In which Sebastian Orders Grell to Take Off His Shirt

AN: Hello, me lurvelies. How are you liking my misleadingly perverted previews?

Ciel's pen scratched across the paper. His brow furrowed in concentration. The boy finally tossed the pen down and let out a loud sigh, shaking out his cramped hand. He stared longingly at the bright sun pouring in through the window. It was such a nice day… perhaps just a small walk would not hurt anything?

The boy turned around to get out of his chair, only to come face-to-face with a grinning Undertaker.

"Wha-you-how did you get in here?"

"I walked."

Ciel blinked as he realized something. "What are you doing out of your shop in broad daylight?"

The older man's face suddenly took on a countenance of the deepest sorrow, so sorrowful that Ciel thought something horrible must have happened—did the city close down his business? Did people suddenly stop dying? "What is it?"

"Grell… she… sh-she…"

Ciel was by now extremely alarmed. "What did that idiot do?"

"She stole my favorite shirt!" The Undertaker began bawling, rocking back and forth slightly.

The boy fought to keep a straight face, doing his best to keep in both his irritation and hilarity. "Grell stole your shirt."

"Uh-huh!"

"And that's why you're crying."

"Yes!"

"Really."

"I just miss Maurice so much…"

"Who is Maurice?" Ciel asked curiously.

"Th-that's what I named him."

Ciel thought for a second, then almost facepalmed. "You named your shirt Maurice."

The Undertaker sniffled. "Y-yes…"

"Sebastian!"

The butler was at his master's side in almost an instant. "Yes, my lord?"

"Please bring Grell Sutcliff here immediately."

"Yes, my lord."

Three hours later, a very battered Grell was deposited on the desk by an unruffled Sebastian.

"Will that be all?"

Ciel tapped his fingers on the desk thoughtfully. "Hmm… please stay with us for a while. It may try to escape."

The butler bowed slightly. "Yes, my lord."

"I-is this any way to treat a lady?" Grell asked from his position on the desk.

"Shut up," Ciel barked.

"This might be my shirt… I am not sure. He has a little nametag on the inside, left of the buttons. I-it says M-Maurice…" The grey-haired man briefly broke into sobs again.

"Grell, please remove your shirt," Sebastian stated.

"Ooh, Sebas-chan-"

"Do not get the wrong idea. I merely wish to ascertain the identity of this shirt."

Grell pouted and removed his shirt and coat. The Undertaker nearly jumped for joy when he saw "Maurice" embroidered on the inside, just as he had claimed. Then he actually did jump up, showing what he had been sitting on the entire time.

"What a nice chest," Ciel observed. "Very ornate."

"It's Maurice's house!" the older man giggled.

Everyone quickly hid their faces, trying not to laugh. Except for Grell, who simply clapped and squealed, trying to see the shirt in its "house."

Ciel sighed and massaged his temples. "Sebastian, please escort the Undertaker to his shop and deposit Grell somewhere that is not here."

"Yes, my lord."

AN: And that's another chapter, all done. Next chapter, we might start having a *gasp* PLOT! Dun dun dunnn...

Next Chapter: "Now bend over." "Sebastian?" "Just do it, bocchan."