He ran his fingernails along the top of the shiny new coffin. Made of maple and iron, lined with pure white silk, it was a fitting container for its occupant. Custom-made, as a matter of fact.

He giggled slightly, playing with the string of lockets at his waist. Everything had needed to be custom-made for this young woman. Nothing could be the same as anyone else's. Grinning, he opened the coffin, and turned back to the body lying on his table. "Well, dearie. It's your time. A bit younger than some of your friends, but such is the life of a Phantomhive."

He quickly and carefully moved the preserved body into the coffin, and began arranging her in the most attractive way he could, still chatting. "Still, I'm surprised that assassin managed to finally knock you off with poison. You seemed much more careful with your food after the first time. Still, cyanide works quickly."

His expression softened slightly, and he stopped working. "At least you didn't suffer for long." He ran his fingers gently down the woman's face. "Darling Claudia. I remember you as a little girl. So full of life. You're the reason I left the reapers, you know. You knew what I was the moment you saw me, but you never told anyone." He stopped speaking, still gently stroking the woman's hair as he remembered their first meeting.

"Claudia!" Her father called out. "Be careful!"

"Of course, Father!" Claudia called back, still running through the field, blissfully unaware of the sheer slope only a few feet away. There was, however, one individual very much aware of the small drop-off, and exactly what it meant for young Claudia. He sat in a nearby tree, waiting for the girl to slip and fall, tumbling off the edge and onto the rocks below. But as Claudia laughed and spun in circles, enjoying the sunshine and warm summer air, hair free and shoes off, he found himself smiling.

As she came closer and closer to the edge, the reaper found himself dreading the moment. She was so full of life and fun… and she was young. Too young. In a split second, knowing what it meant for his career, he leaped from his perch, and positioned himself at the base of ledge, just as a scream tore through the air and the girl slipped off the edge, right into his waiting arms. The scream stopped, and the girl looked right into his eyes, her own widening in shock, surprise, and… curiosity?

"Good afternoon." He said, smiling at her. "That would have been a nasty fall."

"Claudia!" They heard her father call out as his footsteps pounded near.

Claudia looked in the direction of her father's voice. "I'm okay!" She called out, then looked back at the reaper. "But I wouldn't have been, would I?" She added, quietly. "You weren't here to save me, were you?"

The reaper was too shocked to respond, until Claudia's father skidded to a stop at the top of the overhang. "Claudia!" He said, now concerned at the presence of the stranger.

"It's okay, Father. He saved me." She responded, with an infectious smile.

The concerned, mildly suspicious expression and tone didn't quite leave her father's voice, but it was mingled with relief now. "Thank you, sir. And what might your name be?"

The reaper hesitated. "It's dangerous to know my real name. So most people refer to me… as the Undertaker."

He grinned again as he recalled the past twenty years. He had quickly become a family friend. Shortly thereafter, he had opened a mortuary in London. Watching Claudia that day had opened a new train of thought in his mind. It seemed a shame to have those humans that knew how to live gone forever. Could there be some continuation after death? He didn't know. Experiments had to be done, and his shop offered plenty of corpses to experiment on.

Now, however, he had a real reason to find out. His darling Claudia had died. Even after her betrothal and marriage into the Phantomhive family, he had harbored a love for her. He wasn't quite sure when it had begun, but it must have been in her first Season, when she was sixteen, five years after he had met her. She had been wearing a pink gown, one that set off her blue-black hair and blue eyes perfectly.

He hadn't quite known where to look that night. She'd made it quite clear the feeling was mutual, and the two had shared many a kiss in the following months.

However, the Phantomhive boy had set his eye on her too, and she was forced into the match. Now she had one child — Vincent.

Leaning down, he left a gentle kiss on her forehead. "This won't be forever. I'll bring you back someday, dearie. I promise. In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on your boy for you. You often said you wished he was my son. I can't be that to him, but I can try and keep him alive." He clipped a lock of her hair and slipped it into a locket engraved with her name, one that already stored her records. He'd been lucky enough to get there first. "For now, I'll keep you alive in my locket. It's your memories that make you Claudia, after all."

With one final caress, he finished the arrangement and shut the coffin. There would be a viewing, but he would make sure her coffin didn't go into the ground. Being the Undertaker had its perks, after all. And someday, he'd figure out how to bring her back.

He had to.


Random little Claudia/Undertaker drabble thing. I feel like the Phantomhives have some sort of insistent physical appearance. I dunno why. I should be writing a two-page play and a philosophy essay right now. Instead, I wrote this. Darn you, schoolwork-related writer's block.