A/N: Sorry about the delay, everyone. Had a presentation yesterday, and I seriously over-estimated my skills in writing. Plus my internet's down after midnight, so I had to wait until today to post. My apologies on that.

But, on a lighter note, we're closer to approaching the next case. It might seem more vague since she won't be as directly involved, but you'll see as you read on.

Now, onto the reviews:

Kuroki Kitsune: Definitely, I've thought about the dynamic between Rachel and Sebastian, and I'm pretty sure that the moment I introduce our infamous demon, you'll definitely enjoy the push and pull between Sebby and UT. I don't exactly plan for a romance beginning between the two, but you'll see. Thanks for reading!

bunnyxstar: Thank you, I hope to also make up more ideas that exposes more of that side of him. I don't see as many stories doing that nowadays T-T

8shadesofmadness: Thank you for letting me know. I hope not to let you down. Your advice is always helpful!

skaterrockgirl: Ah yes, UT vs Sebby. That is definitely something I'm looking forward to as well. Just hang with me til then, lol. Thank you for your feedback!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji nor will I ever. Everything read not included in the manga are my ideas and characters alone unless mentioned otherwise.

Chapter 17 Undertaker's POV (3rd)
He was wrong. Well, maybe only partially wrong. Rachel had a certain kind of disdain for her fellow man, bordering on misanthropic. However, she seemed to also harbor a kind of pity towards them for their inherently pitiful state despite her faux behavior of superiority towards them.

Then he thought of yesterday and a smirk crept onto his lips. As mature as she seemed to act, as well, she was still child-like in her perspective of "adultish things", she had called it. After what had transpired after their very special hug to commemorate a new milestone in their "friendship"- she still seemed to deny it, much to his chagrin - he'd wanted to enjoy some evening wine with her, but she opposed firmly, only accepting half a glass and no more.

And speak of the devil - ha~ - Rachel appeared at the forum of the shop. Scanning the room until her gaze landed on him currently sitting where she usually would and reviewing the past few days' paperwork she'd done. She quirked an eyebrow, then a frown, and then the same impassive stare was donned, like every other day.

Ah, how infuriating. He hated that he'd never witnessed her at her angriest or her happiest. Given time, it would happen, but he needed a catalyst, and he couldn't always be the reason lest she become suspicious and distance herself. Of course, not if he could help it.

But he hated that blank stare of hers. Impassionate, cold. Unliving. A corner of his lips quirked. The living dead, it seemed. He wanted to see her face light up, to see the light in her eyes, not that dull, glassy reflection that peered up at him. He wanted to see what she looked like… like when she played the piano. The only thing about her was that she was private.

Even with that unintended piano performance at the Phantomhive manor, Rachel didn't seem to appreciate audiences much. And even if she did play, she played with her eyes closed which was a rather unheard thing of today. But she'd explained that it helped her emote with the music more, feel it, she'd described. What he would give to crack open those eyelids and see what went on underneath.

As he continued to think, in his peripheral, he caught a sketch just as he was about to flip to the next page. Head tilting, he brought the page closer to inspect it to find a miniature sketch of a skull, the exact replica on his desk, but flowers were growing out of the eye sockets. All this etched in ink. He started to grin before looking through more of the pages and finding random drawings here and there. She must've been getting bored. He giggled.

The drawings sometimes ranged from a coffin to a jar containing a liquid and floating eyeball, and even a few drawings of him, but much smaller, miniature versions of him with a gigantic face. What an interesting technique~ He giggled some more when he found various poses of him either sleeping on a coffin, munching on a bone, etc.

"What are you giggling about over there?" Rachel's voice came from behind the paper he was holding up to his face, and he put them down to lean his head on a hand and grin at her. She'd gone back to cleaning up the rest of the bugs that she found, going so far as to kill the unfortunate ones, but not as dramatically as the first time.

"Hihi, well, I must've found me a treasure~"

She lifted an eyebrow.

He held up a page holding up a drawing of him sleeping on a coffin and drooling. "Care to explain~"

Her facial expression morphed from impassive to somewhat embarrassed and shy despite cooling her expression to seem annoyed that he caught her. Scratching the back of her head, she admitted sheepishly, "Well, I was getting bored. Either that or pass out." She shrugged.

He smirked. Just as he expected.

"Is that going to be a problem?" She seemed skittish now after what happened the day before, and he didn't really like that.

"No no~ It's quite refreshing, hihi~ After all, who else besides I will see them anyway~" He made sure to sound soothing. Couldn't be scaring her away, now, could he?

Her brow furrowed. "Well, unless if it has to do with an investigation-"

He waved a sleeved hand nonchalantly. "Now now, let's not get hungover trivial matters, shall we~ hihihi!"

She frowned but relented with a shrug, "You're the boss." With that, her bashful countenance dropped, and as if nothing happened, she continued sweeping.

A frown tugged at his lips again, not liking how blasé she seemed. Although he enjoyed her drawings, he wanted to draw more reactions out of her. He simply needed to get creative.

His grin widened. That shouldn't be hard~ After all, he was a force of nature when he got bored. He gnawed on a cookie as he finished looking through the paperwork.

By now, Rachel had started dusting off the shelves again, and how meticulously she cleaned reflected upon the care she took to remove books or jars off the shelves to clean off dust before wiping off the residue on the objects themselves and returning them. Then, she'd move on to another section.

While he missed the unruly atmosphere of his shop, he can't deny that he enjoyed the company far better. And said company consisted of his assistant's adorable reactions and lack of unwanted chatter. She wasn't one to be open nor start a conversation unless he did or if she needed something. She wasn't bothersome either, choosing to keep to herself and Zero, if he ever dropped by. Really, anytime her associate visited was the only time she relaxed.

He rested his head on his hand, elbow on the desk as he stared off into the distance, having been done with paperwork. What could he do to make her relax more? She seemed so much like the German dog, and that was so boring~ The only time he had fun with her was when she snapped. But he also had the feeling that the more she did, the more she'd distance herself.

Hm, what an enigma… Perhaps he should encourage more visits from her associate. Of course, he could then ask for tips, but that would take away his fun. As a curious man by nature, part of the fun was discovering the mystery yourself, and the harder it is, the more satisfaction gained.

As he watched Rachel dust off a jar, an idea suddenly struck him. Of course, it'd be quite tricky to pull off considering her suspicious nature, but if he acted more friendly, perhaps there'd be some progress. Of course, it's not as if he already wasn't, but she had to see him as less as a boss and more of a coworker. He simply had to get through that thick skull of hers, and with her mental fortitude, he'd guess there were more barriers than it appeared.

His silence and gaze must've been quite unnerving to his assistant because she suddenly turned to him to already find his gaze on her. Her brows furrowed, but she asked in wary concern, "Uh, are you okay?"

"Hm~ Why, yes, dear, why do you ask?" He decided to play around a bit. He had a goal to attain.

"Well, for the past half hour, you've been staring at me and saying nothing which leads me to believe that either I'm doing something wrong or you're having a dilemma."

He grinned. "Hihihi, how perceptive of you~ Well, m'dear, seems that you can help me with that problem~"

She raised an eyebrow, expecting him to continue. When he didn't, she prompted, "Which is?"

He smirked. "Prepping a body. It's about time I showed you the more gruesome side of an undertaker's job~ But, of course, we'll start off easy, for your sake dear~"

He expected a snarky response from her, but seeing her doubtful expression, he presumed she was more preoccupied with thinking that this was not the problem he was referring to. However, seeing that she had no grounds to prove otherwise, she decided to keep that thought to herself and just reply with an uncertain "Okay."

He snickered. "Especially since you've fulfilled the paperwork aspect of it quite beautifully, I suppose it's time to acquaint you with the steps leading to everyone's greatest moment of life: their funeral."

She snorted. "Wow, glad to know that paperwork was a pre-requisite to being a mortician's assistant."

He smiled. Ah, there it is. "Well now, your work ethic was what I was after, and finding it satisfactory, I suppose I won't need to kick you out~"

"I guess." She didn't seem offended at his joke, which he also expected. She seemed to understand his reasonings, no matter how crappy they were, in her perspective.

She came over to join him as he removed a sheet covering a body. It was a lady this time, and the expensive clothes immediately gave away her high birth, yet the bruised and battered state of her body were due wholly to a carriage incident. Well, of course, the papers also gave it away, so no mystery there, really. What he wanted to know was Rachel's reaction, and the impassive stare was all he got before she spoke her opinion.

"Although, why anyone would care how anyone looks just before they're shoved under a mound of dirt eludes me. All that's left is a shell; no one's there anymore."

He gave her a knowing smirk. "Perhaps, yet, it's all they have left of them, so why not make a great lasting impression~ After all, I put the fun~ in funeral, hihi!"

He cackled when she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Please stop, your terrible puns would be the only reason why none of your guests would want to come back to life and congratulate you on your hard work."

He pouted at her biting response. Inwardly, however, he was glad that he was able to find someone with such spitfire. Women of this era were quite weak, and to find one as strong-willed as his assistant was a rare gem indeed. "How cruel~ If only my guests were alive to witness the brutality my assistant bestows upon me~"

"Yeah, sure, need I remind you that you willingly invited this supposed abuse to work as your assistant?"

He smirked at her. "Would an employer knowingly employ an abusive employee?~"

She finally broke her gaze away from the corpse to glare at him. He knew she understood that the point wasn't made to offend her, but that it was an overall good point that she couldn't refute. His smirk only broadened at her reply. "Alright, fine, whatever. Let's just get on with it."

His giggles only seemed to worsen her mood.

August 25, 1885 - Tuesday

Rachel's POV (1st)
It was currently noon now, and he'd already shown me how to stitch up corpses, clean them up, and put on their makeup. When I'd inquired about the removals of certain organs for his research, he had paused before giving me a smirk, knowing that I'd gotten that from the manga before telling me that he did those himself before allowing me to work on the body. Well, at least I won't have to worry about finding organs for him.

While the workload was surprising, I suppose it's how he made decent money for a living. Not to mention having to prepare and make the coffins, measurements, as well as finishing touches, it's no wonder he was quite the shut-in. However, he was also a reaper, so I doubted he ever got behind with his work.

As of now, I was trying to finish up covering up the corpse's bruises with the makeup he'd provided. While I may not have been the most experienced with make-up, I knew just enough to make it seem convincing that she /wasn't/ run over by a carriage. How these things still manage to happen confounds me. How in the world do you miss one of the noises things on earth that have a horse's hooves clopping on cobblestone? Well, unless if the driver was irresponsible. That would actually make more sense.

I sighed. My thoughts were beginning to ramble because of how I bored I was simply using make-up to cover up the bruises. We'd yet to get started on the finishing touches such as what kinds of flowers to put in the coffin, the color theme, even the dress.

I looked back at Undertaker to find him completely absorbed with his work. He'd moved on to the next body, his cloaked body swaying slightly to a tune known only to him as he also prepped the corpse for its funeral.

Well, good to know someone's enjoying themselves.

I sighed again. I couldn't understand what was so infatuating about his work. Besides the fact that I was his underling, truly, this wasn't the job for me. My mouth quirked. This wasn't a job for an assassin. We never bothered with the dead.

I frowned, looking down at the lady corpse. She was pretty, but she looked like the rest of London's gloomy residents; plain, uninteresting, normal. What a life that must be, I wonder.

I looked up again to find Undertaker having moved on to dressing the body. Really, I had no clue what he found so fascinating about his job. But, to each their own, I suppose.

I had finished covering up the corpse's bruises and was now working on the makeup to make it presentable. I had forgone the stitches, mainly because of the shit-terrible job of my first attempt. Unfortunately, the facial makeup didn't take long and I was back to having the stitch. Again.

I sighed. "Ok, this shouldn't be hard, Rachel." Undertaker taught two kinds of stitches: interrupted and continuous. Based on his other corpses, however, Undertaker seems to favor interrupted. Less hassle, according to him. Besides, if you messed up even once, you'd have to do it alllll over again~

Sure. Fair point. I can relate. I sighed through my nose.

"Dearie~ Sighing isn't gonna get our guest ready for her funeral~" Undertaker was looking at me bemusedly while he continued suturing without looking or breaking pace.

Ass.

"Yeah, I don't need you showing off your skills, thanks." My lip curled as he giggled incessantly, but I began my pitiful attempt.

Taking the clamps, I pinched the curved needle with the thread tied at the holed end and began pushing it through the skin and under the wound before angling upwards to tug the thread through just enough to tie it off before cutting it. First one, done. Now for the next one.

After a while, I noticed after the next few stitches that they weren't evenly spaced. My eyebrow ticked. Some were too spread out or too close to each other. Grumbling, I took out a scissor and started snipping until the first one and began again.

After about an hour, I'd only gotten three wounds stitched up, and I still hadn't reached the back. I sighed again. God, this was getting annoying.

I heard booted footsteps approach before the clink of a plate being placed on the coffin grabbed my attention. The plate was full of biscuits and he was also holding a beaker of tea for me.

I looked up at him unamused, seeing as he was grinning. "My dear, you don't need to be so concerned with the appearance of the stitches~ After all, they'll be covered up by clothing anyhow, hihi~"

I frowned at him. "Maybe for you, but that's sloppy work ethics in my opinion."

He smiled softly. "Now now, no need to be so hard on yourself~" He grabbed another curved needle working the thread through the hole before tying it off.

As he did so, I had the intense urge to snap at him for trying to baby me, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to say anything I'd regret.

I took a deep breath. I'm overreacting. Why was this even bothering me?

"Now, my dear, pay close attention~ They don't need to be perfect, only just enough to get the job done. They're dead anyhow, so I'm sure they won't mind~" He giggled creepily again as he started to sway once more.

I nodded wordlessly as I observed, but mentally, I was elsewhere. Then a nail poked my forehead. Hard.

I glared at the offending appendage before transferring it to the owner of said appendage before realizing he was pointing his talons to the cup of tea behind me.

"Your drink's getting cold~ Aaaand I've prepared some cookies since my dear assistant's been working so hard!"

I rose an eyebrow at him. "I didn't even finish, though." I took ahold of the beaker, letting it warm my hands.

Wait. I haven't even washed my hands.

Then I looked at the cookies. Dear God, did he touch those without washing his hands either?!

I looked incredulously at him before seeing his blank face, devoid of emotion. It lasted only a second before he was on the floor laughing and bawling. I felt my face heat up, both from embarrassment and annoyance.

"Oi, quit laughing, asshole! It's not funny!" I grit my teeth and clenched my fists, getting ready to kick him if need be.

He only howled in reply before rolling back and forth on the floor, still capsizing in his laughing fit. My nose crinkled in disgust, knowing how dirty the floor was until I remembered he was just stitching moments before. The needle! God help me if that idiot pricked himself.

"Hey, Un! Get off the floor! You're going to hurt yourself!" I tugged on his robes, trying to get him to sit up but to no avail. I was more concerned with trying to find the needle, but the dumbass wouldn't move an inch.

I gave up. "Fine! You know what? Go ahead and prick yourself. You'd be doing me a favor if you got yourself infected!" I spun on my heel, ready to storm off only to find a clawed hand grip my heeled boots, stopping me in my tracks.

I looked behind to find a drooling Undertaker slither upwards until he draped himself over me, and I cringed. Not only did he not wash his hands, he also rolled on the floor and God knows what is on his person and now he's drooling! Wonderful!

I then tried to tug him off me, but his arms sealed the deal by looping around me, chin resting on my shoulder. My eyes were to preoccupied with making sure that his drool never landed on my shoulder as I pushed desperately at his chest. "Un, seriously, this is nasty. Please let go."

"Hehe~… I think I just saw nirvana… hihihi, the look on your face, too~… hahhh…~"

I deadpanned as I bore the brunt of his weight. He really wasn't that heavy, but think of it as an overly clingy sloth that won't let go.

After a few minutes of him giggling and mumbling, I asked, "Are you done yet?" I was still watching a trail of his drool begin its slow yet sure descent onto my shoulder, and just before it could reach my clothes, I decided to just take out the handkerchief and wipe his face. I couldn't stand it anymore. No more.

He didn't reply, only shake his head no which only further buried his face into my shoulder. I sighed. Better to just wait it out.

I decided to patiently sip at the tea, which thankfully contained less sugar than before, before I felt his face lift from my shoulder and his chin dig into it instead.

"Dearest, you didn't really think I wouldn't keep my promise, did you?~" His voice sounded forlorn for whatever reason as I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Promise?" What was he talking about?

"Why, this!~" He pulled out the hand sanitizer I'd given him last week from his sleeve and I deadpanned.

Ah, so he remembered. Good for him. "So you've been using it, I take it?"

He nodded boisterously, eager to please.

"Ah, well, that's nice."

He pouted. "That's all?~"

I gave him a bland glare. "You aren't a kid anymore, and like hell I'm treating you like one."

His lower lip stuck out before he cried out, "Meanie~!", and wound his arms tighter around me for a one-way hug.

I sighed. Well, this is a brand new trend for me. I'm pretty sure I could just pre-record myself sighing and I wouldn't have to be here the majority of the time to put up with Undertaker's antics. "Un, you already got your hug yesterday. Hands off." I tried shrugging off his arms, but he stubbornly held on.

"No~ Not until you hug me!" Then, to my absolute horror, he nuzzled his cheek against mine, and I lost it.

"Dude!" He'd just been rolling around the floor, and now there was God knows what's on his hair, and who's to know what else could've gotten on his cheek and-

… And I just called him dude, didn't I?

I froze.

Seeing the lack of response after I'd stiffened, Undertaker curiously leaned back to watch my horrified face become a deep red before it turned to the palest shade white. Then, I smacked his hand away before running away to my room.

He blinked. Did he overdo it?

He smiled.

Oops~

I was currently pacing my room, arms crossed tightly as I repeated my embarrassing moment. Ahhh, my God. How was I ever going to face him again. I double face-palmed, right when I heard two knocks on the door.

"Dearie~ You in there?" Undertaker's muffled voice in the doorway only confirmed my suspicions and I inwardly groaned.

Can I not have a moment's peace all to myself?

Before I could even collect myself, Undertaker was already turning the knob, and I paled. Great. I'm screwed.

As Undertaker opened the door, I could see him gauge the atmosphere, my guarded expression, how tightly crossed my arms were, and the slightly hunched over position like I wanted to disappear. I wish I could disappear. That would be so nice.

I looked at his hands to find him carrying my unfinished beaker of tea and the plate of cookies. Now, I was a bit wary. He did wash his hands, right?

"Heh, you escaped before we could have tea time, dear~" He tilted his head, cautiously testing me for a response.

"Right…" Where was he going with this?

He didn't say anymore, just walk past me to the only desk in the room and place the plate on the desk before taking a seat on the chair. When I didn't react, he gestured for me to take a seat on the bed, and I did so, albeit warily.

"So, what's the meaning of this?"

He smiled patiently. "Well now, I decided we ought to take a break~"

I blanked.

He snickered. "You looked quite frazzled, so I thought it was a bit overwhelming for your first day~"

I shook my head. "That's not really…" We didn't even do anything physically challenging.

"Hm?~"

I shook my head. "Nevermind."

He only smirked before sticking a cookie in his mouth and handing me one.

I took it cautiously, mumbling a thanks before reaching for the tea. "Where's your drink?"

"Ah, I finished mine already, love~"

"I see."

We were silent as we snacked. I noticed Undertaker had the tendency to steal quite a few, but his appetite would never be staunched with a few meager biscuits.

"Does your diet consist of only those cookies you bake?"

He looked to me with a biscuit stuck halfway in his mouth, making him look quite silly.

Well, that's if I had any humor left to care.

He smirked. "Well, now, if my cookies were all I lived on, I wouldn't have lived this long, dear~ hihi, what made you ask?" The cookie broke in half as he munched.

I shrugged. "Just wondering."

His munching eventually stopped as he watched my mind wander. He tilted his head again as he stole another biscuit and stuck it in his mouth, waiting for me to notice him.

After a while, I noticed it was dead silent, and when I looked back, I found Undertaker staring back at me without a smile on his face, completely devoid of emotion. Uh oh.

I blinked. "Uh, yes?"

He didn't respond, but not because he didn't hear my question. He looked like he was thinking of something.

"Un?"

"My dear, are you still bothered by what transpired earlier?" He seemed to be quite interested and troubled at the same time.

My eyebrows creased. "Is this about me calling you 'dude'?"

He snickered. "Well, I don't see the big deal about it, dear~"

I sighed. "Of course, you wouldn't. You wouldn't know formality if it smacked you in the face."

He snickered. "Ouch~"

I rolled my eyes. "My only problem about it is the business side of this relationship. I don't like overlapping my personal life with my work life. I've worked hard to maintain that."

Undertaker smiled slyly. "I assume you're referring to your twilight activities~"

I nodded.

"Well, now, although that is an admirable line to draw, it is simply you and me, dear~ There is no harm in establishing friendships with business partners, at least in my humble opinion, hihihi~" Undertaker was back to that creeper mode, arms held up like a puppy's, slouched posture, and a bit hunched over.

I couldn't really refute his points. Well, scratch that, I could, but knowing Undertaker, he'd simply disregard it and insist. Argh, he's infuriating!

But, I couldn't help think of Vincent and Undertaker's relationship when he mentioned "friends". I don't know how friendly they are with each other, but hopefully, it's nothing too intimate. I didn't want anything to do with that.

"I guess."

His smile widened, and my stomach felt like curling in on itself. I don't like that face he makes. That face that looks like I won't like what he's up to. He started giggling. "Why so nervous, dear?~"

I deadpanned. "Besides the fact that we're the only living people in this shop, I think you can figure it out yourself."

He grinned before leaning forward and moving his bangs to expose his face. He was staring at me with a smirk, and I stared back.

"What are you doing?"

He blinked, smile dropping. "You don't like my face?" He was confused now, ironically.

My eyebrow rose. "Am I supposed to?"

He blinked before extending his sleeved hands in a grabby motion.

I shook my head. "No."

He pouted. "I want my hug~

"Nope."

"Cruelty~ Never did I expect my own assistant to deny me~"

I snorted. "Sure, I'm not seeing any witnesses."

He smirked. "Alright, if you won't come, then I will."

"Wait, what-" Before I could even finished, he'd joined me on the bed and was already hugging my midsection.

This was awkward beyond all reason.

I sighed. Whatever.

"Dearest, have you thought about Madame Red's invitation?~"

Oh, a distraction, eh? Thought that would work, didn't you? Asshole. Ignoring my inner monologue, I just entertained him. "What's there to think about? We're just going to hang out and then I get to leave."

"Hihi~ Not very sociable, are you?" The arms tightened as he snickered before he started swaying us.

"Stop, you're gonna make me dizzy." I gripped his arm to make him stop. "Why are you so interested anyway?"

He looked at me slyly with one eye. "Well, the way I hear it, it might involve a case~"

I blinked. What?

"Deary?"

"What? How? Why?" I craned my neck to look at him and realized just how close he was and leaned back a bit.

"Hihihi! Well now, it has to do with the party rather, not your 'hang out'~ And perhaps not necessarily a case, but an assignment."

"Assignment? By who?"

"Hmm, from what the Earl tells me, it may be from Her Majesty."

My brows furrowed. "Why?"

He grinned sharply. "It's not up to me to care what the queen stirs up. I'm not much of a fan anyhow~"

"So you say…" He giggled at me but I faced forwards again. "So what is it I'm required to do?"

He waited, wanting my full attention and when I did, he made his voice mysterious. "Call it a test of trust~ You will act as a decoy while the Earl comes in for the kill!"

I blanked. "Ok, nothing hard about that. So?"

He smirked patiently at me. "Also, you'll have to learn to fit in with Victorian society within that setting, so that means mingling and dancing."

Oh. I sighed. "Ok, what else?"

"That's all."

"Great. I don't see what's the big deal."

"Perhaps not yet, but it's a matter of whether if you'll obey with no qualms or take your own chances~"

I stared at him. Sure, it wasn't unheard of to hear of insurgents, but that would depend on the situation. "I guess we'll have to wait and see, in that case."

He smiled. "That we shall."

A few more moments of silence.

"Un, get out."

He whined. "I just got comfortable~"

"I need to change."

"Oh fine~"

08/01/19