Chapter Seven:

His Butler, Demonic

I couldn't stop touching my lips where the seal was. Tattoos? On my lips?

If only Derek could see me now.

"C-CIEL! What the hell are these things? Why do I have glowy-thingies on my MOUTH? I-It isn't even natural!" My arms waved up and down erratically. Ciel sighed, holding his head in his fingers like he was supporting the whole world.

Probably thought he did, anyway.

"Calm down, Stevie. For us, it is natural. You're a demon now. You'll have to get used to it. I know, becoming a demon isn't the ideal choice for a girl, but-"

I cut him off, "Becoming a demon? Hell, becoming a demon isn't the problem! In fact, I think it's cool! I get super strong and cool and all that, no, my problem is the fact that I HAVE TATTOOS ON MY LIPS!" I continued poking my lips. Ciel watched me, sweatdropping.

He sighed, signaling for me to look at him, "You're not the only one who has the seal, look," I didn't know what he meant until he took off the eye patch. If I had been a weaker girl, I might have fainted.

His eye had a seal on it!

"Y-Y-Y-Y-Your e-eye…" I pointed at his glowing purple-pinkish orb. He sighed once more, and I was slightly wondering how much breath he had stored up in that little body.

"Yes, I know, Stevie. Not the most pleasant thing to look at, but it's a reassurance that you're not alone," He put the eye patch on. My face heated up, and steam came out my ears.

"What are you saying? I'm sooooooo jealous; I wish my eyes were that pretty!" I pouted. Why were all the boys in England prettier than the girls? Why? It wasn't fair!

Ciel almost blushed. ALMOST. The color was there…and then it wasn't.

"W-Well, I-"The door burst open, revealing a smiling Sebastian.

"Young Master, I think that you must come and see this," Ciel immediately went for the door. He stopped, looking over his shoulder.

"What are you doing just standing there? This is an order, Stevie Johnstantine, follow me!" He walked back out. Me, being me, had to obey without hesitation.

Stupid Shotas.

What I saw in the ballroom was something that no one can really prepare for. Something, that if were to be described, would make no sense whatsoever. But, you know that no mere words can stop me from telling you what I saw, so here it is:

There was a giant blue antelope.

It just stood there, looking from person to person, face to face, when its eyes finally landed upon dear Ciel. Too bad the midget lord couldn't ever be prepared for it. Sebastian was.

As the antelope charged at Ciel, Sebastian jumped in front of him and, with one flick to the head, sent the creature flying into the nearest wall. I stood there, dumbstruck, like all respectable Stevie's do.

"Everyone, this is simple entertainment for tonight," Sebastian made light of the situation. The crowd seemed to buy it, "As inspired from the bull fighters of Spain, this rare blue deer will be my opponent for this evening. If you all would please, step away from the nearest area of the arena, thank you,"

I would later remind Sebastian that it wasn't a deer.

The antelope charged back at Sebastian, ramming its horns in his direction. He masterfully evaded and brought two silver forks out of his coat pocket. I gulped. Even I knew what bullfighting was. And I didn't like it.

At the last second before he struck, I turned and buried my head in the taller Ciel's shoulder. I couldn't watch an animal be killed. But I knew I couldn't prevent it either.

Surprisingly enough Ciel didn't try and turn away from me. He didn't return the contact either, though. The crowd 'oohed' and clapped for Sebastian. I was trying to hold in tears.

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Sebastian, Bardroy, Mey-Rin, and Finnian all surrounded Ciel, asking him about what happened.

"Young Master, what went on down there?" Finny asked. I was in the corner of the room, glaring at Sebastian, "You never would arrange for such entertainment,"

Ciel glared at Finny through his eyepatch.

"It appears we had interference. Someone put that deer-"

It was NOT a deer,

"-In the ballroom at the time. Mey-Rin, check for any assassins outside, if seen, shoot them down. Finnian, make sure there is a blockade around this part of the mansion. Bardroy, if you see any other killers or thieves, predict their movements and report them to Mey-Rin. Is that understood?" A chorus of Yes-Sir's echoed around. All the servants minus me and Sebastian rushed outside.

"W-What should I do, Ciel?" I asked, avoiding looking at Sebastian. Ciel shot me a considering look.

"Stevie," He said.

"Yes?"

"The assailants will probably have a get-away car. You mentioned previously that you dabble in mechanics? Find this car and shut down its system, is that understood?"

I smiled for the first time that night, "You got it!" I yelled.

Rushing out the door, it took all my might not to sing the Mission Impossible theme song. Stevie Johnstantine, specialty: Mechanics. Age: Thirteen years old. Weaknesses or Phobias: Absolutely None.

Except for blondes. Just a bit.

"Where is that car?" I said to myself as soon as I was outside. Over the years, I learned that a previously used, older model of car let out the faintest smell of motor oil that lasted for only a short while. I could smell it already. I had to track it like a bloodhound before it mixed with the air and became impossible to smell.

The scent led me east of Ciel's office, all the way into a circular driveway.

What kind of thieves park at the front driveway?

If I hadn't been on a mission at the time, I would have committed a theft myself.

The most gorgeous car in the world was right in front of me. And I had to shut it down.

How did I know that this was the thieves' car, and not one of the guests, you ask? Simple. I don't think one of the aristocratic guests came loaded with TNT. Unless Ciel had a fetish for destroying his home, I was gonna call the shots on this one.

It looked sort of like a Rolls Royce, just a little beat up. But that made it all the more pretty. I was serious. I was about to marry this car.

But, what had to be done, had to be done. I shifted my short frame under the vehicle, automatically memorizing the structure and layout. I cracked my knuckles. Secret Agent Stevie was about to act.

I held back a dramatic moment, "Sorry, my friend," I was just about to rupture one of the main gas pipes, when I got an eerie feeling. Don't give me that look, if you suddenly got transported back in time, you would follow your gut too!

I crawled out from under the car, noticing just in time the voices yelling, "Back to the car! Back to the car! Tha' damn red-edd bitch es crazy! Back!" They were approaching. And fast. I looked around. Damn Sebastian. Or should I blame Finny? There weren't any trees!

"Come on! Come on! In you go!" They rushed out just as I jumped under the blanketed back. Why didn't I run, you ask? Because these were the bad guys. And the bad guys always have guns.

I really don't want to be shot.

"Start the car! Start the car!" An American accent yelled. I would have been relieved for companionship if not for the, you know, guns. Yeah. Not exactly a conversation starter.

The car started, the engine roaring. All the while I was cursing the little idiot that is me. Only then, did I notice what exactly was under the blanket that I stole. It was there. And I didn't like it.

I. Don't. Like. Corpses.

I muffled my scream as much as I could, but thankfully my little squeal of terror was overrun by the motor's hum. Oooh, I really really really really hated dead guys. I've been scared by the Thriller video.

"N-Nice d-dead guy," I reached up my finger and cautiously poked his nose. Instantly, I pulled back. He was so cold!

Just my luck to have looked for rescue, and gotten a corpse.

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Ciel P.O.V.

It seems that no matter what party I tend to host, it never ends quite right. Whether it's the servants' or guests fault, something always goes wrong. But this time topped them all.

I never would have expected an animal, let alone a blue deer (Stevie always looked at me funny when I said that) to show up at the party. Luckily, Sebastian knew what to do, as always. Bullfighting was unusually clever, though, even for him. Apparently Stevie didn't think the same thing.

She even went to the point of burying her head into my shoulder when Sebastian landed the final blow. Now, I am not one who takes enjoyment in lying to oneself. I didn't honestly hate her contact. I might have even said that I liked it. But, I don't use the word like. It is a wretched thing.

By this point I was thoroughly convinced that this was the distraction work of thieves or assassins to try and break into this house. They wouldn't get in. Not with my staff. Oh, and Stevie. Her specialty was mechanics, right?

After telling everyone (including Stevie) what their assignments were, they ran out of the room. Children. Such noisy things. I always knew that I was much more mature than them.

"Sebastian, I need to think. Get me my sweets, that's an order,"

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

The cake was not the prime point of my investigation at the moment. As a full adult of thirteen years, I was impervious to such distractions. Sweets, no matter how much chocolate, weren't on my mind.

The paper in front of me was more concerning. The document read, and I quote:

Dear Phantomhive Master,

HI!

YOU WANNA COME OVER AND PLAY SOMETIME?

We formally ask you to come and discuss matters of trade with us. We would like for you to- IF YOU WANT YOU CAN TELL A JOKE TO THE UNDERTAKER! WE'LL HOLD OFF BUTLER-BOY! AND- Please excuse the erratic manner of this message. We sincerely hope you will consider our offer, because if you don't, the queen will be in grave, serious peril. Also-

CIEEEELLLLL! IF YOU COME YOU CAN HAVE AS MUCH CAKE AS YOU WANT!

I was professionally considering their offer.

Stevie P.O.V.

Screw my life. Screw this car. Screw the person who MADE this car. Screw the whole goddamn world! I want out of this blanket!

The corpse and I were becoming very good friends. I had already told him my life story. He was kinda shy though. I didn't pry. It was his business.

"Go to sleeeeep, Go to sleeeep," I sang to the corpse, anime-tears running down my cheeks. I was officially insane, "Go to sleep little corpse dude, Go to sleeeeep, Go to sleeeeep, please don't suffocate me till I turn blue…" The car ride had shifted so his incredible heavy hand lay on my throat. Still I croaked out the notes.

"Rock-a-bye, dead guy, with the cold grip. When the wind blows, I might get to live. If I live, I'll run until Fall. So good bye dead guy, blue skin and all," By now the anime tears came down harder. The hum of the motor droned out all my singing, until it suddenly cut off, they had stopped the car.

Hallelujah.

"Get the corpse," The American accent said. He giggled right after he said that. Weird.

Now I had another problem. I wasn't supposed to be here. One the corpse was gone…so was I. A goner.

So, I mad like a dog and played dead. It worked. Apparently the guy was the classic American male. Dumb as a rock.

Wait.

That's an insult to rocks. Sorry, rocks.

He couldn't tell that dead bodies aren't warm. Of all the outfits I could have been transported back in time in, it had to be my tank top and shorts. Great.

He made a curious noise in the back of his throat. I silently prayed that I looked dead.

"Edward? I thought you said you'd only kill one guy this time! I didn't know you had a Lolita fetish!" If I had been 'alive' I would have socked this guy where he stood. Lolita, please. I was much more Moe than that.

"I don't! I guess I just lost count!" 'Edward' yelled back. The American guy seemed okay with that and hoisted me and dead dude onto his shoulders. Okay. Strong American guy. Even more stereotypical.

Yay. Big word.

"Undertaker!" He yelled once he walked in through the door. I heard a creepy "Hmmmm…?" As a response, "I've got more bodies for you to tinker with!" Did this guy have to yell everything?

"Oooh, and I see you even got a young girl, fresh, still color in her cheeks. This takes guts, you know," He laughed an incredibly creepy (but kinda hot) laugh, raspy voice and all.

"Let me see the girl," Oh no. This guy didn't sound nearly as dumb as Captain America. He might just know that dead bodies aren't warm. He touched both my cheeks with long fingernails.

"Tch!" He made a small sound of disgust in the back of his throat, but not loud enough for the American to hear, apparently. With that he stood up, "Sam, go and tell Edward that you two are done for the night. I'd like to work on the bodies now…." He finished with a creepy, but fake laugh. Sam walked out.

Since the 'Undertaker' probably already knew I wasn't dead, I risked opening my eyes. What I got was a face full of silver hair.

"How dare you disgust me by pretending death, oh the horror!" The man spat in my face. I squealed and backed off.

"I'm so sorry you see I was trying to mess with their car and I sorta failed and then Captain America came and he drove off and I was stuck under a blanket with corpse who turned out to be really nice by the way so I sang songs to him by then America dude stopped and took me out of the car and now you're about to kill me!" I finished, gasping. The Undertaker chuckled. I cringed more.

"I see the mark on your lips. What a talkative demon you are, Stevie Johnstantine,"

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Okay, super long wait for an update, I know. AND I HAVE NO EXCUSE WHATSOVER! I'M SORRY!

Oh, and I'd like to thank Excel Fusion, on the other side of the world mah fanfic friend! Write on~

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