Hopelessness. Horror. Disgust. Revulsion.

These were all things one would feel upon entering Ms. Elizabeth Midford's office at the London Police Department. Especially if you were Detective Ciel Phantomhive, whom the woman happened to lust after every waking moment of her time.

It'd been a relatively nice day before he opened that door; the city glowed with the sun, a rarity in such a normally dark and dreary place. He'd had an outing at a local coffee shoppe with one of his dearest friends, and shortly after that he'd even gone window shopping and found a nice navy blue suit. His thoughts were repetitive, he knew, but he really could not shake the fact that it was so golden outside.

What a shame he had to be dragged away from the light's open arms by none other than the woman he detested.

She was working at her desk filing papers, or maybe she wanted to make herself appear busy so Ciel would think her a hard working woman. The reality of the situation, however, was that the only thing his boss worked hard at was hounding the bluenette to give her a chance.

Of course, he would never fall for someone so cheap and desperate. One day, he'd love to have someone practically drooling at his feet to obey his every word, the narcissistic bastard, but he didn't want anyone who didn't fit his tastes. Especially when the one pursuing him was already so infatuated.

It should be a game, struggling to get the other's attention at first through their aloofness, then pulling a few strings that would catch their interest. Keeping that up, he'd soon have them wrapped around his little finger, a perfect lover utterly devoted to him and only him. And thus, he would be equally as in love.

Thinking that strategy over in his head made him realize he kind of sounded like a lunatic, but he could care less. He simply had standards one must meet in order for him to be intrigued. And Midford most definitely did not meet those standards.

"Ciel!" She exclaimed upon looking up from her "work". Placing two feminine hands on the desk before her, she shifted her weight to them so that she could bounce up, the action making her seem like a jack in the box. Her starry-eyed expression only boosted the similarity, large shining jade orbs locked on the detective of her dreams.

"Midford," Ciel tried to sound somewhat enthusiastic, but bored undertones were obviously existent.

Luckily, dear Elizabeth was a bit of a dimwit, and didn't sense it. "Oh, sit down darling! You must be absolutely exhausted, working so hard like you always do!" The jovial blond didn't mean her request, as she ran to him to the best of her ability in a pencil skirt.

Wrapping both her arms around one of the man's, she pulled him close to her and rubbed her cheek all over Ciel's shoulder. He could only scowl at her behavior, the rest of him too busy being in awe at her office.

It was atrociously girly, far too much so for his taste... Salmon polka dotted curtains, pictures of herself on the walls and her desk, fuzzy-ended pens, a pink, flowery bookshelf in the corner that held case files and- erotica?!

Ciel's upper lip curled. She had absolutely no respect for her workspace, treating it like she would a room in her home! What kind of inconsiderate, imbecilic, absolutely rubbish person was she?!

The blue-haired detective felt his blood boiling. If only Midford could see what was going on inside his head... Would she be in for a real treat...

"Uhm- pardon, Miss Midford," he rolled his shoulder, a signal to the woman on his arm that he would rather be formal in this short meeting- and that he didn't appreciate her clinging to him like a soul sucking leech. "I'd like to get this over with, if that's alright with you."

Her cheerful expression deflated like a balloon, the extra gleam in her eye vanishing just as fast as it had come. "Oh, right- yes, of course, the assessment! That's- why you're here! Hahah, silly me, please forgive me Ciel- I mean- Mr. Phantomhive!" She spluttered, trying to regain the poise and elegance she never possessed in the first place.

Awkward girl, isn't she... How in the fresh hell did she become Chief of Police?

"Let's begin then, shall we? I'd hate to waste your precious time!" Midford strut back to her desk in a manner that obviously read she still thought she stood a chance to win his affections. It was all told in the sway of her hips - she was still trying, even after she'd been so inept, and she was trying much too hard.

How brutally unattractive.

With an irritated sigh, Ciel adjusted his tie and jacket and shuffled over to the seat in front of Midford's desk. The latter plopped down into her own and scooted forward, suddenly very interested in the task at hand.

"Now, let me pull up your file so that we can get started..." Almost immediately, small, dainty fingers began to fly across the keyboard of a baby blue laptop, blonde bangs and curls sailing forward as she leaned down to type.

Clickity-clack-clack-clack-click-clickity, went the keys.

The detective swallowed, a mild sweat beginning to form at his brow.

That laptop had to be such a lascivious color of blue... A tyrannical and taunting color it seemed to be now. Why in God's dear name did Alois Trancy have to have those eyes...? Why couldn't they have been brown or hazel, or maybe even just green like Midford's? He would have hated him from the start because of the likeness and he would have never gotten into this mess.

He felt like he was being interrogated. Cornered, trapped, a spy that was to be tortured by the enemy 'till he confessed, and what torture this was. Staring at the very color of the eyes that had vitiated his name and status.

The worst part was that he was remembering those eyes so vividly in front of another person. The way they'd screw tight together as he begged, dear lord... The way they'd open lustfully and teasingly throughout the activity, the way they lidded themselves as he said his name...

"Nngh- ah Ciel..."

Ciel stopped breathing.

"Shit..."

His heart was pounding out of his chest, yet his lungs ceased to do much at all.

"Mmmn... So good, baby..."

Alois' voice rang throughout his head, sending shivers down his spine and warmth to his lap.

Desperate, oh god, why is he so desperate...

Suddenly he was back there, back to the night before in his hotel room and it was happening all over again. He was pounding into the svelte boy with all he could, making him scream and cry and god, he loved every second of it. And he hated that he adored it so much. He hated it with all of his heart, that he could have commit a formidable and abhorrent deed such as this. Worse was the fact that he had allowed himself to go through with something that decrepitated his good name and had enjoyed it.

"Holy hell, yes!"

This could simply not be happening.

No, no, of course. It was all just a daydream. It had never happened in the first place! Who even was Alois Trancy? He knew no one of that name, he would certainly have remembered, wouldn't he? He especially didn't know them by the alias Jim Macken. It was all a fantasy he'd dreamed up in his head!

...A rather sexually explicit fantasy that had most indefinitely happened just last night.

Sometimes the detective really hated his deductive abilities, they made such a terrible liar out of him. Even when he was only lying to himself.

The memories and flashbacks of the two foes' sex continued to feast upon his mind, fine dining that made for a very aroused and regretful host. He still was unable to shake the feeling of being inside of him... It was absolutely breathtaking, so wrong and yet so right, and it made poor Ciel shut his eyes and hang his head in shame.

"Ah! Here we go," Midford had grabbed that guilty pleasure by the neck and thrown it across the room, taking her seat instead in the dining hall that served the bluenette's attention. "So, you're working on..." Two clicks of her computer mouse, "two cases? Is that correct?" Ciel's hands were quaking on his knees, a troubled swallow passing through his throat.

"Er- yes, ma'am." He put up a front to the best of his ability at the moment, seeing as he was still frazzled. Miss Midford didn't exactly need to know that, now did she?

She blushed and placed a hand to her cheek, giggling desirously. "Ma'am? Oh, Ciel, no need for the formalities! Just call me Lizzy," the blonde chimed, a goofy smile on her face. You could just see the hearts in her eyes... It truly did irk him.

He shut his eyes, concentrating on bringing the stoic and disinterested detective back to the table.

"Midford," the bridge of his nose being pressed on its sides by furious digits, "can we please stop stalling and get on with it?" The words were curt, a bit more so than he had intended. He wouldn't have cared normally, but the young woman had inhaled sharply after he had spoken, and since she was his boss there was a bit of a problem with that.

"Er- sorry, miss, that came out wrong. I'd just like to proceed, if that's alright with you," Ciel offered as consolation. Much to his luck, Elizabeth smiled toothily, already back to her overly perky and annoying self.

"Mmhm, yes! Uhm," the girl opened a drawer with a tinny clunk, searching around in her desk for a pen with her lip bitten.

Dear god, she never stops trying, does she?!

"Heheh! Got it," her arm protruded in front of her sizable bust, shutting the thing and squirming around in her seat to try and "get comfortable." "Alright," a click and the pen was able to be written with, blue inky tip pressing down to the form beneath Midford's hand. "What are your cases, Mr. Phantomhive?"

"Don't you already kno-" He considered his words in his head, and he decided that even though she was the one that assigned him his cases, perhaps she had forgotten.

"Hh, my cases are those of Menace and the Armed Torch Arsonist," Ciel responded simply, crossing his legs. He still had a bit of an issue, but he'd have to deal with it later. At least in this environment he could conceal it with ease and without any line of questioning as to why.

Midford scribbled down his answer, her eyes flicking back up to the screen as she clicked the mouse a few times.

"Do you have a suspect list for either of your cases?"

"I have a prime suspect for my first case, Alois Trancy, but I have no suspects to report regarding the second as of late."

"I see," Midford nodded. She penned down a few words and once again returned to the computer monitor.

Tic-tic, went her mouse. Ciel sighed. The noise had already become irritating. Her voice had already become irritating. He was just in one of those moods where he wanted to abandon everything: his job; his city; his friends- All the bluenette wanted was some peace and quiet.

But the flirtatious blond writhing around in his brain had other plans.

~oOo~

It was so boring.

Then again, being questioned about what you've been doing the past two months for two hours usually was, wasn't it?

Ciel sighed as he left the obnoxious woman's office, rubbing his eyes with a tiredness he'd feel only upon such an occasion. He absolutely hated this part of his job. Don't get him wrong, he loved his job with all his heart, more than he could ever love somebody, but dear god, socializing with higher-ups? It was nowhere near enjoyable.

They all thought they could control him, tell him to fetch some petty criminal and bring him back to their feet like a good little puppy. Well, newsflash- he wasn't an animal, and if he was he would most certainly not be an obedient one such as a dog.

He was uncontrollable, unpredictable, wild. He would do what he wanted when he wanted, and they were all damn lucky he felt like solving their trivial cases.

Perhaps that was a reason he loved being a detective. It was so... easy. And yet, he would be praised for his "hard work" every time. Somehow, no one else would see the patterns he would notice upon first glance at their documents- until he pointed them out.

It was true, he had everyone wrapped around his pinky finger. He could catch anyone he wanted.

The bluenette ceased his walking. He turned to look behind him, just to see if there was anyone there.

Except the one person he wanted to find the most.

"Alois Trancy..." He whispered to himself, his eyes going dark as he continued his descent down the pavement.

"I'm going to find you. I'm going to bring you in. And I'm going to kill you myself."

It was no longer sunny out. It was back to being London. Dark, cold, cloudy, and dreary was the atmosphere.

A perfect night for the perfect crime.

"Ciel? Hello, Ciel?"

A voice? From inside his breast pocket?

Ciel grabbed the talkie he had hidden in his shirt.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" He responded quickly. By the way the voice had a peak in its pitch, Ciel could tell it was important.

"Alright, listen up. We got an anonymous tip a minute ago and, according to it, there's going to be a massacre at the Ruben Hall Casino tonight. In a few minutes, actually, shit... Our source gave us reason to believe it's Menace."

The detective's eyes widened. His grip on the communication device grew tighter, knuckles previously ivory now stained a ghastly white. This was his chance. "What's the address?! What did they tell you?!"

"62985 North SandHaven Avenue. They said they've got- Fuck, it's happening at 9, 73 lives are at stake here, man!"

"Seventy thr- Nine o' clock?! Dammit, I'm going, I'm going," he shoved the talkie back into his shirt pocket and raced to his car, slamming the door shut and stepping on the gas before he even knew what happened.

Get fucked, Menace.