Author's Note: I want to thank all of you for being so patient. I started training for my new job recently, I'm working in a deli, it's not glorious but the pay is good and I happen to enjoy it. Don't worry I double as a baker too! Now if anyone knows a candlestick maker I think I'm set. I already met the butcher. Anyway, until I master my schedule expect to see updates a little sporadic. I'm still getting the hang of the slicer, which is way too much fun..

I hope you enjoy the sweets, treats and drama.

Chapter 11: Confrontation and Confections

Sebastian sighed with relief after the Undertaker, Vincent, Alois and Ciel had left. The only one left in the room with him was Claude. Those golden eyes were still locked on him, the entire time he had crafted the cheese cake they followed his hands. He could feel it, it was primal yet reassuring, those golden eyes which were slowly peaking at him through the darkness. He could tell Claude wasn't pleased with him, he had done well with the Undertaker. After all, he had managed to prevent Ciel from losing a star. Yet, that didn't soothe his own nerves. Angela was out for blood, and if he didn't get the money soon enough, she would do something so drastic that it couldn't be undone.

Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, his hands flattened out on the counter as another surge of pain went through him. He had to get the white coat off before the blood that was slowly tinting the bandages under his skin began to show. Money, it always came down to money, regardless of what he did someone was always looking for a payout. In reality Ciel was no better than Angela, he was merchandise, something which could be traded and sold easily. In reality if Ciel wanted he could throw Sebastian out, and simply look for another chef. Sebastian whimpered after a moment, his head felt heavy, and he had ached all over since that morning. When he had first woken up he thought it was because he had another nightmare involving Angela beating him.

He wasn't sure which was worse, Angela or Francis. Both hurt, and both scared him. He sighed and lifted his head, there was only one thing he knew he had to do now, and that was bake. He had to fool the others into thinking he was okay, he couldn't lose his job, he couldn't afford to lose the people who cared about him, and he couldn't handle those golden eyes looking down on him with contempt. "I'm alright, I'm still here," he whispered before pulling a chocolate bar and a knife. It was time to make Amalie, perhaps she could ease some of the pain like she had when he was a child.

~~xXx~~

Claude was still as he looked at Sebastian, his eyes never left the man, he had to know what was going on. He was still concerned, something wasn't quite right, and he knew it. As soon as Vincent, Ciel, Alois and the Undertaker had left there was something in his eyes which, made Claude even more nervous, worry. The other chefs were busy preparing for the evening, and he noticed how pale Sebastian was. The pastry chef pulled out a knife and began to cut chocolate, Claude was about to say something when he was called away again.

The blood tinted napkin felt as though it weighed a ton in his pocket, slowly dragging him down to the earth. Normally he wouldn't approach a chef about their personal life, but Sebastian was beginning to scare him. Earlier he would have said the man had returned to his former self, the same flirtatious smile and glint of mischief as he spoke of his work. However, watching him now was another story. He certainly wasn't soulless, he was fearful, dread and worry seemed to emanate off of him.

Part of him hoped that there would be few dessert orders for the evening, Sebastian looked as though he had been through hell. Claude shook his head and sighed, that wasn't right Sebastian was in hell with a pearly exterior. There was no denying the demands of Ciel or even thinking that he could. He had survived the Undertaker, yet there was still more to come. Knowing Ciel, the young man was planning something extravagant to showcase his entire staff. He hummed as he looked up at the clock, the night was coming quickly.

~~xXx~~

Ronald glided across the floor and smiled as he took the order of yet another guest, Ciel was packed. It was a beautiful sight to see the floor full of hungry and dazzled customers. In the back the only concern seemed to be Sebastian, however, the orders for dessert didn't let up. They continued to fall on top of the chef who was currently floundering in the back. He was on his way back to the kitchen when he felt a light touch on his arm. "Excuse me," said a soft and rather beautiful voice, it was shrouded in lavender and musk.

Ronald stiffened, he was never one for perfume he found it to be irritating how much women put on. His green eyes fell on a woman dressed in a tight white leather bodice, which did nothing to hide her assets. She wore a pair of form-fitting trousers and high heels. Her violet eyes were bright, and he noticed how her hair was clasped behind her head. "Yes?" asked Ronald hesitantly, he didn't need to get busted for flirting with a guest. That would end poorly. "I'm looking for the owner, Ciel Phantomhive," she said with a sensual air.

Ronald noticed how her lips curved in a smile, there was something unnerving about this woman, he just couldn't figure it out. "Did you ask the front desk?" he asked after a moment. The woman hummed and replied with a hint of defeat, "Soma told me to speak to you," she commented. Ronald could feel glances on him, he had to get those orders to the kitchen he didn't have time for this, "Wait by the bar, if you told Soma that you are looking for Ciel changes are he will meet you here eventually," he stated before turning and heading back to work.

He could feel her eyes bore into his back which irritated him a little. He pushed open one of the doors and entered the kitchen, "Order up!" shouted Claude. Ronald would usually grab the order, but decided he needed to know this now. As unprofessional as it sounded, he felt uncomfortable with that woman on the floor. She looked at him as though he were something to sell. "Claude, does Ceil know a woman with violet eyes and white hair?" asked Ronald. The Head Chef glared at him, his look spelt murder, which was to be expected. "Knox, what does that matter, I need these out on the floor," he hissed.

Ronald sighed and replied, "Usually I would agree, however there's something not quite right, she requested specifically to speak to him." There was a pause, very few people requested to see Ciel, it was a common occurrence for critics to desire to speak to him as well as investors. Yet, she looked nothing like either of those. "What did she look like?" asked Claude again with a hint of irritation. No one wanted to deal with two critics in one day. "She was rather tall, with white hair, violet eyes, alabaster skin and this really strange smile. She kind of gave off a death aura," he commented. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sebastian drop a knife and turn pale white. There was no way that was a coincidence. He began to pray that she wasn't a French critic.

"Where is she?" asked Claude quickly as he looked over a plate and waved it off. "At the bar," replied Ronald smoothly. Golden eyes pierced him like knives, "Let Agni and Soma take care of it, I need this food out on the floor," he stated. Ronald nodded quickly before glancing in Sebastian's direction. He was deathly pale and looked as though he had seen a ghost. Who ever that woman was, it was enough to scare Sebastian.

~~xXx~~

Angela took a seat at the bar and tapped her fingers on the cherry counter. Her eyes never left her own reflection which stared back at her thanks to the polish they had used to keep it clean. "What can I get for you, Miss?" a voice asked, calling her from her thoughts of how to sell Sebastian. She had to get rid of him, she knew he wasn't going to have the money, and she was sick of waiting. If she could get his employer to pay his debt, she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and would be free to take care of other accounts. Angela smiled as she looked up, standing before her was a long red-haired bartender with a pair of red glasses on his nose and a rather wide smile. "I'll have a Whisper," she said with a grin, the bartender wasn't half bad looking, too much red for her taste but overall easy on the eyes.

"Coming up," he stated, she caught a glimpse of his tag as he turned away. "Grell, when does the owner usually come in?" asked Angela as she watched him measure out the liquor required for her cocktail and pour it over ice in the shaker. The crimson bartender sighed and commented, "Ciel? He won't be here for a while, he didn't plan on coming tonight." Angela sat up and looked at him, most bartenders would be more guarded, he was a little too open. She hummed as she watched his shake the shaker. "Oh?" she asked and tilted her head to the side with a grin, "Why?"

Grell pursed his lips as he lowered the shaker and responded, "Something about talking to the Undertaker after Sebastian's review." There was a paused, now she was interested. She had heard that Sebastian was a chef, however she had no idea how good she was. Clearly he was good enough to attract the attention of the famous critic. "How did it go?" she asked the crimson bartender as he poured her cocktail in a glass and set out a coaster. He hummed as he placed his drink before her, "Rather well, he was blown away by a cheese cake, I'll never understand what that crazy hot critic was thinking," Grell commented before crossing his arms and looking at her. She could tell he was interested in what she wanted to talk about.

"And the chef?" she asked after a moment with a grin, if he was good enough to floor that man she could charge triple. "Sebastian? He's a beauty, I would knock him over and have him fuck me senseless," commented the red-head with a grin. Angela chuckled she could never see Sebastian on top, but what ever worked. "So I've heard, how much is he worth to Ciel?" she asked curiously as her fingers gripped the rim of the glass. It was cold and smooth to the touch, Grell may not have looked it but he had some skill with liquor. There was a pause as she watched the red-head tap his index finger to his chin, "I'm not sure exactly but a lot. He's doubled Ciel's income, which is impressive," he commented.

Angela hummed, perhaps he was a good investment, Sebastian's father would have been worth a great deal if his hair brained scheme worked. However, Sebastian was clearly the gem, the question now was how much was he worth to Ciel.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian felt his world crashing around him, it was over she was in the restaurant asking for the owner. She was going to destroy everything he had worked so hard to hide. The night was busy, and he felt the pressure slowly getting to him. He slowly looked up and noticed that there were two hours left. Just two more hours before he could dash out there and take care of Angela himself. He knew it would hurt. He didn't have the money, prior to the Undertaker he had gone to a number of banks to ask for a loan. With his last name no bank would touch him, as far as they were concerned he was too high risk.

He picked up the knife once again and began to cut another bar, he had to finish the chocolate mousse, the first had come out too flat so, he had to restart. He had miscalculated, absently he began to wonder just how often he was miscalculating. That morning he was alright, however now it felt like all he did was remake the bases. He had managed to change out of the white coat and was now in the black one, but that didn't stop the stinging he felt. His head felt even heavier, and he closed his eyes, "Two hours," he muttered as he attempted to continue. "Chef! I need another Tart de Citron!" called Ronald.

Sebastian looked up and nodded he swiftly plated the tart and was about to hand it off when the world spun. His legs went weak as he was suddenly falling to the floor, everything ached. "Fuck! Sebastian!" screamed a familiar voice, he attempted to move the plate he had been holding crashed to the floor causing the beautiful tart to break. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him as a flustered voice shouted, "Canterbury take over, Hannah you're plating pastries!" It felt as though Sebastian was trapped in his own body as he watched the Head Chef shift from his cold and distant self to a panicked chef. "Hey, stay with me," barked Claude. Those golden eyes which held admiration now held fear, they were a beautiful color so strong and elegant. Sebastian whimpered before closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to take him.

~~xXx~~

Ciel walked into the restaurant, and Soma immediately grabbed him, "There is a woman at the bar, and Angela Blanc. She says she is here to see you," said the concierge. The slate haired young man looked at Soma in confusion, "I don't know a Blanc," he replied with a hint of irritation. He wasn't in the mood for this, he had a long night and still needed to question Sebastian. "She said it's about Sebastian," Soma stated. Ciel's eyes snapped to the hazel eyes of the Indian Concierge, "Sebastian, my Pastry Chef?" he asked curiously. Soma simply nodded and looked at him, there was silence as Ciel attempted to assess the situation. He felt a certain uneasiness fill him, "Where is she?' he asked after a moment.

There was a pause and Ciel could tell Soma wasn't sure, which meant he had sent her into the room as a guest. "At the bar," replied Agni as he appeared behind the Indian. Ciel looked at the white-haired manager and nodded. "Thank you," he replied as he turned on his heel, this was a turn in events he didn't see coming. He walked through the dining room and made his way to the bar. His eyes fell on its sole occupant, besides the bartender, his lips parted as he watched her spin around on the stool her violet eyes were daring and now he could understand Soma's discomfort. There was something dark and strangely unnerving about this woman. Something he would rather not deal with.

"Mrs. Blanc?" asked Ciel as he drew nearer, the woman smiled broadly and held up her glass. "You must be Ciel, Grell was telling me about the little lord who ran this place," she remarked as she looked at him. Ciel felt rage bubble inside him, Sebastian had called him the "Little Master" however he oddly didn't see an issue with it. He was after all a little master, yet when she drawled his title, it felt as though she were dragging it through the mud. Her voice was disgustingly sensual and Ciel felt as though he were talking to a poorly dressed tart, and not a respectable woman. "I was told you desired to speak with me about my newest hire, Sebastian Michaelis," commented Ciel.

The woman crossed her legs, "I heard you weren't one for chit-chat, I suppose we should cut to the chase," she slipped off the stool and placed a thick bundle of money on the counter. Grell stared blankly at the wad and she stated, "Keep the change." Her eyes glided over to Ciel, he had a feeling this woman was here to do something he wouldn't like. There was a pause in which he began to wonder just what this woman wanted. "But first, I think we should change location," she stated. Ciel crossed his arms, he didn't like being ordered by a guest, no matter who it was. He owned the place and demanded respect for the amount of work it took to get it out of the shambles it had been in when Vincent ran it.

"I think here is fine," he stated firmly, unwilling to be moved from his position on the floor. Angela chuckled as she looked at him, "Very well, he's your chef," she stated, "After all you are the one signing his paychecks so he can send them to me." Ciel stiffened and gazed at her in confusion, that hadn't come up in any conversations with the man. "What do you mean?" asked Ciel swiftly in an attempt to cover his shock. He wasn't about to be fooled by this woman. She huffed as she tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, "Simple, I'm telling you he owes me money," she commented. There was a pause and Ciel could feel a few guests staring at him. "Come with me," he commented as he led the woman to his office. William was walking by and stared at the woman in confusion.

"Spears tell Alois to get to my office, we have a problem," stated Ciel as he marched by. He wanted back up if he was going to deal with a woman who looked as unstable as she did. Ciel opened the door of his office and stepped off to the side, he watched the woman pass him, the scent of her perfume was powerful and churned his stomach. Elizabeth didn't wear anything that strong, it was clear he had been blessed by Elizabeth's desire to smell good, but not make Ciel go into an asthma attack. He closed the door behind her and gestured to a chair, "Please, have a seat, Alois will join us shortly," he stated as he walked toward his desk. Her movements were delicate and yet powerful, "Which bank do you represent Miss. Blanc?" asked Ciel as he leaned on the front of his desk, a few steps away from her. He didn't desire to sit, he knew he would lose his ability to both intimidate and coerce if necessary if he took a seat at his desk. She seemed like the type of woman who needed someone to look down at her for her to understand her position.

"I am not affiliated with any bank," she replied coolly. Ciel paused, if she wasn't affiliated with a bank this meant something far more sinister than he anticipated. Paying the debt to the bank was doable, however if it were to an underground organization there was always a catch. "Then who are you affiliated with?" asked Ciel with a small smile, he watched her shift in her seat and cross her legs. "Wouldn't you like to know," she commented with a smug grin, "The lender isn't important, it's the fact that the borrower hasn't paid us back."

Ciel hummed and crossed his arms, clearly it was illegal, and the money was from someone powerful. He honestly began to wonder just what he had hired to work in his kitchen. Debts like these were dangerous, "Is Sebastian the borrower?" asked Ciel after a moment. Nothing about the chef seemed like he would be the type to ask for a loan. However, people did crazy things when they were desperate, he knew that far too well. "No, his father is," she replied offhandedly.

"Then why has he been labeled the borrower?" asked Ciel with irritation, it made no sense. If Sebastian's father was the one who asked for the loan then he should be paying it. "Simple, he's dead and we still want our money, it's a substantial sum," she commented as she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her mobile. Her eyes gazed down on the now lit face of her mobile, "Am I keeping you from something?" asked Ciel crudely. A grin of satisfaction swept across her lips as her fingers danced across the touch screen of the mobile. "No, I'm pulling up the precise amount he owes us," she replied as she scrolled down a tab.

Ciel's mind was reeling, it must have been large for her to look it up, however, nothing out of the ballpark of his usual expenses. "Well?" he asked with irritation, he honestly didn't want this waiting game to continue, "How much?" He was losing patience and his upper hand. Miss. Blanc handed Ciel the phone and the young owner blanched. His eyes were locked on the screen as he whispered, "What the? Is this a joke!"

Angela chuckled and straightened up in the chair before commenting, "No, this is the actual sum."

~~xXx~~

Panic, that was the one thing which ran through the Head Chef as he caught his Pastry Chef. The man who had stood tall before the Undertaker and seemed invincible, turned out to be as fragile as he feared. The golden eyed chef's heart wrenched as he held Sebastian's thin body in his arms, he was too thin, too frail and far too light. Claude was strong, however he shouldn't have been able to hold Sebastian with one arm if he were healthy. "Sebastian, what have you done?" he whispered as he slowly picked the chef up. He could feel the eyes of the other chefs on him as he carried the unconscious man to his office. He was fortunate to have put in a sofa, which he periodically slept on during the day and his short break.

For once Hannah didn't fuss about her new post, in fact she looked terrified. He knew she couldn't make a pastry, "Claude! I can't bake!" she shouted. He knew full well she couldn't, however she could plate and that would have to do. "Plate what you can and as we run out tell Ronald," Claude stated briskly. The white-haired chef stared at him in terror, "Haven't you been looking at his pastries?" asked Claude angrily. He didn't have time for this, she shook her head and he felt his rage bubble to the surface.

"This is a kitchen, we look out for one another! You can't ignore one chef's creation simply because you are envious!" he snapped, he knew Hannah well enough to tell what was going through her head. Sebastian hadn't moved since he picked him up and Claude was at a loss, "I'm putting him in my office, you plate the deserts until I get back," he hissed. Hannah nodded quickly before scurrying off, like a dog who had been punished by her master.

The door of his office was thankfully open as he placed Sebastian down on the dark futon, it wasn't the softest however it was suitable. He smiled tenderly as he pulled a blanket over the chef and looked at his sleeping face. This was perhaps the calmest he had seen the man in a few days. Long dark lashes, which mirrored wings when closed lined his eyelids that had closed to cover those startling red eyes. His lips had parted, and his black hair was a mess, more than usual. Golden eyes looked over the man, he was enchanting, "Sleeping beauty," he commented. He was about to leave when he felt something damp on his fingers. Instinctively he rubbed them together, it was slick, sticky and warm.

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he looked down at the hand which had been used to catch Sebastian's chest. It was red, his eyes widened as he slowly sniffed it. He was praying it was simply pastry filling, only to be proven wrong. "It was your blood," he whispered as he removed the blanket and rapidly began un-fastening buttons. In the distance he could hear someone calling him, yet he made no motion to respond. He had to know, even if it hurt he had to know what was wrong. Claude's hands stilled after a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he looked at the blood soaked white tee. "My god, what the hell happened to you?"