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.

To Sebassy-chan: Y'know, that's what I was afraid of. I wish you were here earlier in the story! It's strange how you mention Mer's character not being "fleshed out" because in the first place, I wanted readers to antagonize her for her single-mindedness. But I was hoping to (finally) have her have some sort of epiphany in this chapter. Thanks for the insightful review and I'm not insulted by it. Matter of fact, I love you for it. No one likes to be critiqued, but it's not reasonable to have a whole tub of hate for the person trying to help out. I want to hear from you more often, to see if I did a decent job here.

XI. The Baker, Seriously Musing

(In which Mer is serious for the first time in her life...)

It's been three days living with Claude. He had taken me to an abandoned manor, judging by how everything seemed to be a little less welcoming. Of course, it wasn't a problem for him to tidy things up. I noticed he had a strange ritual as he hopped onto the upstairs banister and began tap-dancing.

After his performance, he was able to change the manor's dusty appearance in less than two minutes. It was impressive, but I didn't feel impressed. I guess he was eager to show off now that I decided to leave the Phantomhive manor. I wondered occasionally how Sebastian was doing then shook myself out of it. He was probably glad that the arrogant and improper baker girl was out of his life.

I absentmindedly carried out the tasks I was responsible for back there. Claude didn't seem to care that I was baking too much. He even went so far as to taste the pastries I made and said that the flavor was too bitter. I didn't care. My passiveness had branched out in one thing I loved to do: baking. Was I that desperate for a man that it's affected my passion?

It was difficult to accept that he didn't want me, yet why not accept what was so painstakingly obvious? Although I had surrendered, the girl with the determination of a single-minded shark was urging me to go back. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Go back and take what's yours!"

I watched silently as Claude took off my boot and started massaging my leg. It wasn't as relaxing as it ought to have been. Sebastian's not yours, I viciously thought. He deserves better than you, anyway. Grell has a better chance than you do. Just what was I thinking back then? Was the goal of getting in Sebastian's pants the only thing I had going for me? This is what happens when you come to terms to having no life. It was sad, yet my pig-headed mind had no desire to accept the truth.

It was then I realized that I needed some growing up to do. Deciding to run away from Sebastian wasn't a sign of maturity; it was as equally childish and crude as my goal was. To tell you the truth, readers, all that talk about ravishing Sebastian was all a farce. Most women saw Sebastian only for his looks and charm. I was no different and foolishly went after him in hopes of him seeing me differently. I thought, "Since I'm being more forward, he should accept me."

How wrong I was.

I knew I had a lot of growing up to do if I was confusing lust for love because I was really searching for the latter and I painfully reasoned that it wasn't there with Sebastian. It was like Claude said. He had his duties to Ciel and I was a tool to help him accomplish them. I didn't need to believe that Sebastian loved me in that single moment four days ago. He had been using me, but I held no hard feelings because I had known that he was. It was the truth.

But why was I still pining for that man?

"Is this to your liking, Lady Mer?" Claude asked, and I immediately stepped back into reality when he brought his lips to my foot. Nothing, but bile in my throat. Just what was I looking for in Claude, again? The heat in his golden eyes was too much to directly look at. He observed that I was slightly disgusted, and stopped molesting my leg.

"Michaelis might have been right," he commented derisively, taking off my other boot. "He has dominion over you. Your heart and mind."

A sudden wave of rage came over me, and I kicked him in the nose.

"Watch your mouth!" I exclaimed. And here I was, lying to myself once again.

"Is he who you really want?" the imitator challenged, opening his mouth to let his tongue snake across his nose. Oh, why was my inner pervert entertained by that so much? Claude must have sensed my lingering thought for reason he smirked ever-so-slightly. "Are you interested in what a true demon can make you feel?"

How could he gather that from a kick in the nose? Why, he was more desperate than I had been-okay, that might have been an exaggeration. Then again, what he said was true. He was a demon, and he was only prepared to cater to me as long as he was able to obtain my soul, which was suddenly appetizing.

Was I searching for love? I certainly wasn't finding it here.

"No, I'm not," I replied. "Your idea of giving me 'what I deserve' is not what I really want."

His interest was peaked. "Oh?"

I laced up my boots and stomped his face, hearing a satisfying crunching noise. I broke his glasses.

Sebastian might never want me, but at least, he never gave me what I thought I wanted. In some strange way, it lead me to the conclusion that I was just now starting to fall for him. Not because of his charms, but in helping me realize that I needed to stop being stupid. Really stupid.

And I loved him for it. What could I say?

"Take me back to the Phantomhive manor, Faustus," I commanded. Claude had a strange look on his face, like he was surprised and overwhelmed at the same time. Just as I was about to repeat myself, there was a resounding knock on the door. Claude cleared his throat, straightening himself out as he pulled out an extra pair of glasses. He went over to the door. I followed closely behind, keeping out of the visitor's view.

"Yes?" the butler curtly greeted. A nervous voice answered him.

"A-Ah, yes. I'm h-here a-as a representative of t-the P-Phantomhive Estate."

"Did Michaelis send you?"

"I-I'm here to retrieve Miss M-Mer Sullivan."

The voice was familiar, according to my memory. It was more subdued than the voice I had heard some time ago. I decided to see who came to my rescue. A timid-looking brunet seemed to cower under Claude's emotionless gaze.

"Tell Michaelis that he has missed his opportunity. Lady Mer does not desire to be owned by him," he said.

"M-Mr. Faustus, y-you have to g-give h-her to me o-or e-else," the brunet said, in what seemed to be a less-than-threatening tone.

"Or else, what?" the demon urged. The brunet suddenly smiled, revealing his sharp-toothed grin.

"Strawberries and cherries~!" he cried flamboyantly, charging the butler with a chainsaw. He went inside the foyer and grabbed my hand, hurriedly rushed to get me out of the manor.

"Ms. Grell, what-" I started to say.

"Not now, Sullivan. You don't want to be crushed, do you?" he responded hastily. When I was going to ask what we were in danger of being crushed by, a ton of strawberries and cherries cascaded down on Claude.

"Thank you, Ms. Grell," I said to the Reaper, who just scoffed.

"Don't thank me. Thank Bassy!" he enthused, crossing his arms then getting in my face. "You don't deserve his forgiveness, you know. I am faithful by my man and would never be low enough to do what you've done!"

I was silent, knowing that he was right. He was back in his disguise to drive a carriage back to the manor. I was too ashamed to look Sebastian in the eye and told him that I apologize for the worry I must have caused the others. Mostly to the Young Master for depriving him of his favorite desserts. I was missed by the rest of my co-workers. Even Pluto, who licked my face excitedly.

Then life went on.

Approximately a week after my official surrender to the Phantomhive butler, I found that my life just seemed a bit dimmer than usual. I had set foot in here for the first time, with a purpose: get enough money to pay off my father then get out. When I set my eyes on Sebastian's…assets, that got changed to get enough money to pay off my father and throwing my newfound funds on the handsome butler's unclad body.

Now that I have sorted my feelings out, it was back to being the plain old baker girl who wasn't into achieving anything big. Currently, I was chopping up fruits while contemplating what could gone wrong and how things would have turned out differently. In my distraction, I cut my finger.

"Bollocks!" I swore, stabbing the wooden cutting board.

"Now, now. It's not appropriate for a lady to swear," a smooth voice chastised, sounding disapproving. I sighed. Life is unfair. "What are you upset about?"

Calming down, I answered him, "Apparently, I can't cut fruit right. There is nothing you need to busy yourself with, Mr. Sebastian."

The head butler moved close to me, laying his hands over mine. I had to stop myself from overreacting ("Who have I become?" asks the inner pervert) and took his invasion of privacy in stride. This was Sebastian Michaelis; he was naturally unnerving.

"Gently press down," he instructed softly, guiding my hand and applying pressure. Eventually, the fruit was evenly cut and I thanked Sebastian for his assistance. He didn't leave, though. He took one of the slices and made a spectacle of eating it, grinning down at me.

"Succulent, yet sweet. Perfect flavors for a pie, wouldn't you agree?" he questioned, maroon eyes full of mischief as he pulled away from me. Did he just…no, he wouldn't. He wouldn't even waste his time. I placed the pie in the oven, going outside to the courtyard. Pluto greeted me happily. I welcomed him, scratching his snout. Finnian was nearby, making a mess out of the trees and bushes.

"Hello, Mer!" he cheerfully called, his bright smile receding when he became aware of my slightly disturbed face. "What's the matter?"

"Hello, Finni. Nothing is wrong," I lied.

"You're lying, aren't you?"

What was he, a bloody psychic? In an instant, my inner pervert broke out of her prison and I was too slow to stop her.

"I just don't know what to do. I think Sebastian wants to eat my pie."

"Everyone thinks your pie is great, Mer! Even the Young Master thinks so himself! What's so bad about that?"

"I don't want him to eat my pie just to prove he can have it before anyone else, Finnian," the pervert baker girl said, having enough decency to skip along to the poor gardener's misinterpretation. He didn't need to hang around this side of me. I reigned the pervert back into her cage, feeling the heat creeping up my neck.

"Oh," he simply said. "Then don't give it to him, now. Save it for later. Maybe we could share!"

Oh, Lord, why was my mind such a wicked place?

Because you can't hide what's inside~

A/N: Wow. Mer was actually serious in this chapter. She's really looking to change. How long will that last? Review.