**Author's Note:: Thank you sooo much for reading this far!
And a special thanks to YukioLover, , Razzeeberry, aandm20, hisangel18, isemansh, Sakura Tsuki206, and LeCustard for reviewing! I really appreciate all the feedback I'm getting! It really helps me and inspires me! ^_^
Please review and tell me what you think about this chapter! What do you think about Sebastian's strange behaviour? :-) Thanks so much for reading! **
...
Undertaker had been right after all, Haven realised, as he opened the door to their dark home only moments after they'd returned home themselves.
She saw Earl Phantomhive standing in the doorway, a navy blue jacket and hood covering his dark hair. His eyepatch and bright blue eye stood out in great contrast against his pale skin.
Alongside the young Earl was his butler, Sebastian, who had no jacket and stood amongst the rain as if he welcomed it's presence.
"Ah, Earl Phantomhive and his butler," Undertaker greeted them as they walked into the building. "My door is always open to the both of you."
The pair entered the room and the young boy took his jacket off with the help of Sebastian, who somehow prevented it from dripping onto the floor.
"Undertaker," Earl Phantomhive greeted. "I assume you know why we're here."
Undertaker laughed suddenly, and put a hand to his hat.
"Ya've come about the murder, haven't ya," he stated, and motioned for them all to sit down.
"Of course," the boy replied. "There's been another, and they're getting more gruesome, I've heard."
Undertaker nodded enthusiastically and then turned toward Haven.
"Haven, my dear, would ya make us some tea?" he asked kindly, and Haven had the sneaking suspicion that he wanted her away from the gossip about the murders.
For some reason, he didn't want her to know much about them.
"Yes, of course," Haven nodded at them all and made her way into the recently found kitchenette.
She hadn't even known it was there before, but she'd seen Undertaker walk out of it just after they'd gotten home from walking.
It was all the way to the right of the main room, behind a door that was so camouflaged that she hadn't been able to spot it before. The door was the exact colour of the walls around it, and the doorknob resembled a knot in the wall if someone glanced too quickly at it.
Haven walked inside and put an old tea kettle on the wood stove to heat up.
She reached up high to remove the teacups from the top shelf of the cabinets, when she suddenly felt someone's hands on her waist.
Startled, she turned around and came face-to-face with Sebastian, the Phantomhive butler.
She gaped up at him in confusion.
"Hello," he smiled up at her, his eyes closing with his politeness. "If you would allow me."
He reached up and handed the cups down to her. She took them from his gloved hands and set them on the counter.
"Thank you," she replied, and tried to take a step away from him.
"Think nothing of it, my lady," Sebastian said. "I am, indeed, a butler. I find that simple chores such as these comfort me, especially in times of great distress."
He gave her another smile, and Haven felt more trusting of him for it.
"I understand," Haven replied, returning his smile. "I bet with Earl Phantomhive looking into the murders, it does cause your household a good deal of distress."
Sebastian gave a small chuckle, and Haven heard the teapot whistle.
She turned around and picked up the kettle, and felt Sebastian put a hand on the small of her back. She almost jumped but refused to let her surprise show.
"Allow me," Sebastian cut in front of her and gently took the pot from her hands. She let him take it and he spun back around to pour the water into the cups.
When he turned back around to help her carry the cups back into the main room, he was giving her an odd expression, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
His red gaze studied her more closely than ever, as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.
"Wh-what?" Haven asked, surprised by his change in demeanour.
"Nothing, my lady," Sebastian recovered quickly, and shook his head a bit. "Please excuse me."
He walked ahead out of the kitchenette to hand the cups in to Earl Phantomhive and Undertaker, who was eyeing her and Sebastian with what seemed to be a confused expression.
Haven took her own tea and sat down, deciding to listen to the conversation against Undertaker's wishes.
The young Earl took his cup and sipped at the tea quietly as Sebastian sat back down.
Haven realised then that the butler hadn't made himself any tea, and she wondered why.
"Undertaker, we believe that we may have a lead in this investigation," the young Earl stated bluntly, and Undertaker leaned forward in his chair in interest.
"A lead, do ya?" Undertaker repeated.
"I had Sebastian do some interrogating of the relatives of the women who were killed," Lord Phantomhive continued.
Sebastian spoke up then, looking down at the floor as he explained the situation to them.
"After interrogating several relatives of the victims, I realised that each woman killed had reported being pursued by a strange man they did not know," Sebastian said.
Suddenly, Haven's mind seemed to cloud over, and a potent sense of déjà vu made her freeze in her seat.
"Each woman told their family members that a strange man would follow them home and ask to court them, becoming agitated whenever he was turned down," Sebastian added.
Undertaker put a hand to his chin in thought.
"Have ya any idea who this man may be?" Undertaker inquired.
"Not at the moment, no," Sebastian replied. "None of the family members had his name, and only two had a description. The mother of the fourth victim said he had dark hair, while the younger sister of the seventh victim said she distinctly remembered him having blond hair."
Haven was having troubles keeping up with the conversation. Her head was swimming and she knew she was probably staring off into nothing.
Undertaker said something that she hadn't heard and then Sebastian added a sentence that confused her.
"I agree," Sebastian said. "Although, it would be much easier if we could simply speak to one of the victims."
Undertaker didn't respond to that, and the young Phantomhive scoffed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Sebastian," he said.
Haven felt as if she couldn't breathe properly, and she vaguely heard as Undertaker gave his opinions on the matter. He told them something about checking the newest victim and finding out how she died, but Haven blocked it out.
"Are you quite alright?" Lord Phantomhive practically demanded of her as he stood to leave. He seemed to ask the question as if she had some contagious disease that could be spread to him somehow.
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and nodded at him.
"O-of course," she replied quietly.
Phantomhive and Sebastian left the building, and Undertaker finally turned back in Haven's direction.
"Ya look like you'll be sick," Undertaker stated, and Haven purposely tried to give him a smile.
"I'm fine," she replied. "Don't worry about me."
...
That night at dinner, Haven was not the least bit hungry, although she knew she had to at least try to eat so Undertaker would not be suspicious of her.
She sat in the main room, deep in thought, her confused mind furiously replaying Earl Phantomhive and Sebastian's earlier conversation.
Haven wondered... Why did their words affect her so strongly?
She knew she had to find out somehow.
The door to the kitchenette slammed open suddenly, and Undertaker crossed the room with a bound in his step.
He handed her a plate of what seemed to be a sandwich, and settled down on his floor like usual, his entire demeanour relaying the sense that he was very content.
Haven had been around Undertaker long enough now, to realise that he had only three usual moods: happy, mysterious, and curious.
Anything other than those three- or even a combination of them- Haven had not yet seen him distinguish.
Even though Undertaker wolfed down his sandwich too quickly for Haven to even comprehend, she couldn't make herself eat.
She took a bite or two, and then became lost in thought, taking the sandwich apart and putting it back together.
"Haven, dear," Undertaker said suddenly, and she looked up at him in curiosity. "You must be feelin' a bit under the weather. Ya haven't eaten and earlier you acted quite strangely... You'd tell me if ya were sick, ya would?"
He cocked his head to the side, as if he were anxiously awaiting her response like a letter from the Queen.
"I..." Haven wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't think that she was sick... But really, how would she know for sure? "I don't know. I'm sorry."
She expected Undertaker to laugh loudly at her apology because she hadn't done anything wrong, but his face suddenly became so serious.
It was the most austere she'd ever seen him before.
Undertaker leaned forward in his seat, slowly, most likely examining her as if she were some sort of dying patient.
His face held no trace of his usual mysterious grin.
Haven gulped as Undertaker's face stopped but mere inches from her own, but she didn't act to lean away.
Suddenly, he reached across the table and gently laid a hand over her forehead to check her body's temperature.
Haven jumped in surprise, but allowed him to continue to check her for fever. She noticed that his hand was unusually soft, and a bit colder than usual, and wondered if they'd always been that way.
"Hm... Seems you're a tad feverish, dearie," Undertaker muttered, seemingly more to himself than anything. "I hope you won't be catching anything."
Haven suddenly realised that he was... Worried. Was she truly that sick? She'd never seen him worry about a single thing since her arrival.
Undertaker removed his hand and leaned his face in closer to her own, his breath fanning across her cheek, making goosebumps rise up on to her arms and the fine hairs at the back of her neck stand up.
"Take your clothes off," Undertaker stated.
Haven's mouth dropped open and she darted up from her seat on the floor, crossing her arms over her chest like they could shield her somehow.
"No!" she replied, in shock, but then another thought dawned on her. "Wait... Why?"
She eyed Undertaker suspiciously, and his grin finally returned onto his serious face.
"I tell ya to take your clothes off and ya wanna know why?" he laughed, leaning back and holding his stomach, practically rolling around on the floor.
"I- but-" Haven said, truly having not a single clue of what it was that she'd been trying to say to him.
Undertaker finally settled down from his amused laughter, and cocked his head at her again.
"The matter is, ya need to sit in an ice bath to bring your fever down, ya do," Undertaker replied.
"I- I need no such thing," Haven stuttered, still surprised at their conversation. "And if I did, I'm still perfectly capable of taking care of that myself... But I'm perfectly fine. I don't have a fever."
"Are ya sure about that, dearie? Your face seems a bit flushed," Undertaker added.
At first, Haven thought he was joking with her again, but then noticed that he was completely serious.
Did he not under that their conversation had embarrassed her? Hadn't he seen someone blush before?
Maybe he hadn't, but Haven didn't want to press the matter any further.
"I'm sure," she finally replied.
Undertaker put a hand to his chin, his long black nails contrasting against his silver hair, like shadowed clouds against the moon.
"It would put me mind to rest if ya took a cold bath anyhow," Undertaker finally stated, not leaving her any room to argue.
"Fine," she replied, and stood up to head into the washroom.