Disclaimer: Didn't own it then, don't own it now.

Author's Note: This is Lessa's fault. When a police car drove by us the other day, she told me it was 'cause of something Sebastian had done. Not only did she lie to me, but she filled my head with plot bunnies! She's the worst. (Just kidding. I love you, Lessa. X3)

Warnings: Non-AU. Mild SebaxCiel-ness. I don't think this ficlet gives this idea justice, to be honest, but I really just wanted it out of my head. XD;;;

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Old Habits

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There was blood.

It caked the worn concrete and had painted the back alley walls. It clumped onto soggy autumn foliage and gummed the sewer grates. It shone like dull rubies on the already-red bricks, bathed in the misty glow of the golden flood lights. And even now, it continued to flow: dribbling over the milky curb and trickling as rain from the hanging fire escapes, falling to a steady, soothing rhythm of drip… drip… drip…

The child's breathing matched the cadence.

"…so this is what we do, Sebastian?"

From the center of the scarlet, a black-clad butler turned. Slowly, calmly, like so much oozing life. He smiled angelically at his companion, bowing as he licked his flecked lips.

"This is what you do, young master."

The small teen considered this, stuffing delicate hands into Levi jeans. "And why do I do this?"

"Because this man—" he gestured grandly at the mutilated carcass between his spread feet— "killed your family."

"Oh?" The child sneered, amused. Carefully sidestepped another wave of crimson, lest it stain white trainers. "That's funny. Because I distinctly remember my family being alive this morning when I left for school."

Sebastian chuckled, tea-colored eyes blossoming like a rose. "Your other family, young master. Your old family." With a final, elegant trampling, the self-proclaimed demon began a lazy saunter towards his cohort, leaving the corpse to rot.

A snort. "You seriously expect me to believe that I'm the reincarnation of some dead count?"

The devil beamed. "Most definitely, I do. You will soon realize, young master, that I am not like humans; I do not lie. I tell you, you are the Earl of Phantomhive, and I am but your humble servant." A flutter of fingers; a tilt of the head.

Sebastian's audience remained unimpressed. "Alright. Let's pretend, for a moment, that you're telling me the truth. How would you know for certain that I'm this earl you say I am?" the child inquired incredulously, crossing stubborn arms.

The demon grinned again—a long, sharp, toothy leer that nearly split his face in two. "Because I own your soul, my lord. And as such, I am the one who commissioned your reincarnation. A devil has nothing but his aesthetics, remember? A few of the men who you desired revenge upon had families we'd been previously unaware of… One should never leave a job half-done, I like to say. And a contract should never go unfulfilled."

The skeptical stare remained. "I still don't really believe you. The only reason I followed you here is because you promised me a good show."

"And wasn't it?"

"I've seen better on the telly."

The devil smirked, gaze shimmering all the brighter in the wake of his contractor's insolence. As was his wont, he fell into a subservient bow: kneeling in the burgundy pools with a white kid glove pressed to his breast. "I will do better next time, my lord."

A dull, but acknowledging, hum. "And another thing," the child groused, waving a commanding hand; Sebastian understood the gesture, rose, and obediently scooped the adolescent into his arms. These were new clothes, after all... "Why do you keep calling me 'my lord' and 'young master?'"

"Is that a problem, my lord?"

The sapphire-eyed teen glowered in the wake of Sebastian's confusion. "Well, it's fairly obvious that I'm a girl."

A double-blink. …oh, yes.

The demon smiled beguilingly at the annoyed young woman, kissing the coiling tip of a curl of cloud-gray hair. In the twilight distance, police sirens began to scream; her pale skin and round eyes were all the lovelier in the oncoming whirls of blue and red light. Pity they had to leave now— he'd have enjoyed teaching her about the extent of his and his previous master's… 'bond.'

But then, there's always later. Garnet-colored eyes glittered with memories, premonitions, and unspoken laughter.

"Forgive me, young mistress," the cooing butler purred, breathing directly into the girl's pinking ear. "Old habits die hard."

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