The fire crackled, keeping the house warm against the weather outside. It was getting colder out, which meant that Senga really needed to finish her weaving. With several children and a husband to clothe, she had her work cut out for her, but she knew she could do it and have enough left over to trade when she was done. Repetitive movements were no bore to her. She found it relaxing, leaving her able to zone out a bit without having a single thread out of place. She had been doing this her whole life, after all. Her clawed hands knew the motions and she executed them brilliantly each time.
Then her concentration was shattered as two of her kids came stomping through the door. "Brodie fell and got muck all over himself!" the younger shouted.
"Shut up! I didn't do it on fucking purpose!" shouted the older.
They were two young wulver—one boy and one girl, still in that awkward stage where they hadn't quite grown into themselves proportionally yet. They were somehow both lanky and fluffy with their natural coats bulking up for winter. The smaller one had fur in a warm brown colour while the redder of the two had most of his surly face and the front of his clothes covered in mud sheep shit.
"Don't you dare track that into my house!" the woman shouted, turning to face them. Her reddish-brown fur bristled and her greying snout wrinkled as she shot them both a look that let them know what's best for them. She wasn't nearly as lanky or thin as the other two, but that suited her just fine. It just meant that she could easily knock them both over with a good walloping for messing up her floors again, so the two teens dutifully started taking off their boots by the door. "What happened?"
"Brodie got too close to one of the rams and it knocked him over." the young lady replied.
"I did not! I was just trying to feed the ewes when it attacked me!" Brodie replied.
"You know you can't turn your backs on the rams—especially this time of year. It's lambing season." With her hands on her hips, she looked at the lad and uttered a sigh. With one hand, she reached up and rubbed the side of her face. "Leave your jumper with me and go wash up. I'll see what I can do about it."
Such is life for Senga and her family. Things aren't always tranquil and managing the household was sometimes labour intensive, but apart from that, it wasn't too terribly exciting and that was how she liked it. Some of the elder wulver on the island were worried about that, though and to some extent, so was she. With few people living there with each passing year, things were becoming more difficult. Trade with the selkie folk kept them afloat in some instances, but they got by. Really, the only reason it concerned her was the fact that she had children who were going to strike out on their own one day and if she had anything to say about it, she wanted them to have something to show for it.
She sniffed and blinked a few times, straining her eyes as the setting sun somehow managed to hit the window just right and shine directly into them. It had been a while, now, but she had a fine piece of fabric to show for it. Maybe it would become a coat or a blanket—she hadn't quite decided yet. She would have to take stock to see what was needed, first.
Carefully, Senga folded the fabric to store, only to huff and roll her eyes at the sound of another commotion at her door. She wasn't expecting a knock, but figured that one of her kids had locked themselves out. Needless to say, she didn't feel any strong urge to answer it promptly. Instead, she took her sweet time, folding the cloth nicely and carefully putting it away before heading toward the front. The knocking had become more aggressive.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'! Calm down, you won't die of exposure or anything!" she answered, undoing the latch. Instead of one of her children, however, she was greeted by the sight of several gentlemen, including her own husband, who seemed very concerned with keeping the oldest in the front standing upright.
Wulver did not age like humans. They may have a wrinkle here and there and their eyes may seem a bit sunken, but the man didn't look that old by human standards. In reality, he was very old by wulver standards. The fur of his face was almost completely white with only a few flecks of grey here and there. Legend held that when he was a young pup, his fur was completely black, but now he was whiter than a ghost in his old age. His shoulders slouched and his back seemed to be perpetually curved as he leaned very heavily on the walking stick with him.
At age ninety-three, Dubh was the oldest wulver on the island. That meant that he had a relatively important place in the community when it came to politics—not that Senga particularly cared. She was far more concerned with why her husband—the brown-furred wulver accompanying him—had brought Dubh to her house. Still, she plastered on a smile, addressing the taller and younger of the two men first.
"Hello, Love. Welcome home." she greeted before turning her head toward Dubh. "Hi, Dubh. What trouble has my husband gotten you involved in, now?"
"No trouble at all." Dubh replied. "At least, no trouble caused by him. Can I come in?"
"Sure!" She answered surely, but gave her husband a look as she stepped aside and let the old man enter. Her husband in response looked very apologetic. "I'll put the kettle on." She informed, allowing Dubh to settle down in her living room and sit in one of her good chairs. She hated it when guests sat in her good chairs. They were too comfortable. If people were too comfortable, they wouldn't want to leave when they were due.
Still, she was a good hostess and stepped through to the kitchen to prepare some tea to offer the man. She thought she might get a moment to gather herself before she went back out there, but her husband followed her.
"I'm really sorry about this…" he began in a hushed tone. "I tried to convince him not to pick you, but I was ganged up on at the meeting…"
"Pick me for what?" Senga questioned, matching his volume. "Harris, I swear if you've pulled me into something…"
"I didn't do it. Like I said, I voted against it and tried to persuade the others. But they don't want to do it, either. You know how we've contacted HELLSING for help, right? To get more people in?"
"Harris…" she warned without uttering her warning.
"They're sending an ambassador to talk to Lockie and the rest of the selkies."
"Ha! Lockie won't listen to some English suit! You, I, and everyone else knows that. They're wasting their time… So what do they want me to do about it? I'm not going over there to talk to that big bastard and his lesbian sister."
"Now, now—I don't like them either, but you can't be saying stuff like that where people might here you…" Harris insisted.
"It's true, though! Lockie's a big bastard who thinks throwing his weight around is going to solve all his problems and let him push other people around and his sister's a lesbian! I don't have proof, but just one look at her and—psh! That's a lesbian, Harris. I'd bet money on it. I'm not trying to be disrespectful—I'm just stating facts."
"Where do you even—nevermind. You're distracting me!"
"Am I?"
"Yes!"
"I am, am I?"
"Yes, you are!"
"Am I, really?"
"Ye—enough!" Harris huffed, holding up his hands as if to physically halt her from carrying on any further. "Woman, I am trying to warn you. Point is, you've got your grandma's old house, right?"
"The key's somewhere around here, yeah."
"They want you to put HELLSING's man up there for a bit. Make sure he's got everything he needs."
Indignantly, the woman huffed and harshly set down the tray of biscuits and cups she had been assembling with a clatter. Turning to her husband, she placed a hand on her hip while leaning her weight on the other against the counter.
"You're off your trolley, old man." she accused. "And just where am I going to find the time between looking after the kids, the house, the farm, and making sure we have enough clothes for winter to take care of some English suit while he comes in to get his brains bashed in by Lockie?"
"Love-"
"I'm not doing it, Harris and that's final! I'm not bloody doing it! And I'm gonna tell Dubh as much!"
A day later, a certain blonde man stood on train platform with a trolley full of bags, accompanied by a shaggy-haired associate with a fur-trimmed cape and significantly fewer bags. Also with him was a whole gaggle of suspicious-looking folks known as his family. He stood wearing a white shirt and tie underneath a purple sweater with the letter "J" on it that was gifted to him by his cousin-in-law. Over that, he wore a long, black coat for good measure—the bottom of which reached to about halfway down his calves. The most suspicious individual standing in his group wore a matching coat, but had a very distinct "organised crime" look to him—especially with his eyepatch. Despite the way he was dressed, Ciel offered him a reassuring smile.
"Are you really sure I need all of this?" Jim questioned with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head. "Kayleigh's only got two bags."
"Well, knowing you, I knew you'd want space for souvenirs and such. Mostly, I just want you to be prepared. Scotland is a long way away and I can't come help you as quickly as I'd like if you run into any trouble."
"It's not like you packed any extra weapons. Mostly it's different types of dress."
"Any trouble." Ciel reiterated. "You never know if you might have to go to a formal gathering or a casual luncheon."
"I'm sure I will find a way to survive." sarcastically nodded the menace. His eyes then fell on his brothers, who stood there awkwardly, waiting for the Phantomhives to stop talking.
"Alright, kiddies," Jim continued, placing his hands on his hips. He approached the pair, starting with Revy. "Don't you go anywhere until I get back. Unless you find a really good place that might be snatched up right away unless you act, of course, but still! I don't want to miss my little brother moving out for the first time."
"I'll try not to." Revy replied. "I still need to get furniture and stuff anyway. I'd rather not sleep on the floor."
"Suit yourself. You're majorly missing out on the bachelor pad experience that way, though." the menace said with a playful shrug, prompting his sibling to roll his eyes.
"I'm not even gonna touch that one…" answered the revenant, earning a wink and a pair of finger guns from the older man.
Luka's turn was a bit "more" with the blonde leaning down slightly so that he was almost eye-level with the boy. "Luka~" he began in a sing-song voice, putting a hand on the lad's shoulder. He was smiling sweetly, but it felt like more of a warning than anything else. "Ciel is in charge of your training while I'm gone, so be sure to listen to whatever he says, okay~?"
"What if he says that smoking and drinking is okay like he did with Revy?" the youngest of the Macken brothers inquired quasi-innocently. He couldn't help but stir the pot one last time.
"Then I'm going to have to give him a serious thrashing when I get back, aren't I?" Jim suggested, showing Luka his clenched fist. With a pat to the boy's shoulder and a kiss to the forehead that was wiped off immediately after by the lad, Jim turned his attention to the servants.
"Finny, keep continuing to make the place look pretty, will you? Oh, and be careful with trips to the hardware store with Luka, will you?"
"Of course, Sir." somewhat nervously chuckled the gardener as the menace at last turned his attention to Sebastian.
"Sebastian… Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian… Dearest Sea-bass…" he began, firmly planting both hands on the taller man's shoulders. "Please, oh, please, for the love that is good—Please make sure none of them end up dead and that the house is still standing. You're the only one I can truly trust with this mission…"
"Excuse me!" blurted out the blonde's husband from somewhere behind him. Jim's serious expression only cracked slightly with the smallest of twitches from the corners of his mouth. Sebastian only laughed—both at the request and the outburst from his master.
"Yes, your highness." offered the butler with a slight bow, inadvertently shaking off Jim's hands. "I will see to that everything remains running ship-shape in your absence."
"Of course. You do know that I'm aware you do the lion's share of keeping things up and running, right? I can't tell if you know that I'm joking sometimes."
"Oh, no, I'm fully aware, Sir." Sebastian smiled. "After all with all of the help you've given me in the kitchen and in maintaining the household, I don't think I could ever ask for a better 'lady of the manor' than you."
"Damn right." Jim snorted. "I believe in you!"
With that, the baronet turned and sauntered over to his pouting beau. "Now, that just leaves you…" he trailed off, reaching out to touch the other man's face. Deft fingers brushed against the Earl's jaw with feather-like touch, trailing down to the tip of his chin as Jim returned to his original spot in front of the group. The blonde looked him directly in the eye with a catlike grin, chortling at how instantaneously the Earl's cheeks became dusted in pink hue.
"Oh? I thought you were done with me." scoffed the Earl. As the menace drew closer, the Earl pressed his lips into a thin line as if to hide them from the menace. It was an instinctual response to Jim gently cupping the sides of his face.
"Oh, you know I could never be done with you, my love..."
Despite Ciel's gesture, he still allowed Jim to place the sweetest of kisses against his lips. For a moment, Ciel forgot that his servants, the Mackens, and the general public were right there to see them. Instead he focused on Jim and how this might be one of the last kisses from him he may get for quite some time. Even the way that Jim giggled as he pulled away filled him with yearning.
Then, Ciel's eye went wide and he startled the menace with a light gasp. "Oh! Before you go…" he began, rummaging around his coat pocket. A surprised Jim watched the clumsy gesture with raised eyebrows before finding himself with a nondescript looking white box thrust in his direction. "Uh, here… This is for you. I meant to put it in with your luggage but I ran out of time."
"You? With all of your planning?" laughed the menace, taking the box from the Earl's hand. His eyes flickered up from the box to Ciel's face to gauge his expression, only to be further delighted with how bashful he seemed. Carefully, Jim opened the box without tearing it and pulled out a bottle. "Oh! It's cologne! Wait… I recognise this kind…"
"It's, uh… It's the kind I always wear…" Ciel answered while averting his gaze. It was amazing how one could seem so haughty and so bashful at once, but the Earl was a master at it, keeping up a dignified pout despite his flushed face. "I thought you might like to have it, uh—y'know… In case you miss me…"
Jim practically melted on the spot. He was beaming. He was starry-eyed. He was in love with this man and did not wish to give him up. In an instant, his arms thrust forward and wrapped around his husband's neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Of course I'm going to miss you! I'm going to miss you terribly!" he declared for all to hear. "It's too late to back out, isn't it? I can't take you with me, can I? I wish I could just scoop you up into my pocket and take you with me!"
He could feel the Earl relax in his grip. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him just as tightly as he squeezed his beau. Ciel uttered a long sigh into the blonde's ear, finding himself content in this moment. It was a shame that it had to end.
"I know, Darling… But you'll have to settle for my scent, I'm afraid."
"You'll miss me, too, won't you?" the blonde asked. It was an innocent question, but the Earl knew better.
"I'm afraid I won't know what to do with myself without you." Ciel answered. "I have meetings and I plan on going to tea with Van Volkinburg, but still, I'll have to come home to a house without you in it and I dread the thought. I will miss you, but I will cope for you. Your mission is important and I know you will come home triumphant in your endeavours. Just please be safe, is all I ask."
"I will." grinned the menace as a kiss was placed to his cheek.
"I love you, Jimmy."
"I love you, too. I love you so much, Ciel…" The moment the words left his mouth, their lips found each other again—just trying to savour having the other close to them for a little longer. Sadly, they parted again, realising that they must. The moment they did, however, the sound of a woman clearing her throat could be heard behind Jim.
"Uh, Sir, we need to go soon or we'll miss the train." Kayleigh interrupted, having waited for quite some time until she felt like awkwardness was a small price to pay to get them back on schedule. She stiffened as the blonde glanced toward her for a moment before turning his attention back to the Earl.
"Duty calls." he said, backing away. Holding the bottle in one hand, he ran the other down Ciel's arm, squeezing the Earl's fingers for just a moment too long—yet not long enough to keep the Earl from reaching out for him once he let go. Backing away from the group he opened one of his bags and placed the cologne inside before zipping it back up and holding onto the cart it sat on. Joining his escort at her side, he paused to look back and wave.
"Goodbye, family~! You behave yourselves~!" he called out.
"Ca-call me when you get there!" Ciel urgently answered, only for the menace to smile and blow him a kiss. With worry apparent on his face, the Earl watched as his husband slowly disappeared into the crowd in pursuit of his train. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Ciel sighed, already regretting allowing his beau to go without him. It needed to happen, but that didn't mean that he had to like it.
"Cheer up, my lord," began Sebastian, "I'm sure that he will be fine."
"Yeah, if anything, it's the Scottish you should worry about." Revy added, but the Watchdog simply shook his head.
"I know. That still doesn't make it easy." he said. Straightening his posture, he turned on his heel and approached the group, forcing them to part like the red sea as he passed through them. "Right. That's settled. There's no use in loitering about, here."
"Wait, that's it?" questioned the revenant. "You were all clingy just a second ago!"
"I agree, my lord." the butler concurred, folding his arms and bringing a hand up to his chin. "It is rather surprising that you would leave so quickly. You're such a devoted spouse that it seems a bit out of character." The way he emphasised the word "devoted" got under the Earl's skin somewhat, as intended. It was poking fun and Ciel didn't like that.
"Jim has already left. We have successfully seen him off. It's done. Now get off it so we can go home." huffed Ciel, but naturally, they couldn't pass up an opportunity that good.
"What's got him all grouchy?" Luka questioned in a hushed tone—although not hushed enough to conceal it.
"He misses his beloved 'Jimmy' already and it's only been a few seconds." answered Revy at equal volume.
"My husband may not be here, but I am still the head of the house so I am still in charge." practically growled the Watchdog with a light pink tint to his cheeks. "Now come along quickly before I leave you all here."
"Yes, my lord." replied the group in unison, prompting the Earl to make a double-take. He stared back at them incredulously, searching for some sign that it was all a joke only to shake his head when he found none. Turning back toward the exit, he ran his hand down his face with a very prominent roll of his visible eye.
"This is going to be one hell of a long month…" he grumbled before shoving his hands in his coat pocket. "Let's go."
With the blonde gone, Ciel was going to learn just how long a month without him could be. They had been parted for such an amount of time before, but without the threat of death or torture that came with a kidnapping to distract him, Ciel would be forced to do normal, everyday things instead. The thought filled him with dread, quite frankly. At least Jim had something to do to pass the time.
Oblivious to his husband's peril, Jim sat comfortably while watching the scenery pass him by on the train, finding the experience to be extremely exciting despite the circumstance. HELLSING would have provided a car, but a train was faster and it probably wouldn't help them past the ferry ride to the island they needed.
"Have you ever taken the train before, Sir Phantomhive?" Kayleigh questioned, interrupting his thoughts. It was a welcome interruption, though. "Oh, wait, you probably have…"
"Actually, no. This is my first time." he grinned. "I couldn't afford it, before, but even after I could, I never had any reason or opportunity to, still."
"Really? You navigated getting tickets really well."
"Fake it 'til you make it. That's the unofficial Macken family motto! Ciel explained the process to me and after that, I just acted confident. Looking like you know what you're doing is sometimes more important than actually knowing what you're doing, you know."
"Is that something you apply to diplomacy?" the woman questioned.
"Oh, it's essential for diplomacy, Miss Kayleigh. It's one of the most useful tools at our disposal! What about you, though? Have you ever ridden a train?"
"I've been on the tube with some of the girls on our day off, before, but not one like this one. It's sort of fancy."
"Right? So's the ferry we'll be taking, supposedly. At least one of them. The last one will be a dingy used by the locals to come pick us up. I'm not really looking forward to it, if I'm honest."
"Does it have to do with cats not liking water?"
"No, I had a particularly nasty mission that led out to sea a while back." the baronet stated, scrunching up his nose. "I haven't liked the ocean since. I even got sick on the ferry to France when Ciel and I went on honeymoon!"
In response the women checked her watch. "Well, we've got a few hours until the next switch off, so you've got time." she said.
"Not enough time." the blonde thought hours later as he struggled to gain his sea legs. The train ride had been pleasant with riveting conversation about the mission and the things going on in each others' life. Kayliegh explained how Claire had fully recovered from her injuries at Van Volkinburg's house with the help of Oliver, and expressed her incredulousness at how the leader of their clan seemingly fought every step of the way. It reminded Jim of his own spouse a bit, so he was able to relate to the story very well.
Eventually they crossed over into Scotland, finding themselves in the country for the first time. It was colder than England, if that were even possible, making Jim ever-so-grateful for the bright purple sweater that Elizabeth had mad for him several Christmases ago. A HELLSING agent from the Scottish branch met them at the station and drove them to port in an unmarked car. He was a chipper, bespectacled, fellow by the name of MacMillan, wearing a regular suit so as to not stand out. Embroidered on the breast pocket, however, was the HELLSING coat of arms, making him immediately obvious to his fellow agents. For good measure, however, he was quick to flash his badge and requested to see the others' before loading them up in the car. Kayleigh sat in the back seat while the actual demon sat up at the front.
"So, MacMillan, what is it that you usually do?" Jim asked, trying to make small talk. The fellow seemed a bit stiff so he thought he might try to lighten the mood. "Do you have a lot of people to transport?"
"Me? Oh! Sometimes. Mostly, I pick up people from the main office when they come for inspections. I've even picked up Sir Integra a few times!" the agent replied, taking one hand off the steering wheel to push up his glasses. "Just in a nicer car…"
"That's cool. Does transport give you a Benz or a Rolls Royce or something?"
"It's usually a Benz! I hear she prefers the Royce, though! I was pretty amazed we even had one of those!"
"Yeah, she does, but it's not the silliest car I've seen. At the main office, there's even a transport unit disguised as an ice cream truck. It's the goofiest thing… Though I know that I personally would love to have some ice cream before getting dropped off for a mission."
Laughing, the other man shook his head. "Sorry. I'm advised to go straight to port. But if there's ice cream there, you're welcome to get it yourself!" Looking up at the rearview mirror, however, he saw the woman in the backseat furrow her brow and immediately, he went quiet. The only sound he made was him awkwardly clearing his throat.
"Relax, Kayleigh. It's just a bit of banter." Jim reassured before turning back to MacMillan. "I don't mind it. I get that it's a respect thing to not joke with higher ups, but it makes the ride so much more pleasant, I think."
"Ah, well, some people like talking and others don't." MacMillan answered.
"Sir Integra doesn't, I bet?"
"Absolutely not! I keep my eyes on the road and don't say a word."
"Sounds about right." laughed the menace. "She's a nice lady. I don't have much respect for the aristocracy, but she's one of the few who absolutely deserves it. I do get that she's also terrifying, though."
"So terrifying…"
"Gets you out of the office, though, I bet."
"It does, but at that rate, I'd rather do paperwork!"
"Is she any worse than the demon and faoladh, though?"
"I… Don't think there is a good way to answer that…"
"What about wulver or selkies?" Jim questioned. "Has your lot ever had trouble with them?"
"Wulver? No. They stay on their island and don't stray from it. There's no right ferry that goes to it, so unless someone gets a little too adventurous and decides to try it in a proper vessel, they don't have any contact with humans. Just an agent that goes there to check up on them or pick up some idiot who tried to go to the island themselves." MacMillan explained, nudging his glasses again. "As for the selkies, they're on the Northern side of the island that faces away from other land, though they have caused trouble with fishing vessels in the past. They don't like people getting too close to their water, but for the most part? No. They keep to themselves, too."
"Good to know. That matches up with the intel we've got, so that seems promising."
"I suppose, but nobody really interacts with them so it's a bit spotty. The wulver, we know, are rumoured to be peaceful, but it's only rumour."
"I'll take my chances. Between me and Kayliegh, even if they try to start something, I think we'll be well equipped to handle it."
"I hope so." the other man laughed somewhat nervously. "If we don't hear from you every few days, we'll send someone out to investigate, so remember to check in regularly."
"Roger that. Hopefully you don't get sick of hearing from me!"
Jim was in good spirits for the entire ride, waving the helpful agent "goodbye" upon being dropped off and refusing his help in pulling his bags from the boot. He was a bit of a silly sight with bags strapped to him every which way. If they hadn't all matched one might look at him next to Kayleigh and think that he was merely helping with all of hers. She slung one of her two bags over her shoulder and carried the other in her hand, stopping to offer assistance but once again, help was refused. Jim was much stronger than he looked, after all. They were practically weightless to him.
But in the end, he still found himself in a sickly state as soon as the smell of the sea hit his nose. Jim, a demon who take all manner of damage from crushing blows, to stabbings, to gunshots from high calibur weapons and simply shrug them off, felt himself rapidly weaken even before the boat started moving. He still had more ways to go before he was finally on dry land for the rest of the venture.
At least these ferries were equipped for him to have a comfortable place to lay down and get the salty air out of his lungs for a bit—nauseously swaying with the boat as he was unable to escape the putrid feeling. That's where he spent most of his time while Kayleigh was up on the deck enjoying the view. The sun was peeking through the clouds, lighting up the otherwise grey skies. The water was deep blue and she could see the green of each island as they passed. She couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing the way that the baronet seemed visibly relieved once they hit land.
His feet wavered and his legs wobbled, but he was upright, and able to breathe despite the stench. They sat at the dock, waiting for the next boat and the man recovered somewhat, until the hypnotic sound of rushing waves drilled its way into his head. It roared and hissed in a steady rhythm, calling out to him from the endless dark. Night had fallen, concealing it's image, but Jim knew better than "well" that night did not deter the elements in the slightest. If anything, it made them bolder as harsh winds pelted their cheeks.
"Are you alright?" Kayleigh questioned, tilting her head as she tried to get a look at the man's face. He sat slumped over, staring down at his feet. His gloved hands clasped together tightly, making the leather squeak.
"I'll be fine…" he replied, speaking sporadically in an attempt to be succinct. "I'm not hurt. I'm not sick. I'll be fine once I'm away from the water… Ugh…" Heart racing, the baronet felt a bit woozy. "I'm not actually sick. It's just in my head…"
"From that mission?" the woman inquired further.
"Yeah… Just let me sit for a while… The next boat is probably going to be hell…"
Furrowing her brow, the woman frowned, trying to think of a way to help the man. Unfortunately, Kayleigh wasn't exactly knowledgeable in how to help demons, as her training centered almost exclusively on how to destroy them. It hadn't occurred to her that they might suffer from psychological problems, somehow, but Jim was a normal person, so she didn't find it all that shocking. She just wished there was something she could do for him apart from waiting.
A flicker of light caught her attention as it flashed across her face. It passed through her fingers as she turned toward the sea, holding out a hand and squinting to save her eyes. The light passed them, but she could still see it's source: A small, old, fishing vessel quietly drifting toward the dock. Kayleigh nudged the man sitting next to her as she watched it slow to a stop.
"Sir Phantomhive, is that it?" she questioned, pointing at the vessel.
"Hm?" Groggily, the baronet raised his head and got a good look at the boat. Hobbling to his feet, he watched it for a moment before offering a shrug. "Maybe?"
"They lowered a ramp, but nobody's disembarked."
"They might not, if my sources are right." Jim answered. Then, with the most unenthused sigh the woman had possibly ever heard, he continued. "Shall we investigate?"
"Right…" Tentatively, Kayleigh followed behind, darting her eyes back and forth from the ship to Jim. She noticed his legs were a bit unsteady and his pace was slow. It was obvious that he didn't really want to approach, but he was putting on a brave face anyway. Reaching into his pocket, be pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose and mouth, blocking out some of the sea air. The woman walked behind him, so he couldn't see how on edge she was. The faoladh's posture was stiff as her hackles rose—mentally and physically preparing her for combat. Her job on this mission was to protect Jim and act as backup if necessary, so if he was weakened, she needed to be on her A-game if they were going to make it through a potentially dangerous encounter.
"Hello, there!" the man called out to the shadows looming on deck. The loudness of his voice made the woman flinch as she really didn't like the looks of this. Several figures just looked down at them. Their entire bodies were obscured with cloth. "I'm Sir Phantomhive with HELLSING! Is this the boat to Wulver's Stane?"
There was a titter of voices as the group turned away from the edge to speak in hushed tones. They scurried away, prompting the woman's brow to furrow and her hand to carefully grip the handle of the pistol on her belt under her cloak.
"Sir…" she whispered, waiting for orders. Her superior did not yield, however.
"Wait a minute." he answered, gesturing for her to hold back with a wave of his hand.
After a few tense moments, a figure appeared at the top of the ramp, awkwardly shuffling into view from the side. The figure paused, looking back their fellow seamen while anxiously rubbing their hands together. "Uhm… Yes!" it answered, slowly walking down the ramp to meet the foreigners still standing on the dock. "We-We're from Wulver's Stane! Hello! Uh… Yeah…"
As the figure drew closer, he came more and more into view, anxiously looking around as they continued their descent. They wore a large coat over a wide frame with a hood pulled down low. A scarf covered their mouth and their hands were concealed by a pair of wool mittens. Finally, after one more cautious step, they arrived at the bottom, looking past the two agents at dry land.
"Um… Are you alone?" they asked.
"Yeah." Jim replied, much to the shock of his associate.
"Sir! You can't just say stuff like that!" the woman hissed through her teeth.
"I don't think it's a trap." the blonde replied, stepping closer to the stranger and prompting Kayleigh to follow close behind. "Fix your posture. You look threatening."
"That's not something I can really help!" Kayleigh huffed, but as the two of them stopped in front of the stranger, she noticed how short he was. More importantly, she noticed how he was shaking.
Gently, Jim spoke with a smile, shoving his own apprehension about the situation to the side. "You're not human, are you?"
"Uhm! We-well… Uh…" Clamping his hands together, the man in the hood looked back up the ramp at his crew. "Yo-you are HELLSING agents, right?"
"Yep." Reaching into his coat pocket, the baronet pulled out his ID and held it up for the man to view. "I'm the head of the Supernatural Affairs Department, Sir Jim Phantomhive. And my associate here is Kayleigh. She's acting as backup on this mission in case anything happens, so forgive her hostile posture. It's kind of her job to be suspicious. We're actually not human, either, so you don't need to be so nervous."
"I-I'm sorry, I've never actually set foot on any of the other islands before…"
"Would you feel more comfortable talking up on deck?" Jim suggested, placing his ID back into his pocket while gesturing toward the ramp with his chin.
"Of-of course…" Stiffly, the man began the slow ascent back up the ramp, this time with two new passengers in tow. Kayleigh wasn't sure if the fact that he was so stiff and nervous made her feel better or worse. It could either mean they were actually nervous, or that he was bad at bluffing and this was a trap.
Once they arrived on deck, she was fully anticipating a fight, but what she found instead was a group of equally nervous people all staying as far away from the agents as possible. Some of them even hid slightly behind a stray barrel, here and there, but none of them sprung out to attack them. All had their faces, hands, and bodies equally covered, but with more awkward shapes to their faces and torsos; and none of them showed their backs. What really struck the woman, however, was just how much taller than everyone she was. Faoladh were indeed on the taller side, looking like particularly tall humans—the women in particular. She knew that she was taller than Jim, but she towered over the man who led them there and he was about the same size as everyone else there, she reckoned.
"You're wulver, right?" Jim observed, making the woman do a double take. "You don't have to hide yourselves. I see supernaturals who don't pass for human all the time. You can't surprise me."
Members of the other party looked to one another before one by one, they lowered their tails, smoothing out the lumps in the backs of their coats. Raising her eyebrows, Kayleigh was surprised that they had them. Lycanthropes did not, including faoladh. Seeing tails on a wolf-person was entirely new for both agents. Some removed their scarves, revealing their snouts, but most kept them on.
"I'm not…" spoke the man who led them there. "Well, I am, and I'm not… I'm half…" Slowly, he reached up and grasped his scarf. "Can I?"
"Go ahead. I don't mind." casually answered the menace. His nonchalance only seemed to embolden the other man as he pulled his scarf away from his face and lowered his hood.
The man had the face of a seal! He had a smooth head with gray fur and dark black eyes. The only thing odd about him were the tiny, pointed ears on the sides of his head. "Thank you…" he said. "That, uh… Was real uncomfortable against my whiskers…"
"Ah, half-selkie, huh?"
"Yeah… I can't change my shape, though, so I needed to hide. Sorry…"
"No, no! It's alright! I imagine it's scary for you lot to come out here where there's humans! I'm glad you did, though!" the blonde smiled, holding out a hand to shake. "Gotta name?"
"Oh! It's Ettrick, sir!" the seal-man answered, gently taking Jim's hand, only to be startled as the menace gripped it earnestly and gave it a firm shake.
"Well, Ettrick, are you the captain of this vessel?"
"No, sir… That would be Harris. He's behind the wheel."
"Well, why don't we meet him and get this ship moving? I don't really do well with the sea breeze, so I'd like to get there as soon as we can."
"Of course, sir! Right this way!" Ettrick replied, gesturing for the pair to follow him. As the two stepped inside, the baronet turned to his associate as he reached the doorway.
"You can transform, too, if you want." he offered.
"Ah, maybe later… I'm not dressed for it. These clothes don't stretch." Kayleigh replied. Old, worn, vinyl tiles clung to their feet as they walked further inside. Patches were missing in some areas, complimenting the flimsy wood paneling that lined the walls.
"Oh, right. Well, don't feel like you ought to, if you don't want to. You just can."
"I'll keep it in mind."
As they kept going, her nose scrunched as the pair picked up the scent of tobacco smoke. After ascending some steps, they reached the bridge, where an a few undisguised wulver were hanging out with one very prominently looking through the glass out on deck.
"Captain," Ettrick called out, prompting the wulver to turn to face the newcomers. The others around him sat up a bit straighter as the demon arrived. "Sir Phantomhive and his bodyguard are here."
The wulver looked the pair up and down with a pair of tired eyes. He was about the same height as Jim, with brown fur. He was a bit grey around the muzzle, but what stood out to the agents was that his fur was two-toned: darker on top and lighter from his chin, his cheeks, and all the way down his neck. Lycanthropes only tended to be one colour: the same as on their heads. Harris stood there, bundled up in a blue-grey cardigan, smoking an old pipe. Taking it from between his teeth, he held it in his hand before cautiously extending the other to shake.
"Nice to meet you," he offered, "I'm Harris. I'm the captain of this rig."
"Sir Phantomhive." the baronet replied, accepting his hand. His palm was like a paw-pad, but rough as he worked with his hands. The menace didn't mind, though, and shook his hand just as enthusiastically as he shook Ettrick's, catching the captain somewhat off guard. "Call me 'Jim.' With me is Kayleigh. She's supposed to be an extra set of hands if I run into any trouble."
"Nice to meet you," the woman replied, shaking the Captain's hand as well.
"You're a tall one, aren't you?" Harris questioned, raising an eyebrow as he looked up at the woman.
"I'm a faoladh." she blushed. This was going to be a reoccurring thing, wasn't it? "We're taller than most people."
"And you're Irish!" he smiled. "Good to have you aboard! Ettrick, take care of their bags, will you? Everyone, get ready to sail!"
The order sent feet scrambling as people rushed to their positions. Normally, an instruction like that wasn't worth such a dramatic response, but all of them were eager to get out of there and get back home before they were spotted.
"Sorry for making you come all the way out here just to pick us up." Jim apologised. "Normally, HELLSING would provide us transport, but they kind of dropped the ball on us this time."
"Think nothing of it. If anything, it's us who need to apologise to you." the captain replied, turning to his own station and fiddling with some settings while occasionally turning back over his shoulder at the pair. "We brought you all the way out here, but things've gotten pretty bad, lately. I just hope you aren't getting too far in over your head."
In response, the blonde laughed in a light, arrogant titter, causing Harris to arch an eyebrow at him. It wasn't on purpose and it wasn't meant to be mean-he just genuinely found the idea amusing. "Try me. I don't scare easily."
"Captain, we're ready to sail." one of the crewmen interrupted, taking Harris' attention away from the menace for just a moment.
"Get us out of here." he replied, ignoring the baronet's challenge for just a moment.
The boat began to move, making Jim shut his eyes and wince as a wave of sickness washed over him. His stomach flipped and his body tensed, immediately undercutting what he had just said. Harris noticed as well because the moment they were out of port and the captain finally had the chance to turn to face him again, he cracked a small smile that the blonde couldn't see.
"You don't scare but you do get sea sick, huh?" he chuckled.
"You could say that…" Jim pressed his handkerchief against his mouth again. He didn't want to delve into it, as it had only been a few minutes since meeting the other man for the first time. It didn't seem right to dump his trauma on him first thing—nor was it really even his business in the first place.
"Is there something we should be worried about on the island?" Kayleigh questioned for him, but Harris didn't answer right away.
"Boss, you should tell them…" one of the other wulver whispered, prompting the captain to sigh.
"We used to rely on the selkies a lot." Harris replied. "We can't pass as human, so they'd go to other islands and bring back resources. In exchange, we'd give them some of the goods we'd make. Food from our farms, wool from our sheep, fabric from our looms—that sort of thing. Now they won't help us one bit. They're even scaring off all of the fish so we can't catch any, these days. Things are getting kind of bad, resource-wise, so the old folks were hoping you could go have a talk with them."
"Oh, that makes sense." Jim nodded, trying to power through his wooziness. He paused as nodding his head made him feel dizzy. "They have bargaining chips, so they're going to use them to get their way. Fair enough."
"Are you going to do something about it?"
"Of course. I'm going to have a talk with them to see if we can reach an agreement. HELLSING has bargaining chips, too, as do you, if they rely that much on the textiles you make. I assume they do, as I hear they live really close to the water—not great for farming or raising livestock."
"Sounds reasonable, but I'm not sure if reason is gonna reach them."
"Are they stubborn?"
"Their leader is. Lockie is his name. He's a massive brute, that one. He took over a few years ago after his father died in a fishing accident. His old man was a good bloke, but Lockie? Reason doesn't reach him."
"Some say he's half giant." Ettrick chimed in, returning to the bridge. "Wouldn't surprise anyone, given how big he is. He's even taller than you!" he said while pointing at Kayleigh.
"Tall and built like a brick house…" Harris huffed. "Well, either way, I wish you luck, Jim. You'll be staying in my wife's grandmothers' old house, so just give us a shout if you need anything, as long as it's not looking for trouble."
"Hmm…" hummed the menace. Folding his arms, he leaned back in his seat. Whether his eyes were shut and his brows were furrowed with thought or nausea, it was hard to tell, but he had a few ideas.
First thing was first, however: Getting to the island. The blonde's posture gradually slouched and then sank throughout the course of the journey. He sat folded over with his head between his knees while hugging his own thighs. Kayleigh practically had to drag him off the boat, helping him walk with his arm awkwardly around her shoulder. It was quite difficult, given that he was shorter than her, but she managed to crouch down enough to get him onto dry land. It was amazing how instantaneously relief washed over his face despite still feeling awful. The rag over his nose helped.
It was pitch black out, save for a light post near the dock and the lights of the few silhouettes that were waiting there. Senga anxiously tapped her foot as the boat slowly came to a stop and people began to disembark. It was only familiar faces at first. Folks from the village walked past, nodding their heads and saying "goodnight" before heading to their own homes. Then, she saw her husband, clumsily pushing the cart with Jim's bags on it, making his way down the ramp. The foreigners soon followed.
They were not what she was expecting. Senga's stomach actually dropped when she saw Jim staggering out of the ship with Kayleigh helping him along. He wore a suit, yes, but the sweater he wore with it seemed "unprofessional." She supposed she was glad that he wasn't entirely stiff, but she had doubts about his competence from the moment she spotted him.
"Lockie's going to eat him alive." she thought to herself, but she hadn't a moment to hesitate.
She approached her husband, pecking his cheek. Eager for news, she started with a simple: "Well?" It was hardly a question, but Harris understood it.
"Right…" the man mumbled as if he suddenly remembered his manners. Turning to the menace, he started with introductions. "Sir Phantomhive, Kayleigh, this is my wife, Senga. She'll take you to where you'll be staying in a bit. Senga, this is the fella from HELLSING, Sir Jim Phantomhive. The tall lass with him is his bodyguard, Kayleigh."
"Good evening." Kayleigh politely nodded. She noticed the other woman perk up at the sound of her accent.
"Good evening, Ma'am." Jim greeted as well, trying to hoist himself to his feet. "I apologise for my appearance. I should be better once I'm away from the shore. Feel free to call me 'Jim.'"
"Ah, well, 'Jim,' Kayleigh…" Senga began, nodding toward both of them. "Welcome to Wulvers Stane. I bet you're tired from your trip…"
"You could say that…" Jim attempted to laugh, but immediately shut his eyes again and winced. "Could we, uh, take this away from the water?"
"Of course! Um… Right this way?"
If the agent was this bad just being near the water, then he was going to have one hell of a time dealing with Lockie, Senga thought. She dutifully led them to where they were staying, however, down the winding, twisting dirt road with nothing but their lanterns to light their way. Jim was the only one who was able to see any of the scenery, although he could not voice it. Instead, Senga lead them all back through sheer memory. It was the same road as it was in daylight, after all—just hidden and aggressive as cold winds lashed at their cheeks. The small talk died, leaving on the sound of the crunching beneath their feet.
A small, but warm glow could be seen in the distance as they got further along. In time, they would reveal themselves to be fireplaces, although the smell of smoke gave them away first from a great ways off. Small, stone houses came into view and then went away after a while. The smell of smoke cleared Alois' lungs, allowing him to perk up slightly—just in time for him to turn his head as they passed and see curtains shut. Eyes peeked out at them through the gaps in the fabric. More of the welcoming committee, the baronet assumed.
Just in time for the blonde to start finding his feet, he and Kayleigh were brought to a modestly-sized stone cottage that looked even older than the rest. It was covered in moss and firelight flickered through dusty windows, but the pair did not complain. It was a place with a roof that did not rock back and forth, so that was more than enough for the two of them in the moment.
"This used to be my mother's place." Senga stated, fishing a set of keys out of her pocket. She fiddled with them for a moment before coaxing the lock open with a satisfying sound. "It's not much, but I tried to get it livable. I hope it'll suit you alright while you're here."
Stepping inside, there was no denying the musty smell of old house that hadn't been lived in for a while. No amount of dusting or tidying up would get rid of that right away, but the place was almost spotless, all the same. Everything was nicely arranged, folded, and conveniently placed so that the visitors could find them. The cabinets had a basic set of dishes and pots and pans in them, there were blankets and sheets on the bed, and the fire was already lit. "Getting it livable" was an understatement. The place was downright cozy.
"This is perfect!" stated the menace, setting down his bags on the floor with a creak. With as bright of a smile as he could muster in the moment, he placed his hands on his hips and let his eyes wander around the room. "It's very nice! I'm going to sleep just fine, here!"
"You say that now, but it's really not as fancy as your place back home, I bet. You need to draw water from the pump out front and heat it up if you want a bath. The loo is out back and I'll be by with meals and to help with laundry."
"Sounds excellent!" cheerfully answered the blonde, visibly taking the woman aback somewhat. He went from being sick as a dog, to seeming almost unreasonably optimistic about his lodgings—although maybe it was tiredness from the trip talking, she supposed.
Needless to say, he was a peculiar sort if she ever saw one. He came there in his fancy coat and polished shoes—somehow not getting a speck of dirt on them despite the long walk—from what she assumed was some cushy office job somewhere in London. She wasn't really sure where it was or what it was like as she had only been off the island once, but she hadn't heard good things about it. Then there was his face, of course. She wasn't really sure what she was expecting, but he was funny looking, to say the least. He looked like a malnourished, albino, selkie with his flat face and hairless appearance, only he didn't seem like a particularly impressive one. That might be because she saw him stumble off the boat with his slightly less weird-looking associate.
She watched as the pair interacted. Her eyes didn't leave them as she slowly inched toward the door. It was then that she witnessed the man pick up his unreasonable amount of bags and start carrying them through the house. He picked them up like it was nothing and thinking back, he must have walked the entire way with them, too. The other woman, however, seemed nonplussed.
"You can have the bigger room, Kayleigh." he stated after peeking his head into each one.
"Are you sure? You're in charge, so I couldn't possibly…" began the faoladh, only to trail off as he haphazardly threw two of his bags into the room, keeping the smallest slung over his shoulder. Peeking into the room, herself, she shook her head. "Sir, that's tiny!"
It wasn't impressive in the slightest. There was only room for a bed, a dresser, and a bedside table. All were tightly packed into the small, cramped, space with there being only about three feet between the bed and the door. Jim, however, was undeterred and simply set his remaining bag down on the bed before picking the others up and setting them back down beside it.
"You shouldn't ever say that to a man." Jim replied with a chuckle, taking delight in how his associate very prominently rolled her eyes at him. "But no, I insist. We're going to be here for a while and so you're probably going to have to transform at some point during that time, right? It'll be hard for you to walk around without bumping into things if you're in here. The bigger room is just more practical."
"Oh, alright? If you're sure?" She didn't seem certain, but she also couldn't argue. Senga took the lull in the conversation to make her excuses.
"I'll be by later with some dinner." Senga called out, prompting the two strangers to turn their attention back toward her.
"Thank you." Kayleigh smiled a rather small smile while the baronet grinned.
"Sounds good! Thank you, Senga! We can talk about tomorrow's plans, then." the man suggested. "I'm not exactly sure where I need to be for these meetings…"
"I'm not entirely sure of that, but I'll talk to my husband about it." The wulver couldn't help but wonder if the man arrived with a plan at all. Despite her impression of him, she really did hope that Lockie didn't mess him up. Not only would it throw the entire island into jeopardy, but it just seemed cruel. She couldn't help but feel a profound sense of anxiety bubbling up in her stomach as the thought that this man was responsible for the fate of her home. With that, she latched the door behind her, leaving the two foreign supernaturals alone. A heavy sigh escaped her and her shoulders slouched as she dragged her feet on home.
The guests, however, persevered in putting their things away. Kayleigh neatly packed her clothes and other belongings away in their proper spot, folding them nicely before stowing them away. Her cloak was hung on the hook on the back of the door to her room and everything was immaculate enough to pass any and all inspections if they came her way.
Jim, on the other hand, folded only what was visible from the outside. Shirts, trousers, and jumpers all got folded-just like he did when he was in bootcamp as a boy. Underwear, socks, and undershirts, however, got crammed into one of the drawers in the dresser without a single care as to what state they wound up in. It didn't look nice, they had a hard time fitting, and whether or not they wound up wrinkled was between them and God, but he got done unpacking faster. Instead, he focused on placing things to where he could find them easily, especially on top of the dresser. His hairbrush, comb, toiletries, and deodorant were all placed "just so," while the bottle of cologne Ciel gave him earned a place of prominence in the very center of his display.
It didn't look right, however, because Ciel's belongings weren't there, too. The surface looked sparse without Ciel's box of earrings there and was missing his brush with little strands of blueish-black hair stuck between its bristles. The drawer with his watches wasn't there, nor were his eyepatches. While Jim was still very much in good spirits, it sank in a bit that he was on his own, here. While he did want to lie down and rest, sleeping without Ciel next to him would be difficult. He would have to hug a pillow if he wanted to even attempt it and it simply wasn't the same. Then again, the baronet did have that bottle sitting right in front of him, so perhaps he could dress it up a bit? The thought made him kick himself somewhat. "Really? You haven't even been here more than a few hours." he scolded himself.
Still, he couldn't help himself and was more than a bit curious about it. On the one hand, just a small sniff to see what it smelled at couldn't really hurt, but on the other, he felt like it would be kind of sad if he couldn't go a single day without being that clingy. That thought, however, was one that made him freeze on the spot.
He forgot to call Ciel.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he made sure he had reception. By some miracle, he did and he sat down on the edge of the bed before dialing. He may be trying to put on a brave face during their separation, but he knew Ciel was doing more so. He also knew that Ciel was probably not doing very well at putting it out of his mind—especially when anticipating a call from the menace. Alois prepared himself to wait patiently for his spouse to pick up, only to be taken aback a bit when he answered on the first ring.
"Hello, Jimmy?" It wasn't Ciel's usual greeting. Normally, he was in the habit of a terse "Phantomhive," even when picking up for family. Yes, "family." The thought warmed the blonde's heart, but it still didn't stop him from snickering as his immediate reaction to the bluenette's tone of voice.
"Hello~ dearest husband of mine~!" Jim practically sang. His smile shaped every word he spoke. "I'm calling to inform you that I am safely in Scotland—more specifically, Wulver Stane island. I'm at the house I'm staying at and am all unpacked and everything. It's a cute little place. No running water, though, but I can manage."
"Well, that's good. I'm glad to hear it." the relief in Ciel's voice was apparent. "How was the trip?"
"Honestly? Horrible." the blonde replied, leaning back so that he fell onto the mattress. He hadn't expected to become so relaxed right away, but he immediately deflated now that his spine was in alignment. "Oof… I was sick for every boat ride. Even standing next to the ocean was awful. I probably looked like a right wanker, standing there with my handkerchief up against my nose. I tried to explain that it wasn't out of disgust, but I'm not sure if they believed me. Nice people, though. The wulver seem friendly."
"Oh, that could pose a problem… You'll need to speak to the selkie, won't you? Aren't they by the ocean?"
"Sadly, yes. I haven't quite figured out a plan for that just yet, though…"
"I don't know what to do about the sound, but spraying some of that cologne I gave you might help with the smell?"
Blinking, Jim paused for just a moment before scrunching his face. Taking in a deep breath of somewhat musty air, he let out a dreadfully long groan, rolling over onto his side in the process. The sound did not inspire confidence in the man on the other end of the line.
"What? What happened?" Ciel questioned. Lightly, Jim shook his head as though his beau could see it.
"I'm an idiot…" the menace replied flatly. "That was such an obvious solution and I didn't even think of it… I spent that whole trip sick, Ciel… That whole trip…"
"Can't change the past, I'm afraid. Just do it next time."
"Is that part of why you gave it to me?" inquired the blonde, rolling his eyes at himself when he heard the answer.
"Partially." Of course it was. Ciel was smart like that and knew about Jim's aversion to the sea. He knew the smell of salt water psychosomatically affected him, so of course, he thought of a solution. "Though it was mostly because I thought you might want it if you missed me…"
"I'm trying to stay strong and not use it the first night, but I admit, it's a challenge. I'd like to lie down and rest my eyes, but I'm missing my favourite teddy bear, so it may be a challenge…"
"I, personally, am not looking forward to it, either." sighed the Watchdog. "But, on the other hand, I may have a very productive month. If I stay up, that'll just be more time to work on projects and get a headstart on Christmas."
Of course he would. That was what Ciel always did when Jim was gone. When Jim was captured out at sea, Ciel worked tirelessly to find him. According to Sebastian, he worked day and night to both keep the company afloat and to locate Jim's location, forgoing sleep and making a right mess of himself. That, of course, wasn't necessary this time around. Jim was safe and sound, so the Earl had no such distraction to keep him busy. That, of course, did not negate the fact that Jim was going to tease him anyway.
Rolling onto his back again, the menace put a hand behind his head and crossed one knee over the other, kicking off his shoe partway and idly kicking it back and forth on his toes. "Hm~?" he hummed a long, drawn out hum. "Is that so? So sorry to hold you back, then. Shall I leave you to it?"
"No! Not at all!" The urgency in the Watchdog's voice was shattered the moment the menace busted out laughing at him. He tried to tone it down into a light snicker as he heard the pronounced huff on the other end of the line as the Earl realised what was going on. "You know perfectly well that's not true. I just need something to do since I don't have you around to entertain..."
"Oh really? I was thinking the same thing! I know you get bored when I'm not around to keep you busy. I was honestly worried about how you'd cope…"
"I'm sure I'll come up with something to do. I've passed time for the past hundred years or so without you, so I'll simply have to dust off a few old methods."
"Murder?"
"No, not this time."
"Pity."
"I'm going to meet with Henrietta and Renee the day after tomorrow, so I suppose it's a start."
"That's the spirit! Seek the entertainment of a few ladies while your husband is out!"
"That is absolutely not what I meant!" The instantaneous ruffled feathers made the blonde cackle but his spouse was far from amused. "That isn't funny even as a joke, Jimmy! I would never, ever, do anything of the sort!"
"Oh, Ciel, my darling… You're so cute! I'll have to call you regularly to get my fix of adorableness."
"You were going to do that anyway…"
"Oh, absolutely. But really, I know you wouldn't do anything like that. You love me far too much for that. Besides, I have eyes on the inside who will report any and all strange movements of yours, so I'm not worried."
"Is that supposed to be a warning?"
"No, not at all! It's a threat."
"Dutifully noted. It is well within your rights to do so."
It was nice to hear one another's voice, knowing that they wouldn't wake up to each other in the morning. They spoke until Senga returned with the evening meal, at which Jim was forced to say his farewells and hang up until the next day. He didn't really want to eat anything. Being a demon, he didn't get hungry and he also just wished to head to bed as soon as possible. So when Senga left, he nudged his plate in Kayleigh's direction, swiping a few morsels for himself but insisting she have the rest. Lycanthropes have a fast metabolism, after all. At least that was the justification he gave her.
Laying down to rest his eyes, he settled in to the clean blankets and sheets he was provided with and got comfortable, only to find his mind racing with the little things he needed to keep up with for the next day. Examine existing infrastructure, observe social and political systems at play, learn local customs, traditions, and norms, as well as endearing himself to the locals were but a few things on his checklist. All had their own intricate pieces at play. Keeping his eyes closed, the menace uttered a long, tired sigh. Really, it was going to be a long night without the Watchdog watching over him.
A/N: Tbh this is less than an ideal chapter length, but I ought to give you SOMETHING for waiting so long! I'm very sorry for my absence. I was both working on this and drawing comics...
I've been wanting Jim to have a solo trip of his own for some time, though! He always has wanted to travel, hasn't he? Ever since episode 1! Unfortunately, he won't be able to go with Ciel, but he's strong! He's smart! He can handle it! Besides, I have stuff planned for Ciel to deal with at home, just you wait!
And I've finally got to use wulver! I've been wanting to incorporate them as supernaturals in this series for a really, really, REALLY long time! Selkie, too! Needless to say, I'm very excited about the prospect...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!