Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

UPDATE 11/19/12: CHANGED TITLE AND DESCRIPTION.

His free hand immediately went to the knife and tossed it to the floor. He would rather not have a soul or himself reaped by accident when they partake in such an intimate activity. She took notice of this but did not stop him, knowing that it would pose a danger.

She bit her lip in anticipation and he grinned at her behind those round rimmed glasses. His disguise was still there but she knew how to change that. Her hand went to his head and weaved her fingers into his rich, brunette locks; she ran her hand through his hair and, as if by magic, it transitioned from the dull brown into the blazing red that seemed to reflect itself by candlelight.

"You certainly prefer that, don't you?" He murmured, eyes drifting closed.

"It certainly suits you, Grell, much better than your other appearance. Only because I know who you are."

And then she removed his glasses, taking off his chain first, so that they wouldn't get damaged. They were set on the nightstand nearby. That sharp grin shown itself more prominently, for his teeth changed shape. At that, she smiled and yet fear was slightly building up with apprehension.

"Hm," he hummed quietly and he leaned in to steal a kiss.

But she did the unexpected and returned it with something that instantly lit a flame between them.

Her hand went to his length.

His eyes flew open. He was glad to opt not wearing anything went stepping out of the lavatory.

Hearts thudded in chests. The carnal desire for one another debunked their emotional needs and, upon realizing this, they knew that there can be more to this relationship than just words; it needed to be justified soon. His lips met hers, evoking a passion was laying dormant between the both of them. He groaned an approval when her hand wrapped around him; she sighed into their kiss when his hand went to her breast for a light squeeze.

Tongues clashed against one another, a rush of heat coursed through Angelina as she felt his knee press against the apex of her legs. Her breath hitched and he tore away his lips from hers to run his tongue to her neck. He grazed her jugular with his teeth, teasing her, threatening to tear her throat open, but he only nipped; it was still enough to pierce her skin and she hissed.

"Sorry," Grell uttered, but he felt another hand, one that wasn't slowly stroking him, press his head towards her skin; she was encouraging him to bite. He knew better and didn't, instead, he only sucked upon her porcelain skin to compensate for not digging his teeth into her.

It was satisfying enough for her but she disregarded his mouth when he rolled his knee towards her center more harder; the pressure was teasing her, she wanted more than just something pressing against her. She knew he wanted something more than her touching him with gentle strokes, while it brought him to full arousal the thought of his size excited her.

Her whisper came out,"Don't tease me."

He knew better than to disregard her statement, he could already feel how wet she was. He was drawing more of that liquid out as he continued to tease her. She was moving hips against him, going in a makeshift rhythm that was so broken, he knew she was going to beg for him sooner or later.

He shifted in his position, settling himself between her legs.

"Humans are always impatient," Grell breathed hotly against her neck. He felt her hand guide him to her entrance and he brought his hips closer to hers, just close enough to enter her. Much to his surprise, once he had slowly went in, her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him towards her, forcing him inside her rather quickly. The sudden sensation of being one caused both to moan, Grell pressed his head against the pillow as he brought his hands to both sides of her to gain balance.

"Grell!" She cried out, but her scream was muffled by the sound of thunder outside.

He understood that she didn't feel the need to take anything slowly; he was glad, he was equally impatient as her. Being so suddenly deep within her, he let out a loud groan of satisfaction.

Her hips rose higher, he ground his own against her, producing the most wonderful wave of pleasure to course through him. He began to move and she loosened her legs just a bit for him to have enough space to pull out just slightly. The friction was there, her arms went around his shoulders and her nails wracked through his back. The pain from her digging into his skin increased, and he hissed as he quickly established a rhythm of deep and purposeful thrusts.

He braced himself over her.

She continued that act with her nails, as retaliation he bit at her neck just enough, once more, to draw blood.

Angelina whined but he gave her a particularly harder thrust into her to occupy her mind.

She had never felt so alive, it had been a while and, at his mercy, she felt so invigorated. She now has his love, his acceptance of her, his promise of never departing her, that was what she truly needed. The fear of being alone had abated, she knew she found someone to rely upon, to know that she would be caught if she were to fall. The years of being lost, being denied of such a needed asset to her life, had driven her to insanity.

While he may not be able to produce a child with her, his entire being was all that she could ever want; she lived through some troubled times and now, as if God were to give her a reward for her troubles, she can finally have some compensation. She needed him in her life.

His shaft dragged over a sensitive spot when she slightly angled her hips. She let out a high moan, telling him to grind against her repeatedly in that particular way. She was almost getting to that pique, so close. She knew he was as well, for his thrusts were rapidly becoming erratic; his groans getting deeper, his teeth threatening to go further than just skin deep within her neck.

The room had become heavy with heat and their mingling scent. The bed creaked over their combined movements. The rain and thunder, while pounding against the roof and roaring outside, muffled it all but it was only between the two that they could hear their sounds of pleasure.

Grell could barely keep his thoughts collected, his eyes were closed, concentrating on sending her over the edge first; after all, he wanted to let her feel the rush first out of his own desire to see her in ecstasy. She was tightening around him with each passing second, her nails had suddenly stopped and now she was gripping him for dear life.

Oh, she was getting there.

His sucked away at the newly made wound upon her neck, the blood trickling onto his tongue. He lapped it hastily and then his mouth was torn away when her face had burrowed into his shoulder, her legs had wrapped around his hips like a vice.

"Grell," she finally breathed for what felt like an eternity. "Oh, Grell, please!"

She rocked along with him. It went on for quite a long period of time, her moans forcing her to gasp for air. As though she felt something snap within her, she reached her limit and, much to Grell's surprise, she fell silent with her breath getting caught up in her throat; however, the sound she would make was the last thing on his mind now, for that intimate part within her had suddenly clenched around him so deliciously.

He felt that rush overcome him as well, and she felt the effects within herself when a burst of warmth came coursing inside. She convulsed around his length, she had grown rigid in a euphoric phase that left her in a high that she had never encountered before.

They reached that crest for a few glorious moments before slowly, and reluctantly, coming down from it. Her grip upon him loosened considerably as he collapsed over her but minded to not crush her under his weight. His head rested upon her chest after slowly withdrawing from her and laying a bit lower upon her body; his ear was pressed against her chest, her heart was still racing but was slowly becoming steady.

The drops of rain was heard once more, their breaths being the only thing that they could communicate with. Her hand went to his hair and stroked his rich, red locks affectionately. Her tongue went to moisten her lips and, after a moment of silence, she spoke out his name quietly but he was too spent to reply. In the harsh noise of the pounding rain, they drifted to sleep at its symphonic beats.

Exhaustion coaxed them into a deep slumber, they were finally content to sleep in peace with one another.

-...-

The morning saw them upon the lengthy journey home. He had stolen a horse from a local tavern in the early hours, disguised of course, and brought the newly acquired animal to his lady's presence in the alley. He led the horse to her and aided her up into the saddle, letting her side side-saddle in a womanly way, before mounting the horse and positioning himself behind her.

It was old but had a slight liveliness to its steps, it was something nice to have so early.

His arms wrapped around her side to keep her secure as he clucked gently. The old horse whined and walked them out of the alley and quickly strode down the still-sleeping district of the poor.

Her head rested upon his shoulder, she was still tired from the night before but he had hastily awoken her before daybreak so that they may leave without trouble from the innkeeper nor other residents. She sighed and he supported her.

The morning fog did little to cover the clicks and clacks of the hooves as they went down every street. The trip home would have been faster but, shamefully, Grell had to admit he too was slightly fatigued and had no intention to remain on the alert for other Shinigami should they be traveling by the rooftops. He looked up, curious if there were any of his own kind traversing so early; it was the slums and more people died here than anywhere else in the city.

Much to his surprise, he heard the sound of tapping from a distance upon roof shingles. He stopped his horse, wanting to concentrate on the tapping, they were nearing him. He made his horse walk once more and he kept his eyes trained towards the sky but kept his head at level with the street.

A black blur sped over above the street, it was quick but his trained eyes knew what it was. He caught the tint of green and silver, it was a Shinigami making his rounds. His hair stood on end upon his skin when, so quickly, he watched the Shinigami leap down into an alley across from his side of the street.

He wished he didn't give his coat to cover Angelina, for he needed it; his uniform as a butler was similar to that of being a Dispatcher. His whole self was exposed. He bit his tongue and, out of panic, he kicked the flanks of his animal. The dead quiet street became full with the noises of his horse speeding and his woman waking up in alarm.

"Grell, what're you-"

"Quiet, we're being followed," he hissed, he couldn't confirm it to himself but he knew all to well the techniques of pursuing prey. He'd be damned if he were caught, especially with a human and, at best, being in the cohorts with her as Jack the Ripper. He knew that the Dispatchers have an idea on who the human half of the serial killer was but, should they find him with her to know he was the inhuman half, he would be subjected to a world of Hell.

He tightened the reins and kicked on, making sure that he had to gain enough ground from whoever was coming after them. Turn after turn, passed every sign and store, he brought his lady further through the city and, eventually to the outskirts. Unfortunately, the old horse was beginning to show its age; its nostrils flared and it grunted quite heavily as it tried to keep up with Grell's demands.

Out of a daring thought, he looked back and saw that his fears were now reality; he was being chased.

The black was showing itself in the fog, it was trained on its target, he saw it weave through many obstacles behind him. He knew why it was taking to the ground, the rooftops were becoming less and they were now entering the country where vast fields were open to them.

A mile away was a graveyard, at least that was what the milestone said.

He was drawn to go into it. He felt Angelina's hands gripping his forearm. She exclaimed,"You can't just go there, whoever is after us will get us!"

He ignored her as he breezed by the gates within a few minutes. "I know a shortcut!"

"That's what all men say!"

"You don't understand this!" He snapped. And then he heard a familiar laughter call out to him and a lantern a few feet away in the thick fog.

The horse began to canter, as it can no longer gallop, Grell knew it was at its limit. Their weight combined was enough to stress it. He eventually brought the horse to a stop in front of a cloaked figure that, to both of their horror and need, went by the name of Undertaker. The man was in the process of burying a body that morning and, having heard the commotion, had caught Grell's attention.

"What seems to be the problem?" Undertaker asked after digging his shovel to the ground and leaning against it, interested as to why they were hurrying so early in the morning. "Something's chasing you-?"

Grell dismounted and grabbed the undertaker by the collar rather aggressively and urgently. "Don't speak out the obvious! We need to be hidden and, should our pursuer approach, I beg of you to cover for us," he asked in earnest.

Undertaker stared at him, smile donning his face. Grell was disgusted by that. "Who might be the person chasing you?"

"We know not," Angelina replied,"but I would repay you by whatever means you need. Laughter is what you like-"

"We don't have time!" Grell's voice shook. If they could have seen him, Undertaker had lifted an eyebrow at Grell. The silver haired man shook his head and pointed at his wagon, it was situated near the grave with several coffins within it. He gave a half smile and a half disapproving frown. Immediately Grell knew the signal. He helped his lady off of the horse and then carried her into the wagon.

Undertaker quickly went over to them and draped a covering cloth over the wagon to conceal the contents. Angelina laid upon her back, squeezed between the flooring, the side, a coffin, and Grell above her; she looked at him apprehensively. She had never seen that look of panic across his face before. She swore she could feel heartbeat when he held his arm. He support himself above her but leaned against a coffin.

Under the white sheet, they both heard voices suddenly come into play.

"Morning to you, good sir," Undertaker's cheery voice greeted pleasantly. Grell looked at the side of the wagon and found a few cracks between the boards.

He peeked through and saw that the person pursuing them was, indeed, a Shinigami. To make matters more intense, he found that person to be none other than William T. Spears. It had been two years since he had seen him as he had taken leave so suddenly. His eyes widened and his breathing stopped.

"Good morning," replied William, it was rather cold. He adjusted his glasses. "I was wondering if you have seen two people that were riding upon this horse." He indicated towards the exhausted horse that Grell and Angelina had taken off on. "They are people of interest to me and I must seek them."

Undertaker shrugged,"Well, I'll tell you something. One is a person and another is a corpse, nothing to be suspicious of. Hm, however..." A pale hand went to stroke his cheek. "...it would be something of suspicion. For an explanation, it was my assistant; I asked of him to fetch the body of a woman from my shop as I had forgotten to load her. Go ahead, have a look-see in the grave, I just put her in the coffin. Open the lid if you like but I would like to say she is rather ghastly looking; a fire burned through her face."

William nodded. "...I suppose I would rather not, but I may ask, what of your assistant?"

"Left the minute he dropped the body in. He went off to find a grave marker so that I may remember where to place a tombstone. Nice lad, pure shame you can't see where he went. The fog is rather thick...can't even see my own horses from this distance, the wagon's there too."

William fixed his glasses once more upon his face. He seemed to be doubting Undertaker but, after a few moments, he accepted it. "Then I must be off now."

"Might I ask, sir, who were you seeking?" Undertaker inquired.

Immediately he answered,"Jack the Ripper of course, just like everyone."

"Bounty or Queen's lapdog?"

"Personal matters," William said slowly, glancing at the wagon; he turned and walked, disappearing into the fog. Undertaker quietly watched and, when he was assured that William had gone away after a few heart stopping moments, he uncovered the wagon. Grell was stiff as a board.

He knew it was me, he just knew. Jack the Ripper, he meant me. He wasn't telling Undertaker, he was telling me he knew.

"Up and out you go, you two," Undertaker rang his voice to them. Grell tried to compose himself and got out, then he aided Angelina. Her coat revealed her to Undertaker, he smiled. "Ah, now I recognize you, Madam Red." He snickered. "Afraid it was Earl Phantomhive?"

"What?" She asked. Grell caught that too.

"No, nothing, though I will give a warning about that boy that is your nephew," Undertaker began as he walked over to their horse. He gathered up the reins and led it to them. "Phantomhives are notorious for going after anyone, even the persecution of family members is quite common through the bloodline."

She timidly spoke,"I'm rather aware, young Ciel made me a suspect to his list but I'm pretty sure he is simply overlooking things."

"Even I myself have been put on lists many times but I have nothing to fear, I'm their informant after all. I say, perhaps being more careful should be your best bet to go through. You're quite lucky to have only that man, and not the boy, chasing you this dark day. No payments for this, if it were Phantomhive instead of the man I would have charged you, I do work in many ways-"

"You'd jeopardize others for laughs, how unsightly," Grell uttered as Angelina was placed upon her spot in the saddle. He reached out to him and offered to shake hands, Undertaker took it. "Besides that, you have my thanks."

"Hm, don't be asking for another favor. I have a soft spot for those willing to protect their loved ones," he admitted. He smiled warmly as Grell mounted the horse. "If you want direction to Madam's home, the aristocratic district can be made within minutes if you follow the posts down the way there. Quite a shortcut through this site..."

-...-

They finally arrived home after an hour or so. The fog had lifted and they could now see where they were.

The servants, worried, were at the front steps to see them. Grell got off, then Angelina was helped down. Almost immediately she was whisked away by her maids. Grel himself simply took himself to his private den and began to strip off his clothes in replacement for new slacks, dress shirt, and vest. He decided to not wear the bow around his neck as he felt it was constricting him.

His anxiety for the morning had risen. It brought a new awareness to him.

Shinigami were not meant to mingle with humans. For the most part, humans die. For the rest, empathy towards them would interfere with their duties. Obviously, Grell knows, Angelina has been interfering with his line of work but he could care less. Sure, her existence was manipulating deaths, he may as well be considered as a rouge Shinigami. He vowed to himself that he would prevent her from death but, with each passing day, she was growing closer to inevitable end.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he fixed his buttons.

To live the life, and lie, of a human butler for the sake of love for Angelina was favorable to him. Her love and passion, just recently realized and accepted, were as equal as his. He had grown soft for her. But then reality hit him, the thoughts and fears of this morning came into play.

He and his lady could run away and begin a new life. However, age would consumer her, leaving her brittle and unable to live on; he simply didn't have that power to give her eternal youth. Immortality is possible for her but time would takes its toll, she would suffer the effects, he would have to end some day. And if they were to live on their own, they would be pursued by Shinigami everywhere, wanting for Grell to pay for his crimes as Jack the Ripper and going through the process of being a Deserter.

There was simply no way for Angelina to live, he had to accept it. In a fit of rage he pounded his fist to the glass mirror, it shattered with shards falling to the ground. He found his hand to be bleeding from slicing his knuckles. He hissed in pain but, with a resolution, he stormed out of his room.

-...-

Angelina was hastily bathed. Her maid had dried her hair and had finished getting her new dress set for her for the day. She was in a pair of red robes, they were warming her up quite nicely.

"May I ask where you and Mr. Sutcliff were?" Her maid asked.

"Nowhere, we got a little lost," she said without leaving room for question. The maid simply nodded.

A few moments passed as the water was being drained. The maid was getting a corset out, she stated,"You look worried, Madam."

"I'm simply contemplating."

And she was.

Ironically, she was thinking about this too. She loved Grell. They would possibly run away but her thoughts on Ciel anchored her to her place. While the boy is dangerous to her, she thought of Grell's well-being. If they were to continue life together, both him and herself would not only face Ciel's looming threat but also that of the other Shinigamis in pursuit of him.

In a way, they are both in danger. She bit her lip. Love would always come at a price. If she were to live, Grell would have to fend off his fellow kind or evade them for the rest of their time; if he were to let her live, she would have to deal with Ciel. It was a common fact for them both that Ciel was on their trail, the fact Undertaker would provide clues, in a cryptic way, was enough for the dog to catch their scent.

He's a smart child, just like his father...

The thought of Vincent, the unrequited feelings towards him, were only forgotten because of Grell. Her life with him now had torn away her grief and replaced it something wonderful. The previous Phantomhive had taken something precious before, it was her silenced love, but now the new one now threatens to tear her away from her most current one.

...however, I'm not losing another one again.

Her resolution was to kill the boy and let Grell handle the rest from there.

"Madam?" The concerned maid tried to speak but the doors flung open. In came Grell, hand bleeding and a scowl upon his face.

"Out!" He demanded, the younger woman fled, dropping the corset to the ground. Angelina stood up from her seat before the bath. She had an inkling as to why he was there. Two minds think alike when they are so interwoven like theirs. He was within close range in an instant. "I have to kill you, end this now while we still can-"

"What? Grell, no!" She nearly shouted, her train of thought derailing at his suggestion. "What sort of...no, I want to live! I want to live with you!"

Grell's face contorted. "Angelina, love, if you live you will prove nothing but being a human; you'll age and suffer the effects."

"Then turn me into your kind-"

"That's not how it works! You can't do that!" He shook his head. "Listen, listen to me. The boy Ciel, he will come after you. At the same time, I will be persecuted, William from this morning proved it quite well as to how close they can get to me. Even if you do kill him, I would have an entire society coming after me. Would you want to live a life on the run?"

She retorted,"It's quite better than never having one-"

"It's irrational and would take years, maybe centuries, for them to forget my face and by then you would become frail and suffering quite more than you do now."

"So you can't grant me youth then?" She inquired. His bloodied hand went to her cheek, staining it; it was bleeding and leaking upon her robe, tainting that as well.

"Dear, I'm a god of death, not life, I forward it, not turn it back. If I could have the power to edit lives in my way, we would be living different lives," he said softly, his features matched his voice. He grew quiet and now both his hands were holding her head gently. His kissed her forehead. "Fate's cruel to us, I know, but there's nothing to stop it."

"Then...what if we just try. No harm in trying to defy destiny," she began.

"What is your proposal, Angelina?"

She closed her eyes. "If I can kill my nephew-"

"But you love the boy-" Her finger went to his lips, she felt her heart wretch at the thought of killing off the reminder of her past.

"No, now you listen...if I can kill my nephew then we will live together, we can try at living on our own; our lives would be difficult but it will be worth living, at least for me. Being fugitives to your kind then so be it, I know you love me as much." She heard him choke down a cry, they were both in denying of this situation. "But if I fail to kill him then you can kill me."

He looked at her in disbelief. "What is the change of heart towards the boy?"

"He'll take me away from you, in turn, I will lose my right to life and love; it's what I have left and I prefer to have them than nothing. Grell...if I..." She struggled to say the word, it was like poison. "...if I die, what will happen to you?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll be fine on my own." He flatly lied. If he were to conduct a mercy killing, that is to reap before the actual time of death, then he would be charged heavily by the Administration. He would rather live up to her expectations, out of love and out of a request prior to death. Consequences, to this degree, from his crimes so far won't give him the death penalty, only time to be his punishment but he had plenty of it to waste.

He took his bloodied hand to her chin and tipped it up to bring her lips to his to press lightly against each other. They parted but his thumb ran across her moistened lips, causing blood to be smeared across her bottom lip. Her tongue came out to lick his red wine, she smiled at him when she opened her eyes.

"How much longer do I have?" She whispered.

"Before winter, after the season when nobles begin to return to the country," he answered nearly inaudibly.

"I suppose I should live the best I can."

-...-

That night he went to the manor's library. He left Angelina to play the piano, he enjoys hearing her play every so often. When he had began to work with her, she played only solemn tunes but now, now with their love had been recognized, she had changed her genre completely. He loved the song, it reminded him so much of happier times.

His heart wretched and he sighed, he would have to commit treason at its most highest level. His calling as a playwright beckoned to fix this tragedy from being predictable to becoming utterly unseen. With Angelina's Cinematic Record in tow, he began to fade into the shadows, sending himself between worlds and into the Shinigami's world of existence.

The sound of the piano disappeared and was replaced with a deathly silence. The redness of the library changed to plane white walls of the offices. He found himself in William's office, a place he knew that, at the hour, William was still out reaping souls. He scoured the desk and, amazingly, found the pink pen tucked away in a drawer.

The pen would change lives with a single edit.

He flipped through her book and found the most current page. She was still playing the piano, his absence was unnoticed. Dabbing the pen to his tongue, he brought it to the words that were rapidly producing on the page and quickly wrote a sentence that he knew he would regret:

Angelina Durless forgets the deal she had made with her butler Grell Sutcliff. Her mind is free to determine the fate of her nephew when the time comes for confrontation.

And now her choice of actions will no longer be determined. He would leave it up to her, entirely, as to what their fates will be. He returned the pen to its proper place. He will uphold his end of the deal but she will have no recollection of what had taken place. This will be as far as he would go to manipulate her, but now he was no longer in control; he now gained back his play, a play that would write itself and be untraceable.

If he were to enjoy her, now and after her death, he would rather remember by her character, one of which whose motives and actions would drive her to the brink of insanity. To the brink of Jack the Ripper. He closed her book and began to dissolve into the darkness, returning to his temporary home with Angelina. He sent away the book and, in the comfort of his place, began to make his way to her parlor.

He found her playing, he smiled and cleared his voice. He began to sing along with her piece. She turned to look at him and he smiled at her.

"HEART of my heart, my life and light,
If you were lost what should I do?
I dare not let you from my sight,
Lest Death should fall in love with you."

A/N: Yes, slightly OOC but hey, I wanted to write a love story, ha ha. I enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have loved it as well.

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