Till Death Do Us Part

SUMMARY: Grell is present after Sebastian fakes his murder by the hands of Charles Grey. Being a self-proclaimed actress, the melodramatic grim reaper is just dying to play the role of Sebas-chan's bereaved widow.

GENRE: Humor/Drama
RATED: PG / K+
NOTABLE CONTENT: Slapstick & Suggestive Humor (Grell's usual theatrics), and Brief Mild Language
PAIRING(S): One-sided Grell/Sebastian

COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler, or the references to Romeo and Juliet.
STORY TAKES PLACE IN: AU/alteration of manga chapter 50: "The Butler, Laid to Rest." Minor anime allusions, too.

COMMENTS: The entire time I read the Phantomhive murder mystery arc I kept imagining how Grell might react to Sebastian's death. So I bent canon and tried my luck to see what might have happened. :3 Muwahaha!

This story features a blend of serious and not-so-serious elements. Prepare yourself for a faux funeral that is as forlorn as it is fluffy. It's Kuroshitsuji, so need I say more? Viola!

Till Death Do Us Part
Aiselne P.N.

Church bells echoed across the desolate cemetery. A calm, crisp breeze combed through the sunlit grounds, offering no comfort to the small gathering of people dressed in black. Crowded around a single grave was Ciel Phantomhive's ragtag family of friends, each paying their heartbroken respects to the man to be laid to rest.

The bell-adorned headstone read:

To the memory of Sebastian Michaelis
Died March 1889

All the while Ciel maintained his perpetually stoic countenance. His blue eye perused his ebony-clad butler's lifeless form lying peacefully in one of Undertaker's finest coffins. Fresh lilies framed the length of Sebastian's still body, yet Ciel could only think how the flowers' colour poorly suited his demonic manservant. White flowers for a black butler. What a farce.

Then again, the earl acknowledged that today's funeral was a farce. Ciel of all people knew Sebastian would not die yet, certainly not before his master's revenge was fully exacted. The contract had yet to be fulfilled. However, their previous case forced Ciel and Sebastian—more so the latter than the former—to take drastic measures. It was imperative that Sebastian appeared dead, by the sword of the Queen's butler Earl Charles Grey, no less. The performance was splendid and inevitably gave another victory to the Phantomhives. After all, if Sebastian could not convincingly fake his own killing to give his master the upper hand in a murder mystery case, what kind of butler would he be?

So why even bother with the formalities of a funeral? Well, there was the small issue of the rest of the Phantomhive servants and friends thinking that Sebastian was legitimately dead…

Ciel contemplated a peek at the nearest clock tower. Really, exactly how long do you intend to play dead before your miraculous resurrection, Sebastian? The unimpressed child frowned to himself. He already had more than his fill of watching his supernatural butler play Lazarus in the past. What a waste of time this is. So foolish…

His thoughts were interrupted by the feminine, hiccupped sobs coming from his left side. Not a second later did Ciel's weepy fiancée throw her arms around him, eliciting a surprised gasp from the boy whilst the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

"Oh Ciel!" Elizabeth wailed at the top of her lungs, crushing her blushing betrothed to her chest. The kids were close enough to be cheek-to-cheek. Hot tears fell from Lizzie's eyes, down her puffy cheeks, and inevitably landed on Ciel's own; the only tears ever found on Earl Phantomhive's face. "Sebastian is s-such a liar! He vowed to never leave your side! N-Never! How could he do this?!"

His conscience, of what conscience remained in the hollowed body of the Queen's guard dog, nagged Ciel to tell her the truth. Perhaps this charade was cruel, though regret was a fleeting emotion to Ciel. Even so, Elizabeth was not the only griever present; Tanaka, Finny, Mey-Rin, Bard, Agni… It surprised Ciel to realize how many people actually cared about the earl of the British underworld and his faithful demon.

"Don't cry, Ciel!" Just when the earl had one blubbering mess on his hands, Soma made two. The emotional prince latched onto Ciel's other arm and buried his face into the hair of the shorter boy whom Soma grew to consider his little brother. Prince Soma and Elizabeth rivaled one another as they poured their hearts out all over Ciel's suit. "We'll always be together! So don't c-cry!"

I'm not the one crying, you fools, Ciel was tempted to say but wisely minded his tongue. How could Lizzie and the others possibly know the truth when Ciel and Sebastian concealed such? Their dark secrets were hidden in the shadows, family and friends being no exception. That was how the underworld worked; it was a dark, dangerous, taciturn, and lonely business.

But whilst being sandwiched inside Elizabeth and Soma's group hug, not to mention surrounded by the rest of his sobbing companions, Ciel allowed a soft, rare smile upon his lips. "Sebastian and I are truly fortunate to have people who care for us so much." The so-called Aristocrat of Evil was human enough to admit that much.

His and Sebastian's charade had gone far enough. As planned, any minute now the tombstone's bell would chime, the butler would rise, and Sebastian Michaelis' demise would be remembered as nothing more than a silly misunderstanding; a rare case where the victim was legitimately dead for a short period of time, then revived. Details were certain to be overlooked in lieu of Sebastian's miracle, considering most of his audience members were scatterbrained in the first place. Then everyone could return to their daily lives. Ciel had long since grown tired of this game. With Sebastian playing dead lately it made life for the earl a tad less convenient.

Are you about done now, Sebastian? Ciel mentally complained, his smile vanishing as rapidly as it materialized. This sham is grating my patience. He had half a mind to place a hand on his eye patch and contractually order Sebastian to quit playing games. Must I command you—

The single ring of a bell prompted everyone's heads. But nobody was more surprised than Ciel upon discovering that the ring had not come from Sebastian's grave. Everybody had lost track and forgotten the church bells that had stopped chiming moments ago. Now came a new ring, single, as though someone in the bell tower chimed it once more for Sebastian's sake.

Another breeze then swept through the crowd, almost coming from the direction of the chapel. At first Ciel did not know precisely why he turned his attention to whence the wind came. There was a presence, and a vaguely familiar one; someone he had not seen for quite some time, yet who left an impression that could not easily be forgotten. Traversing from the church cobblestone down to the cemetery, Ciel's eye widened upon recognizing the lone, longhaired figure approaching in a red, breeze-fluttering coat.

He knew he heard Elizabeth squeak under her breath, "Auntie An?!"

No. It was not the late Madam Red—it was that thing who killed Madam Red, still audaciously flaunting himself in Angelina's favorite frock. Grell Sutcliff's absence during recent months had been no tragedy as far as Ciel was concerned. He did not know what became of Grell after the Jack the Ripper crimes, and damned be Ciel if he cared. Frankly, Earl Phantomhive never again wanted to see that deranged shinigami.

What in hell is he doing here?!

Unaware of Ciel's bubbling anger, Elizabeth and the others silently watched the crimson stranger stroll to Sebastian's resting place. Grell's true identity was yet another secret kept from Ciel's companions…most of his companions, anyway. Only Undertaker smiled in eerie amusement, but nobody paid him any notice, considering the mortician almost always wore that creepy grin.

Everybody else was dumbfounded. Just who was this Madam Red lookalike? Some spectators like Finnian could not make heads or tails if this newcomer was male or female. Above all, what gave this person the right to throw reverential etiquette to the wind? Red attire at a funeral?! If that was not improper enough, now the redhead was kneeling beside Sebastian's coffin!

Grell Sutcliff never cared much for drab formalities. He needed drama, and oh, what delicious drama he got upon hearing of his Sebas-chan's death! For the past few weeks since his suspension's end, the shinigami had been stealthily poking around Phantomhive manor; collecting the souls of the Noah's Ark Circus and those legitimately killed during the Earl Grey affair. Naturally, it was all an excuse for Grell to keep an eye out for his raven-haired sweetheart. It had been so long—too long—since Grell and Sebastian's moonlight tryst during Jack the Ripper's era. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and what better way was there to be reunited than in death~?

Of course, Grell could see right through today's tragic masquerade. He was a grim reaper, after all. Not only had Sebastian's name never appeared on the to-die list, but Grell could tell just by looking at the demon's resting (and oh so sexy) body that Sebby was most certainly not dead. The manservant's act was convincing enough for humans, not so much for gods. Grell Sutcliff prided himself in being more than adequately acquainted with Death's magnificent handiwork.

Nevertheless, Grell appreciated a good performance. If Sebastian was capable of rendering his audience into a lachrymose mess, just imagine what Grell's superior acting skills could do! Oh, how the demon and reaper's duet would crush their spectators' cores! Shakespeare's very soul would weep! The drama! The passion! Yes! Such was what Grell lived for, and the chance to take the stage with his beloved butler was an opportunity that Grell could not possibly refuse!

"'To the memory of Sebastian Michaelis,'" began the scarlet reaper, softly reciting the grave's epitaph: "'May ye be in heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead.'" Grell's lips curled upward as a light giggle passed his serrated teeth. As the demon said when they first met, Sebastian knew nothing of heaven. Besides, the so-called "devil" also happened to be the man laid to rest. Myyy, how satirical you are, Sebas-chan~!

He heard gasps from his audience as Grell's gloved hand shamelessly reached out to stroke Sebastian's frigid jawbone. "My darling, so cold in both life and now death. If only you would have let my passion for you warm that icy heart of yours." One of his fingers traced Sebastian's lower lip, whilst Grell's own lips pursed into a loving smile. "Alas, it appears that our time has passed along with your life. How very cruel of you to leave me incomplete."

Ciel's eyebrow twitched for a variety of reasons. If it were not for the crowd of mourners surrounding him then the earl would have already sic Sebastian on Grell. The memories of Madam Red's chest being carved open by that lunatic's bloody chainsaw… Forget Sebastian; Ciel was livid enough to rip apart a death god with his bare hands! But the boy stayed himself. This was not the time nor place for a rerun of Grell and Sebastian's previous showdown. And with or without his demon's aid, Ciel could not wage war with a shinigami whilst in the presence of Lizzie and the others. Ciel already lost Aunt Angelina and he did not want to lose anyone else.

Still, Grell's presence was anything but settling. The redhead revived painful memories. Furthermore, Grell's cameo was utterly disturbing, and not just because Ciel was watching his corpse-playing butler be caressed by a shark-toothed transvestite. Worst of all, Ciel could not shake the thought of a live grim reaper being present at Sebastian's faux funeral. Knowing Grell, he was here just to soak up the limelight alongside his Sebby, but what if…?

How preposterous. Sebastian was not actually dead!

...Right?

Grell's dainty fingers glided across Sebas-chan's chest towards his stilled heart. Whether or not demons even had hearts was never an issue to Grell. Devil he may be, but Sebastian also took the form of a man; if Grell could not appease the heart, he was certain he could satisfy other parts of Sebastian's body. Oooh, how tempting it was to have Sebastian lying so vulnerably flat on his back~! But first things first, Grell had a performance to give. And children were in the audience, too. Damn.

The crimson death god sighed softly, longingly. Drawing ever closer to his beloved, Grell's hovering shadow darkened the devil's pale features. "I wonder; did Juliet's heart break so profoundly when she gazed upon Romeo's poisoned remains?"

Seconds dragged onto what felt like hours. More and more tears could be heard from the onlookers. The longer it took for Sebastian to awaken, the further Ciel demanded, if not outright begged, that surely his omnipotent demon butler was not dead. …Right?

…Right?

Grell's lustful smile curled into a macabre grin. "Indeed, Death is a greedy mistress, wanting you all to herself. My Sebas-chan."

Right?!

…

Right! Better than anyone, Sebastian knew he was most certainly not dead. Although, death did appear the lesser of two evils when being fondled by a gender-confused shinigami. Grell might have been the so-called actress, but it was Sebastian who put his own acting skills to the ultimate test. It took every ounce of otherworldly willpower for Sebastian not to twitch, attack, or vomit. Like his master, Sebastian was anything but happy to be reunited with Grell of all people, especially now.

Grell, on the other hand, relished every second of the satirical reunion. Perhaps a tad too much. "But I must confess, you are as gorgeous as ever, my love, even in death~!"

What in hell does this imbecile think he is doing?!

Sebastian's skin crawled as he felt womanly fingers dance along his body like spiders. The grim reaper had no sense of timing whatsoever, popping in at the most inopportune moment with his flamboyant nonsense. Perhaps this was divine punishment for Sebastian having cruelly fooled the others into thinking he died. The butler would gladly accept any punishment, other than punishment in the form of Grell Sutcliff.

"Oh, how viciously cruel fate is!" cried out Grell, losing himself in yet another one of his overdone soap operas. All the world was a stage and Grell Sutcliff was its finest, and most beautiful, of actresses. "What a sin it is to tear apart young lovers! We are but two roses prematurely cut before we could bloom. Indeed, I remain, but my life shall always be lacking without you. How could any other man possibly fill this hole in my heart?"

The demon would have snorted if he were not so well mannered. This coming from a man whose heart is lecherous enough to swoon over any handsome face that crosses his path. A certain Grim Reaper Dispatch manager came to mind. Regardless if Grell's elegy was sincere or not, Sebastian doubted the redheaded tart would have any difficulties "filling" the so-called hole in his heart. As for the holes in his head, well, Sebastian doubted anything could fix that problem.

Besides, Sebastian had his own problem at hand. Now posed the question as to how Sebastian could properly perform his miraculous resurrection with Grell in the way. That blasted reaper had quite an affinity for blunders. It would not take much effort to thwart today's charade, any more so than it already was.

Bloody hell, Sebastian moaned exasperatingly in his mind.

And in the scheme of things, Sebastian's audience remained speechless, Grell's intent, naturally. But the tear-stained yet appalled faces of Ciel's friends proved that the onlookers were anything but thrilled with today's performance. Finny and Bard's jaws nearly hit the ground, most unbecoming for servants of Phantomhive. Mey-Rin's sobbing evolved from grief over Mister Sebastian's death to grief over Sebastian having had a secret affair with someone else. And Prince Soma, Agni, Tanaka, and Elizabeth peered with pitying faces as they watched Sebastian's poor, poor (wo)man. Aside Ciel's disgust, the only other non-weepy onlooker was the Undertaker…smartly shrouded in the background so grievers would not notice the drooling silver-haired man on the verge of rolling across the cemetery in stitches.

Sebastian Michaelis acknowledged that he was a demon from hell; it went without saying that he was no saint, and he was too proud to accept any sympathy for the devil, either. So what if he instigated the Black Death and a variety of other historic tragedies that resulted in hefty body (and soul) counts? Did those crimes really warrant a punishment as excessive as Sebastian being saddled with the natural, and supernatural, world's biggest pain in the ass?!

"Ooh, how ever shall I go on without you, my Sebas-chan?" Though the greater question was how ever did Grell's voice manage to reach such melodramatic octaves. Sebastian preferred no answer to either inquiry. "Perhaps our star-crossed love was fated to end in death, as all great romances do. 'Oh happy dagger!' Perhaps it would be divine mercy on my broken heart if I stopped its beating right now, runneth through and spill my beautiful red blood all for you!"

Sebastian's eyes discreetly rolled underneath his closed eyelids. Always the drama queen, and a suicidal queen at that. The demon recalled Grell's self-murdering theatrics as Madam Red's lunatic butler. But do feel free to take your own life at your earliest convenience, Grell. We are currently situated outside so your death shouldn't create that troublesome a mess. If only Sebastian were so fortunate.

"But it is as they say," Grell paused to lick his lips. His hands briefly left the demon's body so the effeminate reaper could place them over his allegedly breaking heart. "'Till death~ do us part.'"

Somebody, most likely Mey-Rin, gasped soundly in the background; she should have known that a man as amazing as Sebastian Michaelis could not possibly be single. But when had Mister Sebastian married? Eloped?! Might he have been betrothed beforehand, prior to inexplicably becoming Master Ciel's manservant? Come to think of it, nobody knew a thing about the mysterious butler's life before joining the Phantomhives.

Curious whispers rapidly engulfed the onlooking congregation, and having extramundane-enhanced senses, Sebastian heard each and every "what if" pertaining to him and his idiotic "wife."

"They" only say, "till death do us part" to the betrothed, Grell, which need I remind you that we are not betrothed? And never will be.

But Grell's delusions did not stop at mere marriage. Heavens no! Had Sebastian's eyes been open, he would have been able to see (and prepare himself) when his certifiable fangirl's hands lowered from her chest to abdomen. "Our child will be forever fatherless!"

Somebody, most likely Mey-Rin, shrieked in the background, heralding the chorus of gasps, chokes, and eye-bulges from everyone else in the audience.

Not even Sebastian knew what restrained him from massacring Grell at that moment. There is no child, and there never will be a child, because there cannot be a bloody child! Grell obviously played hooky on the day Shinigami Academy taught the differences between boys and girls. Or, the redheaded student had been too busy nosebleeding over the diagrams of nude men to bat an eyelash to the female half of his anatomy lesson. Whatever the case, the redhead definitely missed that memo. But why must Sebastian be the one to suffer?!

But in the eyes of his audience, Sebastian was not the only person suffering. Elizabeth was inconsolable after learning that Mister Sebastian not only left behind Ciel, but he also left behind a wife and baby! It was too cruel! Too heartbreaking! The poor girl wept for so many reasons, all the while holding onto her fiancée for dear life. It was a miracle Lizzie managed to whisper coherently into Ciel's ear, "Oh C-iel! Promise me! Never l-leave me like that! Not a-gain!"

Only for a moment did Ciel forget the funeral's farce, his face softening for Elizabeth as the boy gentlemanly offered her his handkerchief. When he vanished three years ago after the original Phantomhive estate burned down, Ciel knew Lizzie underwent a hell that might have rivaled his own. But Ciel could not fulfill Elizabeth's promise, because hell would eventually return to claim his soul forever. He did not regret making a covenant with Sebastian, but…

But there were so many people who cared.

"Don't worry, Lady Michaelis!" Somebody suddenly called out from the crowd, drawing everyone's attention to the pigtailed maid with tears streaming behind her thick glasses. Mey-Rin could not take it anymore. If Sebastian loved another woman, so be it. She was not petty enough to take out her jealousy on a grieving widow. "Mister Sebastian was a Phantomhive servant! Any member of his family is a member of ours, yes!"

Finnian wiped away a round of tears with his sleeve before nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! You don't have to worry about being left alone, ma'am! You've got us all!"

"Mey-Rin n' Finny are right!" Bard was third to chime in, balling his large fists to control both his emotions and welling energy. "The manor's got plenty a' room! Plenty a' food, too." He paused to wink. "Which yours truly would be glad ta' cook for ya anytime! Just say the word!"

Agni joined the chef's side, bowing reverently. "It would be my pleasure to assist in preparing any meal for the bride of Master Sebastian, whom I had the utmost privilege of calling a friend."

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Prince Soma finally extricated himself from Ciel in order to wrap an arm around his beloved khansama's shoulders. "And we won't forget about Sebastian's kin, either! We'll treat the little one like a prince!" Provided the baby was a boy, that is. Sebastian's woman had yet to specify. "Or, heh, princess."

Elizabeth's forehead rose from her betrothed's shoulder. Her pinkish, watery green eyes began to glisten for a new reason. Despite the moment's sadness, the young lady managed to dab her eyes and nose with Ciel's handkerchief, an unexpected smile forming behind its fabric. "I always wanted a little sister. I'll shower her with the cuuutest of toys and dresses!" Lizzie hoped she could become half as great an older sibling as her dear big brother Edward.

"Rest assured that everything will be taken care of, madam," stepped forward Tanaka, the old man's genuflect reminiscent of Sebastian's courtesy. The metal Phantomhive crest had been returned to Tanaka's lapel, christening him once again as the head manservant. Three years had passed since the deadly Phantomhive fire, since Tanaka's injuries, and since Sebastian appeared. His lapel's pin felt heavier than Tanaka last recalled.

He knew he was not getting any younger, and Tanaka also knew he could never hold a candle to the black butler's extraordinariness. But he was still a Phantomhive servant, and to Tanaka, that great responsibility came with an even greater sense of consanguinity.

The elder butler's face was wrinkled, yet warm. "Nothing but the best for Master Sebastian's family."

Ciel wanted to slap some sense into his friends, not merely because of Grell's antics, but where in hell did they get the nerve to open the Phantomhive home without its earl's consent? Better yet, what the hell was taking Sebastian so long to get rid of that perverted shinigami?! Must Ciel decree everything an official order?

Sebastian would have already sent the reaper into orbit, had he not been blindsided by his fellow friends' kindness. Devils were not softhearted. Neither were grim reapers. However, Sebastian's paranormal awareness allowed him to notice the minute change in his self-titled wife's demeanor.

Even Grell was caught off-guard by his audience's overflow of niceties. The scarlet actress expected applause for her performance, naturally, but never anything above and beyond mere accolades. Grell knew he was a stupendous performer, but to think his audience was so moved as to invite him into their family! Were all humans so outrageously naïve?!

The reaper was well aware of the Phantomhive principle of providing "nothing but the best." But the honesty in his onlookers' teary eyes told Grell that these people wanted to help not merely because of their namesake's illustrious aesthetic. These people actually cared. They did not even know (nor bother to know) who and what was "Lady Michaelis" (Oh, how Grell relished the ring of that name! Pure music to the ears~). These people were as sweet as they were stupid.

And yet, Grell would lie if he claimed he was not just a tad flattered. He abhorred the lowly existence of human beings. As a death god, Grell had seen more than enough examples of how pitifully and repugnantly people lived. Humans were not the sharpest of creatures, either, today not being the first time that the high and mighty Phantomhives fell for Grell Sutcliff's theatrics in parodying innocence.

In truth, Grell enjoyed satirizing the female stereotype in theatre. A dainty, emotional lady was what audiences expected, after all. Underneath the façade, Grell despised fragile little girls who fell apart at the tiniest tragedies, all to savour the tiniest sympathies, no less. There was nothing fragile about a lady who painted the town blood red with a raring chainsaw. Just because Grell wanted to be a woman did not mean he wanted to be a pathetic woman.

And yet…Grell was not a heartless woman, either. "Lowly" humans may be, but at least Phantomhive's people welcomed Grell. The flamboyant shinigami's antics tended to turn-off his own kind (though Grell could not imagine why). How the hell did the Queen's nefarious watchdog manage to attract such genuinely good people?

Ciel Phantomhive certainly did not deserve such a kindhearted family. Neither did Sebastian Michaelis. Neither did Grell Sutcliff. Individually in their minds, the trio simultaneously agreed that the time had come for the curtain to close on today's masquerade. Naturally, the lead actress took initiative.

"Oooh! Bless your hearts! You're too kind!" Grell gushed to everyone, upholding his weepy widow persona quite splendidly, if he did say so himself. "Sadly, no amount of kindness can completely alleviate the pain of losing my love. I fear my broken heart will never be mended."

The reaper's sweet breath warmed his dead lover's cheeks—much, much too close a proximity for Sebastian's comfort. Red flags were beginning to rise as the minutes ticked and the distance between demon and reaper became lesser. "Personal space" obviously did not exist in Grell's dictionary, along with "modesty." Fingers returned to Sebastian's face, seductively tracing his lips.

"But no matter my grief, I cannot undo what has been done." Grell almost laughed at his own joke. Of all characters, a grim reaper claiming he had no say in someone's death? The redhead's ironic expertise impressed even himself.

Drawing ever closer, Grell's voice softened for effect, speaking only to Sebastian (though ensuring his voice was loud enough for the audience to still hear). "Our time has come to bid each other farewell. If only you could say the words, Sebas-chan. And if only you could hear mine."

A fresh batch of sobs engulfed the burial sight. Sebastian's patience had run dry, especially when he felt two drops of moisture dampen his cheeks—crocodile tears, he knew. Grell never did a half-assed performance, regardless if he made a total ass of himself in the process. It was high time the butler took matters into his own hands, before…

…Before Grell commenced his grand finale. One of the reaper's hands cradled the back of Sebastian's hair, raising his head until the couple's lips were centimetres apart. Scarier than Grell's lips were his sharp teeth, but Sebastian was most afraid of that slithering tongue just dying to breach the butler's mouth. Grell Sutcliff always saved the best for last, and oh, how he dreamed of this moment! How every great fantasy romance ended!

"Take this memento of me into the afterlife, darling," Grell whispered, his other hand cupping Sebastian's cheek. The shinigami swore he noticed a twitch, and perhaps the faintest outline of rose across Sebastian's nose. That, or the redness was anger-induced. Grell was not stupid enough to assume he could have his way any longer, so he dove in for the kill. Literally.

Leaning in, Grell's long hair cascaded to enshroud the god and devil in their private world of taboo romance. Everything was red, beautiful, and Sebastian's blushing bride could not have been more enchanted. Death! Love! Everything was intertwined, as would be Grell and his precious Romeo.

"And now, Se~basu~chan~" paused Grell, accentuating every syllable of the name he affectionately gave his demon. The redhead's voice became deep and intimate, no longer playing around himself. Death is a greedy mistress and Grell wanted the devil: all of Sebastian, all to himself. Their lips were practically magnetized. "As Juliet herself said, 'I will kiss thy lips'—"

Sebastian's fist was spring-loaded, diabolically powerful enough to send his ex-wife flying backwards into a tombstone countless rows away from the Phantomhive plot. There was bound to be damage…to a gravestone, that is.

The demon's inhuman punch was so fast that Grell vanished in the blink of a mortal's eye. The split-second catapult had yet to register into the stunned onlookers, until the proverbial bell rang beside Sebastian's grave. Already the butler was sitting up, albeit looking a tad winded after the funeral's escapades. The coffin's lilies rustled as Sebastian attempted to regain some comfort following an incredibly uncomfortable affair. After lying back for an extended period of time, the man's limbs felt stiff, and his ebony hair needed a smoothing.

"Goodness," Sebastian sighed heavily, rather relieved to finally be upright. All that was left was for him to leave the casket. "I finally managed to get out of that."

But as soon as Sebastian rose from his seat, the demon's body was crushed right back inside the padded coffin. Not a minute after ridding himself of one clingy person, Sebastian found himself bombarded with multiple clingers. Nearly everyone dove into the coffin to hug their beloved butler.

Sebastian Michaelis was alive!

Lizzie, Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin were the closest to embrace Sebastian's body. Each of them bawled uncontrollably, soaking Sebastian's once-pristine funeral attire. Elizabeth cried the loudest: for her sake, for Sebastian's sake, and above all for Ciel's sake. Finnian was the most incoherent, his waterworks preventing him from formulating speech to express his utmost relief. Only the Phantomhive chef and maid managed to warble a few words together.

"You goose! I thought for s-sure I'd lost another comrade again…" Baldroy thought he held himself together decently throughout the burial services. He was a proud former solider, after all. But now that Mister Sebastian was alive and kicking, well, there was no point in holding back anymore, was there?

Mey-Rin was hysterical with happiness, her intense sobs sending her false accent all over the place. "BISDER ZEBAZJAN! I AM ZO GLAAAD DO ZEE YOU!"

Although his colleagues' reaction was somewhat expected, Sebastian still sweatdropped. "Everyone, please calm yourselves." Such public displays of emotion were embarrassing for the servants of Phantomhive. Humans were often too heartfelt for their own good. But considering a devil was rarely offered such compassion, Sebastian figured he could tolerate (and maybe minutely appreciate) this rarity. Frankly, he was more annoyed by the dampening of his suit.

Smiles spread all around as the reality of the matter sank in. Tanaka's fingers grazed his butler's seal, the pin destined to return to its rightful owner. Prince Soma had given Ciel an extra big hug, both he and Agni profusely thanking Kali for this most blessed of miracles.

As for the young master, Ciel was relieved that all was done with Sebastian's faked murder. Perhaps life could now return to normal, or as normal as possible for the Aristocrats of Evil. Although, today certainly disproved his family's "evil" title after Ciel watched his friends crumble into blubbering messes. If only everyone knew they were crying over a fiendish demon.

Nonetheless, the boy was unable to ward off a small smile that twitched the farthest corner of his lips.

When the tears finally slowed, Sebastian managed to peel himself away from the dog-piled coffin. He was saturated. Why must human emotions yield such disgusting eye and nasal secretions? The butler would need a bath upon returning to the Phantomhive manor, after he saw to whatever whims Ciel planned for his newly-resurrected manservant.

By then, Finnian had reclaimed his voice. After wiping his face for the nth time, the blond began to peer around curiously. "Hey, wait a sec'…what about your wife, Mister Sebastian?"

The demon exchanged the quickest of glances with Ciel. Finny's question was inevitable, and having expected such, Sebastian knew precisely how to respond to the lad's questioning.

Sebastian's red eyes blinked all too innocently. "'Wife'? Why, wherever did you get that peculiar idea, Finnian? I am not married."

It was Finny and company's turn to blink. "But there was a lady just now—" Surely not all of them had imagined the strange yet pretty woman in red who inexplicably vanished in the blink of an eye. She could not possibly have been a ghost, even if she did resemble the deceased Madam Red. So where did she go? Did anyone catch her name? Was she really a woman (Finnian still had his reservations)? Why did she leave so soon? Could she no longer bear witnessing Sebastian's dead body? What a shame it was that she disappeared just as Sebastian returned to life, too. Would she ever again visit?

Though the thought churned his stomach, Sebastian doubted he had seen the last of Grell Sutcliff. But for now the demon would enjoy his liberation, and part of enjoying his freedom was hearing no more about that fruitcake grim reaper.

"Grief tends to twist the mind. You cannot always trust what your eyes see, especially when those eyes are clouded with tears," suggested Sebastian, wanting nothing more than for his coworkers to forget about the so-called lady. "Surely my fellow servants are aware that my loyalties belong exclusively to our young lord," Sebastian reassured with a nod. Readjusting his tailcoat, the butler's ghost of a smile returned to his handsome features.

He never lied. Only one thing in the world could separate Sebastian from Ciel. "Until death tears us apart."

With that, the infamous Phantomhive butler returned to his earl's side. Eventually the rest of his colleagues followed, still occasionally asking about the woman in red. Nobody believed her to be an illusion, but nobody mistrusted Sebastian's words, either. The day's overwhelming incidents would take a while for everyone else to absorb, but in due time. All's well that ended well. Nobody left the cemetery without a smile. Mey-Rin's was especially bright…but not as wide as that of the audience member left behind.

"Come by again to have a lie-down, you heeear~? Ehehehe!" Undertaker giddily called out, waving farewell to the Phantomhive party heading to their carriages outside the graveyard. The silver-haired craftsman perched himself atop Sebastian's abandoned tombstone, the toe of Undertaker's boot playfully tinkering with the grave's bell. He was pleased to know his safety-coffins' bells actually worked. Sebastian Michaelis was his first customer to rise from the dead.

Not that the Undertaker ever suspected Mister Butler had actually expired. The mortician knew better, but he also loved a good laugh.

And speaking of laughs… Undertaker cackled as he hopped off his seat, a skip in his step as he traversed many, many rows of graves to the crash sight of one mangled redhead. By then, Grell was fully conscious, compact mirror in hand as he surveyed the blood gushing from his broken nose. The reaper's healing abilities were already at work, but Sebastian Michaelis was not the type of demon to leave a fleeting wound.

Undertaker offered a hankie, its price being that he got to snicker the entire time Grell plugged his nose. "Eehehe! Quite a performance, milady!" he chuckled, clapping a round of applause before bursting into hysterics. For formalities sake, Undertaker had refrained from laughing too noisily during the funeral. Afterwards, his bottled-up giggles exploded so vociferously that Undertaker contemplated the services of Sebastian's abandoned coffin. Even Grell wondered if the old man might die of laughter.

Unsure if (though suspecting) he was being personally mocked, Grell opted to wait-out the weirdo mortician's convulsions. The handkerchief had eliminated any excess blood; thereafter Grell raised his glasses atop his head, pinching the bridge of his nose to halt further bleeding.

"Always aims for the face, dirty demon," grumbled Grell, though his voice lacked any bite due to the nasally effect from his poor nose. "I like bad boys who play dirty as much as the next girl, but there's just no excuse for hitting a lady in the face."

Undertaker snickered again at the "lady" remark. Indeed, before him was the "lady" who pretended to be Madam Red's bumbling butler, if Grell's crimson coat was any indication. That, and Undertaker recognized the shinigami's aura, something that could not be hidden underneath clothes—not without several hundred years of practice. Undertaker wondered if Grell sensed the mortician's own aura. Little did the Phantomhives realize that two grim reapers had been present at today's burial grounds.

"Just out of curiosity, Miss Grell Sutcliff," Undertaker cocked his head, an eerie smile perpetually plastered across his face. "Might today's production be a sneak preview of your ultimate elegy when Mister Butler truly dies?"

Grell dropped his spectacles back in place, narrowing his gold-green eyes at the man who casually confirmed his knowing the redhead's name and true identity. Lady Michaelis had never said her name during the funeral, and sans Sebastian and Ciel, everyone else still knew "Grell Sutcliff" as simply the Barnett family manservant. How did this creepy old man know otherwise? Unless…

The Undertaker's inquiry about Sebastian's death sounded another alarm in Grell's head. It was not a question of "if" the demon would die, either. Shinigami knew there was no escaping death, even for the most cunning and seemingly indestructible creatures. Demons were like cockroaches; they could survive almost anything, but that did not guarantee they were incapable of dying.

Truthfully, Grell did not want to ponder such. Grim reapers were advocates of death, but that did not necessarily mean they felt numb upon losing someone precious. Grell watched colleagues, friends, die in the line of duty—nearly died himself once when William was severely injured during the rookie reapers' first deployment into a warzone. Little Lord Phantomhive selfishly believed he was the only soul hurt by Madam Red's passing, too. And now, to imagine the demise of his wonderful Sebas-chan…

"Hmph." The scarlet reaper chuckled deeply, gently tossing Undertaker's bloodied handkerchief back to its owner. "Now, now, it's no fun to spoil an ending. Besides, you never can tell with a maiden's fickle heart~"

Then Grell materialized his death scythe. Effortlessly he hoisted the silenced chainsaw over one shoulder, tossing his long red hair over the adjacent. Contrasting a brilliant flash of his razor smile, Grell winked coquettishly. "But you can be dead certain that when Sebas-chan's end comes, I will be there, be it to weep or reap his soul. This Juliet isn't about to let her Romeo get away so easily."

Undertaker cackled morbidly. "Ehehe. That I have no doubt."

With that, Grell about-faced, prepared to return to the shinigami realm. Today's show had been oodles of fun, especially being reunited with Sebastian in the process, but there was still work to be done. Will was bound to wonder where the redhead had snuck off to again, and Grell was not about to endure another suspension. If he played his cards right, Grell might not have to wait as long to see his hellacious heartthrob again.

Indeed, Grell would ensure that he and Sebastian met again. One way or another.

Till death do us part? Grell thought, his cheshire grin as bright, sharp, and dangerous as his precious chainsaw. Dear, sweet Sebas-chan! I am a grim reaper. Death is only the beginning for us~!

The End

A/N: Although I've released a few comical Grell stories, my true love is drama, which I intend to write more of in the future. Consider this dramedy a transitional piece, my shifting from humorous to more serious stories. Not that I'll bid farewell to comedy entirely. Grell's hilarity is often too much fun to pass up! X3

I sincerely hope readers enjoyed this piece. Reviews are always welcome. If you can spare an extra second, please visit my profile and vote in my current Kuroshitsuji poll. Feedback in various forms really helps me out. Thanks for reading!