De Morte ad Vitam

An Undertaker/Vincent RP (Co-writer: Stickiebun)

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. We make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 4

~xox~

"So what kind of food do you like for dinner? I only really know what you normally have for lunch, so…" The blond shrugged, holding the door for William.

"I think I'm in the mood for Japanese fare," answered the taller man as he passed through the doorway. He shrugged into his jacket and locked his office door behind them. "There is a place a few blocks from here that I sometimes dine at. Would that be acceptable to you?"

"Sure, as long as they offer forks. I suck at using those sticks. That's no way to pick up food!" Ronald said, tapping his finger and thumb together, "I can't seem to ever get them to pick up food."

William hid a smirk. "Yes, they offer forks and training chopsticks for those who aren't familiar with the traditional eating utensils. You may find it easier than you imagine to use theirs, however, with the proper tutelage."

His tone indicated that he intended to teach him how to handle chopsticks, and William T. Spears did not half-step when it came to training people.

"But it's more satisfying to stab your food before eating…why only pinch it?" The blond shrugged, skipping forward a few steps to press the button to summon the lift.

"Because chopsticks are more elegant," William tried to explain, "more civilized. Are you a gentleman or a troglodyte, Ronald?"

The elevator door opened and William stuck his scythe out, holding it for Ronald to go in first. "After you."

"I guess I'm a troglodyte, then." Ronald shrugged, slipping into the lift, "I like stabbing things to make sure they're dead before I eat them."

"Barbarian." William sniffed disdainfully, but there was a faint hint of a teasing sparkle in his eyes. "However will I civilize you, Ronald Knox?"

He deliberately leaned closer to the blond to push the button to the floor they needed, brushing against him in passing.

"Good luck with that. Knox big dumb caveman. Stabby da food critters." Ronald snickered, "Come on, Nothing wrong with using a fork. Even the queen of England uses forks."

William nodded. "Yes, but I daresay she uses them with far more grace than you. I've seen you eat. There will be no speaking with your mouth full at our table tonight, Knox. No burping without covering your mouth either, and for pity's sake, don't plant your elbows on the table the way I so often see you do in the cafeteria."

"Now ya sound like my mother." Ron sighed, "Nothing wrong with enjoying a meal…and I don't burp." The lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened, letting the two reapers out on the main floor.

"Actually while we are on the subject," William said as they passed through the lobby, "In some cultures, it is considered a compliment to the chef to burp after a meal. You may not be so uncultured after all, Ronald."

He smirked sidelong at him…just barely. He nodded in greeting to other agents as they passed through the area and to the expansive doors leading out. "I suppose some moderate expression of gratitude for a meal could be acceptable."

He hailed a taxi, and the shiny chrome automobile pulled up on the curb for them. Humans still had quite a ways to go before they mastered such vehicles, but the Shinigami realm was ahead of them. He cordially opened the passenger door for his companion and gestured for Ronald to get in first. When he did, he slid in beside him and gave the driver directions. He found himself relaxing a little for the first time in months…itruly/i relaxing. He wondered how the night would play out, and he hoped that he wouldn't lose his composure and do something foolish in his exhaustion.

~xox~

Undertaker awoke from his latest drug-induced haze when someone slapped him rudely on both cheeks. "Nunh…stop that now. M' awake."

He squinted against the dim light, trying to bring the blurred figure hovering over him into focus. He forced a grin, trying to appear chipper despite the hopelessness he felt in his breast. "So you must be preparing to transfer me to the prison."

"Not quite, old friend."

Recognizing the voice, the mortician frowned. "Anderson?"

The blurred figure nodded. "You recognize my voice. Good. We haven't much time, so be quiet and—"

"How did you get in here to see me?" He was feeling the effects of the medication leaving him. "What did you—"

"That isn't being quiet," admonished the head of the Glasses Division, his voice hushed. "For God's sake, man, stop chattering for once and pay attention."

The captive ancient's senses perked up like a dog's ear's. "I'm listening, chap. What's happening?"

"I'm repaying a debt," answered Lawrence Anderson.

~xox~

William took his seat on the cushion at the traditional Japanese low table they were shown to, and he gestured for his companion to join him. "Bring a flask of warm sake to start," he instructed the waiter, "and we'll have some fried pickles while we decide on our entree. Ronald, would you like anything else as a beverage or appetizer?"

Ronald shook his head as he sat down, crossing his legs as he got comfortable, "Those are fine." he picked up the menu and opened it, "Oh good! English! I went to a French place once with Grell-senpai and it was all in French and Grell had to read the whole menu to me…he read it as if it was a child's bedtime story…"

William nearly snorted. He could easily imagine Sutcliff putting on a show like that. "Fortunately, you won't have to endure that with me. Take your time."

The waiter returned with the Sake and cups, and he poured a serving for both of them before bowing and taking his leave, reminding them to call on him if they needed anything else. William thanked him and returned his attention to the menu. "The sashimi here is quite good, if you enjoy that sort of thing."

Beyond hungry now, he sipped his drink and grimaced as he felt it burn all the way down. Perhaps he should have started with tea instead of sake, since he hadn't eaten all day long. The last thing he wanted was to pass out and end up with Ronald playing nursemaid to him again. He set the drink down and decided to ask for water when the waiter returned with their appetizers…just in case.

"Yeah, well, you are more mature than he is, and you are practically the only one in the office that treats me as an adult…" Ronald said, scanning over the menu, "Even the secretaries that want in my pants baby me…hate being the youngest…"

William nearly dropped his menu at the mention of other people trying to get down Ronald's pants…though it really didn't come as a surprise to him. The blond could be cocky and impulsive, but he was a good worker and he was—at times—utterly charming.

"Well, it isn't in my nature to 'baby' anyone," he said as evenly as possible, keeping his eyes carefully glued to the menu. He stared at the same menu thrice without even comprehending the words, though he knew it by heart now. He risked a glance up from the menu at his companion and he found that Ronald was poking the tip of his tongue out the left corner of his mouth in thought. He wanted to reach across the table and pinch it for reasons that had nothing to do with chastising him about proper behavior.

For a lack of anything else intelligent to say, he announced his choice without really even seeing it before his eyes. "I think I'll choose the sashimi medley with a side of the house salad."

The waiter had just returned and he hadn't even set down the pickles before William made his choice. He bowed at the supervisor, and then he looked at Ronald questioningly. "And for your companion?"

"Crap, you already know what you want? Uh…I guess I'll try that." Ron said, pointing to a item on the menu that had earlier caught his attention, "Please."

The waiter looked at it and nodded. "Good choice. Will there be any dessert, or would you like to look at the menus again after your meal?"

Feeling particularly famished now that he was in a dining venue, the answer was easy for William. "Fried ice cream for me. Ronald?"

"I'll…get back to ya on that." Ronald said, not knowing anything on the dessert menu yet, and not knowing how filling his meal would be.

"Very well." William gathered the menus and handed them over to the server. When the man left, he poured some warm sake for himself and his companion. "You should try it, Ronald. It's quite nice…a bit like tea."

"I'm getting to it. I was distracted by food choices." Ronald shrugged, picking up his cup and taking a sip, "And I have tried this stuff before. If it has alcohol, I've tried it."

"I might have known." William sipped his own sake and he held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, rolling his tongue around to savor the taste.

After swallowing, he gazed at Ronald quietly for a moment before offering some gratitude. "I really don't get out often enough to enjoy this. I…appreciate your considerate suggestion, Knox."

"You work too much. Breaks are healthy." Ron shrugged, "I'd like to see you stress less, and this was the only thing I could think of."

"So long as I don't get into the habit of slacking," answered the supervisor. He lifted his cup to the blond. "Cheers, Ronald."

"You work too much. Breaks are healthy." Ron shrugged, "I'd like to see you stress less, and this was the only thing I could think of."

William lowered his gaze and shrugged fluidly. He took so much pride in his work that he sometimes forgot to slow down and enjoy little moments like this. His coworkers generally saw him as a cold, unfeeling automation that had no personal life outside his office. Perhaps they weren't entirely wrong about that, but right now he had the company of an engaging, attractive young man and a nice meal to look forward to. It was the little things that made his hard work worth the effort, and he intended to enjoy this night while it lasted.

As he sipped his beverage and began to feel the subtle effects of the alcohol, he covertly studied his companion and a most unprofessional plan began to take form in his mind. He was always the one following the rules, never doing anything that might cause a scandal or arouse gasps of shock from his fellows. Maybe it was time to see if he could make Ronald gasp…just a bit.

~xox~

Undertaker peeked around the corner of the building, absently rubbing his smarting wrist. His injuries pained him, but he wasn't about to complain when his path of freedom was open to him. Not one to hesitate when an opportunity came along, he looked back at his friend, standing in the shadows behind him. He smiled broadly and stuck out his uninjured hand for a goodbye shake, and Lawrence took it and smiled quietly back.

"Thanks, old chap," murmured the ancient. "I owe you one for this."

Anderson shook his gray-streaked head. "No, this makes us even. If you get caught again and mention my assistance, you know I'll deny it vehemently."

The mortician chuckled. "I've no doubt of that. You needn't worry, though. I'm not in the habit of tossing the people that help me under the carriage…especially very old friends."

Lawrence sighed. "I would try to convince you to abandon this plan of yours, if I thought it would make any difference. You're too bloody stubborn to bother, though."

The Undertaker nodded. "Right-o. You know how important this is to me. I hope you understand why I can't acquiesce your desires, my friend."

"I do." Lawrence nodded. "I've loved and lost myself, and I know how the pain can drive a man to do reckless things. For what it's worth, I wish you the best of luck, Khronos. I don't agree with what you're trying to do, but I understand why you're doing it. Now make yourself disappear from this place, while you still can."

Undertaker smiled warmly at him—the sort of smile he reserved for the few in his life whom he genuinely loved. "When this is over, I'll be in touch. I'd like to at least treat you to a nice dinner sometime. Cheerio, Pops."

He made a hat-tipping gesture at the other reaper, though his head was bare. Checking his borrowed garments, he tucked his hair down the back of his jacket and wrapped the scarf up around his neck. Thankfully the season was right for warm, concealing clothing and nobody would question why he was bundled up. He put on the glasses provided to him by Anderson after brushing his bangs back from his eyes and donning the fedora hat, and he blinked in shock when the world suddenly came into sharp focus.

"Goodness, I'd quite forgotten what it was like to see the bark on the trees from this distance," he whispered, eyes wide behind the lenses of the new spectacles. They were rather plain; not like his original glasses at all. Wire framed and rectangular, they didn't draw much attention. He hadn't expected them to be functional, though. He'd expected Lawrence to give him demonstration lenses. He looked at his old friend with mild surprise.

Lawrence smirked in satisfaction. "I'm quite sure you need something stronger by now to obtain 20/20 vision, but your last known prescription should suffice. Don't worry; I did not install a tracer in them. It wouldn't make sense for me to help you escape, just to give you something they could track you with."

Undertaker grinned. "Can't say I'll make regular use of them since I've gotten so used to blind fighting, but these will certainly help me enjoy a show now and then. It'll be nice to actually isee/i the actors on the stage or sit further than the front row when they play the films, now and then. Thank you."

Anderson nodded eloquently. "My pleasure, old friend. Good luck to you."

He watched for a moment as the Undertaker walked away, strolling casually out into the open like any reaper going about his daily business. With his attire, his bangs held back and the hat and scarf masking some of his features, he probably wouldn't be recognized by anyone he passed…provided they weren't specifically looking for him. He hoped the mad old eccentric would have the sense to avoid any Dispatch agents on his way out of the realm, or at least give them a wide berth. With a sigh, he took another route and he hoped his friend would make it back to the mortal plane safely. He'd done what he could for him, and it was up to Khronos now.

~xox~

After enjoying a tasty meal, dessert came and William allowed Ronald to have a taste of his before choosing his own. The blond took a liking to the fried ice cream and he decided to order the same. Feeling relatively relaxed, he chatted with Ronald as they enjoyed the final treat and he tipped the waiter generously, seeing as Knox insisted on paying for the meal. They left the restaurant and went to the lounge William fancied, after that. The administrator smirked when Ronald expressed some insecurity as they stepped onto the dance floor.

"I'll lead," he offered, extending his hand. They weren't the only same-gender pair on the floor; Shinigami tended not to fret over such things, the way the mortals did. Perhaps it was because no two reapers of any gender mix could produce offspring together, and therefore it really didn't matter if two men or two women chose to partner up romantically.

Ronald took his position, placing his hand on William's shoulder, "It's been a really long time since I've danced this way…no hard feelings if I step on your toes? Or loose balance…or forget the steps…" He hadn't been all that great with it to begin with. His best had always been 'acceptable' and at his worst he'd find his dance partner, who back then had been his older cousin, storming off in a huff, cursing his 'two left feet' to hell where they 'belonged'.

Free-style type dancing was much more his style. Not so much the 'drunk grinding' as William had assumed, but still a far cry from any Ballroom type dances.

However, as a human, he had always had to lead as he was a boy. maybe following would help him, and William seemed to know what he was doing as the next song struck up.

"Just relax and follow my lead," advised William calmly. The sake had warmed him and granted him confidence. He started with his left foot, guiding his companion into a simple waltz. Ronald followed gamely and a charming blush suffused his cheeks. He stumbled a little and when he muttered an apology, William shook his head. "Ease into it, Knox. All you need to do is step where I step, and I can do the rest."

Seeing a balcony off to the left at the far end of the dance floor, William began to tactfully steer his dance partner toward it. "Perhaps a less populated area is best to start out with," he suggested, not letting on to his true intentions.

"Huh? I'm not so bad you are afraid I'd embarrass you by stepping on other people's toes, am I?" He asked, watching their feet as they moved.

"I'd be more concerned that you might stumble into another couple," answered William dryly, "but no, you aren't that bad. I simply think you might feel less pressure if we aren't out in the open."

He guided the blond further, keeping up the guise for a while once they were at the edge of the dance floor. "You see?" he murmured. "You seem more confident already."

"Confidence isn't my problem. Execution is." Ronald muttered, following William's lead, "This dance is really slow, as well…I'm used to faster dances."

"You'll adjust to it with practice," assured William. "You've always adapted quickly."

Praise from him was a rarity, but lately he'd found more and more reasons to bestow it upon the young blond. With more training and discipline, Ronald might eventually become a top agent of Dispatch. He wondered if Knox was as quick to learn in the bedroom as he was in the field, and the train of thought led him to toss his reservations out the window and pull his companion off the dance floor and out to the balcony with him. He closed the French doors behind him and looked at Ronald's confused face, hesitating for a moment.

"Sir?" Ronald asked, confused, "…Is this your way of telling me I will have a pay cut or something from lacking in the ability to waltz?"

Rather than explain his actions verbally, William backed the younger reaper up against the balcony railing, put one arm around his waist and cupped the back of his head. He lowered his mouth to his and kissed him, putting all of his previously restrained desire behind it and relishing in the softness of Ronald's lips. When the blond gasped in surprise, William took advantage of the opportunity to plunge his tongue into his mouth, ravishing and dominating Ronald's with a hunger that surprised even William.

Stunned, Ronald stood in the kiss as if under a spell. William was kissing him… William T. Spears was kissing him… His boss, Dispatch Supervisor William T. Spears was kissing him…

Why was this happening..?

No, did it matter why right now?

All at once, Ronald came back to life, sliding his arms around the brunet, pulling his body closer and flush against his own as he pressed back up into the kiss the taller male was bestowing on him. Giving him a taste of his own passion.

William's lust escalated, even as he felt relief that his companion hadn't rejected him. As soon as Ronald's tongue caressed his willingly, he couldn't resist pushing him onto the balustrade and wedging his hips between his thighs. His fingers slid through the darker hair at the base of the blond's neck, before pushing through the longer yellow hair feathering over his brow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been intimate with anyone, and now that he knew Ronald was receptive, all of his hesitation and doubt vanished.

He'd spent his life as a reaper following the rules, putting aside his own desires for the good of the organization and generally ignoring his basic needs. Companionship, the simple pleasures in life…even nourishment when his work load got too heavy. It was time for him to collect his reward. He slid one hand down to Ronald's hip, while cupping the back of his head with the other. The kiss deepened and his desire increased…evident by the bulge forming in his trousers.

"Holy shit, senpai…" Ronald moaned, feeling the bulge in the older reaper's crotch. "Where did all this come from?" he trapped the man against him with arms and legs, not wanting him to pull away again.

William's lips migrated from Ronald's to kiss a heated path down his neck. "I've decided to stop depriving myself of what I want." He accentuated the statement by sliding his hand around from Ronald's hip to cup the blond between his legs, palming the evidence of Ronald's answering lust.

"And…you want me?" Ron asked in surprised. "Damn, I knew the ladies wanted me…had no idea you did…you should have said something sooner, Senpai." He said, grabbed him by the tie and yanked him back against his lips for a moment. "I've fancied you, but thought you had no interest in the idea of dating so I was trying to respect that…but since you are interested…" he pulled him into a kiss once more.

William's heart annoyingly skipped a beat when he heard those uttered words, and Ronald's actions sent it pumping at a quick tempo. He squeezed and fondled the blond's now straining crotch, nibbling his animated lips for a moment before letting his tongue dance against Ronald's. He would normally consider himself too restrained and proper to do something like this; making out with his subordinate on the balcony of a popular lounge. It really wasn't like him at all, but then, he hadn't taken the time to discover who he really was. He wouldn't have guessed he even had such a side to him, and he supposed he could thank the combination of sake and tightly wound emotions for that.

He'd finally captured the fugitive with Ronald's help…his idol. It was difficult to feel relief or accomplishment when those emotions warred with guilt. The Undertaker had forced Dispatch's hand. He knew this, and yet it pained him to be the one responsible for orchestrating his capture. His mind had been on what would eventually happen to the Undertaker, when it wasn't toying with fantasies about Ronald.

"Yes, I want you," he admitted breathlessly, breaking the kiss long enough to say it. Ronald moaned in reaction to his fondling and he crushed his mouth against his again, muffling the sound. His phone began to vibrate and he tried to ignore it. He'd completed his task. The paperwork would be finished and filed by tomorrow afternoon, and then he could contact Ciel to arrange the visit he'd promised him. There was no pressing reason for the office to be calling him right now.

William removed his hand from Ronald's package and he cupped his hips with both hands, grinding himself against him intimately. It was ironic that he'd made the disparaging comment about drunken grinding, and here he was doing that very thing…or close enough to it. He wasn't drunk, but he was pleasantly buzzed from the rice wine and he was certainly grinding against Ronald.

Ronald smiled into the kiss, his lips moving pleasantly against William's. "Then…is it okay if I keep you?" Ronald asked, moving his lips from Wills and kissing along his jaw.

William's breath caught. Somehow the little terror had found one of his obscure weak spots, and he closed his eyes at the feel of the soft lips caressing his jaw line. Unwittingly, he put his arms around the blond and held him in a tight embrace. "If you believe you're up for the challenge of it, yes."

The blond smiled, sliding his free hand along William's cheek as he trailed the kisses down his neck to his collar and then back up. This was not the place to test clothing removal. Balcony or not, they were in public, and this was surprising enough.

"Then…I want to keep you…but that means no overtime every single night until you pass out again." he breathed against William's soft skin.

"I can't promise anything," cautioned the brunet prudently, "but I'll attempt to avoid that in the future. I loathe overtime as much as you do, believe it or not."

His phone vibrated in his pocket again and he grimaced. Whoever it was evidently had no intention of stopping until he answered. He retrieved the device with a sigh and reluctantly pulled out of Ronald's embrace, avoiding looking at him for fear that he might impulsively toss the phone over the balcony in favor of ravishing the blond a bit more.

"This is William T. Spears," he greeted as he answered the pone. "Good evening."

He listened to the response, and his heart began to pound heavily again for entirely different reasons than before. He couldn't hide his expression of disconcertion from Ronald as he looked at him. "I see. Yes, I will be right in. Thank you."

William ended the call and he sighed. "The Undertaker escaped the infirmary."

"Whaa? But that's impossible! We went through a hellish amount of paperwork to instate the highest level of security in that place before he is moved to lock-up!" The boy complained, "Awe man… Now we gotta start all over again!"

"So it would seem," murmured the older reaper, his passion cooling. In addition to his frustration, he experienced and unforgivable feeling of…relief. What a horrid inconvenience it was to have his personal feelings interfere with his work. First the Undertaker, and now Ronald. He wasn't willing to give up the latter now that he'd established the blond felt the same, and he didn't know if he could muster the energy to capture the elusive ancient again.

William put the phone away and he straightened his clothes. "Come, we need to check in at Headquarters and discover how this was done. He had to have outside assistance, or he somehow managed to trick someone into freeing him. If it's the former, than we have a traitor in our midst's who is sympathetic to the Undertaker's plight."

"Maaan…" The boy groaned, pushing himself upright and shifting his legs, "Little Knoxie isn't going to settle down for a while, either…this is gonna suck more than it already does…"

William shifted uncomfortably, wholly sympathizing with Ronald. "Perhaps we can stand to wait for a little while, before reporting in."

~xox~

Sebastian was tempted to slam the door in his face when the Undertaker showed up unexpectedly on his master's doorstep. Ciel would have sensed it though, and it would have raised questions. He restrained the frown trying to form on his lips as he cordially greeted the slippery old reaper with a nod.

"Undertaker. What an unexpected…pleasure."

The mortician grinned widely and winked. "Try not to look so pleased, chap. Is the little lord available?"

Sebastian pulled out his pocket watch. "It is late, but my lord hasn't yet retired. Do come in; I'm certain he will want to have audience with you."

Undertaker snickered under his breath. "I'm sure he would. Don't look so worried, Mr. Michaelis. I have no intention of challenging you for the boy's soul, just yet. This visit is strictly for business purposes."

The demon butler noticed the wrappings around the Undertaker's wrist. "You seem to have made a remarkable recovery, sir."

"Yes, we Shinigami tend to heal fast," agreed the mortician with a glance down at his bound wrist. He flexed his fingers and winced. "Not quite so fast from scythe wounds, though. Fortunately our medicine has advanced to the point where my new scars won't be as obvious as the old ones, though. Now, are you going to show me in or not?"

"Of course." Sebastian chose not to respond to his barbs. He bowed politely and gestured for the reaper to come in. He showed him to the main parlor and he rang for Mey-Rin to bring him some refreshment.

"Do try not to flirt with the maid this time, sir. I would also advise you to refrain from taking her hostage."

Undertaker chuckled and relaxed against the back of the leather chair he sat in. "I've got no reason to do either…unless you and your master decide to call Dispatch on me again."

"I believe the young master has more pressing concerns on his mind, than seeing you captured again. I suggest you not overstay your welcome here, once your business with him is finished. I cannot promise Dispatch will not be notified the moment you've concluded your meeting."

"No need to hit me over the head with it." The reaper kept grinning. "I understand I'm only welcome here as long as I'm useful to the lad. How brief this meeting is depends on Ciel."

Sebastian nodded. "Very good, sir. Mey-Rin shall have your refreshment shortly. If you are suffering any pain, feel free to request some medication."

"You're too kind." Undertaker pressed a long-nailed fingertip against his lips to control his smile, and he watched Sebastian leave the parlor to go and fetch Ciel. "Well, this ought to be interesting, Vincent. Let's see if your son has the good sense to relinquish your records to me so I can finish what I started."

~xox~

It wasn't long of a wait before the door reopened and Ciel entered the room, saying nothing until after he sat down in a chair across from Undertaker, his bright blue eye studying the reaper.

"I'm surprised you are here. It seems the reapers are just as unable to hold you as I would be." He stated.

The Undertaker looked up from his cup of tea with a grin, and he shrugged. The motion was eerily graceful—a subtle reminder that he was not human. "What can I say? I'm a slippery old get. My work is too important to be delayed for very long, young Earl."

"Your work…bringing my father back?" Ciel asked. The topic had been heavy on his mind since Undertaker's capture.

The reaper nodded, still smiling. "Indeed. As I told you; my dollies were a means to an end. I've discovered the secret to manipulating the cinematic records to extend life beyond death. I was fortunate enough to collect your father's records before Dispatch could do so, and with them intact, I can bring him back to both of us. I can do nothing of the sort for your mother, unfortunately…she was…too far gone."

Undertaker frowned and looked away, recalling the moment he found Rachel's charred body.

"So you want to put his soul in some random partially decayed body? How is that helping my father?" Ciel asked. He pulled the chain of lockets out of his pocket and held them up. One charm missing from it's place. "If you want the last charm you will tell me everything." he said, setting it down on the table.

The Undertaker glanced down at the chain of lockets and he smirked. "If that's how you wish to play it, my lord. Very well; I'll do my utmost to tell you everything you want to know."

He propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, and he dropped his chin in his hand. "First, however, I think you should know that I've got no intention of dropping your Daddy's soul into a decaying corpse. I assure you that Vincent Phantomhive's body is still quite preserved and ready for the transfer. Secondly, I can't do this without that one specific charm that you've so cleverly decided to remove from the chain. That charm holds everything that is Vincent Phantomhive within it, little Earl."

"I assumed as much." The boy stated, "Which is why I am keeping that one safe with me until I am convinced of your intentions." He picked up his teacup and took a sip, "I know Sebastian is not happy of your being here. I have ordered him to keep away during this conversation. This is between only the two of us."

The Undertaker hid his annoyance well. After all, he'd had a part in this boy's upbringing—and Ciel was the only child of his two dearest mortals. "I thought I explained my intentions quite clearly, little lord."

He kept smiling. "I know you suffer no compunctions of religion, to keep you from getting your father back. What exactly is it that you want to hear?"

"It is unnatural. People die—they stay dead. There must be consequences and my father would be dragged into the middle of it. How do you even know it would work in the long term? His body could start to decay away as he 'lives' on. Your other dolls have not lasted long due to battle. You don't know if they would have lasted or not and it is cruel to give me my father back, only to make me watch him die all over again as his body fails him."

"His body will inot/i fail him," objected the reaper. "I have living proof of that. Do you think I would resurrect that which is most dear to me, if I weren't certain he'd stand the test of time?"

He spread his hands, displaying his long nails. He did not smile. "I would never even consider bringing him back, if I weren't sure I could do it. You're a bit too young to completely understand how much importance I place upon this, and Vincent would never forgive me if I were to elaborate. The question remaining, my dear, is whether you'll allow your father to remain dead for eternity…or whether you'll allot to bring him back."

The Undertaker dropped the hand supporting his chin and he leaned forward a bit, pinning the Earl with his strange gaze. The scratchy mortician voice vanished; replaced by the low, droning voice of the reaper behind the act. "I could take it from you right now, if I choose. Your butler could not stop me and you know it. I'd rather you give it to me willingly. Your father would prefer it that way, I'm sure. What is it that stops you, I wonder? Fear of Vincent coming back wrong, or fear of what he might say when he learns you sold your soul to a demon? You may not even have to be devoured, in the end. Your soul could be yours, to ascend or descend as it will. I know that you honor your contract, but what if I could fulfill your wish before the demon? I think that might be worth something to your parents."

The boy glanced away, "…The contract is unbreakable. He is mine, and my soul is his. There is nothing to change it."

"Never say never, my boy," insisted the Undertaker with a shake of a white finger. "If he fails to fulfill his part in the bargain…well then…he loses all claim to your soul, doesn't he?"

The mortician smiled. "You didn't really think Uncle Unnie would let the only son of his dearest friends get devoured by Hellspawn, did you? Everything I do has a reason behind it…even if it seems insane to others. But we can discuss that later. As long as your raven remains clueless as to who is really behind the attack on your family, he can't sup on you without breaking his contract. Doing so would cause his immediate 'death' on this plane and banish him to Hell for centuries, you see. So back to the matter of your sire; will you return the locket I ask for, or must I be aggressive?"

"And if I choose to stay within my contract? Father or not, I want my revenge." Ciel pulled out the simple locket containing his father, the light glinting off it's silver surface. "I'm surprised Sebastian never noticed there was a soul in here."

"Ah, but he'd have to be actively ilooking/i for it to stand a chance of detecting it," chuckled the reaper. He waved a hand gracefully. "I took certain measures to ensure nobody would easily discover the true nature of that locket, my lord. How could I not, with something so precious?"

He eyed the locket wistfully, unable to completely mask his desire. "I had to safeguard him, else Dispatch might have taken him from me."

"But I could sense it." the boy stated flatly, "I knew there was something about it…something familiar. and after what you said, I knew it was my father." He gripped it, "And now you want me to hand him over."

"Of course you could sense it," sighed the Undertaker in exasperation. "He's your bloody ifather/i, after all. You've got a connection to him that your pet demon can't duplicate. Yes, I want you to hand him over. You can't hug a memory, child. You can't talk to it, either. You could keep that locket beneath your pillow at night, you could talk to it, but it will never talk back or respond to you in any way. You may fulfill your goal and end up as food for Mr. Michaelis, and your father's soul will remain in that locket, helpless to do a thing for you. Is this your desire, little lord?"

"…How long?" The boy asked, "How long a wait?"

Undertaker tapped a nail against his teeth in thought. "As I've said; I've perfected the process. My latest crowning achievement was awake and fully functional within a week. I've also learned how to curb the craving for human flesh, if you'd like to know. Daddy dearest won't be trying to snack on you or any other mortal, so no worries of cannibalism. He won't be shambling around like a drooling invalid, either. I can assure you that aside from some mild scarring around the hairline, Vincent Phantomhive will be just as you remember him—with some notably enhanced attributes, of course."

"Will he have to be kept secret? Everyone knows he's dead… How could he be happy having to keep his head low?"

The reaper shrugged. "Believe it or not, your father was never happy being the Queen's Watchdog. He disliked the grim tasks his position sometimes required of him. 'Evil Noble', indeed." Undertaker snorted and waved a hand. "Vincent Phantomhive was a good man at heart; regardless of the things he had to do in the name of the Crown. He was too good for his iown/i good…or his wife's, for that matter. Her Majesty couldn't squash that with her demands, nor could he. I'm confident that Vincent won't miss his former duties or the title that came with them, my boy."

Undertaker watched Ciel thoughtfully for a moment, and he put his teacup aside to steeple his fingertips. "He might try to interfere with your fate, though. I'm sure you know that already."

Ciel glanced down at the locket in his palm—his father. Of course his father wouldn't want him furthering such a contract as he held in his eye. Vincent Phantomhive had been such a loving and devoted father…he always made time for Ciel's young self, even if it was just letting him sit in his lap as he worked…

But his soul's fate was his own choice. and Vincent hadn't been there when Ciel had been captured and abused. He hadn't been there to protect him… Sebastian had. Sebastian had been the one to save him. Ciel wasn't the same little boy Vincent had raised…not by a long shot.

Still…the child in him, deep down in his heart, held out the locket in offering to the reaper. He wanted his daddy back…

The Undertaker took the locket solemnly, seeing the vulnerable look that Ciel was trying so hard to mask. He rubbed a thumb over the smooth, cool surface of the item, feeling no small measure of relief at having it back in his hands again. He pocketed it and he stood up slowly, gazing down at the boy with quiet regret. Of all the promises he'd failed to keep, safeguarding his godson was the one that troubled him the most. He forced a smile on his lips. Ciel was alive and safe, for now. That was something, at least.

"You've made the right choice, little lord. By the end of the week, we'll both have Vincent Phantomhive back in our lives."

He bowed to the child. "Farewell, Ciel. You can keep the other lockets; I no longer need them."

Goal accomplished, the mortician created a portal and stepped backwards into it, waving goodbye to Ciel with a cheerfulness that he didn't truly feel.

~xox~

-To be continued