I ignored Alfred's shrieks of protest as I stormed toward the kitchen. I was set on making a proper cup of tea to calm my nerves before dealing with the bloody scoundrel again. Really, sometimes he can be such a nuisance! In the half hour since I have arrived home, I have already encountered him nearly redecorating the Manor's walls, in a demonstration he called "painting a sign", narrowly avoided him foiling a surprise as he rushed to unload the vehicle, not to mention crushed me to death in a massive greeting he calls a "hug", and discovered the furnace almost burned out completely, which left ME to go out in the cold to fetch more firewood. Not to mention he had now ruined a perfectly good jacket of mine. I really hope the guests show up soon and divert Alfred's attention away from me, because if he keeps annoying me at this rate, then he is going to wind up dead.
I catch sight of a blonde head poking around the corner to peer into the kitchen. I nod to Alfred before I turn to set the kettle on the stove and sit to wait for the water to boil.
Alfred, having determined I have so far managed to not burn the kitchen down, for once seems to sense my mood and seems content to leave me alone in silence as he attempts to inconspicuously busy himself with tasks in the kitchen in order to keep an eye on me. He fails.
"Alfred, would you please stop wiping that counter? This is the fifth time you have gone over it. Just sit down, will you." I snap finally.
He turns and I catch his hurt look in the split second before he covers it up with a grin. He strides over and takes a seat next to me, collapsing his head and arms flat on the tabletop in boredom. He stares at me with those big blue eyes of his, and I feel my cheeks heat up. Only because of the heat of the kitchen of course! Not to mention, how unnerving it is to be stared at by those big and innocent eyes of his. They always look like he is trying to ask me a silent question, imploring me to answer some unspoken comment. I turn away, thankfully, as the kettle announces the boiling water with a loud whistle that breaks our silence.
Alfred sits up suddenly, almost knocking my hand as I pour the boiling water into my teacup, which is already filled with my favorite Darjeeling tealeaves.
"Ahhh! Sorry! I'm so sorry Iggy." He blurts out the words, a mile a minute, as he grabs the kettle before it can spill, and finishes pouring the water into my cup. Alfred purposely avoids my gaze as he sets the kettle down in the middle of the table. He takes a deep breath and gazes straight into my eyes. "I am sorry for everything . . . you know. Not just the tea but, uhhhh . . . .Our fight, earlier, and all . . ." he stumbles awkwardly while rubbing his hand sheepishly through his hair.
Damn it. Why is he so bloody adorable at times like this! I think to myself angrily. How on earth am I supposed to stay mad at him when he is just so . . . Alfred?
Alfred squirms awkwardly under my unwavering glaze, obviously uncomfortable with my silence. I smile to myself as I take a sip of my tea, and decide to put him out of his misery. "It's all right, Alfred. I accept your apology. I suppose I may have overreacted just a tad, as well. I am sorry as well. Now, would you like some tea before our guests arrive?" I say politely to him.
A grin breaks across Alfred's face. "No thanks, but I would love a cup of hot chocolate if we have any! Oh and I am sure I can get the paint out of your jacket if you let me try. We have some soap and oxiclean and . . ." he continues rambling on until my lips meet his.
I smirk as he hungrily presses his lips against mine, his tongue pushing, begging for entry. I pull away just a little, teasingly, before coming back to allow him entry, but soon pushing his tongue aside as I plunge my own into Alfred's soft and plump mouth to explore the sides of his gums. A minute later we pull apart. I can still taste Alfred: a mix of tobacco smoke, chocolate, and hamburger that somehow blends surprisingly well.
"You always do know how to shut me up, don't you Iggy?" Alfred quips with a grin. "Anyways, I made up a list of guests and the rooms to place them in. It is on the hall table if you need it. I am going to go change before I start up dinner. They should be here soon, so if the doorbell rings, be sure to greet them. Try not to be to grumpy!" Alfred said before he strode out of the kitchen and up the back stairs. I nodded at his retreating figure and leaned back to sip my tea while skimming the newspaper.
The front page of the paper declared news of a murder in London. I read the article with mild interest. Hmmmm. The police have reported a shadowy figure in a dark overcoat, light grey scarf, and dark felt hat as being seen leaving the scene of the crime. The murderer is still on the loose, and all citizens are warned to be on the lookout as the individual is very dangerous and has already taken one victim. The woman that was killed . . . I stopped reading as the doorbell rang.
It seemed the first guest had arrived. Leaving my cup of tea unfinished on the table I grabbed the newspaper and stuffed it into my paint splattered overcoat before hanging it up on the coat rack as I headed for the front door. Taking a deep breath I straightened my tie before opening the door to greet our first guest.