::6::

It was early morning the next day and due to their surprise guest the whole household had not gained much sleep. Warren had tossed and turned thinking on the arrival of the butler because he unnerved him, but for the strangest reason. He reminded him of Ceceila. The aura that emanated from this…man was the same one that Ceceila possessed when she lost her temper or became upset, albeit the last time she had truly lost her temper the chess pieces they had been arguing over had not survived. As they fell to their feet in a small heap of ash and dust, the curtains in the room had burned and the glass in the windows of the drawing room had blown out. Warren remembers that as the day he realised his twin was different from him in a way he had only ever associated with fairy tales and folklore

He turned to look at the clock it was 04:21, he wanted desperately to just get up and get on with the mission at hand, but his mind was filled with thoughts of the butler. The way he had spoken so formally yet with an air of complete and utter confidence and familiarity as if he could predict what responses would come from his conversation partner. The way he handled himself with Snake, shaking the deadly animals off as if it was nothing. His eloquent words and voice, it demanded that you listen. He thought this was maybe why he had been his father's butler. That was another thing keeping him up.

Despite the fact that he knew, he knew, his father had been a cruel man he still wanted to know more about him. Anytime he asked his mother she always spoke of stories from when they were young, innocent stories that never really gave anything away. What Warren wanted to know was what he was like as the watchdog, so that he had something to compare himself with. It was his greatest insecurity - he scrutinised his every action, he carefully considered his words before speaking and was hyper aware of his family's infamous reputation. He always thought; 'Is this how he would have handled the situation, is this how he would have done it.' Despite his outward confidence he was forever comparing himself to the large shadow that hung over him and it didn't help that he bore such a striking resemblance to the late Earl. He knew if he dyed his hair and put on an eye patch he could easily pass for him.

The temptation to question the butler about his father was dragging him down like a lead balloon and he needed to focus right now, tomorrow – or today rather - he had to be alert and attentive. Warren needed to manoeuvre Margaret into her position and at the same time co-ordinate Ceceila and keep her mood swings under control.

He had managed (just) to come up with a plan that would use Margaret but keep her safe. Warren was still unhappy he had to involve her at all. Truthfully it would be easier if it was just he and Ceceila, but as it was his mother's words were law and if she said bring her into the fold, he had no other choice.

The plan was as follows; Margaret would accidentally run into Dr. Crippen's current lover and using her friendly and persistent demeanour she would keep the woman engaged long enough for Ceceila to make her way to Crippen's hideout and take care of him by making his death look like a suicide. Once Margaret was done distracting Crippen's lover for a good amount of time, Warren would then follow the woman to the location of the bodies and upon reaching it he would arrest her and take her into Scotland yard and let them deal with the rest. Then all would be well and right in England again.

He really hoped Margaret would be able to succeed. They had only known each other a few short days but he found that she was pleasant company. Her conversation was intelligent and her optimistic outlook proved to be a nice reprieve from the usual moody Ceceila or the lecherous, loud talk of Milward and his cronies.

All this nocturnal thinking was making him hungry so he automatically reached for his cigarettes. He sat on the edge of his very large, forest green, quilted bed and inhaled deeply. Honestly smoking brought him a momentary escape that nothing else could.

Before he knew it he had smoked 3 sticks and it was 05:00. Warren thought it was a good a time as any to get up and start getting ready for the operation, as there was no way he was going back to sleep now. He coughed as he put out the stub of his roll-up and he knew that today was going to be difficult. If anything he knew because he could not shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong today. Warren did not usually worry about missions like this, but there was a clawing disquiet at his subconscious that was eating away at any assurance he might have for today.

Conventionally, the bride was not meant to sleep with her groom in the same bed before they were married, but given that they had both lost a spouse, they were older and that they both had children. They both saw no harm in sharing a bed before the wedding. The only thing troubling Elizabeth was that she could not sleep; the mark at the back of her neck was burning something fierce. She had tried to ignore it even gone as far as to take some hot tea with valerian root to aid her sleep, but nothing was working. The searing pain was keeping her awake while John slumbered and gently snored next to her. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore and decided that if she was going to be awake she may as well do something. She thought about going to read but figured that words would not take her mind off of the pain, so Elizabeth opted for some night time training. She slipped on her white fencing breaches and white leather boots and tucked her thin lavender nightgown into them before securing a plain cream corset around her torso to keep her bust from moving and causing more pain. Really it was such an inconvenience to have to wear a corset while fencing.

When she was younger she had been rather flat chested and had not had to worry about such things, but after the birth of her children her body changed and her breasts almost tripled in size since. As such it hurt when she did any sort of exercise without them being secured first.

Elizabeth practised her footwork and her form before falling into a familiar set of lunges and parries. She was building up a good sweat and she couldn't feel the pain as acutely as it had been. She continued working for what must have a good hour as she noticed it was starting to get lighter outside. She paused in her training and decided to go to the kitchen for some water. She always hated walking through the manor at night. She could hear the wind whistling through the house and shadows seemed to flicker and move as if alive in the corner of her eye.

After Ciel's death she had hated the lights being out in the house and demanded that at all times the foyer was lit up and each room had a roaring hearth. This had gone every night until a 4-year-old Ceceila almost burned the place down by setting small fires with the lit candles. It was then that Elizabeth decided that new electric fixtures should be installed throughout the house.

She poured her self a glass of water and gulped it down before pouring herself a second and sat down at the large wooden table used for food preparation. She sipped gently on this glass and noticed that the pain in the back of neck was no longer present. She placed her glass down and rolled her shoulders easing her muscles to cool down after her session. She closed her eyes and massaged the back of her neck and shoulders, squeezing hard on the tense muscles at her shoulder blades.

"You always looked so enticing with the sheen of sweat on your porcelain skin."

Elizabeth's eyes flew open and she whipped around knocking her glass to the ground with a smash and reached for her sword only to find it missing. She had left it upstairs.

There stood before her was Sebastian. She had not seen him in 17 years, but he looked no different. He still looked perfect, his eyes still held the dark lust and desire, his face held no trace of a wrinkle and his outfit was the exact same black woollen tailcoats and white gloves he always wore.

Elizabeth was speechless she did not what to say. She could barely even think her mind simply went blank and she stared open-mouthed feeling a torrent of emotion welling up inside her. Anger, however, was the primary feeling.

"Why…." She could not think and she felt her heart beat faster and faster until she could hear the blood pulsing through her veins. He chuckled.

"You ask why, I ask why not my Lady?" he moved languidly so that he was on the opposite side of the table from her. "17 years may seem a long time to you, but to me it feels like an instance, as though I never left. Although, surprisingly, you do seem to be doing well raising your little hellions without my aid-" She cut him off.

"Silence. You, who are a manipulator and a cur, are not allowed to speak to me about my children. I am not the young girl I was and I will not listen your poisonous words, if you think in your hellish mind for one moment that I will let you within a mile of Ceceila, or Warren, you are mistaken."

Elizabeth found herself shaking in anger with her fists balled. She was furious, but given the hour and the nature of the conversation she could not raise her voice. Instead her words came out as a violent whisper and it took everything she had not to let a tears slip down her face. Not tears of sorrow however, no she held no sadness in her heart for him, they were tears of fury.

In response she received his low and amused chuckle, which was - as ever - as dark and as smooth as rich chocolate.

"There was a time when you drank my words in, as if they were the waters of life, when I worshiped your body in the darkness of this house, when I whispered what you desired, what you truly are into your mind. You did not protest then. When your husband was cruel and callous to you, was it not me that sheltered you from him? Was it not me that wrapped you, bathed in silver moonlight, safe in my arms where he could not touch? Was it not me that loved you?" he said while smiling his crows smile.

At some point he had moved to stand directly in front of Elizabeth without her noticing. She had heard his words with clarity. Her mind was her own and would no longer be clouded by his influence.

"You never loved me Sebastian." Elizabeth sneered in his face. "You are incapable of the emotion. You were ordered to seduce me by your master and like a good dog you followed his order. That is all you ever were and will be – a dog."

She looked down as her hard expression faltered "And I stupidly fell for your tricks and lies."

He scoffed "Tricks maybe Elizabeth, but lies? If you remember correctly my former master forbade me from lying, never once did I lie to you. I may have spun the absolute truth and weaved it expertly into half-truths, but lies? Never." He brought his gloved right hand to lift her chin and she instinctively grabbed his wrist.

"Do not even think about kissing me, I will bite off your malicious tongue." The rage is Elizabeth's gaze was as stormy and as vicious as the sea.

"As much as I would delight in ravishing that sharp little mouth of yours Elizabeth, I am afraid I must return to London, you see there is one exceedingly interesting young woman and one wholly bothersome brat that I must attend to. Since they have, as of last night, employed my services as a butler."

Elizabeth's visible rage vanished and was instantly replaced by pure fear.

"What have you done to them?" she said panicked.

"Nothing you need not worry." He started to walk away towards the pantry and he picked up an orange and pocketed it. "And I will do nothing to them, I am their butler after all." he said mockingly.

"I swear Sebastian if you hurt them I-" she was suddenly pushed against the wall and his body pinned hers, he was mirroring what he had done to initiate their first time they had coupled, years ago on that fateful night in Vienna. This time however, he was intimately familiar with her body, her mind, and everything that made Elizabeth herself. Truthfully Sebastian had had a hand in creating her as she was now.

"You will what Elizabeth, kill me? Your threats towards my person mean as little to me as time." He said casually.

Elizabeth was squirming under his grasp trying to wriggle her way free, but this only made him grip tighter and press against her harder. His fangs elongated, his eyes glowed red and his form flickered like the shadows of the house.

He was so close their lips were almost touching.

"Besides, why would I hurt my own child?" Elizabeth stopped moving instantly. Although she had known it, the absolute confirmation that Ceceila was Sebastian's child – a demon's child - caused a myriad of feeling to well up. The crow continued. "There is so much potential within her. Chaos swims around her, it is quite beautiful, alas if only your human eyes could see it." His voice was low and it consumed her, she could hear nothing else.

Elizabeth closed her eyes to blink the tears away and when she opened them suddenly he was just gone, as if he never been there at all. Elizabeth slid down the kitchen wall her breath rapid and her heart beating out her ears. Why now? Why now when everything was starting to come together in her life did he have to come back? She was convinced that he was doing this on purpose; wanting to ruin the peace she had created and delicately balanced on a daily basis. She remained on the floor of the kitchen in her fencing gear for how long she was not sure, but it was here that her future husband found her. Found her sobbing with red-rimmed eyes and her knees curled up to her chest.

John was so unlike Sebastian in the way he approached her, he was tentative, but caring not aggressive and dominant. His eyes spoke only of wanting to help and care for her, he must have – Elizabeth assumed – thought that she was crying over her late husband. As when he embraced her with his large broad-shouldered frame in a tight hug he whispered that he understood and that he would wait for her and support her.

Elizabeth knew she should stand up and declare that her children were in trouble and they needed help, but her whole body was shaking in anger and paralyzing fear and all she could do was cling to John in a hope that she would quiet. She thought she was better, stronger than this, she thought that if he ever appeared again she would be able to shrug him off. Tell him he was not welcome and that he had no right to be near her or her children. She had been naïve, to think he would acquiesce. Sebastian was a demon he did not need to respect her or her wishes, he could do and say as he pleased and that is exactly what he had done. She had been so, so, naïve to think that he would do anything but exactly what he wanted to do, with no regard for her or anyone else. She needed to warn Warren and Ceceila to the very real danger of his manipulative nature, now. She tried so hard to stand up she fought the tears, the shakes, and the wracking sobs, but to no avail. Every moment she had spent with the crow came back flooding and overwhelming her senses. She fell asleep crying in John's arms and he carried her back up to the bedroom, with such gentleness and caring that it hurt.

It was around 9 in the morning when Ceceila found her brother sitting in the drawing room rolling fresh cigarettes and he had presumably been there for quite a while if the full ashtray was anything to go by.

"Are you ready for today?" Ceceila said in her flat monotone.

"Of course. I have briefed Margaret she is fully aware of what she needs to do." Warren's tone was stressed and clipped, quite unlike him Ceceila thought.

She moved silently to sit next to her twin something was amiss with him, but she was unsure what. Warren was usually overly talkative when it came to watchdog work, he would be compensating for the nervous energy he always felt. Today was different though; there was tenseness in his shoulders and a frown in his forehead that was definitely new.

"You are staring at me Ceceila." It was said a statement, but was meant as a warning, she could hear it in his voice.

"You seem different is everything well?" she said.

He brought a fresh roll-up to his lips, struck a match and lit the stick with a well practised motion.

"You seem different too, since when have you given two hoots about my well-being. Stop staring at me, stop pretending to care and leave me be. Go and find that infernal butler, I thought I told you to keep an eye on him." He inhaled a long drag of smoke deep into his lungs and sighed. "Just leave me be."

Ceceila felt a sharp pang in her chest, it happened only when Warren aimed sharp words at her, she didn't quite understand the emotion she only knew that she did not like the way it made her feel, but regardless there was a reason she sought Warren out.

"About him, I think we should bring him along with us today." Her monotone providing calm to Warren's perplexed face.

"What! That is a dreadful idea! We cannot trust the man yet you wish to bring him along to watch us carry out secret work for the King. And with Margaret already being with us! I knew you could be stupid sometimes Ceceila, but this takes the biscuit." He angrily scoffed at her before piling his fresh cigarettes into his case.

Ceceila was staring to lose patience with him. He did not need to behave so heatedly towards her when she was making –despite Warren's counter claims– a rather smart idea.

"I do not want him to simply watch us Warren. I want him to help us. In case you have not realised yet he is the aforementioned butler in black who is often cited by our father's old associates." She kept her tone and expression blank.

"Of course I have realised that fact." He ran his right hand through his sandy locks in frustration. "Which is exactly why he should not come along. He will most likely try to employ methods used by our father and as we both know the former Earl of Phantomhive was not above murder and other equally evil things to acquire the outcome he desired." He said visibly anxious.

Ceceila looked her brother dead in the eye and said. "How are father's methods any different from ours Warren? I have tortured and hurt people for information is that not evil?"

"You are different though Ceceila, you do not enjoy the things you do. From what we know father was a sadist who relished the work of the watchdog and often went further than needed, but you realise they are necessary and do them because you have to not because you want to."

"I do them because you will not, because you are weak." She stated plainly.

It was a statement not meant to hurt. Ceceila meant it with no ill intent, she simply said what she saw and that was Warren's unwillingness to hurt others because he was not strong enough to bear the burden of the watchdog. He could threaten and posture, but his words –as frightening as they were – were simply that, words. Not that anyone else knew this publically. The Phantomhive reputation instilled fear in others automatically and Warren always used this to his advantage. Used her to his advantage.

Ceceila looked at her brother and she considered his face and how it so quickly changed. Gone was his somewhat annoyed gaze and aggravated animated facial expressions. His blue eyes had gone colder than ice and his eyebrows were arched in an angry scowl. His thin lips turned down in a sneer and for the first time - she thought - he looked truly angry, perhaps even a little frightening.

Unfortunately, it was at this point that door opened and the black butler swanned in a smirk present on his face.

"My, my you do look so like your father with that scary face." he brought his hand up to his lips in mock thought. "I could fetch a wig and eye patch and you could scare your enemies away as his ghost. I am positive it would work."

"OUT!" Warren roared as he picked up a vase and flung it at the butler. He turned his back to both of them and as he did so Sebastian grabbed Ceceila's wrist and pulled her out of the room with her.

Now usually had someone grabbed her she would root her stance to the ground and the one who grabbed her would fall, but as she tried this she found that the butlers strength trumped hers and she was dragged along by the wrist despite her trying to stop. Well this was new.

"I think we best let your brother calm down yes? It would not serve us to have someone so irate carrying out the duties of the watchdog, although I do agree with your observation, the young master is rather weak. It's a shame really, given who his mother is I fully expected him to have good strength of character, but it would seem he truly is his father's son, petulant, irritable, childish and overly emotional. "

She let the butler drag her through the house, still a little confused at how he could match her strength. Her earlier assumption that he was not human must be correct. He had not been paying attention to where he was taking her until they ended up in the library. Surprisingly Margaret was sat down reading a book and eating her breakfast at the table and her head turned towards them when they entered her eyes warily looking at the gloved hand tight on Ceceila's wrist.

"Everything alright Ceceila?" She turned her attention to Sebastian. "Perhaps you should let go of her wrist Mister Michaelis? It's hardly proper for a servant to hold his mistresses arm in such a manner." She stood and gave Sebastian a stern a glare as she could muster.

"Once again you correct me on matters of household etiquette Miss Sinclair, perhaps I should take lessons from you." And he let go of Ceceila's arm.

"If you need lessons around why you should not grip a lady so, I highly doubt your credentials as a butler." She moved to stand behind the table and Ceceila noticed the very obvious worry in her face. She does not know why, but she felt a small need to ease the worry from the brunette's usually bright face.

"Nothing is wrong Margaret except for my brothers foul mood. You can cheer him up. Go, he is in the drawing room." Ceceila said and she nodded her head in the direction of where Warren was.

"Most likely sulking as a child would." The butler added disdainfully.

Margaret hesitantly picked up her book and cast a concerned look Ceceila's way before she departed the library, leaving Ceceila and the butler alone.

Once she was sure Margaret had left, Ceceila spun around looking him dead in the eye, unwavering. She would have answers.

"What are you?" the intensity of her stare, made the butler smirk and he took both her hands in his.

"I am as you are little one, but I think you already know this." He ran his gloved thumbs over the palms of her hands in a circular motion, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You are not all human does that mean I am not all human either?" she gripped his hands as they lay in hers.

"What do you wish to be? Do you wish to be an inhuman monster-" he smiled wide "-or do you wish to be a young London society girl, who will marry a young London society gentleman and breed perfectly well-mannered, well behaved little society children." He said with sarcasm and contemptuousness.

"I wish I could be normal, not odd looking or strange. I wish I had friends." Ceceila had the strangest feeling that she had had this conversation before and had it in this room with Sebastian; this was impossible of course, as she had only just met him.

"Little one, you wish to be normal, but by nature's own law you are not. You think your brother understands your suffering but he fixes in so well to this city and he is well liked by many. You should not strive to be 'normal', you should embrace your nature. It may seem frightening at first, and it may feel like a pull towards to the abyss. But be rest assured little one, when you finally find it within yourself to accept who you are, the freedom you feel will be euphoric." He brought her hands up and kissed them lightly and as he did so his eyes glowed red.

It was the same red that Ceceila's eyes glowed when she was upset or when she exerted herself physically, and at this, realisation flooded her veins. He truly was like her, she had found another who understood. Things started to slot into place like a puzzle being completed. The way her mother was not horrified when she had first tortured someone, the way she dealt with Ceceila's mood swings and temper, and how the spontaneous combustion of objects at the manner did not surprise her. Her mother had experienced it before with her father when Sebastian had been his butler. One thing eluded her however, if she was not all human why wasn't Warren the same? They were twins after all, they should be the same but they could not be more different.

As if sensing the question the butler quelled her spinning mind to quiet.

"Do not burden your mind over the details little one, be true to yourself and all will become apparent eventually. All that fog clouding the answers you seek will be lifted, you need only give in to the darkness the next time you feel it calling."

Giving in went against everything Ceceila had been taught. She had been taught that every person had a moral compass and that it was of the utmost importance that she keep hers pointing north, especially given the work of the watchdog. Her family operated in a grey area, but at a point there was a line that could not be crossed. The temptation however to give in and cross that line was strong, she had felt the so called pull of the abyss before and it took Ceceila so much strength the last time to stop herself from doing something she could not take back. Could she give in? She was not sure. The butler gently held her by the shoulders and gave her such a strange look, like he could see everything she wanted to know.

"If you are unsure remember that when you do give in to the darkness and you will, that I am here to guide you through that darkness. You will never be lost to it. I will be there with you, always." His voice was low and smooth and he spoke with a sure decisiveness. She should not trust him she knew this. She had known him only a day, but it felt like she had known him her whole lifetime.

It was at this point that she made a conscious decision to give in the next time she felt darkness calling, and then maybe she would see herself for who she really was.

A/N: Me oh my, I had intended to write the showdown chapter in this one but this felt like a good place to end, plus this ended up slightly different than I planned. Next chapter will be the action one, any guessing on how Ceceila will give into darkness? I'd love to hear your guesses. Please fav, follow and REVIEW!

Peace.