Night fell over London like a wet sheet left out to dry in the crisp, cold air. As the skies turned dark, rain clouds rolled in, bringing with them light, drizzling showers that flooded the ground and cleansed it of dust and debris. The biting gusts of wind that would occasionally drift through whispered promises of the oncoming winter, of pale snow, and of death.

Among the hiss of rain hitting the ground, it was nearly impossible to hear the clack of red and black heels against the rooftops, or the occasional laugh of the madman wearing them.

"Ahhh, I'm so wet! Why in heaven did that cruel, cruel Will have to assign me reaps in the rain?!"

The plea was hardly out of frustration. It seemed more like the redhead simply enjoyed the sound of his voice, and was amusing himself to compensate for being out alone. Finally, he leaped down, skidding a fair distance in the water, before running into an alleyway. He was nearly late, not that it mattered really. Being almost late, after all, did technically mean that he was on time yet!

He revved his chainsaw scythe and plunged it into the heart of his reap, loving the way blood splattered him as he collected the records.

"Grell Sutcliff… fancy seeing you out here on such a rainy night."

The redhead stiffened, soon glancing up in surprise. Glittering green eyes stared at him through the dark, and he soon gave a soft giggle. "That you, you crazy old man? It's not nice to sneak up on a lady, you know!"

"I didn't sneak up. I've been here the whole time," Undertaker answered as he stepped forward, clearly soaked as well. "I've been asked to bury that man—you know, the one you're reaping—by his wife."

"How sad. She'd be more interesting if she just left him here to waste away," Grell sighed as he yanked his scythe out again. "There will never be a good killer out here again if emotion keeps getting in the way."

"I know, I know, dearie. I imagine you'd like to teach them a thing or two," Undertaker giggled as he moved to pick up the corpse, lifting it on to his back and letting dead arms fall around his shoulders. "I've some interesting news for you, but you must promise not to tell William, lest the weight I've been carrying snaps my neck," he said as gave Grell a wise, full grin.

"I don't tell secrets," the redhead said with a pout. "What is it?"

"Come back to my shop, we'll speak there," Undertaker answered as he started to walk off, lugging the corpse with him. Grell followed, a bit confused but curious nonetheless.

Hisssss, went the rain.

At last, they reached Undertaker's humble funeral home, and the mortician opened the door for them with a soft, welcoming cry from the little bell overhead. As they stepped inside, Grell wrinkled his nose. "It's foul in here, Undertaker."

"Sorry about that. Got a few leaks that I gotta get fixed," Undertaker sighed. He carried the body downstairs, soon returning and adding, a bit late, "Ah, and I dropped a preserved liver right there earlier today, where you're standing."

Grell shrieked and immediately leaped away from the spot, frowning when Undertaker burst out laughing and fell over. "You crazy loon, I knew that they'd made a mistake when they let you off the hook…! Now I'll reek of this for days—!"

"I w-was just kidding you, dearie," Undertaker cackled. "Just- pff hahahaha! I just needed a laugh, is all!"

"Honestly, inviting a woman into your shop only to do that… you're the worst," Grell said, folding his arms and pouting as he turned away from Undertaker.

"Ahh, but it was worth it," Undertaker snickered as he got back up to his feet, leaning against the counter for desperately-needed support.

"Well, now that you've made an arse of yourself, go ahead and tell me what you were going to tell me," Grell replied in a tone dry enough to take the mist out of the air.

Undertaker's chuckles faded to a couple weak snorts, before he finally spoke, "I do believe Sebastian Michaelis has returned to London."

"What, already?" Grell gasped, giving an excited grin. "I thought he wouldn't come back for at least a few contracts! I suppose he just had to come back to see me though," he giggled, winking. "Poor baby, he'll be so disappointed when he realizes just how busy I am."

"I'm sure he will be," Undertaker agreed with a chuckle. "But that being said… I'd like to ask a favor of you, regarding him,"

"Oh, goodness, the great Undertaker needs to ask a favor of little ol' me? Oh, I might faint, darling!" Grell cooed, rolling his eyes a bit. Undertaker might have once been great, and even greater as a deserter and wanted man, but as of right now, he was hardly anything. A coward who'd given up on his dreams…

The older male gave a knowing smile, before saying, "I want you to figure out what the chap's up to, that's all. In secret, of course—I can only imagine how Will would react to him being back."

"Talk to Sebastian… keep secrets from Will…" Grell tapped his lower lip as he thought it out for a bit, before he grinned. "Well, I won't lie, it sounds fun, but you haven't given me much of a reason to come to you to gossip over what Sebby's up to…"

"I trust you to tell me if it's bad," Undertaker answered. "After all, you're a very wise lady, even if you can be… impulsive," he giggled.

"Such a sly thing you are. Fine, since you practically begged me, I will keep tabs on Sebby," Grell agreed, giving a nod and suppressing any pride at the compliment. From Undertaker, it hardly meant a thing, after all. Damned coward...

"Thank you, dearie," Undertaker said with a grin. "I'll let you get back to work, then."

Grell glanced outside at the pouring rain, soon giving a sigh. "Right, work," he murmured regretfully. "Have fun with your corpses, darling."

"Will do, ehehehe," Undertaker giggled, waving, his oversized sleeve flapping as he did so, and watching as the door to his shop swung shut and his rusty little bell gave another ring.

"Try not to trigger visibility to mortals. Such a thing would only be a nuisance," Sebastian stated. "I will go try to find a hideout for us, so get to work."

Claude nodded, before striding away, and Sebastian began to move as well, running through London with ease and grace. The rain that plummeted heavily from the sky did little to slow him—same with the howling wind and the slicked ground upon which he raced. However, when sensitive ears picked up a noise that would otherwise be lost in the violent rain, Sebastian skidded to a stop and turned sharply, eyes wide.

Yes, there she was.

He remembered her from his contract. Ah, how the rain did abuse her gentle black hair, how her bright amber eyes were now dim with sorrow and fear…

Sebastian swallowed, seeing the cat scratch persistently against a door, another pathetic meow of despair escaping it. It was the very same cat he had cared for at the Phantomhive household, which of course didn't matter because sentiment was useless, but alas, it was a cat.

"I suppose I have no choice," Sebastian sighed, eyebrows furrowed as he stepped forward, soon reaching down and picking the wet body up in his arms. "You will join Claude Faustus and I in hunting the reapers," he told the cat, who looked at him in surprise, as he'd not been visible before, and meowed again. "Yes, I know." The demon was trying ever-so-hard not to grin. "You will be a brave warrior." He opened his jacket and tucked the cat inside to help it keep from getting any wetter, soon starting to continue along the road at a much less neck-breaking yet still brisk pace.

His affinity for cats was his tragic flaw, really. Had he been just a touch less captivated, he might have been able to leave London in time.

Grell heaved a soft sigh as he finished his last reap for the night, soon reaching up to brush a lock of drenched red hair out of his face. Glancing up with water dotting his glasses, he gave a small grin. The moon was starting to peer out from behind the clouds—come on darling, don't be shy now—and hopefully, that meant the rain would stop soon. It already felt a bit lighter, at least.

Leaving the body of the man behind, Grell leaped back up atop a roof, scanning the streets. Barren, empty, not a soul in sight… just water and wind.

And yet…

He could hear it. Though it was faint, it was definitely there. The slosh of footfalls on the flooded street echoed just louder than the abating rain, barely enough to be detected. With a graceful leap in the direction of the noise, Grell soon spotted a man soaked to the bone, wearing a dashing suit which he had pulled tight around himself. It wouldn't take a supervisor to recognize that the man wasn't human: though his scent was masked by the precipitation, the man bore no trace of a mortal soul.

And though a rookie might take him for a reaper, Grell was no rookie, and he knew that the only reaper out on the streets of London tonight was himself. Had Alan not had that attack earlier, maybe Grell would be able to buy this, but since he did…

Another leap, a flip in the air, and Grell landed before Sebastian like a cardinal, grinning toothily at him and cocking a hip. "Hey there, handsome. Remember me?"

Dark eyes flashed red. "Grell," the demon acknowledged as he damned his luck.

"Oh, I knew you'd remember my name," Grell chuckled, slipping up beside Sebastian and laying a hand against his shoulder. "And you're lucky, I just got off work~"

"Lucky me, indeed," Sebastian answered as he forced a smile to his face. The cat hidden in his jacket was currently digging its claws into his right pec. "Unfortunately, I was leaving."

"Off so soon? You know, I was surprised to hear you'd come back," Grell murmured. Sebastian glanced to him, and Grell continued, "I mean, Ronald said you'd just finished a contract, so I figured you'd be in Hell awhile…"

Sebastian swallowed his questions, not wanting to raise suspicion. This was bad, but it could be worse; he simply had to play it safe and hope that Grell would buy a good story; after all, the red reaper didn't seem to know of the betrayal his dear William had taken part in. "You don't know?" he asked, baiting the trap as he started walking again.

"Don't know what?"

There, a nibble.

"About what a demon does after a contract, of course," Sebastian chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder, soon continuing to walk. "We don't get many chances to relax, after all."

Grell began to follow the demon, curiosity piqued. "What do you do? Go on, then, spit it out," he protested. "It's rude to walk away from a lady!"

"Well-," Sebastian adjusted the cat in his arms, who had taken to sinking those pearly whites into his shoulder. "We—take a vacation, of course."

"Vacation!"

"Yes, vacation." Sebastian almost sounded like he could convince himself. "Contracting is exhausting, and any demon, even one such as myself, would want the chance to relax after one. Now, most demons prefer to stay at home, but I have grown rather fond of the mortal world, after all I just spent four years in it. This is nearly more familiar than Hell…"

That prompted Grell to giggle. "Oh, darling, you flatter me, really."

It was only sprinkling now as the clouds parted from the moon and bathed the pair in light.

"So, essentially, I am here for nothing more than a bit of fun," Sebastian sighed. "Unfortunately, the old mansion is no-doubt being run by headache-inducing servants, so that won't be a possible vacation home for me."

"Well, you better find a place to stay fast," Grell sighed. "My darling Will would lose his head to find you out here, you know. He absolutely loathes demons who aren't under contract."

"So I'd imagine," Sebastian muttered. "I don't suppose you have anywhere in mind?"

Grell hummed. "Weeeellll, I do suppose I could lend you a hand… after all, the late Madam Red had a number of vacation homes, of which I saw more than anybody else," he declared, grinning at Sebastian. "But I would of course want something in return… Perhaps that special touch that only you can offer?" he husked, leaning in close.

Sebastian gasped as the cat he hid in his jacket finally couldn't take it any longer, hissing as it clawed its way out and pounced on Grell, giving the redhead a good few strikes with its paws before it ran off into the night. The demon gave a sad sigh. How truly fickle cats were, even to their own saviors. It would've been nice to have a companion in the mortal realm, but…

Grell pouted as he reached up to touch his face, which had started to bleed. "Sebby, you're so ruthless!" he said finally. "Going straight for the face—I mean, meow to you, too, but…"

"Apologies. I will do as you asked now," Sebastian answered, before sweeping a leg out gracefully and nailing Grell in the side. The redhead yelped sharply as he was sent into a nearby wall, and Sebastian gave a sigh and stretched, back cracking. "Hmph. I'm out of practice," he muttered.

Grell picked himself up again, grinning manically. "Ah, darling, you know me so well…," he purred as he walked back to Sebastian. "Perhaps one more for good measure~?" he asked as he squirmed a bit, grinning.

"No, I think you've had enough," Sebastian replied simply, and Grell chuckled, cheeks pink. "Will you take me to one of these homes now? I don't have time to waste," he whispered.

"Mmmm… fine, fine," Grell agreed finally, before running off, heels clacking against the stony ground. "Chase me, darling~!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but followed. If he could find a safe place for himself and Claude to regroup to without relying on Charon, then it would be worth it.

And the rain stopped entirely.