Once again, present tense (with past perfect tense when necessary) for real time, and past tense for flash backs and memories.
"Sit."
Sebastian turned from his place at the door to face the earl. Ciel was at his desk, eye patch balled up in that beautiful pale hand of his. The contract blazed in the noble's eye.
"Yes, my lord."
The cart was pushed back into the study and left abandoned as Sebastian placed himself into the seat opposite his master. Ciel reset the pieces.
"Young master, if I may—"
"No. Your move." Ciel looked up at Sebastian, both eyes gleaming.
He wants me to play white? How very interesting. …
"My lord, for you play a person beneath your station, such as myself, … well that would be simply inappropriate. If you wish, I can arrange another appointment for you with Lady Elizab—"
"No." Don't you dare. "That won't be necessary. But wouldn't a proper tutor indulge his pupil with a game of strategy when asked?"
Sebastian solemnly crossed a gloved hand over his heart. "It would be an honor." His long fingers grazed the the head of a white pawn.
"Sebastian, you're not to go easy on me."
"I wouldn't dream of it." The pawn was pushed forward two spaces.
The black knight jumped out from behind the infantry line. "Is that so, demon?"
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "As you can see," he gripped the armrests of his chair and made a good show of trying to stand. The wooden joints squeaked in protest. "I do only as you ask." He collapsed back into the seat, contract still warm on the back of his hand.
Ciel made his move, never breaking eye contact with the demon. "Since when do you do what I ask and not some twisted perversion of it?"
"The nature of your orders do, on occasion, warrant creative license." He punctuated his sentence by setting his bishop down with a soft felt-muffled thump. "If I couldn't at least anticipate your needs and react accordingly, what kind of butler would I—"
"Hogwash." Sebastian's pawn was kicked off the board.
"Is something bothering you, my lord? A particular instance my performance did not meet your expectations?"
"Yes." The temperature in the room dropped five degrees. "Are you going to move, or are you going to glare me to death?"
"If I may speak freely, I'd prefer you'd release me so I can see to my other responsibilities." His voice was overly crisp; Ciel knew he was seething.
"The Campania departs on the seventeenth. Considering your improvisations on the last two investigations for Her Majesty, I just want to know for sure where your priorities lie before I put myself on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic with you and Lizzy. That's not unreasonable, is it?"
A breath hissed across the fangs Sebastian was struggling to retract. "No, sir."
"Then answer me this, and I'll release you." Ciel lowered his voice and met Sebastian's blood red eyes without hesitation. "How hungry are you?"
"You needn't ask me that. I am, as always, your loyal servant." His hands were scrunching the fabric of his pants.
"I want my goals to be just as clear to you. I want my revenge, and I don't care whose life it will cost for me to obtain it. That includes your life and mine." His eyelashes fluttered as he briefly closed his eyes. "I caught you smelling the back of Finny's neck a week ago. You seemed desperate."
"Ah yes, being buried alive does that to a person."
He was sweating. Ciel didn't know the demon could sweat. "Yesterday you lingered a bit too long by Bard and Snake. Care to explain?"
"My appetite will not compromise my obedience. Our contract insures that much." Never in their time together had Sebastian spoken with such conviction.
The earl sighed like he was six times his age. "Fine. You're free to go." I know you're hiding things from me, demon.
Sebastian sprung out of the chair that had held him captive. "How kind of you." He smiled as he took his king and gently laid it on its side. "Well played, my lord." Of course I'm hiding things from you.
He scooped up the small piece of fabric and fastened the black silk cords to the back of Ciel's head with a perfect bow. Do you want to know how I really feel?
Sebastian had the the tea cart halfway out the door by the time Ciel had his gun in his hand, aimed straight at the ceiling, elbow propped on his desk. The way the young lord too often did when lost in deep thought.
I'm ravenous.
The morning of Sebastian's disappearance finishes with remarkably fewer disasters than Ciel anticipated. Granted, two saucers, a couple of rose bushes, and a ham had to be laid to the rest, but the staff manages to more or less perform their duties without the butler's supervision.
Following his outburst on the front lawn, Tanaka orders Finny to subdue the earl and bring him back into the Manor. It takes a super powered gardener, a baritsu master, and a chain smoker to drag the kicking and screaming noble into the study.
Tanaka leaves the letter from Her Majesty with Ciel, and after a short apology for his rough treatment of the young man (no butler in his right mind could stand by his master making as fool of himself), he hurries off to show Bard the spare room the chef is to be staying in while his room is being cleaned.
To himself, Ciel admits his actions had been childish, and makes a resolution that he shall not allow himself to appear shaken in any way by the current circumstances. Undertaker's attacks on the Campania had taken a toll on the demon, but the he reckons Sebastian should be just about recovered after roughly five nights of rest aboard the rescue ship, and is most likely fighting his way from his abductors at this very moment.
If the royal seal isn't enough of a sign of the letter's authenticity, the faint smell of tobacco and arrogance from one of the white Charles is. He takes the heirloom silver opener and slides it easily through the vellum—Sebastian likes a good edge to be kept on every blade in the house. The earl recognizes the queen's perfect script immediately.
My dear Watchdog, There is talk of coated lead pieces being passed off as silver coinage in the lower courts. I suspect the circulation of the counterfeit begins in criminal underground, and may be associated with a number of disappearances in the red light district. Please investigate further. -V
Ciel sighs to himself for the millionth time that morning. Even compelled by an order, Sebastian hasn't returned, and the earl's duty to the crown cannot be delayed further. Not without shedding doubt on the absolute authority of the house of Phantomhive. The demon will have hell to pay for forcing him to resort to less elegant measures.
"Damn it Lau! Get these disgusting females off of me!" Ciel reaches out to push one of the girls away, only to find that he has made contact with a part of the woman's body that makes blood rush to his cheeks. The girl giggles as she holds the earl's small palm in place. Snake is three feet away, receiving the same warm welcome as his master, and is impossibly more at a loss of words than usual.
"Oh Earl, that's no way to treat my sisters." The criminal lifts the pipe to Ran-Mao lips, who is currently straddling the man. "Girls, the Earl Phantomhive and I would like a private moment."
The ladies whine as they slither off the boys, one hastily planting a trail of kisses on the noble's neck. Ciel nearly dies.
"How was your trip at sea? What I've heard was quite tragic, yet I haven't had the opportunity to speak with a primary source until now."
Ciel straightens, and musters all the intimidation he can, knowing that in a fight, Lau's current company could pound him into pie filling.
"I'm not here to gossip around. If you want to know, read yourself a paper. The tabloids are chock full of that dramatic nonsense."
Lau smiles. "So then why have you ventured into my humble home? If my sisters aren't to you're liking, I do have other ways of bringing you pleasure." He exhales a stream of thick smoke.
Ciel coughs, sick of the opium and the criminal's laid back attitude. "Sebastian, my butler. Have you heard anything of his whereabouts?"
"Not a single word."
The pit in Ciel's stomach returns. Something is extremely wrong with the demon.
Lau continues, "I suggest you keep the people you care about closer to you. That's what I do to keep my family safe. Isn't that right, Ran-Mao?" He rolls his hips, raising the body guard higher up on his lap.
The earl swallows his revulsion. "What about counterfeiting? You haven't decided to expand your business, have you?"
"Why would I? Bad money makes for bad business. And besides, inflation harms those I morally have qualms about taking advantage of."
"Of all people, Lau? You? Morals?"
Ran-Mao is up and moving, her weapon of choice ready to simultaneously strike the side of both the earl's head and Snake's. A bullet pierces the pink rose pleated into her hair from across the street as a warning, sending petals drifting to the floor. She doesn't even flinch.
"Yes, Earl. There are groups of people even despicable individuals such as myself are protective of. That we would never think to harm. The old. The mentally ill …"
His eyes open to reveal a cold fire burring within him. "And children."
Lau ignores the pair snakes that are twining around his wrists—Oscar and Wilde. Ciel's counterattacks, if it can be called that, aren't worth his attention. "You see Earl, following the night Ran-Mao and I spent at your Manor, a little birdie told me of your method of dealing with leftovers at the Kelvin Estate."
He searches Ciel's face for a drop of remorse and finds none. "If you gather nothing else of the workings of the criminal underworld, know this: we care for our own."
"What do you want," Ciel spits out, trying not imagine the club-like weapon splattering brain matter on to the carpet, "an apology?"
"No, earl. That's not what I want. I don't want to hurt you, nor do I wish to impede your investigation, either. Her Majesty's best interest happen to align with mine for the time being. However, I cannot so easily forgive you."
He smiles, and Ran-Mao lowers her weapons in favor of returning to Lau and wrapping her arms across his chest. "I'll probably come around in a week. Maybe two, just to be safe."
Ciel breathes deeply, wishing even more for Sebastian to be with him. "Snake, gather your friends. We're picking up Mey-Rin and returning to the Manor." He stops at the threshold and turns back to face the man.
"Not all criminals share your morals, Lau. And not all children have criminals to protect them. That much I do know. That is why I cannot regret what I've done."
The earl strides out of the wretched hole of an establishment. It's funny Sebastian. Were you here, you wouldn't have been able to tell whether or not I had been lying.
Because not even I know the difference anymore.