A cup of tea sat steaming on the shining surface of the dark wooden desk which was so often covered with paperwork.

The owner of said desk and - in point of fact - of the entire manor house in which it resides, was looking, as per usual, with disdain upon the formerly mentioned pile of paperwork.

Nothing was out of order, and anyone who happened to pass by would be hard put to find anything amiss with the Phantomhive manor on that clear morning. Even the chef, usually one for causing trouble (and explosions), was quietly working as he should.

And yet there was one person in the household who - even on this seemingly perfect day - managed to feel uneasy.

The reason for his being so on edge was unclear, he had what one might call a 'foreboding feeling'. Now usually, if someone told you they had a 'sense of foreboding' you might dismiss it as simply them having run down their supply of a certain brand of tea leaves and therefore having an unfamiliar flavour in the morning, but when a certain unrivaled butler had such a feeling, you would do better to listen to him than not, as he does not drink tea (or, come to think of it, much else) and therefore has nothing so troubling to worry about.

One ought not forget, in all seriousness, that uneasiness wasn't a common affliction for the devilishly competent butler of the Phantomhive family, and that on the rare occasion that it did affect him, the problem was often solved with a large side-order of death and destruction.

As he set to the task of making supper, he flinched and, frowning, slowly started to work again. Five minutes later, however, he flinched again. This time, he knew something was wrong. In that second, he'd sensed something unsettling. An unfamiliar soul, somehow already in the Manor, and seemingly having appeared out of thin air.

There was something very strange about it though, as if...

The butler's eyes widened as he realised what he was sensing.

Turning off the heat, so as not to burn the meal, he set off at a run, hurrying towards where he had sensed that... thing.

Eyes glowing a demonic red, he skidded to stop himself outside the doorway which led to the cellar. He tried the door.

"Locked, hm?"

By now, it was unmistakable. The strange soul he had sensed was in the cellar, without a doubt - but now he could sense another, much older, soul. Not as old as his own but still with a good 2000 years behind it and not human.

He inserted the key in the lock, his face twitching with annoyance when it wouldn't turn.

The door shattered off its hinges and fell flat into the cold, dry air and stone of the cellar.

He sighed, knowing who would be responsible for replacing it.

Stepping over it into the room, the butler's first realisation was that there was a soft electric vibration eminating from behind the towering stack of barrels.

Even in the absence of strong light, the well-dressed demons eyes allowed him to pick out details that would be invisible to a human even in daylight.

Confident stride unaffected by anxiety and eyes glowing brilliantly, he approached the large blue box which had somehow materialised in the corner of the room.

"Hello?"

No answer...

"It is advisable that you exit the box immediately, I know you're in there. It is not customary to receive guests this late, and in the cellar, of all places."

Silence.

"I'm not known for my patience, you should know."

One of the narrow blue doors opened a crack and a mans poked his head out. He wasn't young looking, but one oughtn't say that he looked his age, as he most certainly was getting along well in terms of appearances.

"Ah, Victorian England?" he leaned back and shouted to someone else, "We're only a couple of hundred years out!"

Scottish?

"If you don't mind my asking, who are you and why are you yelling so loudly inside such a small box?"

"What year is this? Who're you?"

The butler was a little taken aback but didn't allow his hesitation to show.

"This is the year 1889 and I am Sebastian Michaelis, the butler to the house of Phantomhive."

"Right. Well we were aiming for 2017 so we'll be going now."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I'm the Doctor, and this is my Box. Nice to meet you! Goodbye!"

"We don't have a positive history with doctors, unfortunately."

He thought back to Madame Red, Rian Stoker and that awful 'Doc'. Of all of them the Campania had been the worst for him, even eliciting what might be compared to rarely heard praise from his master. The Doctor stepped out of his box, carefully pulling the door closed behind him.

"Well, I'm not like that, probably, I assure you I have humanities best interests in mind. And I'm leaving!"

Sebastian chuckled.

"I'm sure. Come, you must talk with my master and explain to us why you speak so cryptically."

"Ah, well the short answer would be no." His grey-green eyes widened a little.

Neither of the two stood taller than the other, but the menace in Sebastians icy gaze filled the room with a cold blackness. The Doctor backed into his box.

"Come and see my master, we can't have guests appearing at will from thin air."

The Doctor swallowed but stood up, turning a little and fumbling with the key to open the door.

"Why don't you let us leave?"

"Oh is there another one?" Smirking, the demon gently pushed on the door to open it and the Doctor attempted vainly to resist.

Sebastian's eyes widened, but then he turned his head sharply. That brat was calling for him.

"Such a pain. It appears I'm being called. Well, Doctor, I assure you that it would be in your best interests to either come with me to greet my master or...no...that's your only choice."

The Doctor had been thinking, and realised that the TARDIS didn't often materialise where she wasn't needed unless he had specifically asked her to. Perhaps it would be an exciting venture.

"Ok then."

The butler was a little taken aback at his sudden change of heart but quickly recovered.

"Your friend ought to come as well."

"Yes." He then turned his head and spoke back into the box, "Bill! We're stopping off here for a bit."

A few seconds later, an exciteable dark-skinned girl appeared in the doorframe. A curious pair of sparkling eyes glanced quickly around the room before settling on the butler, whose eyes had reverted to back to their slightly-more-human scarlet.

He blinked. And blinked again. What was she wearing?! The Doctor coughed.

"Bill, Sebastian. Sebastian, Bill."

Sebastian lowered his voice.

"Bill?"

The Doctor responded as quietly.

"Yes."

"That's not..."

"No. I strongly recommend not mentioning it though."

Bill (who had been bopping up and down impatiently) turned back to face the two men.

"Come on then, it's awful dark in here you know."

The Doctor carefully turned and locked the boxes doors. He always did so, as a necessary precaution.

[WRITING FROM HERE ON SHALL BE FROM BILL'S POV]

I followed the Doctor and that strange man up the stairs from what appeared to be the cellar. I had seemingly been the only person to notice the shattered wooden door as neither of the men had paid any mind.

It was odd, somehow, I got the feeling that the Doctor was really rather nervous, though he didn't show it and I couldn't think why.

The butler was smiling, as anyone would expect a servant to smile at guests. It had surpassed the realms of a perfect smile and looked practiced; false.

He led us up three flights of stairs, along a corridor and stopped outside a room, where he knocked politely on the door.

"We have some unexpected guests, My Lord."

A muffled voice called through from inside the room. It sounded like a child, perhaps a girl? No. The butler had called them 'My Lord'. A young boy then?

"Yes, My Lord."

The butler, still smiling, opened the door and held it for Bill and the Doctor to enter.

I walked in, following the Doctor.

The first thing I saw was a dark wooden desk, exquisitely carved and waxed. Two hands, each with a single ring, slowly lowered the fat wad of papers that obscured the readers face.

He spoke. "Who are these two, Sebastian? What are they doing here?"

He fully lowered the papers and gave the butler a sharp look. He looked only about 12, maybe 13, but really quite short for his age. His right eye was covered by a white patch which was tied up at the back of his head, but his visible eye was a bright, watery blue.

I wondered what had happened to his eye to cause it to need obscuring like that. Maybe something had injured him. I didn't want to think how such a terrible thing could've happened to such a young boy.

The butler, Sebastian - he said, bowed.

"I found them in the cellar, my Lord. I had quite some trouble getting them up here to see you. Also..."

He strode over to the young Lord and whispered something.

The boys eyes widened a little.

"Well in that case, Sebastian..."

There was something in the butler's smirk that made me shiver. Suddenly the deep hot red of his eyes became cold, riddled with intent.

"...Show them to their rooms. I will speak with them both later."

That deathly coldness immediately turned to surprise.

"My Lord?!"

"Do I need to repeat my orders, Sebastian?"

"No sir." He turned to us again. "Please, follow me."

We followed him along corridor after corridor. It was only as he turned to us and signalled towards the door that I noticed that perfect smile once again set on his face.

My eyes followed his signal, and I gasped involuntarily: the room was like nothing I had ever seen.

My eye was first drawn to the brightness of the sun as it streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminated the off-white curtains with their frilled trimmings; the grey-blue of the carpet contrasted against the smooth dark panels on walls.

There was a bed in the middle of the left wall as we walked in. Before I knew what was happening, the butler had announced that this was the Doctors room, ushered me out and shut the door.

Even though Sebastian was there, I suddenly felt really quite alone. The hallway was lit by a chandelier every three or four metres.

We began walking. I hoped I wouldn't be too far from the doctor, I mean, I've had some bad experiences with big, old houses like this.

"This one is your room."

I was pulled from my thoughts; realising I had been following behind him quite blindly.

Through the door, I noticed that it was similar to the Doctors, except it's carpet was navy blue, to match the sheets on the bed.

"Thanks."

"I will bring you more... appropriate...clothes shortly."

He bowed and walked out but just as he was about to shut the door I stopped him.

"Wait."

"Yes, miss?"

"Is everyone here, how do I say this. I rehearsed it - you know - just in case like. Uhhh...", I took a deep breath, realising how odd it would sound, "Everyone around here's human right? I know it seems a weird question but nobodys, like, an alien or anything?"

Sebastian smiled, seemingly I had amused him. Surprisingly, that didn't make me feel better.

"No. The servants and the master here are all human."

"Including you?"

He looked at me like he was thinking how to get around this situation. 'Why can't he just say something? Why doesn't he just say he's human even if it's a lie?'

"I'm not an what you might call an 'alien', no."

"That's a relief."

Before I could ask him if that meant he was human or not he was gone. I walked over and leant around the doorframe. He was gone, completely.

'That was odd." I wondered as I shut the door and sat down on the bed facing the window.

"What was odd?"

I jumped. The butler's smooth voice had come from behind me and I hadn't even heard him come in.

"I've procured some clothes. Please find me or the maid for any assistance if you need it."

"Why should I...what the?!?!!!!"

The dress was unlike anything I had ever seen. I had been shown pictures of Victorian England in school but never had I realised how real they were.

On top of the dress ( here's a reference)

was a contraption which looked decidedly dangerous. I recognised it from the pictures: a corset.

"No way am I wearing that!"

"I am afraid it is customary for women to wear it."

"No."

"Excuse me."

"I said no."

Sebastian's POV

There was something odd about this.

A man, clearly not human, appears randomly in a box containing him and his companion, Bill, a girl. This box is small, yet the man feels the need to crane his neck back and shout to someone who should be only a few feet away at the most.

Then there was the matter of his soul...

"Please attempt it. It would be unbecoming of you to..."

"You got any men's clothes?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, I don't really do dresses, do you have like trousers or something?"

A very strange pair indeed.

"If you will not wear anything else, I suppose we might. I will find something to suit."

I left. I knew I could find something quickly, and if I couldn't, I could always make her something.

I headed for my young lord's office, passing the guest room I had assigned to 'the Doctor'. His soul beat safely inside.

Then...

After a brief stop at my master's study to inform him that the guests were safely put up for the night, I attended to the other matter pressing on my mind.

I snuck down to the cellar, wondering how much trust the doctor had in his box. And that boxes lock. He seemed to think it impenetrable, though the entire thing looked to be made from wood. But then again, looks can be deceiving.

I pressed my hand to the door and - to my surprise - found that it wouldn't give. If this box was really made of wood, it out to have been easy.

That left one option.

Gritting my teeth in frustration, I walked out.

I would come back later and try again.

'Now, though, it's high time for afternoon tea. I should bring the guests down soon.' I told myself.

I ran to Bills room with a suitable outfit. To her, I had been gone only a few minutes.