Disclaimer: I do not own Sebastian, Ciel, Grell and/or any other characters of the series. I hold no rights whatsoever to Kuroshitsuji/"Black Butler", and I do not make money from this.

+++ Chapter 6: The True Shape of Things (or: "That crow keeps dropping cherries on my head.")

'Home. At last.' Ciel quickened his steps and halted in front of his mansion's door. Since he could not be expected to do his own knocking, he ordered, 'Finny. May-Rin. Announce - '

Sebastian opened the door, before Ciel had finished his sentence.

Finny jumped. May-Rin made a small, squeaking sound. Ciel smiled a sardonic smile. He had never really believed that Sebastian would not be there, had he?

Sebastian bowed. 'Welcome home, young master.'

'It's good to see you back on duty.' Briskly, Ciel walked past his butler. 'I am hungry. You can serve breakfast in the dining room.'

Sebastian bowed again. His smile was sickly sweet, even for his standards.

But it took him almost fifteen minutes to prepare Ciel's tea and scones. And he had not even ironed the newspaper. Or rather, he'd tried to and given up, having singed part of the classified section.

Ciel watched his butler fumble with the china. He watched him drop a scone and go down on his haunches to pick it up and put it back on the plate. Ciel broke off a morsel and ate it, watching his butler bite his own tongue, as he focussed on pouring the tea.

The tea was okay.

Not excellent, but okay.

His butler, however, was far from his usual form. At least, he was not tripping over his own feet anymore.

'Sebastian?' said Ciel, between sips. 'Do a hand-stand.'

'Y- young master?' The demon almost dropped the tea pot.

'That was an order.'

His butler stared at him, saucer-eyed.

Ciel waved his hand impatiently. 'Two words, Sebastian. I will hear nothing else.'

'Er...no problem?' Finally, Sebastian did as he was told. His hand-stand was perfect - but only for about two seconds. Then he seemed to encounter problems determining his center of gravity and, shrieking, crashed into the chinaware. He crawled on the floor, collecting the shards, wailing softly.

At this point, Ciel could have told Grell Sutcliffe that it was okay. He was no butler, and he'd never be.

Instead, he quickly said, 'Don't cut your wrists open just now. You can mend the porcellain later.'

'Mend it? But how could I possibly mend, er, I mean - yes. Sure.'

'Later,' Ciel repeated. 'Now, leave me alone. I have work to do.'

'Leave you. Yes. I'll leave you. Alone.' The Sebastian nodded eagerly and left, leaving the shards and the trolley. When he turned his back on Ciel, the earl lifted his eyepatch. It was only an intuition, inspired by Lidia's parting words that Ciel should choose for himself, which eye to use in order to spot her. In this case, he continued to see the familiar outline of his tail-suited butler. But shimmering beneath the dark shape, there was a bright image of crimson: the shinigami's red hair and red coat.

Ciel's marked eye, the one that had been touched by the demon, would not be fooled.

Nor would Ciel himself, who had not failed to see the evidence. He put his scone down on the plate, mumbling, 'Scones molded in the shape of skulls. How capricious.' He shook his head. Then he got up and entered the corridor. Grell didn't notice he was being followed. He was too busy, marvelling at his hands and touching his hair and his body. Ciel saw the shinigami shiver with pleasure. Obviously, Grell was envisioning a rather private meeting with the demon, whose shape he had assumed.

Why would Sebastian do that? Ciel wondered. Even if it is not really him – the mere thought of Grell having his way with one's reflection is revolting.

Well, he would find out.

Grell took his time, but he eventually entered the western annex. Rooms in this part of the building had been designed and furnished to house the Phantomhive guests. They had been in frequent use while Ciel's parents had been alive. Now, the earl hardly ever walked in these corridors.

Grell Sutcliffe stopped in front of a certain door. He drew a deep, sighed and squared his shoulders as if to muster his courage, before making an unpleasant confession. Then he entered, closing the door silently behind him.

Sebatian had asked Ciel to avoid looking at him. He had said nothing about eavesdropping. Ciel put his ear to the keyhole.

'What took you so long?' That was Sebastian's voice, a little raspy maybe, but otherwise clearly recognisable. 'What's that stain?'

'I, er, spilled the tea.' That, too, was Sebastian speaking. Or rather, Grell Sutcliffe speaking with Sebastian's voice.

The real Sebastian seemed outraged. 'You were supposed to inform Tanaka! I didn't ask you to try and serve the young master's breakfast yourself! Just – tell – Tanaka!'

'So what? I'm a butler, too! Our young master didn't notice any difference.'

'Are you certain? My young master isn't stupid!'

'No. He's not,' said Ciel, deciding to get involved. 'And he's coming in. You hear me? I'm opening the door now.'

He saw an empty sofa and Grell standing in front of it, looking baffled. The cushions rustled softly. Something – a body - had crumpled them, but the weight had recently been removed.

'Young master,' said Sebastian's voice from behind the backrest. 'I apologize - '

Ciel cut in, 'Just tell me: Why?' He took another step into the room. He was relieved to find that Sebastian could talk and scramble over backrests. But the relief was overshadowed by righteous indignation. 'Why the masquerade? Why play hide-and-seek?'

'Right now, my appearance is not suitable for the young master's eyes,' said the bodiless voice.

'That is mine to decide,' said Ciel, surly.

'Unworthy of your attention, then.'

'His looks have seen better days, it's true,' Grell said, trying to be helpful. 'Okay, so he no longer looks like he's going to crumble to dust, if you stare at him too hard, but - '

'Where's the problem, Sebastian?' asked Ciel. 'This is not our first ‚First of May'. Yet, I never knew about your nightly activities. Just like any morning, you would come to my door, announce yourself and serve breakfast. You never delegated your duty to Tanaka before.'

'You never spent the night awake,' came the prompt answer. 'You never wanted your breakfast served at six-thirty.'

'Are you saying that half an hour makes all the difference?'

'That is what I am saying, young master. It's all about staying on schedule, and at my rate of regeneration, thirty minutes are plenty of time.'

Now, that even made sense.

'I see,' said Ciel. What point was there in fighting with a backrest, anyway? 'Well, I won't mess with your schedule any longer. I'm tired. I'm turning in.'

'Young master - ' His butler sounded genuinely distressed.

'Wake me for lunch. Oh, and I want mousse au chocolat for dessert.'

Sebastian took a deep breath, courtesy of one self-sacrificing shinigami, 'Yes, mylord.'

Ciel left. But he did not close the door immediately. He listened. There were two voices of Sebastian, and they quarrelled.

'Wait! Where do you think you're going?'

'Why, preparing moose on shockcola, of course.'

'No, you don't! I will - '

'You? You almost broke your neck going over that backrest. Fffloor. Fffeeet. Get my driffft?'

'Abandon my shape.'

'No. That wasn't the deal. You said that - '

'Our deal was that you could walk around in my shape for one hour after informing Tanaka and asking him to serve the young master's breakfast!'

'I haven't informed Tanaka of anything yet. Which means that, according to our deal, the additional hour hasn't even started.'

'Are you trying to get shrewd on me? On me?' There was a short pause, then, 'Let go of my spell!'

And the protest, 'NO!'

'Mister Grell! I'm not going to repeat myself - '

'LalalaLALA, I'm not listening – '

Shaking his head, Ciel closed the door.

Leaving Sebastian in Grell's custody, Ciel retired to his bedroom.

It was strange, closing the curtains in broad daylight. But it was even more strange to do it himself. The window was open. Ciel closed it, noticing claw marks on the sill.

He got out of his clothes, remembering how he had tried to undress May-Rin without getting her naked. Looking at it from retrospective, it was almost funny.

Dreams came as soon as his head touched the pillow. Colourful, bizarre images flooded his mind and swept him away. Ciel surfed on the tide of his subconscious, re-living part of the previous night, but also making up new scenes, new creatures and new challenges. Hovering on the verge of consciousness, he enjoyed the wild machinations of an imagination, he had almost forgotten he possessed.

Then he realized that Sebastian wasn't in it, and he felt ill at ease. The feeling intensified. It became the sense of a presence. Someone or something was with him in his bedroom, watching.

The perception became more and more oppressive, as the intruder realized that the human was utterly alone. Unprotected. Defenseless – are you scared, boy?

Ciel woke with a start. He listened to his heart pounding, he felt his neck tingle. He moved over to the side of the bed, grabbed the edge of the mattress and leaned way over.

The shadows under the bed were impenetrable. Yet, they seemed to be driven by a conscious intent to stalk and haunt and induce fear in the occupant of the upper level.

'Hi, bogeyman,' Ciel said.

Standing in front of his master's door, Sebastian took one moment to straigthen his cuffs and pull tight his gloves. Then he knocked - 'Excuse me, young master!' - and entered.

And stopped in his tracks.

His master was hanging upside down over the far end of the mattress. His thin, naked legs stuck up in the air, counterbalancing the weight of his suspended body. His hands clutched at the bedsheets which were already beginning to slip.

Sebastian stared, wide-eyed.

It's alright. Human male children will do things like that, he reminded himself, and then, feeling a rare touch of panic at the sight of the impossible equilibrium, How do they survive?

'Young master!'

'Ah, Sebastian.' Ciel's legs waggled alarmingly, then he sat up. 'Guess, who's under the bed?'

Sebastian was in the middle of breathing a sigh of relief and not in the mood for games. His gleaming red eyes penetrated the shadows under the bed like laser beams slicing through fog.

'Well, hel-lo,' he said, amiably. The bogeyman whimpered.

Ciel's naked feet touched the ground on the other side of the bed. He padded over to a cupboard. A drawer creaked.

'Young master? What are your commands?'

'Sit tight. Both of you.' There was a rustle and a metallic click and the sound of a box being opened. Smell of burning wicker and a sizzling sound. Ciel's face appeared on the other side of the bed.

'Hey, bogey!'

A blinding, blue-white flash went off. Sebastian pulled back, hissing softly and squeezing his eyes shut. The bogeyman dissolved.

'What's brighter than bright?' Ciel grinned. 'The magnesium flash of modern photographic equipment. Good riddance, bogey.'

'Under your bed! You could've set fire to everything,' scolded Sebastian, blinking fiercely.

'Now now. Who of us could be heard, flaunting his penchant for pyrotechnics?' Ciel sat down on the edge of his bed. 'As soon as you've stopped seeing funny dots, help me with these buttons,' he simply said.

After the traumatic events of the early morning, Ciel had felt that he never wanted to sit in the sun ever again. But the afternoon air was pleasantly warm and smelled of spring, and the earl decided to take his tea outside. The problem was that, like so often, he made that decision without communicating it to his servants. He simply proceeded to sit on the back porch, reading and waiting for his needs to be attended.

May-Rin was the first to find him and set the ball rolling. By the time Sebastian had successfully tracked down his young master, the maid had already set the table.

She had not broken one single piece of china in the process. Ciel couldn't help but commend her.

'I would've served the biscuits as well,' she said, indignant. 'But that crow keeps dropping unripe cherries on my head. It's distracting.'

'A crow?' Ciel looked up, searching the roof. 'All I see is a gargoyle. Goolie? Is that you?'

A silly question, he told himself. After all, there were not too many gargoyles alive and bent on attaching themselves to his roof. There were even less gargoyles carrying a bundle on a walking stick. Goolie had used a yellow handkerchief with black dots and knotted the four corners around a treebranch.

'Master,' chirrupped the gargoyle, 'I came to say good-bye.'

'Will you come down here first?'

'Yes, but...' Goolie looked in the direction of Ciel's butler, who was occupied with the equipment on his trolley.

'Sebastian?' said Ciel, helpful. 'I think she's talking to you.'

Sebastian sighed and put down the tea pot. Then he took a step forward and opened his arms. 'Alright. Go.'

Goolie jumped without hesitation.

Sebastian caught her in his arms. Goolie's bundle swept Ciel's tea cup off the table. Using the claws at the end of her wing, she caught it safely by the handle. Sebastian raised his left foot and caught the saucer.

'Have you two been practising?' asked Ciel, as he plucked the cup off the gargoyle's claw. It would have been to much to say that not a single drop had been spilled. But there was enough tea left in the cup to marvel at the little stone creature's dexterity. 'Goolie. Don't get me wrong, but – I thought you wanted to be returned to your former state by the basilisks?'

'I wanted to ask them,' said Goolie, slipping down from Sebastian's arms. 'But then we started talking. About the nature of stones and the myths some of them inspired. Stonehenge. The white cliffs of Dover. I decided to go and have a look at them.' She adjusted her package on her shoulder. The cloth shifted and Ciel caught a glimpse of various brushes and a polish tin. Things, a well-groomed, travelling gargoyle would need. 'I want to go to the north and see the rocks that are said to be trolls, who were exposed to sunlight or heard the tolling of church bells on Christmas eve. And I want to go to the south and visit the fire mountains of Italy, Mount Vesuvius and Mount Etna.'

'What a minute!' Ciel shook his head. 'Isn't that concept a little foreign to your species? Travelling? Sight-seeing?'

Goolie winked her eye at him. 'Can't spend my whole life sitting on a roof, waiting for rain, can I? After all, a rolling stone gathers no moss.'

'The way you're talking - do you really want me to believe, you're no older than two weeks?'

'Two weeks of mobility. But three-hundred and twenty-one years of being attached to that roof. I have a lot to catch up with.'

'If, on your way to the south, you happen to pass by a small village east of the city of Munich - and the locals proudly present you a lake with three coin-shaped boulders poking out...,' said Sebastian, 'Do me a favour. Don't believe a single word of their story.'

'What's their story?' Goolie asked, curiosity peaked.

'They'll tell you that their ancestors got 'the devil' to erect a great building for them. They'll explain they had successfully made him believe it was going to be used as a house of sin, when in truth they planned on bringing in monks and founding a monastery. And they'll claim that when the devil found out, he destroyed what he had built so far and flooded the terrain and left in a fury, never to be seen in that vicinity again.'

'And?' asked Ciel.

'' 'And' what, mylord?'

'Well, you made it sound like you knew what really happened. Please, enlighten us.'

Sebastian mumbled something. Ciel signalled him to speak up. Sebastian heaved a sigh and said, 'Beautiful night, full moon high in the sky, young folk swarming the shores of the village lake - it was a stone skimming contest.'

'A stone skimming contest?'

'My cousin won,' said Sebastian. 'He almost killed the Kelpie, though. Of course, the honour of playing the lifeguard was bestowed on me. He couldn't be bothered to lose one term to his competitors.' He shook his head, grimacing, 'At that time, I didn't realize how lucky we were to get out of the water alive. Well, the Kelpie knew. She was grateful. Concussed and upset and so very, very grateful.'

'I, er, get your meaning,' said Ciel.

'Do you?' asked Sebastian, displaying an innocence that could not have been more out of place.

'Well,' said Goolie, happily, 'I'll be on the look-out for that village. Anyone you would like me to say 'hello' for you?'

'Definitely not,' Sebastian said curtly.

'Have a nice trip, Goolie,' said Ciel. 'If you get there, and they sell postcards – I'd really like to see that location.'

Sebastian knew how to make his eyes look murderous. But he was being ignored.

Ciel watched Goolie climb on the stone rail of the stairs and hop off it. Seconds later, she re-appeared, flapping her wings and gaining height. She soared over the trees which seamed the main garden path, thereby drawing Ciel's attention to May-Rin.

The maid was standing under one of the trees, wielding a broom and trying to scare away a big black bird. She hit a tree limb and flinched, as dust and pieces of bark rained down on her. The crow flapped its wings and hopped on to a higher branch.

Ciel put his hand on the cover of the book, he'd been reading. 'I've learned that Mephistopheles can assume the shape of different people and animals. He appears as a scholar and a poodle and at one point he even takes his contractee's place to talk to the student.'

'You're reading ‚Faust', young master?' It was impossible to divine Sebastian's thoughts.

'I heard you quote from the book. It's quite interesting. Some things do appear familiar,' said Ciel and continued, 'But reading about Mephisto's shape-shifting abilities, I find myself wondering: Your appearance last night – did I set eyes on your true shape, at last?'

'No, you didn't.' Sebastian smiled darkly. 'You could've derived as much from the fact that no one ran off screaming.'

'But – your eyes, and the suit?'

'Leisure wear. Superficial appearance, only.' The smile gained a vicious quality. 'My true shape goes...way deeper than meets the eye. The young master does not want to know just how deep. And what it can touch, and stir, and do when it gets there. But I've seen it happen to the young master's kind, seen it more times than I could count.' Shivering, Ciel heard the demon's voice whisper in his ear. 'That's why I would ask the young master to close his eyes, anytime...'

'Stop it!' Ciel writhed and blindly struck out at the demon.

'Young master?' Looking up, Ciel found his butler two meters away, the tea pot in his gloved hands and an astonished look on his face. One second later, the amazement gave way to a dutiful smile.

'You're not fooling me one bit!' growled Ciel.

'Nor am I trying to. I'm serving you tea. I wonder - maybe you would rather take some Earl Grey, with little milk? You appear in need of something to drive away the residues of too little sleep and elusive bad dreams.'

Ciel put a hand to his spinning head. 'Where was I?'

'Quoting from 'Faust', part one, starting line 1806, I believe. Mephisto stating that, whatever you do to change your superficial appearance, in your deepest core you'll still remain, what you are. It seems to me, he does have a point. But I believe that you would rather discuss it another time.'

Ciel gave his demon a suspicious look that was countered with stoic calm.

Then something behind his butler caught his eye. 'Sebastian?'

'Oh dear,' said Sebastian.

May-Rin was still busy with the mocking crow. But her shape had begun to change. Ciel had seen her go to all fours, where she now crouched. She was making gargling noises. The seams of her dress split, revealing reddish fur.

Sebastian moved beside his master and, watching the maid, held his arm protectively in front of Ciel. 'She must have come into contact with...something at the Court.'

May-Rin used the tree to draw herself up. She had gained more than two feet in height.

'Come to think of it,' Ciel said. 'When I was looking for a safe place for her, I took her to Pluto. The 'canine section', remember?'

Sebastian's eyes widened. 'One of the werewolves bit her?'

Over at the tree, May-Rin's mouth turned into a teeth-studded muzzle and her ears grew pointy.

'There was a puppy,' Ciel explained. 'She cuddled it. I think, it nibbled her ear.'

'Oh dear.' It wasn't a sigh. It was a statement.

Ciel stared at the transformed maid, who was trying to jump high enough to pluck the crow out of the tree. The bird screamed bloody murder. It seemed on the point of actually forming words. Not very flattering words, probably.

'Stop them, Sebastian,' Ciel said impulsively. 'Both of them.'

Sebastian smiled dangerously. Silverware blades sprang up between his knuckles like so many switchblade knives. He looked at his weapons, then put them away again. 'No, one must not use silver on a werewolf. Unless – do you want me to kill May-Rin, young master?'

'Just stop her. So we can figure out a way to reverse this unfortunate affliction. Spare the bird, too. She's experienced in animal transformations. She might have an idea what to do about this one.'

'If you can make her co-operate,' Sebastian pointed out. 'Lidia has obviously classified May-Rin as a rival to my favour. Fairies are a jealous bunch.'

'I know. I'm ready to hear your suggestions, once you've fulfilled your first task.' It was a tricky assignment, and Ciel was aware of the difficulty. The werewolf was strong and quick, and it had the residue of a human's cunning mind. Already it had started to climb the tree by wedging its paws in some crack of the tree's bark and pushing upwards with its hind legs. Steadily, slowly, purposefully.

'Young master? I shouldn't expect May-Rin to present much of a challenge. But I strongly advice that we play it as safe as possible. If she should manage to bite me - '

'I see. Leisure wear's okay, then,' said Ciel, taking an educated guess as to his butler's meaning. 'But don't stab her with those damn spike heels of yours, understood?'

'Yes, mylord.' Sebastian set off, running a few strides, then changing to a series of handsprings. He tackled May-Rin feet-first, knocking the werewolf flat on the ground. He sidestepped the beast's slashing claws and started a new attack. A cartwheel was followed by a handspring, turning smoothly into a flic-flac. The crow took off in a flurry, but Sebastian caught it out of the air. When the werewolf attacked, Sebastian was airborne again. He hit the ground at a run, escaping the beast's claws by racing backwards up the tree and somersaulting off the lowest branches. The crow screamed its protest. It sounded like a girl. May-Rin screamed. It sounded like a howl.

Ciel watched from safe distance, as Sebastian started to use the bird to pummel the maid. Feathers billowed.

Lots of feathers.

There was something lurking at the heart of every darkness, something inevitable and invariable. And there were times when it clamoured for release in order to protect the whole.

'You'll remain forever, what you are', Ciel thought. Body and blood. Life and soul. Man and beast. Yes, one has to give Mephisto his due. He does have a point.

He smiled, seeing the air filled with more dark feathers than the crow, albeit being a large bird, could possibly lose.

'I've closed my eyes,' he called. 'Go for it, Sebastian!'

Judging by the noise, his butler obeyed.

+++The End+++

A/N: So, another story is finished. My thanks to you all, especially to those of you who reviewed. Your comments have been very constructive and helpful. I had a great time writing this down. (I felt happy when I finally got Ciel to sit on top of Sebastian. His constant interaction with ever-changing partners was trying, like 'Didn't you just talk to a vampire? So, now it's a Kelpie. What's a Kelpie? Ah, forget it, you've noticed the cat on your lap...' :) )Therefore, the process was unpredictable and full of crazy, funny moments. I enjoyed myself and I am so happy you liked it, too. Thank you for reading.

(Literary quotations/references: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "Faust": Part 1, The Study)