It's been crazy and I want to thank all of you for hanging in there, Fair is around the corner and since I an assistant leader I'll be swamped until fair is over. Tis chapter was edited by Colleen Winter, a friend of mine. My Beta is working on it, she had internet issues, which is part of the reason why it's late. I hope you enjoy what I have in store. I will post the edition that my Beta has corrected once it's done.

~Kuro

Chapter 23: Second Chances

The rain was finally letting up, as if to show that there was some mercy in the world, even if it was just a sliver. Pools of water rested on the damp surfaces of the street, echoing the scenes above, only to be disturbed when foot falls disrupted the surface. The cold rain had soaked through Claude's shirt and hair, his damp hands grasped the black jacket so tightly that his knuckles were white. Sebastian had managed to survive Ash and his investor, however, he was now going to be forced into an even more dangerous game. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Vincent wouldn't go easy on them. He didn't know how. This competition would either make Sebastian or break him, part of Claude wondered just how much longer the fragile chef would last.

Sebastian's words may have been strong that night, however he could tell there was concern in the chef's eyes. He looked as though he were about to dart out of the kitchen. The chocolates he had been making were nowhere to be seen on the floor, which worried him. Even if it was a private order Sebastian had included small portions to go out to VIP customers, and yet this one he didn't. Ever since he had passed out that one day, something was off. It hurt to look at him and Claude felt the need to wrap his arms around the raven and assure him that he was safe.

Claude's footfalls rebounded off the walls of the still streets as he continued, Alois was sincere about the drink, liquor would only make it worse. He knew the blond loved Ciel with all his heart, and yet the slate haired young man couldn't seem to return his affection. Alois had been abused but was slowly getting over it, but was concerned about Sebastian. Claude drew a deep breath. He couldn't find Sebastian for an hour and could remember picking the man up off the floor and looking at his marred skin. The sight of such beautiful skin covered in angry red gashes and purple bruises nauseated him. Sebastian was gentle, beautiful and over all fragile, no one had the right to treat him in such a way.

He was pulled out of thought by a soft cry, it was faint and barely audible over his own musings. The Head Chef slowly peered down a dark alley between two shops, it smelt rancid and made him nearly gag. Rotting food wasn't a smell he appreciated, he slowly looked down it and sighed, "Must be my imagination," he muttered. He stood before a garbage can and ran his fingers through his hair, it was even wetter than he thought. The golden eyed chef was about to leave only to hear a soft cry again, he turned his head and stared at a small trembling black cat in a discarded cardboard box. The light which streamed out of one of the back kitchen windows was just enough for him to realize how small the creature was. Without a second through Claude was on his knees and reaching into the box, his fingers ran over damp silky fur, he could feel every bone on the kitten and it reminded him eerily of a certain raven. "Come here. I won't hurt you," he said softly as he gently picked her up.

He held the kitten close to his chest and ran his fingers over her fur, he was startled when he saw that she possessed a pair of ruby red eyes, "You really are like him," he whispered as he looked at Sebastian's coat. He shook his head and slipped his own off to wrap the small creature in. He didn't want to ruin Sebastian's coat anymore than he already had. "Now what to call you," he mused as he carried the small creature in his arms toward his apartment.

~~xXx~~

Vincent slowly turned to face the owner of the smooth voice which emanated from the doorway. Standing in his standard black suit without a tie was none other than William T. Spears. His green eyes were filled with the same fire that had sparked his own fascination for food. His dark brown hair was down and he looked at ease, oddly. Most people found Vincent intimidating, then again Spears was accustomed to dealing with the higher end of clientele. The rich and powerful seemed to all have personal armies. "Will?" asked Vincent in confusion, the Sommelier was the last person he had expected to see standing there.

"It's been awhile, I'm glad that you still remember your school boy days," he commented as he gestured to the apple. Even though William didn't look it, he was about the same age as Vincent and Diedrich. Vincent had always considered the man lucky that time hadn't taken much of a toll on him. "Naturally, why would you want to look out for the pair?" asked Vincent slowly as his eyes fell on the man. He couldn't seem to understand why he was even in Vincent's home, not that he wasn't welcome. William leaned on the back of one of the leather wingback chairs and hummed, "Simple, Claude's been through enough, as has Sebastian from the looks of it. Why not ease his pain? He's useless if he isn't happy," he commented. Vincent wasn't convinced if there was one thing he knew, it was that William didn't do anything unless there was something in it for him.

Vincent crossed his arms and looked at William, the man was the only one who could stump him, in many ways the Sommelier was illegible. His eyes gave away nothing, his cheeks didn't change in the slightest, his stance never wavered. In many ways William was one of the best poker players he knew, it was impossible to tell if he were bluffing. "Why?" he asked again, knowing that wasn't all of it. William ran his hand through his hair and hung his head for a moment, "Simple, I like being able to walk onto the floor and know that my customers are sincerely enjoying their evening, if Sebastian can give Claude that kind of strength then he should," he stated.

~~xXx~~

Apprehension was the only emotion which, seemed to run through the Pậtissier, he had yet seen Ciel after waking up on the kitchen floor. Elizabeth had served as a small distraction for the young man, however it didn't change the fact that it was only now that he learned the young man was engaged. Clearly Ciel didn't have as many morals as he did, in fact, he lacked them. The kitchen in Ciel's flat was uncustomarily cold the Pậtissier, usually kitchens were the warmest place for him. A sanctuary from what he seemed to call his life, only this kitchen wasn't, his eyes fell on that same spot in which he had woken in after that nightmare. His skin crawled as he slowly walked past it, Francis may have been the demon of his dreams and memories, but that was it. He held no form, nothing to physically harm him. Ciel on the other hand, was far more terrifying. He had seen what the young earl had done to Ash. With the stroke of his pen he had demolished what little following Landers had as well as barred him from working in any respectable restaurant in not only London but around the world.

Slender white fingers slipped through his black hair as he attempted to figure out what he was going to do. Ciel would never confess to harming the Pậtissier, especially if there was a chance it would hurt his standing as a noble. He sighed as he slowly leaned on the counter and looked at his haggard reflection in it's slick surface. "What am I going to do?" he asked after a moment. He slowly sat up and looked at the kitchen cabinets. The first thing he had to do was make breakfast, even if Ciel wasn't up yet. He didn't want to risk another painful encounter.

Sebastian slowly walked over to fridge and opened it, "Perhaps I should twist a classic," he mused as he looked over the inventory of the appliance. His burgundy eyes wandered over the shelves as he determined what he was going to make. Everything in the fridge was clean, it didn't even look like it's contents had been touched since they had been purchased. He slowly picked up the carton of eggs as well as milk, tomatoes, a green bell pepper, a few jalapenos, onion, and fresh basil. His fingers walked the shelves as he grabbed a block of yellow cheddar and then a crab. His lips quirked up into a smile as he thought about the food he had on the coast, the warm bouloubasis and fresh fish which the fisherman hoisted off their ships daily. The salt in the air, call of vicious gulls and the holler of fishermen selling their wares right off the ship, all things that filled his memory. He had the opportunity to spend some time by the coast. It was brief but long enough for him to learn the many different tastes of the French people.

Sebastian spun on his heel and went looking for the omelet pan, only to learn that the kitchen was state of the art, every tool he could ever dream of was present. Perhaps even being trapped in hell he could find away to lessen the pain. The sound of shells cracking as the Pậtissier tapped them on the pristine white glass echoed through the flat. "Butter," he whispered as he wandered back to the refrigerator and pulled a cardboard box. In moments there was a fork between the Pậtissier's fingers as he gently whisked a single egg yolk and two whites together, the sound of the metal fork hitting the glass rang through the apartment. It was oddly soothing to hear in the silence which seemed deafening. Once the eggs were a smooth mixture his eyes wandered to the stove, "Gas, I need matches," he muttered as he walked over to the massive range and turned on the gas. He opened each drawer with ease as he looked for a small book of matches, there had to be one in the kitchen. It made little sense to have a gas range without something to light it.

After a few seconds of digging he pulled the book of slender matches, "I wonder if he even eats crab," Sebastian murmured as he struck the match and slipped it under the element. In moments a bright blue flame appeared. His small apartment in Paris had a gas rang, it was a fraction of the size and half the time took an eternity to light, but it was his. Ciel's was a dream, between size and the sheer heat it put out, he wasn't sure if he would ever be accustomed to it. The black Teflon pan rested on the stove as he slipped a knife into the now softened butter and scraped it into the pan, a hiss was released as he did so. The smell of butter filled the room and wrapped around him like a security blanket, chasing away all of the demons in his mind. "Julia Childs always said that there was one basis rule in French Cuisine," called a soft but bright voice. Sebastian jumped slightly, he hadn't anticipated anyone to be up and about, standing in one of Ciel's shirts was a certain short haired blond with massive emerald eyes, sparkling like gems in the morning light. She was smiling and leaned against the counter of the island.

"Good morning," Sebastian said sheepishly, he had a feeling this was the fiancée he had hurt and didn't even know it. The young woman nodded as she perched herself on one of the many wooden stools lined up against the island. "Good morning, just out of curiosity why is the Pậtissier staying with his boss?" she asked as she leaned on the palm of her hand and tapped her fingers against the black granite counter. She had a subtle tan which made her seem golden rather than Sebastian's own lily white, making her fingers stand out even more against the stone. Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat which was slowly developing, he didn't think he would have to face her before Ciel, he actually hoped he would never have to.

"The pipes at my flat broke and I needed a place to stay," he replied casually, part of him prayed she wouldn't pursue the issue any further than this. "I see," she commented as her eyes fell on the polished countertop, her fingers slowly drew designs on it, tracing the many trails of quartz which glistened in the slick stone. "So what's for breakfast?" she asked with a hint of curiosity, her eyes were locked on the pan and the small glass resting on the glass cutting board. Sebastian hummed and replied with a shrug, "Crêpe d' Œuf avec du crabe. (1)" He froze and was about to say it in English when she purred and replied, "C'est magnifique. Je t'aime crepe (2)." Sebastian's burgundy eyes widened, French was the one language he hadn't expected to leave her lips, it was brutish but nonetheless his language. "Tu parles au fancais? (3)" he asked hesitantly as he slowly turned to look at her. The young woman giggled and nodded, "I went to Paris for a bit and learned the language while I was working, Ciel speaks it too, don't let him fool you. His is far better than mine," she stated.

The pậtissier was even more confused as he looked at her, Ciel made it seem as though he didn't know it, yet she stated he knew it. "Oh," Sebastian said slowly as he turned his attention to the pan and slowly added the egg. He loved the scent of fresh basil as he plucked it from the stalks and sprinkled it into the pan. He was suddenly reminded of a certain golden eyed Head Chef. Claude's warm arms that had wrapped around him and the medley of spices which clung to his skin. His fingers danced unconsciously as he picked up the bright yellow block of sharp cheddar and began to grate it. "What were you doing in France?" asked Elizabeth, clearly the silence of the pậtissier irritated her, he couldn't blame her. After all this was Ciel's flat, not his, he was the out of place object in the crime scene. "I grew up in a small province not far from Pari, and then went to school there," he replied slowly. He felt nervous speaking to her, he didn't like talking about his past, in fact he hated it. There was always the threat of them finding out he was an orphan and who his father was.

He noticed how the blonde straightened up immediately, "You're a native?" she asked with curiosity. Sebastian nodded curtly before picking up the wad of bright cheddar and sprinkling it in the pan. She was smiling brightly and asked, "Where did you grow up?" There was silence as Sebastian debated on whether or not he should tell her, "A small town in Champagne, there were fewer than four hundred people living there at the time," he commented. He had to give her something to appease her, "How quaint! What was it like?" she asked gingerly. Sebastian felt his stomach churn, he didn't want to face this now, it was bad enough he would have to look at Ceil now he would face Francis. He slipped the thin egg crepe out of the pan and onto a pristine white plate. He then began to make the next crêpe, they had to cool before he could stuff them, "Would you mind grabbing the smaller Teflon pan? I need to make the filling," he asked.

Elizabeth rose from her seat and picked up the pan, she placed it delicately on the range, he nodded before turning his attention to the vegetables. He had yet to chop to make the fresh filling. "The village had a small main street, which was lined with beautiful store fronts. There was a bookshop at the end of the street, a doctor who always was sitting on his balcony listening to Porter and smoking a cigarette. Further down was a baker, he made both patisserie and boulangerie(4), many of the children would stand outside the window and drool as we watched him make his treats," Sebastian said with a note of laughter in his voice. Elizabeth looked very confused as he slipped the last of the egg crepe onto the plate and turned his attention to the vegetables. "What's funny?" she asked after a moment.

Sebastian hummed as he picked up a silver knife and turned his attention to the crab that needed shelling and vegetables. "If we were caught drooling for too long he would come out of the shop and chase us away with the broom," he said lightly, "He looked like a demon, with how red he was in the face." Elizabeth chuckled as Sebastian began to dice the peppers, "Onion?" asked Elizabeth. Sebastian's smooth movements with the knife and the click of it against the wooden board was comforting, "Sounds good, however I don't know where they are," Sebastian confessed. A light giggle filled his ears as the blonde danced to a cabinet and pulled out a large vidalia onion. He looked at the smooth skin of the skin of the large golden onion. He peeled back the skin and breathed in the sweet smell, "Did you ever taste the man's treats?" she asked after a moment.

Sebastian nodded as he began to dice the onion as well, "Yes," he replied, his heart hurt. He couldn't tell her that it was after being viciously raped by the man who was supposed to protect him, a servant of god. He slowly placed the knife on the board and looked at the now diced peppers, onions and tomato, he didn't even remember dicing all of it. In truth he couldn't remember, it was normal for him to do when he was cooking and not concentrating on what he was doing. Lizzy was distracting him, with questions and memories he would rather not respond to. A smile graced his lips in an attempt to keep the pain from showing on it. He picked up the crab and ran his fingers over the shell, he would have to steam it to get it to pop open.

He looked for a pot and began filling it with water, "Place those in the microwave so they stay warm," he directed. She nodded and he could feel her eyes on his back, now he had to concentrate, once the water was up to temperature he would shell the crabs, finish the fresh salsa, heat them in the pan and fill the crepes with it. There was silence as he slipped the crab into the water and waited for the shell to finally crack. "Where's the coffee?" asked a gruff voice from the doorway, Sebastian stiffened when he immediately recognized it. Elizabeth grinned and he listened to her chirp her usual greeting, clearly this was something she enjoyed doing. "What's he making?" asked Ciel informally, this was perhaps the most uncouth the young man had ever sounded.

He slowly looked over his shoulder to see Ciel's mussed hair, sapphire eyes that were cloudy from sleep, and muscular chest. He was leaning in the doorway lazily and yawned, "Egg Crepes!" she replied with a child like grin. Obviously Sebastian had struck a chord with her, yet Ciel's face remained the same, impassive look. The pậtissier wasn't sure if it was because he had just woken up or was genuinely uninterested in what he was cooking. The slate haired young man padded into the kitchen and slowly set up the coffee maker, "Sounds good," muttered Ciel. Sebastian lifted the silver lid off the pot and pulled the crab, it was finally cracked, now he could continue his work.

His fingers worked on their own as the smell of spices he coveted filled the air, the dish was vibrant, warm and oddly comforting. He was using spices he usually avoided, in reality he was a pậtissier all he worried about was sugar, chocolates, creams and fruits. Working in the realm of flare, vegetables and meats was out of his realm of expertise. As he added each element the golden eyed chef came to mind again, that powerful chest he had been clutched against, his beautiful black hair with a violet luster, piercing eyes and gentle hands. He shook his head as he slowly spooned the bright red mixture of crab, fresh salsa, basil, paprika and cayenne pepper on the thin golden sheets.

Sapphire and emerald eyes were locked on him as he pulled the sheets and folded the crab inside, they were still warm and soft. Once he had managed to fold them he placed the two plates before Ciel and Elizabeth. "I hope you like it," replied the pậtissier as he turned to leave, he couldn't handle being in the same space as the man who had taken advantage of him and harmed him. He backed away and began to head back toward the door which lead to the servants area. "Stay," Ciel commanded, "Lizzy seems to like you and I would love for you to tell us more about your childhood." A current of fear ran through the pậtissier as he looked at them, "It's not that interesting," he said smoothly.

Ciel peaked a brow in confusion, "A moment ago it was," he commented. The pậtissier's jaw clenched, of course the wealthy young master was all too interested in the life he had lead to this point. "It isn't really," he lied as he slowly began to clean the remnants of his work from the wooden cutting board. Ciel huffed with irritation, clearly this wasn't sufficient enough for him, he desired a different answer. "Ciel, I was wondering if we could see your father later, I would love to help with the event," Lizzy said with a hint of excitement. Even Sebastian knew full well what she was referring to. After all, by now it must have spread through the culinary circles like crazy. He was about to take on the famous pậtissier Ash Landers, even if he was a traitor to Ciel he was still one of the finest in the field. The question came to be whether or not he could survive the competition.

"My father is probably handing the task to Tanaka, he is the trusted butler after all," he sneered. Once again he sounded like the spoiled little master Sebastian had pinned him as, "Ciel, I want to help, this is the most excitement we've had," she whined. The slate haired owner rubbed his left temple with his fingers as he sighed, "Oh alright, I'll make the arrangements," he grumbled. The girl practically launched herself off the stool and kissed him on the cheek, "Great! I'm going to get dressed," she announced before rapidly walking toward the entrance of the kitchen, "Oh and Sebastian?" she asked. The pậtissier lifted his head and looked at her, she seemed so giddy after he had given her breakfast. "The crepe was superb," she chirped before leaving. It wasn't until she had left that it occurred to him he was now standing in the room who had brutally violated him on the floor.

"About the other night," Ciel began slowly. The pậtissier's joints locked up as though he had been tied up, he felt a current of electricity run through him. His eyes closed, his heart was pounding and he began to feel nauseous. "It didn't happen, I was very drunk, it should have never happened," Ciel said after a moment. Sebastian slowly opened his eyes and noticed the sincerity in his words. Even if the young man was a pain in the ass to the pậtissier, he was a decent man. Yet the one word he wanted to hear, would never leave those lips, an apology. Sebastian sighed, "I understand," he replied meekly. He wanted to avoid another scene like that of a night ago. He didn't think he could handle something like that again. "Tell me, are you dumb?" asked Ciel after a moment. Sebastian looked up at the young man in confusion and blinked, "What?" he stammered. "You accepted Ash Landers challenged before everyone in my restaurant, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he asked. The pậtissier was silent.

"So, tell me just how you plan on defeating Landers, you must have some clue because you accepted the challenge," hissed Ciel, there was malice in his voice. Sebastian should have known this was coming, after all he hadn't consulted his employer like he should have before accepting. "I-I wasn't thinking," he stammered. Sapphire eyes grew even more dangerous as he attempted to figure out what to say, Nash seemed thrilled about having Sebastian's dish, constantly stating it was far better than the one Ash had crafted. "No you weren't and now I have my father breathing down my neck," Ciel snapped, "I don't have time to deal with him and Lizzy." The way he had even said Elizabeth's name hurt him, he saw her as more of a burden than something to cherish. The young man before him cared about status more than his fiancée. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't let him do such a thing on the floor," Sebastian said sheepishly. His heart was pounding and he felt as though the walls of the room were moving toward him.

"You thought? Listen, I pay you to cook, not to think. If I wanted that, I would ask Agni to do so," he snapped, his face was slowly turning red with irritation. Sebastian clenched his fists, even now he was an object, something to be bought and sold, never treasured. "I'm a person, I'm entitled to my own thoughts," Sebastian muttered. Ciel had clearly heard him and was even angrier, "You are, just not when it pertains to my restaurant," he stated. Sebastian was about to bite back when his eyes fell on a glass bottle of olive oil, his skin began to crawl, he was still fighting the infection from when Ciel had used it as lube. Sebastian turned to run, he couldn't stand being further ridiculed, he was about to walk through the door which lead back to his area when Ciel said, "Sebastian." The raven haired chef paused and looked at the doorknob, his freedom was so close and yet if he opened the door he feared what would happen to him.

Ciel seemed like the kind of person that was likely to beat him senseless if he managed to irritate him enough. Red eyes glanced over his shoulder to see Ciel approach him with his hand in the air, ready to strike. The pậtissier closed his eyes and grit his teeth in preparation for the strike, he knew it would hurt. There wasn't a single reason for it not to. "Ciel! Could you help me with my dress?" called an all too shrill voice. Ciel sighed and strode off toward the bedroom.

Sebastian felt his knees go from under him, his hands flew out to grip the counter before he collapsed to the floor. It was only now that he realized he had actually been trembling. His hands were shaking like leaves in the wind, his eyes fell on them, "It's alright, he didn't strike me," he whispered. Sebastian closed his eyes as he slowly began to recompose himself, Angela and Francis would have struck him. His heart slowly began to slow, Lizzy had stopped Ciel from trapping him, he was honestly waiting for that blow. He knew the conversation about Landers wasn't over, it was far from over. For now he was safe, and that's what mattered the most. He was safe until Lizzy was gone and he was alone with Ciel.

~~xXx~~

Vincent stretched his arms over his head, Diedrich had managed to get BTN interested in his little challenge. With this contest Vincent would be able to alter the perception of Phuntom Toys, and Ciel. As well as draw Angela out, if he could draw her out of the shadows and into the light. He didn't appreciate when the demons of the underworld broke out of their cages and threatened to disrupt his peace. The morning was oddly quiet for him, Rachel was in her studio designing again. She had asked to be left alone for the morning, which left him to his own devises. In reality he should be in London overseeing the creation of a new line of toys.

"Tanaka, I need you to do something for me," he called into the quiet halls of the house. In moments the gray haired butler appeared, he had a pair of glasses resting on his nose and stood eloquently before Vincent. "Sir?" he asked curiously. Vincent grinned and looked at him, another person he considered his partner in crime. Tanaka was perhaps one of the most attentive servants he had ever hired. "I would like you to search for a number of different ingredients used in pastries and have them typed, after doing so put them in a stack and hand them off to myself," he said with ease. The man looked slightly puzzled, as always Tanaka wasn't going to question verbally, his facial expression had given him away though. "It's for the competition," he responded flatly with the wave of his hand, as though it were a simple fact.

Tanaka nodded and smiled, "I see, I will take care of it," he replied before turning to leave. Vincent looked up and noticed a grin on the gentleman's lips, "Tanaka, tell me something," he said after a moment as he reached for his tea cup, "Did you send Sebastian to Ciel?" he asked slowly. There was a pause as Vincent's brown eyes bore into the man, the graying butler turned and grinned, "I don't know what you mean," he said smoothly. Vincent was quiet and remembered the unexpected arrival of William T. Spears, he didn't think Spears would be the one to assist. He knew that the Sommelier would avoid politics and anything to do with it. Yet he readily approached them, "He said he didn't have Sebastian's resume until a mysterious fax arrived with the Phantomhive Logo on it," he remarked.

Tanaka hummed and replied, "I did, and if you must know I knew who he was before giving him the card," replied the elderly Stewart. Vincent grinned with delight, clearly the one who had set this all up was none other than his own man. "Tell me, why?" he asked. Tanaka was quite, clearly he was composing his reply in his head, "Sir, do you believe in second chances at happiness?" he asked. Vincent looked confused at first, the very nature of the question didn't make sense to him. Tanaka was always one to follow orders without hesitation.

"Why would he need another chance?" asked Vincent in confusion, it didn't make sense, surely he had been abused but he should have had another in Paris. "Because he was denied his first one," Tanaka replied. Clearly he knew more than he was saying, it irritated him how his butler knew more on this than he did. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked carefully. Tanaka wasn't one to keep secrets from Vincent, yet this time he was. It must have been important in order for the elderly butler to do so. "Ask your German friend, he'll know by today," he replied before leaving the room.

Vincent stared at his desk, the missing piece had to do with Sebastian, it wasn't until the pậtissier arrived everything started falling apart. "What have you done, Sebastian?" he asked the photo of the small child on his desk. After a few hours of digging through old French records he had managed to dig up a childhood photo of Sebastian. He honestly was beautiful, he understood why Claude desired him, he would be a fool not to. The phone rang violently, "Phantomhive," he answered curtly as he picked up the handset.

"Vincent, this is Ray, listen I'm very interested in your proposition," said the familiar voice of the owner of BTN. His voice was full of enthusiasm, "It will be quite the show, two famous pậtissiers duking it out on camera with surprise ingredients. I was thinking though, I know several well known pậtissier who have been dying to taste your new chef's treats," he commented. Vincent's eyes widened, real chefs, people who knew desserts better than anyone as judges. He was quiet as he listened to the man, "Who?" asked Vincent curiously. He could tell Ray was grinning from ear to ear, "The three largest names Hugo Garrett, Neil Harmon and finally James Perrot," he replied. Vincent's jaw dropped, those three were the best, they wrote the books on the craft. Hugo was known for his technique, Neil for his unquestionable unique combinations and James was the master of skill, beauty and perfection. Without a question they were the ideal judges, "Did you ask them?" he inquired.

A laugh emanated from the other end, "Ask them? They called me and asked if they could, clearly Sebastian has quite the reputation in the French circles as the golden boy," replied Ray. Sebastian was in several papers and Vincent had learned through his digging that the young man was one that even the masters envied. "I see, and Ash?" he asked cautiously, it wasn't a secret that the man was a traitor. "Easy, they want to see who really has the skill, apparently the incident in the restaurant spread through the twitter sphere like wildfire. Now every gourmet and pậtissier is looking to see who will come out on top," replied Ray. Vincent paused, this was growing and fast, Twitter meant that the world had seen it, it was no longer London's competition. "Ray, what do you mean?" asked Vincent. The man on the other end laughed again, "Log in, Vincent, they're messaging you like crazy," he stated.

Vincent put Ray on speaker as he logged in, Ciel had him create the account not too long ago, his eyes widened, people were choosing sides and mailing him. "What?" he asked in confusion as he scrolled through the messages, his customers from all over the world were asking to see who won, he knew his clientele was enormous but this was larger than he anticipated. "Apparently Armont was dinning and had dessert, after seeing the challenged he tweeted every gourmet he knew," Ray explained as Vincent browsed the messages. "There are New Yorkers on here," he whispered. He knew they were from Claude's after all Claude was one of the best of the CIA. He suddenly felt out of his depth, this was beyond the response he was expecting. "I'm getting calls here left and right asking for commented," he stated, "Especially after the judges announced who was on the panel."

Vincent swept his hand through his hair, "This is going to be huge," he stated in shock. Ray hummed in agreement, "We are hiring a composer for the themes and several tracks, well actually he hunted us down, apparently Sebastian's treats extend past the gourmets," commented Ray. He was having pros come in and craft the studio, the music, everything was being done simply because Sebastian had taken the challenge. "Ray, is this going international?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

Vincent stared at the screen and then at his products, he was going to launch Sebastian onto the world stage, and all because in the Twitter Sphere Sebastian was being seen as a young hero taking on a dragon. "Who is doing the score?" asked Vincent after a moment. He needed to know just how many ears this had reached, "Hooper, Nathan Hooper," he responded. Things were getting interesting. Hooper was going to bring every cinema fan to the room, and he was about to have the world watch as his chef battled for superiority. "Don't worry, we will do interviews once it's all shot," he stated. This was going to be one hell of a spectacle, "When?" he asked slowly.

"We would like to start in a week," replied Ray. Vincent felt his heart soar, he was about to see his chef take on another, "We will be shooting a trailer for the two and then the competition, you'll see," he responded, "I have to call Ciel but once that is done we can start." Vincent nodded, this was perhaps the boldest thing he had ever done. He corrected himself and shook his head, no the boldest thing he had done was start his dance with Angela Blanc, Ash's sister.

~~xXx~~

Diedrich was sitting outside a cafe sipping a large black coffee, the yard had given him the name of one of her subordinates who was an undercover agent for them. Now all he had to do was get the file, the young man was supposed to drop a newspaper with a yellow folder in it. He looked around for the signal, he was supposed to be wearing a fedora and silver scarf. Vincent's power scared many, after all it wasn't something most wanted to be on the receiving end of, himself included. Out of the crowded street he noticed the black hat and glistening silver scarf coming toward him, the man didn't even look up as he dropped the paper at Diedrich's feet. He paused and muttered, "Oh shit, sorry man," as he leaned over to pick it up. Diedrich leaned down to assist only for the man to hold a flash drive out to him, "Prints are dangerous," he muttered, "it's easier on an app." Once the pages were put back together the young man walked away, leaving Diedrich with the flash.

"I remember the days when it was only paper," he commented as he picked up the cup and walked the opposite direction. His satchel was over his shoulder as he went looking for another cafe to look at the data. Once he had managed to slip into another one he pulled out the device and opened the lid. His eyes fell on the silver flash drive, in moments he had it plugged in and the laptop was reading it. "Let's see," he muttered as he opened one of the documents. He stared in shock at it and whispered, "What?"

Translations:

(1) Crêpe d' Œuf avec du crabe.: Egg Crepes with Crab

(2) C'est magnifique. Je t'aime crepe: That's magnificent. I love crepe.

(3) Tu parles au fancais?: You speak French?

(4) boulangerie: In France, there are two types of bakery, a pastry bakery and bread baker. A Boulangerie is a Bread Bakery.