Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

I have been away from this fandom for a while. Hope I am not too rusty. After the little success of stuffing Hugue and team in dresses, here is one from the Rozenkruez Orden. Rated for suggestive talk from Isaak and Dietrich. This is inspired by RCO Radio Hour.

The Sitter - The Sitter Cometh

"The problem with you, Dietrich, is that you cannot be trusted to carry out a simple mission without making a mess of it." A fifth cigarillo was stubbed in the ashtray. "How the hell did you end up in a gay brothel in Venice?"

"I ran out of cash," the brown-haired youth crossed his legs defiantly. "Told you I needed more…"

"To fritter away at the casino? You steal my wine, cologne and books whenever the chance presents itself…" Isaak slid out from behind his oak desk and advanced on his protégé. "Don't imagine for a minute that I cannot smell you in my study…" He bent down and pressed his nose into those soft brown locks he was so fond of. Yes, it was his scent alright. Eau de Temptation by that exclusive perfumer he patronized. Ill at ease, Dietrich pushed weakly against his chest, a reminder of a mere Terran's physical weakness in the face of a Methuselah.

"I have a little proposition for you," Isaak purred, still holding Dietrich's head against his chest. "What? The bed, bath or over the desk right now?" the Terran murmured. "Do you wish to spank me as well?"

"Nothing so vulgar. Just a small mission for you to carry out. A little challenge. I bet you can't last one night without messing up… Babysitting the Duchess of Crimea's twin sons while I accompany the lady to an opera. No wires allowed. If it weren't for your brains and your wires, you are nobody."

"What? That's it? If I carry it off, Isaak, would you be so kind as to serve tea at the next Orden meeting in drag?" Dietrich smirked evilly. He bet Isaak's long silky tresses would go with a dress.

"Deal it is. If you mess up, you will dress as a Bavarian barmaid and serve tea at the next meeting," Isaak patted Dietrich on the head.

The Duchess of Crimea's residence…

In the rose garden, a brown-haired boy kicked a ball around. His blue eyes peered upwards occasionally. Finally, he could not keep silent further.

"Ivan, what's up?" Dimitri Flamevogel called out to his elder twin who was perched precariously on a high branch. "Mother's suitor number 54," Ivan smirked. "Tall, thin, pale man with long black hair like a woman's and no imperial title to his name. Inviting Mother to tonight's opening night of Lohengrin. Not a chance with Mother, I say."

"Nah, mother wouldn't leave us home alone, will she? Not after we set fire to the greenhouse," Dimitri aimed a kick in the direction of the final resting place of their Automaid Nanny. Firecrackers do have a damaging effect on circuits.

"Natasha, dear, I understand that due to unforeseen circumstances you are a little understaffed in your household," Isaak bowed charmingly. The Duchess Natasha was not too impressed though. "Cut the mindless civilities, von Kampfer. I simply can't go to the opera this evening with you because I must keep an eye on my little darlings…" She turned away and promptly popped a vein at the sight of her son hanging from the tree by his arms. She opened the window and…

"Ivan or Dimitri! How many times must I absolutely forbid you from climbing the elm tree? You are so totally grounded, young man!"

Ivan released his grip on the branch and fell ten metres onto his twin below. "Run for it!" The duo made a mad dash for the garden maze.

"My, my, they can be quite a handful…" Isaak chuckled. Maybe he would win his bet with Dietrich sooner that he thought.

"A Terran babysitter! Mother set us up with a Terran!" Dimitri complained as he pored over the 167th page of his homework. "No knifes, axes or guns. Phooey. Terrans are too fragile… Remember the time that Radu what's-his-name babysat?"

"Yeah, that little booby-trap we set up on the grand stairs nearly sliced him clean through at the waist. Took him the whole evening to recover…" Ivan dipped his quill into the inkwell and practised his calligraphy.

"What we did to Radu was a bit excessive, don't you think? I mean, he does let us stay up late to watch the scary movies…" Dimitri started work on page 168. "But that Asta-witch is too smart for us… Thank goodness she's away for a while. She let us play with her pet tigress, or rather, let her tigress play with us."

"You have to admit tiger-riding can be very challenging," Ivan scratched his head in frustration as he accidentally made an inkblot on his homework.

DING-Dong! "I do believe our sitter is here. Come on, let's be on our best behaviour," Ivan licked his fingers and slicked back his brown hair. Dimitri straightened his tie. The pair waited. The duchess stepped into the pair's schoolroom with a youth.

"Boys, this is Dexter Butler," the lady introduced. "This is Ivan and this is Dimitri." She paused to pat her elegant coif and rearrange a stray ribbon in her do. "You boys play nice, okay? No television or video games till after your homework, all of it. Then only 1 hour of TV or videogames max. Dinner will be served at seven. No dessert if you do not finish your greens. No snacks allowed. Bedtime is at nine-thirty. Bath must be taken before bedtime. No staying up late for the horror shows…" Both boys started yawning. It was the same lecture every time.

"Are you listening?" The duchess whacked both her sons on the head with her ivory fan. "Yes, Madre…"

Dietrich smirked, not believing his luck. The children looked like that type who would spend the evening doing their homework and obeying Mama's instructions to the letter.

They were identical, with the same light brown hair as their mother, and the same ice-blue eyes. Dietrich guessed their ages to be between ten and twelve. They were slender, with a natural poise that marked them as imperial nobility of high status. They were clad in identical white shirts, breeches and vests. A sign of their parent's perchance for Western fashion instead of Byzantium wear. More importantly, neither of them have the fangs all Methuselah sprout on their turning.

"Well, now, play nice with him. No violent games like you play with Radu… I would expect Herr Kampfer to send me back by midnight," the duchess gave her sons each a peck on the forehead. She turned to Dietrich. "Butler, if anything crops up, you can reach me at this cell number…" she handed a piece of paper to the babysitter.

"Enjoy your dinner, Mother," Ivan rubbed his forehead where he had been kissed. "Enjoy the opera," Dimitri returned his mother's kiss with one on the back of her gloved hand in mimicry of the court etiquette they had observed with regards to their elders.

"See you then…" the haughty duchess lifted her trailing skirts and glided out of the room. She missed the conspiring looks the twins exchanged. Dietrich did not. He caught the glint of potential mischief in those bright blue eyes and wondered what he had gotten himself into. The duchess paused to give some last minute instructions to the Automaid cook before leaving in the grand carriage with Isaak.

Arabian Nights Den a.k.a. illegal brothel, Byzantinum

Radu Barvon was celebrating his new appointment in the imperial court in the company of a frisky pair of Terran fillies when he was rudely interrupted by his cell phone's ringing. "Hello, Baron of Luxor, Radu…" he drawled, trying to ignore the sensual dance moves of one of the said fillies in his lap.

"Cut the crap, Barvon. What can you tell me about babysitting the Flamevogel twins?" It was Dietrich from the Orden.

"Those brats from hell? Why? Has Herr Isaak volunteered you as their babysitter? I'm kinda busy now…" Radu goggled at those generous boobs bouncing before his face when the lap-dancer stripped off her skimpy bra. Her partner was doing a titillating striptease on the bed.

"Never mind that!"

"I would recommend you use those wires of yours to tie them up or something… Goodbye!" Radu hung up. "Ready or not, ladies, here I come!" The ladies squealed as the eager baron joined the party. On hearing the dial tone, Dietrich swore to yank out the baron's innards with a silver meat hook.

Author's Notes:

I have brought back the twins from hell. I am making some big assumptions here that televisions, cell phones and video games are existent in the Trinity Blood universe. Will Dietrich prevail? Or will the twins make a monkey out of him? Will Isaak have the pleasure of seeing Dietrich in drag?