"I hate you so much," Diederich said in a flat tone. He was tied up next to Vincent and struggling in a way that was not helping their given situation. They were bound back to back by black leather belts tightened around their wrists, arms and torsos. The struggling only made the bonds chafe around their wrists and leave red welts. Vincent had a killer headache and he was grateful that the room was poorly lit and that smoke obscured most of the light in the room anyways. The noxious smell of smoke of all varieties- opium, cannabis and tobacco stung his eyes and made it hard to breathe. Mostly every one here was too drunk or tool much of a degenerate to care.

People in the crowd cheered for them too loudly. Vincent had just had a fantastic blowjob and a less than fantastic chloroforming and his head was pounding with pain. Diederich struggled against the belts and Vincent sighed. He would think a way out of this, when the pain subsided and the crowd would just shut the hell up. They were placed in a cage on a circular stage so that everyone in the room could leer at them. He scanned the people there, spotting some familiar faces, as well as his dear ol' cocksucker Alistair who was standing on the stage with them, waving for the crowd to quiet down so that he may make some sort of announcement.

"You hate everything, why not try looking on the bright side for once?" Vincent asked Diederich, who continued his fruitless and pathetic were getting nowhere, except more tired.

"I present you- two fine german beauties," Alistair said, his tone of voice was extravagant and overly put-on, as usual. He was an attractive blonde dandy with light eyes, fair skin, and wore a white suit accented by black and gold details. People in the crowd wooed over him accordingly. Vincent was less than wooing at this moment, and saw him as nothing more than an idiot who had just temporarily taken control of the situation. He still believed himself to be the smarter man in this lifetime, the prior chloroforming, bonding and selling meant nothing.

"You were molested, and now we're both being sold into slavery. I fail to see any good things that have happened this evening," Diederich said, his voice wavered with emotional distress.

"It wasn't molestation, I did that willingly. By the way, how the hell did you get caught?" Vincent asked. If he were here alone, being sold off like a cheap hooker, that would have been acceptable, but no, his supposed 'assistant' was also stuck with him, that idiot.

"I saw that you had been assaulted by Chambers and I was quite... shocked, as it were. He took advantage of my weakness."

"Sometimes you have to make your own fun in this business."

"I fail to see how what you did could be considered fun," Diederich said. He was so clueless, Vincent would have felt bad for him if he wasn't currently being auctioned off because of it.

"This one is a fine virgin, you could keep her as a pet or sell her for parts," Alistair said, pointing at Vincent. The crowd cheered, and people raised their auction paddles at his dress-clad form. There was a bidding argument. However bought him would be in for quite the surprise as he's not a virgin, fine, or suitable for selling in whole or a la carte. He is covered with scars and has a large package under the layers of dress. Along with drugging, and human trafficking, Chambers took absolutely no moral discontent with false advertisement.

"Actually Alistair, let me amend your selling points, he's a virgin," Vincent said, obviously referring to Diederich, though nobody could hear his snide talk above the crowd. Diederich sighed in response. He had not provoked two nobles in a bidding war but it was Diederich, he was always this gloomy.

A gun shot went off and the crowd gasped and fell into a panic. Though they really shouldn't have been that panicked, considering that firing off a gun into the ceiling area of the room was probably the most legal thing to take place here this entire evening. Nobles, male and female alike rushed out of the room in a clamor. They had absolutely no time to stick to their convictions, it was all about saving face in society. Sure they'd all willingly take part in crime but to be caught? What a faux pas! They were afraid of the police, or perhaps a murderer, but the truth was far worse. The shoved each other back and forth as they squeezed their impractical ballgowns and canes through the one exit door in the room. Alistair let out a high pitched whine of a scream as he was shot in the foot and fell down to the stage, unable to pick himself up and get away. As the room cleared, it was clear the shot had been fired by a short, long haired young boy in a dandy brown hunting outfit, carrying a rifle in his hand. He had a totally out of place and ornate sword hitched to a belt loop on his pants. It was none other than Vincent's sister, Frances Phantomhive.

"Pathetic," she said dismissively, shooting a hateful look towards the criminal she had just apprehended. Frances took a good hard look at the two young men strapped together in front of her, and the whining dandy behind her. So much for the supposed 'strength' that she lacked. She was the only useful person in this entire situation, and also the only one with a uterus.

"Hi Franny," Vincent said, casually, trying to play this all off as if it were nothing. It didn't work on Frances. It never worked on Frances.

"Don't go to the party, you said. I wouldn't be able to handle it, you said. It's dangerous because you're a girl, you said. Diederich is so capable, you said. And look at where you are," Frances scolded them. Vincent and Diederich were still tied up, and she didn't look like she wanted to let them go any time soon.

"Alright, so maybe I overestimated Diederich..."

"Hey! I tried, damn it!" Diederich said.

"Oh shut it, you need me," Frances told her, her voice stern. She pulled out a serrated hunting knife from the pocket of her baggy brown waist coat that she took from Vincent's old wardrobe, and cut the belts. One by one they snapped, and Frances was glaring at Vincent for the entire duration of this. She was right, she was always right. He needed her, Vincent really needed her, but he didn't want to admit to it.

Alistair was trying to crawl away with a bullet still firmly lodged in his foot. Even if he had gotten out of the room (which he did not), he still would have left a painfully obvious trail of blood behind him. He crawled at a snails pace. HE could be left on his own for now while Frances got the two less-skilled detectives out of their bondage. Vincent stood up, straightened out his skirts and charged forth. Alistair was not much competition in his race to the finish. Vincent stamped down on his injured foot with the heel of his fashionable womens' shoe and pressed down on it with all of his weight. Alistair let out a scream and tried to wiggle away. Vincent only stamped down on it again.

"As Vincent Phantomhive, the personal detective and enforcer of her Majesty, Queen Victoria, I am now informally charging you with human trafficking, murder, fraud, tax evasion, and false advertisement of goods," Vincent said. He pulled out a gun from in between his fake cleavage and pointed it at Alistair's head. The metal of the gun butted itself directly to his scalp. "Any last confessions?"

"I'm really sorry and I promise I won't do it ever again," Alister said. Vincent sighed, he was kind of a pain in the ass, but he was also a stupid pain in the ass. He was barely good enough to sell a couple of nameless biddies. Here the stupid blonde was as Vincent had seen him many times before, begging for release and looking the other way. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit nostalgic about this situation.

"Fine. But if you ever, ever, ever get caught pulling this again, I will kill you," Vincent said. He stepped away from him, lowered his gun, and shot Alistair in the other foot. Just because he could. Alistair screamed again. It was a fun night.

Vincent, Frances and Diederich exited the manor, and the people from the party had already vacated the premises. Aside from the man crawling around screaming from help, they were the only attendants at this fine ball. It went from being a thriving crowd of criminals and perverts to being a small group of royally-patronized criminals and perverts. Before they left, Diederich quickly grabbed another sandwich from the buffet table. Frances quickly drank three glasses of wine that remained on the table. Vincent, being constricted in a vice-like metal torture contraption, could ingest nothing. It was still in the darkest hours right before the sun rise when they left the party and the terrible failure that was Vincent's first mission without Frances. By the time that they got to the Phantomhive estate it was light outside, and none of them had gotten a single bit of sleep or rest. It would be time to start the day as soon as they knew it Tanaka greeted them at the door, and Frances ran quickly up the stairs, presumably off to sleep.

"I swear the lot of you are queers," Diederich said, exasperated and tired.

"No just me." Vincent said with a smile.

I was going to write a better authors note but I am too exhausted to think of anything particularly remarkable to say. I love you. Good night or whatever time of the day you are reading this. I will come up with something more intelligent on Friday.