|Undertaker's Shop|
After clearing out the last cloud of dust Madeleine set her hands on her hips, huffing once in satisfaction. Though she had officially been cleared again for missions the tasks she got were run of the mill; boring and easily fixed, but she used the actual permission to go to the Middle Realm to visit Undertaker once she finished instead of reporting back immediately. With only a few days left to go until Christmas, she spent most of her time with him asking countless questions, wanting to know if things changed much since her death.
Only this afternoon when she'd arrived at his shop the sign read closed. The easy part: getting in, albeit concerned he might have broken a hip. However, she detected no signs of him once she'd gotten inside other than a note he left for her on the table, mentioning he'd be late and she shouldn't wait, along with some papers intended for a 'tiny Earl' should she meet him.
After deliberating for a few moments she'd gone and gotten groceries. With his eating habits, he obviously did not consume the necessary amount of vegetables; something which she planned on remedying. After groceries she'd set to cleaning the shop, once more clearing away tea-filled beakers.
The tingling of the bell on the shop door signaled a costumer. With a frown she realized she must have accidentally flipped the 'closed' sign when coming back inside. Madeleine turned around with a smile but stopped when she couldn't see anyone on her eye level.
"Ahem."
Following the source of the cough, she looked down to one brilliant blue eye of a young boy, quite well-off- judging from his clothes-, though the eye-patch suggested an accident of sorts. The scowl on his face indicated a state of perpetual annoyance, but he was still awfully cute, even for a young boy. So she smiled and cocked her head to the side. "I'm sorry, but the shop's closed. I'm very sorry for your loss though."
He seemed taken aback by her comment before he realized he was, in fact, in an undertaker shop. With a grim look he shook his head. "I'm here to see Undertaker. He had some important information for me and… what's with that look?"
"Could you be the tiny Earl he was mentioning?" Madeleine asked innocently.
Seemed like she had hit a bulls-eye from the way he twisted. Murderous, he looked about the shop, prepared to add a fresh corpse to Undertaker's steady stream of 'guests'. "Where is he?"
"Out," Madeleine answered at once. "But don't worry, I have the papers he mentioned, just wait here a second."
She walked over to the counter, the young boy glaring at her back the entire time. "I didn't know the old man hired an assistant."
"Oh… ahaha, I'm not really his assistant," Madeleine said, gathering the papers in a neat stack. When she threw a glance at them, she noted they concerned a follow-up investigation on the Ripper case. Though she'd been glad to hear about the apprehension of the Reaper responsible, she didn't feel comfortable knowing such a young boy should be involved in it, even if he didn't know anything about Reapers."We're more like friends. Oh, have a cookie."
The little Earl glanced from the cookie to her smiling face. "So, even that guy manages to make friends, huh? You must be pretty weird too."
Madeleine felt her face twitch at the comment. What a rude little character the kid was. "Well, he's very nice. Though his jokes are a bit weird… does he always insist on… you know, never mind, maybe he hasn't done that to you yet," she muttered, thinking about the time she had had to 'shake his hand'. Afterwards, she'd given him a stern lecture about leaving body parts attached to dead people.
The boy sized her up, eyes trailing up and down as if he expected to read her like a book. "At least you don't have his sense of humor. Tell your friend I stopped by."
"Who should I say stopped by, then?"
The boy looked behind him just as the door was opened by a tall, black-haired butler. "The Earl of Phantomhive."
Madeleine watched the boy leave, shivering as something shifted in the air. The butler had glanced her over, almost as if he felt the same thing, before smiling and escorting the boy out. "Phantomhive… huh?"
She thought back at what Undertaker had said, about her time as a Lady. He'd seemed so sure about it too, almost as if he had been there. She only had fuzzy memories of how she died. Shaking her head, she switched the shop sign to 'closed' before walking to the kitchen. The only thing that seemed to be regularly used there was the oven. Quickly she located an apron - frilly for some reason - and tied it at her front. Cooking stains would be hard to explain in the Upper Realm.
She followed a recipe book that, despite looking fairly old, also seemed practically unused, a stark contrast to the note book lying on the counter. When she opened it, she found a list of hand-written dessert recipes, several of them bookmarked with pieces of tattered black or gray silk. When she flicked to the one pink silk strip, she found a recipe for what appeared to be his trademark cookies. In fresh ink, a message in swirly letters scrawled underneath the recipe:
"She still loves them."
After the message, a heart drawn in the same delicate swirl of the handwriting.
The message made her smile; the idea of Undertaker being so sentimental was quite sweet, though she did wonder who the 'she' was. She hunted around the small kitchen for things she needed, the note slipping from her mind. Once the soup had started cooking, she got started on dinner, a simple meal of potatoes, chicken, and spinach. Though the angel couldn't remember actually cooking before, it couldn't be that hard, right?
The moment the soup started to bubble, a cough coming from the door startled her. Turning, she spotted Undertaker at once, looking a tad bedraggled, a stack of books underneath his arm. Water dripped from his long coat and the tips of his hair, as if he'd gotten caught in a rainstorm unexpectedly. He tilted his head to the side, observing her from underneath his black hat. "I'm home?"
"Uhm… welcome home?" She tried, unsure of the answer he was looking for.
He scratched his cheek with one finger, possibly embarrassed. "I wasn't really expecting you to still be here. And you're… uhm… cooking?"
Madeleine nodded. "Yes! You see, you don't eat enough vegetables, Undertaker. And you've been taking such good care of me, so I thought I'd do something nice for you as well. Should I have asked you first?"
Undertaker shook his head as he placed his stack of books on one of the counters, unbuttoning his coat. Madeleine paused in her work as she realized she'd never seen him without it before. Underneath the black coat, he wore a simple black shirt - though the white collar indicated he had another one underneath - and black pants. Only his long leather boots surprised her. She grabbed a towel and presented it to him, looking up at him with a smile. "You should dry off; you might catch a cold."
He accepted the towel, both his hands brushing by hers. The smile on his face wasn't one of amusement this time, but softer, more gentle. "You take good care of me as well."
Their height difference forced her to crane her neck upwards to him, though it didn't feel forced where he was concerned. Maybe it was his perpetual smile that made him seem so non-threatening, though his comment just now made her feel awkward again. "Th-that's nothing. I mean, it's not nothing. But there's just-"
"Hahahaha!" He walked to the side door where he could access his living room to drop off his books. "You're so adorable when you get awkward." He popped back inside only seconds later, his head inclined towards the soup and other pots on the stove. "By the way, have you cooked before?"
Madeleine shook her head. "Not that I remember. I thought I did when I was still alive, but if you're right and I was a lady, this would probably be my first time… did I say something wrong?"
He coughed as if he had something stuck in his throat for a moment. "Then I'd be honored to have your first cooking, even if it's vegetables." He said the last words as if in a distant past, vegetables had done him a great personal wrong.
"Oh, well, the soup is ready so…" By the time she had started speaking, he'd darted back to the living room, leaving her alone in the kitchen. Fruitlessly, she searched for more than some beakers, only turning up with a plain mug that looked like it'd been chipped a long time ago. Deciding it was better than nothing, she filled it up and carried it to the living room along with a spoon.
Undertaker had made himself comfortable on an old couch, boots taken off revealing socks with a dog motif as he had his feet resting on a low table. Peering at one of the new books he'd brought along, he held it close to his face, as if he needed glasses to get the reading done. The towel she'd just given him was draped on top of his head, giving him a rather queer appearance. "The soup is ready?"
"That's what I said just now, but you were gone so fast. Dinner's going to be a bit longer, though, since I had no idea what time you would be arriving." She sat down next to him when he patted the couch, carefully balancing the mug so she wouldn't spill. When she tried to hand him the mug, he shook his head.
"I have my hands all full, see?" he waved the book in the air with two hands.
"Oh, I'll just leave it here then," Madeleine replied, scooting forward to reach the low table nearby.
"But I'm hungry," Undertaker complained.
Madeleine glanced between him and the book. "Then you should put down your book and eat."
With a grin he looked at her. "Feed me?"
"That again? You're a grown man, surely you could-"
"Aaaah!" He opened his mouth, continuing the sound every time she tried to say something. Madeleine glanced back and forth, shifting in her seat. Was he actually serious about this? Still, it was a fairly innocent request. Trying to keep a straight face, she picked up the spoon.
"Just this once then," she muttered, dipping the spoon in the soup. Carefully, she brought it to his mouth but when it touched his lips, he withdrew at once.
"Hot!" he complained, blowing furiously to cool his tongue.
"Sorry!" Quickly she blew on the soup. When she offered the spoon again, he accepted more carefully, though this time he didn't seem to be burning his face.
"How is it?"
"Needs more salt…" he thought out loud before he continued, "...but all the love you put in it makes up for the flavor."
"…dummy," she mumbled before blowing on the next spoonful.
"You always blush when you're praising me like that."
"Only a dummy would think that's praise," she replied. Who had ever heard of a mortal making an angel spoonfeed him? She didn't even know why she was complying, other than the fact that she really did consider him a good friend with a few odd quirks. She didn't point out he wasn't getting much reading done this way either, but instead shifting a bit closer so she wouldn't have to reach so far.
Halfway through the cupful, he placed the book to the side, instead taking the spoon from her hand. "Now it's your turn."
Stunned, she watched him blow on a spoonful of now lukewarm soup before he brought the spoon to her. "Now, say 'aaah'."
She looked to the side, not believing what he was trying to pull. Luckily, nobody saw them like this, or else people might have thought they were a couple or something relevant to that. "That really isn't appropriate."
"Aah," he insisted.
Madeleine could actually feel her cheeks growing hotter by the second. "Are you an idiot or something?"
"Just one bite… for me?" he pleaded with her. The spoon hovered in the air between them, threatening to spill its contents over her white clothes.
Madeleine glanced at the man. The grin on his face showed how thoroughly amused he looked by the situation. The more she resisted the funnier, he probably thought. Resolved to get it over with, she finally faced him again and opened her mouth.
Being fed was weird. After the first spoon, she tried to walk away, but he stopped her once again. After a few more spoonfuls, she nodded, desperate for something to say. "You're right… it needs more salt."
"It's perfect," he claimed, bringing the last spoonful to her mouth. A drop pooled in the corner of her mouth before she could swallow, trickling past her chin. Undertaker leaned closer and for a moment she feared -hoped?- he'd kiss it away. Instead, he brushed his thumb past it, cleaning it up for her. Her heart made a strange little jolt at the feeling of his cool skin near her heated lips. "I'll drink another mug by myself, then. I wouldn't want the rest of the meal you're cooking to burn."
Suddenly, she remembered she still had food boiling on the stove. With a very unangelic swear, she scrambled up from the couch, rushing towards the door. In the kitchen, she just very nearly saved the potatoes from boiling over. The angel pressed her hands against her chest. Surely just because she'd rushed over here didn't mean a fast-beating heart! It couldn't have anything to do with the man in the other room. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down. She denied believing that a mortal would have so much influence over her.
"You big dummy."
|Upper Realm|
"Madeleine."
The angel froze in place. She'd snuck back in way past her curfew but with full hope nobody would notice. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Costel leaning against the wall, his shaggy blond hair only aiding his usual 'fresh out of bed' look. Thanks to his recent transfer to the elite troops, they hadn't seen much of him. "Long time no see, Costel."
"You've been sneaky lately," Costel commented, taking a bonbon from one of his pockets. He motioned her to come closer, handing her one as well. "They're Funtom candy, really good. But that isn't what I need to see you about. Rafael was asking questions about you."
"Lord Rafael was?"
"Don't worry too much about it. It's just that he noticed you've been awfully slow in completing your missions. For some reason, he wanted to know if you felt strange lately. So, are you?"
"Am I what?" Madeleine asked out of reflex.
"Are you feeling sick? That's what I think he was hinting at. Maybe some angels get really sick if they're new." Well, at least this was typically Costel. He preferred asking someone straight out instead of sneaking around to gather information.
Madeleine thought about the question. "I don't think I've been feeling sick."
No, she hadn't been feeling sick. But she had been feeling something. Lately, she couldn't sleep at night, laying awake while her mind kept racing, wondering who she was. Who she had once been. Constant questions running through her mind, demanding answers. At times she felt like going crazy. That's why she liked going to the Middle Realm. The questions quieted down there.
Costel placed a hand against her forehead while he popped another bonbon in his mouth. "You don't feel feverish to me. Still, be careful on your missions. Rafael has some search teams in place. If you go out to have fun, ask me which zones are safe first."
"What?"
Costel didn't even seem fazed at the following facts. "Sometimes angels go out to play instead of doing their job, especially the new ones. Most quiet down after a week or so though. Still, if you're late because you went out to play around, you could get in serious trouble."
"What kind of places do they check?" Madeleine asked, hoping they weren't near Undertaker's shop too often.
The other angel rubbed his chin, studying the ceiling. "The fun places, I guess. You know, cool restaurants or weird shops; circuses, if they're passing through. Lively places with lots of people."
Well, that probably meant a cemetery was a safe place to hang out. Though it was probably a tad sad for her to spend most of her time in a place like that. Costel stopped her before she walked away. "What time are you going to the Christmas party?"
She hadn't thought about it yet with Christmas only just a few days away, but she'd been so caught up in her own problems, she kind of had ignored its existence. "I don't know. Haven't made plans yet."
The idea of Undertaker spending Christmas alone popped in her head. He seemed well—liked enough in his neighborhood by some people but he hadn't mentioned any specific plans. When she thought back to the day they held hands, she remembered he 'hadn't realized it was that time of year'.
He hadn't asked her if she had plans. Maybe he assumed she already had some? But after 200 years of Christmas in the Upper Realm, maybe she could spend the time in the Middle Realm?
"If you could, around nine would be a great time to arrive. Lord Michael mentioned he wanted to talk to you before the party started. So yeah, arrive at nine?"
Something in Costel's words made her want to obey his request. Spending time at a party with fellow angels was surely better for the Light than going to the Middle Realm? An archangel wanted to speak to her. All the more reason to obey her instincts and stay here! Yet there was something in her that dragged her to the Middle Realm.
"Madeleine, be there at nine, okay?"
The words tugged at her, made her want to follow orders. A 'yes' nearly burst from her lips. Instead she bit her lip as she placed a hand against her chest. Her heart beat erratically, trying to withstand what felt like a command.
"I'll… I'll think about it."
Special thanks to Razzeeberry and the major overhaul they did on this chapter! Like, wow, all these commas. Truth be told, commas scare me. I've never been good with them, mostly because we don't use them that much in my language. That or I never paid attention to them. They also did some nifty things where they expressed what I was trying to say better. It's an intimidating feeling though, giving my work to someone else to correct it. But they did great! (Commas... so many commas...I actually should tell them I appreciate the hard work!)
Amandalucia : Hehheh, I passed most of my exams, except for the ones where I was pretty much dead due exhaustion ^^"
Valogirl : Thank you so much, I'm happy you liked it ^^ I hope this chapter held a nice fluff moment for you as well ^^
FleurSuoh : And this is the next part, enjoy!