NB: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

I've re-written this chapter because I didn't think Sebastian was badass enough in its first iteration. I hope I've rectified that. If you're a re-reader, let me know how you like the edits. If you're new, let me know what like or don't like.

Content warnings include violence and mild language. Do enjoy.

Sebastian paced. His long, purposeful strides would wear grooves into the hardwood floor if he didn't move soon. She'd been captured. No, he corrected himself, she allowed herself to be captured. She'd sent him away and left herself exposed so that they would come. And they always come. Sebastian had made a habit out of serving masters with vigilant enemies. Such masters were invariably determined, fierce, and infinitely more fun than garden variety contractors. And they tasted better. So, when Alexandra Nikolayevich, exorcist and magician extraordinaire, told him that she needed to gather information about the group of religious fanatics that served her family up as a ritual sacrifice, Sebastian simply nodded in that non-concerned way of his. When she told him that she'd be getting part of this information by seducing members of said group, he merely raised a perfectly arched eyebrow to register his mild surprise. It was when she told him that she needed to "confirm" the information she'd obtained and that he'd have to clear off while she left herself open to abduction that he voiced his objections.

"Master, this is terribly foolish. You cannot ask me to not protect you. I am supposed to be your bodyguard."

"No, you're supposed to be my demon, so do try to act like one and do what I ask you to do."

"You are aware that I need not follow any order which violates our contract. Endangering your life is a violation."

"What danger is there to my life? I have you. I just ask that you wait to save me until I have what I need."

He grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around, intending to convey in no uncertain terms how he felt about her so-called plan. Alexandra's eyes were drawn to the place where long pale fingers were wrapped around her elbow. "These are unusually dangerous people." She didn't hear him, remaining fixated on his hand, looking up only after he had understood her meaning. Take your hand off me. He dropped her arm with a heavy sigh. "Forgive me."

"I've explained before. We should maintain our physical distance unless we find ourselves in a situation which requires proximity." It wasn't spoken with forcefulness or anger, but gently, rather like one might address an uncomprehending child. She rubbed her forehead tiredly and closed her eyes. "Sebastian, this will doubtless come as a surprise to you, but you are a demon." A wink in his general direction, a brief smile before she looked away. "And you well know that I'm no uninitiated novice. I know you have the power to make humans want with all the destructive intensity of an inferno. But I've no intention of falling into that trap. Distractions are a luxury I cannot afford." And you would be so very distracting if I lower my defenses, she thought wearily.

"Of course." He said it politely enough, but indignation burned his insides. How dare you? It is too late for self-righteousness, is it not? She was behaving as though he was defiling her simply by being in her presence - as if his touch would somehow condemn her twice. Wasn't she the one who'd summoned him? Sebastian had perfected his understanding of human nature over lifetimes, and he knew with relative certainty that she wanted him in a manner not entirely becoming for an exorcist. And judging by the way she was avoiding looking at him now, she wanted him desperately. If only he could catch her with her defenses lowered, he'd have her limbs tangled up in her bed sheets, her hair a tousled mess, and her lips calling his name over and over as he demonstrated to her exactly how mistaken she was to think that she wielded the power in their relationship. She'd learn; Sebastian only pretended subservience. The image taking shape in his mind elicited a small smirk, but his tone retained its seriousness. "They have a great deal of magical power at their disposal. I am not sure you appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"I need to discover the source of that power. You're not afraid of a little magic, are you? I thought I had contracted a particularly powerful demon. I'm afraid I'll have to replace you if you are unable to perform." There it was—the playfulness in her tone, the challenge in her eyes, the way she knew how deeply possessive he was and the fact that she manipulated this possessiveness with such careless ease. I am going to thoroughly enjoy devouring your soul….and everything else, he thought as he wordlessly nodded his assent. You will yield to me. Everyone does.

"It would be imprudent to attack you again after I dispatched their compatriots so brutally." He was speaking, of course, of the night they formed their contract.

"Oh, they'll come. They want me eliminated. And that's why I need you to make yourself scarce for the next few weeks. There's no other way. I want them to think that I nullified our contract because I was filled with regret. They will have no trouble believing that I'd rather die than be condemned. I'd been such a dedicated servant of God, after all."

"So you want them to think that you've traded your life to get your soul back? It's impossible. Such things once lost can never be regained. I suppose you want them to think that you think you can re-claim your lost soul?"

"Well, it sounds positively absurd when you put it like that. The point is that it matters very little what they think. They can question my motivations until they've had their fill so long as they make a move. I want you to wait for them to do so."

"I've not yet heard an explicit command."

"Nor will you. Despite what you think, I am acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. A command will limit you. If I am incapacitated, I'd still like you to come for me." She looked at him reassuringly. "I'll call for you. If I don't call for you, then do what you will."

And so two weeks later, he paced the library waiting for the telltale prick of heat on the back of his left hand. Her call should have come hours ago, and waiting around made him feel like a tightly coiled spring likely to snap at any moment. This was unforgivably foolish of you, master. He stopped pacing and caught her perfume of jasmine and hyacinth. You gave me leave to do what I will. Moving at long last and tracking her by scent, he followed her through the city with supernatural swiftness.

He was led to the stone cellar of a bookstore in the old city. It was a crumbling building whose walls collected far too much moisture. Mold blossomed along the stones, looking like patches of tiny black and green flowers growing against a sunless sky. Sebastian carefully looked through the grime-covered windows to plan his attack, but there was no one in the cellar except his master and one other man. Alexandra was bound to a wooden chair, her arms behind her back and her feet tied to its legs. She was gagged. The man loomed over her, talking at her. He seemed to be teetering with barely constrained excitement. Sebastian listened, memorizing his words. Alexandra would never forgive him if he interrupted her just as she was receiving her precious information.

"Alex Nikolayevich. Tricky little bitch, aren't you? But you're not so untouchable without your protector. Did you go running back to that God of yours? Is that why your bodyguard isn't here? Who'll save you now? The master is coming for you." The man grabbed her chin aggressively, fingers digging into her jaw, but she said nothing. There was no protesting glare, no defiant gesture of any kind. In fact, her eyes were barely open. Foolish. Sebastian mentally scolded her, but he listened on. "He's going to take his time. You'll beg for death." The man leered at Alexandra and violently jerked her head back by grabbing a handful of long curls. Sebastian's hands had curled involuntarily into tense fists, but still he waited. The captor pulled out a small knife, a smattering of silver that seemed out of place in such dank surroundings. He slid it under her gag and the cloth was cut cleanly away. "Now, your Grace, on your knees like a pious little girl." The knife was at Alexandra's neck now, the man's other hand pulling at the zipper of his pants. She was still unresponsive. Sebastian broke the window with his gloved fist and swooped in, landing cat-like on the cellar floor and appearing at his master's side almost instantaneously. Her captor had not yet fully unzipped his pants when he felt his own knife being plunged into his chest. The man looked down, wondering what had happened, and then he saw that his arm had been bent at an unnatural angle and that there were long, gloved fingers wrapped around his wrist. He looked back up, frozen in terror at the malice dripping from Sebastian's smile.

"Please don't touch my master." Sebastian's tone was light, cheerful even. The man growled angrily, but Sebastian simply tutted and pulled the knife out of the man's chest, sliding it smoothly across his throat. He discarded it without cermony or comment. It clanged prettily as it hit the stone floor, followed immediately by the crumbling sound of a falling corpse. Stepping over the dead body casually, he turned his attention to Alexandra. "Master?" He kneeled in front of her and lifted her chin gently with a finger. Her eyes were glazed and she was making barely audible noises. He shook her gently. "Master?" Nothing. The ropes binding her hands and feet unraveled themselves with a quick nod, and she fell forward into his arms. He sat back, cradling her carefully, and then he started checking for injuries. Apart from slight rope burn, there wasn't a scratch.

"Ghn." Her mouth moved, but the words issuing from it were nothing more than disoriented grunts. He held her head steady. She was unusually warm, even through his gloves. He forced open an eyelid and saw that her pupils were dialated and that the whites looked disturbingly pink. Her pulse was slow, far too slow. Poisoned.

"Forgive me. I'm doing what I must." He pressed his lips to hers, barely registering their softness before using his long tongue to lick her lips, tongue, teeth, anything that would give some indication of the nature of the poison coursing through her bloodstream. She did not resist. There was a very familiar bitter note amongst the warm moistness. Opiates. How utterly predictable, and how convenient. Short work, this. Sebastian sighed dramatically, and when he eyed her again, he smiled roguishly. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid that you're going to enjoy this. Immensely." With that, he sank his teeth into the base of her neck. Demons are not vampiric; they do not need blood to live, nor do they particularly enjoy the taste of it, but like vampires their teeth are sharp when necessary and they have an uncanny ability to stir desires with their touch. They are magical, and so even though Sebastian had never filtered morphine from a human's bloodstream before (and thought the idea rather silly), he was nevertheless certain of success. He simply had to bend her body to his will and it would allow him to draw the drug out like venom from a snake bite. Sebastian felt Alexandra's heart flutter as he worked. He supposed that he could have achieved the same results by being less tactile, but he saw no reason to change methods now. He smiled as her heart continued to race. I warned you. She inhaled suddenly. Even at her most stubborn she could not deny the expression of pleasure in that moan. I could have her in any manner I choose right now, and she'd submit unhesitatingly, willingly. He closed his eyes against the indelicate thoughts that threatened to undo his meticulously maintained bodyguard's aesthetic.

Sebastian held her tight to his chest as he carried her home, absconding from the cellar like black mist and appearing merely minutes later in the foyer. Although lucid now and out of immediate danger, she was still demonstrably tired and not quite herself. She had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and buried her face in his neck. He was comfortingly warm, and she relaxed a bit, easing into his arms, allowing this warmth to wash over her. The cellar had been quite cold. Her lips were at his ear. "Thank you." He nodded silently and pulled her closer. She responded by tightening her arms and burrowing into him more deeply, inhaling his scent. Where is that physical distance you're so determined to maintain now, master? After bringing her upstairs, he laid her on the sofa in the drawing room. Her arm lingered around his neck longer than necessary, but Sebastian removed it dutifully and placed it gently on her chest. He checked her pulse and pupils once more before moving across the room to maintain his vigil.

He watched her sleep. She rarely slept so soundly, and as he indulged in watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, he smiled softly. She had stretched herself out luxuriously on the black leather sofa. It had been a long day. Sebastian sat perfectly still, an elegant specter amongst the shadows. Hours passed uneventfully. Night fell and the furnishings took on sinister shapes as the moonlight filtered through the high, mullioned windows. He continued looking across the room at his two years' master. He'd known his share of contractors. Some were beautiful, some were noble, most were interesting, and ever so often he'd been contracted to someone for whom he felt something more than obligation. But he'd never been contracted to someone as powerful as Alexandra Nikolayevich. She was an exorcist; she'd driven dozens of his kind back to Hell without hesitation. She had been a ruthlessly efficient agent of God. And when served up as a sacrifice by the enemies of the Lord whom she served so diligently, her pleas for help fell upon His deaf ears. Appeals for angelic protection having failed, she'd solicited help from a demon. He wondered if it had been momentary weakness on her part. Regret might have plagued her since the day the covenant was formed. Humans are so fascinating, he thought. Even beaten and broken, they'll rise from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix, more resplendent than ever before. He'd seen this ebb and flow play out over millennia. Alexandra was one of the many who craved revenge and engaged his services. But she was different. And he was intrigued. Her magical power coupled with a single-minded obsession made her a very unique, if at times frustrating, master.

She shivered and pulled her arms tighter around her chest as if she felt his thoughts. Sebastian rose quietly, removed his heavy woolen overcoat and draped it over her body. He stood over her still form, admiring the curve of her hips and the way her full lips were parted seductively in her sleep. He raised a gloved hand, fingers curled inward, and brushed away a strand of ebony hair that had been caught in her eyelashes. Eyelids fluttered gently open and she woke, brown eyes still heavy with sleep. She inhaled deeply and stretched her arms over her head.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked huskily, sitting up and placing his coat neatly over the sofa's arm. It smelled of sandalwood and sin and a small shudder of desire worked its way up her spine. He sank down on the sofa next to her, seemingly determined to capitalize on this feeling.

"Six hours. I would have woken you, master, but you looked so peaceful. I must admit, I rather enjoyed the novelty of it." He grinned, and the tiniest of white fangs flashed against disarmingly pink lips. She knew that he wanted her; it was a predictable side effect of their contract, an expression of a demon's natural possessiveness. He'd been pursuing that particular variety of ownership since the beginning, but she wasn't an ordinary contractor, and so she knew that physical intimacy with a demon carried meaning that was often lost on unwitting prey. To be marked by Sebastian in such a way was to consummate his total possession. She could not give him everything, she reasoned. Some things are sacrosanct. Alexandra closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. He was proving to be the worst kind of trouble, in every possible way.

"Shut up. And stop calling me master. You're supposed to be my bodyguard not my butler, remember? It's politically incorrect to have a butler these days."

"Yes, of course." Sebastian moved across the room to the bar. He poured coffee into a ceramic mug and added a large measure of cream and sugar. He sat down on the couch and handed it to her.

"You're a saint," Alexandra said with a mischievous smile on her lips. He groaned; he hated her horrid puns. She sipped the coffee. It was fresh; he'd made it while she slept. "Always above and beyond the call of duty...how is it that I landed the most domesticated demon in Hell?" She arched a playful eyebrow in his direction.

"Our contract stipulates that I assist you in achieving your revenge and that I protect your life along the way. Surely, providing some stimulation for said quest lies well within the bounds of my duty." His crimson eyes were set alight for the briefest of instances. She didn't miss the double entendre. He didn't miss the want in her gaze. Discipline was fighting a losing battle with desire there; he felt the tension as if it were his own. Preternatural hearing caught the slight increase in her heart rate and he leaned in, allowing his breath to fan her face for a minute as he removed the coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the end table. She seemed rooted to the spot. He gently pressed their lips together. Sebastian wanted to seduce her, to provide an indication that he'd be willing to fulfill her every need if she'd ask. He could certainly take what he wanted, and will her to enjoy the taking, but he had discovered that masters who give themselves up are far more satisfying, both in flesh and in soul. And so he played at seduction; he never expected her to respond. She'd been resistant thus far. But respond she did, taking his lips between hers and tugging at them gently. He smiled against her mouth. This was much better than anticipated. Her hands pressed lightly against his chest and his own worked their way up her sides and wrapped around her, drawing her close. Before she realized, she was stretched out again on the sofa, skilled hands and fingers working feverishly against her clothes. Alexandra typically remained so distant that she bristled even at the slightest accidental contact between them. Having her so unguarded was a heady sensation, and Sebastian intended to savor every tremor in her body until she fell apart spectacularly under his touch. He worked a hand under her blouse, testing the limits, and finding none he crooked his other hand under a knee and lifted her leg. It was then that she came again to her senses. She pushed him until both were upright, hands remaining on his chest, fingers circling in nervous spirals on his shirt. She was slightly out of breath. "Stop...Please stop."

"I would never presume to touch you, master," he said smoothly, "but I saw invitation in your eyes. You betrayed yourself, did you not?" There was neither apology nor accusation in his voice, but if she'd listened carefully, she'd have heard finely controlled frustration. He'd waited two years, carefully cultivating her soul, crafting its taste to very discerning preferences, and while he was sure the feast would be worth each agonizing moment of wait, the fact that he could not distract his hunger by tasting of her flesh was endlessly exasperating. He was a demon, after all; not a humanitarian. And she belonged to him anyway.

"Yes, you marked it well. I did want….No. I do….want….you." Downcast eyes remained averted. To him she looked ashamed of this confession. He felt his anger rising, but realized that there was reservation in her tone that was uncharacteristic. In fact, she'd never been so conflicted. She looked up at him with brows furrowed and pain etched in the planes of her face. Sighing softly, he removed her hands from his chest. "I shouldn't have acted on my desire. I can't get carried away, Sebastian. We're bound. But I have too much to do to get caught up in tangential affairs. Besides, you're an illusion and I be-"

"-you belong to someone else. Yes, I know. I'm only a means to avenge him. You've made that quite clear." He would not know where those words came from, or what he hoped to gain by voicing them. He'd likely have said that he was exhausted and frustrated, and consequently, not at all himself.

"Seb-" He stood abruptly and walked out of the room. In the wake of the night's events, Alexandra couldn't help but be flattered by his jealousy and staggered by his sentimentality. She did not buy into popular opinion; she knew that demons did, in fact, feel. Their feelings were muted, mere echoes of their human counterparts, dulled by the desensitizing ravages of time, to be sure, but that these feelings existed was never in doubt. She shook her head. She was in no shape to piece together his feelings when her own were so muddled. She felt something for him; of that she was certain. Demons were consistent fixtures in her professional life, and while they could all be devastatingly attractive and charming, Sebastian bore a sadness that was almost palpable. It makes him almost human, she thought ironically. It was evident in the way he had provided his own contractual name, as though the words 'Sebastian Michaelis' were the key to a mystery contained in that lithe body, hidden in the depths of those rhinestone eyes. She wondered about the master who'd first given him that name. Oftentimes, Alexandra forgot that it was the demon playing the role of Sebastian rather than vice-versa. He's in so much pain. What could have happened to him? They were alike, she realized, more than either would care to admit. Relief flooded in. For a moment she considered the possibility of having real feelings for a demon. But this was most definitely not the case. Her attachment was nothing more than a product of his attractive shell coupled with an emotional resonance. Having resolved her own feelings, she sought him out in hopes that she might resolve his. An exorcist, after all, is in the business of understanding the ways demons work.

He was in the library, just as she expected. He had arranged himself rather regally, facing away from the entrance and gazing into the fireplace. The room was completely dark except from the soft glow of dancing flames in the grate. She walked resolutely to his chair and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Reaching up without turning his head, he squeezed it to convey attentiveness. Angry or not, she was still his master, and he was nothing if not dutiful. She walked around him, sinking to the floor and settling a shaky hand on his knee. The flames were reflected in his eyes, causing them to flicker in shades of orange and red. She inhaled sharply. I bet even angels envy his beauty. He smiled knowingly, fully aware of the effect he sometimes had upon humans. Perhaps it was her determination to resist that intrigued him so much. "Sebastian, what we're feeling is to be expected, but we both know that it's not real or meaningful. We're drawn to each other because of the contract, yes, but also because we share the same volatility. Like oxygen and sparks….when they meet, one element is consumed, yes, but all else is lost in conflagration. And like that fire, we'll burn everything if we don't check our desires."

"How very poetic." He said it quietly, but it landed forcefully, effecting a shocked silence on her part. "But you'll forgive me if I don't share your humanly concern for everything….or anything at all. You forget that I'm no besotted human lover you can keep at arm's length to save your own conscience. Your husband is dead, and your pretense of fidelity is a farce. You are already mine, whether that is meaningful enough for you or not. You would do well to remember that." Alexandra's shoulder blade blazed with the heat from the seal of their covenant. She was his. None of her clever machinations would change that. The carnelian orbs fixed her with much more than lust; anger and possessiveness were waging war behind the cool mask of his face, and she was rather frightened of him now. The world-weariness and sadness which had been so alluring earlier dissipated. She was indeed manipulating him, and he'd known all the while. She'd used his unceasing hunger and attraction to her power, but always from a safe distance. Surrendering to temptation, even temporarily, might have pushed him too far. "You are fortunate, my dear master, that I do not claim my due. Exorcist or no, you cannot repel me if we've made a covenant." She nodded dumbly, knowing how very true those words were, but making no move to resume their earlier physical intimacy. She only squeezed his knee as she had his shoulder, hoping that the gesture would be interpreted as a promise of future gratification of a different sort.

"I really am sorry. I know you must be frustrated." Her voice was steady, but Sebastian could see a pearly tear clinging to the corner of her lashes, although he had no clue why she'd be so distraught. Nevertheless, his anger rolled off him in waves. She'd displayed considerable weakness tonight, and while it wasn't the satisfaction he wanted, he knew it would add a richer resonance to the flavor of her soul. He would never be mistaken for a patient man, but he was most certainly a meticulous one. "I learned something that might prove to be a catharsis….for the both of us," she said, measuring each syllable carefully, lest he be provoked further. He looked inquiringly at her. There was a triumphant gleam in her eye, and a ghost of a smile danced on her lips. "Rasputin is alive. He's the source of their magical power."

"That's why you were left so under-protected." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, they assumed that I'd be completely incapacitated by the morphine, and so they foolishly left me there to summon him, knowing that he would want to finish me personally."

"You were completely incapacitated. Again, consider yourself fortunate. Any other demon would have let you die without being given an explicit order to save your life."

"And any other demon would have taken advantage of me when he brought me home in such a state." He was startled into silence. "You mistake my trust in your civility for my expectation of it. That's a lack of precision not easily forgiven." They remained still for a long time, each considering the strangeness of their relationship. Two years had passed, two years that had inched by at a snail's pace as she gathered information about those responsible for her shattered life. Sebastian had been her constant companion during that time. He'd been her trusted partner as she navigated through blood-soaked back alleys and duplicitous informants. She trusted him with her life, but he could not do so much as take her arm if she wasn't in immediate danger. He hated the bald hypocrisy of it-to think she'd refuse to remit her body when her soul was already in his possession. She hated the fact that he'd not attempted to take by force what she'd denied him time and again. If he'd done so, she'd feel justified in enforcing their physical distance. If he'd done so, she would know without a doubt that he was evil. But she could take comfort in neither of these sentiments, and that only made Alexandra feel confused and antagonistic. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, speaking softly to him afterwards and keeping her tone even so that she did not betray again how her thoughts lingered on him. "Anyway, we have a target now. And I think he might be quite the diversion."

"Indeed he might, master." Sebastian's velvet voice was edged with danger and excitement. He'd known of Rasputin's existence, of course, but Alexandra needed to work it out for herself, so he allowed her the agency to do so. But now the time had come to make the kill, and he would relish watching such a powerful magician crumble under his fingers. And then, he'd have her soul and there would be no need to worry over the trifle of her body. He returned her smile, anticipation creeping across his lips seductively.

"And Sebastian…." Alexandra's voice resumed its customary lilt as she got to her feet, once again placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder while walking past.

"Yes?"

"Stop calling me master."