Grell cackled, stumbling over his own feet until finally he stood in front of Ciel, clutching his abdomen with one hand, swinging the other around. The earl assumed he was searching for support. His speculation was soon confirmed when Grell's left hand found the boy's shoulder and leaned on it, coaxing his right hand to rest on the other shoulder. Their owner was oblivious to the scathing looks he was receiving from the boy. Grell sighed as his laughter tapered off.
"Ronnie, did you get to look at the little brat's face?"
Ciel could hear the other reaper chuckling, which only served as another reason for his blood to boil.
"Yeah, he did look kinda scared."
"I did not look scared," Ciel said, gritting his teeth. "But even if I was frightened, I have every right to be! You burst into my manor this late at night, wake me, and then you expect me to condone such behavior? What—"
Grell yawned, rolling his eyes. "See, I told you; recruiting new reapers is such a bummer. What makes it worse is that I actually know him! Can you believe my luck? It's like the moment I saw this date on his file, I knew he was gonna be assigned to us." He scowled, appraising his nails.
"Oh, come on, he's not that bad. I've seen worse. You've seen worse, Grell. And his soul's still attached to his body, so we don't even have to come back for it—I'm sure he won't be making any trouble for us" the reaper said, patting Ciel's shoulder. The boy let out a low growl before stepping away.
"Would you quit with this nonsense? I'm bloody tired and I have no time for your shenanigans at this hour!" The reaper behind Ciel gave him an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, kid, we've been sent here on a job," he said, and before Ciel could protest, Grell's hands vanished from his shoulders, tautly wrapping themselves around his waist. He then found that his legs were no longer in contact with the floor, giving him a slight sense of unease.
Although he didn't see how something as petty as unease could stop him from grappling with his captor.
With his arms caught between Grell's grip and his own body, the only available weapons were his legs—which he hastily made use of by shoving the heel of his foot in the red-haired reaper's shin.
Apart from a tightening of his grip and a series of expletives directed at the young boy, no other reaction was perceived by Ciel.
Still, he did not cease to kick and struggle, if only for show.
Behind this facade, he smiled. Not because it was amusing, or because he was enjoying this.
He only needed to do something that didn't feel like evading.
It just so happened that doing that would technically be the same thing.
When the two reapers attempted to jump out of the window, he spotted the flailing skirts of a dress.
No.
A woman's nightgown.
He could see the outline of her glasses, the feeble glint of them being raised and placed atop of a head full of plum-red hair, and…
She's not the only one awake.
He knew because he saw a mischievous smile cross her face. It was ephemeral, but she knew he'd spot it. He was looking straight at her after all.
The reapers had seen her too, but not before a bullet whooshed past the blond reaper's nose, instead finding another target: the outer wall of Snake's bedroom.
A warning shot. Just Mey-Rin's way of greeting uninvited guests.
Ciel could almost see the words 'friendly advice' etched on the bullet's casing.
"Shit! That was close."
"We can't kill them, so we'll have to leave before any more of those pesky servants arrive," Grell said, screwing his face up and sticking out his tongue.
Have you never heard of jinxing before?
The trio (or the duo and the reluctant Ciel) moved to the roof of the manor, hoping to avoid any further trouble.
The two reapers wanted to get their job done, and Ciel wanted to return to a warm bed. Any kind of bed would do, as long as he'd be able to rest.
Why did he not listen to Snake when he advised him to get some sleep?
Now with a clear view of the ground below, the earl could see a mop of blonde hair near the garden, trying to remain unseen by hiding behind a statue.
Finnian.
But the gardener never hid. Ciel had nearly forgot about his youngest employee's strength—mental and physical. The statue, like the bullet, whooshed towards them. But Finny's blows were always intended to kill, never to give the targets a warning.
Mey-Rin refused to admit that her missed shots were, in fact, warnings, even though all of the Phantomhive servants (and Ciel) knew otherwise.
Ciel felt Grell's grip loosen as he barely managed to dodge not only the statue, but another bullet. The other reaper wasn't so fortunate. Just as he managed to dive, a bullet smashed into him. Ciel could not make out the exact spot—everything, from articles of clothing to bare skin, was rife with the red substance that Grell adored.
Would he, after this?
They had taken the pair by surprise. They didn't expect another adept shooter.
The cook knew how to take guests by surprise. All he had to do is bake something foul, something the gentry would be repulsed by. Something to drive the visitors away, and to ascertain their permanent departure.
It's that simple.
There are only two options to make sure the visitors never again bother the young master, really. Poison them or give them an unpleasant experience at the manor.
Bard did not have any specific orders, so he decided to spare the intruders.
Just this once. Mey-Rin had fired a warning shot. Finny had hesitated when throwing the statue. He would spare them.
Well. One of them. One was bleeding, and would likely not survive.
The other one. The one with the young master. He looked somewhat familiar, so he chose to spare him.
Grell rushed to his partner, letting go of Ciel altogether.
"Ronnie! Let's get out of here, you're bleeding." When he saw him looking at Ciel, Grell helped him up and said, "With or without the brat!" His arm slung over Grell's shoulder, the reaper snarled, before they both slowly disappeared.
Dissipated into thin air.
Like they were but dust particles.