That Butler, New Face

That Butler, Busy 2

"Oh, yes... and the Herend Chinoiserie tea set you ordered just the other day has arrived, Sir," Sebastian said as he began dressing Ciel. "Therefore, the afternoon tea for today will be Keemun. We also have berries, so I think a summer pudding of currants and other berries might do nicely. What do you think?"

"Do what you will," Ciel said carelessly as Sebastian tied Ciel's bow tie.

"Very good, Sir. Then I shall set about the preparations for tomorrow at once," Sebastian said, taking his leave. 'Now then... here is where a butler's true work begins,' the demon thought.

=†=†=†=†=

{The Phantomhive Downstairs—Sebastian's personal kitchen}

Sebastian rolled up his sleeves, tied his apron, and pulled his cooking gloves on. He stared at them for a moment. They had been Chêne's idea. Once they had added on more staff, it had been necessary for Sebastian to be able to hide the contract mark on his hands at all times, so that no humans other than Ciel or Chêne would find out his true identity. Not everyone was as accepting of demons as they were. Chêne had come up with the idea of cooking with gloves because it was actually something that a few high-class restaurants in her world required chefs to do, since it was supposedly more hygienic. Oddly enough, Chêne had also said that hiding his contract mark would not have been a problem if they were in her world, because tattoos were extremely common there, and pentacles had become such a mainstream symbol that no one would've taken it seriously at all.

"Well, shall we get started?" Sebastian said, smirking, as he clapped his hands together. It was unfortunate that he and Chêne had had another fight, but she would soon forgive him, just as she always had. Chêne seemed unable to stay mad at anyone for very long. Sebastian had decided that she was probably incapable of holding a grudge. Well, perhaps he would 'accidentally' make a little something extra, and give the leftovers to Chêne to help speed up the process. Sebastian opened the cookbook to the recipe for making chocolate that could be poured into a mould and began carrying out the instructions as he read.

Finely chop the best dark and milk couverture and mix. Melt over a bowl of 60° C water. After boiling and then cooling slightly, add some fresh cream. Cool while stirring, and add some cointreau when the mixture is at body temperature. Then, pour into the mould, and—

"Gyaaaaaaaah!!" Sebastian was brought out of the graceful rhythm with which he had been reading and preparing the chocolate when he heard a disturbingly loud scream of panic from who could only be Mei-Rin.

"...!?" Sebastian said, slightly taken aback. "What is going on?" the demon butler wondered out loud as he furrowed his brow slightly in irritation. What could have possibly gone wrong now? Chêne usually managed to keep Mei-Rin and the others' little mishaps to a minimum for him, but since Chêne wasn't working today, and they had just had a fight... who knew what mayhem Mei-Rin was causing without her babysitter around.

=†=†=†=†=

{The laundry room}

"Mei-Rin?" Sebastian said as he opened the door cautiously. "What on earth is going—"

"Mister Sebastiaaaaaaan!" Mei-Rin yelled hysterically as she threw herself at him, trying to outrun the avalanche of bubbles that had almost buried her before he opened the door.

"!?" Sebastian gasped, startled. "Why are there bubbles everywhere!?" Sebastian yelled, stunned. The entire room was filled from floor to ceiling with soap bubbles. How was that even possible?

"This detergent! I put it in!" Mei-Rin cried, pointing at the box of laundry detergent she was holding in her hand. "XXX (30) spoonfuls, just as the directions say, but something seems to have gone wrooooong! Miss Chêne usually does this part for me, but she told me yesterday that the instructions were on the baaaack!" Mei-Rin sobbed, hoping Sebastian wouldn't punish her too badly. Sebastian took the box from the sobbing maid and looked at it. The amounts to be used for the different sized loads were written down on the back in roman numerals.

"Mei-Rin. This reads III (3) spoonfuls, not XXX (30)," Sebastian bluntly informed her. It was beyond him how anyone could make such an idiotic mistake.

"Eh!?" Mei-Rin shouted, startled, flinching and going blue with shock at the magnitude of her mistake. So, it really was her fault for misreading it!

'Why this imbeci—that is to say, housemaid. It would seem the problem no longer lies in her eyesight. Why does she fail to realize that there is something clearly wrong with her own brain and not the instructions?' Sebastian thought. 'Word has it that the public adores silly maids, but I do not think I will ever understand it. (And I have no intention to do so.) I myself would like to wring her neck. At least when Chêne thinks she might be mistaken, she checks with me before things turn out like this...' "Haah... all right," Sebastian said, sighing in exasperation and resignation. This mess wasn't going to fix itself. "For the moment, please leave this to me." Sebastian quickly scrubbed the floor, cleaned up the bubbles, washed the sheets and hung them outside on the clothesline to dry. "... Whew," Sebastian said, wiping a bubble off of his head once everything was done. Mei-Rin stared in awe at the now pristine white sheets that were gently swaying in the breeze. Sebastian had been fast. "I still have much to do, so I shall be taking my leave. Please return to work as well," Sebastian told the blushing maid as he left to continue his own work.

=†=†=†=†=

"Really..." Sebastian said as he returned to his kitchen. "All this when I am already running short on time," he said as he shut the door behind him. "Now, where was I...?" Sebastian said, smirking as he held up the frying pan and began reading again.

Place the butter and water in a skillet and bring to a boil. Extinguish the gas. Sift the flour and baking powder into the mixture. After stirring the mixture with a wooden spatula, heat on a low flame—

*KABOOM!*

The room shook slightly from the force of the explosion from down the hall.

"!?" Sebastian said. "What is it this time!?"

=†=†=†=†=

As Sebastian approached the main kitchen, where Bard was supposed to be preparing Ciel's lunch, he noticed that there was smoke coming out of the doorway, and the door frame was cracked and scorched with burn marks. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Bard was sitting on the floor, in front of the oven... holding a bazooka. If Chêne had seen that, she would have face-faulted. What was a weapon like that doing in the 1800s...? The whole kitchen looked like a war zone, and Bard had been fried black. He even had an afro now.

"Well, ya see, I got this new weapon from back home, but..." Bard said. "It doesn't work at all... Geez!"

"Making roast lamb with lavender does not require that much heat... To begin with, is that even a tool for cooking?" Sebastian said, suddenly feeling exhausted

"Don'cha sweat the details! Cooking is art! And art is explosion!" Bard roared passionately, clenching his fist.

"Is it now," Sebastian said, stunned. That was the first he had ever heard of it... No, wait—he seemed to recall Chêne watching an 'anime' on her 'portable DVD player' (which had been in her bag to entertain her younger sister during her family's trip) with the young master one time that had a character that had said something to that effect before... The two incidents had better not be related, for Chêne's sake. Either way, this was ridiculous. 'Why, this imbec—rather, chef. You should talk about cooking after you have actually 'cooked' something. I believe eighty percent of what you have managed to 'cook' has been charcoal. The other twenty percent was hazardous waste,' Sebastian thought, chagrined. 'Save your art for your hairstyle, and cook something edible... otherwise... I wish for you to become charcoal yourself.'