Meringue
After the bloodshed and carnage; the newly-named Sebastian Michaels went to his newly-attained, half-conscious and bleeding Young Master, dressed his wounds and brought him to a nearby inn that catered to the nobility.
He got them a room easily; even the money-minded innkeeper had space for compassion in his heart. (Besides, the impeccable cut of cloth that Sebastian wore implied that the half-naked little boy draped in a cloak, sleeping in the butler's arms, came from a rich family.)
When Ciel Phantomhive finally regained consciousness after a few days, Sebastian was waiting beside him.
"Young Master, I have disposed of your enemies. What further deeds do you require me to do?"
Sebastian had speculated about this for those few days. He'd narrowed the list down to four things—Ciel's family returning—an impossibility even for a demon butler; rebuilding the mansion—which couldn't be done in less than a week; revenge for Ciel's family—which Sebastian had thought most likely; and world domination—which though unlikely in a small boy, was always on the top ten list of human requests.
Sebastian took a look at Ciel's face, which was decidedly leaning towards anger—and the latter two choices—and grinned wickedly at the thought of how much this soul would be stained at the end of Ciel's life.
After this period of deliberation, Ciel spoke.
"A lemon meringue pie."
Sebastian was momentarily stunned for one of the very few instances in his long life.
"A what?"
Ciel shot him a scathing look, "You're now the Phantomhive butler, and you can't do that?"
"I beg your pardon, Young Master. I had assumed that—"
"Don't assume things. It's un-butler-like. Get me a lemon meringue pie." The young boy lay back on his pillows, shutting his eyes, looking rather smug to Sebastian.
"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian said, his hand placed perfectly over his heart, feeling annoyed for the first time. He would become a perfect butler; if only to wipe that smug look of the little… human's face.
Already, the world as he knew it was changing.