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Devilish Impulses	By : Arianawray Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 13948 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Unwanted
- 2-Whim
- 3-Trust
- 4-Taste
- 5-Scheme
- 6-Command
- 7-Competition
- 8-Advice
- 9-Enlightenment
- 10-Sustenance
- 11-Caught
- 12-Breath
- 13-Arms
- 14-Inflammation
- 15-Imagination
- 16-Intent
- 17-Compromise
- 18-Sacrifice
- 19-Despair
- 20-Compassion
- 21-Interest
- 22-Equality
- 23-Mentor
- 24-History
- 25-Disorder
- 26-Reputation
- 27-Gifts
- 28-Admission
- 29-Watching
- 30-Bonds
- 31-Revelations
- 32-Confrontation
- 33-Struggle
- 34-Separation
- 35-Duty
- 36-Change
- 37-Together
- 38-Love
- 39-Epilogue: Heaven
- 37
- 38
- 39
Love

Elizabeth thanks Paula and dismisses her with a smile after the maid has helped her with her bath and dressing for bed, and removed all the pins from her hair.

"Good night, my lady," the ever-cheerful and faithful Paula says as she leaves the room.

"Good night, Paula."

The countess leans across her side of the bed to the nightstand. She snuffs the candle in the glass lamp, lies down, and pulls the covers up to her chest. She stares at the canopy of her poster bed till her eyes adjust to the darkness, relieved only by the flames that still flicker in the fireplace. Summer it may be, and the days are long, but the closed drapes shut out the last glow of twilight that would otherwise enter the room.

It has been six days since Sebastian returned to the house. She cannot imagine that the place has ever been cleaner, or better run. She cannot remember the entire household being this happy since each of the children was born. Ciel has had an immense weight lifted off him, after years of stoically enduring the burden of not knowing Sebastian's fate. The staff are in good spirits, for the new steward takes on the tasks they cannot manage. Tanaka is sick and unlikely to recover, but he is smiling as he fades. And the children, always fascinated by Carsten, are equally intrigued by the tall, handsome figure in black who is impeccably proper and gentle with them.

She wants to believe it is all perfect, but she cannot lie to herself. This is not easy for her. No woman who loves her husband wants to share him with another lover.

They have been extremely discreet out of respect for her and consideration for the children, but a wife knows things no one else does. She knows when her husband comes to her and when he does not, and what they do when they are alone. She knows.

She and Ciel have mostly shared his parents' old bedroom since they married. This is primarily her room, though she has another of her own for times when she needs privacy, or to dress more elaborately for parties. Ciel too retains the bedroom of his childhood for his dressing and bath needs. They have on occasion slept separately since becoming man and wife, when either was unwell and did not wish to disturb the other's rest; or when Ciel would come home very late from underworld missions covered in someone else's blood and not want to unsettle her. For the most part, though, he has spent his nights here or visited her for part of the night, as respectable men do. Her own parents, loving as they are, do not always sleep in the same bed. She has grown up knowing that husbands and wives from good families are not expected to mimic the habits of poor married couples, who have nowhere else but a shared bed to tumble into together. Nobles are supposed to be different.

She half-wishes she could say that she is unhappy because Ciel has neglected her since Sebastian returned, or that he has not come to her bed since that day. She wishes she could say it, for it would be a reason for this mild discontentment. But she cannot resort to that cheap excuse, for it is untrue.

Ciel has not neglected her. He has spent at least part of every night here, with her. He has been an attentive and loving husband, a good companion to her as always, talking of the children, the mundane matters of the household, the intriguing matters of the court and the underworld, laughing with her at jokes they have heard, about people they know. He is as tender to her as ever.

He has broken no vows either, for theirs was a civil marriage begun at a register office. It was highly unusual for people of their rank, but the straightforward promises required in such ceremonies were the most acceptable to them both. After the registration before a clerk in her parents' presence, they held a grand celebration at her father's house, which the Prince of Wales attended, and where John Jarvis read a sermon. But Ciel never made any oaths before God or man that he would cleave only to her or forsake all others.

He has broken no promises. He loves her; he loves their children. He touches her as he always did since she became his wife – intimately, lovingly, affectionately, giving her everything that so many women hope for from their aristocratic husbands but never receive.

"I am very blessed," she sighs.

A shadow crosses her window on silent wings. Carsten, making his nocturnal rounds.

With two devils present and loyal to the household, she feels extremely safe. These are not the evil creatures who attacked their little human group inside that mysterious sphere ten years ago; these demons defied their brethren to protect those who could not defend themselves. Elizabeth finds herself thinking of devils, angels, heaven and God. If she were particularly religious, she would have insisted on a church wedding. But her mother was always leery of formal religions, which have sometimes been hostile to her birth family, and raised her children to be cautious about the church. Still, Lizzie knows her religious texts and has great respect for Vicar Jarvis. So she allows herself to indulge in the fancy that Sebastian and Carsten, having turned against hell, might one day recover some measure of salvation.

One never knows, she thinks, and she finds herself smiling into the darkness. Wishing for something good for someone else always gives her pleasure and a lighter heart. She sighs again, but with better cheer this time. She knew what she was walking into from the start. She knew what would happen. She really cannot complain. How ungrateful it would be of her to be bitter about this, and how futile.

Galvanised by her turn of thought, she sits up, throws the covers off, swings her legs over the side of the bed, and strikes a match to re-light the candle in the lamp. Driven by her positive impulses, she pulls out writing paper from the desk drawer, ink and a fountain pen, and starts scribbling a note to her mother.

Dearest Mother,

This is but a short note to inform you of what you doubtless already know: Sebastian Michaelis has returned to the Phantomhive household. Though I have not heard a word from you about this matter, I am certain that you are planning to do something about it.

Therefore, I am writing to tell you very plainly that I am entirely contented with his return to the manor, and it is my hope that whatever you plan to do will be in harmony with my feelings on the matter.

This is my household, Mother, and I shall run it the way I consider best. I pray you will not contradict my plans for my home and all who dwell in it.

With all my love,

Elizabeth

As she signs off with a satisfied flourish and starts blowing on the ink so it will dry faster, a knock comes at the door, and Ciel enters.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now," he says in surprise, coming up to her at the desk to put his arms around her and kiss her shining fall of golden hair. "What are you doing?"

"Just writing a quick note to my mother."

"At this hour? Come to bed – the wind's up outside. We're in for a heavy summer rainstorm tonight."

"One moment," she murmurs, folding up the letter and inserting it into an envelope. "I wanted to fire this off while I was in the mood. I suddenly thought it would be good to remind her that this is our family and our home, not hers."

"You're thinking of Sebastian, aren't you?"

"I am."

"She suspected that he and I were unusually close ten years ago, but she's never said a word."

"Only because Sebastian hasn't been heard from in ten years. Now that he is back, I am certain she is waiting for a suitable time to say something. I am doing all I can to keep her quiet."

"You don't have to do this."

"I know," she smiles brightly. "That's why it makes me happy to do it."

He presses his mouth to hers, making her squeal when he lifts her swiftly into his arms and carries her off to bed.

She knows he will leave her while she sleeps. To go to him. He may return to her before she wakes. She will be unconscious of his absence, in all probability. But she will know, anyway.

Still, she has his love and affection, and that is more than she often thought she would ever have when they were children and she was the one always running after him while he fled from her emotionally and literally.

As she returns his kisses and welcomes his advances for more, she promises herself that she will be happy with everything she has, and never be stupid enough to lament the few things she does not.

It is not perfect, but nothing in life ever is.

It is not perfect, but without Sebastian's sacrifice, there would be nothing for her here.

It is not perfect, but it has to be enough.

***

Sebastian lies on his back on the comfortable bed in his new bedroom, listening to the sound of the rain outside. Devils have no need for the material trappings of humans, but he appreciates deeply that it is a tremendous improvement from his situation of the last ten years, and from his humble butler's bed before that.

Comfort, pleasure and sleep are luxuries he can survive without, but they are most welcome when he can have them. For years inside the sphere, his powers were so unstable that he could not perform the simplest demonic magic or any of Ambrose's magic without the risk of pushing himself over the edge. Ciel's magical gifts of grass, trees, gentle light, pleasing landscaping and cool water were his only luxuries, and they helped his healing along more than his devilish pride had initially wished to admit.

Only in his last few years in that prison, when true healing and recovery were underway, was he able to safely call into being items like proper new garments for his use.

It was also in those years of healing that he was able to take pride in never having attempted to bargain with God during his countless hours of agony for any relief or benefit to himself. He could have yielded, could have been tempted by his suffering to offer anything in exchange for the smallest reprieve. He could have promised never to touch the boy again, never to devour another soul, never to take another life, to spend the next fifty thousand years doing penance for his millennia of sin. He could have turned bitter, resenting the child, stewing in hatred for the petty mortals for whom he had done so much, turning rancid like Azazel.

However, he did none of that in his hours of pain, and he would do none of it in his hours of healing. He remains proud of his refusal to yield to weakness or hate, and he can think back calmly on those years.

But there is something he does not like to look back on from his imprisonment in the sphere. He will never admit it to anyone else, but while he was there, he did wrestle with God in his own way, like Jacob on the bank of the Jabbok, only not in any physical sense. It was a combat of the spirit different from that of the hopeless revolt in which he was first dismissed from heaven. There was a kind of communication – grudging on his part, while the motivations of the Other were opaque to him.

He spoke the truth when he told Ciel that he did not know what was behind Azazel's message that hell was not to harm him or Ciel. Indeed, he does not know – he cannot be certain. But somewhere deep in his mind, he thinks of how his tainted spirit wrestled with the impossible purity of God's spirit, and he wonders...

So much of any creature's existence depends on negotiation. The negotiation may be verbal, but may just as well be conducted in gestures, the attitude of the body, in mute exchanges and silent understanding – things the beasts of the field instinctively understand as they champion their own existence within their packs and herds and flocks. Humans, demons and angels negotiate in all those ways, and through words and the spirit too.

He is engaged in a long and elaborate negotiation, whether he likes it or not, whether he is always consciously aware of it or not. Appropriate punishment, perhaps, for his once engaging Ciel in a battle for two days without informing him they were in a duel – until the clever child worked it out for himself and promptly slapped him.

He is negotiating with Lady Elizabeth for time with her husband; with Ciel for opportunities to serve him better and give him greater pleasure; with the children for the right to be in their lives, so their father will not be torn between any of his loved ones; with the staff for the authority to command them without offending them, so that Ciel will not be made unhappy over any discontentment in his manor.

He may also be negotiating for something even bigger, unheard of in the history of angels and demons, unheard of in the history of humankind, something without precedent. Can he be as cunning as the child was at the age of thirteen, to change the arrangement of the chessboard so he could win the game? But the child only had a devil as his opponent, whereas that very devil's own opponent now is infinitely more vast than himself. Cunning is of no use in this unknown game...

The door of his bedroom clicks open. He does not have to look to know who is there. He already knew he was coming, even while deep in thought. While imprisoned, he had been concerned that he might lose his ability to tell where Ciel was if he ever returned to the mortal realm. But from the moment he left the sphere, he sensed at once his master's location. Ciel has grown quite clever with magic, and sometimes disguises his whereabouts for a few minutes, but he always breaks through his playful smokescreens to pinpoint him eventually.

Here he is now, coming to him in the middle of this windblown night with a lamp, climbing into his bed. There he lies on his side, gazing at him contentedly out of his eyes of heavenly blue, taking the greatest pleasure simply in being with him.

Sebastian looks back at him with what he is certain is greater pleasure. The young man's human eyes cannot make out colour or great detail in such poor lighting, but his demon's eyes see everything – the healthy flush of youth on those cheeks, the perfect cerulean hue of his irises with only a mote of magenta in the right, the faint lines on his skin that will over the decades deepen into the wrinkles and creases of old age.

"You could have summoned me to your room and spared yourself the walk," Sebastian murmurs.

"I know. But I got used to not calling out to you while we were apart all those years."

"I felt you calling me sometimes."

"Yes, sometimes I forgot that I shouldn't. I hated to think that by calling to you, I would hurt you, because you might hear and suffer the pain of not being able to come to me. I forced myself not to think of or speak your name in such a way that might be considered as summoning you."

"I liked hearing your call," Sebastian tells him. "It hurt not to be able to respond, but it pleased me to hear it from time to time. It was only fair that I should sometimes feel the pull of your call, for I was able to sense the kisses and caresses you sent me, and the words of affection. They were two sides of the same coin."

"I'll be happy to summon you all you like from now on. But don't forget that I sometimes like making my way to you too. I have since I was thirteen, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he asks, deciding there and then that he will negotiate with God another day. For now, he wants himself and Ciel to be left alone to sin.

They meet in the middle of the bed for a kiss. He can taste Elizabeth on Ciel's breath, on his tongue, on his lips. Her scent and flavour do not offend him, for she is of Ciel's blood, and she has given the earl two beautiful children who have helped to heal their father's heart.

The kiss progresses into another playful and combative session of lovemaking in which Sebastian permits Ciel to take him. It will often be better this way, for his immortal body will sustain no damage while deriving considerable pleasure from the act, whereas Ciel's human body may not be able to cope with too-frequent penetration. The young man will simply have to put his mouth and hands to good use...

Ciel is about to collapse into an exhausted sleep when Sebastian suddenly moves at devilish speed to dress them both in a second, throw a surprised Ciel over his shoulder, and fly upstairs so fast that before he knows it, the earl is deposited back into his equally astonished wife's bed.

"Sebastian! What...?" Ciel and Lizzie both cry out.

But the devil lights the lamp so that they can see him, puts a finger over his lips with a smile, and whispers: "My lord, my lady, the storm outside is making Lord Winterbourn nervous. He is coming down the passageway."

The steward vanishes behind a screen as the door handle turns, and little Vincent appears in the doorway.

"Mama?" the child whispers. "Papa?"

"What is it, darling?" Lizzie asks.

"Please may I sleep in your bed for a while?" the boy asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but unable to disguise the faint tremor in it as the wind howls outside.

"Come here," Ciel calls, as Lizzie holds her arms out. The child runs to their bed, scrambles over the covers between them, and burrows under the blanket, safe between his parents.

At the same time, a loud wail comes down the corridor, and a flustered Vidya, who sleeps in Rachel's room to tend to her feeding and changing needs at night, stumbles into the doorway with the toddler in her arms.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, my lord," the nursemaid says. "Lord Winterbourn entered Lady Rachel's room a moment ago to see if she was frightened by the storm, and that woke her. After he left her room, she started crying that she wanted to be with him..."

"Bring her here," Lizzie laughs. "She can sleep here tonight too."

Vidya hands the child to her mother and leaves the room, closing the door after her.

Rachel gurgles happily, snuggles up to her brother, and falls asleep with Lizzie's hand resting on her head. Vincent stays awake longer, scoffing sleepily at his sister: "What a baby."

Ciel smiles down at his son, who tries to be haughty even when he is just as much of a baby as his sibling. He remembers how he sought comfort in his parents' bed when he himself was a child. How he missed that sense of unconditional love and security for years, and how much it means to him to be able to provide the same love and security to his children. He would never have any of this if not for the silent figure behind the screen.

When at last Vincent too is deep in sleep, Sebastian emerges from his hiding place and approaches the bed to gaze at the children.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Ciel whispers. "For everything."

"Good night, my lord, my lady."

"Sebastian," Lizzie calls softly.

"Yes, my lady?" he asks, going over to her side of the bed so that she will not have to speak any louder, lest she wake the children.

She takes his hand and pulls lightly at his arm, indicating by the pressure that he should bend down towards her. Thinking she wishes to whisper something, he leans down close to her, only to be surprised by a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you for letting my children find both their parents here tonight," she says with the utmost gratitude. "Thank you for all that I have. Now give Ciel a goodnight kiss before you go."

He looks deeply into her eyes and sees that she has gone through a struggle which she is very likely to go through over and over again as long as she lives. He kisses her back – a gentle peck on the lips – then leans across her and the children and kisses Ciel goodnight.

He blows out the lamp for them and leaves the room with a smile, vanishing in the doorway so that Vidya or anyone else who may be in the passageway will not see that he has been there at all.

***

In the morning, Ciel leaves for London with Sebastian. The devil takes the reins, so they will be alone. The family knows they will be away for a few days, for Ciel has Funtom business to attend to. To the children, it is merely work that will take their father away for a while. To Lizzie, it is an opportunity for Ciel and Sebastian to spend time alone in the town house – and also the first time in ten years that Jarvis, Prince Soma, Agni and Mey-Rin will see Sebastian.

Their friends in London do not know that he has returned; Ciel has kept it a secret, wishing to surprise them. They are the ones who normally make their way to the manor every week, but last week, they decided to invite Ciel and Lizzie to London, although Lizzie chose to remain at home with the children while Ciel went. This time, Ciel telephoned them again to say he would see them in the city.

The elegantly dressed master and his black-clad demon wave goodbye to the family and staff, and nod to Carsten as they pass him in the forest. Up to London they go, traversing the familiar paths, Sebastian noting the changes in the buildings around him, and the greater number of motor vehicles on the roads. Ciel puts his head out of the window once in a while purely for the pleasure of seeing his devil up there on the box seat – a sight he has not enjoyed in a decade.

They pull up in front of Soma's London house. Agni, despite owning property and being very rich, has always considered himself his prince's devoted slave. Only in recent years has Soma at last convinced the man to regard himself as a friend, and to accept the fact that the hired servants in the house are supposed to serve him and Mey-Rin too.

So it is a butler Sebastian has never met who opens the door to them and shows them into the drawing room. And it is in the drawing room that complete and utter pandemonium erupts when Sebastian enters behind Ciel.

Soma, much more mature and manly at twenty-eight – but not so much that he refrains from screaming like a child now – flings himself at Sebastian, while Mey-Rin shrieks, Agni gasps in delight, and Jarvis laughs with pure joy and surprise.

"Sebastian!"

"Mister Sebastian!"

"Ohhhh... Mister Sebastian!"

"My dear friend."

To those heartfelt greetings, Sebastian replies simply but sincerely: "I am immensely pleased to set eyes on all of you again."

The hired servants are sent out of the room. A hundred questions are asked of Sebastian and Ciel, and a hundred answers given honestly. Greater discretion is needed in the dining room while they have lunch, for the servants are present. But what needs to be said is said, and what the humans wish to express to Sebastian is more than adequately conveyed in their looks, smiles, tears and laughter. They tell him of their lives since he was last with them. Soma's pieces of property are doing extremely well; he is quite the wealthy prince now, and has even been able to return to his father the capital sum he gave him. Agni is his business partner and remains his constant, devoted companion.

Children are normally barred from these weekly meetings so the grown-ups can talk, but the Brahmin and Mey-Rin bring their children downstairs to meet Sebastian. The devil has the pleasure of discerning that the two boys, aged five and four, are both as good-natured as their parents, and endowed with their striking looks.

Jarvis is older and greyer, but reports that he remains in excellent health. What pleases him more is that many of the poorer people of his parish are doing well, for Lord Phantomhive has given some of them steady employment in his toy factory, confectioners' shops and restaurants, and funded the schooling expenses of those children whose parents are unable or unwilling to work, giving the young ones hope and an opportunity to rise above their circumstances.

Sebastian gives Ciel a sideway glance, which Ciel refuses to return, for he does not like admitting that having his own family has at last made his long resistance against his compassionate instincts futile.

After lunch and more conversation, Ciel decides it is time for them to leave, and offers Jarvis a ride back to the vicarage. Soma quickly gives them his driver's services for the day, so that Sebastian can sit inside the carriage with Ciel and the vicar. The teary-eyed prince impulsively embraces the devil again before he lets him go. Once, he would never have dared to hug Sebastian, but he is very happy to see him again, and the years have made him braver.

"I have truly missed our regular meetings, Mister Michaelis," Jarvis says, when they have waved goodbye to their friends and the carriage is in motion. The vicar is sitting beside Ciel, facing forward, while Sebastian sits across from them.

"I too have missed the talks we had," the demon admits.

"I never knew of those regular meetings until Mister Jarvis told me about them one day, a few months after you were sealed into the sphere," Ciel sighs, giving Sebastian a sharp look. "You did lots of things behind my back."

"It was all for your good, Young Master."

"If you ever do anything for my good again without explaining it to me immediately, I shall have something to say about it," Ciel warns.

"I tremble in fear," Sebastian remarks with irony.

"You say that so coolly, yet I know how badly you feared that Lord Phantomhive would come to harm, or that he would hate you, and never live his life in a fulfilling way," Jarvis laughs.

"Is that so, now?" Ciel exclaims mischievously, his handsome face above the fine white silk cravat suddenly looking less like that of a twenty-four-year-old man's than a cheeky boy's. But in opposition to his teasing tone of voice, he reaches out and takes Sebastian's hand. Both of them are wearing black leather gloves; there is no skin-to-skin contact, yet it is a tender and intimate gesture, and Jarvis glances away from them with a smile, looking out of the window at the passing sights of central London until they unclasp their hands.

When they reach the vicarage, Ciel shoos them out of the carriage, saying: "Go have another of your secret talks behind my back. I'm off to inspect the new bakery that Funtom opened a five-minute drive from here. I'll call for you, Sebastian, when I'm ready!"

With that, he pulls the carriage door shut and gives Soma's coachman the name of the road to drive to.

Sebastian enters the vicarage to learn that Tomkin the ginger cat has passed away, along with at least half of the other original feline "Apostles", for many of them were street cats that Jarvis had adopted when they were already well along in cat years.

"I was quite upset when Tomkin died four years ago," Jarvis confesses, after he has made them some tea. "It felt as if the very final remnant of my daughter had left me. But something wonderful happened a week after that. My son-in-law, Richard, returned from India, with an orphaned child of mixed race whom he had adopted – an illegitimate son of one of his fellow-soldiers who was killed in a conflict in Kabul. He has resigned his commission and lives only two streets away now. He visits me every day with the child. He has never remarried, but what an excellent father he makes. The little boy is not my flesh and blood, nor his, but he has come to be my grandson. I feel as if Nellie has returned in spirit through her husband, and through the child Richard took in out of kindness."

"I am truly happy for you, Mister Jarvis," Sebastian says. "Truly."

"I thank you for your good thoughts. You must meet Richard and the child one day. Whatever else has changed in my life, though, I have not stopped taking in cats, as you can see!"

Indeed, the house is as full of cats as ever, though the newer ones are not named after the Apostles, but have the names of places from the Bible, like Jordan, Galilee, Nazareth, Ephesus, Galatia and Beth, for Bethlehem.

Nazareth jumps lightly onto Sebastian's lap, and the devil takes much pleasure in stroking the white-coated beauty with yellow-green eyes. While he admires the cat, Jarvis walks to the other end of the small house, unlocks a desk drawer, and takes out the silver disc that the demon gave him ten years ago.

"I'll return this to you, Sebastian," the vicar says, coming back to where the devil is seated. "I think you will be here for Lord Phantomhive from now on, and won't need my old bones to rush to his rescue any more."

"Thank you, Mister Jarvis," Sebastian receives the disc from him, mirroring the process that took place in this house the day after Ciel's fourteenth birthday.

"You really did everything in your power to ensure that he would be safe and well even without you by his side, didn't you?" the vicar observes. "I never told him about what else you did for him where I was concerned, beyond explaining about the disc. You asked me to keep it secret, and I did."

"I am grateful for that."

"If he did not already know how much you love him, I would tell him – about the prayers you asked me to pray, about the protection from other demons that you asked me to request on his behalf, about all the things to do with a God you say you forsook and betrayed, just to keep him safe. About the letters addressed to the Prince of Wales that you left with a lawyer in the event that you did not return before His Royal Highness became king. But I see that Lord Phantomhive knows how great your love is, so I will not have to be the one to tell him these things."

"Love, Mister Jarvis?" Sebastian says. "Devils do not love. We may feel some manner of affection or tenderness, protectiveness or possessiveness, but we have forgotten how to love."

"Is that so now?" the vicar asks, echoing Ciel, raising his greying eyebrows somewhat dramatically. "Really?"

"Of course," Sebastian states.

"Very well, if you say so," the man remarks cheerfully, picking up a brown-ticked cat and sitting down in his armchair to feed the cat a biscuit. "Then I shall instead say this to you, Sebastian Michaelis: For the mercy you showed that child at the very beginning, when he tells me you could have taken his life and his soul, and for the mercy you have shown him since that time, when you could have harmed him over and over again, may you be richly blessed."

"My sparing him at the beginning of our second contract was really no more than an impulse," Sebastian says.

"Even the least of impulses originates from something deeper and greater inside us."

"I suppose you will tell me now that it was compassion and love?" Sebastian remarks.

"All of us – human, angel or demon – fall into the habit of thinking of ourselves in certain terms," Jarvis replies. "We are reluctant to believe ourselves capable of profound change. I thought of myself for decades as a man who loved dogs but disliked cats. When I took Tomkin in after Nellie died, I still thought of myself as no lover of cats, believing I was caring for this cat only because he had belonged to my daughter, and was her only 'child'. But the creature grew in my affections as the months passed, and lo and behold, one day I realised that I had become a man who was very fond of cats. Perhaps in the same way, Sebastian, you are a devil who has truly learnt to love."

"Very well, if you say so," it is Sebastian's turn to playfully echo the vicar's words from a minute ago, though he makes it plain from his amused tone that he is not convinced. "But you surely do not approve of the manner in which I express my love to the young man, and how he chooses to express his affection for me?"

"I said to you years ago that as a man of the church, I cannot approve. But as a friend, I feel for you, I understand, and I empathise."

"What of your religion's belief that many angels turned to demons long ago precisely because they consorted far too intimately with humans, the way I consort with the young man?"

"I believe you could tell me the truth of that far better than I can tell it to you."

"Angels have fallen for many more reasons than that over the course of eternity."

"I would imagine so."

"And for none of those reasons is there any forgiveness."

"I was taught – and I believe – that forgiveness is always there, waiting for us, but we lack the readiness to receive it until we humbly repent."

"But devils – and earls of Phantomhive – do not repent of the things they do."

"Then devils and earls of Phantomhive, with all their cunning and arcane knowledge and peculiar love, must perhaps find for themselves worlds that fall between the absolute lines of heaven, earth and hell."

"You are a very wise man, Mister Jarvis," Sebastian smiles. "You have very nearly read my mind there."

"And you are a very kind demon, Mister Michaelis. When the time comes, you will have to think of the salvation of the young man's soul, whatever that may mean to you and to him."

"I am aware of that. When the time comes, I shall have to follow my impulses," the devil says wryly.

"May God bless you, Sebastian Michaelis."

The devil stares at the vicar in astonishment before recovering his equanimity to smile and comment: "What a thing to say."

Sebastian! comes the call from where Ciel is waiting and ready for him.

Sebastian rises, takes his leave of John Jarvis, and bids him a respectful goodbye at the door. Watched affectionately by the vicar, he moves up the road away from the churchyard, travelling swiftly and steadily towards Ciel, steering his course by the sound of his master's voice.
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Devilish Impulses