Disclaimer: The events that will transpire are intended to entertain you, the reader. If you feel that these events are highly unlikely or purely stupid, it's because it is meant to be. Hence why the genre is humor. In other words, don't be trollin'. Enjoy the chapter!
Rated T cuz Mer's a big perv. You are warned.
III. The Baker, Hired
Once I got the appropriate ingredients and measurements, I got to work. However, it was hard to concentrate. Sebastian was…hovering, to say the least, but I didn't mind. As long as I got a gander of that gluteus maximus of his, I was perfectly content. The dessert I was making was called Baba au Rhum, a cake with apricots, soaked in rum and a syrup made from sugar and water.
Sebastian wasn't my only spectator, though.
Three other servants and an older butler joined him, so that kind of foiled my plan to try and make contact with the head butler's assets, if you know what I mean.
"Who's she, Mr. Sebastian?" asked the boy with the high-pitched voice.
"She's not my replacement, is she?" said the other male, his voice lower in pitch and sounding threatened.
"Will she be working with us?" hoped the female with the grating voice, excited.
"Hohoho…" was all the old butler was saying.
They all sound interesting enough. Although, they were tampering with my concentration as they began to have a conversation amongst themselves. I guess that I could get together with them since all I had to do was apply the apricot slices and the glaze. I cleaned my hands off thoroughly on my apron, going over to the trio.
Sebastian took the liberty of introducing me to them.
"This is Mer Sullivan. If she manages to win the Young Master's heart with her baking, she'll be a part of the Phantomhive staff," he said, stressing the "if" in that last statement. So he thinks I can't win over a twelve-year-old shota with my cooking? We'll see about that! In the meantime, I'll settle down and focus on how I'm going to successfully charm him out of his slacks.
"Mer," my butler called, gesturing to the group of the servants, "these three are Maylene, Bardroy, and Finnian. Even though they've been here longer than you have, I wouldn't trust that they'll give you the best advice."
"Hey, I resent that!" crowed Bardroy.
"My apologies. Tanaka is more trustworthy," the maroon-eyed man corrected, referring to the old man sipping tea.
I curtsied to them all, kissing their cheeks just to prove to you, the readers, that I don't discriminate. The three Sebastian described as pretty much incapable blushed, the claret-haired girl turning a more dangerous red than the other two. Was she a lesbian or something? Then again, she must have been thinking that of me. Tanaka suddenly became animated, clearing his throat.
"To kiss one's cheeks in the way of greeting is a French custom," he explained, sipping his tea and relaxing back into a dormant state.
"I've always wanted to experience French charm, yes!" revealed Maylene, anxious.
"What a custom!" chuckled Bardroy, scratching the back of his head. Finnian remained silent, his cheeks red. I went back to the kitchen and finished off the dessert for Ciel, covering the cake with apricot glaze (simultaneously wishing that I could douse it on Sebastian's naked body, too). I placed the cake on the platter and held it with both hands, that way, if I fell, the food will have its dignity left.
I made it to the Young Master's study and presented to him. He was intrigued by it, to say the least, but he looked at me expectantly. His criticizing gaze gave me the feeling that I was missing something and I was about to feel real stupid for it. Like when Beryl lost her glasses and looked for them for a full five minutes before she realized that they were on her face the entire time. Who does that?
"How do you expect me to eat it without any cutlery?" he asked and I face-palmed, turning around to go get some, but Sebastian stopped me. Get this, he pulled a fork out of his jacket. Who keeps eating utensils in their jacket? That just looked like a random basis for a ridiculous theme song.
(In the tune of "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga)
Forks, Knives, Ga-a-lore!
Watch out, he's got some more!
Forks, Knives, surprise, surprise!
Silverware Soldier~! x2
He's got your salad, your silverware, too
With that poker face, he serves it to you
This guy wears gloves
Gloves, gloves, gloves
This guy wears gloves
He's got your dessert on a silver platter
Whatever he makes, does it really matter?
This guy wears gloves
Gloves, gloves, gloves
This guy wears gloves
(Background: Gloves, gloves, gloves…this guy wears gloves)
He knows that we want him, he knows that we need him
We need his bad…his bad butler class
We want his love and he wants his revenge
The Silverware Soldier man!
He'll kick your bum while he's serving you rum
The Silverware Soldier man!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The Silverware Soldier man! x2
Forks, Knives, any eating tool
This man's a crazy fool
Forks, Knives, surprise, surprise
Silverware Soldier~!
"I'm sorry, m'lad. I was so excited to bring it to you," was my excuse for my absentmindedness. The butler tutted as he handed the fork to Ciel, possibly ready to chastise me.
"A servant shouldn't let herself be forgetful under the influence of emotion," he chided, turning to address the Young Master. "Is it to your liking, Young Master?"
The young earl took a piece from the Baba au Rhum and ate it. I could have sworn there was a hint of an orgasm in his stunned eye as he composed himself quickly. I was the one to wait expectantly this time, wanting to know if I got the job or not.
"It's good," he praised monotonously. "Sebastian, show her around."
"Understood, Young Master," the butler complied.
Begin Phase One: Ass-grabbing.
A/N: Uh-oh, Ciel doesn't realize that he has hired a shota-loving pervert. Will Sebastian be able to handle the unwanted contact without chucking a couple of knives Mer's way? Review to find out.
