Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Hellsing or Kuroshitsuji, and frankly I'd be scared to. That's a lot of power to wield XD

Timeline: You'll know when this begins as soon as I do.

~Happy Reading!

Chapter 1: The Summons

The envelope was pristine in the early morning light. The crimson seal stood out like a blood spatter against the ivory surface, giving the royal insignia a morbid air. Abraham sighed as he contemplated the crisp letter set primly on his desk, his pleasant day gone before it had truly begun.

Letters from the Queen had very quickly become something to be dreaded as of late. Their contents were either invitations to decadent balls or a request to investigate things of a… disturbing nature. The disturbing incidents Abraham was more than capable of putting up with, unhappy as they were, but the balls? He cringed. He did not enjoy hours of useless frivolities while being forced to maintain a courteous demeanor, dancing around the back-handed remarks, the condescending looks, and the game of advancement in social standing that the nobles so loved to play.

The only reason he put up with the nauseating affairs was because he needed allies. Allies with power and influence, able to help him gain resources or to be a resource to draw from. The Queen knew this as well, and so sent him invitations to help him along. It had not worked thus far. Oh, he had contacts here and there, but no real staunch support. The upperclassmen simply could not stand him. In their eyes he was an unknown element, lesser than, a commoner who had, by some short-lived stroke of luck, gained the Queen's favor. At best, he was an amusement; at worst, a pebble in a shoe.

A firm rap on his office door roused Abraham from his thoughts. "Enter."

A butler stepped in with a tray of breakfast in his hands. Abraham greeted the butler absentmindedly as he reached for his letter opener. The envelope was opened, letter extricated, and a frown furrowed Abraham's face. The butler set the tray to the side and addressed Abraham.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Abraham did not respond, but his face slackened in surprise as his eyes scanned the letter.

"Sir? Is everything alright?"

Abraham blinked as the butler's words broke through his concentration. He threw a glance at the great clock standing against a wall of his office. The time read 9:30 a.m.

"Yes, everything is fine. It would seem that I need a carriage prepared by eleven o'clock. I'm to have lunch with a certain noble of high standing." The corners of Abraham's mouth crinkled in amusement as the butler started and whipped his head about to see the clock. The butlers had an hour and a half to prepare a horse and carriage, help his master through the morning routine, have him properly dressed, and travel to wherever they were to meet. Recovering himself as he turned back to Abraham, the butler bowed.

"I shall see to the preparations straight away, sir. Who and where are you meeting?"

"The Earl of Phantomhive at the Phantomhive Estate." The butler blinked, the only outward sign of his inner distress, for it would take the carriage a good forty minutes to travel to that estate and that was in fair weather. It had rained in the wee hours before dawn and the roads were in a deplorable state…

"Alucard will be accompanying me as well." Abraham added with a note of false cheer, cutting across whatever else the butler was worrying about. The butler went white as a sheet.

Earl Ciel Phantomhive sighed and tossed the letter he had been reading onto his desk. So, the Queen had arranged a lunch date for him, eh? With his play date being a man whom he had heard only whispers of. Abraham Van Hellsing.

A foreigner, if the name was anything to go by. Those whispers also said that he was not born into wealth, but that wealth was gained in most part by the Queen's favor. That she sent him on special missions that Scotland Yard wasn't authorized (or more likely, too incompetent) to handle. The faintest whispers said that these incidents were of an occult nature.

That final ghost of a rumor, dismissed and ridiculed as it was, grated on Ciel's nerves the most. He was the Queen's Watchdog, the scourge of London's underworld, and the occult had quite the black nest within it. He felt somewhat resentful (not jealous, no jealousy) of the fact that someone (some commoner no less!) was encroaching on his territory, catching his prey.

"Sebastian." Ciel's voice cuts through the still air of the empty office.

"Young Master." A butler clothed in black acknowledged, stepping forth from Nowhere.

Ciel plucked the letter up from the desk and motioned for Sebastian to take it.

"The Queen has declared we entertain a certain Abraham Van Hellsing of the Hellsing Organization. We are to be… "allies" in a case she has delegated to us both." Ciel said, his tone unreadable as he watched his butler's expression. Sebastian's cool gaze swept across the refined calligraphy, and then landed on his master.

"The Hellsing Organization?" Sebastian inquired, a single eyebrow raised speculatively, "I don't recall ever hearing of such an organization… I wonder what this Van Hellsing intends to bring to demonstrate his work?"

Ciel scoffed "I don't much care. If Mr. Van Hellsing proves to be a rat rather than an ally, we will be obligated to exterminate him. It wouldn't do for the Queen's Watchdog to allow someone undeserving to take advantage of Her Majesty's charity."

"No, indeed not," Sebastian mused, "However, what if he proves himself to be worthy of the Queen's attentions? Or, dare I say it, an ally to you?"

Ciel aimed a dark look at his butler.

"Oh my, don't tell me you would be…jealous? Like a little dog?" Sebastian all but purred, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. Ciel swallowed a scathing retort, and allowed an innocent smile to brighten his features.

"Should that come to pass, Sebastian, I hope that Mr. Van Hellsing enjoys playing games."

Most people would have thought the small smile adorning Sebastian's face to be courteous and polite. Ciel knew better, and his innocent grin shifted to match Sebastian's pleased, predatory smirk.

"Be sure to grant him with the best service the Phantomhive Estate can offer, Sebastian." The butler bowed low, still smirking, and if Ciel noticed a wicked gleam of crimson in Sebastian's brown eyes he didn't comment on it.

"Yes my lord." The butler straightened and exited with a snap of his black coattails.

A/N: Please, by all means, REVIEW! Let me know how it is!