Chapter Thirty-Four
His Cousin, Organizing

She couldn't sleep. The bed creaked every time she rolled over, and the house moaned unendingly, unnervingly, as though it was trying to talk to her. She'd left the curtains open, so she could look out at the moon, and in the distance she could see the new tower, the one that had been completed just last year, in time for the World's Fair. She thought they called it the Eiffel Tower. It looked very strange on the horizon.

Colleen lay next to her, her back turned to Elizabeth, facing the door. She wasn't sure if the other girl was awake or asleep; it had been a long time since either of them had even sighed, but she rather thought Colleen was too still and too quiet to be sleeping. The weight of tomorrow was too heavy. The Orient Express, the last of the Zodiac, and the Director. And then what? There was no guarantee that either of them would come back alive, or even uninjured. Considering what had happened in the basement of the manorhouse, she had every reason to imagine that none of them would. She wondered how many automata would be lying in wait in the train. She wondered where Felicity was, and the Director, because they had to be in Paris; they were catching the same train tomorrow, and even if they'd scoured the passenger list and found no trace of a Parker, she was quite certain that they would be there. Down the hall was Theodore's room, and just beyond that, Ciel's; for a moment, she wondered what would happen if she went down and knocked, and then the blood rushed to her face and she threw that image out of her head. It would be highly improper, and besides, she would be able to speak to him in a few hours. She still wasn't sure what she could even say, though.

Stop thinking about this. She sounded like a fluttery child. I'm not that girl anymore. For the first time, it didn't feel like she was lying to herself. She wasn't Little Lizzy anymore, and no matter how she felt now, she wasn't about to let it distract her from the work.

After this, though, if she survived, she still wasn't certain what she would do. She was going to go to India with Paula and Michael, she was certain of that already. And Colleen, she thought, glancing at the other girl. Colleen and Soma, incredibly, had become friends. She hadn't spoken to Soma about visiting Bengal yet, but she was certain that he would agree to all of them when she did.

Not if she did, when she did, because she was refusing to allow herself to consider anything else.

They had a plan, as basic as it was. They would wait to confront the Director until they were certain that Felicity would be out of play. That had been Theodore's one demand, after all. As much as he seemed to enjoy driving Ciel crazy, keeping his sister safe was the only reason he was staying with them. It was only once they'd all agreed to leave Felicity to Theodore that he'd begun to explain what else he knew, slowly and steadily throughout the afternoon, his eyes never leaving the window and the sunlight outside. She hadn't been able to break the silence.

The Director would be staying with Felicity and Cutter. He didn't eat, not really, but he would put in a few appearances in the dining car so he could keep an eye on the rest of the passengers. "He gets bored easily," Theodore had said. "He'll be focused certainly, but he doesn't like traveling or sitting still for too long. He'll wander, and that'll be our chance."

He went over the Director's abilities, too: at least, he went over the ones he knew about. He talked about speed and strength, about hypnotic eyes and persuasive abilities. It sounded as though he was describing Sebastian, and it was unnerving. The automata wouldn't attack until they were commanded. Since their souls had been imprisoned, their will belonged to those who had done the imprisoning, and as of right now, that was Theodore, Felicity, Cutter, Shirakawa, and the Director. Shirakawa wouldn't fight – at least, Theodore didn't think he would – but Cutter and Felicity would. Theodore wasn't sure how far his control would extend, since he'd been missing from the Director's side for so long, but there was a chance that he could at least keep the automata off their backs if and when it became necessary.

"We'll finish this by Vienna," said Ciel, and they all agreed. From Vienna, Theodore and Felicity could vanish anywhere on the continent. As cramped as Europe was, there was a great deal of empty space between Paris and Vienna. They would succeed. She had to believe they would succeed.

The sheets itched. Finally, she snarled under her breath, and kicked the covers away, pulling on her dressing gown. She wasn't going to be able to sleep. There was no point in trying. Tying the dressing gown tight around her waist, she slipped out of the room without looking back.

Down in the kitchen, Sebastian was waiting for her.

She should have suspected it. Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment – he already had tea on the table, in a pot that was still leaking steam – and then she said, "Did you hear me come downstairs or were you going to wait with the tea until someone did?"

She thought she saw his eyes crinkle a bit, and thought she must have imagined it. The hair on the back of her neck was standing straight up. She hadn't been alone with Sebastian since he'd threatened her with a knife, and the memory of that – of crimson eyes sending her into darkness, of Undertaker's whispered secrets and everything else – was making her very nervous. He rippled to his feet and bowed. "I would not be worthy of the title of butler of the Phantomhives if I did not have something prepared for the lady of the household after a sleepless night."

The lady of the household. Elizabeth gave him a sharp look. "I'm no longer Ciel's fiancée."

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and looked at her in a deliberate challenge. She stood at the doorway, and wondered if she should leave. It was quite obvious that he wanted to talk to her, and no matter what she wanted to know about the investigation, she wasn't certain she wanted to return the favor.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She steeled herself. "You hypnotized me. In the manorhouse."

Sebastian blinked. Then he laughed. It was louder than she'd expected, deeper and happier. A boyish laugh. "And for that I must apologize, Miss Elizabeth. It seemed, at the time, the only way to get everyone out without further harm."

"I was asleep for days."

He shrugged again, unrepentant. "Also necessary. Not only would you have insisted on leaving, had you been awake, you were also badly wounded, and a journey back to London without at least a day of medical care would have been highly unwise."

"And the knife?"

"A test to determine your resolve as well as your ability with a blade." He said it mildly, unapologetically, as though he'd dropped something by accident. Then he hesitated. "At the time, I had begun to feel inklings of Ramiel's presence within the country, and instincts made me behave perhaps harsher than I should have been. For that I apologize. However, I do stand by the decision, especially considering the fact that you were engaged to my master at the time. Understanding your abilities was key to understanding the level of trust that could be placed in you as a future member of the Phantomhive household. That, I will not ask your forgiveness for, Miss Elizabeth. Only your understanding if you wish to give it."

That surprised her. She blinked at him, wonderingly. Everything he does, she thought, he does for Ciel. This man in front of her – a demon, she reminded herself, in the costume of a man – was going to eat Ciel's soul someday. Would Ciel die then, or would his body remain behind, a hollow husk?

That decided her. Elizabeth sat down, keeping her arms crossed tight over her chest. The floor was cold against her bare feet. Sebastian poured the tea, and she watched him carefully as he added milk and a hint of sugar before settling it in front of her, turning it so the handle faced her. Elizabeth took it, but didn't drink; instead she looked at him, and waited for him to say something. Aside from the small smile, his face was maddeningly blank.

"What are you?" She knew his answer already, could hear the Undertaker whispering it to her in an otherwise silent carriage, but she wanted it from his own lips.

"I am the butler of the Phantomhive household, my lady."

"Yes, but what are you?" She set her teacup down on the saucer. "What are you, Sebastian Michaelis?"

Silence for a moment. His smile faded, and then grew, and to her shock she realized he was showing teeth. He always smiled with his lips pressed together, as though he was hiding a secret, but now his teeth were bared. His canines were surprisingly sharp, and when she dared to meet his eyes, they were shining red.

"I am the butler of the Phantomhive household," he repeated. "I would not think of being anything else."

It wasn't much of an answer. It was the only answer she was going to get. Elizabeth looked at him for a moment longer, and then, deliberately, took a few swallows of tea. By the time she looked up again, he was the same old unruffled Sebastian, and even with his strangely colored eyes, he looked quite normal. Like a human being. He was eying her curiously, and, if she dared to say it, almost in approval, like he'd finally seen something that made sense to him.

"At the meeting today, you didn't say anything." She sipped at her tea again. "Why?"

"It did not seem to be my place to interrupt," he said, and tilted his head slightly. "Besides, I have already explained what I know to my master, and I had assumed he had discussed the situation with you."

"Not really." After all, discussion would require actual talking. Even though he'd asked her to help him, he still hadn't told her very much at all. Much of it she'd had to figure out on her own. "I can tell you one thing that Theodore doesn't know, though."

She went over what the Director had told her during the time freeze, carefully watching Sebastian's expression. It didn't flicker a bit, though she fancied his eyes might have shifted to a hue that was closer to blood than bronze as she spoke. When she finished, she sat still and silent, waiting for him to explain. After a moment, Sebastian sighed. "It was my purpose, centuries ago, to…corrupt creatures like Ramiel. I tempted him, and he fell, as he seems to put it. As you seem to have realized, he has not…forgotten that incident."

"Tempted him?" she repeated, confused. Sebastian looked at her, and remained quiet. Then in her head, the Director whispered it again. If you truly love someone, you should understand. The gears creaked into motion, and she felt heat flood up her neck, her ears going hot and tingly, her eyes going wide. "You don't mean—"

Sebastian smiled. It was a secret smile, a vicious smile, one that belonged to a cat playing with a dying bird. Elizabeth gulped her tea, and nearly choked on it.

"That was many years ago now." He turned the teapot thoughtfully. "I believe it was just before the affair with Robespierre and Desmoulins, though according to Parker's story, he only appeared on this plane thirty or forty years ago. It is more than possible that he was caught Between for a century or so. No doubt it was his time there that began to eat away at his mind."

"Between?"

"Between here and there. In nothing, Miss Elizabeth, a place darker and more terrible than any of you can imagine." He paused for a moment. "I found it quite boring, to be perfectly honest."

Elizabeth bit her tongue rather than respond.

"The fact that he's been so blatant in his use of power is quite interesting. Usually one of the Fallen is unable to even sever souls, let alone create wards strong enough to force one out of this plane's dimensional restraints." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I wonder."

"What?"

Sebastian looked at her, and then leaned back, considering. "It becomes often necessary, eventually, for any…being of our stature to develop ties, to anchor us to this plane. Plane meaning world, sanctum, one of Dante's circles of hell, whatever you wish to call it. The more one is bound to, the more energy one can draw, at least, in the case of beings such as us."

"And the Zodiac are…?"

"He may not have forged deals with them, but they are bound to him in one way or another. We're quite certain of it, Miss Elizabeth."

She nearly choked on her tea again. She set the cup down. "You're being very direct."

"Of course. After all, I am almost positive that these confidences will not be spoken outside this room." That terrifying catlike smile returned, and this time she didn't know how to look away from it. It only ended when upstairs, the floor creaked, and Sebastian flowed to his feet, turning to the counter.

"The young master is awake, I believe." He turned his head just slightly, peering at her through his shaggy hair. "Do you have any other questions for me, Miss Elizabeth? We only have a few minutes before I am summoned upstairs."

She turned her teacup on the saucer, watching him thoughtfully as he collected more tea. He was on the toast and egg when she finally plucked up the courage to ask it. "If…creatures like you exist, and creatures like the Director…" She wet her lips. "Do you think…?"

"God?" said Sebastian, and Elizabeth flinched a little bit. She hadn't wanted to say it. "None of my compatriots have come close to answering that question. If a being such as that does exist, he – or she, or it, for that matter – hasn't revealed itself within living memory. And I know many who have done much to get it to reveal itself," he added, "things that I will not burden your ears with, Miss Elizabeth. I myself prefer not to debate such matters. Whether or not God is real has no bearing on my own existence. It's probably best that the creature stays out of sight. After all," he said, "if the Pope's God does exist, then my continuing to live would be quite beside the point of angels, now wouldn't it?"

He rummaged in the cabinets for a tray, and had just finished sorting out the plates and dishes for the breakfast when the bell rang against the wall. They would be leaving soon. Elizabeth stood, wrapping her arms tight across her stomach, swallowing hard.

"Does Ciel know any of this?" she croaked, once she'd managed to get a semblance of her voice back. Sebastian turned, and smiled one last time.

"I do not lie to my master."

It was only once she'd stumbled her way back upstairs to change that she realized that that hadn't been an answer.

It might have just been her imagination, but Lizzy rather thought the air in the train tasted like Indian spices. The last stop was hundreds of miles away from India, of course, but it didn't keep her from thinking it. It smelled like she'd stepped into the kitchen back at the Middleford House when Agni had prepared one of his curries for them, as a thank you. The scent permeated the first class car almost entirely.

Her trunk was in the sleeping compartment she'd ordered. Still, that was a few cars down from this one, an empty second-class compartment that let them stay out of sight, keep an eye on the platforms, and stay together, all at once. She would have to make do with her trick parasol, for now, at least. Next to her, Colleen pressed her fingers into Lizzy's arm, hard. "There they are."

Elizabeth peered out into the steam of the train station. There were dozens of people boarding the train for Istanbul, but her eyes clung to a taller man with dark hair and pale skin, who was helping a girl with almost-white hair up into one of the compartments. She would recognize those two anywhere, not to mention the nondescript gentleman with them. Shirakawa was nowhere to be seen. Lizzy tightened her grip on her skirt, sat back from the window, and took a deep breath. In and out. Outside, the train shrilled, and then it shuddered into motion. The Orient Express was on its way to Strasbourg.

She'd studied the map pinned to the wall of the train car for a few minutes before Colleen had finally tugged her into their compartment. The Express would take them from Paris to Strasbourg, and then to Munich; from there they would go on to Vienna, and then to Budapest, then Bucharest, and then finally they would stop in Istanbul, where the train would turn around. She was absolutely certain that there would be multiple people getting on and off at each stop, and she was quite thankful that she'd managed to convince the ticket man to let them have a first class compartment with beds. She wasn't sure she would have been able to handle the trip otherwise.

Still, if the whole thing went according to plan, they should be disembarking in Munich, or Vienna at the very latest. There was no way she was going to allow the Director anywhere near his connecting train to Jerusalem. She'd kill him before that happened.

Not for him, you glocky haybag. For Mollie. For the Sparrow. For Rosie. For every woman Cutter ever took and every woman that the others ever stole. For everyone they ever raped and murdered. For the dead ones. For everyone those bastards ever hurt.

She worked her gloves off, absently, and next to her, Colleen munched on toffee. She'd spotted the candy shop the instant they'd stepped out of the carriage near the train station, and before Lizzy had realized it, they'd been dragged into the shop by a surprisingly strong Colleen, who had then begun to lurk the glass counters, peering inside. Elizabeth had almost complained, too, until she'd seen the expression on Colleen's face. It was as though she'd lost ten years, and there was a child looking back at her, smiling, delighted, her eyes sparkling.

Elizabeth had given way and bought a whole damn box of toffee, along with some Turkish delight and lemon drops. Neither Ciel nor Sebastian said a word about it.

Theodore kept his hat on, the brim pulled down low over his eyes. It had been a struggle to even get him to stay in the same compartment as the rest of them, despite the rather logical idea of keeping him out of sight until they were quite certain the automata weren't on orders to murder them as soon as they stepped out of the carriage.

Quite suddenly Elizabeth felt very alone. There was no telling who was against them and who was innocent; the automata could be set up as anybody, in any compartment, stowed away until commanded to attack. Of course, they weren't even sure the Zodiac knew they were present on the train.

As though he'd heard her thoughts, Theodore grunted, sliding down in his seat like a petulant child. "You honestly don't expect me to stay in here until the middle of the night."

"You can go wait in your own compartment if you like," said Ciel, with sweet venom. "As long as you lock yourself in like a good little hostage and stay out of our way."

Theodore gave Ciel a look that, within rights, should have flayed her cousin alive. As it was, Ciel just smirked back. If this was the sort of conversation that had been taking place in the Phantomhive house over the past week, Elizabeth was very glad that she had been able to stay at home.

"If they're on board, why don't we just go and take them out now?" Colleen leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because we don't know how many automata there are on board, Colleen," said Elizabeth, before Ciel or Theodore could respond and start another argument. It was rather like juggling a bag full of cats. "Until we do, it's best that we keep our heads down and stay out of the way."

Colleen grunted, but she settled again as the train lurched into motion. Lizzy's stomach surged. On our way. Her palms were sweaty as Colleen asked, "You lot are going into the dining car, though!"

"Yes, and you're coming too, but we have to change first." Lizzy let out a breath. "We're just going to follow the plan, Colleen, all right? I'm as anxious as you, but if we don't want them to bolt, we need to follow the plan."

Calculate how many automata were on board. Distract Felicity and get her away from the Director. Elizabeth and Colleen would deal with Cutter and Shirakawa; Theodore would take his sister and disembark in Strasbourg, if they were lucky, and Munich or Vienna, if they weren't. If it ended up coming down to a fight, they would force the train to stop, or at least try. Even if it wasn't their primary concern, keeping the innocent out of harm's way was much more important than either Ciel or Theodore wanted to admit.

Elizabeth glanced at them both, and then sighed a bit. Across the compartment, Sebastian was studying a book, quite carefully, his eyes sliding from side to side as he took in the text. She wondered if he was even really paying attention to it, and not keeping an eye on all of them at once.

He'd told her much more than she'd bargained for. More than she'd wanted to know. She still wasn't sure what it meant, and she'd been thinking about it ever since stumbling back upstairs to change. The most logical reason for him revealing all of that to her, at least, in her mind, was because he had some sort of purpose for her. Whether that purpose was good or bad, she as yet had no idea, but there was a purpose, and she would be a fool of the grandest sort to underestimate the creature known as Sebastian Michaelis.

Still, if Ciel trusted him, and if Undertaker's hints were right – if Sebastian wouldn't touch Ciel, wouldn't go against his orders, wouldn't do anything until their contract was fulfilled – then…not trusting him, exactly, but perhaps extending a hand of camaraderie was not entirely lacking in common sense.

They sat together in silence for a while longer. Outside, the sun angled high over French farmland; it was aweinspiringly green, no clouds in any direction, and just like on yesterday's train, Colleen kept her eyes fixed on the world outside. Elizabeth returned to Paradise Lost, but she couldn't keep her mind on the printed word; she finally closed it and set it aside, joining Colleen in staring out at the fields.

It would be a very long time before the sun set – it was, after all, the summertime, and the sun clung to the edges of the sky for hours past dinner – but when it hit five thirty, Elizabeth steeled herself, and stood. They all turned to look at her, even Colleen, who had been jostled out of a daydream. Ciel stood, automatically.

"I'm going to change," she said, and then hesitated. "You all should too. Ciel, may I speak with you a moment?" He blinked at her, and she added, "Alone, please."

Colleen's nails bit into her fingers, but Elizabeth ignored it. She could feel Theodore watching her, and it was ruining her nerves. She kept her eyes on Ciel. He stared for a long moment, head half-tilted, considering; then he inclined his head.

"Five minutes."

What does she want?

She looked quite nervous, truth be told. Her eyes were flickering all about the compartment, and she wrung her hands just a bit, like the old Lizzy always did when she was trying to come up with something important to say. Ciel turned, and met Parker's eyes. They were quite flat, windows with the shutters pulled, but there was something in the curve at the corner of his mouth that said he didn't like this situation at all.

"Sebastian," said Ciel, "take Parker back to the sleeping compartments. And go with Colleen. We won't be long."

To his amazement, Sebastian did not obey immediately. Instead, he looked to Elizabeth, just for the scarcest moment, and he inclined his head. Elizabeth blinked in surprise, and a mixture of confusion and realization flashed across her face. It was as though he'd handed her a task, and she'd accepted it, all in silence. Then he vanished, and the door had closed behind him, and they were left standing in the rattling compartment. Ciel crossed his arms tight over his chest.

"Well?" he demanded. "What is it? We don't have much time."

"I know." She seemed to mull over something. Then she spat it out, quick and sharp. "I'm sorry."

Ciel's eye grew wide. He felt words in his mouth, dozens of them, but he couldn't seem to say them. Before he could even try, she'd barreled over him, the way she always had, overwhelming him with words. "I'm not sorry for any of this, or for trying to help, or for what happened between us, but I'm sorry for…I'm sorry for some of the things I said to you, and what I thought about you, and I'm sorry for smacking you around with an epee when I should have just…talked to you. In February, I mean. If I'd talked to you….even if you hadn't listened, it would have probably made things easier." She was babbling, picking absently at the hem of her sleeve, unable to look at him anymore. "I'm not sorry for punching you or for anything else, though. And I haven't forgiven you. I just…at the beginning, I was acting the spoiled child – I have for a long time, but still, I wanted to apologize for that."

Ciel stared at her.

"That's all I wanted to say," she ended, and turned away. "Considering…where we are, I thought it best to say it now."

February. The fencing match. Or the beat-down. Considering the outcome, he wasn't entirely certain what else to call it. A sudden, vivid memory burst inside his mind. Sebastian, offering him a small box. She also left you a message. Just a few words, my lord. You're still not listening.

He sat down with a whuff of air, the simplicity of it nearly knocking him off his feet. Something was bubbling in his throat. If he'd been a fool, he would have called it a laugh. As it was, Elizabeth was peering at him curiously, not dragging her gaze away the way she usually did. She cocked her head to one side. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." He waved a hand. "I'm fine."

He wasn't about to apologize. Not for breaking the engagement, not for much else, either. He'd done as he'd seen fit as the Earl Phantomhive, and there was nothing else he should or could say about it in order to ease anyone's feelings, let alone his cousin's. Still, he wanted to, and that made him more than nervous. The apology was burning on his lips. Abruptly, the image of her face in the Dorking house, her eyes glassy with frustrated tears, flashed into his mind. I tried for months to show you that I am not who I was and the instant it starts being inconvenient for you, you throw it all in my face, you break my heart and I am never going to forgive you for that, Ciel Phantomhive! Why can't you see that I am not Little Lizzy anymore?

The idea that she was a much better person than he was struck him quite suddenly. He dismissed it – in her work with Parker, she'd proven herself to be just as manipulative and angry as he was – but it lingered in the back of his mind, hiding amongst the memories of the Little Lizzy, the one who'd cried and begged and laughed and smiled and demanded his full attention, distracting him, even momentarily, from his work and the terrors that came with it. He'd never imagined marrying her – he knew in cold cruel logic that someday he would surrender his soul, and that soon, the creature known as Ciel Phantomhive would no longer exist. Somehow he'd always imagined it coming before his eighteenth birthday, and thus his wedding. It was only a few years away now.

That thought was shoved right out of his mind. He'd broken the engagement. There was nothing to be done to reverse that fact. That part of his life was over; that lifeline had been cut. And then he looked at her, and the moment crystalized very clearly in his mind. Even if he'd never imagined marrying her, never even let himself consider it, the fact remained that through everything, he had never imagined his life without her in it.

He looked at her, and said it without thinking, because he couldn't think of anything else to say, couldn't imagine saying anything else. "Elizabeth. There's nothing to forgive."

Her eyes widened. They were very green in the half-light of the compartment. They were heading through a dark copse of trees, now, and flashing between shadow and light. She took a breath, and then said, "Well. Nevertheless. I…I wanted to say it. Because it's the end."

She stood there looking at him for a moment, as though she was waiting for him to say something. Ciel looked back at her, not about to speak, just wondering what would happen now. Finally, he turned away. "We should probably catch up with the others."

"There's…something else," she said, in a curious voice. Not quite nervous, exactly, but…hesitant. It made him pause. "About Sebastian."

He froze. His whole body went icy. The tone. Her face. She knew. "You know," he said, and Elizabeth looked at him with such a mild expression he wondered if she was going to break his neck or cut his head off or both. "He told you."

"Sebastian didn't tell me if that's what you're wondering," she said, and Ciel felt his blood freeze inside his skin. "And to be frank, even if I hadn't looked into it, it wouldn't have been that difficult to figure it out, Ciel, especially considering what the Director's been saying this whole time."

Ciel. Not my lord Phantomhive. Just Ciel, as though nothing had changed. He dug his nails into the nearest thing he could reach, which turned out to be one of the seat cushions. If he clenched it any harder he would probably tear through it, but if he didn't hold onto it, he would leave the room and never come back, and he wasn't sure he could afford do that, not even now. Elizabeth worried her ticket between her fingers, tearing small pieces off and creating a mound of shreds in her lap.

"Sebastian," she said, and he almost turned before he realized that there was no way Sebastian could be inside. He'd sent the demon away, to work with Colleen. "He…he helps you?"

"He's required to."

"And he won't harm you until the contract is finished?"

"No," said Ciel. He felt mechanical. He felt like an automaton, answering her questions blankly, still scrabbling to find something else to say. "He won't."

"How long will that be?" For the first time her voice trembled, and she looked like the old Lizzy, about to cry over something so small and insignificant as a soul.

"I don't know." He wasn't breathing. His lungs were tightening. "Not until I find the man who killed my parents."

"Oh," she said, and for some reason there was almost a tone of relief, like she'd been waiting for something much worse. "Oh," she said again, and she stood and came to him and brushed her fingers against his cheek. Her palm was shockingly warm. A tear slipped down her face, and then another, and her other hand lifted and peeled the eye patch off. He didn't move to stop her. He just waited, for her to turn away, for her to say something she'd said before, like I won't forgive you and how could you do this to me and what will happen to you?

All she did was lean forward and press her lips to his temple, right at the corner of the eye that held the Faustian contract.

Ciel couldn't move. There was no point. His face burned. Finally, she pulled back, stroking his jaw with her fingertips. Her eyes were red, but when she smiled, she looked like the old Lizzy. She looked like the girl that had been so precious to him he'd been willing to throw himself in front of a bear to keep her safe. Her hands slipped away, straightened his coat absently, and then she wiped the tears off her cheeks and said, "We should go. We have work to do."

His control broke. Ciel let go of the pillow, reached forward, and caught her, and she muffled a squeak of surprise as he wrenched her around. When he did, though, the only thing he could say was "Why?" Why was she simply moving on? Why was she not panicking? Why was she not reacting? He'd imagined this more than he'd care to admit, and every time it had ended with Elizabeth vanishing from his life, hurting too much to stay nearby, chastising him, criticizing, demanding that Sebastian leave, that they find some way to break the contract. Her eyes flicked over his face, and she smiled, damply, shrugging.

"What does it matter?" she replied, and the words cracked as they came out of her mouth. She was trying so very hard not to cry. "I can't – it's done, isn't it, and there's nothing we can do, and I just…" She bit her lip, closed her eyes, took a shaky breath through her nose. "Please," she said, and it was just a whisper. "Please, Ciel. We – you have time. Just don't…please, just live as long as you can. Please."

When he took a breath, it felt like the first one in years. Ciel lifted his free hand, scraping her cheek with the backs of his fingers. When he stood up, he was of a height with her. He hadn't noticed until now, hadn't thought about it, but it had mattered so much to him before, that his fiancée had been almost a head taller than he was. Now they were even, and so close that he couldn't think. He couldn't think of anything. The train rattled under them, but it was as though they were in the middle of nowhere, in patched shadows and light, and without thinking he traced the outline of her mouth with one fingertip.

Elizabeth looked at him with widening eyes. Her lips parted. She'd bound her hair up in a simple bun for the train trip, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible, but there was a curling tendril that had escaped, and he set it between his fingers. It was like when he'd found her asleep in his armchair – this mix of shock and surprise and want that had startled him so much, unsettled him so much – and he couldn't stop.

"What are you doing?" she said, and the words were a flutter against his cheek. He hadn't realized she was that close. "Ciel."

He froze. Blood pounded in his face, his ears, his neck. Idiot. Ciel dropped her wrist, and deliberately lowered both hands to his sides, clenching them into tight fists. Don't be a fool. He cleared his throat, and stared at the ceiling of the carriage instead, ignoring the rocking of the train. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

Elizabeth hesitated. She began to pull away.

With a tremendous sound, a terrible harpy's screech, the train braked. Ciel stumbled. Elizabeth flew off her feet and hit him like an avalanche, a heavy foreign weight against his chest as they both stumbled back and landed awkwardly in the chairs behind. Her nails dug like needles into his shoulders. The compartment rattled, like a dried pea in a box, and then the train slowly dragged to a halt and they froze, breathing heavily, unable to move. Outside, the sun vanished. They must have gone into a tunnel.

"Ciel," Elizabeth said, and she leaned up to look at the door to the compartment as best she could, torqueing her spine under his hands. "What happened?"

She was warm, warmer than he thought she would be. He should have remembered. When they'd been together as children, tangled like puppies, he'd always curled as close to her as he could because she'd been a veritable heater in the sometime chill of the garden. Ciel remained very, very still, trying to remember what he'd been about to say. Finally, she looked down at him again, and her eyes grew wide again, surprised, maybe a little fearful.

His stomach clenched. She's still frightened of me.

He really shouldn't have been all that surprised after everything. She knew. That was more than enough reason for anyone to be frightened. But it hurt, and the hurt was a terrible ache that seemed quite content to settle in him permanently, and for God's sake, why hadn't she scrambled off him yet?

Then she reached up, brushing her hand against his jaw, and Ciel went dead still. In her eyes, shock and fear had given way to something new. Her fingers felt like fire on the sensitive skin of his throat. Elizabeth had levered herself up onto one elbow, peering at him in the dark, and even though the stopped train should have been a major concern, Ciel couldn't bring himself to care.

She looked straight at him, level and calm, and there was the slightest of smiles on her lips. It looked regretful, almost sad, and something in him clenched at the sight. When she spoke, he could feel her breath on his mouth. "I want you to know that I—"

Without thinking, natural as breathing, Ciel leaned up and kissed her.

Elizabeth froze. Her fingers tightened against his cheek. He wasn't entirely sure, he realized, when he pulled back, what he was expecting her to do. She was wide-eyed, frozen, looking at him as though she'd never seen him before, and Ciel felt the blood rush to his face again. He felt like an idiot. He was an idiot. This was neither the time nor the place nor the circumstance. It wasn't something that should have happened, wasn't something that he should have done. It wasn't that he cared about propriety – hang propriety – but it was Elizabeth. And she'd just apologized for nothing. And it was Elizabeth. And she knew. He lifted a hand to cover his face, looking away from her, hiding behind his arm. "I—"

She didn't say a word. She simply reached out and took his wrist, moving his hand away from his face. She could see his eye, he realized, she was looking directly in his eyes, and she had to be able to see the mark, the way the deal had changed him. She looked right at him, and time stuttered just for an instant. Then she lowered her head and Elizabeth kissed him back. Her mouth was warm, and soft against his, and he could taste sugar on her lips from the candy she'd eaten earlier.

For a moment, he was absolutely still. Then suddenly one of his hands was twisted up tight in her hair, working it out of the bun, and it was as curly as he remembered. He wasn't sure what had happened, but his other hand lingered at the small of her back, and when he slid it up her spine to find her head, she made a soft noise and her whole back arched. Elizabeth let out a gasping breath, and Ciel breathed her in in wonder. Her fingernails were scraping the nape of his neck, and the patch was left a useless scrap on the floor of the compartment.

He tasted salt. She was crying.

Ciel didn't let himself think. There was no point in thinking anymore. He brushed a tear off her face. "Lizzy."

"It's nothing." She blinked furiously, scrubbing her eyes dry, and then kissed him again, light as a butterfly. Her lips clung to his, and then she broke away and hid her face in the shoulder of his jacket. "It's nothing."

"Liar," he said simply, but he wrapped an arm around her anyway. His heart was pounding. "You're a terrible liar."

She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob, and he realized her heart was beating just as fast against his chest.

A/N.

Here you are, my lovelies! Hopefully you'll find this plausible. Things have begun happening aboard this illustrious Orient Express, and much sooner than anyone anticipated, too. ;)

Part Three starts next chapter. GUESS WHAT IT'LL BE CALLED.

rileybear 14: Aww, thank you! I'm glad you like Lizzy. I know she's not exactly canon, and that she can be as spoiled and bratty as Ciel in her way, but I love her dearly, and I'm glad you've enjoyed her in Domina Esques.

Dolly: Fixed, love! I'm sorry it took me so long. I kept forgetting. I'm gonna fix the Italian next. And when it comes to the cheese on bread, Lizzy's English. She may know a lot of languages, but that doesn't mean she knows not to spread cheese on bread. XD

schoolgurl95: Augustus' motivations will be explored in this arc, along with a lot of other things. :3 As for what Frances told Colleen to do, that's a secret until soon. Ish. (How grammatically correct I am, si?)

KuroKuro: Cutter's an ass.

LittleMissSophie: / Thank you so much, Sophie, dear! And argh, mistakes? Really? I even have a beta, too. -_- I'll go back and fix them.

Tri17: Yup, Snake! Only a glimpse at the moment - he's stayed behind to keep an eye on the house in Paris - but he'll be back, I promise you that.

Andelevion: Racism was pretty inescapable for the Victorian/American upper class, especially in this time period. You should have heard some of the names the English had for the Indians. :/ Sometimes being a history major sucks, because all of the dark spots people would rather rub over in their own histories, I get to inspect. Yum.

Dreaming Zombies: Aldkfjkldsfdsa. Thank you so much! / I'm so happy that you're enjoying it. Colleen will definitely have a lot of action in the near future, and probably a few POVs too. ;) Stay tuned.

TVDfreak: ARGH, YOU GUYS, I CAN'T HANDLE THE COMPLIMENTS, I'M DYING. Thank you so much!