Chapter 3 : I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Ice Cream!

"Eat your parfait."

"I don't want to!"

"Come on. How else do you expect to grow up big and strong?" Ciel really held faith in the power of desserts.

Alois gave Ciel a look of bewilderment. He held his stomach in pain, "I can't, Ciel. Besides, I'm stuffed. I think I've had enough cake to last me a lifetime…"

Ciel glowered, "'Sick of cake'? Don't say such nonsense! How I wish I still had my cane now, just to teach you some respect!"

"Respect…for cake?" Alois asked, wondering how much brain rot the sugar had caused for Ciel.

"And parfait!" Ciel asserted, not registering the other boy's weariness over his own mental state. Usually Alois would be the strange one in any situation, but it seemed Ciel had a certain affinity within the realm of the sweet tooth. In growing fear, Alois shifted his chair further away from Ciel and their table. Well, really it was a large steel bench top, used to pack and unpack cakes on. Though it was fairly dark in the refrigerator, the boys had made short work of the stored masterpieces. Ciel dragged out the best of them, whilst Alois made handprints into the ones he deemed unworthy. Supposedly he was telling its makers to 'talk to the hand, cuz the tongue ain't listening'.

They set their selections down on the steel bench and explored them at will. Alois ran his index fingers through the rich rivers of coloured creams, pools of strawberry and fudge sauces, and danced the embellishments of fruit and chocolate pieces through the cake landscapes, molesting them all in turn with his happy licks. Ciel, however, took an entirely more methodical approach to his cake eating. He drew himself up a chair, tore a white plate out of box cardboard, and found himself a spork, which was thoroughly higher in status than either spoon or fork. And thus, he sampled slices of every cake there, from the lands of fruit flans and blueberry cheesecakes, to the hidden woods of black forest and chocolate strawberry torte.

For a time, they had been kept warm from the consumption of cake, but now that joy had run thin, and their fingers run cold. Truth be told, even Ciel was hard pressed to eat any more.

As the lamp dimmed to a honeyed glow, Alois looked up, "Hey, Ciel. How much air do you think this room has in it?"

"I don't k-…Oh crud muffins."

"Mmm. That's what I was thinking. But I think I know a way to remedy this. You see, if we keep our bodies close together from now on…" Alois had crawled onto the table with his hands and knees, and was snaking towards Ciel ever so seductively, "…then we will stay alive. Don't you think that's worth it?"

Ciel, ever the wet blanket, immediately cut through the sexual tone this moment was taking. He complained blankly, "I don't think so. I don't want you to ruin my clothes, thank you. You've covered yourself in cake! Just look at your knees!"

Completely unfazed, Alois purred alluringly, "Oh, that's alright. You can lick it off them… wouldn't you like that, Ciel?"

Ciel's blue eye widened as Alois sat himself down in front of Ciel and spread his legs, revealing the inner pink of his thighs. Those glittering silver stockings winked gently in the hazy gold lamp light. Alois' infamous pink boots swayed gently against Ciel's own thighs, making him tingle in places he didn't know could tingle.

"I-I still don't see how this will help us conserve air. In fact, it will use up more!"

"More air? Doing what, pray tell?" Alois brought a finger to his lips in mock thoughtfulness. He gasped in sudden understanding, "My my! Your mind is less pure than I had believed…"

"D-don't play those games with me! I know what you're doing!"

Alois lowered himself off the bench gradually with each whisper, "I'm not doing…anything… simply this…" and straddled Ciel very carefully, so that his thighs rested pressing into Ciel's. Ciel was approached in a way so moderate and so smooth, that he barely registered their contact. The pair stared into each other's eyes, breathing condensed water vapour into each other's cheeks and tinging them pink. Or maybe they were blushing.

Alois stared into Ciel's single one deep blue eye with his sky blue ones, "I like your gold eye patch," he smiled, and slid a fingernail up Ciel's cheek and underneath the patch.

"Don't!" Ciel gasped, and brought his hand down over his right eye.

"Why not? No one is around," the blonde wrapped his hand around Ciel's and drew it away gently, "I want t look into both your eyes, Ciel."

It was like saying he wanted to connect with Ciel's soul. In fact, Alois did. Always being impure was getting on his nerves, and he wanted to see if he couldn't bridge that gap between the impure and the pure. They were cold, their combined bodies would be warmer; it was quiet, and they were alone. Even the lamp light that shone honeyed gold onto their bodies set the mood. Alois would never get this chance again. In the daylight he was just scum. But here, he could be anything…

Ciel found himself staring with both eyes into the fluttering lids of Alois Trancy, who he had somehow locked lips with. A delicate tongue was probing, almost respectfully, for permission to enter Ciel's little mouth. Ciel was overcome with warmth from the sudden affection, and let his mouth part. Instantly, the branded tongue he had always scorned was pressing at the soft inside of his cheeks, rubbing the sensitive middle at the roof of him mouth, and curling into his own meek tongue. He found himself responding automatically. Ciel was now tasting the lemon meringue Alois had been running baby strawberries through only a minute ago.

Ah, and there's the strawberry…

Where had their cool distance gone to? This was everything but. After a delicate moment Alois backed off, being surprisingly intuitive, and brought his mouth to peck at Ciel's soft spots around his cheeks and neck. He even ran his finger down Ciel's chest and up again to draw Ciel's chin high and kiss the vulnerable skin under it. This was Ciel's favourite action, barely acknowledged to even himself, and yet Alois had known it and granted his wish. Ciel didn't know how he did that.

After their tender moment, Alois' mouth resigned from its explorations, it for the moment satisfied with its quota of Ciel. They sat back from each other, Alois leaning against the bench edge with his thighs straddled around Ciel's, and Ciel resting back in his chair. Alois stared at him without reservation, thinking god-knows-what with a smug little grin on his face. Ciel realised it must be about his defeat, since his defences had gone down. And what a victory dance Alois had done in his mouth.

For lack of a braver thing to say, Ciel mumbled, "...It's so cold."

"Let me…" Alois took Ciel by the shoulders and drew him close. The boys met in the middle and fell together, cold and exhausted. The refrigerator was really taking its toll on their bodies. They already felt dizzy and numb. Alois kissed Ciel's cheek just to test if his lips were still sensitive enough to feel anything, and because he enjoyed the feeling of Ciel's lovely skin against his chapped lips. But he barely felt their contact now, and his eyes lowered in disappointment. The dark was enveloping them once more as the room ran out of oxygen for the lamp, and the air grew thick with damp.

Shivering from the growing cold, Alois whispered, "I wish I still had my coat…"

Ciel grumbled, "I wish I still had my cane…I will beat Sebastian's brains in for ignoring my calls like this."

"I called my Claude so many times now too. Why hasn't he come to me? You don't think our demons have abandoned us, do you?"

"I have no doubt that Sebastian wants my soul. But demons play around sometimes. You just have to rein them in.…"

Ciel's frustration grew rapidly, along with the snarl on his face. Alois withdrew from their embrace as his Ciel's right eye began to glow in anger, "Sebastian, you bastard! Come to me! You will pay for your insolence! Come to me now!"

Somewhere at the other end of the vast Crystal Palace, Sebastian froze as his the Faustian mark on his left arm tingled.

"Bocchan…"

He stood between rows of strange exhibitions, having searched the whole west side of the Palace to no avail. His master could have been anywhere, but now Sebastian had been given the signal he needed to locate him, he sprinted at high speed towards the centre of the Palace. Covering large distances was child's play. It wasn't the distance; it was the fact that there was so much surface area to cover. He was frustrated, knowing Bocchan could have summoned him at any time, but had waited until Sebastian conducted a lengthy search for him…over the wrong end of the Palace. But maybe there had been an inconvenience in his master's way? Had Bocchan had been unconscious until now? He would find out soon enough.

Racing down a 'street' that found him back in the main exhibition hall, Sebastian skidded to a halt outside a pale-walled room with a steel-framed door. It stood in a row of cleverly disguised storage rooms; even Sebastian had not noticed them before. This was the source of his Bocchan's calls, and it was barely two minutes from where he and Claude had waited for their masters half an hour ago, in the white rose courts. Sebastian raised a palm to his face. Sighing, he approached the door and rattled the steel handle. As he suspected, it was locked tight. From within, two young voices suddenly cried out, beseeching him to let them out. The voices were so faint that even he, with an ear pressed against the door, could barely hear them from behind the thick wall. No wonder they had not been found.

"Bocchan!" he shouted, "Can you hear me?"

A familiar and demanding voice muffled back, "Yes, you bastard! Get me out of here!"

"Yes, my Lord!"

The street Sebastian had followed ran through the lower end of main exhibition hall from west to east, and was intersected by the Queen's red carpet walkway that ran north to south. Sebastian turned again to take in his surrounds, and noted the back of the white rose courts began just on the other side of this street. Therefore, seated nobles were in earshot of his shouting, and some people began looking at Sebastian. It was impolite to shout in company, especially if you were seen as a mere, thought very sexy, butler. A frowning nobleman raised a condescending finger to his lips as a sign that Sebastian was to hush.

The cat demon paid him exactly no heed.

"Bocchan, you need to step back from the door! I am going to kick it in! Do you understand?"

"YES! STOP MESSING AROUND AND GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Ciel shrieked, but even that travelled no further than an inch beyond the solid storage door. It was no wonder their earlier screams had been in vain. Sebastian stood back, ready to send a hard kick the door's way. He waited a full five seconds so that Bocchan could step aside, then he raised one lethal leg against the door. It had met its match.

"Hey! You there! Don't do that!"

Sebastian turned his head, body still poised, to see a Crystal Palace staff member was addressing him. He could tell the man was staff by his pristine white uniform and Crystal Palace insignia. The same condescending nobleman stood beside him, presumably because he had alerted the staffer to the scene. He walked off as the man approached Sebastian. The demon was ready for him.

"Please, do not interrupt me. Maybe you cannot understand this, but I am in the middle of a very important rescue mission," Sebastian smiled from ear to ear. And if the interferer didn't understand that, then maybe he would comprehend the language of Fist-ala-Face. He coolly turned his attention back to the door.

To the irritation of everyone there, the man shrieked a second time, "Don't! Breaking the seal will make the room explode!"

"Explode…?" Now Sebastian was angry. He slowly lowered his long leg, and was sure at that moment he heard frustrated little screams from within the storage room. He turned to the staff member, masking his displeasure will a well-practiced smile, "And how is an explosion possible?"

"'The pressure in the sealed room is such that when significant exterior forces act upon the room, the room is unable to deal will such, and subsequently explodes to displace the external pressure, making it even with the internal pressure'…Or that's what the manufacturers said," the man recited, then a reasonable smile came to his face, "It's a mouthful, I know. But it happened to the Queen's cousin last month. She was having some fancy tea party, and one of the cooks there was the nearer side of a fool, so he kicked the door in when it got jammed….There were cucumber sandwiches everywhere."

Sebastian frowned in disbelief, and so the man continued, "Listen. You seem a strong man, observationally speaking. A solid kick from you could create a fracture in the insulation, or worse, cause the whole room to split apart. I hope you can value the fact that we have a full hall here today. People could get hurt."

"And the life of my master trapped within means nothing to you?"

It's your master who's in there? I see, well that is a cause for concern…not to mention the freezing temperature he's been exposed to…"

"Pardon me?" the demon's burnt-amber eyes narrowed at the revelation. And despite the alleged cold, Sebastian could feel the searing heat of his Bocchan's outrage from where he stood. His master had never been ignored for this long.

"You don't know? That room is what we call a walk-in refrigerator. It's dead freezing in there. You may not have one personally to work with at your master's residence, but I thought you would know all about it, since it's the topic on the lips of every maid and butler here…I guess when all you're used to is iceboxes, you get a chill down your spine just thinking about that great beast…oops, excuse the pun," the staff member chuckled.

Sebastian shared neither his enthusiasm nor his warm humour. He stared down at the man, shooting ocular daggers, "I must open this…'refrigerator'. Show me how."

That was certainly not a question, and the staff member raised an eyebrow at this rude demand. But he was not about to argue. He could either help this edgy butler, or see his beloved Bessie (for he had secretly named the inanimate object) get taken a beating to. He mumbled, "Let me find my superior. He might find us the key…"

"Might?" Sebastian demanded, but the man had become nervous under the demon's glare, and was already sprinting off on his way. Flustered, Sebastian had little time to collect himself as a familiar voice shouted dramatically. Claude had arrived on the scene.

"Hold on, Your Highness! I will free you from this contraption!"

Agile as a cat, Sebastian leapt directly into the path of Claude's giant clodhopping foot, and halted his progress with a single spar of his elbow. The spider demon was certainly surprised, but more over he scowled with a look of utter frustration, "Michaelis! After I have searched the entire Crystal Palace for my master, you try to stop me from reaching him? Get out of my way! I have no time for-"

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, "You searched the whole Palace? I'm impressed. I only got to do half."

"Yes, well…I cheated by kicking in some of the rooms - that's not the point! Remove yourself, before I remove you!"

"Absolutely not," Sebastian pressed his elbow against the sole of his opponent's shoe, "If I did that, you would kill them

both."

A mistrusting scowl grew on Claude's face, "…What do you mean? I have not time for clues. Explain yourself."

"That I can," Sebastian spoke calmly enough for Claude to feel it reasonable that he should lower his leg.

Behind them, the nobility were hissing in outraged whispers at the public display of bad behaviour from these two 'villainous' butlers. Claude ignored the gossipers just as much as Sebastian, and waited impatiently for his explanation. Alois' muffled cries could be heard in the background. Sebastian saw that Claude's kicking leg was starting to fidget like a twitching spider's limb, dying to kick the door in, and so Sebastian made his response as forthcoming as possible. He motioned towards the room, "That is what they call a 'refrigerator', a newly invented cooling device for food. It has its faults however; if broken open it's likely to fracture or explode, killing your master. I was called to the same location by my own master, so I can only assume they got trapped together within the beast whilst on their little rampage."

"The beast?" Claude stared at it in wonder.

"The beast," Sebastian nodded in solemnity. Despite its dangerous flaws, the refrigerator was fast becoming the butler's equivalent of a shiny new Lamborghini. With its glossy, eggshell-coloured walls and sleek steel framing, it seemed to have a hypnotic effect on people with culinary inclination.

Claude wondered, "And how are we to retrieve our masters without upsetting this…beast?"

"A staff member has just now gone to fetch his superior, who will, assumedly, successfully locate the key to the mouth of the beast," Sebastian summarised his dissatisfying conversation with the man.

"Mmm…That doesn't sound promising at all. We should try to open it…with great care," Claude looked over at the room in curiosity.

But Sebastian shook his head, "Try? The risk of failing at a time like this is a most unattractive prospect to me. I suggest we wait. If they don't find the key, then we should turn to more drastic methods."

"Perhaps a wise idea," Claude concluded. Their false politeness actually got them far, when they employed it.

Sebastian approached the door again, and rapped his knuckles to gain his master's attention. He had to shout, "Bocchan! I have since discovered that the refrigerator is a highly unstable piece of equipment! I cannot risk you safety by breaking it open! Our only choice is to wait for the key to be brought so I can unlock the door! Please forgive me this delay!"

Naturally, he bowed, even thought Ciel could not see it. From within, there came a harsh, rasping shout. It sounded a lot like "You Baka! I'm freezing to death in this hell hole while you sit around and wait for keys! Why don't you have a picnic while you're at it? Baka!"

Sebastian sighed in resignation of the fact; his master would be inevitably displeased with him by the time he got free. There was no salvaging this situation. Claude approached and inspected the door, running his gloved hands down the sleek metal frame that was ice to the touch. He was highly tempted to slice into the door with a shot of his spider's thread, but was given a stern glance by Sebastian.

Claude took his turn and called to his own master, "Your Highness?"

A high, trembling voice called back, "Claude! It's so cold in here! Our legs are so sore, we can't move! You need to hurry! I can't take this much longer!"

"Yes, Your Highness! We are doing what we can!" Claude reassured. But truth be told, they could not do much. The staffer had disappeared from sight, leaving the butlers no clue as to where the keys were kept. With no where to go, they could only wait. And to a demon butler who strives to serve and is always on the move, the waiting game is a very irritating one. Right now, both demons were feeling incredibly useless.

The lone figures of the tall suited demons, one in his jet black and silver uniform, the other in his off-white and silver ensemble and still with the pink flower in his hair, stood at the end of the main exhibition hall, listening to the light clatter of forks and teacups and people chatting away. You could see for hundreds of feet up the wide carpeted walkway that separated the hall in two, all the way down to the Queen's throne; she was breaking pieces off the huge icing flower tied to her throne, and sliding them under her black veil to sample. The air was fresh and breezy, and the Crystal Palace, being filled with both exotic vegetation and man-made structures, seemed a strange jungle. Here, you could almost imagine a jaguar slinking in and out of the tables harmlessly, being petted and fed tid-bits of cake as she padded along. But the demons were in too low a mood to imagine anything worthwhile.

Claude grumbled, "This is preposterous. A demon having to wait for some foul-tasting no-name soul to…to…help. I can't tolerate this. No…the moment I get my hands on that key-"

"We get our hands on that key," Sebastian enforced.

"…Let's just say they will be richer than they've ever been before, and ever will be afterwards."

"What?" Sebastian had lost him there. To make things clear, Claude boldly withdrew a handful of deadly golden knives from his inner breast pocket and smirked. Sebastian nodded in understanding. Claude looked quite dangerous with the glittering blades gripped between his knuckles, in public where anyone could spot them. Sebastian was expecting a noble lady to scream any moment now.

"I've shown you mine, now you show me yours," Claude grinned in a way Sebastian could not help but instantly distrust.

"Time and time again, you just keep proving me right. I wonder if other spider demons are as depraved, or is it just you?" Sebastian brought a gloved hand to his lips in mock thoughtfulness.

"I'm the only one I know of."

Sebastian's tone became warmly sarcastic, "Ah, then you're special."

Claude smiled proudly, "Why, yes I am."

"Very special…" Sebastian turned his head away before Claude caught the wide grin it bore. Show and tell was over, and in disappointment Claude discretely tucked his knives away. Sebastian sighed.

"Truth be told, this disaster is my fault entirely. I will take full responsibility for it. Being the only sound adult here, I should have never let my master chase such ramble as the young Trancy," he shook his head condescendingly.

Feeling suddenly defensive, Claude hissed, "You Phantomhives think you're so superior. The pair of you trample over everyone with your noses upturned, and expect to get away with it. Well don't expect my master and I to follow suit. Unlike everyone else, we know the sun doesn't shine out of your ass, Sebastian Michaelis."

"Notice how you can't help but mention parts of my anatomy? If you both weren't busy obsessively stalking my master and I, you would realise that it's not we who are acting above our station, but you who are acting below it. Far, far below. On the level of whore incubi and perverted Asmodeus goblins."

Claude did not like being compared to the sexual deviants of Hell, and the comment smarted all the more because he secretly felt it rang true, for Alois. Claude, of course, saw himself as exempt from any whorish inclinations, no matter how perverted his thoughts were. And whilst he remained defensive of his master, Claude privately looked down upon Alois' sexual nature just as much as he secretly adored it. That was one of the reasons he accepted Alois as his master in the first place. But he had a seed of hypocrisy and self-denial that blocked him from seeing what he subconsciously knew; he was more deviant and fetish-filled than any fourteen year old could ever be.

Sebastian revelled in his sting, "You don't like that? Oh, but you suit him perfectly. Don't think it isn't exceedingly obvious, Faustus. They don't call you 'The Tongue Lasher' down at home for nothing."

Those were the last words Claude wanted to hear being spoken on earth. Michaelis obviously didn't remember that what happens in Hell, stays in Hell. The spider demon fumed with a dangerous glint in his gold eyes, "We will get you both. And when I have my hands on your precious little Phantomhive, we'll see who's so pure once I'm through with him!"

In an instant, Sebastian withdrew his silver knives and was about to slash into Claude's neck, when he heard an impatient shriek from within the refrigerator, "Will you both cease your mindless bickering and GET US OUT OF HERE!"

It was Ciel, and he was not amused. Both butlers froze at the sound, their hatful momentum dying away. After a long, awkward pause, Sebastian attempted to make amends, "Bocchan, I am very sorry for this heinous lack of efficiency! The staff are yet to return with the keys!"

Alois chimed in loudly, "Ciel, what's worse? The fact that they failed to chase the staff guy and get the keys themselves, or that they're fighting like little bitches? I can't be sure!"

Ciel was heard to snap back in equal volume, "Both things are equally as pathetic and useless! Just like those bastards outside, who dare to call themselves butlers!"

Alois yelled back, making sure they could hear him outside, "I think you're exactly right! I'm almost glad I'm behind this door, just so I don't have to see Claude's stupid face!"

Claude was remorseful, "Your Highness, please forgive me! You won't be in there much lon-"

"Shut your tongue lashing-mouth!" Alois yelled, and both boys within the refrigerator room burst into laughter. Claude blushed. So they had heard.

After the giggles had faded, the demons found themselves having to wait in silence, again, alone, together. They both felt exceedingly foolish from their spat. Doing his best to avoid eye contact, Claude turned his head skywards. The glass roof glimmered with delicate sunlight. His attention was caught by the gathering of hundreds of sparrows above the roof; they were jealously eyeing the cakes below with beady eyes. Claude smiled, secretly nursing a soft spot for small creatures, and pointed upwards, "Oh, look at that. They're hungry."

Sebastian looked up at them too. High above the Palace roof, all he saw were living, cooing, ready-to-roast chickens, just begging to be made a tasty meal out of. He was beginning to salivate. Beside him, Claude noticed the feline instinct creep out onto the cat demon as their pupils dilated to a frightening diameter. He didn't like it.

Sebastian turned down to see Claude scowling at him. He frowned back, "…What? Can I help it if they appear to me like miniature walking meals? I'm thinking rosemary, thyme, maybe some buttery stuffing, and voila! Dinner is served."

"You're disgusting," Claude snarled. Obviously, Sebastian had hit a sore spot.

He reasoned on, "Please, do not blame me for my instincts. We are demons, are we not? And both bestowed with animal instincts, yes? I cannot help the aspects of my base nature. We felines are inclined to take a swipe at anything that moves in a certain, tempting way. We toy with creature like those. And if you were in your animal form, I would toy with you too."

Claude's eyes went wide. Being the giant pervert that he was, Claude's mind inadvertently wandered to the wrong side of the tracks. With a falsely outraged tone, he chided, "That sounds incredibly sleazy, Michaelis…"

"Only if you want to hear it that way, Faustus. And with your brain being arranged as it is, I'm not entirely surprised…"

Claude glared at his opponent, daring them to continue. Sebastian held his peace, but broke into a smirking expression of the most devious nature. Not wanting to give his opponent any reason to call him anything worse, Claude smoothed his hair over and straightened his glasses. He shifted his gaze onto a vague spot in the distance, while Sebastian smirked all the more. Claude begun to feel hot under the collar. He didn't like Sebastian mocking him like this. But Sebastian knew what he was doing. He kept on grinning.

Finally, Claude snapped, "…Enough of that, Michaelis."

"Heh."

Note: A sleazy Sebastian? Well I never! To be honest, it's the sleazy Claude that you have to worry about. Not to mention that he's freaking clueless. Alois getting cozy with Ciel is very interesting…huh hmm! Next time: the keys to set them free finally arrives, but for one of the master's it's just too late. Undertaker and Grell arrive on the scene, but for who?

It's cute? But not so much on the smut? Lol, you greedy thing you. Don't you worry, that's coming up soon. Rate and review!