Saturday morning found Ciel walking into one of the rattiest stores he'd ever seen. He had been walking the city with Alois and his friend dragged him inside. The lower level of the building was boarded up but a spiral staircase led to the store above. He reluctantly followed the blond chatterbox into the shop identified only as "Zira's" according to the hand painted sign above the door. Anything old and dirty looking seemed to catch Alois' eye.

"Hello!" squeaked a voice behind the counter.

"Hi!" Alois chirped back, reminding Ciel of birds communicating across the trees from each other.

Then he laid eyes on his surroundings and had a change of heart. There were books from wall to wall. Above each bookcase was a painted sign with a genre. There looked to be many old ones but even they were in pristine condition, their spines smooth and uncreased. Ciel was agape when a tiny blond girl stood up from behind the counter with dust on her nose and arms laden with books. She made a sound of terror when Alois reached out to help her, clutching the books tighter.

"Dad would kill me if I let anyone touch these, they're first editions. I only took them out to clean the display case."

Alois hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Your dad sounds worse than this nerd back here. So he owns the place?"

"I do."

A platinum haired man emerged from the back room who couldn't have denied his daughter if he died trying. They had the same large blue eyes and fair hair, even sharing a faint splash of freckles across their noses. His slender body was swallowed by a long cardigan. Ciel ran his fingers down the spine of a leather bound edition of A Study In Scarlet. "This is quite a place you have here."

The man smiled. "Thank you. Feel free to take a look around, you may touch the books if you're gentle."

Ciel stayed put in the mystery section. The books could have been brand new, but there was thin layer of dust on the floor and a spiderweb in the corner of the room. It was sad, seeing such valuable things in a place like this. The floorboards creaked when he walked. His father probably wouldn't have let him walk in the door when he saw the state of it. He crouched in front of the glass display case where the girl was putting the first editions back on stands. Alois joined him and whistled.

"I bet there's some money in here," Alois said.

"If there's so much money in here I don't understand why they wouldn't fix the place up."

The back of the display case slammed shut. Zira looked up fussing with his sweater, probably panicked at the thought of harm coming to his precious books. His daughter glared at Ciel and Alois with tears threatening to spill over her long, doll like eyelashes. "Get out," she said through gritted teeth.

Ciel stood up. She clearly had no idea his father could buy this building and send them on their way. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're a stuck up asshole. This shop has been my father's pride and joy for as long as I can remember, and you would come in here and insult it? Get out!"

Ciel seethed, ready for a fight, but Alois took his arm and pulled him toward the door. "Come on."

He ranted during most of the walk home. They obviously needed every dime they could get and had the nerve to throw out a potential customer. Their lack of business savvy was abhorrent. He said as much to Alois, who was nodding and making a noise of agreement every so often. Ciel doubted he was listening. When he started raving his friend knew he wouldn't be able to get a word in and would just pretend to listen to be nice. Ciel took a deep breath as he walked into the house. He didn't feel like recounting the whole ordeal to his parents who he knew would ask questions if they noticed his mood.

"Don't you have to go soon?" Alois asked.

Ciel tapped his phone and looked at the time. "I didn't realize how late it was, I better change."

He made quick work of changing out of his sweater into a long sleeved tee shirt that would be easier to move around in. Not five minutes later he was on his way back out the door. Tanaka was waiting for him, and as soon as Ciel was in the car, they were off. He felt his frustration about the shopkeepers ebbing at the thought of the day ahead. Going to the club didn't put him a good mood, exactly, but a different one at least. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Call me whenever you're ready to leave, sir," Tanaka said.

Ciel waved and went up to the door of Underworld. He knocked, aware that it didn't open for several hours, and was blinded by red as it swung open. Grelle stepped back to let him in. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, long legs encased in black jeans, and a red lacy tank top hung from her shoulders. She was the most flat chested woman Ciel had ever seen. He thanked her and looked around. The club was barely recognizable, save for the bar and the piano. The tables had been replaced with long dining tables upstairs and the main room was one big dance floor. The platform where the DJ usually worked looked ready to house a full orchestra.

He stepped on to the lower of the two platforms where Sebastian was wiping the piano down with something that made it shine. "You could have left me something to help with."

"I did, don't worry." Sebastian stood up and shook his hair out of his eyes. Like Grelle, he was dressed down in jeans and he wore a long sleeved black shirt with a V-neck. It was a good look for him. His lip curled up and Ciel knew he had been caught staring. "Did I miss a spot on the piano?"

Ciel ignored him. "Where can I start?"

"If you look, there are cones hanging about the room. The arrangements for them are behind the bar if you would put them out."

There was indeed a large box of carefully arranged fresh flowers, tied together with ribbon. He started working downstairs since Grelle seemed to be undertaking the same task on the upper level. He observed her as she moved around. There was something not right about her, too, and it was irking him. The employees of this club plagued his weakness for mysteries to no end. With such a small amount of makeup, the structure of her face was...harder, perhaps was the right word. Maybe she was older than he first thought. He debated this until the box was empty and the club was full of lilies and hyacinth.

He opened the door that divided the two shelves of liquor and made his way to the back. There was a room for dishwashing, a smaller room that appeared to be an office, and a store room. He walked through the maze of crates. The store room was almost as large as the club itself, he couldn't fathom why they would need this much extra product. Surely alcohol would still be available to purchase in five years. He came to the back wall and went to open the door he found there.

Except he couldn't. There was the outline of a door but no knob or handle. He pushed, but it didn't move. His brows knitted together as he felt along the edge. There was no slot for a keycard, how the hell did it open? He was trying to feel along the top of the door when a hand covered his and held it still.

"Did you need something?"

He turned, hand still trapped, and found himself almost pressed against Sebastian. With his not-quite-red eyes, the bartender could have been a demon in the poorly lit room. His arm stretched above Ciel's head to hold his hand in place and his face turned down to speak to him, he was close enough for Ciel to feel his every exhalation. His breath smelt deliciously of black cherry. Ciel hoped Sebastian couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. If he did, hopefully he would chalk it up to Ciel being nervous he had done something wrong.

"I was trying to find the back door." He raised the cardboard box in explanation.

"You can leave it, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

Sebastian released his hand, but kept his own braced on the wall behind him. Maybe the lighting was playing tricks on him but Ciel thought he saw a hunger in those eyes. Sebastian's tongue slid out to lick his lips, and Ciel was helpless to watch, listening to his blood pound in his ears. The way Sebastian looked at him was making him excited and afraid at the same time. He was alone, too far into the club for anyone to hear him if he called out, not that he could see Grelle rushing to his aid. He didn't think Sebastian was that kind of person but he didn't know him well enough to rule it out.

He flinched when he saw Sebastian's other hand move toward him. It came to rest on his neck and he went rigid. In his mind he saw it close around his throat, cutting off the supply of air to his brain. He was starting to panic when Sebastian asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'd like for you to let me go."

Sebastian's hand slid up his neck to cup his jaw. "Is that all you would like?"

Ciel sucked in a deep breath. Sebastian was stroking his cheekbone with his thumb and it was very distracting. He leaned up until their lips nearly touched. He saw the slight widening of Sebastian's eyes and smirked as the bartender leaned in. "Yes, that's all," he said as he ducked out from under Sebastian's arm.

He made his way out of the store room on wobbly knees. He heard Sebastian's voice before it was lost in the maze of boxes and crates. "You are going to be a treat."

It was almost time to open the doors when he walked out into the club. Grelle had changed into low pumps and a one shoulder evening gown in deep crimson. She was finishing her French braid in her reflection in a wine glass. Ciel looked around, trying to see if there was anything left to do. He hadn't done much but he didn't feel bad about that, as he would have been more productive if not for Sebastian. The thought of their encounter made him shiver and flush at the same time. He could no longer deny his suspicions that his father's employee had taken a liking to him.

"Let's open it up!" Sebastian said, coming out in his usual black ensemble with the addition of a tailcoat.

Ciel stood against the wall out of the way. Once everyone made their entrances he would slip out, but he wasn't going to fight his way out the door with all the guests coming in. He looked around as Grelle propped open the doors, amazed that this was the same club he came to for his birthday. It was hard to believe it had ever been anything except a ballroom. He could hardly take any credit since all he'd done was hang some flowers but Grelle and Sebastian had outdone themselves.

He recognized some of the people who walked in as major business players. A couple came to say hello before joining in the festivities. He waited until the torrent of people stopped pouring through the door to take his leave, but the next man through the door froze him in his tracks. Sebastian asked why he looked like a deer caught in the headlights but he just stared dumbly at the blond man and his daughter. He was dressed in a full suit now, and his daughter wore a periwinkle cocktail dress. Both their outfits were of the finest design and craftsmanship.

"I didn't think they were anyone important," he groaned. The teenage girl's head turned and he scrambled backward. "No, don't look over here!"

Sebastian caught his shoulders. "Are you quite alright?"

"Hide me, now."

The taller man looked confused but he bowed his head slightly. "As you wish."

Piano music filled the room. Grelle sat on the bench, hands moving across the keys in a way that could have only resulted from years of practice. She disappeared from Ciel's view when he was pulled into the crowd of dancers. He cringed as Sebastian pulled him into form for a waltz. Dancing had never been his strongest talent, and was always treacherous for his partner's toes. He didn't know if it would be worse to be seen by the bookstore owner or to be seen dancing. He tried to move his feet in time with Sebastian's but much to his dismay, his partner was a fantastic dancer. His closeness to Sebastian wasn't making it any easier to concentrate.

"Dancing is all about falling into rhythm with your partner," Sebastian said, noticing his distress.

"I don't know how to do that."

The hand on his lower back pulled him closer. Sebastian began to move slowly. "Let yourself feel the movements of my body, and yours will follow if you allow it to."

Focusing on the way Sebastian's body moved wasn't helping at all. Or at least he thought it wasn't. It was taking his attention from his footwork, as his eyes followed every languid movement, and soon his own body began to follow it as well. He was no professional by far but he was managing. He laughed as Sebastian twirled him and pulled him back in. Sebastian smiled, leading them into a natural turn.

"The Fords are upstairs, if you need to escape."

Ciel let himself be danced to the edge of the floor. "Thank you."

"See, I'm not so bad." Sebastian winked and gave him a gentle push off the dance floor.

Ciel failed to repress a smile as he looked back. He sent a message to Tanaka on his way outside. As the fresh air hit him, he discovered just how tense he had been in there. He leaned against the wall and watched the traffic crawling by. It would be awhile before he saw Tanaka, as congested as the roads were in the early evening. He wondered what it would be like, to live like Sebastian or even Grelle. To have to work for your livelihood but to not be bound by the opinions of other, to not be suffocated by the politics of business. He'd always known his future was decided for him. He had been learning about his family's company and how to run it since he could do basic math. The freedom the working class had would be overwhelming, to choose your own path of the countless options in the world. He almost envied them that.

The door next to him opened and closed. He looked over at Sebastian. "Quit following me."

"I just work here." Sebastian reached into his pocket. "I hoped you would still be around when I got the chance to slip away. Here."

Ciel took the folded piece of stationary and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not giving you mine."

"I'm not asking for yours. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Ciel. Thank you for your company today," Sebastian said, and was gone as swiftly as he came.

Ciel watched the door swing shut, sliding the paper back and forth between his fingers. If not for the stationary he could have believed Sebastian had never been there, as brief as their encounter had been. He looked at the ten numbers scrawled in elegant handwriting.

By all means he should have left it right there on the sidewalk and not thought anything else of it. He definitely shouldn't have put it in the pocket of his jeans. He could have thrown it away when he got home, but he didn't do that either.

"How was it?" Rachel asked when he came in.

"It was alright, we got it done." She looked like she wanted every detail of her son's first day of hard work, but he made a run for the stairs. "I'm going to get ahead on schoolwork."

He closed his door, pulled the crumpled paper out of his back pocket, and threw it on the bed. It became his bookmark while he studied. He had the naive hope the ink would fade and take his conflicted feelings with it, but it was as clear as the print in his textbook. He closed his calculus book on the taunting phone number and opened his laptop. A couple of clicks later and his half finished English essay filled the screen. He situated himself against the headboard, eager for his favorite subject to clear his mind. The cursor on the document blinked at him expectantly.

One forced paragraph later he accepted defeat. He closed his laptop and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, he stared at his calculus book. He finally snatched his phone off the charger, opened the book, and replaced the stationary with a Post-It flag. He looked between the phone number and his lock screen. A swipe of his thumb, a tap to his home screen, and he was staring at a blank message. He entered the number and touched the empty body of the text. It was just a text, he wasn't committing to anything, he told himself. His fingers were trembling with nerves when he pressed send.

Can you keep a secret?