Here be Chapter Three! I'm still hoping to post a chapter a week. Reviews are appreciated! I'll take anything you have to say! Positive, negative, don't care. Thank you for those who have followed/favorited so far!
I do not own Black Butler or its characters.

The front parlor of Elizabeth's townhouse was bright and cheerful,but thankfully devoid of anything pink. The wallpaper was a lovely yellow damask and the furniture white-washed wicker with plush floral cushions. The Baby Grand piano sat in the corner, white like the rest, and Ciel was at that moment staring so intently at the finish, Sebastian was afraid he may scorch the paint with his scowl.

Paula was out to visit a friend and so, Elizabeth, being the bred hostess that she was, was bustling about in the kitchen, preparing tea. She had flatly refused Sebastian's help, happy to do this on her own. She emerged some time later with a silver tray and porcelain tea service, her face alight with all the giddiness she had been filled with as a child.

She happily poured and distributed the tea, then took a seat on a chaise lounge opposite the brooding pair and smiled at them in turn, then lifted her cup to her lips.

"Aren't you the least bit curious about the last thirty years?" Ciel broke the silence. "Lizzie, I sit before you now exactly the same as I left you all those years ago. Do not look so pleased. It..." he trailed off and shook his head. "It confuses me when you do this. It always has."

Sebastian's gaze drifted between the two of them, then stood abruptly, causing Elizabeth to jump in her seat. "Are you quite alright? Can I get you something?" she asked politely, making to stand herself.

"No, Madam. I am only going to step outside for a moment. I believe the two of you need some space to get reacquainted. I will be available if you have questions," he stated, then bowing to Lizzie, he excused himself. He would wait in the kitchen, he'd decided. Ciel's tale shouldn't take terribly long and they could be on their way.

Back in the parlor, Ciel's gaze had turned back to the white piano and Lizzie twirled her tea cup in her hands, waiting on him to break the silence again. "Elizabeth... Lizzie. The last three decades have been... well, honestly, quite dull. I left this Surface world with the memories you gave me; with the adventures that Sebastian and I had... and the next thirty years were spent with my nose in a book, drinking from empty cups and eating from empty plates."

"Where have you been all this time?" She leaned forward and sat her cup on its saucer, then folded her hands primly in her lap and waited.

"The Void. The Netherworld. Tartarus. Whatever you call it, it is a World of Nothing. It is dull and gray. And while everything I was surrounded by there were perfect copies of my world here, they lacked the color and vibrance of this Surface. I had Sebastian. That was all. Just the two of us in a mockery of my home, ensconced in plush fraudulence."

Elizabeth shook her head slightly, leaning forward on the chaise and Ciel noted that her hands were no longer folded, but gripping her knees beneath the fabric of her skirt. He knew she couldn't reply to what he'd just said, so waiting for a response was a moot point. He decided it was then or never and launched into the story he'd come here to tell.

"Do you remember when we hunted for the white stag?"

She nodded quickly but didn't say anything.

"You recall that you were told I'd lost my memories. Well, I've recovered them. This is a poor place to start. Let me start at the beginning. When Mother and Father were burned to death in the Phantomhive Manor..."

And so he told his tale, beginning with summoning a demon to exact revenge on his parents' murderer, and glancing over minor details and cases that had nothing to do with the search for Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive's killer. She was noticeably non-nonplussed at that point and it made him wonder just what she had figured out on her own. He explained the nature of Demons and Reapers; the wild moments of nemesis/partner they had shared with Grell Sutcliff. The battle with the angel-puppet of the Queen, the demon hound Pluto, the subsequent burning of the entire city was touched on with limited specifics; he was, after all, trying to make his tale as brief as possible. Eventually, he came to the Trancy fiasco, going into a little more detail here because it was imperative she understand the levity of the situation. Alois Trancy and his demon butler Claude Faustus were, after all, precisely how he found himself in his current predicament. With Sebastian unable to consume his soul, and permanently bound to him in contract, they were, for better or for worse, inseparable now. Whatever either one of them did, the other was a part of-it was lucky they had discovered a way they could feed, for in the beginning, Sebastian feared he would never taste a soul again, and Ciel, newly borne of the Netherworld, would be fodder for the stronger demons if Sebastian was starving, for though he wouldn't die-not per se-a starving demon was nothing if not the bottom of the food chain. Even a demon as powerful and ruthless as Sebastian would eventually be consumed by something even stronger and darker than himself.

Ciel broke off his story for a moment to study Elizabeth's reactions. She clutched at the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles white with the strain of it; her lower lip was drawn into her mouth and she chewed at it frantically, but she had not uttered a single word to interrupt him, save for the occasional gasp. Quite honestly, he was impressed by her captiveness because when she was a child, she simply did not possess the ability to remain silent.

"Lizzie... do you understand what I'm telling you? Do you comprehend what it's like for me to be trapped in this thirteen year old body when my mind is the same age as yours? I am a demon, my Lizzie. And, though no fault of my own, I feel responsible for your happiness-or lack thereof-over the last thirty years. Please, tell me what I can do to make up for leaving you. Tell me what I owe you for abandoning you all those years ago..." Ciel didn't think he'd ever sounded quite so desperate. But in truth, he was desperate. He had a choking need to correct this wrong he had inadvertently created.

"Oh, Ciel... My darling Ciel..." Lizzie whispered, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "You haven't committed any wrong against me!" She stood from the chaise and circumvented the table between them, kneeling at the boy's feet. Grasping his small hands in her own, she kissed them, pressed her tear-streaked face to them, and Ciel suspected he felt his heart-break just a bit. "Ciel, you've done nothing wrong," she said again, in a whisper. "You treated me well all those years ago when we were children and though I knew you didn't love me the way I wanted you to, you were prepared to be my husband and protector. You were always kind to me, you indulged me far too much-I was terribly spoiled!" She lifted her shining green eyes to his finally, and took a steadying breath. "If not for that last dance-that last night you gave me-I would never have made it through my marriage to Regenbogen. I would have surely suffered more if not for the memories you left me. I've carried you in my heart my whole life, Ciel. I've loved you since the day you were born. It matters not that you are a demon, or that Sebastian is a demon, or that you will never be anything more or less than what you are right now. You have always been my Ciel."

"Lizzie..." he breathed, though he wasn't positive if it had passed his lips or if he had imagined he said it. He wanted so badly at that moment to push her away-she was the eternal chink in his armor-because if he didn't push her away, he would grow ever more attached. He was a hairsbreadth from her lips and he knew he shouldn't, but she wasn't going to stop him, he realized and he could taste the honey from her tea on her breath...

"Master?"

Oh, thank God for Sebastian, ironic as it were. It was as if he was testing Ciel's boundaries, and finally finding them lacking, appeared from the kitchen to stop what was certainly about to be an absolute debacle.

Elizabeth launched to her feet so suddenly, Ciel actually jumped. What the hell were we thinking? he asked himself, standing and brushing the wrinkles from his waistcoat. "Sebastian, the Museum? I believe my... confession is complete."

"Indeed, sir. The Museum. Would the Lady Elizabeth care to join us?" he smirked, turning an accusatory glare on the middle-aged woman. She had the good sense to blush.

"NO!" They both barked, and Sebastian had to bite back a laugh. They were both ashamed of what had nearly transpired between them, he knew, though in all honesty, he didn't find it that deplorable. In truth, Ciel was a grown man, he only appeared to be thirteen. And Elizabeth was startlingly beautiful for a woman of forty-five. And they had been betrothed... he supposed he could see the damage it would cause had anyone else seen what was about to happen. But he wouldn't fault his master for his lapse in judgment. He would tease him for it, though.

"Let me get your hats and coats," Elizabeth muttered, making her way to the closet in the foyer, the two demons close at her heels. "Please, both of you, come back to visit," she said. "It was frightening to see you at first, so unchanged, but I've missed you both more than you could know. And we all have so much catching up to do."

"Indeed, my lady," Sebastian replied, taking the young master's coat and draping it over his small squared shoulders. His own followed and then both hats and Ciel's cane. Sebastian took Elizabeth's hand and placed a gallant kiss to the back of her knuckles, then bowing, exited, leaving Ciel standing alone, again, with his Achilles' Heel.

"Elizabeth." He nodded curtly and turned to leave, but felt a small hand grasp his shoulder as he turned.

"Ciel..." she whispered, leaning down, and he panicked for a moment because he had no idea what was going through her mind. "I am serious. Come back. Tell me more about ...everything. I want us to be friends again." She leaned further and pressed a kiss to his forehead-a motherly kiss, he decided-and folded her arms over her chest as she watched him walk out her door.