Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I walk over to Izzie, bend down, and shake my finger at her the same way I see mothers do to misbehaving children in the market.
"No Izzie."
She does not respond, but instead, solemnly and with great ceremony, picks up another handful of fruit mush and smears it onto my finger. I stand still for a few moments as my vision narrows and my teeth begin to sharpen. Then Izzie, ignoring me completely, turns to her plate and offers Lady Elizabeth the spoon. I straighten and take a deep, calming breath. I must find a new word for the place of my birth, for this is truly hell.
Time skip brought to you by Will the Reaper, who does not appreciate the overtime
Well, this could be going worse. Of course, I've been trying to convince myself of this for the entire three days the girls and I have been at the Phantomhive manor. Walking down the hall, I pause to give an ornate vase a quick polish with a rag that I am forced to keep clenched in between my teeth. The cleaner tastes absolutely terrible, but seeing as Izzie has taken to screaming every time I set her down, and Rebecca to cursing as loudly and foully as she possibly can (which has made for a few interesting meals), it can't be helped. I have tried cleaning with my feet, but apparently Izzie considers those to be far preferable to my arms, at least when held in the air, and I do prefer not hopping around the manor while trying to detach her.
The sound of rapid footsteps makes me groan, and Rebecca looks up excitedly. I glare at her, and she pouts. Taking a deep breath, I turn around just in time to catch Mey-Rin, or more accurately check her fall with my stomach. She reddens visibly and stumbles back a few steps, stuttering.
"What is it Mey-Rin?" I ask tiredly. She gulps, straightens, and says,
"Well sir I, I mean we, I mean..."
She trails off, looking down at her shoes until all I can see is the top of her white cap.
"We want to help!" I jerk and spin around, only to be confronted by a grinning Bardroy who, is, as ever, smoking. Izzie wrinkles her nose and buries her face into my shirt, trying to escape the smell. I sigh, and push away the image of Bard with one or more of his cigarettes shoved up his nostril. Finnegan peeps out from behind Bardroy, nodding enthusiastically. His nodding stops suddenly as I shoot him a harsh look.
While I am soundlessly chastising Finnegan, Mey-Rin, having apparently taken my silence as an affirmation, darts forwards and plucks the vase from its pedestal. I watch in horror as she runs down the hall with the priceless item. Halfway down she trips on her skirt and falls, the vase flying from her hands. If my mouth was not otherwise occupied, I would be making the appropriate exclamations, but as it is Rebecca appears to be holding her own. I consider trying to catch it, but decide that though the Phantomhive servants may have the observational skills of grilled salmon, the children, despite their apparent inability to think and act logically, may someday prove more astute and I must start avoiding compromising situations. Though hopefully I will have them out of my hair (fascinating the expressions humans come up with) sooner rather than later.
I wince as the resounding crash echoes through the manor. Finnegan and Bardroy rush forward and help a dazed Mey-Rin to her feet. Quickly I walk over and survey the damage. The vase lies in about 153 pieces on the formally spotless and dustless carpet. Beside me Mey-Rin begins to babble something, apologies maybe, but I focus on keeping calm. Finally I turn and, carefully removing the rag from my mouth, say,
"Clean this up and bring me the pieces, I'll see if I can get this fixed."
They look at me incredulously, and finally Bardroy speaks up,
"Uh, Mr. Sebastian, I don't think that's possible."
I shoot him and cold look and, turning, stalk away.
They clean up the wreckage rather quickly, and I hear them dump the pieces in my room, Mey-Rin lingering for a few unnecessary moments. With a sigh I shake my head and begin to chop some vegetables. It is almost time for Master Phantomhive's ten am snack. Rebecca and Izzie watch attentively from their perch on the counter. I have learned (after several escape attempts on their part), that Rebecca is fascinated by fire and Izzie adores knife tricks. Actually, Izzie's attention is starting to wane, as it does every minute or so. Honestly, I have seen amoebas with longer attention stand than these girls.
Grabbing three more knives, I begin to juggle with one hand and continue to chop with the other. Izzie screams delightedly and claps her hands, giggling. Rebecca smiles, but quickly begins to fidget. Tossing the knives back into the sheath, I turn on all of the burners and toss a match. The stove goes roaring up in flames and Rebecca laughs, throwing up her arms. Then I turn off the stove and she returns to her cross-legged position. I quickly arrange the vegetables on a plate and toss it on the cart next to pot of tea and some china. Dessert soon joins it; a kind of pastry that Bardroy calls a "donut". They take about five minutes to make, even at human speed, so I am sincerely hoping he'll enjoy them. After tossing Rebecca onto the lower level of the cart and scooping up Izzie, we exit the kitchen. Rebecca apparently considers the cart ride the highlight of her existence, given the look of sheer delight on her face as I check and make sure that she is holding on tightly.
As I walk to Lord Phantomhive's office, I pause to kick a stuffed monkey out of the way. The monkey is Lady Elizabeth's, or was anyway. The day the girls arrived she made Finny drag a few of her boxes out of storage and presented me with chests full of toys.
◦ ◦ ◦ Flashback ◦ ◦ ◦
"All made by the Funtom company! Nothing but the best!"
I try to disguise my horror as Lady Elizabeth smiles at me. Has she seen the mess these things make of their surroundings already? And she wants me to give them more material? Recalling myself I sweep her a bow,
"Thank you milady. But are you sure you wish to part with these, err, treasured belongings of yours?"
Please say no. Please just have a flash of selfishness and put these hideous, brightly painted, harbingers of mess and destruction away.
From across the storage room Lord Phantomhive smirks, leaning against a stack of boxes that I believe contain his old toys. Noble children are spoiled rotten. He catches my eye and smirks again, as if he knows my thoughts. Lady Elizabeth falters, her brow creases and she leans back,
"I don't know..."
I almost breathe a sigh of relief, but lord Phantomhive walks across the room and takes her arm,
"Now Lizzie," he says. Oh no. He only calls her Lizzie when she prompts him or he's trying to manipulate her into something.
"Don't you think toys are meant to be played with?" He says smoothly. She nods slowly,
"Yes. Of course, Sebastian let the girls pick out what they want," she says, hesitantly. Lord Phantomhive laughs and shakes his head.
"Oh we'll just have Finnegan carry it all down to Sebastian's room."
Lady Elizabeth's face falls for a second, then she composes herself and nods to Finnegan, who rushes forward to scoop up the three chests, stacking them haphazardly atop each other before running from the room. Lady Elizabeth watches them go with a sigh, then curtsies slightly and walks from the room. Lord Phantomhive waits for a second before following her, smirking at me before exiting the room. Gritting my teeth, I desperately muffle some rather foul curses involving his, well, predilections in Greek. Rebecca looks up sharply, but is unable to make out the words. Taking the girl's hands, I lead them out of the room and to my soon-to-be-destroyed chambers.
º ◦ º End of Flashback º º ◦
Chuckling, I turn a corner and begin to walk down a hall. The toys have proven to be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, they provide the girls with much needed distractions when I must attend to paperwork and don't want them ripping the papers or spilling the ink, but on the other hand they leave the infernal things everywhere. And I keep having to explain why a stuffed fabric bear (which Izzie has taken to calling "Mr. Cuddles") cannot join them in the tub. Neither can a wooden zebra. Nor the small maroon blanket that Rebecca found four days ago, calls Betsy, and refuses to go anywhere without.
The cart suddenly stops and I frown. Kneeling down, I sigh as I discover the aforementioned blanket tangled in the wheels, with Rebecca frantically trying to extract it. Setting Izzie down, I carefully untangle the cart and fabric from each other before handing it back to Rebecca. I pick Izzie up again and am about to start pushing the cart when Rebecca's ear piercing shriek stops me short. I get back down to find Rebecca staring at her precious scrap of fabric with a horrified expression on her face. It would be somewhat amusing but she looks near tears, the stains of which do not come out of fabric, and I am fast running out of shirts to refashion into clothes for them, despite Lady Elizabeth's donations of her old garments
"What now Rebecca?" I sigh. In reply she holds the blanket out to me, her eyes now swimming with tears. Craning my neck, my eyes alight on a rather large hole in the cloth. Obviously ripped there by the wheels of the cart, the tear is approximately six inches long, and located directly in the center of the blanket. Stuffing it into my pocket, I tell Rebecca,
"Hush now child. I'll fix it later."
She crosses her arms and pouts, but I ignore this and push the cart the rest of the way to Lord Phantomhive's office.
Upon reaching my destination I rap lightly on the door, despite the fact that he has no doubt heard me coming,
"My Lord?"
"Come in Sebastian," comes the reply. I open the door and push the cart in, halting it in front of the desk,
"For lunch today we have red lobster bisque, grilled salmon and chives, and a curious new treat called a donut for dess-augh!" I cry out as something tugs at my trousers. For a brief moment I fear Grell has made his way past my defenses, and I unconsciously prepare to defend myself from assault. Fortunately it is just Rebecca, who has removed herself from the cart and is now in the process of pulling her blanket out of my pocket. With great ceremony she toddles over to Lord Phantomhive's desk and, raising herself up on her tiptoes, deposits the blanket on the wooden surface. Then, turning to me, she points at the fabric and says,
"Fix."
I nod and hurriedly set the dishes out before Lord Phantomhive, who looks at the rather filthy piece of cloth disdainfully,
"Fix!" she us, louder this time,
"You'd better fix it Sebastian, you know how loud they can get. And how loud Lady Phantomhive can get if her "Beauty sleep" is interrupted."
I nod at him, gathering up the blanket, and then an idea strikes. A halfway brilliant, halfway idiotic idea,
"Actually my lord, with your permission, I was thinking I might take a few hours off of my duties and try teaching them to sew."
He raises his eyebrows at me slightly,
"Teach them to sew? They're rather young, aren't they?"
I smirk slightly,
"I've taught younger."
And they were absolute terrors, my mind reminds me. I shove that thought away, caught up in a fantasy of the girls quietly sewing little dolls for themselves or mending their own clothing as I work, instead of shrieking their heads off and chasing each other around with toys. Lord Phantomhive nods,
"Just don't tell Elizabeth, she's got in her head to teach them all about the feminine arts."
I stifle a laugh, but he hears and smirks slightly. With a slight bow, I pick Izzie up off the cart, stuff the blanket back into my pocket, rearrange Rebecca on the cart, and exit the room.
A few minutes later we, cart and all, roll into one of the many rooms in the Phantomhive manor that serve little to no purpose. This room is what I believe one would call the secondary sitting room. I've never actually seen anyone sit here, even those times when Lady Elizabeth's mother forced Lord Phantomhive to host one of those interminable dinner parties. With any luck the other servants will be unable to find us for at least an hour, affording me ample time to instruct the girls on the basics of sewing.