But Vincent, though crafty and had always done what he had to in order to achieve his goals, had never involved someone's life before. If he agreed, he was sure that the Baron would possibly be killed, and that thought made him hesitate all the more. Life was something every man, woman and child had only one of...as far as he knew, anyway.

"Take care of him how?" he questioned.

Undertaker cast a significant look over his shoulder at the body lying on the floor. "The same way he tried to take care of you, Earl, only without the mess. It will be quick and clean—which is more than that man deserves, if you ask me."

The Earl considered it, going over the situation in his mind again. The Baron was a powerful, greedy man, and likely wouldn't stop his assaults until he succeeded...and what if he also set his sights on poor Rachel? How far would he go to climb up the social ladder?

It was unfortunate, but the best solution for the safety of not just himself, but those he cared for, too. He couldn't, after all, turn him in to Scotland Yard...what would he say? What proof did he have? "An old immortal undertaker read the dead body of a hired assassin, which told him that the Baron was behind it"? He'd be taken for a madman!

Finally, Vincent gave a small nod. "Very well."

Undertaker grinned and bowed again. "Come nightfall, he'll never trouble you or anyone else again."

He put his hat back on and banished his death scythe. Whistling a cheery melody, he walked to the door. He paused at the threshold and looked back at the body. "You can call the Yard. It won't matter if the Baron discovers his goon's fate, now."

Vincent nodded again. "Tanaka, would you please take care of that?" he asked as they saw the reaper to the door. "And Undertaker, please do keep me informed on the status of the Baron."

"I'll ring you when it's taken care of," promised the mortician. He took his leave then, eager to rid the world of one more fool that would dare threaten the Queen's Guard Dog. He knew it wouldn't be the last time an enemy made an attempt on Vincent's life, but it would be one less murdering cretin to worry about.

"Thank you," said Vincent, "and do be careful."

~xox~

As promised, Undertaker got the job done quickly, cleanly and without so much as a peep of sound to alert the Baron's household. He came and went like a shadow, putting an end to the man while he slumbered. While reviewing his cinematic records, he discovered something a bit startling; the Baron was also responsible for the previous Earl's death. Undertaker always knew it was poison that killed Vincent's father, but he'd never found out who delivered it...until now.

He pondered the information as he quietly left the Baron's estate. Should he tell Vincent what he had learned? If he did, would the young noble resent him for depriving him of the honor of killing him in vengeance? Vincent didn't seem like the vengeful sort, but in all his long years of reaping them and interacting with them, Undertaker had never managed to completely understand the workings of the human mind. Even a merciful soul like Vincent was capable of vengeful wrath.

He decided he was best off being honest with him, but this was a thing best told to someone in person. He returned to his wagon, which was waiting down the road from the Baron's estate for him. Rather than go back to his shop in London, Undertaker took a different route to the Phantomhive estate.

~xox~

-To be continued