I wanted to take the chance to thank all of you for reading. I will not post again this week for two reasons, the first being that I have finals and the second is th fact that I was in a car accident recently. Let's just say I'm lucky to be here after flippingmy car onto it's side and sliding down the road on the passanger door. I totaled the car, but I'm alright.

Thank you again for reading.

Kuro.

Chapter 37: Pushing the Envelope

Claude stood before his closet and ran his fingers over the soft cashmere sweaters hanging in it. He smiled as he pulled out a beautiful black sweater, it was a personal favorite of his. It was fitted so it would cling to the torso like a second skin with a layer of buttons off to the side as a closure. The neck dipped a little downward and would look stunning on Sebastian. He pulled the soft black sweater out of his closet and went looking for the man's jeans, fortunately Sebastian had a belt and a gray tee shirt which would really make the sweater pop. He placed the clothing on the bed and looked at the young chef sitting at the Island in the kitchen. "Did I mention that the interview is in three hours?" he asked from the doorway. Sebastian jumped and practically bolted off the stool and into the bedroom. "Why didn't you tell me before?" he shouted with irritation. Claude simply chuckled and stuck his tongue out playfully, "I do have a mean streak," he commented before wandering into the kitchen to clean up the mess from breakfast. The first thing he had to do was take Sebastian to get clothes that actually fit and were attractive.

Sebastian was slender and very beautiful, nothing like Claude who was bulky, Sebastian was the opposite, leith, agile and elegant. He had the makings of a tall Lord with a face that most desired, he could only imagine the chaos which would ensue when photos of the chef were released. "A slim suit with a clean cut and slender lapel would be desirable," he commented as he placed the rest of the frittata in the fridge after covering it and proceeded to finish cleaning. There are a few places around England to go for such a thing and he was certain he would be able to get just the right look. He hummed as he thought about Sebastian again, Ash was going to dress in white like he always did, which meant all the dark colors were up for grabs. Claude picked up a sponge and squeezed some soap onto it before proceeding to wash the plates. The interview was also of a young chef, which meant a suit was a bit over the top, but a blazer was certainly a possibility and so were a pair of nice tight jeans. Claude was drooling as he imagined Sebastian in a pair of dark denim jeans that were fitted perfectly so he could admire the raven at every angle. It was almost as tantalizing as the notion of having Sebastian in leather, almost. He turned around to see Sebastian standing in the doorway in his sweater, despite the fact that it was actually too large for him, it fit him. Claude smiled, something stirred inside him when he looked at Sebastian in his clothing, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

Sebastian was standing there nervously for a moment until Claude commented, "That looks better on you than it does me," he remarked before walking toward the door, "Come on, I'll drive." Claude walked toward the door and in moments was in a pair of black oxfords and was slipping into his brown bomber jacket with a pair of aviators in hand. He could feel Sebastian's eyes on his back as he grabbed a long military coat for the slender chef, "Here, so you don't catch a cold." He watched as the raven slipped into it, he was right about one thing, Sebastian would look wonderful in a military coat. The pair walked through the hallway and into the lift, the entire time Claude was running through the order of shops to visit. His goal was to show the world the Sebastian he knew and wanted them to desire. A grin curved his lips as he imagined Ash's face when Sebastian arrived, it would be a look he would love a photo of.

"Where are we going first?" asked Sebastian pulling the Head Chef from his thoughts. Claude looked at him and replied simply, "Blazer first, then shirt and jeans. Once we get those we hunt for a belt, shoes and what ever else needed to finish the look." Red eyes were filled with confusion and fear as he looked at the man, it wasn't until now that Claude realized Sebastian probably had never had someone look for clothes that made him look delectable. "We are going to see my tailor first, he should have something that you fit into," he replied. Claude tossed his car keys in the air with ease as he stalked toward the Jaguar sitting in the parking spot, Sebastian's mouth popped open, the beautiful black car was waxed to perfection, "This is your car?" he asked after a moment. Claude hit the fob on his keys, causing the lights to flash on it as the beautiful black car unlocked. "Yes," he replied with a grin, "Perhaps we'll go out to the country sometime and let her lose."

Claude had always been told his car suited him, the sophistication of an aristocrat with the power of a wild cat. He opened the passenger door for Sebastian and asked, "Coming?" The chef smiled broadly as he rounded the car, "It's quite a car," he commented. Claude nodded and leaned on the side of it as he waited for the Patissier to get in. "Oh believe me, she turns heads, even in black," he commented. Sebastian chuckled as he slipped into the supple leather interior, Claude closed the door and rounded the car, this was going to be a rather fun day. He honestly couldn't wait to see Sebastian slip out of the car in the look he had planned. It was bound to be intoxicating.

Claude hummed with delight as he easily moved through the streets of London, oddly it wasn't as congested as usual. Normally he would sit at a stop sign for a bit, waiting for a chance to jump in, yet today lane changes and turns were occurring without a hitch. Yet, this wouldn't knock a feeling that had been ebbing away at him, it was an all too familiar feeling of dread. Claude was almost always confident in his abilities and never took on a task which was too great for him to handle. Oddly this feeling he couldn't seem to shake. He was passing by a hotel when he noticed a very familiar man stepping out of a black limousine, he clenched his jaw and growled, "Claude?" asked Sebastian. Golden eyes were locked on the man slipping into the hotel with a beautiful woman in tow. He had brown hair and a pair of striking gold eyes, his tall and commanding stature was impossible to miss. "It's nothing," he hissed with irritation as he made a mental note to call his father and find out why he was in London. He turned another corner and stopped outside of a familiar shop, it was one of the many places which Claude used to craft his wardrobe. The shop it's self took after every tailor's tradition, it had a beautiful emerald green awning with the shop name sprawled across it in scrip and the tailor's soon after. He smiled as he opened parked the black jaguar outside of it and slipped out of it.

Sebastian stood before the shop in awe as he looked at Claude, "Don't worry, I'll cover it," stated Claude as he slipped his hands into his pockets and walked over to the shop. He smiled as he caught the name Alan Humfress on the glass written in red. He had known Alan for a long time and met the man when William returned with the wines for his competition, as well as Ronald. He hadn't met a man who knew fashion better and could craft a suite which flattered the figure better than Alan. He pushed the door open and listened to the soft chime of the bell resonate inside the shop. He gestured for Sebastian to enter before himself, he noticed how the chef tentatively agreed to enter. The shop smelt of furniture polish, leather, lemon, wood and freshly laundered linens. The plush green carpet under foot was new and to Claude's surprise the shop had expanded, the last he had seen it there was plastic up everywhere and caution signs. Now he could see why it had taken so long, there were mirrors in numerous places, wooden racks held bolts of fabric and suites as well as various other articles of clothing. The inventory of the small shop had exploded which made Claude smile, he would certainly find something worthy of Sebastian here.

Golden eyes locked on Sebastian as he walked over to the side and hesitantly reached out to touch a maroon silk tie, a smile curled Claude's lips, the color made Sebastian's eyes explode in intensity and he made a mental note to grab it before they left. "Welcome," said a soft tenor off to the side, Claude turned to see the familiar tailor standing in a black pair of slacks and matching vest. He was wearing a white shirt and a stunning gold, orange and black paisley tie which made his hazel eyes pop. A pair of rimless oval glasses sat on his nose, his dark brown hair was perfectly parted, not a hair was out of place. Claude's eyes were locked on the smile which had now swept across Alan's face. "Claude, it's wonderful to see you again, how's that blazer treating you?" he asked curiously as he strode over to Claude and held out his hand for a handshake. Claude hummed and took the tailor's small hand in his own. "Beautifully, I must say I like the new silk, it's warm yet light enough to breath. I'm not here for me though," he explained. Alan stared at him in confusion and asked, "Then who?"

Claude smiled and looked at Sebastian, "Him," he replied with a smile. There was a pause as Alan pushed his glasses further up his nose, Sebastian was looking at a pair of slacks and slowly touched the fabric. Alan crossed his arms and looked at Claude and then to Sebastian, "Please tell me he's yours," he stated bluntly. Claude chuckled, Alan was never one to walk on eggshells. "I hope so, I'm working on it. He has an interview and I need the beauty I see to be visible to everyone else as well," he explained. Alan tapped his chin with his index finger and tilted his head, his lips were pursed as he became lost in thought. Claude had seen this look a number of times when a new customer was inside his store. Inside the mind of Alan Humphries he knew the gears were spinning as he assembled palette, fabrics, liners, cuts and even a few measurements. After a moment Alan fished around in his slack pockets for the white measuring tape Claude knew so well. All Alan did was nod, it was more than enough of a response for Claude.

"Sebastian, I would like you to meet Alan Humphries, my tailor," he said smoothly the Pậtissier looked over at him in confusion as he walked over toward the tailor. Alan was smiling and began to roll up his shirt sleeves. Alan held out his hand and smiled smoothly, "A pleasure." Sebastian shook the tailor's hand making Claude smile. "I need you to stand on that block so I can take your measurements, I won't be able to make a suite in time, however I should be able to alter something for now, swing by in two days time and I'll have a custom piece done. Till then," he said with ease as he unrolled the measuring tape and gestured for Sebastian to step up.

~~xXx~~

Ash sighed as he slipped out of his car and walked toward the set, they had selected a warm cafe like setting, for the interview and from what he heard they would be shooting in a rather sterile studio for the photos. Outside of the location was a row of reporters who clearly hadn't been invited, each of them waiting to pounce. He hummed and began to wonder just what he would say when asked about his food, would he tell people the truth or shirk back and lie. If he told the truth his own followers would be displeased, they all thought he followed the tradition of worshiping his father, like they all believed his father desired, but the truth was his father wanted him to become his own man. Ash sighed and was about to turn back when he caught sight of a familiar cashmere scarf, his eyes lit up as the boy from the other day waved to him. Ash was confused for a moment, those eyes were filled with joy at him simply being there, he pointed to himself only for the boy to nod. Ash smiled warmly as he lifted his hand to wave back, a warmth spread over him as he did so, he was a child once and his father always told him to follow his heart. He drew a deep breath as he calmed himself, he had to tell the truth, after all he had nothing left to lose since Angela was going to frame him regardless of his pleas.

There was a murmur from the reporters before him, he turned around to see Sebastian slipping out of a black Jaguar, his eyes widened as they raked over the slender chef. He looked nothing like he had the first day, the rags were gone, in were the sinfully tight jeans. A pair of dark blue jeans hugged his hips showing their curves and the powerful muscle under them which was clearly a result of the chef's cycling. Those firm calves which any woman would kill for were noticeable before they widened and covered his ankles and top of a pair of beautiful brown leather oxfords with squared toes. A brown leather belt circled his waist and a white black tee was worn under a beautiful dark slate blue blazer. The blazer was tight and beautifully tailored in a very distinct Korean cut which accented the slender chef's physique. It was a clever decision on the tailor's part to do this it made his chef look slightly broader, but not overly so, even buttoned it made it seem as though it were a second skin. A deep green and mint scarf hung around his neck, although the colors seemed odd they certainly made his eyes pop. The scarf was obviously made of the finest wool, and hung perfectly from the base of his neck. A black military jacket hung from his shoulders, the brass buttons and buckles gleamed in the light, he was holding a pair of gold framed aviators in his hand. His eyes finally swept over the man's face, he looked calm and confident, two things which Ash had only seen from Sebastian while the man was in the kitchen. He looked different standing before him, and suddenly he realized that Claude was responsible, smiling from ear to ear was the Head Chef as he locked his Jaguar. The man's molten gray eyes fell on the raven as he seemed to catch flight, the murmurs hadn't stopped the simply grew louder. Ash smiled a little, he may have had to compete against Sebastian but that didn't mean he couldn't admire Claude's adjustments to the chef.

Sebastian stood beside Ash and smiled nervously, "So we have to sit in an interview together," he commented. Ash could tell that the man was trying to strike up a conversation to ease his nerves, this was where Ash was in turmoil, he had no idea if he could talk to Sebastian and do as the chef was asking without insulting him. Sebastian's appearance didn't help either, standing side by side he knew they looked like an angel and demon standing side by side. Sebastian looked every inch sinful as Ash looked innocent. "Yeah, they just want to know about our childhoods, where we learned how to cook, our philosophy, you know, stuff like that," he said reassuringly, they were all topics he knew well. However, he watched as the other chef stiffened, "I see," he replied rigidly. He sounded almost anatomical in nature, as he masked what looked like anxiety. He had a feeling Sebastian's life wasn't kind but part of him began to wonder just how deep the wounds went.

He knew there was a reason Angela wanted Francis around and that she wanted to cause Sebastian pain, yet he had no idea just how bad Sebastian was treated. Part of him prayed that it was simply sadness of abandonment and nothing more sinister, yet his gut told him otherwise. "Shall we?" Ash asked hesitantly, he watched as the chef nodded stiffly and took that as the sign to move forward. The horde of reporters practically leapt on top of them as soon as they appeared, never letting them up for air, always demanding more information. The flashes were bright as photographers couldn't seem to restrain themselves from practically jumping Sebastian. Ash stared he hadn't seen the press like this in ages, obviously what ever magic Claude worked on Sebastian made everyone who looked at him lose it. Then again it was difficult to see how beautiful the chef was while dressed in rags. Sebastian simply ignored them and so did Ash, once they had forced their way through the crowd they slipped into the warm studio and looked at the woman who was seated in a chair before them. Ash stifled a chuckle as he looked at the woman, she had piercing blue eyes, curly blond hair and a pair of horn rectangular glasses on her nose. She was dressed in a bright green suit and had long brown nails with bright red lipstick on her lips. She honestly reminded him of Rita Skeeter, it was ironic in a way all that was missing were the dragons and two other champions. "Welcome, please have a seat, I'm Serena Ross" she chirped as she gestured to the chairs before her.

Ash sighed as he took a seat before the woman, Sebastian was hesitant but did so at his own pace, most would consider this to be arrogance but from the way Sebastian looked around the room he could tell the chef was looking for the exits, as to why he was doing so he had no idea. Sebastian settled into the seat, yet still sat toward the edge, as though he would be chastised for leaning back. "Alright, I'm sure you both know that all of England wants to know more about you two and I'm here to reveal the truth," she stated grandly as she twirled a pen between her fingers and looked at the pad which she had prepared questions on, behind her was a cameraman. Ash nodded firmly, "Wonderful, now then Mister Landers we would love to hear a little about your relationship with your father, what was it like?" she asked sweetly. Ash mentally sighed, he had a feeling this would come up, and was happy that he was prepared for it. "It was cold toward the end, I thought it was because of my orientation, but it turned out to be something else entirely. Something I didn't even realize until recently," he replied.

Ross nodded and looked at Ash, "What about your mother? What was her influence in your life?" she asked smoothly. Ash was quiet his mother wasn't much of a mother to him, she was more one in name than in actual roll. She wasn't around, he could remember how she had a tendency to frequent other men's beds and never her own husbands. Every time his father and mother were within speaking distance, a shouting match ensued which ended with her storming out of the house to see her fling of the week. "She wasn't around often, she was a workaholic," he stated simply as he attempted to squash the memories of their constant fights. His mother preferred to spend time with Angela, her favorite children. "Your father was a famous Pậtissier, like his father and so on, would you say that baking ran in your blood?" Ross asked. Ash chuckled, she had cut out several generations of Landers who were simply Pậtissier, although their brother's usually were in business. It was odd how the family worked the eldest would manage the fortune while the younger would bake. It wasn't until his uncle died that his father was left with the business. "I suppose, there are several generations of Landers who were Pậtissier, it is entirely possible," he replied.

Several questions later and Ash wanted to jump out of his seat and strangle the woman, she really wasn't the type that knew how to listen. "So the reason you and your father didn't get along was your sexual orientation, which would be?" she pried. Ash groaned, of course of the long speech he had said about how his father had stopped talking to him because he had made the mistake of trying to follow another she bought the false story he had posted on a page years ago. "No, I thought he did and I'm gay, it was actually because I wasn't being me," he stated, "I was so wrapped up in being the best chef that I wasn't allowing my style to appear, I was adhering to someone else's rules," he stated. There was silence as she stared at him, obviously this wasn't a response in which she had drafted questions for. Internally Ash was smirking, the woman had prepared for all the others no doubt but he had managed to stump her.

"What about your parents Sebastian? What was your home life like?" she asked suddenly turning her attention to the other Pậtissier. Ash felt relief sweep over him once the crosshairs of the reporters intrusive questions had shifted to their new target. There was a pause and Ash glanced over to see the chef blanch and looked slightly frightened, his eyes were lost for a moment, and his hands gripped at the arms of the wooden chair which they had been told to sit in so hard that his knuckles turned white. He was silent, "Sebastian?" asked the woman. The chef was snapped back to reality and blinked rapidly as though he were waking up from a dream. "I, I'm an orphan," he replied slowly, "I don't have any memories of my parent." There was silence the rumor had been floating around England and it was the reason the people were behind Sebastian, yet hearing it confirmed was slightly upsetting, the way he said it was painful to witness. "Parent?" she asked tentatively she was venturing into unknown territory which peaked her interest but made her a little nervous. "Yes, my mother died a few months after I was born. My father took care of me for a bit and then," Sebastian's voice trailed off, leaving a void of sadness in it's place. "So you grew up in an orphanage what was it like?" she asked curiously. Ash stared at the chef who now looked irritated, "It was a small place, the nuns were nice," he stated simply. The reporter smiled and looked as though she were about to pounce, "I see, and where did you learn how to bake?" she continued. Ash would have jumped in but he was as curious as she was to learn this.

"Un Boulangerie in town, it was owned by a Master baker, he used to chase us away with a broom on Sundays when we all stood outside the window and drooled at his treats," Sebastian said warmly with a hint of humor in an attempt to throw her off. His French accent began to slip into his speech though, which made Ash stare he hadn't heard the man speak his native language. "Boulangerie?" she asked curiously and Sebastian blushed a tad with embarrassment before smiling sweetly, "Bread Baker, I apologize I forgot you don't have separate bakers here in the UK," he replied nervously, adding a charming smile which dazzled Ross and himself to be honest. He didn't think Sebastian could smile like that. "You are from France?" she asked curiously, it was a natural question to which Sebastian hummed and nodded. His fingers tucked a long bang behind his ear before he continued, "I was born here in England but apparently my father went to France after my mother's death. After that he left me at an orphanage," he replied simply, as though he were talking about the events in a film rather than his own life. It was unnerving in a way to watch someone recall things in this way. His voice held no emotion, it was odd sounding to Ash and sent a chill down his spine.

"You mentioned you learned from a master who owned a Boulangerie. If he chased you guys away how did you get an apprenticeship there? Did a nun arrange it?" she asked hastily, "You sound as though you couldn't even get near the shop." Ash internally sighed, she had honed in on the one fact he didn't guard closely enough, the fact that if the children weren't allowed to loiter before the shop, and Sebastian being an orphan, how did he manage to get the opportunity to train with the baker. Sebastian grit his teeth for a moment, he closed his eyes and replied, "No, one night I ran away from the orphanage. It was raining and he saw me in the street, so he let me in and had me help him clean," he stated. Ash stared at Sebastian, it seemed unlikely and yet not so at the same time, "Why did you run away?" she asked. There was silence for a while, Ash glanced over at Sebastian his face was schooled but he could tell from how he was clasping his hands tightly that something was very wrong. Sebastian's overall demeanor reminded him of a nervous child, one who had never been shown love or kindness who was awaiting his next beating. That was clearly the final straw and he watched as the chef slowly began to shut down, he drew away from her and his arms were suddenly across his chest, his hands were squeezing his upper arms to the point that his fingers were white. "I was- punished," he said simply, "Father Francis was a strict man, and I was scared."

Suddenly the air in the room became heavy, Ash instantly read between the lines, a punishment at a Catholic run orphanage wasn't something he heard many good things about. That statement in itself lead to an array of questions which Ash knew had to be coming, "Why?" Sebastian looked at his hands and replied, "I went into his garden and plucked a rose." There was dead silence, Ash stared at Sebastian that couldn't have possibly been the reason for being punished, simply plucking a rose from a bush wasn't a crime. "Why did you take it?" asked Ross hesitantly. Sebastian looked at her nervously, "I thought it was beautiful and I was going to give it to Sister Amilie, she had been kind to me," he explained, it was a child's logic, innocent and pure. "How did he punish you?" she asked slowly and out of the corner of Ash's eye he could see the producer and director signaling for her to stop. Vincent looked irritated and a certain Golden eyed head chef was restrained by the German Lord who always seemed to shadow Phantomhive. "I forgot, I just remember being scared," Sebastian replied shakily. She was about to pry when Ash stepped in, "Amilie? Isn't' that the name of one of your famous deserts?" he asked. Sebastian smiled brightly and relaxed a little, clearly thanking the chef for his quick move, "Yes, I named it after her, she loved chocolate and oranges," he replied.

The rest of the interview went well as long as Ash kept Ross in check, he may not have liked Sebastian but he wasn't about to let someone with a painful past have it aired on national TV, that was low even for him. "One final question," Ross chirped after an hour and a half of occupying their time, "With everything that has transpired do you think that tonight's show will show the British people who you both are as chefs?" she asked. It was a good question and clearly one that everyone wanted to know. Ash and Sebastian looked at one another before smiling, "Madame you seem to believe that I will simply roll over and die, tonight isn't going to be like any other night, it's going to be different. I have no intention of losing the last challenge," Ash stated firmly. He watched the raven haired Pậtissier smile and realized that he was truly happy, "That's good because I'm pulling out all the stops tonight as well," commented Sebastian making the pair smiled at one another and nod. They were both promising to put up a fight, one more fight before the end. Ross seemed to accept the answer and nodded allowing the pair to leave her clutches.

She honestly reminded Ash of that infernal Rita Skeeter from the Harry Potter books, complete with Quick Notes Quill. Once they were out of earshot Sebastian whispered, "Thank you." It was so soft that Ash nearly missed it, the chef stopped mid stride and looked at the other man. Ash looked at Sebastian, he had seen both sides the confident Chef who could turn heads and then the nervous little boy, who simply didn't want to think about the past. Ash nodded stiffly and stood there for a moment, he could tell Sebastian wanted to say more. "Why?" Sebastian asked. Sebastian smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit which he clearly picked up from hanging around Claude. "Simple, no one deserves that, while my family fought and died due to a tragedy you should have to talk about what happened to you in that dark place," Ash explained, "It doesn't matter the darkness that you are running from, what matters is the light that you are running to."

Sebastian blinked owlishly, something the white haired Patissier didn't expect. "Ash, what made you change?" asked Sebastian hesitantly. The other chef smiled softly and hummed, "You, when you took up my challenge, I realized then just what I might lose," he stated with a smirk. Sebastian nodded as Ash pivoted on his heel and headed toward the photography studio, he didn't know why he said any of that to Sebastian, and at the moment he didn't care, Sebastian needed to hear it, even if it had come from him.

The photo shoot was executed with ease, the photographer seemed to have no quills with either o them. In fact, taking photos of Sebastian seemed to be much easier then interviewing him. "Excellent, the pair of you really take beautiful photographs," the photographer mused. He was about to take another shot when Joker strutted in. He looked beyond irritated, which didn't bode well for both chefs. He sighed and looked at the photographer. "Apparently there's a big shot in town, who has requested that we move the challenge to tomorrow," Joker stated. Ash stared at him bemused, three were very few people on the planet who had that kind of power. "Who?" Ash asked curiously. Joker hummed and liked at Sebastian, "Lucious Faustus," he replied smoothly. Sebastian stared at the man in confusion as did Ash, "Claude's father is here, I thought he was in the States," stated Ash after a moment. He had seen the man's father in action once before, but not in England. Joker sighed and nodded, "Apparently he has a reservation at Ciel and has requested to taste both Sebastian's food as well as Claude's," he stated simply.

Sebastian looked at Ash and then to Joker, the raven haired Pậtissier looked very nervous and suddenly asked, "Does Claude know?" There was silence in the room when all of it's occupants realized that Claude had left to prepare for the evening and had no idea that his father would be dining there.

~~xXx~~

The evening had rolled in like the tide, no matter how the restaurant prepared for it the number of customers grew at an alarming rate, between Sebastian's performances and Claude's own work it was becoming a new idea to go out and enjoy a diner at that place on the corner called Ciel. The result was a bustling front and back of house. Every inch of the floor was covered by the waiters, bartenders, busboys and finally the Sommelier. William's green eyes narrowed as he elegantly moved from table to table with his selection of wine for the evening. His voice rang like a bell through the hall as he work, with steady details pertaining to each bottle, and dish he was in his element. With a hand behind his back and elegant stature while pouring the precious liquid into a glass few realized the treasure of having the man on staff. Even William's name had become common after the challenge in the kitchen wines took on a whole new front in the dining room. It wasn't considered taboo to consult the sommelier or the waiting staff as to the proper bottle to be served. William smiled graciously as he walked onto the floor, his black leather oxfords glistened in the low light as they left clicks in their wake. He was standing in a midnight suit with a sleekly fitted vest of the same fabric but paired with a stunning green tie and mint green shirt which made his eyes jump out. His black hair was smoothed back and his rimless glasses rested on his nose.

His hands were behind his back as he continued across the floor, he seemed to glide and found himself standing beside Ronald at the entrance. The blonde was looking over the list of guests for the evening that were considered VIPs. Christmas was coming and the restaurant was in need of an overhaul soon with the proper decorations. Naturally the list for guests as Christmas drew nearer was growing rapidly to the point that in retrospect they were over booked on some evenings. There simply wasn't enough room and it was Ronald's job to ensure that everyone had received just the right amount of attention and a table. "Who is left?" he asked simply as he looked over Ronald's shoulder. The Head Waiter was swiftly taping on the touch screen as he scanned over the ETAs of different customers. "So far they are all in house, excluding," he drawled and then froze, "It can't be." In seconds those long fingers double tapped the reservation opening it and looking at the details. "Faustus party for three," he stated.

William's eyes narrowed, there was no way that was right, Faustus was in the kitchen and his father would avoid London. He had the distinct misfortune of meeting the man prior to this, and had a feeling that the Hot Shot from Wall Street was still as irritating as he had once been. William slipped his glasses up his nose and looked at Ronald, "Okay you and I will cover this, keep Grell away and do not tell Claude, the last thing I need is another fire in the kitchen, tell that useless manager to get his act together," hissed William before pivoting and walking back through, as he walked by each waiter he tapped them on their shoulder and held up three fingers behind his back. Ronald and William had trained the entire waiting staff, and they all knew what it meant. If a party had been reserved and they were important there were given a number, one finger meant VIP but easily managed, two meant challenging and three was strictly hands off. The fewer people who had contact with the Faustus patriarch the better. Every waiter nodded as or clicked their pan twice, it was a system which worked without fail, all William had to do was ensure that the kitchen didn't know of the events which were to transpire.

William continued off the floor and walked into the cellar, the simple selections he had chosen for the evening wouldn't due, he had to dazzle them. His eyes scanned over the large selection of wine below the stairs. His eyes jumped from rack to rack as he looked for just the right wine. A devious smile curved his lips when he realized he had not only the right bottles to sever but also just the right ones to make mulled wine, it was getting nippy and to be honest it was something that he knew would blow them away. With ease he hoisted the crate up the stairs and began to bring the bottles up to room temperature. Once the bottles were set out on the special VIP table for his exclusive customers he took a look onto the floor and sure enough standing at the entryway was the familiar figures of Lucius Faustus with two others in tow, a beautiful young woman in a long golden gown and a rather stout man with a pair of glasses resting on his nose. Lucius looked the same as before, his golden eyes were narrow, with a firm square jaw and a head of brown hair, it was clear that he was related to the Head Chef. The woman beside him was stunning in the gold dress which had a plunging neckline and was slit to the hip showing off her legs which seemed to go on for miles. She had coffee brown hair and her bright green eyes were full of life. The final man was dressed in simply a gray suit and upon further inspection William recognized him as Monsieur Tari, he internally shivered as he looked at the man. He didn't need the harshest critting from his circles in the restaurant as well as the Head Chef's father, this really wasn't his lucky night.

William drew a deep breath and looked at the floor, he had to face the man who nearly destroyed him, his hands gripped the bottle harshly as he attempted to school his features so that he wasn't trembling. A gentle hand wrapped around his middle and a warmth was pressed against his back. William stiffened and looked over his shoulder at the mop of blonde hair resting on his shoulder. "Will, it's different, you proved him wrong and made a name for yourself. If anything you're going to earn us brownie points," Ronald whispered before pressing his lips to William's neck. "You'll be great," he reassures the Sommelier before slipping around to face him. The Sommelier looked at the blonde who had his lips pursed, "There is one thing we have to fix though," he stated simply.

William stared at the mischievously grinning blonde who was drawing closer to him, there was one advantage to the alcove, it was impossible for the people on the floor to see them. Ronald slipped his hand around the neck of the wine bottle and gently took it from his hands. In moments the bottle was resting on the table. William's eyes widened, "Ronny?" he asked in confusion. The slender Head Waiter slipped his hand through William's tidy black locks, his fingers tangled in it as he went before he slipped his other hand around the man's waist so that they were flush to one another. "Ron?" he asked and was cut off with a pair of lips brushing over his. They were soft and hot, gentle but very hungry. William was in a daze with the bold move, it had been a while since this kind of heat was shared. Instinctively his eyes were locked on the blonde as he slipped his tongue over his lips, William slowly opened his mouth and felt the blonde plunge into it. His supple and leith tongue caressed William's trained and refined tongue, cradling it, teasing it, electrifying it. It tasted better than any merlot or chardonnay. It was wild, hot and making a mess of him, William's eyes fluttered closed as he gripped the Head Waiter. His left hand slipped around the man's neck to hold the blonde in his clutches longer. His right snaked around the man's waist to crush their groins together. A chuckle left the blonde as he slipped from William's grasp, "Better, anyone tell you that you worry too much?" he asked curiously.

Before the Sommelier could reply the Head Waiter had his vest fixed and was out on the floor with a grin on his lips. William tentatively reached up and touched his head, his hair was a mess, he groaned and was about to put it back in place when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He gaped at it in awe, his hair was a mess and down which made him look younger, his lips were slightly swollen and his eyes, their fire was back. He smiled to himself and looked at the back of the Head Waiter, I need to take that to bed tonight," he commented. In seconds he had the bottle in hand and was slipping onto the floor, his strides were firm and he honestly found a new motivator, the thought of tying Ronald up and having fun with the blonde for breaking the rules. He smiled happily as he thought about that firm body on display before him, in moments he was standing before the table with Ronald at his side. "Good Evening and welcome to Ciel. I'm the Sommelier, William T. Spears, may I assist you this evening?" he asked graciously, yet his voice had a ring of authority which made the corners of Monsieur Tari's lips quirk up. "It's nice to see you again Monsieur Spears, I didn't realize you were here, I thought you owned a shop," he commented with a great deal of interest. William smiled, he knew that question was coming, "I know, however the gig here was far too good to pass up," he commented with a grin.

Tari straightened up and looked at him with a hint of shock, "Okay, show us what Ciel has, and don't hold back," challenged the critic. Ronald smiled with glee as William nodded, "Of course, after all nothing is out of the question here," he stated simply. He noticed Lucius stare at Tari, "William and I go far back, in fact he owned a shop in Paris for a long time, after making a name for himself he was called around the world as a wine consultant, I didn't think he would work here though, this place is the hall of angels," he stated simply, "After all it is called Heaven." William grinned before looking at Lucius, "We have met as well," stated William. The woman beside him stared between William and Lucius, "Really?" she asked curiously. Lucius paled and stared at William, "Oh yes, not too long ago either," replied William before turning on his heel, he had the menu in his head all he needed was Ronald to tell him the orders, he was coming to show them just what kind of angels resided in "Heaven" and it's demons.

~~xXx~~

Victoria stared open mouthed at the Head Waiter and the Sommelier, she had seen both in restaurants such as these and they were usually far older and no where near that attractive. William's powerful gait and fiery eyes were filled with passion and made her body tingle, and the Head Waiter was a looker as well, his slender physique made him delectable, his blonde hair was a tad messy but honestly made him look even hotter. His grin was filled with mischief and she was oddly reminded of Pan from a Midsummer's Night's Dream, attractive, charming and a mischievous guy who could bend you to his will. "I'm Ronald Knox, I will be your waiter this evening, what would you like to start with," he began. Victoria smiled as she looked at the menu she wasn't familiar with French cuisine and from what she could tell Monsieur Tari and Lucius would be more than happy to order for the table. "We'll start with your specials, surely your chef will know what to serve," replied Tari. Victoria gaped at the man, there was no way he would have any idea what they would want, "Certainly," Ronald replied with a grin.

Her green eyes widened as she watched the waiter take the menus and leave the floor. "Tari, is that wise?" she asked slowly. Monsieur Tari chuckled and looked at her and chuckled, "The man in that kitchen is an award winning chef, his skill is above those in Paris, the fact that Ciel has him is a gift. After all owners and chefs all over Paris were begging for a chance to have him," Tari remarked with a boyish grin. She stared at the old man, he looked as though he were years away, "And the Sommelier?" she asked curiously. Tari chuckled and looked directly at her, his gray eyes sparkled with mirth, "William T. Spears is the only man to prove me wrong, and it's honestly my pleasure to have him do so," he stated. Victoria stared at him blankly, she didn't understand how being proven wrong would make someone happy. It seemed the opposite of what she knew, polar opposite in fact. "How?" she asked. Tari chuckled and looked at her, he could see the death glare which Lucius had shot at him.

"My dear there is an ancient marriage in Paris, one between food and," he paused as he gestured to himself only to see WIlliam return with a bottle of wine, he had selected a very familiar chardonnay. "Wine, tonight I have selected a 2003 Simi Chardonnay," William finished with a grin as he opened the bottle. Victoria's eyes widened as he plucked the cork from the green glass bottle with ease, the scent of spices and grapes which had soaked up the sun enthralled her. The fragrant bottle seemed to ground her, and make her fly. As always William presented the cork to Lucius and elegantly poured the ladies glass first before Tari and finally Lucius. "Thank you," chirped Tari, as William placed the bottle in an ice bucket. "Of course," he replied before smiling and vanishing from view. "Why did he present Lucius with the cork?" asked Victoria curiously, she usually avoided wine at dinner and had no idea the formalities of serving a single bottle required. "Because I'm paying," replied Lucius gruffly as he looked at the cork.

Tari snorted and shook his head, "Atypical American's," he stated as he snatched the cork from before Lucius and held it between his fingers. He looked at the stamp on the cork and ran his fingers over it, "Do you know what this really is?" asked Tari smoothly, there was a hint of humor in his voice. She shrugged and replied, "To smell?" Tari chuckled and shook his head, it was actually a very amusing reaction to watch, his laughter seemed to ring and the smile made him only seem younger. "No my dear, it verifies that the wine in the bottle is that of the vineyard and vintage," he stated. He held the cylindrical light brown cork in his hands and dropped it into her open palm. "You see, every vineyard and winery has their own stamp, it's the same as the seal on the lids and the bottles. Below the stamp is the name of the vineyard and the year the bottle was produced," he stated simply. Victoria looked at the slightly damp cork between her fingers and ran the pads of her fingers over the impressions which had been made to spell the name of the vineyard. If only verifying the authenticity of a relationship was enough.

~~xXx~~

The kitchen was roaring as the stoves were lit, chefs were jumping to and fro looking for any open space they could to work. Claude was at the helm as always, however this time he was over a stove cooking oysters, "Hannah, watched those shrimp!" he commanded from across the room, only to hear a loud, "Yes chef!" The evening was swamped with customers looking for everything from the traditional to the unique and everything inbetween. Sebastian was working quickly, his hands were so swift that there were points in time Claude wondered if the man simply summoned the dishes complete. The doors opened to Ronald Knox standing in them, "Table 33, VIP Special Orders all night," called Ronald. Claude paused and looked up, that was either a critic or his father. His hands stilled as it dawned on him, his father was in his restaurant, "Knox, get William on that table! Server the," he shouted before he could finish the Sommelier was standing there with a grin on his face, "2003 Simi Chardonnay," finished William.

Claude smiled, usually he would lecture his father for even stepping foot in his work place, however this gave him the perfect chance to show the man up. "Attention table 33 is to be handled by myself and Sebastian, it's a very special VIP," he called. Sebastian looked up quizzically before shrugging and returning to work, "Done," stated Sebastian. Claude turned around and stared at them, his eyes were filled with determination. "Knox, take these to my father, and say with compliments from the chef," he stated. Three small square plates were presented with a piece of puff pastry, with a bed of mushrooms, some fennel and a beautifully seared piece of fillet mignon. It was a bite sized portion which made William smile, it would couple that chardonnay perfectly in his opinion since the Simi was rather dry and just right.