Prompt.14: Chess

It was just an assignment.

Her Captain explained as much, filling in the gaps between the request from the Atlantic Branch of Shinigami, more specifically the British branch: the Shinigami Dispatch Society. Stuffy fellows they were, always did things by the book and did not use katanas. They had more unconventional means like pruners and lawn mowers (all new-fangled) for use in reaping human souls.

Rukia listened to it all with rapt attention, frowning when Ukitake's steady voice dropped off.

"But what does this all have to do with me, sir?" her confusion was great. For though she was a Lieutenant, ever since her botched mission to the living world in which she had met Ichigo, she had rarely been sent on any mission that didn't entail the Shinigami sub.

In the warm sunshine of the pleasant spring day, Ukitake cleared his throat several times, on the whole appeared slightly embarrassed if the high flush to his normally pale face was any indication and said uncomfortably. "Ah, well you see...ahem, the Shinigami asked for a female officer to carry out the duty."

Oh.

She realized she should've considered it an honor but found her brow puckering, trying to sort out the different details of the mission. "It's a mansion in the forest?"

"Countryside, yes. One, Earl Ciel Phantomhive has been marked for death for seventy years."

"So he's an old man then." she mumbled to herself, refocusing back to her Captain with more confusion. "How come the British Shinigami Department hasn't dealt with this before?"

"They gave very little explanation. If you're uncomfortable about traveling such a long distance, Rukia. I'm sure I can arrange-"

"No, no! I wouldn't dream of shirking on duty!" she said quickly, ashamed she had hesitated on accepting the assignment.

"Good then. I'll let the commander know your decision."

She put aside her trepidation, reassuring herself that the task seemed simple enough.

The details were handled a temporary gateway was linked and in no time at all she found the time for her departure was upon her. Everyone assured her that it was only a trust-building experience and she would be back in a day. Rukia listened to them all and smiled at her own nerves.

Only one day...it wasn't like it was going to be the rest of her undead lifetime.

How wrong she was.

...

William T. Spears was impatient. It was his duty (dreaded overtime) to greet the Shinigami sent by the Society in Japan, an emissary as it were. Ever since the tight-lipped spat over a hundred years before involving a Urahara Kisuke and a lower-ranked Shinigami from General Affairs, make that an affair best forgotten, communication between the Shinigami Dispatch Society and Soul Society had been exceedingly sparse.

Non-existent.

The only thing that betrayed his irritation, was the constant five-minute interval of pushing his glasses further up his thin straight nose. The Senkaimon shimmered into being at the eastern edge of the Dispatch grounds and William clicked his tongue, striding purposefully toward the figure stepping from the round shoji doors.

"Ten minutes late." he said disapprovingly, passing his sharp gaze over the slender boy-? dressed in billowing robes and had a katana slung through the sash around his waist. "Already I'm verging onto overtime by briefing you on the mission. What can Yamamoto be thinking!"

The boy - er- girl, it seemed, after looking around curiously, stood fully to attention and unsmilingly met his eye. "I apologize, sir." from the voice he immediately discerned a female gender.

"Why would they send a girl?"

"E-excuse me?"

"Oh- never mind. I tried to tell upper management it was a mistake in letting that buffoon Grell Sutcliff handle such a delicate matter-!" he fixed his glasses, furrowing his brow with a sigh. "I suppose you'll have to do. Now, you know the basic outline of the mission, correct?"

"Yes." she turned serious, her step falling in with his. The impracticality of the oriental robes seemed something Soul Society refused to give up. William was aware of the difference they made, he in his sharply pressed suit and she in her kimono and hakama.

"The order was for the reaping of Ciel Phantomhive's soul."

"Indeed. I must warn you ahead of time, ah - Rukia Kuchiki, that is your name?"

"Hai."

"Pardon the uncouthness. I am William T. Spears, supervisor of the Dispatch Management Division."

She didn't miss a beat, inclining her raven head respectfully. "K- Rukia Kuchiki, Lieutenant of Thirteenth Division."

William affected a grim quirk of his stiff unwilling mouth. "I'll start with the unknown perimeters Soul Society doesn't have. Phantomhive is a stubborn sort. He's been lingering in and off the land of death for over seventy years. This isn't an easy task and you must beware of-"

"You mean he's not alone? I-I thought Phantomhive was a restless spirit attached to a country manor house." she frowned thoughtfully; they were in sight of the main Shinigami building. William eyed her narrowly, realizing how very unprepared this Shinigami was. "No - ah, Phantomhive is very much alive. It is your duty to bargain for his soul."

"Bargain? I'm afraid I don't understand, Spears-san."

"Beware of the butler." William said flatly, angling toward the idling motorcar waiting in the long sloping drive. He knew Japan had its fair share of troublesome oni clans in the Sengoku era, with the main clans diminishing by the Keio era. Those, however, weren't as insidious as...Phantomhive's.

Kuchiki gave him a strange look but slipped into the backseat of the open car. He closed it after her like a gentleman would and took the driver's seat. "I will leave you outside the gates. You will enter alone and be done by five pm London time. At which point, I'll return for you. In the event that you ...fail to reappear, you'll be written off as a failure. Do you understand?" he slanted his yellow-green eyes into the center mirror, catching sight of the small, pale face of the Japanese Shinigami.

"Yes, I do."

He started the ignition, the old engine flared to sputtering life.

"Good. We'll be on our way then."

...

Rukia hadn't an idea of what to expect. Spears' confusion on her gender had been strange since her Captain had assured her the Shinigami Dispatch Society had requested a female officer. She assumed whoever this 'Grell Sutcliff' was, had made a mistake in the communications.

She shrugged off her unease and watched out the window as the rolling scenery gave way to thickets of green and tall trees. Spears was a silent sort, towering over her in a western-style suit and crisp haircut. His death scythe - the British version of the Zanpaku-to, hadn't been in evidence. But Rukia lightly touched her Sode no Shirayuki, relieved her katana was with her.

All too soon it seemed, the car was slowing down on the graveled road after taking a left off the main lane. Spears guided the car into a shadowed track, nosing the old-fashioned headlights to bounce along the overhang of trees and snaring spindly forms straight ahead.

"This is as close as I can get." he informed her, letting the car idle. Rukia half-nodded, sudden nervousness seizing her. "Alright." she unbuckled the strap-in contraption and squeezed the door handle, Spears voice making her pause.

"Rukia Kuchiki, do not forget to show your professionalism. You are representing Soul Society and the Shinigami Dispatch Society."

She nodded, pushing the door open, that was something she already knew.

William sighed, his gloved hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"...and be careful."

She nodded again.

...

The car backed up to a point where the road widened and Spears made a quarter turn, heading back the opposite way up the road. Rukia resisted looking back and approached the rusted iron gates half-devoured by the vines and foliage. The headlights of the car had illuminated the shadows, now with it gone, she was in deep gloom, prying at the damp creepers, finding a narrow slat in the metal posts to slip in. Dirt sifted onto her kimono and slid down her collar to stick unpleasantly to her skin.

She felt the thump-thump of her heart rate increasing as she felt a strange tugging on the center of her being, stumbling forcibly through the derelict gates to fall forward on...neatly trimmed grass? The oddity was heightened by the cheerful whistle coming from the other side of boxwood hedges across the spacious lawn. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off her kimono. Her eyes took in the sight of the Phantomhive manor rising ahead in old-fashioned splendor then flickered to the straw-hat moving from side to side.

She heard clipping sounds.

Cautiously moving across the open area, she gripped her Zanpaku-to, flipping it out and holding it low with deft skill. The straw hat moved around the corner of the hedges, a smooth-faced boy clad in checkered short pants and a rolled-up long-sleeve shirt blinked in surprise.

"Well, I'll be darned. Young Master's got a -"

Rukia didn't give the boy a chance to speak anymore. The hilt of her Zanpaku-to landed squarely on the boy's forehead, he blinked, eyes rolling up - crossing. "Oh - oh my..." Finny mumbled, "I-I feel so..."

"Be at peace." she said quickly, lifting her Zanpaku-to to see the Konso mark imprinted between the boy's wheat-colored bangs. "You've been here well past your time."

"That may be...but who's gonna...take ...care of..." The gardener's body slowly became enveloped with light, transforming into a Jigokucho which fluttered up to the sky. Somewhat displeased, she stepped around the boxwoods, her gaze falling on the tattered old clothing covering the skeletal form. Nearby a straw hat lay near a pair of shears. As she'd thought. Spears hadn't said there would be more than Phantomhive and the butler.

Shaking her head, she backtracked, deciding to keep her Zanpaku-to at the ready. Rukia failed to see the curtain on one of the upper floors part and gleaming red eyes peer out briefly.

Inside the dust-covered mansion, the Phantomhive butler smiled.

"Right on time."

...

She performed Konso on an older male wearing a spattered chef's apron who gnawed on a cigar and a red-haired maid whose body lay at the foot of the stairs. Rukia didn't think 'Mey-Rin' had been pushed, but rather tripped down the stairs as the shattered tea set told the story, lying several feet away from outstretched bony fingers. Rukia tread carefully around the body, peering at the gloom of the upper floor before deciding on a hallway she had seen from the main foyer.

From there, she went for a set of double doors, throwing them open as a boyish voice called:

"Sebastian! This tea is-"

Then the boy simply stopped speaking.

He was a boy - not an old man like she'd expected. Young. With a round face, high cheekbones, a mouth that could've been called sensual. He wore an eyepatch on the right side, the remaining eye was piercing, sapphire. His hair was trimmed short like a pageboy's, fringe framing his eye, a most unusual color of dark navy blue.

He wore a tailored suit of 19th century persuasion.

Rukia gazed at him as he her. This - she knew, had to be Earl Phantomhive.

"Who - what - what is the meaning of this!" Phantomhive stammered, setting his teacup down hard. They were in a large room filled with books. A library with one wall devoted to wall-to-ceiling tomes, a massive desk was front and center while a few stuffy chairs were situated around holding more piles of cracked leather books. "You are Ciel Phantomhive?" she asked, deciding to make sure. She had not seen the butler and possibly didn't want to.

The mission was to get in, get out and Phantomhive was the target.

"Yes."

She gave him that. He was young but wouldn't back down under her cold stare. Phantomhive sat straighter, a moment of his sapphire orb widening when she nodded and charged in, using shunpo at the last second to evade the lead ball he fired at her from a hidden heavy pistol, hopping atop the desk amid manila-colored papers and lifting her sword above her head and thumping it down against his porcelain skin.

Phantomhive froze, his eye wide, mouth falling open in shock - outrage or some combination thereof that offended his refined sensibilities rendering him speechless. Rukia held her sword in place for a moment longer, her focus never wavering. Eventually she lowered and saw to her chagrin...there wasn't a single glowing mark to be found.

Something Spears had said drifted through her mind.

"It is your duty to bargain for his soul."

"What..." she blinked and raised a hand, pressing it to his forehead, brushing aside navy bangs. His hair was soft, silky, skin warm unlike a ghost's. "You're still...alive!" she snapped in confusion. Spears had said so, but she had assumed the Shinigami supervisor wrong. Ciel Phantomhive had been on a death-list for seventy years yet hadn't aged. What was going on here?

"Of course he is." A resonant male voice came from the open doorway.

Phantomhive recovered, calling loudly around her, shoving aside her hand. "Don't touch me. Sebastian, what is the meaning of this insolent woman!"

"Hey! Watch your mouth, kid!"

"Kid!" The boy flared back at her.

The butler shook his head at both of them. "If you'll cease your childishness, master, Ms. Kuchiki, please come with me into the study where I think we will be more comfortable."

She wondered how he knew her name.

...

Disgruntled by the apparent difficulty of the task, she had slipped off the desk and trailed in the black-attired butler's wake, Phantomhive, not particularly happy to be left behind, scrambled after them, making sure to lengthen the stride of his short legs so he walked 'in front' of her. Rukia scowled at his back and was very tempted to add 'how her legs were longer than his' therefore she could walk faster.

But that was petty.

Inwardly she seethed, attempting to retain a calm, professional facade remembering what Spears had said. She would be 'professional' and calm even if she had to grit her teeth and be nice to a brat in order to do it. When they arrived at the study, the butler held the door open for Phantomhive, letting him walk in first and her a step behind.

"Thank you." she said stiffly, her English rusty.

The butler flashed her a mysterious (would-be) considered a sexy smile by anyone of the female population of Seireitei and closed the door. She surveyed the long open space of the study, reflecting it had probably been a nice room once, say when Mey-Rin the maid had been living. Ciel occupied one chair while a small table laid out with a chess set remained between him and an empty seat. She eyed it dubiously but he didn't offer.

"State your purpose for being here, woman. I haven't all day." The Lord of the manor demanded imperiously. Rukia scowled at the inferior position he was bestowing on her and began sternly. "I am under direct orders of the Shinigami Dispatch Society and from across the ocean, Soul Society, to pass judgment on you and reap your soul. It goes against living world coda for a human being to outstay his lifespan in the mortal world," she paused then went on for effect.

"Even if he runs the Funtom corporation from afar."

"And if I don't choose to adhere to your code?"

"Then- then I'll-" she despised the smug look dawning on the young boy's face.

"How about we settle this over a game of chess?"

She hesitated, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly.

Ciel raised a thin dark blue brow. "Are you afraid, Shinigami?"

"N-No!" she snapped and stalked forward, taking a seat across from him. Instantly she sank in the rotting velvet, clouds of dust arose from the molding cushions. Rukia fought off her grimace and fixated her gaze on Ciel Phantomhive. The butler remained an omnipresent somber figure in solid black, lingering in the background, ever ready to serve with an undying smile. The pair took some of the fight out of her, though that had seemed impossible.

Ciel with his unblemished youth and imperious manner made her feel as though she were the one intruding and not them in the realm of the living. His bones were meant to be dust. The thought was sobering and she watched him gesture elegantly, "you begin."

She finally turned her attention back to the board. The old-fashioned squares were bolder in color. Black and white and the pieces were without a speck of dust. Refusing to betray her nervousness. She had received the white pieces.

"What are the terms?" she asked tersely.

Ciel spread his hands out. "You win, I submit to your Konso. I win," his eye lingered on her coolly. "..and you become the Phantomhive maid."

Rukia swallowed hard, not liking the last part. "Fine."

Ciel nodded curtly, adding after a second of thought. "Do you know how to play Chess?"

This was where pride faltered. Her gaze slanted from his intense one. "No." she heard his sigh and for half an hour, Ciel proceeded to rattle off the basic outline of the rules. When he was nearly finished, the butler commented, clearly amused:

"Ah this reminds me of the time when you explained the rules to Ms. Elizabeth."

"Hmm. Quite." Ciel muttered in acknowledgement, not completely displeased with the recollection.

Sebastian could clearly see the board with his enhanced sight from across the dim room. The musty drapes were nearly drawn full quarter allowing only a slant of light in. "However I must say that Ms. Elizabeth was perhaps a more charming sort than Ms. Kuchiki."

"What did you say!" she snapped, her neck whipping fast toward the smirking butler.

"Sebastian, that is enough."Ciel said sternly. "You're disturbing my concentration."

"Apologies." but he didn't sound sincere.

"Go on," Ciel encouraged, slightly less demanding. "Make the first move."

...

Rukia had to admit, he was a much better player than she. Deliberating on moves for up to several minutes, scowling at the board, analyzing each move before finally advancing a pawn. She was aware of the time however and was growing increasingly antsy, remembering Spears' promise.

She had not come from Japan to play death or servitude to a supposed to be long-dead Earl and that awareness of the hour growing late caused her to be reckless, uncaring of where her pieces landed. Sheer blind luck steered her and soon...she had found that most of Phantomhive's pieces were knocked off the board. He was as surprised as she, frowning even harder and clutching his last horse pawn tightly in a small fist.

"Your play." she said generously, surveying the board in a kind of grim satisfaction.

Phantomhive took a shallow breath in and moved the pawn across the field.

...

The boy with the eyepatch captured the white queen.

"Checkmate."

Rukia wordlessly looked at the board and at her lost pieces and felt her heart plummet; how had this happened? Almost instantly it seemed a rush of blackness like the swooping of bird wings fluttered up behind her - around her. Sebastian Michaelis bent low, his voice a silky purr. "Your uniform, Rukia."

Her head swiveled, her eyes dropping to the frilled black and white bundle he offered in crisp white gloved hands.

"Chop, chop. There are many duties awaiting you."

"T-this can't be..." she found her voice. "I-I'm ..."

"The Phantomhive maid." Ciel spoke coldly, ringingly. Like a pouting, bored little boy, he had one arm propped on the left armrest, cradling his chin, with the other hand dangled the white queen.

"You lost. On your honor you agreed to the terms." Like butler like master or was it the other way around. Ciel's voice took on a dangerous silky quality. "Rescind that and you have none." She stared at the young boy who had the audacity to order death incarnate around like he...like he owned her. A shudder ran down her spine and Rukia attempted to suppress it, straightening her posture.

"Show me to my room."

...

She quickly found the Soul pager line was dead silent no matter how she waved it around the room, attempting to pick up the invisible lan signals. It was like they were in another dimension. The time read 6:59 PM. Almost two hours since Spears had said he would pick her up. Had he already left? Would he have waited in the gathering dusk before finally turning the car around and reporting to Soul Society that she was officially missing? The thought was useless and she soon set herself to task.

Dinner was a feat in itself.

She had thought that the larder consisted of inedible mummified victuals but she was wrong. The butler whipped up a western-style meal. Much simpler of course for the 'servants' she had to eat in the kitchen while Ciel dined alone in the impressive formal dining room. The Baronial aspects of his attitude were some she couldn't stand, however much they reminded her of the Kuchiki clan.

...

She had lost track of the time spent in the manor.

Every day it was the same.

Startle awake in an unfamiliar bed, snatch up her Zanpaku-to only to hear the jarring clang of a bell downstairs summoning her to the impatient 'young master's' side. She snarled imprecations under her breath but dressed hurriedly in the black and white dress with the heavily starched collar and ruffled apron.

Ciel gave her a caustic remark about tardiness which she pointedly ignored and hustled tea in. To her it seemed Sebastian never slept, was always the perfect debonair - she did not just think that smug asshole was - oh never mind. He was just too damned perfect. Like Ciel. But Ciel - 'the young master' was ...in a different way. The Phantomhive Noble had an almost eerie loveliness to his features, subtle refinement that was exemplary of her brother. His single eye was sharp, glittered with intelligence and pierced her to the core whenever she stared at him challengingly.

Servants were meant to be not heard or seen.

She deliberately broke those all.

So, yes, Ciel Phantomhive was to the emasculating point of beauty. It was an odd combination and a strange thought to have since he was her 'employer' that still rankled her. He knew it..making a point to remind her each and every day of her station as 'maid' even though she would receive no wages.

The non-verbal exchange battened her emotional hatches every day and though she scorned to accept the new facet of her 'servitude' soon came to the realization that staring matches with Phantomhive were the high-point of her day.

A few times she did find herself indulging in a disturbing thing.

She would watch whenever she was sure no one was looking, observing him over tea, reading a London newspaper (that the butler brought from who knows where) or studying expense reports from the overseas Funtom factory in Japan.

Sometimes she caught him watching her from the corner of her eye as well.

...

"Are you questioning my orders as Earl Phantomhive?"

"Why no, young master. Merely surprised is all." Sebastian said smoothly, toweling the Egyptian cotton bath accoutrement through the dark blue locks.

"Do you want me to stay outside the doors?"

"..no. That won't be necessary. The maid wouldn't think of harming me no matter how she may desire it. The Japanese have honor...where the Chinese do not." Ciel said perfunctorily, his thoughts surfacing on Lau and the mistakes that had caused him.

"You are a cruel master indeed." The butler smirked fondly, turning to gather up the freshly ironed dress shirt. Understanding the requisite cruelty in bending the proud Shinigami to helplessness. Rukia could pound at the bars of her cage all she wanted and no one was going to hear her pleas.

...

Sebastian had told her of the new order, half an hour before dinnertime.

She was to serve 'the young master' and attend him during the course of the meal.

It was annoying as hell. Rukia steeled her nerves and barely stopped from hurtling the priceless vase in the hallway to the floor. Ciel Phantomhive would stop at nothing to get under her skin. She paused in her brisk stride, to rub at the tight sleeves of her black dress.

Why did that thought make her get pleasurable chills?

...

To her surprise, he was very...quiet.

Undemanding instead of being the reverse at tea time. The British loved their tea with a drop of sweet. It wasn't so unlike the Japanese love for green tea that bothered her. Once she had dared to sip at the fresh black tea flavored with a hint of orange peel and found it more pleasant than the bitter green leaf. The spartan practice of Wabi was unknown outside of Japan so she knew better than to be shocked at western culture.

Gradually she very nearly relaxed, standing to the side, back to the wall.

The clink and scrape of the silverware could be a million miles away.

Well at least the illusion was there. Rukia was immersed in a recollection about one of the times when she outsmarted a vendor in the Rukongai, a smirk forming, remembering the man's florid face before she stomped it in with her bare feet.

She was startled out of her musings with the sound of her own name.

"Why are you smiling, Rukia?" The Earl sounded suspicious, pronouncing her name very easily as though he had a 'right' to speak to her so familiarly. Yobisute was terribly rude. Rukia refrained just barely from snapping that he add a -san to that, but made a very cheeky expression instead.

(Yobisute: leaving off honorific to someone's name, denoting either closeness or a lack of respect)

"What? Afraid of amusement at your expense?" she dared turn her gaze in his direction at the head of the long otherwise empty table. Her smirk widened when she noticed the spot of dark brown on his chin. Without knowing why exactly, she casually strolled forward, taking up a linen napkin square emblazoned with the Phantomhive coat of arms from the metal footed dish beside the crystal fruit bowls.

Ciel stared at her approach, jaw tightening, visible tensing in his narrow navy blue clad shoulders. "What're you-" a trace of panic laced his normally aloof, haughty tones. Rukia ignored the question and instead, invaded his personal space deliberately, taking the goopy spoon from his lax fingers, setting it aside and leaning closer with the napkin.

"You have a spot of treacle on your chin, your lordship." she said softly, dabbing at it lightly. Her proximity seemed to have a strange effect on the Earl. Ciel's lips parted and he nearly leaned into her touch - at least until he recollected himself and yelled at her to get away. Rukia retreated with shunpo speed, evading the desert dish flung at her. She made a break for the hallway, flinching with a muffled snicker at the sound of glass shattering against the swinging-shut panel.

His Lordship had a temper...make that the temper of a five year-old.

A few minutes later Sebastian's heels clicked rapidly from the hidden kitchen area to the connecting corridor. The butler frowned at her breathless state, asking, "what was that noise?"

"Your desert died." Rukia said flatly, unable to keep from grinning.

Sebastian seemed to absorb this for a moment, hearing the muffled cursing from inside the dining room. He too, adopted a slight smile. "Ah, young master. Don't worry, it has happened before."

She resisted asking if Ciel had lobbed desert dishes across the room at poor dead Mey-Rin.

...

"Was the desert displeasing, young master?"

Ciel stared unseeingly down the empty end of the table.

"It...was." he scowled aristocratically, subtly relieved the maid had been sent to tackle the monstrous pile of dishes in the kitchen rather than clean up the mess in the formal dining room. What the Earl sought to hide, he knew that devil of a butler, would attempt to pry from him.

"You added too much sugar." He drummed his fingertips on the solid cherrywood.

The butler watched him narrowly.

"It was much too sweet."

Sebastian hid his smirk. "I'll make note of that to change the recipe next time. I will attend you like always -"

"That won't be necessary." The Earl interrupted, fiddling with his napkin. "Send her around tomorrow."

...

"Again?" Rukia asked, her uniform sticky, sleeves rolled up past her elbows. The dishes had been murder on her hands, but had been scrubbed, rinsed and dried only to be stacked prodigiously on every available space. Sebastian glanced around the spotless kitchen then to the Shinigami standing in the middle of it.

"What young master wants, he receives."

"I gathered that." Rukia muttered dryly, fluffing out a kitchen towel; she eyed the butler narrowly when he went to examine Mikasa plates, turning it over in his white gloved hands to remark with a smile. "Excellent. Your competence exceeds the previous master of the kitchen."

"Baldroy, you mean."

"Aa. In fact," he set the plate down and closed the distance between them, taking the towel from her suddenly lax hands. "I suppose a Shinigami comes close to even reaching my level of skill." Sebastian towered over her as most did, but was slender rather than of menacing build. She found his eyes at that moment, hypnotic. A shade redder than humanly possible. Her heart skipped a beat and she tried to look away only to have two fingers capture her chin and lead her head back around.

"What are you?" she breathed.

He chuckled softly, sending chills up her spine.

"Who me? I'm just one hell of a butler."

She blinked and then scowled, swatting the smirking dark-haired male away. "Be serious! I'm not stupid enough to believe that!"

A little surprised but not entirely displeased, Sebastian withdrew, still smiling. "Indeed? I can see how you differ from the rest. Perhaps you were what this house needed. If you are so inclined, Rukia, to find out my secrets-"

"I will."

Sebastian's smile grew more pronounced, a hint of something decidedly dangerous curving it. "We shall see..."

That sounded like a challenge.

...six months later...

She nearly tripped carrying the tea set.

Ciel waited until the scowling foul-mouthed Shinigami was on the stairs, thumping down before resting his chin in the cup of a small hand. "Your tastes are ...interesting."

"You think me incapable of selecting a suitable maid?"

"No. On the contrary I wouldn't have expected any less."

The butler smiled devilishly, standing at the ever-ready a foot behind Ciel's chair.

"A diversion different than Mey-Rin, I believed you would appreciate a livelier sort."

Ciel snorted softly, rolling his one visible sapphire eye, he was not displeased at all though pretended to be so for the sake of propriety. When his parents killers had been discovered murdered in the seedy White Chapel district of London he had made a new contract - if it could be called that, with the Devil. He had wished...for everything to remain the same.

Elizabeth had married another, coerced by her mother.

Mey-Rin, Finny and Baldroy had aged like their human lifespans decreed...but he, Ciel Phantomhive remained the same as the day the new covenant was struck. Forever seventeen with the sharp wit and mind of an adult.

"Do you miss Ms. Elizabeth?"

"She was happy." Ciel said shortly, dismissively. "More than I ever could have made her."

"Aa."

Silence lapsed between the mismatched pair.

As much as the outsiders attempted to breach the space where the manor resided, they were unable to. Brute Shinigami strength or not. That had amused Sebastian for a while, monitoring the actions of Soul Society, friends of Rukia's, come to claim their little Shinigami back from the space of spring of 1893.

Rukia had lost the game.

Grell had kept his word in sending a fine 'young woman' for the proverbial slaughter, like a feisty lamb she was, had come to the Phantomhive manor expecting to leave. Now, he nor his master wished to let her go. Of the Earl's feelings on the matter there couldn't be any doubt. Rukia was a permanent member of the Phantomhive staff. Whether or not Soul Society wished it were otherwise. That line of thought reminded the butler of the very important fact that he 'owed' Grell a service for delivering Rukia Kuchiki, probably the overly flirtatious Shinigami would expect a 'date'. The butler sighed at the thought, reflecting on the nature of things he had to undertake for the sake of his young master's comfort.

Ciel's voice soon took him from his reverie. "Sebastian, you slipped an extra pawn onto my board. A Horse, didn't you?" The very piece he had used to win. The pawn that had appeared in his hand after she had captured all the rest.

"Why, my Lord, I would think you sound displeased. Though I cannot lie to you. It would have gone against my order and your command for anything else to have transpired the day Rukia Kuchiki came a calling." Sebastian's eyes closed momentarily, when they opened, a glimmer of demonic red glinted. "After all the Phantomhive household required the services of a new maid."

-Fin-

Disclaimer: don't own Kuroshitsuji not Bleach.

Timeframe: Kuroshitsuji anime first season AU, Bleach after the Fullbringer arc (ignoring the final arc)

AN: Finally got this out. ; - ; took me forever after writing En Passant for the Rukiax?collection (AiRuki had been meant for this prompt, until I decided Ciel and a chess set was too irresistible, so here you have it :)

No flames!

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