Polished leather heels clicked and clacked against the frosted pavement of an otherwise quiet street and the wearer drew in shaky breaths as he pattered onwards through the maze-like turns and twists of a late-night London. Onlookers watched curiously as the strangers traveled past them; they seemed unaware of the many eyes that followed their every move. It truly was an odd sight to see the child earl and his butler out and about at such an hour - nonetheless in one of the most notorious slums to be found in the capital. The commoners whispered amongst themselves and gossiped behind cupped hands but the couple payed it no mind; a knowing glance and smirk exchanged between them as they marched onwards.They reached their destination: Madame Ida's night-house. The infamous Madame Ida had been a prostitute for many years before establishing her own brothel in the slums of London. The brothel had quickly become one of the most profitable in all of London and brought in not only the madame's own loyal clients, but people from all over the world in search of the quality pleasures that were said to be found there. Lady Ida was regarded highly and considered respectable despite her background and lived the remainder of her life in the lap of luxury. Her daughter Nora inherited the business after her mother's passing and the night-house's legacy thrived on.

The building was well-kept and lively in comparison to the surrounding houses; laughter and music filtered through an open balcony window on the third floor and warmth radiated through the open front door. A pleasant-looking plump woman in her fifties sat on a rocking chair by the entrance and stood up to greet the men once she had noticed them. Her eyes scanned over the couple and she lifted a thin eyebrow as she studied the small boy that glared back at her in a less than friendly manner. "Business or pleasure, gentleman?" The young Phantomhive laughed haughtily before answering. "Don't those two things usually correlate in your line of work?" The woman lifted her eyebrows in amusement at the snarky comment and a small smile made it's way across her face as she replied with equal attitude. "It depends on the patron really." She shot the boy a less than proper glance and the boy couldn't help but laugh at the cryptic and off-handed words of the otherwise motherly woman. "No, I am afraid that the only company that we wish to seek out tonight is that of the lady of the house. Do you know if she is awake?" Her eyes and mouth wrinkled as she laughed again. "Boy, to whom do you think you are speaking? I am a little bit too old to be selling my flesh, no?" The earl blushed and averted his gaze. "I-I apologize. I suppose I should have been able to come to that conclusion on my own." Madame Nora stood from her chair and shook her head "Now now dear, this is hardly something to apologize for. Let's go inside before we freeze to death."

The madame led them inside and a velvet curtain was drawn back, revealing a cozy parlor where a group of men and women sat together and drank. The crowd looked up at the newcomers and silence fell over the room as they gawked at the odd visitors. A particularly drunk man stood up to examine the young boy, stepping closer than necessary to lean down towards him. "Hmm, don't you think you are a little bit young to be in here? Do you even know where you are?" The drunkard laughed obnoxiously and was about to continue his uncalled for speech when lady Nora intervened. "Mr. Crowley, must you always be so nosy? Do have a seat and mind your own business - and no more drinking!" Mr. Crowley was about to cry out in protest when a young red haired woman grabbed him by the tie, pulling him back down onto the sofa and giggled as she sat onto his lap; that distracted the rowdy man enough so that Nora could signal for her guests to follow her.

Nora lead the two down a dimly-lit hallway and into a small office. The door was closed behind them and Nora walked to her desk to sit down across from the gentlemen. "So, now that you know who I am, how about you introduce yourselves?" The boy cleared his throat and spoke "I am here on official business for the Queen in regards to a highly sensitive matter. My name is not important at the moment and time is of the essence so I would much appreciate your cooperation." The woman seemed disappointed but chose not press on with the matter. "Well then, what may I do for you?" The butler was first to speak. "A man by the name of Charles Atwood was seen leaving your establishment sometime earlier this week and has not been seen since. Do you have any recollection of such a man?" There was silence for a while as Nora thought; her bow furrowing as she tried to recollect whether she had been unfamiliar with any of her recent patrons. "Ah, yes, I remember him! He was quite peculiar; the man drank himself half-dead! He seemed very skittish. Is he alright?" She seemed genuinely worried and the older male was quick to react. "Well, that is what we are trying to find out. Is there anything else you can recall about the man? His time of arrival, departure or any other information you can provide us with will be of great use to us." The lady of the house stood from her seat and walked over to a nearby counter where she had a large variety of alcohol lined up neatly; she poured herself a drink, turning around once to ask if she could offer the men anything and received a no thank you.

"He stumbled into my parlor some time before midnight and stayed for half an hour at most. He seemed agitated and checked his watch often throughout his stay as if he were waiting for someone. He drank heavily - to calm his nerves, I suppose - and refused all of my girls. He didn't really speak to anyone other than to ask for a refill and left so drunk that I worried he wouldn't be able to keep on his feet as he walked home or to wherever else he was headed."

She stopped for a while to down a small sip of her heady drink before speaking again. "Actually, he did speak to Elaine - that is the redheaded beauty that you saw earlier. Such a lovely thing that one and can you believe it, she's my daughter!" Lady Nora muttered some words of warm regard for her daughter before Ciel interrupted her. "Do you think we could speak with Elaine? It would only be a moment." Nora stood once again and walked out through the office door before returning a moment later, the aforementioned daughter in tow.

Elaine was as Nora had said, very charming; fiery red hair, light freckles spotted against fair skin and delicate full lips that curved upwards kittenishly at the ends. She studied the men suspiciously for a moment before she spoke brusquely. "What do you want?" She pulled a cigarette from her bosom and lit it; Ciel looked away, somewhat embarrassed to have been witness to her unladylike action. "Miss Elaine, if you would please-" the boy was interrupted by an indignant huff as Elaine crossed her hands over her chest and looked away. "Why exactly should I be telling you anything about my clients? I am not as easily fooled as my mother - you could be bounty hunters for all I know! I mean, really. Some rich snotty little boy - what does this concern you? Isn't it past your bedtime?" The earl was about to return with an equally rude retort when Sebastian spoke. "I can assure you, we are not bounty hunters. We are here as ordered by the Queen herself and our intentions are in your clients best interest." Elaine was quiet for a moment, taking a long draw from her cigar and finally cocked her to the side. "Follow me."

Elaine led them onto the balcony of the second floor and stood there as she drew out yet another cigar and lit it. "You can ask as many questions as you like. I will answer those that I want to and keep quite when I don't. I don't care what you do with the information but you didn't get any of it from me. Is that understood?" Ciel nodded once.

"Do you recall a man by the name of Charles Atwood speaking with you earlier this week?"

"Yeah, I remember him"

"Had you ever met Sir Atwood before that night?"

"No"

"Are you certain?"

"Yes"

"Do you recall your exchange with the man?"

"… He didn't really say much. He was fidgeting around like some lunatic and it took me almost a whole bottle of port wine to get him to still. I asked him what it was that I could do for him - you know, in terms of business - but, he said that he just wanted to sit with me"

"Do you remember anything about Sir Atwood's attire or appearance?"

"He wore a nice suit - the kind that folks like you love to waste money on and he seemed a bit pale. That's about it"

"Thank you, that will be all"

"Wait, I have a question that I want you to answer in return"

"Well, then?"

"...What kind of trouble has that idiot gotten himself into?"

Ciel was silent for a moment as he studied the hidden worry in her eyes.

"We don't know. Not yet, at least"

Without a word of warning, Elaine threw her cigarette stub out the window and sauntered away. Ciel, however, stood firmly where he was as he played through the short conversation in his head. Why had she been so defensive of a man whom she says that she has barely exchanged a single word with? Was she lying or did she perhaps know more this case than she lead on? Ciel was too lost in thought to notice when Sebastian pulled his hand into his and lead him back downstairs so that they could thank Madame Nora for her hospitality and take leave; only when he found himself being lifted into his carriage did he snap out of his trance. "Hm?" Sebastian looked down at the boy as he was about to close the door and responded with a polite smile. "We will be returning to the manor now, my lord."

Sebastian sat across from the boy and watched as his facial expressions tensed and relaxed with each thought that passed through his mind. What are you plotting, darling boy? There fell a comfortable silence in the small cabin and the two men glanced at each other briefly before a mischievous smile spread on the lips of the younger."It was fortunate that I should have decided to accompany you. I am sure that this would have taken a much longer time had I not been present." Red eyes stared into blue and the butler's jaw tightened slightly before speaking. "May I ask what it is that you are implying, my lord?" Ciel stared on, undaunted by the demon's words of warning. "Well, Sebastian, demons have been known to ... give in to their desires and well.. You know full well what I am implying!" Sebastian was not amused in the slightest by the foolish accusation. "My lord, I can assure you. No such thing would have happened. What kind of butler would I be if I delayed an order sent directly from the Queen to enjoy myself?" The question was rhetorical but the boy answered anyways, sarcasm dripping with every venomous word he spoke. "One hell of a butler, naturally." Garnet eyes shone in the darkness of the small carriage and when Sebastian spoke again, it was more a growl than the usual smooth tones in which he spoke. "Are you accusing me of lying, Ciel?" At the sound of his name being spoken the boy looked up at the man seated across from him and sighed in defeat. "No, Sebastian, I am not." There was silence and then there was not. "While your white gloves may hide the blood on your hands and your tongue may speak in convenient truths, you are not a liar. This I know." A kiss was placed onto the wrist of a small hand and no more was said for the rest of the journey.

Ciel stared out the window as he pondered his newest puzzle: Charles Atwood, a man with more connections to the underworld than most, had gone missing a month ago only to be spotted leaving Madame Ida's earlier in the week. This in itself - though very curious - was of no interest to the Queen and even if it had been, it would have not been brought to the attention of her watchdog. However, when his sudden appearance was connected to the gruesome murder of a nobleman's son, the Queen did not hesitate to contact her loyal pet. Samuel Blake, the four year old son of a wealthy Baron had been abducted and killed two days after the reappearance of Sir Atwood. This might have been overlooked as a coincidence had the Baron not insisted that Atwood was to blame for the tragedy. The nobleman gave no explanation for his accusation and soon after became bedridden and incoherent with grief. To make matters all the more confusing, there was no record to show that Mr. Atwood and the Baron had ever met in person and those closest to the nobleman insisted that they had never before heard mention of a such a man. On top of that, Ciel was still not entirely convinced that Nora's daughter had been truthful and that made things all the more inconvenient. Phantomhive did not know what to make of all of this and his head throbbed as he reevaluated the facts again and again in his mind until he no longer had the energy to continue.

Ciel fell asleep shortly before they arrived at the manor; it was half past one o'clock. Sebastian carried his little contractor to his bed chambers and dressed him for bed carefully as to not rouse the child from sleep. He laid his master gently onto silken duvets and stuffed pillows, blowing out the flames of the candelabra and leaving the boy to rest till morning. As the demon returned to his own quarters he prepared himself for the inevitable tantrum that his sleep-deprived master would throw when he woke and wondered if it would be worth letting the boy rest till noon to avoid it; he decided against it, knowing all too well that that would only anger the boy further. The devil wasn't particularly interested in this newest mission and he hoped that it would be over soon. I can offer you far more interesting things to consider, my lord.

My precious lord, sleep well. There is much to do and I imagine that you are aware that I still expect you to attend your lessons and meetings. A proper nobleman should always manage his time well and be able to tackle many different obstacles at once. You seem quite interested in this case - I hope you do not let it stray your mind too far away from me. Oh, and little lord, cruel as it may seem, I will delay your much-needed rest even further if we do not find the time to attend to my … needs - just a word of warning. Goodnight, young master.