Dear Readers: Hullo, again! Here it is, my second fanfiction. I am going out of my comfort zone with this one by sharing it before it's finished, very unlike how I treated my first story (which I finished writing in mid July but didn't actually publish until mid October- goddamn.) But, here it is. There is a bit of underlying homoerotic content in this story, but it's not what you think, I can assure you. It's in the historical context and not at all in how the characters behave with each other (well, not most of them but... I don't want to give away too much.)

It's not yaoi, or shounen-ai, but because there is a bit of same sex attraction, I thought it would be appropriate to make the reader aware (in the unlikely scenario that there is a person in the Black Butler fandom who is uncomfortable with those genres). But there's nothing explicit, in this story, I promise. Okay. On with it!

"My Dear Boy,

My heart is glad that your sickness has finally let up and you are able to return to us. Your influence has been sorely missed, in more ways than one, I am afraid. It appears as though we have another mess on our hands. As I am sure I have mentioned once before in our communications, my niece's nephew, Richard, is a singer for a penny theatre. It will be going on four years now that he since abdicated his duties as a royal to pursue his dream to be a great performer. In those four years, my niece and her husband have on numerous occasions attempted to dissuade him from his chosen profession (though if it may be said, I have always encouraged him in his pursuits, being a lover of theatre myself), but he has remained stubborn as ever. This week past, when again the guardians reached out to their child, they found him to be gone- vanished, having last been seen in his dressing room. It has been relayed to me that all of the theatre's entrances had been locked and there were no apparent signs of break-in or struggle. To add to this oddity, all of the actors and musicians were on the stage at the time. The stage hands are the only ones who are currently suspected, and have been in prison since the disappearance. Richard has not been the only victim, either. Indeed, there have been several other stage actors who have fallen prey to this fiend's invisible hands. As I have said, Ciel, I hate to request your services when you have only just recovered your good health, but... you know how the Yard can be.

Sincerely,

Victoria

P.S. Make sure to rest and eat plenty of broth soup."

"If I eat anymore broth soup, my blood is going to turn into chicken stock," Ciel commented.

Sebastian paused while he poured the tea. "Beg pardon, my Lord?" he asked.

"Nothing." Ciel folded up the letter. "It appears that the Queen's great nephew is the newest victim of the Stage Prowler."

Sebastian nodded. "I saw the headline in this morning's paper. I thought I recognised the name." He handed the teacup off to Ciel. "So, I assume that Her Majesty entreats the Young Master to investigate these disappearances."

"Yes. It seems an odd thing," Ciel said. "Not her orders, but the nature of the crimes. There obviously is a very specific target, but for what reason? The theatre has always been seen as improper and those who perform within it are thought of as even worse. It is a bit like the underground revolting against itself."

"I would agree that the connecting thread strikes me as odd," said Sebastian, "but I believe that in recent years theatre has created a clear divide amongst the public. Not all play houses are created equal and the same goes for the audience."

"That is what is even stranger," said Ciel. "I have along with the letter been given a list of the names of the abducted. They were all members of grimy little penny theatres. None being of any kind of notoriety. I also noticed that they are all male and quite young."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. "How young?"

"The oldest is eighteen," Ciel answered. "The youngest is thirteen." He handed the list to the Butler. "One Abrahm Myles from the Ice Block."

Sebastian studied the names. "I see that their positions have also been included."

"Yes, they have. All second string. Understudies, chorus singers, Villager No. 4. You get the picture." Ciel drank his tea. It was a tippy* and incredibly delicate jasmine Silver Needle, crisp and sweetly floral.

"I would venture the guess that not one of these names was up in lights then."

Ciel laughed. "I doubt it if their names were even in the programmes."

"So what are you thinking?" Sebastian asked. "That they went off on their own to seek fame elsewhere?"

"Considering the fact that they disappeared without a word said to anyone, I don't think they left the theatres on their own," Ciel shrugged, "but instead they were approached by a talent scout of a different sort."

"They did appear to be expendable," Sebastian noted.

"Expendable and desperate."

"You do not believe them to be dead then?"

Ciel shook his head. "Probably not. If it's only a particular sort of person missing, it is safe to say that they are being used for that particular skill."

"But of course there is a reason why this new show must remain secret."

"Exactly."

"How then do you plan on locating the kidnapped and, consequently, the perpetrator?" asked the Butler.

"I may as well avoid the lengthy process of speaking with the Yard," Ciel yawned, "and skip right to infiltration."

Sebastian chuckled. "Quite bold of you, sir. And what acting skills do you possess that would cause a theatre to be interested in recruiting you?"

"None," Ciel said, "but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that these boys did not have much to offer either; save their enthusiasm and big dreams."

"Well, if the Young Master can successfully imitate either emotion, perhaps he is worthy of belonging to an acting company."

"I'll need you to gather together a list of all the penny theatres in London," Ciel said while glaring at the Butler. "Find out which of them have the fewest members and of those, which appear the most likely to take on children."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

*Small, unopened buds of a tea plant. These are very high quality and reserved for the finest of brews.

And so it begins. We're getting right to it with this one, tender lumplings!