This was a request from gamergirl101! Now, I will have it known that I have only seen one episode of Black Butler... but my obsessed sister has watched all of it, so I get, like, all my info from her. XD
Hope this turned out alright! Sorry it's really lame and not creative at all. XP
Disclaimer: Soo, I pretty much just quoted episode one word-for-word, changing a few things around... Sooo, yeah. I don't own any of this. XD
For your knowledge (If you wanna try to guess who plays who, don't read this. XD):
Ciel + Charlie = Charliel
Sebastian + Raphael = Sephael
Finny + Urbain = Finain
Mey-rin + Marie = Mey-Rie
Baldroy + Michael = Michroy
Tanaka + Fondue = Fonduka
"Master, it is time for you to wake up."
The curtains flew back, and the light flooded into the window. Charliel cringed, then opened his eyes, turning his head on the white pillow.
His butler moved to the bedside, lifting the flowered teapot to pour his master's morning cup. "For breakfast today, we have a lightly poached salmon, accompanied by a delicate mint salad." His liquid voice spoke smoothly as he poured.
The master stirred, sitting up beneath the pale covers, a grim expression on his face, his sandy-blonde hair falling over his eyes.
"I can also offer toast, scones, or pan de campagne. Which dish would you care for this morning?"
Yawning, shading his eyes from the morning sun, the boy answered coldly, "A scone."
Within moments, the boy was up, the red-haired butler changing him from his pajamas into his daytime attire.
"Today you have a meeting with Mr. Alan, the authority on the history of the Roman Empire," the butler continued as Charliel picked up his black eye-patch from the nightstand, "and, this evening, Mr. Vergier of the Poseidon Company will be paying you a visit."
"Oh," the young master groaned, standing stiffly as his caretaker's gloved hands fixed his tie. "Is that the man I have in charge of stuffed animals at my factory in India?"
"Yes." The man knelt down, slipping the boy's shoes on his stockinged feet. "I'm told he's French. We will, of course, offer him all the hospitality the estate can provide."
Sitting on the bed, the young master lifted the cup near to his lips, then stopped. "I know this smell. Is this tea Earl Grey?"
"Yes, from Jackson's at Piccadilly." The red-haired butler placed a hand over his chest. "I shall wait for you at the dining table, master." He turned to leave.
The boy's blue-green eye flashed, and, in one swift motion, launched a dart at his servant.
The butler stopped, simply catching the weapon between two fingers. All was silent for a few moments.
"Well thrown, my lord," the butler praised at last. He turned to face his master, his red eyes glowing. "Even so, let's save the games for later."
Charliel sat, eyes wide. Recollecting himself, he turned away, closing his eyes. "Yes. I suppose you're right, Sephael."
"Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Finain cried out as a dart flew threw his straw hat, piercing his skin. Throwing his hands over the wound, he scrambled about, eventually rushing to where his master sat at the dining table. "What was that for, master? What did I do?"
"Nothing," Charliel replied calmly, setting his tea cup on it's saucer. "I don't need to justify my actions."
Finain gasped in pitiful disbelief. Before he could protest, however, the double doors swung open, and Sephael appeared, furious.
"There you are," he snarled. "Have you finished weeding the courtyard, Finain?"
"Uh..."
"Mey-Rie," he continued, turning to the blushing, googly-eyed maid, "have you washed all the bedding?"
She gasped, broken from her love-struck spell. "Um... Well..."
"Michroy, shouldn't you be preparing for tonight's dinner?"
The cook scratched his head, chuckling sheepishly, his cigarette clenched between his teeth.
"Fonduka..." the butler began. The little man stood by, holding a piece of cheese. "Well, I suppose you're alright as you are."
Fonduka chuckled merrily.
"Now, all of you," he glowered, crimson eyes narrowed, "we have no time for thumb twiddling this morning." He motioned a stern hand at them, lightning flying as he spoke. "So get to work!"
The three servants gasped, then scrambled out of the dining room.
"Yes, sir!" Mey-Rie cried as she rushed to work.
Sephael turned to watch them go. "Simply hopeless..."
"The silverware is polished to a sparkly shine. The tablecloth is crisp, clean, and wrinkle-free. There is not a single bruised blossom among master's favorite white roses. And, finally, the highest quality ingredients have been gathered to prepare a first-rate dinner." Sephael danced about as he made preparations for their important guest. "The table is perfection. This will be an elegant Phantomhive length."
Just then, the ringing of a bell interrupted his work. He looked up to see that the call had come from the master's study.
"Still so much to do, and he calls me now?" He left his work to attend to his lord's needs.
Little did he know that three little servants were lurking behind him. They peeked their heads around the corner, watching Sephael disappear down the hall.
"A guest is comin'..." Michroy whispered. He stepped back, crossing his arms. "Alright, then this is our chance." The others turned to him, interested. "Sephael looks down on us all the time. Today will be so perfect, he won't even know what 'it 'im." Dropping his jaw, opening his eyes wide, he made the best mock-surprised sound he could. "Ah! Yeah," he smiled, "that's what he's gonna say."
"Ah!" the others mimicked.
Michroy crossed his arms, scowling. "That's for him to say, not you."
"Ooh!" May-rie cheered. "That's a good idea!" Her glasses shone with excitement."
"Right," Finain agreed. "We have to stop relyin' on Sephael for everything!"
"It's settled, then," the cook beamed. "We've got a plan of attack!"
"Let's get to it!" They cheered in unison, holding their fists high above their heads.
"Now," Sephael smirked, "how exactly did this happen?" He looked out over the wilted garden, then the mess of shattered dishes, then the scorched array in the kitchen.
"I thought things would go faster if I used extra strength weed-killer on the garden," Finain confessed, tears forming in his eyes.
"I was trying to reach the tea set we use for guests," Mey-Rie cried, her glasses cracked, "but I tripped and the cabinet fell!"
"There was a lot of meat to be cooked for dinner, and it was gonna take a long time," Michroy explained, his hair a cloud of over-heated fluff, "so I, uh, used me flame-thrower."
Sephael glared down at them, intimidating the poor servants until they felt as small as ants.
"Ohh!" Finain and Mey-Rie cried desperately. "We're so sorry! We didn't mean to!"Michroy simply stood by, scratching his head. The two continued to chatter miserably, pleading for Sephael's mercy.
Our guest will arrive just after six, the butler reflected. At most, we have two hours left; not enough time to replace the tea set or find premium meats... What should I do? He stood in deep contemplation, the servants rambling on in the background. "Calm down, all of you," he scolded. "Perhaps you should try taking a page out of Fonduka's page and start behaving like-" He stopped, his eyes shooting open.
Everything fell silent as Sephael gazed upon Fonduka's block of cheese.
"Everyone," Sephael stated, "listen closely and do exactly as I say, understand? We must be quick about this." He strode over to Fonduka, taking the cheese from his hand. "We might save this night yet."
It wasn't long before a carriage pulled up to the manor, carrying the Phantomhive guest-Mr Vergier of the Poseidon Company. As he stepped out, the sun shining on his tall top hat, he gasped. "Oh!" he exclaimed, his voice rolling with a rich French accent. "Comment impressionnant!"
The garden was covered in small stones, looking very much like a cobble stone road. In various locations, small patches of delicate grasses and plants stood, accented by stone ornaments of all kinds. The centerpiece of it all: a miniature Eiffel Tower. The path to the manor was lit with strings of lights. It was beautiful.
"Welcome, sir," the servants greeted with a bow.
"This is our little French Garden-" Sephael explained casually, "-a traditional feature of the Phantomhive Estate."
"Prodigieux! Wonderful. Truly an elegant garden," the guest praised, obviously pleased with the little taste of home.
"We thought it appropriate to serve dinner al fresco this evening. Allow me to escort you inside until the meal is ready." The butler waved to Fonduka, who let the man inside.
"Hahaha," Mr. Vergier chuckled. "I should have expected this from a Phantomhive. I cannot wait to see what else is in store!" As he disappeared inside the building, Fonduka closed the door behind him.
"We actually did it," Michroy sighed.
"Who would've thought that a dozen bags of gravel could turn into an amazing garden?!" Finain gaped at the lovely sight.
Sephael walked towards the door, then stopped, casting his gaze back at the trio. "Naturally, we were able to handle this. We serve the Phantomhive family, after all. There's still work to be done," he smiled. "Let's take care of it while the master is talking business with his guest. Look sharp, now."
"Right!" they chimed.
They looked back over the garden, pleased.
"You know," Mey-Rie noted, "this reminds me of someone, but I don't know who..."
"Yeah," Finain agreed. "Me too!"
"Eh," Michroy grunted. "It's not all that important. C'mon. We've got a lot to do if we want to keep Sephael happy. After all, he is one cheese of a butler..."
Okay. That last line was cheesy (UNITENTIONAL PUN XDXDXDXDXD), but I had to throw a little more RT in there, just for good measure. XD
Thank you, gamergirl, for my first request! Sorry it took so long! I hope you liked it okay! (Again, sorry it was kinda lame. XP)
Thank you all for reading!
God bless! (Feels weird putting this at the end of a Black Butler fic, but still. XD)
-LittleBrotherSocket
