A/N: Welp, I got to about 4.2k words, and I'm a bit late, but sue me. Work and school got to me, but I'm working on time management now that I've recruited a friend to help push me along the way, lmao (you know who you are!). But otherwise, nothing of note here besides a little admission that this chapter was inspired from chapter 3 of Dark Mistress Lady Rose's story Beakers and a Good Laugh. I hope that it isn't plagiarism considering the outcome is way different and a lot more spicy than this innocent one, but I highly encourage you to read it if you haven't yet. But, if it's an issue, let me know. But sincerely, I hope inspiration doesn't work against me for this one.

Now onto the reviews:

BeautifulDisaster0831: Thanks so much for taking the time to review. I'm like you most of the time I follow a story, but it's wonderful to hear feedback. I hope this month's chapter (technically last month, lol) meets your expectations. Thanks again for the review, it's very appreciated.

skaterrockgirl: I never really thought of that, Sebastian not being a people person. I'd always thought he was a people person because of how easy it is for him to manipulate and seduce others. That's a very interesting perspective I'll have to consider, so thank you for that tidbit, even if it was unintentional, lol. Look at me notice the tiny bit of the review compared to what you asked, whoops! But, to answer your main question, for Undertaker, I'd always viewed him as someone more similar to Rachel because he's also not a people person, and considering he's odd and quirky, it might gain Rachel's interest, but then again, he has to do something extra special to really have her attention. And, it is hinted in one of the goals I had for this story, if you recall. Sebastian has it as well, but I think Rachel will be put to the test on how self-aware she is of her desires and if she'll work for it or give them up. Thanks again for the review and info, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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 19 Rachel's POV (1st)
August 28, 1885 - Friday
We sat there moping for a bit, Madame Red and I. I was at a loss for words, especially since I wasn't one to start small talk nor entertain one.

"So, that attire of yours… I'm guessing it's the norm for wherever you've come from?" Madame Red was looking at my shirt and pajamas with a sort of amused and inquisitive look on her face. The previous conversation wasn't lost on her, but I guess the distraction would have to do.

"I guess you can say that. It's far more comfortable than your night dresses, anyhow…" I trailed off.

Her head tilted before her gaze lifted to my hair which segued to our next topic of conversation: my hair.

"Well, I believe I stated something along the lines of teaching you two new hair styles, didn't I?"

I shrugged. "I suppose."

She gave me a sly grin and patted the area on the bed in front of her. "Well, come over here~"

I blanked at the gesture then curled my lip in disgust to which she burst out laughing.

"Oh Elley, surely you know me by now! I won't do anything to you~ Not unless if you ask for it, of course."

I rose an eyebrow. "See, my point exactly. And au contraire, there's much left to be desired." I moved closer anyways, but left enough of a gap that it wouldn't seem deliberate but comfortable enough for her to do what she liked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The pout was evident in her voice.

"Hm, you'll see."

"That's not much of an answer, you know~"

"Not my problem."

Smack!

"Ow! The hell was that for?!"

"Language! A lady never raises her voice nor does she speak out of line~ She does her best to look appealing and feminine but elegant and mature."

Ok? I quirked an eyebrow at that but scoffed. "Who are you calling a lady?"

"Hah, just you wait, dear, your time will come soon enough and you'll regret not paying attention."

"Sure."

"Now, we'll first be learning the French braid, first how to do it on someone else, then ourselves. For your sake, it's easier if you see how it's done, then we'll move on to the next style…"

…

"So like this?"

We had moved to the dresser so we could utilize the mirror for me to observe how she made a French braid. But of course, it took several tries until I was able to successfully braid hers without tangling my fingers. And luckily, her hair wasn't as thick mine, which was a future issue for me considering she was going to teach me how to do it on myself.

"Yes, that's absolutely splendid! And it only took half an hour. Can't say the same for the next part, however, but I suppose it's worth a shot." She sighed, as if she were preparing to face for impending doom for my struggle. "Especially with that thick hair of yours." She wrung out her long hair, combing through it so it was easier to teach me although it wasted the precious time I took to perfect it.

"Now, like you did earlier, part the hair into two and take two smaller portions to twist together and then constantly add a few more strands. Like so, until you reach the end." In no time at all, she already had a braid finished.

I stared with narrow eyes before taking a seat and angling my hair towards the mirror. Madame Red held up another mirror so I could see its reflection.

"Now, don't worry about it not being straight, we'll get to that later."

I sighed. "Of course."

A few more minutes silence, and I gave up. I set them down, leaving half a braid finished which confused Madame Red.

"Is there something wrong, dear?"

I didn't look at her. "My arms are too tired." And they did. The muscles were burning from holding up too long and braiding Madame Red's hair incessantly.

She snorted a bit and waved off my glare. "Aw, aren't you just the cutest? No need to fear, you'll build the stamina in due time. All you need to do is practice. I'm sure you'll perfect it in no time." She glanced at the clock and poured. "Ah, but alas, we've run out of time. It's a quarter til ten, but it's enough time for you to return to your room. I'll have a maid escort you to your room."

"Ah, alright, thanks."

"Mm-hmm~ tata, dear."

I headed to the door and opened it, turning the handle but stopped just before leaving, looking back at her. "By the way, is it alright?"

She looked at me owlishly, having gotten under the covers but still sitting upright. She then smiled, understanding the hidden meaning behind my query. "Oh, I'm sure no one would mind a bit of hair grooming between two women. Now, run along~ can't miss out on our beauty sleep."

I sweatdropped. Sure, if we conveniently left out that it happened in your bedroom. But I shrugged it off. "Very well, Madame. I'll see you tomorrow, in that case."

With that, I was escorted back, bid goodnight, and then left alone with a candle in hand, held by a saucer.

I rubbed my temple, still a bit confused over whatever the hell just happened in the bedroom. I still was unsure with eliciting my burden on someone such as Madame Red. I would've told Undertaker if only I knew he wouldn't try to do something to suit his wants.

I contemplated, getting into the soft bed made of finer material than Undertaker's. Of course, he wasn't rich, but I honestly didn't mind staying under his care. It was comfortable enough, had work needed to be done, and slightly annoying company. Way better than working under a demonic butler.

I shuddered, thinking about the future servants of Phantomhive. To be employed in the manor would require constant servitude to the lords and ladies of the house. I didn't mind hard work, but Undertaker was far easier to deal with and more lax.

Speaking of which, I'd have to begin practicing with Zero. Recently, I'd begin to sense some demonic activity, and it wouldn't be surprising if I were the cause, being half-demon. It may have to do with my scent, but I'm not sure if Undertaker had anything with which to conceal it, therefore only leaving the option of eliminating said threats. Hopefully, none of them would catch any attention.

Snuggling under the covers, I decided that I'd ask Undertaker about for a schedule that allowed me to train. I'm sure he won't mind.

…

August 29, 1885 - Saturday
The next morning passed without much event. I'd woken up, got dressed in my work clothes, had breakfast with the Baroness, and was on my way back to the shop. The Baron was a nice man, but busy so he didn't stick around long. However, I was happy for the both of them, but I knew it would only be short-lived.

Currently, I was perched near the window as the carriage bumbled it's way back to the Undertaker's. My gut was clenched however. So many decisions and so little time.

Although the initial plan to save the Phantomhives seemed feasible, does that mean I had to save Madame Red, too?

My hands fisted unconsciously. Damn it, this wasn't going to work. I'm getting soft, and that's unacceptable for an assassin my caliber. It was time.

Time to get back in the swing of things. I'd gotten too comfortable with my surroundings and it's only been a couple of weeks. My irises burned. Time to call Zero.

Taking out my phone, I tried calling Zero. I don't know if it would work here considering there's no satellites now, but who knew? To my surprise, it dialed once I'd located him and he picked up.

"Rachel? It works here? Wow, who knew~"

"Zero. It's time. Meet me at the forest tonight. We need to practice."

There was a moment of silence as the seriousness of my tone killed the playfulness and registered.

"Alright. I'll meet you there, Ruth."

"Good, I'll send you my coordinates once I've located a good area far from the city."

"Of course, see you then."

I hung up, clutching my phone. Whatever Undertaker was planning shouldn't take too long. At least, I hoped.

The carriage rolled to a stop and I looked out to see the rusty sign of my boss' name. Then the door opened and I got off, thanking the footmen before briskly making my way to the entrance and opening the door. The carriage took its leave as I tried to sense Undertaker's presence.

Where is he?

I couldn't place him anywhere specific, but I could tell he was in here. Was he masking his presence? I warily made my way to the center of his shop, waiting as my fingers itched for my katana.

A coffin lid suddenly burst open and I summoned a make-shift sword from dark energy as it clashed against Undertaker's well-known sotoba. Of course, his attack was a blur as I blocked a flurry of them, then I sensed rather than saw a fist heading my way. I ducked and kicked where he was only to find him gone, of course. Then a scalpel was at my throat and I was caged against a body as the sotoba pinned me from the front at my midsection.

"Hihi~ Is that the best you can do? How disappointing~"

My eyebrow ticked and I swung my sword, making him move towards where my front was which was now my six o'clock, giving me the opportunity to kick him flat on the chest. Then, I manifested several kunai and flicked my wrist, hurtling this towards his direction. But, of course, the fucker blocked it with his sotoba, leaving a neat row of embedded kunai along the transcript.

"Ara~ who knew my weapon would need some ornaments~ hihihi!"

I snorted. "Yeah, maybe your face will do nicely, as well."

He smirked at me. "Now now, were you really trying to kill me?~"

I shrugged. "Do you want me to?"

He smiled back and shrugged. It was then that I noticed that where a dusty footprint on his mortician clothes outlining my heeled boots should be, he was instead wearing a woman's dress. Not that fancy but probably one of many he used to dress his guests with.

I nodded to it, confused. "What's up with that?"

He looked down with an innocent look. "Oh this? Why, I felt like we needed a change of pace. Besides, I did say I had a surprise for you~"

I deadpanned. Which one? The surprise attack or the dress?

He grinned toothily, understanding my hidden question. "Not that, you silly goose~ I meant this!" He pulled out a vial from his sleeve with clawed fingers, presenting it proudly.

I commented blandly, "Wow, that's not suspicious at all."

He pouted, prancing over behind me before settling his clawed hands on my shoulders, making me lean away from his nails but he held on, pulling me back to him gently. "Now, I think you'll like this~"

I curled a lip. "Doubtful."

He snickered. "Do keep an open mind, won't you, dear~ Besides, I did say I had something for your hair better than that store can offer you after allll~"

I glanced at him skeptically before swatting his hands away. "Fine, give it here, then. I'll make sure to use it tomorrow when I wash." I held out a hand.

Instead, he grinned and pulled his hand back before using a flashy move to hide the vial again God knows where. "Ah ah ah~ There's something I require from you first."

I sighed. "What?"

"Allow me to wash your hair."

My eyes slitted. "Why?"

"Why not?" He mocked back.

I could feel a vein threaten to pop. I did not have the patience for this. "Fine, do what you want."

He grinned more, not helping the already queasy feeling I had in my stomach. I did trust him enough to not do anything to me in my sleep, besides pranks of course, but everything else? Hell no.

I shook my head before making my way to the bathroom, feeling him trail behind me. I opened the door to find that he'd already prepared for the activity with the basin full of water, a bunch of towels, and my shampoo nearby plus the vial he hid. I have a very strong gut feeling he would've gotten his way otherwise, no matter how I responded. Maybe even sling me over his shoulder and drag me here.

I looked behind to find him peering over my shoulder with a smile. "Well~"

I pointed at his dress. "First off, change outta that. I'm not letting you wash my hair in /that/."

He frowned before looking down and pinching some fabric to try and make himself look cute. Note, try. "What's wrong with my dress?"

"Everything else but the dress."

He stuck his lower lip out, even revealing an eye which just made the clash of themes even more confusing. What was he even trying to achieve with this? "And what do you mean by that, love?"

"I mean that men are not supposed to wear dresses. And certainly not you if you don't want an influx of guests to die from heart attack." I crossed my arms, staring him dead in the eye.

Then, he slumped over and looked down, and I just felt bad all of a sudden. He was just some old retired reaper, trying to have some fun and here I was, raining on his parade. "Look, you're probably going to ruin that dress if you wash my hair wearing that. Just change into something else and you can dress up some other day. I'll even do what you want later on. Just, get out of that thing." I rubbed my forehead, not looking at him in the hopes that it would ease my conscience.

Why was I even getting emotional over something as stupidly trivial as this?

"Really?~" He looked at me hopefully, and just glancing at that face ruined my prior self-will.

"Yes, now hurry up! I need to change into something else, too. I don't want these clothes to get messed up." I looked down at myself and decided that a shirt, jeans, and a hoodie might suffice… as soon as he's out the door.

I looked back up to see a grin spread like wildfire across his face as he clapped his hands excitedly before he was out the door.

Since I didn't know how long he'd take, I decided to simply manifest clothing from my dark energy to make it easier before setting up the area as he prepared. Then I noticed that there was only a stool and paused.

How in the world did he plan to wash my hair when there's only one seat for two of us?

A click of the heel near the entrance of the door grabbed my attention, and I noticed he'd forgone the outer coat and scarf he usually wore, now only dressed in his slimmer priestly looking clothes. I had no clue how to call it, but it complimented his figure nicely and made him look less old, if you asked me. He still had the blue bead necklace on but had tied back his long hair to prevent them from impeding his work. He'd also clipped back his bangs, surprisingly, so his whole face was revealed, but he wore no glasses. Hm.

Unaware that I was staring at him, he suddenly tilted his head and smiled coyly at me. "Like what you see?"

My face blanked. "There's only one stool here. How do you plan on proceeding with this?"

He giggled, but it came out less high-pitched. "Well, now, like this~" He situated himself to sit on the rim of the bath tub, his back to the opening of it so he faced me, but could still access the faucet within arm's reach. He then patted his lap and grinned looking up at me.

My face was stony. "You want me to lay my head on your lap?"

He smirked. "How else did you expect me to wash your hair?~"

I twitched as a sudden thought occurred to me. How could a mopey depressed mortician suddenly turn into this?

My eyes narrowed, still not convinced enough to sit on the stool and subject myself to whatever treatment he had in store for me. "Why can't I just wash my own hair? I don't see why you need to trouble yourself."

Go me. Eloquence increased by .1.

The smirk got wider. "Well, just think of it as an act of gratitude for your hard work."

I sighed. No matter what I'd do or say, this guy would always have a comeback ready.

So, I did the sensible thing and gave up.

"Alright, you win." I set myself on the stool, ignoring the amused giggling and laid back only to find resistance which was his hand holding the back of my head gently.

"Just a minute," he stated softly as he brought the basin into his lap that had a smoothed curve on one side which I guessed was supposed to support my neck. The Undertaker covered it with a soft towel to make it more comfortable before positioning my head so it was comfy. "Now, just relax. This will only take a moment~"

"Sure," I replied, a bit uncertain. He was being uncharacteristically nice for whatever reason. He was also using his deeper voice which sounded soothing to the ear, and more gentle than I'd ever heard him use on anyone else.

Looking up, I noticed that I had a very clear view of his face, and not having realized the close proximity of his face to mine made me embarrassed, which hinted at the blush in my ears, but it subsided quickly as I willed myself to gain composure.

Of course, Undertaker noticed, but a twitch of a smile and a deep chuckle was all he offered before he set to work.

I decided to simply close my eyes and wait it out. It was better than awkwardly staring at him, in my honest opinion.

As I had assumed, the basin was filled with warm water which I could feel as my hair soaked, but combined with the sensation of Undertaker's hands and nails combing through my hair made me incredibly sleepy. So much so that I hadn't noticed I'd dozed off, completely relaxed.

It wasn't until he spoke up that I startled awake.

"You see, I felt bad about what happened."

My eyes snapped open, and I stiffened on instinct, gathering my senses. Shit, I fell asleep.

I looked up to check his face to find that his eyes were already on mine, patiently waiting for me to calm down before continuing.

"Feel bad about what?"

I shifted, trying to find something to do so I didn't fall back asleep. He'd gone back to lathering my hair with shampoo before rinsing it off.

"About what happened before the hug~"

Ah, so he was talking about that. That's peculiar.

"So, this is your way of making up for it?"

He smiled softly, eyes a bit remorseful. "Besides other things~ I never gave you a proper apology, now that I think about it. Hihi, how you manage to deal with this old man's antics are quite the impressive feat, dear~"

I blinked, looking up at him before closing my eyes again. "Its no big deal. Besides, you didn't really harm me, anyways. Nothing to worry about."

He smiled wryly at me, tapping my cheek gently to gain my attention. "I did ruin a bit of your trust, however~ Didn't I?"

I looked up at him. "Maybe you did, but that's in the past now. You've realized that your version of a joke sucks and I learned that you're a boss who likes to have fun. Even if it's somewhat odd and quirky. But I don't mind, so long as you're not up to anything sketchy."

He giggled. "Oh, you and your odd way of speaking~ hihihi, if that's alright with you then so be it~" He hummed away as he started adding the oils and I turned to my internal turmoil.

How could I have fallen asleep?! It's just as I suspected in the carriage. I didn't like how at ease I felt around Undertaker. Although it wasn't a bad thing, I could only sense some sort of foreboding in the future from this. My mind was screaming to get away from here, yet my body was too sluggish to act.

How long had it been since I'd lived with someone who genuinely cared for my well-being? Someone who didn't look at me like I was some financer but actually enjoyed my company?

Zero was my first defense, yet deep down, I really knew it was an excuse. We wouldn't last long as assassins, and if things turn out the way I expected, which would be my untimely death, it would only end up hurting Undertaker.

I contemplated. But even then, just leaving Undertaker with no explanation would be just as cruel. Oh, what to do?

Surely enough, my mind recognized the signals and was giving me warning signs to not get too comfortable, to keep my distance. Yet, I wanted to indulge just a bit more. Be selfish for a bit.

As much as it hurt my own moral code of being selfless, I was tired being hurt by people who only wanted me for something. It's tiring to be constantly hated and unwanted. Sure, I may not care about what they think, but overtime it wears down a person.

For now, I'll enjoy what I have. It was only a matter of letting Undertaker know and easing him into it. I couldn't risk attachment, especially not in the time period and occupation I'm in.

I had to be ready to cut the ties when need be.

…

Silence bathed the bathroom as he finished up with the oil before drying my hair with towels.

"My dear, I'm pretty sure you've been told this before, but you've rather beautiful hair. Pretty thick, too, hihi~" I could feel him tug at it playfully, and my eyelids cracked open enough to level a small glare on him.

"Yeah yeah, have your fun while it lasts. You're lucky yours is so thin."

He snickered. "Mayhaps because I'm a man, love?"

My eyebrow rose. "What's that got to do with anything?

He tapped my nose. "It's got everything to do with it, m'dear~ Now, give me a minute to dry your hair. You do have that appointment with the Phantomhives, after all."

"Hm, I suppose."

"How's that been coming along?"

I shrugged. "I've yet to see if any talent will arise. It's not as though they'll become musicians, but we'll see."

"Hihi, is that right?"

I hummed, running a hand down my face before realizing that my whole face was exposed. I froze. Then stared up at Undertaker.

"Hm? Something the matter, dear?"

I felt a stab of panic as I suddenly covered my scar. How did I not notice?

"Ah, your scar~ I was wondering where you got it from~ Seems like someone's been hiding their own secrets, neh~" He smiled at me as he ran a finger down the length of my scar, beginning from just above by right brow to below my eye.

I grabbed his hand, feeling a shiver run up my spine at the sensitive touch before he surprised me and grabbed my hand to place against his scar.

I stilled, unsure but nonetheless I ran it along the length from under his jaw to just the bridge of his nose, shy of his left eye then retracted my hand. His eyes widened at the motion, lips parted in surprise before they focused on me.

I swallowed, feeling weird but tingly. I don't know what that was about, but that felt incredibly intimate, whatever the hell just happened. My scar still tingled as did my finger, and he was staring at me rather intently. Almost like he could see inside me. And with eyes as piercingly green as his, I wouldn't doubt it.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, if you're done drying my hair, we still have work to get to before my piano lesson with the twins."

He blinked, broken from whatever spell he was transfixed by and ducked his head to allow the bangs to fall forward and cover what seemed like a blush on his face. "Ah yes, of course. We should get on that, yes~ Hihi!"

The moment I sat up, he scurried out of the bathroom, leaving me speechless. Okay then, I suppose I'll have to tell him about my practice with Zero later on. Whether or not that would be daily or every other day would need to be discussed.

But for sure, I needed to be on top of my game if I were to keep up with my change in plans. Not only did my life count on it, but everyone else as well.

09/30/19