Author's Note: I know it's odd for me to post several chapters so quickly these days, however this was originally part of Chapter 34. Since it didn't fit in the first Google Doc, I split it and then gave it a title of its own. I know you guys are going to love it.
I hope you enjoy.
Kuro.
Chapter 35: Fleeting Moments
It was late as the black town car pulled up to the mansion, it was finally quiet after a long day of the press and the launch of his new critter. Rachel had managed to sketch out a new design to go with the classic Bitter Rabbit, however he didn't think it would be a raven. The bird was eerie but cute as he looked at it in sketch form, only now did he realize how beautiful it was as he cradled the plush toy in his hands. He had taken off his white satin gloves long ago, and was now running his fingers over the soft material the raven was made of. With a pair of beautiful eyes and a bow around his neck as well as a vest and cap, he looked regal in fashion. Unlike Bitter, the raven had a crimson ribbon and accents, something which oddly reminded him of a certain pậtissier. He paused and stared at the bird, there had been a raven on Sebastian's jacket as well, perhaps this raven was something more than a plush. Vincent closed his eyes and rested his head against the dark interior of his Mercedes. "Sir?" asked a stern voice, summoning him to the present. His chocolate brown eyes opened slowly as he looked at the chauffeur, he felt a cool breeze hit him when he realized the door had been open. "I must have drifted off," he commented as he slipped out of the car.
In moments he had entered the foyer, every part of him was eager to check on Rachel, yet he need time to think. This was all too much, Rachel had been his partner and now she was going to leave him alone. Ciel was being difficult and refused to see him, even though this time was important, he couldn't bear to tell Rachel. He drew a deep breath and looked around, Tanaka was standing there with his hands out only for Vincent to turn on his heel, the chauffeur was confused for a moment as Vincent slipped back into the car, "Take me to Ciel's flat in London, we need to talk," he stated as he placed the plush on the seat. The driver merely did as he was told and put the car in drive before heading back to London.
He had never considered himself an emotional man, sure he had shown his emotions to Rachel but rarely. Ciel, he loved the boy, however found it difficult to show it. He saw so much of himself in Ciel, and prayed silently that the boy wouldn't do as he had when he was young, plunge into darkness. Vincent thought himself fortunate to have Rachel; especially after the life he had lead. He wasn't the purest of people, actually, he had probably one of the murkiest souls out there, and yet someone as light and lovely as Rachel took him into her arms. He didn't want Ciel to do the things he had, to have people killed in the name of protecting himself and the crown. He didn't want Ciel to ever have to give up his dreams, just for revenge, he never wanted Ciel to hunt for revenge.
Unconsciously the CEO stroked the raven, his thoughts strayed to the toy again. Bitter Rabbit was supposed to be Ciel, which he understood. Yet, he didn't understand the raven and Sebastian, why his wife made a toy like the chef confused him. She hadn't named it, she had left that to him. His eyes fell on the smartly dressed raven, "What do I call you?" he asked after a moment as he looked at the toy, he was perplexed by it. The streets of London rolled by as the driver turned down a side street, he was a few moments away from Ciel's flat when he realized he had no idea how to tell the boy that his mother was dying and this time he couldn't save her. Part of him wondered if Ciel had killed them both in his heart long ago, but dismissed this notion, he couldn't have had Sebastian brought onto the floor if he had. The car came to a stop, in moments Vincent was out of it and entering the building, his mind kept falling back on Rachel and Sebastian. He was so lost in thought he didn't even realize he was carrying the toy with him.
He pressed the button to the lift and waited, what seemed like hours was moments, this was going to be a long chat, however it was essential. He needed to tell Ciel, even if Rachel couldn't come with him.
~~xXx~~
Sebastian looked at Claude curiously, what a spider had to do with the room he was staying in made little sense to him. "No, I'm not," he replied as he looked at the Head Chef quizzically. Claude hummed and smiled brightly as he walked into his flat, "Good because I have someone else for you to meet," he stated. Sebastian followed the chef through the flat to the man's library, there were books all over the walls, from floor to ceiling on nearly every topic. It was as though he had stepped into a world of wonder, he stared at the chair by the fire. A sweeping wing back with dark plum velvet lining, he walked over to the fireplace, it was gas and yet it felt as though it belonged. His fingers fell on the mahogany mantel, he stared at the carvings, they were of stories. The classics were displayed before him, Aslan, the white rabbit, Peter Rabbit, each of them were carved with great detail. His jaw dropped as he looked at the others side of the mantle, a train had been carved. Upon closer inspection he noticed the coat of arms on it, the Hogwarts Express. At the end was a massive castle, it was beautiful and he sighed as he traced it with his fingers. He had always wanted to go on a train, to run away from it all.
His eyes traveled down and spotted a badger, lion, snake and bald eagle at the base, the houses of Hogwarts. He smiled, this must have cost a fortune, he hummed as he looked at the snarling lion and the coiled snake, oddly aiding one another. Sebastian tore his eyes from the fire place and looked at the shelves, now he noticed the little sculptures and things. Props from films, even the cryptex from the da Vinci Code was resting on his shelves. He smiled as he walked toward Claude's desk, it was a little cluttered there were pages resting on top of each other, some charts, others recipes. "Find anything of interest?" asked a lush voice behind him. Sebastian jumped and looked at the man who was grinning. He was about to say something when Sebastian spotted several framed documents, he brushed past Claude and stood before the wall, hanging there was an MBA from Marist, as well as his certification as a chef.
"You have an MBA and yet you work under Ciel?" asked Sebastian in confusion as he looked at the piece of paper. He heard Claude sigh and look at him, "That was to appease my father, now then I want you to meet someone and stay calm, he's a little skittish," Claude stated as he slowly lifted his hand for Sebastian to see. Crimson eyes widened as he looked at the spider resting in Claude's palm. With beautifully long black and golden legs, his eyes traveled up the thin legs to the bright gold body, it was large and covered with white flecks. His lips parted as he looked at his white head, "Wow," he whispered, "What is he?" Claude smiled a little as the spider climbed around his hand and he held it up, "A Gold Silk Spider," he replied. Sebastian had seen people with tarantulas but never a spider like this one. It was enigmatic as it's owner, "His name?" he asked. His lips curved as he looked at Sebastian and replied, "Hephaestus," the name was exotic as he had expected. "He does bite, however it's not too bad, it simply looks like a bee sting, I've only been bitten once, oddly he's never bitten me after that," Claude explained, Sebastian couldn't take his eyes off of how gentle Claude was to the arachnid.
"He's three years old now," Claude commented softly as he lifted the spider up and looked at him. "Hephaestus, isn't he the Greek god who makes armor?" asked Sebastian curiously. Claude's eyebrows lifted before he nodded, "Yes he is, most people don't know that," he remarked before turned, "I'm going to put him back, he needs to be fed." Sebastian simply nodded as he watched Claude disappear from view with the spider. Sebastian walked back over to the desk and looked at the parchment when something caught his eye, his slowly reached under all of the simple white sheets and pulled a sheet of linen parchment, it was rather thick and reminded him of the paper he had received his first note at culinary school. He looked at the handwriting on it and started, that same script, it was identical. Down to the loops of the "s" and "l" they were the same, even the ink looked the same.
Sebastian's lips parted as he slowly turned his attention to the wall Claude had attended the CIA, he walked back over to the wall and looked at the second certificate, only to now realize what he hadn't seen before. Claude's surname was different. "Fairchild?" he whispered in confusion. Now it made sense, "Fairchild," he said again, the name had a very familiar ring as he looked at the page. There was a chef which had attended his college when he was a student, another popular student who attended his every lecture. "C. F." he said in awe, he was standing in the study of the one person who understood him. Claude walked back into the room, "So, you'll be staying in the guest room, I've already turned down the sheets," he stated, his voice filled the room and hummed in Sebastian's ears. Crimson orbs didn't leave the piece of paper on the wall, "There are linens in the closet as well as bath sheets," there was a pause as Claude gently placed a hand on the raven haired pậtissier's shoulder. "Sebastian?" asked the chef with a hint of concern.
Sebastian turned and looked at him, his heart was filled with turmoil, how the chef had managed to stir his emotions so much in a single night was beyond him. His gaze was soft and filled with a hint of sadness, "C. F." he whispered. Claude was perplexed for a moment, "Claude Faustus, also known as," Sebastian paused and smiled, "Claude Fairchild." The Head Chef's eyes widened as he looked at Sebastian, he was shocked and looked a little nervous. "You knew me as soon as I walked into the kitchen, didn't you?" asked Sebastian curiously. Claude shook his head and sighed, "No, it wasn't until you walked away that I realized it," he stated. Sebastian sighed and smiled nostalgically, "You were the one who told me to continue," he mused. Claude simply nodded and closed his eyes, bracing himself as though Sebastian were going to hurt him. Yet what occurred next surprised them both, a pair of slightly thinner arms wrapped around the abdomen of the tall Head Chef, as the raven slowly nuzzled into his chef. "Thank you," he whispered, "Thank you for giving me the confidence to continue." Claude was stiff for a moment, before his arms wrapped around the chef, holding him in a tight yet tender embrace. Sebastian hummed as he listened to Claude released a content sigh and kiss the top of his head.
"Can I keep you?" asked Sebastian cautiously. There was a pause, the question that he had been afraid to ask in the past was in the open. Part of him was terrified of being rejected, he had been thrown away so many times it hurt, he couldn't take one more time. A deep chuckle emanated from the chef, "Of course, and I will stay with you, for as long as you like."
~~xXx~~
Ash looked at the finished product after taking a bite he was reminded of what he was missing. "You may not be able to win, however you can redeem yourself, and no one said that was a bad thing," stated the Undertaker. Ash looked up from the pink dessert, he could still taste the slightly firm jelly in his mouth, the light taste of roses caressed his tongue which was coupled with just a kiss of sugar. Ash was lost for a moment, "What do you mean?" The Undertaker smiled a little as he placed his wine glass on the table, "You don't have to win to prove you are a chef, just do your best and craft your food, not your fathers, not the taste of your favorite chefs, but yours. You are your own man, this recipe was the first of many you made and you have the power to show us who you are," the Undertaker explained.
Ash hummed and ran a hand through his hair, "What if they don't like it?" he asked cautiously as the food critic popped another piece of Turkish Delight in his mouth. The man purred as he chewed and closed his eyes, Ash was at a loss; Sebastian was different than he was, and he had seen the proof of that. "Ash, why do we fall?" asked the Undertaker randomly. The Pậtissier looked up in confusion, "So that we learn how to rise," the Undertaker stated, "You have fallen, however now we dust ourselves off and fight for all we've got." Ash watched as the man got off the stool and held his arms out, "The world is watching, but more importantly, you are here, now. It's you, not Angela, its all about you. Show us what you've got," he stated. Ash sat up a little straighter, "It doesn't matter what they think in the end, hell even my opinion is biased, it's yours that matters, yours and the people you serve your food to," the Undertaker stated.
Ash sighed as he looked at the kitchen, it wasn't clean it was a mess, and finally looked as though a chef lived in it. "All it takes is a little soul," whispered Ash, "My soul." The Undertaker was still as Ash began to understand just what he had lost, "To cook with the soul, to use intuition over training, to pair spices because they feel right outside of convention," he whispered. As smile curved the Undertaker's lips, "To be," he paused and looked at the elder critic who simply finished, "A Pậtissier." Now Ash stared at the plate, that was what his father meant, perhaps it was never about the boy he brought home, the reason they never cooked together again was because he had lost his flavor. "Did you know that same year I brought a man home, I had started following a chef named Thrasher, his name faded as well as his fame. That must have been why we stopped sharing a kitchen. He called me a fake, I thought it was because I loved a man, not because I had lost myself," Ash mused. The Undertaker was quiet as the pậtissier slowly got off the stool, there was a look of sadness in his eyes, as well as regret. Now it made sense, his father didn't care he was gay, it was that he had managed to lose is way. Part of him wondered just how long he had been wandering lost. Always following the popular trends but never making his own, or defying the standard. Simply floating along, as though that was what he was born to do. He had gravitated to Claude because he admired the chef's ingenuity and bold flavor, but not the man, only his food. He was so wrapped up in following and some how in doing so becoming a leader that he hurt a man. Lavender eyes closed as he realized just what had occurred so long ago, his father loved him and didn't want to cook with a false chef. He wanted his son, not an imitation. He thought that his father hated him for being gay.
In fact, Angela made it a point in the past to rub salt in the open gash his father had left when he refused to cook with Ash over the fact that their father didn't want to be contaminated. He was so weak then, he let a girl who was angry at the world rule him. Angela hadn't always been dark and hateful, she turned that way after their father learned of their mother's affair and that Ash wasn't even a Blanc, he was a Landers. He could remember his mother going to pack her bags and run off with another woman until his father stopped her, he wasn't about to let her ruin their image. They fought for a while and then the argument dropped into the shadows, he was eight. For years there was a silent status quote that hung over the household, that his mother could do as she pleased and to never mention it to his father. Their world changed when a man named Lucifer Michaelis appeared, a financial guru and one hell of an investment broker. Naturally his family hopped on board, no one knew the market would crash and over night they lost everything. In a panic he could remember his parents running about that morning, yet he was told to go to school.
Ash did as he was told, only to return that afternoon with police around the house, his parents were dead, leaving him and Angela alone. After the tragedy Angela changed, she was cold and practically heartless. There was no warmth left inside of her, she turned to illegal outlets and amassed power to destroy Lucifer, however Ash wanted no part in it and at seventeen he left the house, and never returned. It wasn't until later he learned of what Angela had become and got drawn into her world. Only to now realize it was all so fake, that none of it should have happened. That somehow he had lost himself following her and everyone else.
"I wish I figured it out sooner," he whispered as he looked at the plate, "Perhaps we could have made it together one last time."
~~xXx~~
Ciel grumbled as he looked at the clock, a tumbler was in his hands, Sebastian wasn't home and he couldn't reach him. He glared at the hands on the clock as they shifted just a touch, "Where the fuck is he?" asked Ciel as he turned on his heel and sauntered over to the window. Sebastian had won, which shouldn't have irritated him, yet it was the dish he made which did. That torte was meant to be tasted by a lover and he knew it, he could tell from the look in Sebastian's eyes as he crafted it. Those spices, which combination the look of lust in his eyes as he iced it, every aspect was screaming for the one he loved to taste it. What irked him was the fact that he wasn't the one it was meant for, he had seen Sebastian grow confident after making eye contact with Claude, it was certainly made for that man. A man that Ciel wanted to kill at this moment because knowing his luck Sebastian was with him, and he desperately needed to find an outlet for his frustration.
A large red make appeared on his cheek from where Alois had struck him, his jaw was in searing pain,, however, he refused to see Madame Red. It meant he would have to admit what had happened and she would have to file a case of assault. Usually Ciel wouldn't mind, however, this time there was too much at stake. He hadn't seen Lizzy since the day she had walked in on him while he was enjoying Sebastian, not that it really mattered. He was going to tell her at some point he liked both men and women, as long as he could be on the receiving end of pleasure it didn't matter. Lizzy and Alois were now dangerous to his reputation, he was Lord Phantomhive's son, by right the next Lord of the Phantomhive estates, and right now he could lose everything. Without the Milfords he would loose political backing, without Vice Count Druitt, he could lose his standing in the artistic world and if his father learned of his treachery he could only pray that he would simply be disinherited. Vincent didn't care about the orientation of a person; he cared about engagements and promises being broken. Ciel was engaged to Lizzy and now he had jeopardized that which, in turn would damage Funtom.
Ciel groaned, how his hormones could have gotten so out of control was beyond him, he froze and grit his teeth, "No, I know better, I desired him and wanted to break his wings. This was the only way to do it," he whispered. His voice was laced with anger as he tightened his grasp on the tumbler, he had always been weak to talent and skill, hell even when Claude appeared he attempted to take control of the Head Chef. He only stopped when he noticed Ash attempting to wriggle his way into the chef's view and decided it was more interesting to watch those two. After all they still destroyed each other beautifully and it kept Claude in check for three years until Sebastian appeared, after that he had lost his grip on the man. Claude was altering the menu and taking business into his own hands. The last two contracts and large parties Ciel had nothing to do with, all of them were Claude's doing.
"I should have never listened to him about Sebastian," he muttered as he glared at his reflection in the window, narrowed sapphire eyes stared back at him as the angry red mark across his cheek stood out more with the swelling. "I should have kept searching," he stated as he groaned, he would have been saved this nightmare, even if Sebastian was beautiful if the man wasn't in his life he wouldn't have strayed, "Wrong, I would have anyway, she was boring me," he muttered now calling himself out. With a final glance at the amber colored liquid in the tumbler, he knocked it back and closed his eyes, getting drunk was the only possible solution, it meant he could sleep. He walked back over the side board and eyed the decanter, "Another glass," he mumbled as he reached to pull it from it's place, only to hear the phone ring.
He groaned before abandoning the tumbler and walking over to the phone, "Yes," he answered gruffly as he clutched the handset. "Sir, your father is on your way up," said the concierge from downstairs, Ciel's eyes grew larger, he reeked of booze and now his father was going to see him, "Bloody hell, what does he want?" he barked, he couldn't face his father and Alois in the same night. That was just too much.
"No idea sir, however he was carrying what looked like a stuffed bird," replied the concierge before promptly adding, "Good night sir." The line went dead and only now did Ciel realize the ramifications of fighting with Alois and getting drunk, "Fuck," he hissed before slamming the handset down and turned his attention to the door, there was a knock and Ciel felt his insides churn. "Let's get this over with," he stated as he walked over to the door and opened it.
Standing in the doorway was a taller slate haired man with hazel eyes, firm lips and gaunt face. He looked paler than usual and troubled, two things which in Ciel's life always meant something bad was coming. In moments a look of shock crossed his features, "What happened?" he asked quickly, his hands shot out to inspect the damage done to his son's face. They were cool and soothing to his injured jaw, "Alois, we had a fight," he replied as Vincent sighed and looked knowingly at his son. Ciel wasn't a fool he knew Vincent and Diedrich never struck one another, unless the pair were engaged in a boxing match, than anything went. "May I come in?" he asked hesitantly, Ciel sighed as he moved aside.
Vincent hummed as he looked over the interior, "It hasn't changed much since you moved it," he commented as he slipped a hand in his pocket, keeping the toy under his arm as though he were carrying a football, close and secure. It wasn't a design Ciel recognized, it must have been new. "Cute toy," commented Ciel. Vincent turned on his heel and looked at Ciel in confusion until he chuckled as he looked at his hands. "Ah, I must have forgotten to leave it in the car," he commented. Ciel huffed as he strode past the man, "You've had quite a bit to drink," commented Vincent, his eyes now fell on the nearly empty decanter. Ciel ignored him as he put ice in the glass and held it to his cheek. "It's been a long night," Ciel remarked as he leaned on the sideboard and looked at his father critically.
The man didn't even look like he had aged, he looked the same as all of his wedding photos, and those taken when Ciel was a child. It was amazing how little the man had aged with his job. "You should be popping champagne corks with Sebastian, Claude and William after that challenge. The desert was stunning," he commented. Ciel tensed, which clearly hadn't gone missed by Vincent. "You aren't happy," he stated as he looked out the window, as always Vincent was reading his son like an open book. "Why not?" he asked slowly as he gazed lazily out the window at the view from his son's flat.
"You're here," stated Ciel with irritation, he noticed a smirk of amusement from Vincent, not the response he desired. Vincent drew a deep breath and hummed, there was a pause as they stood in silence. Clearly Vincent was composing his thoughts, all Ciel could do was pray it wasn't a lecture. "You're mother, she's," he began and paused for a moment, "she had an appointment the other day," he stated. Ciel was frozen, this wasn't the discussion he saw coming, he never expected this, he thought he would be called out. "Oh?" asked Ciel as he sank into the sofa and lazily crossed his legs. Vincent hummed and nodded, "She's relapsed, and the chemo may not work," he continued. Ciel was frozen on the sofa as Vincent shifted the toy in his hands and brought it to his chest. There was a broad silence as Vincent looked at the toy that Ciel now realized was a raven in his arms. "She has a few months at most," he said sadly, "We wanted to tell you together, but the chemo took a lot out of her today."
Vincent looked at the toy in his hands before looking at Ciel, "Why did you tell me this?" asked Ciel suddenly, his tone was cool and clipped. He loved his parents, yet he couldn't stand the fact that again Vincent was going to leave him alone again. Vincent looked at Ciel, "I know you love her, even if you can't stand me for deciding to run and help your mother. Just don't let her fade away in sadness, please, try to act like we are a family," Vincent hissed in anger, "I'm losing her, I don't want to lose my son as well." Ciel huffed and looked at his father, of course he loved his mother, he just couldn't stand his father.
"Please, Ciel," Vincent begged, his voice was wavering as he did so and Ciel noted how his grip tightened on the toy. The raven was a rather beautiful piece and had all the hallmarks of the Funtom company, "What's the raven's name?" asked Ciel slowly, his voice was a little lighter, if there was one thing he knew would manage to soothe his father it was talking about the toys he helped make. "He doesn't have one, we wanted to make a companion for Bitter Rabbit, he looks too lonely in the case," commented Vincent as he held the prototype out to Ciel. Hesitantly the restaurant owner took the toy and felt it's soft stuffing just beneath the fabric. His eyes slid over the smart pinstripe red vest, it was silk. The raven's form was some what dark, yet welcoming as he slipped his fingers down it's body, they had chosen short hair for the fur which covered the bird. The crimson bow sang against the black body of the creature, it was truly a cute critter. "You're mother designed him, we are still tweaking it, though. She's not satisfied with him, and so hasn't named him yet," Vincent explained. Ciel turned the toy over in his hands, his mother had designed Bitter Rabbit, but Vincent was the one who chose the colors, "Did you chose the palate for this one as well?" he asked curiously.
Vincent simply shook his head, "No, Rachel did, she was drawing him during her chemo treatment, I snatched the designs and had a prototype made to show investors, naturally I stated we were still working it and wouldn't discontinue Bitter Rabbit," he explained. Ciel hummed, he didn't understand why Bitter couldn't simply be alone in his mother's eyes but did understand why his father was so quick to have the critter stitched together. As always the Funtom quality was unsurpassed, in every stitch. "This time, the cancer is more aggressive, I know I will lose her," Vincent said smoothly as he held his hand out for the toy, "But don't take my son too." Ciel handed the plush back to his father and watched as the man cradled it to his chest. He had never seen his father look like this, the man who could stare death in the face and laugh, actually looked frightened. "I understand," replied Ciel after a moment, the only hint that his father had even acknowledged the statement was a brisk nod of his head before the elder Phantomhive turned to leave. "You should really keep ice on that, it's going to get worse," he commented before striding away.
Ciel listened to the door of his flat latch and exhaled the breath he seemed to have been holding. His eyes fell on the place where his father had stood, that look of pain which had crossed Vincent Phantomhive's features was ingrained in his memory. A vulnerable look that served as a reminder that nothing was permanent. Like a ton of bricks it fell on Ciel, his mother was dying and this time there was no extra time, not extension, not even an extra turn. She would simply fade, he didn't want to watch her slowly vanish and become a husk. All of his actions were falling as he realized what he had done. He was in so deep there was no escape. Not only had he abused Sebastian, but he had purchased the man as though he were property from a woman his father was trying to push out of London in spite. He had destroyed his engagement with Lizzy and even his friendship with Alois. "What do I have left?" he asked as he looked at his empty palms, not even Sebastian would stay with him. His eyes fell on the tumbler which he had set down at some point. He grit his teeth as he picked it up and threw it at the wall, listening to it shatter with satisfaction. "No, I will not let this happen, if I get rid of Sebastian this all goes away," he hissed.
He ran his hand over his face as he attempted to figure out how he would do it, how he would be able to get Sebastian out of his way. A wicked grin curved his lips when his eyes settled on a photo on the mantle, if he couldn't get Sebastian to leave willingly he would just have to threaten the one person he cared about, "Claude," he whispered with a smug grin.