(July 2012 - I've been revising this story regarding the punctuation marks and a few mistakes in wording. I did not change the contents, not even my author's notes. But with a lot of commas erased from the text and some incorrect words replaced, I really believe it's more enjoyable to read now. Which is important, since I find myself thinking about a sequel :) )

When I finished uploading my first fanfic on this site only four weeks ago, I had no idea that a manga like "Black Butler" even existed. I came across Ciel and Sebastian by coincidence (and a well-assorted manga-collection in a bookstore far away from home). And here I am now, getting them in trouble already. I guess, Sebastian is just too annoyingly perfect to be left alone. Makes me itch to ruffle his hair some and see, how he looks afterwards.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sebastian or Ciel or any of the characters of "Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler". The Devil's Grandmother is folklore, I guess. Anyway, I don't own her, either. I do not make money from this.

Chapter 1: Bedtime stories

The messenger was beautiful. She was lithe and lissom. She was of noble blood.

He named her "Giulietta" right away, and he had the feeling that she liked the name.

She could never be his. His master had decided he could not keep a pet. Ciel just had no idea what a look into a cat's amber eyes might tell you.

In this case, it was more than the usual promise of "I'll trade my haughty company for your food". Giulietta had been sent to Phantomhive Manor and its butler to announce a rare visitor.

Sebastian put the cat down on the window sill and asked her to return later in the evening ("When the night is as pitch black as your silken fur, Julie").

He would be there. Now, however, he needed to find Earl Phantomhive and tell him about the change in the schedule for today's evening.

As it befitted a proper demon, Sebastian's visitor arrived in the middle of a late afternoon thunderstorm. However, she did not seem to appreciate it. Ciel heard her complaining on his way from the study, "...always raining cats and dogs. It's never been different, not in the days of William the Conqueror, not at the court of Henry VIII or anytime in between. Not one single day of sunshine, I swear!" There was a short pause and then her voice again, "I'm most certainly not, young one! It is the truth as sincere as I feel it!"

Ciel braced himself. He'd not been too eager when Sebastian had found him in his study and filled him in on the news that his grandmother would stop over for a visit tonight.

"Your grandmother?" Ciel had asked. "Tonight? That's...a bit surprising, isn't it?"

"It's her way. The Devil's Grandmother is wherever she likes and whenever she chooses to be," Sebastian had answered enigmatically. "Always and forever, to the end of time."

"So I take it she's old. But is she...nice?"

"Awfully nice. A hell of a nice grandma," Sebastian had dead-panned. "Like straight from fairytales."

Ciel had spent the last couple of hours doing research on theology and folklore. But nowhere had he found a description of the demon he was about to meet.

He was positively surprised: Standing in his hallway was a rather tall, white-haired lady. She wore an old-fashioned dress, coloured pale blue like a morning sky in spring, and a big, elegant hat with a black veil draped on the brim. She had been busy shaking her umbrella that was tall enough to be used as a walking stick. Now, she looked at him.

"Grandmother?" asked Sebastian. "May I introduce you to my current master? Earl Ciel Phantomhive."

"My pleasure, Earl," the old lady said. When she smiled, Ciel caught the slightest of ideas that her eyeteeth were sharper than the usual set. Her eyes were a reddish brown, just like Sebastian's.

"Welcome to Phantomhive, Lady...?"

"Grandmother," the lady demon prompted.

"But that's what you are," Ciel protested. "It's not a name."

"I hereby declare it a name," the lady demon said. "I declare it to be my name. Grandmother. It's a title of honour. Maybe even more so than an inherited coat of arms. No offense intended."

"Er...none taken", Ciel replied, casting his smirking butler a venomous glance.

Another thunderclap shook the building.

"What a nasty afternoon," Grandmother said. "Well, we'll make the most of it. Why don't you two go and light up the fireplace? I'll bring the cake. We'll have tea and storys."

Sebastian obviously took the suggestion as an order. Before Ciel could protest he was scooped up and carried off. He ended up sitting on the sofa in his parlour. Sebastian was already at work, stacking up logs.

"Storys?" Ciel asked dully.

"Grandmother is a great storyteller," Sebastian explained and added, "I wonder, what we'll have for tea."

"We? Shouldn't you be out there, giving the proper instructions?"

"That will not be necessary. Grandmother will bring the cake. And I have already taken the liberty of preparing your tea. It's right beside you."

There was indeed a teapot on a warmer and fine china laid out ready on a small table at Ciel's armrest. "But when did you -?" Seeing Sebastian's gentle smile take on a touch of spite, Ciel shook his head. "Never mind."

Sipping his tea, Ciel sat and watched his butler busy himself with the kindling. Sebastian was gifted at starting fires. That probably came with his nature. When the first flames sprang from the logs, he put away the bellows and gently breathed into the flames until he was sure they would not go out again. Then he sat on a chair beside the fireplace, the iron poker on his lap. Ciel watched him with his one eye narrowed: Of course there was not the tiniest flake of soot on Mr. Perfect Butler's face, hands or tailcoat.

Seeing his master's glare, Sebastian chuckled silently to himself.

As if she'd been summoned by the flames, Grandmother stood next to Ciel's sofa. She carried a pie and looked for a place to deposit it. "Young one? Why don't you come over and sit beside your master?"

Sebastian sobered up instantly, "I don't think that's decent, Grandmother."

"Decent!" she snorted, putting the pie on the little table next to Ciel's tea cup. "What's decent? Today, tomorrow, yesterday? A century ago and a millennium from now? Maybe it's not considered 'decent' in the here and now. But it's comfortable."

"It's alright, Sebastian," Ciel said, distracted by the delicious smell of the pie and vaguely afraid they'd never get down to eating it. "Come and sit with me."

Sebastian sat on the sofa and craned his neck to have a closer look at his Grandmother's gift. "Apple pie? Er...Grandmother, but that's not apples from The Tree? Garden of Eden, 'Eritis sicut deus...', and so on, remember? The young master is human just like they were."

Grandmother produced a knife and cut the pie. "Never fear, young one. These are ordinary fruits. As long as you didn't tamper with the tree in your master's garden, that is."

"Apples from my garden?" Ciel asked. "But it's March."

"It will be October. when I pluck them", Grandmother explained patiently. "Next year, to be precise. This year's harvest won't be sweet and juicy enough."

The Devil's Grandmother is wherever she likes and whenever she chooses to be. Always and forever, to the end of time.

Ciel began to see what his butler had tried to get across. He picked up a piece of the apple pie and put it into his mouth. His taste-buds fell in love immediately. There was the distinguished flavour of apples, and it was delicious. But there was more. Ciel thought he could sense the sun that had given sweetness to the fruits. He smelled the rain that had washed the dust from the gleaming surface of the red and golden orb. Butterflies, bees, swallows in the sky. The warmth of a lazy summer afternoon had been captured and turned into taste.

Ciel look up. "This is marvellous. Unbelievable."

"It's called 'temptation'," Sebastian said, but very, very softly. He watched Ciel go for another piece and smiled shrewdly.

Meanwhile, Grandmother had stooped beside the fire and retrieved a pear-shaped bottle and three long-stemmed glasses. She placed them on the mantlepiece and filled them with a golden liqueur.

Ciel motioned Sebastian to lean over. "Where did she get these?" he whispered, munching his pie. "It looked like she somehow pulled them straight out of the fire?"

His butler whispered back, "She did. Fire's an easy shortcut, well, home, you know?"

"She reached into my fire and into her larder? Can you do that, too?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, do you remember when you caught me 'burning' that book?"

"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea. Of course I remember. It was one of my favorites."

"Actually, I was passing it on to my cousin. By the by, he liked it too. - Thank you, Grandmother." Sebastian took the glass his grandmother handed him.

"What's that?" Ciel asked, accepting his glass and smelling the sweet aroma of the drink.

"Liqueur of mirabelles from the gardens of Versailles. I plucked them while the French Revolution raged in the city of Paris."

Ciel took a sip and the experience of tasting the apple pie repeated itself.

"Easy, young master," Sebastian warned. "This is something even I might get drunk on."

"You might." Ciel smirked evilly and clutched the bottle's neck. "But you won't, since it's all mine."

Sebastian stifled a sigh. It was always highly enjoyable to see humans fall for the saturation of some petty, mortal desire. It always became a nuisance, when you felt that same petty desire yourself and had to start competing.

"Are you two warm and cozy?" Grandmother had seated herself in Ciel's armchair. She held a book on her knees. The volume was bound in leather and looked old and worn. "All ready and set?"

Ciel still refused to believe that an ancient demon would show up just to feed him apple pie and read stories to him. Sebastian opened his crimson eyes just wide enough to meet Ciel's gaze. "You don't need to be anxious, young master. Grandmother is not going to harm you. Enjoy the stories."

"But this is so weird!"

"The devil has quite a reputation for being impulsive, unpredictable and driven by the whim of a moment," Grandmother said.

"He's also known for never doing anything without a purpose," Ciel pointed out.

"Well, that will be cousin Beelzebub, then," Grandmother said dryly. "Anyway, what makes you think there's no purpose in telling a story just for the sake of telling it?"

"Er..."

Seeing him at a loss for words, Grandmother nodded contently and opened her book.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away...," she started.

A lot had happened once upon a time and far away from British dominion, Ciel realized before long. It seemed that Devil and Man had been at each other for an eternity, and Grandmother remembered it all. There were poor, but smart farmers, making appalling bargains with the demons and coming out on top. There were less smart, but noble girls in dire need of being rescued. There inevitably was some youth willing to risk his life and soul for the girl's sake. Ciel listened and learned: About fervent promises made only to be broken as the tide turned. Treaties were observed to the very letter and thereby taken to the absurd. Conditions were only as good as the morales of the person supposed to heed them, and words could be contorted like the thorny twigs of thick brambles: You might get hurt.

But then again, you might find a berry.

The only thing slightly disturbing about Grandmother's storytelling was her attitude of calling the devil by a name: "Uncle Friedrich" was the one who got duped by the clever orphaned goose-boy. "Cousin Pierre" had almost (but only almost) got the better of that old king and his seven daughters. And "that foolish brat Charlie" had actually collected an impressive amount of souls, since he specialized in shipwrecking. ("It's amazing, the inspiration one can draw from reading a novel by Jules Verne," Sebastian muttered into his mirabelle liqueur.) But without doubt some dauntless sailor was already on his way to avenge his comrades, and –

"Before long, Charlie, too, will find out that one should not count his fire salamanders while they're still tadpoles," Grandmother concluded. "There's an awful lot of big fish out there who'll enjoy tadpoles for starters. My tales, however, will end for now."

When all remained quiet but for the cackle of the dying fire, Ciel opened his eye. His first glance went to the big clock: It was past ten, his bedtime.

He looked around and found Sebastian dozing in the other corner of the sofa. The demon held his glass in his lap and casually supported his head with his left hand, his elbow on the backrest. His eyes were closed, his smile uncharacteristically peaceful and relaxed. He looked an innocent. However, he had managed to pinch the liqueur bottle from Ciel without the boy noticing.

"Young one?" Grandmother said. "How about finishing your drink and taking your ward to his room?"

Sebastian woke with a little start. Obviously, he, like Ciel before, was returning from "a kingdom far away", and having trouble with it. He also was tipsy. Ciel noticed, but he was too preoccupied in his own daydreams to bother: On the way to his room the young Earl kept thinking about brave-hearted boys, no older than himself, and how they, being clever and invincible, rescued their damsels in distress. Getting ready for bed, he reflected on how the damsel looked very much like Miss Elizabeth, and the hero more often than not wore an eye patch.

Then Ciel was tucked in by his butler, and the need to communicate arose when so far there had been an absent-minded silence between them.

Smiling dreamily, Sebastian asked for Ciel's wishes for breakfast, and just as dreamily Ciel said, "Storys", before correcting himself, "Toasted bread, and, er... I dunno. Mirabelle jam."

"Very well," Sebastian said politely, trying to make it sound like he cared. When Ciel dismissed him to return to his own room, it took some effort to be patient and walk through the corridors instead of – well, just being there.

Giulietta was already outside the window, turning on the narrow sill, meowing and rubbing her sides against the pane.

"Did I keep you waiting? I'm sorry!" Sebastian ran his finger along the cat's spine and watched her back fur ripple in response. He caught her and began to scratch her sides with both hands.

When the attack came, it happened too fast for a demon completely off-guard and merrily contemplating fairytales and the beauty of felines with Italian names.

A wire loop was cast around Sebastian's neck and pulled tight. He was hauled through the window by the combined strength and effort of three men. The forth tackled him as his back hit the ground. "With my voice I claim you, with my sigil I mark you, with fire I engrave your name onto your soul: Samiel!"

The assaulter pressed something to Sebastian's brow that felt like a white-hot branding iron. Sebastian dealt the man a backhanded slap. Tearing at the noose, he yanked the three man off their feet.

"Samiel!"

Horrified, Sebastian felt something inside himself respond. He ripped the noose and scrambled to his feet, getting ready to strike back.

"Samiel!" the voice boomed for the third time. "Stop! I command you!"

Sebastian froze. He could not help it. The man's order seemed to pierce his brain like a very thin and searing hot spike. A bag was pulled over Sebastian's head and some hard item brought down on his skull. Yet, he could've taken the blow easily. The real problem lay in the deeply disturbing fact that an alien name was establishing itself within his very being. The basic shock that such a thing should be possible and actually happening to him was accompanied by an excruciating sensation of dizziness and confusion that proved impossible to put up with.

Sebastian blacked out as the stranger's spell took hold.

+++End of Chapter 1+++

A/N: Well, this is as far as I'll tell the story tonight. Hope you enjoyed the entrance; if you did, please let me know and there'll be "serious ruffling" coming up soon.