Chapter 1 In the Dark of Night

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler).

Alright, I'm putting an end to my writer's block and will post this. But, one little warning about this new story. It is weird and has a CRAZY pairing, I mean, it is REALLY out there, and, trust me, I write a LOT of out there pairings, but this one takes the cake. *coughs* It is an Undertaker x Madame Red. Yeah, wtf, right? Yeah, blame it on my friend, she requested this. XD :D But, I PROMISE that I'll make it awesome. Anyways, hope you like it.

Madame Red stood staring at her husband's gravestone, a bleak and hollow look in her eyes as her hand trailed to her stomach. She felt numb and empty, for she had had everything, and then she had lost it all. Everything she had wanted crumbled in front of her.

She lost her husband, she lost any possibility of a child, she lost her sister, and her real true love. She lost everything, and now she was left to live with the pain. Her sister had, in reality in a way, taken everything from her. If only Vincent had loved her! Then none of this would have happened.

Tears fell down her cheeks silently, her hand knotting in the folds of her dress. She remained standing in such a way for the longest time, and eventually she felt a large wet drop hit her forehead, she knew it wasn't her tears, but the clouds, and yet, she still didn't move. If she became ill then perhaps her own heart would stop beating and she would no longer live a life such as this. A life without another being with her.

It wasn't until the sound of someone else's voice entered her mind did she move.

"Are you alright, Madame~?"

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of the voice. It was startling familiar, for she had heard it before, but the memory of where from was just a blur of pain and tears. She focused her blurry vision on the speaker, her eyes widening in surprise slightly as she was met with the sight of a curious looking mortician.

He had long silver hair with bangs that cover his eyes and a black top hat with a long trailing tail. He wore black robes with a gray sash that strapped across his chest that knotted by the hips. A string of lockets shone with a bright silver light, making a clinking sound as they bumped against each other, like wind chimes in a soft breeze. She was able to make out the obvious shine of his black leather boots.

She gazed at him for a few moments, saying nothing until he tilted his head, a grin spreading across his face. Feeling unnerved by his look she began to speak, almost somewhat quickly. "Y-Yes, I-I'm fine…" He chuckled in answer, holding up a finger.

"Don't you lie, what fine noble woman stands in the rain, crying?"

Madame Red opened her mouth, but slowly and quietly shut it, her gaze moving elsewhere as he sense of pain returned, her hands once again resting on her stomach. She gazed blankly at everything and nothing, not wanting to reveal to the strange man what was wrong.

The silver haired man allowed his smile to lessen, letting it seem as if he was troubled by her depressed state. He gazed at the red clad woman for a few more moments before he realized just who exactly she was, and he chuckled with glee.

"Oh, I do know you! The 'Lady Red' whose sister, Rachel Phantomhive, and brother-in-law, Vincent Phantomhive, recently died in a fire. Your husband died-"

Madame Red, distressed by his revealing of her fresh wounds, interrupted in a more harsh tone then she intended. "Yes! I am that woman, Angelina Durless!" She had her eyes closed and her hands clenched, her gestures a mixture of both pain and anger.

The man was surprised by her reaction at first, but smiled after a little while, gesturing with his hands. "You may just call me the Undertaker. Now…" He held out his hand, allowing the light rain to hit his upward facing palm before looking back to her.

"I may not be the worst weather to stand outside in, but I believe it'll get worse before long. My shop isn't too far from here, m'dear. Perhaps you should come to warm up and wait this out?"

Madame Red was really paying attention to the man, lost in her own sorrow she simply nodded. He gently touched her elbow, guiding her out of the graveyard. She threw a backwards glance as he husband's headstone moved out of the way, her fingers running over her flat stomach gently, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Undertaker guided her to his shop with no trouble, making sure she didn't trip or run into something in her trance like state, only relaxing and letting go of her once they were both safely inside of the rather morbid place.

He grinned ear from ear as she instantly, without even a second thought, sat on one of the coffins. She didn't even think about the choice, acting as if sitting on it was natural! He found this woman very interesting indeed; her life was certainly filled with death and pain. He looked to her, examining her distant, numb attitude, and the blank look in her eyes.

But what really caught his eye was how she ran her fingers over her stomach, just like an expecting woman would do to comfort her unborn baby.

He began to think about this as he started up both the fire, then moving to the tea which he started. Madame Red didn't pay much attention to him, her gaze flicking to the fire, causing her ruby eyes to glow like fire themselves. Undertaker grinned to himself, seeing something secretly or soon to be kindled within her.

And it wasn't a child for sure.

He saw a killer.

Tapping his nails to a tune only he could hear he spoke, trying to get her to talk. "Well, Madame, do you like Earl Gray? I do hope so, since that is the only type I have. Sugar for your tea?" She didn't say anything, only nodding yes to his questions, still staring blankly. This annoyed him but he didn't try again, pouring the tea into a cup and adding a sugar cube before approaching her.

He held out the tea for her, but she was still staring at the fire, tears in her eyes, her fingers still gently rubbing her stomach. He raised an eyebrow, setting the tea down beside her, standing straight once again before taking a couple of steps back, watching her.

"Pardon me, Miss Angelina, but… are you… pregnant?"

Her hand stiffened, and the blank look left her eyes, her hand jerking away from her stomach as she shook slightly. She averted her gaze so that he couldn't see a thing, her body still shaking from what appeared to be both pain and grief.

"N-No… I was, b-but not a-anymore… I l-lost both my c-child and my a-ability to h-have a b-b-baby…"

Undertaker's hidden eyes widened underneath his bangs, his own sense of pain flooding his body as he stepped forwards, grabbing her hand gently as if on impulse. "I… I'm very sorry, Madame Red… I-I didn't know…" He tilted his head, his bangs slipping over and away from his eyes, and she turned her head to meet his gaze. She was surprised to see the same pain she felt in his eyes bright green-gold eyes, and she began to wonder if there was more to the man then being a mortician. But still, her wondering mind couldn't keep her tears from falling.

With a gentle touch with his index finger he wiped the tears away, careful of the long dark nail. "Shhh… Please, no tears, Madame, please…" With a shaky breath and a gaze that wouldn't meet hers he spoke something very softly.

"I know how it feels, to lose that precious little life…"

She sniffled and gazed at him, wishing he'd wrapped his arms around her and hold her but didn't say anything, instead getting shakily to her feet. She looked to the door, but to her amazement realized that it was both thundering and raining terribly hard. She frowned and looked to him, speaking in a shaky voice. "I-Is there a place that I could rest here for the night?"

He stood up straight once more, nodding slowly as his bangs fell back into place, his movements slow and thoughtful. "Yes, in the backroom there is a bed. Good night, my fair lady."

She smiled gratefully, but there was obvious pain in her forced smile. She curtsied and left the room, having not even touched her tea.

She looked at the bed, which was small and had off-white blankets and a pillow, but looked comfy. Without undressing she laid down in the bed, blowing out the candle on the table beside the bed, and quietly cried herself to sleep.

Meanwhile, Undertaker remained awake sitting by the fire, thinking about the lovely woman he had found and taken in and about all she had lost, and all he had lost over the years. He realized that this delicate rose, was still developing her thorns.

Yes, I know, weird pairing, but I hope you guys like it and PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE go check out my other new stories! Their names are 'Our Little Leverets' (rated-M ((yes, I'm aware of the sucky lemon, but it was my FIRST, okay!?)) and has M-preg) and my other story 'Every Rose Has It's Thorn (rated-T... maybe M-preg). Review!

-zgirl16