My first ever Kuroshitsuji fanfic. What a trip! This story idea initially belonged to an ancient fandom of mine and was incomplete, so I shipped the idea over to Kuroshitsuji. After all, I loved the idea and I felt it would do well as a Kuroshitsuji fic.

Please do tell me how the story came out. As I've said, I've never written a Kuroshitsuji fanfic before and I would like the feedback on how my story came out (like characterization and everything). Thank you in advance and do enjoy yourselves.

What Makes A Love Potion

Fresh, green trees stirred in the soft breeze of the early afternoon, leaving room for the rays of the sun to shuffle through before spilling onto the white floor of the kitchen. Baby birds, rising late from the slumbering hold of the night before, chirped a few lone notes that added a layer to the soft hum of a melody that floated in the bustling air of the kitchen.

A woman with flowing, auburn hair slowly danced her way to the stove as she checked the status of the bubbling pot of water. Taking the wooden spoon from off the perch it hung on, she stirred the water and the remainder of sugar that had yet to dissolve flared up in the waves of the water. A maid turned to look over her shoulder at the young mistress before returning to her place of putting away the dishes washed yesterday eve.

A soft "excuse me" escaped from the cook and the young woman pardoned herself as she let him reach for a whisk on the shelf. Placing the wooden spoon back onto its hook, she wandered back over to the counter where she had been working earlier; the cookie tray with her freshly made dough having now disappeared to make its way into the oven. She smiled towards the direction and was rather grateful for the household of servant's who made days run smoothly all together.

She washed her hands in the appropriate sink and wiped them dry on the bottom of her slightly dusty apron. Wandering over to the fridge, the young woman's blue eyes swept the shelves and she began pulling out the containers of liquid she'd need. The curious eyes of the scullery maid searched the young woman, but redirected its glance to the floor when the young woman smiled.

Turning blue eyes away from the embarrassed maid, the mistress of the household looked towards a kitchen maid who had taken responsibility for making the pink frosting for her cookies. She smiled softly, knowing very well that the maid had taken on the job because the staff wanted their kitchen back; never really having gotten used to the idea of her wandering into their domain occasionally. Well, she thought, there's only one more thing left to be done.

She retrieved a pitcher from the shelf where last evening's dishes had been left to dry and began pouring in five measured cups of cranberry juice. Back to humming her song as she poured in the third cup, the young woman hardly noticed when the flow of the kitchen was interrupted by the sound of new footprints. A hand surprised her slightly as it clung to the folds of her skirt, but her heartbeat thumped softly as she noticed the young boy who stood on his tiptoes to examine the counter.

"What are you doing, Mother?" came the small, frail voice as fingers unlaced from her skirts and wrapped around the marble counter top instead. The fingers whitened slightly as the little boy bounced up to see just slightly above the counter. His mother ruffled the cobalt blue hair and the little boy hopped down with a giggle, dashing from the room to go retrieve a chair. The sound of dragging wood was quickly replaced with the sound of his hurried return with a butler who carried the chair into the kitchen.

Rachel Phantomhive smiled and nodded a hello towards Tanaka as he bowed to leave the kitchen. The little boy scrambled up in the chair next to his mother and leaned onto the counter, he turned his head to look up into sapphire eyes.

His mother examined him for a few minutes. The large eyes staring back at her were definitely hers, but the color of his cobalt hair had to be the father's who had just left this morning on royal orders. She smiled at the boy's messy face. He had been in lessons directly after breakfast and had gotten the chalk from his board all over his face. She grabbed a cloth from the table next to her and rested her eyes on a maid by the sink; she motioned her over and asked her to place water on the small towel as she retrieved a new one for her mistress too.

When she returned, Rachel ran the small hand towel over the boy's face and he huffed as he pulled his face away from the cool rag. She reached out and locked her fingers on the boy's chin as she continued to scrub at his face.

"Mooooooooooooom," he groaned, trying unsuccessfully to remove her fingers from his face. She smiled at the struggling boy, but only released her hold when she had examined his face and satisfactorily found that the chalk dust was gone. He rubbed the cool residue off his face and looked up to watch his mom measure out two cups of pineapple juice.

She measured in another half a cup before reaching for the orange juice, noticing her son dipping a semi-wet finger into the sugar and placing it in his mouth. She mockingly put her hands on her waist as if she were about to lecture him. He looked up at the swift motion and smiled cheekily before closing the bag of sugar. She kissed his forehead and handed the sugar over to a maid who was walking by.

"What are you doing, Mommy?" came the voice again as the boy hopped down from the chair and followed his mother back over to the stove. She removed the boiling water and placed it on an unused stove top to allow it to cool.

"Shh…" she hushed, placing a sole finger to her lips before she turned and headed back to the counter, smiling. He cocked a brow in curiosity, watching her walk away, until he dashed after her and scrambled back into the chair. He leaned on the back of the chair and dropped his voice to a whisper as she began pouring in a cup of orange juice.

"What are you doing?" he repeated, nervously shooting glances at the help that surrounded them, as if they were not meant to hear the words his mother would utter.

"Can you keep a secret, Ciel?" He stood erect again and looked at her, searchingly.

"But, Mommy, you said secrets were bad." He exclaimed, after a pause. She nodded in approval.

"Sorry, dear, Mommy selected the wrong word. This isn't much of a secret… rather, it's a surprise."

"A surprise?" Ciel echoed.

"Yes," she answered, smiling at his puzzled expression, "I wanted to surprise Daddy today."

"But that doesn't tell me what you're doing at all!" he answered after another short spell of silence.

"Very perceptive of you," she nudged his chin gently and watched his face swell with pride. She dropped her voice and continued, "I'm making a potion."

"A… potion? Like those witches in the story books?" Ciel asked in glee, imagining young men riding on bright steeds to defeat the wicked witches who trapped their beloveds. He looked up at her with fascination lining his irises as the images of fantasy stories she'd read to him occasionally continued to flicker behind blue eyes.

"Precisely. But this is a special potion, Ciel. You see, it's a love potion." She continued in her quiet voice. "I want Daddy to love me forever, baby. So every year I make him this special potion and he falls in love with me again and again."

"Does it really work?" She smiled at him and nodded. His attention was focused on the fourth cup of orange juice that she drained into the pitcher. She lifted the pitcher and handed it to him to carry to the refrigerator. His arms slightly buckled under the weight of the pitcher, but she made sure he held it fast and steady before releasing it to him. She helped him down from the chair and then walked ahead of him to hold open the fridge. He placed the liquid concoction on the top shelf of the fridge and turned to look at her expectantly.

"Yes, Ciel, it always works."

"A love potion…" he repeated to himself in awe as he watched his mother direct a comment to a maid before disappearing around the corner.

A wide yawn tore through his mouth and wracked his body slightly as he tensed up and relaxed his stiffened muscles. Blinking a few times, Ciel tore the newspaper away from his face and folded it haphazardly before stacking it on top of the book his English teacher had instructed him to read three days ago. He huffed in annoyance and began tracing the design on the cover of the novel that was exposed under the newspaper, wondering what on earth spurred the remembrance of a happy event that happened years ago; it certainly wasn't the dreary news that had put him to sleep in the first place.

Turning in his seat, Ciel leaned over the arm of the chair and stared out the wide, curtain-framed window of his study. He watched as the small drizzle danced on the tip of tree leaves before falling down to the earth below. Outside, he could see the wide mouth of Finnian, his gardener, as the youth pointed and complained about a mistake that Ciel failed to see from this view of the garden.

He could not see the expression of the black-clad butler who stood with his back towards the young master of the house, although he could easily imagine the frown lining his features. Ciel stretched his arms far above his head and slumped in his chair; perhaps it would be awhile then before he had to hear the chastisement of his butler at his lack of work this evening. He eyed the paper documents on his desk warily, allowing his gaze to rest upon the seal and ink he'd use for approval.

Ciel considered summoning the probably already disgruntled butler to fix him a sweet snack, but he had walked out of the room of his study before deciding against it. If he really wanted a sweet snack, he had a better chance at getting it out of the cook than getting it out of his butler; although, he would have to deal with an already packaged sweet as a trade off. He walked the calm hall ways, tracing his finger along the various statues leaning against the walls; a thin film of dust collecting at the tip of his index. Ciel rubbed the particles mostly off before dusting the rest against the bottom of his shorts.

Meilin, catching sight of the young master, jumped and curtsied politely in recognition of his passage before her. In the process of her sweep, the maid managed to successfully bump the bust of a famous Renaissance playwright, whose name escaped him, from off a side table. The sculpture wobbled on its base before it pitched and tumbled to its demise upon the recently polished floor.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and turned to look behind her as Ciel simply stood and watched. Her face flushed in embarrassment and she began to stutter incoherently about Sebastian. She looked Ciel in the face and became even more flustered at her lack of coordination; she fumbled an apology before running away to retrieve a broom.

Walking over to the ruined, ceramic bust, Ciel picked up the nose and watched as a corner of it cracked off and fell to the floor. He tossed it once into the air and caught it in his hand lightly. Since it did not decay any more than that, Ciel went along his way to the kitchen with the nose in tow. He started whistling a song he was learning on the violin as he entered the kitchen and Bard looked up in surprise.

The older man stared at Ciel dumbfounded, goggles over his eyes and a long, thin cannon resting over his shoulder aimed at the small, plucked and cleaned duck on the counter. Ciel raised an eyebrow in greeting and Bard smiled widely at the thirteen-year-old head of house. "Hey, how's it going?"

"I'm hungry." Ciel stated, simply. Bard nodded in acknowledgment as he aimed the cannon at the fowl. He had removed the trigger on the cannon and had the bird in sight when he suddenly realized that, as the cook, Ciel's comment would be directed as a command to him. In a flash, he dropped the cannon and snapped his hand to his forehead in real acknowledgment of the young master.

The cannon, as it hit the floor, fired a hole in the roof, and Meilin shrieked as the fire flamed past her and out the roof of the floor above. There was a loud thud as she fainted, and the pieces of the broken ceiling collapsed and hit Bard in the head. Bard dropped into a squat behind the counter and held onto his head in pain.

"Are you okay?" Ciel asked, nonchalantly, when Bard failed to answer him. The man was shaking with the pain of the plaster hitting him, so he knew he was still alive. Ciel wandered over to the counter that lined the wall of the kitchen and removed a bar of chocolate from the set that sat neatly in the corner. Pealing the wrapper open, Ciel bit off a piece and stepped over the wreckage littering the kitchen floor to open the fridge.

As he was searching through the fridge for any sweets Sebastian may have left, Ciel found three bottles in the back that brought the memory of his mother fresh to his mind. Her bright face smiled at him, and Ciel reached out a tentative hand to remove the orange juice from the fridge. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the chef, who was now sitting, cross-legged, on the floor as he massaged his temple.

Ciel wandered over towards the counter where he stood and took a clean pot from the bottom of the shelf that had managed to hide itself from falling debris. Placing it under the faucet, Ciel ran water in it close to the top and placed it on the stove. He turned the knob once and listened as the oven clicked to life.

Ciel left the stove top and opened the long cupboard in the corner of the room. Pulling himself up on the tip of his feet and climbing up a few shelves, Ciel managed to tilt the tucked away bag of sugar towards him. As he pulled the bag to him, a flurry of white particles rained down on his head and Ciel coughed as he breathed in the snow of sugar. However, he managed to successfully get the now three-fourths full bag of sugar from the cabinet.

He poured in a good amount of sugar and wondered if that amount could possibly be dissolved in the water in the pot. Turning to stare into the cloudy concoction, Ciel hoped that that was all his mother had added into the water in order to make her potion; his brow crinkling slightly in discontent as he realized he had never actually learned how to make it. He stopped for a second, holding the bag at an angle away from his body as the image of his mother faded into the sharper features of his butler. A small heat flushed in his cheeks and Ciel looked towards the garden in annoyance, telling himself that he was listening hard to see if he could hear the rain rather than the deep tones of his butler's voice. Either way, he heard nothing.

Snapping off another bite of the chocolate bar he'd taken, Ciel placed a pitcher and a plastic spoon on the counter. Removing the cranberry juice from the open door of the fridge, Ciel began pouring a good amount of the liquid into the plastic container he had retrieved. He tilted his hand too far up however, and the pitcher filled half way full of the red liquid. Ciel pulled the pitcher off the counter in annoyance and slowly began dumping the excessive amount of liquid into the sink.

Placing the clear pitcher on the counter, Ciel bent down to eye level and decided that he had gotten the juice into about the same level his mother had. He really wished he knew the measurements though, he thought bitterly, as he began pouring in the pineapple juice next. Before the juice could reach a level that satisfied Ciel however, the jug coughed and relieved itself of the remainder of the flavored drops within. Ciel stared into the pitcher as his brow furrowed together; there was no way this was going to end well….

He tossed the pineapple carton behind him and unconsciously hit Bard in the head with the empty bottle. Bard shuddered under the impact and then shook his head, clutching onto the counter when the room started spinning. He looked at his feet in order to regain the balance and order that normally constructed his world. When the world settled back into place, he looked around in horror at the destruction that filled his current surrounding. Bard knew he was screwed at that point.

Ciel finished pouring in the orange juice that he felt was the right amount and stirred the liquids together. Pouring it into a small tea cup that had been washed after morning, Ciel tried the concoction. Leaning his head side to side in thought, Ciel decided it wasn't exactly like the small vial sample his mother had given him, but it probably wasn't the worst thing he could've produced in the kitchen. He could just imagine exactly how baking a cake might turn out for him in the end.

He pushed the pitcher onto the top shelf of the fridge and closed the door to leave it to chill. Ciel went over to the stove and hopped onto the counter next to it, stirring the sugar that had yet to dissolve as Bard panicked in the mess he made. The young earl watched as he haphazardly repaired the roof with wooden boards and nails, as if the only ceiling affected was the one directly above the kitchen. Bard began sweeping the dust and particles of the ceiling under the counter closest to him with a broom next.

Finishing the last bit of his chocolate bar, Ciel threw the wrapper over towards Bard and watched as the older man swept that under the counter too. He grinned at Ciel, a tooth pick hanging loosely from his lips, "All done, right? Looks good?"

"Like a cat walked home in this weather, cleaned itself, and hacked up a dirt-covered, fur ball."

Bard drew his eyebrows together in confusion, "Like a… cat…? Cleaned itself…? Fur ball? So then… the cat had cleaned itself, and they're such neat creatures, then… It's good, right? Right!"

Ciel rolled his eyes and was irked to realize that the sugar refused to dissolve anymore. Looking around his current settings, Ciel failed to find a container and began scooping out spoonfuls of sugar, which he left on the counter top next to him. Pulling the pot off the hot stove top, Ciel moved it over onto an unoccupied one and turned off the one he'd been using.

He hopped down from the counter next to the stove and went to go check on the condition of his pitcher of juice. Ciel looked past it and shuffled through the juices and drink mixtures on the top shelf. He looked at the milk in frustration and turned swiftly on his heel, the name was half way out his mouth when he stopped.

He turned and looked towards Bard, who looked at him confused. Turning away as he felt his face grow warm with the attention, Ciel calmly walked through the kitchen and opened the door leading outside. A gust of cool air hit his face and he shivered as he leaned out of the house. Clearing his throat, Ciel cried at the top of his lungs for Finni. A loud, happy exclamation reached his ears and Ciel wondered if he'd really heard the growl after Finni's cheerful, "Oops! Sorry, Sebastian."

The blonde hair youth bounced joyously over to the young master and grinned widely as he saluted him, "How can I help you? Oh, wow! What happened to the kitchen?"

Finni walked into the house and looked around as Ciel closed the big door behind them. Bard shuddered and slowly turned to face Finni, "It's that obvious…?"

"Well, yeah! There's dust and… and… plaster everywhere. Did you blow up the roof?" Finni looked up and gasped loudly, "Bard! Sebastian's going to kill you!!"

"You don't have to say it so cheerfully…" Bard groaned, the feeling of being a condemned man destined to hang from the ropes sinking in more fully. Ciel cleared his throat and both of them snapped to attention and turned to face the young master.

"Finni, I need you to go out and get me lemon-lime soda." Ciel turned Finni's hand up and placed some money into the gardener's still muddy gloves. He looked at his hands in disgust and wished he'd considered that before he had handed him the money. Sighing, Ciel wiped his hand on Finni's shirt, "And do make sure you're quick about it."

"Ai, ai, captain!" Finni saluted again, flinging mud against his forehead in the motion. He dashed off with the money and slid out of the kitchen on his mud-caked shoes. Ciel looked at the floor and followed the mud trail with his eyes. He turned to look at Bard, and the older man shrugged.

Sitting on the counter again, Ciel leaned back onto his outstretched palms as his eyes slowly closed in meditation. A part of him wondered if there was any truth to his mother's words, but knew instantaneously that they held no meaning; love potions and magic did not exist in the world. Tensing his fingers a little, Ciel recalled that neither was a creature of the night, like his butler, supposed to exist. He relaxed his fingers a little as his mouth smoothed back into a straight line. Did that mean that a love potion could exist in the same environment, the same air, as a demon?

Ciel truthfully hoped so as the deep sounds of velvet rode in the slight drizzle of the rain that drifted to him. His eyes shot open in alarm and the young boy jumped off the counter at the realization that Sebastian was approaching. Ciel pointed hurriedly at his cook, "You stay here!"

He threw the cupboard open and pushed around a few black pots and pans as he ducked into the mess. The toothpick fell out of Bard's mouth as he looked towards Ciel in shock, "I don't want to—"

"Shut the cabinet door!" Ciel hissed, and Bard quickly obeyed the young earl's request; barely closing the door as Sebastian entered the kitchen from the garden entryway. Red eyes examined the cook as Sebastian shook out the remaining water clinging to his wet tailcoat before draping it over his arm. He opened his mouth to greet the frazzled man when his eyes quickly assessed the damage to the kitchen. Bard grinned widely as he noticed the butler's features slowly darken.

"I—"

"What. Happened. To. The. Kitchen?" came the dark voice.

"I—er. Umm…" Bard started, folding his arm behind his head as he ruffled his short, blonde hair in discomfort, "Well, I was cooking the duck…"

"With what?" Sebastian asked, the tone in his voice becoming light as his features shifted into a smile. Bard dropped his arm from his head and shifted his eyes towards the farthest exit away from the butler.

"I'm really, really sorry, Sebastian… I… um…" He cupped his hand to his ear and pretended to strain his hearing, "I think Meilin's calling, excuse me!"

Sebastian sighed, his shoulders slightly drooping in disappointment with the servants he'd hand-selected. Placing his jacket on a hook next to the door, Sebastian retrieved a broom from the cabinet and turned to look again at the sloppily swept floor. "Really now," he frowned, slightly pulling at the wet, creased shirt that clung to his skin, "I guess I'll have to wait to change…"

Ciel cursed his luck internally as he bashed his elbow into the handle of a pan, which was drowned by the sound of the cupboard shutting from which Sebastian retrieved the broom. The butler quietly started sweeping Bard's debris out from under the island in the center of the kitchen as Ciel opened the door to peek out. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed Sebastian's muscles flex under the motion of his sweep and Ciel turned his gaze away from the man as his cheeks grew warm.

Sebastian moved his hand off the broom stick and frowned slightly at the mud prints his garden-worked hands left. Removing his gloves gingerly with his teeth, Sebastian rolled them into a ball and placed them in the pockets of his tailcoat before returning to sweeping the mess out from under the counter top. Quietly humming to himself in amusement, Sebastian smiled as he swept the last piece of debris into his pile. Neatly walking over to the cabinet next to Ciel's, Sebastian reached an ungloved hand in to the depths of the shelving unit as a million curses floated to the young earl's clenched teeth.

Bending his knees at odd angles, Ciel barely missed Sebastian stroking his hand against the earl's leg as he pulled out the box of trash bags. Ciel nearly sighed when the cabinet door shut the light out again, but the sound died in the beating of the blood against his ear drums.

The young earl repositioned his strained legs and listened as the deep sound of Sebastian's voice hummed an old melody that Ciel could barely place. He pushed the cupboard door open with a finger and placed his ear at the crack, listening to the piece carefully. The name was on the tip of his tongue when the door closed sharply on his ear as Sebastian commented about the cook's careless habits of leaving cupboards open. Ciel cringed in pain and clasped his hands to his right ear as a hiss escaped between his teeth; tears welling in his eyes at the sharp sensation.

Stopping, Sebastian put his hand to his chin thoughtfully as his eyes widened a fraction in curiosity. He eyed the cooling liquid on the top of the stove top, "What exactly was he up to with a bubbling pot of water and a duck?"

Sebastian eyed the pot carefully, knowing full well that a pot of water was not the place to cook the fowl, before he redirected his gaze towards the door.

"I got the—" Finni stopped, dumbfounded, and looked around him. Ciel opened his eyes, which had closed when the pain had started, in alarm; he could not afford to have Sebastian wise about what the young earl was up to!

"Ah!" Sebastian commented, directing his gaze towards the muddy swamp that Finni had brought with him, "So you are the one tracking mud into the kitchen."

"Huh!" Finni dropped his gaze, holding the bottle of lemon-lime soda by the neck in his right hand, "Oh! I'm so sorry, Sebastian! I didn't even notice that I had mud on my feet!!"

"It's quite alright, Finni, but you really ought to remember that you work outdoors. Meaning, you need to carefully wash yourself off before you come into the young master's house. What would he think if he saw you like this?"

"Eh…" Finni looked down, embarrassed.

"Please go wash up before dinner. You have no need to be outdoors any longer tonight, so you can keep charge of the plants indoors. However, do wash and change into a fresh pair of clothes first." Sebastian urged, guiding Finni out of the room with a black-nailed hand applying pressure to the youth's shoulder blade as the other hand remained gently folded behind his back.

Finni nodded in conviction as he turned the corner before he suddenly spun around to face the butler, "Where's the young master? I'm supposed to give this to him."

Sebastian looked at the bottle as Ciel damned the gardener under his breath; pushing open the door a little bit, Ciel carefully peered through the crack. He saw Sebastian smile at the youth as he carefully balanced the plastic bottle of soda on his fully outstretched palm. "I will make sure to deliver it to the young master, Finni. Please, go wash up."

Finni nodded and brightly thanked Sebastian as he dashed off with his muddy shoes. Sebastian sighed and massaged his temples before turning around to face the pile of debris now dusted onto the trash bag he'd laid down for it. He looked up at the roof and wondered if he'd better start diverting tasks among the other servants. Pulling out his silver pocket watch, he frowned at the time before quickly snatching up the pile of debris and tying the bag together.

Dropping the bag by the door, Sebastian placed the liter of soda in the fridge and decided it would only be appropriate if he changed first before anything else. After all, it would hardly be appropriate to approach the young master in his state of dishevelment and he needed the kitchen to be spotless for preparations. Jumping lightly onto the island in the kitchen, Sebastian plied the boards off the roof in order to have better access to the holes above. Fetching the young master would have to be reassigned to the young maid before she was to clean the floor of mud. Crouching low, a knowing smirk lined the butler's features before he jumped through the holes in the roof to reach the first most damaged level.

Ciel held his breath as he waited for Sebastian to come back into the room at any second, but the butler did not return. Pushing open the cabinet door, Ciel made his way out of the cupboard under the sink on his hands and knees. Sitting down on his butt, Ciel let out a relieved huff as he started rubbing at the reddened bends in his elbows and knees. He wished Sebastian had decided to be quicker about cleaning up the floor of the kitchen like he had been about the roof. Letting his hands rest on his knees, he wondered how much time he had before the butler came back to successfully begin dinner.

Shooting up onto his feet, Ciel stumbled and clutched onto the edge of the counter at the sudden realization that his butler would return at any moment. He stabilized himself before he briskly walked to the fridge to snatch the chilled pitcher from within its depths with one hand and the liter of soda with the other. The tri-colored liquid sloshed against the side of the plastic before splashing over the edge and cascading onto the bottom of the fridge and the recently cleaned floor. Ciel ignored it, however, as he rushed back over to the stove top.

Placing the pitcher on the counter top next to the stove, Ciel let the soda bottle fall onto its side with a thud as he carefully lifted up the cooled sugar water. Emptying the contents into the pitcher, the young earl snatched the soda bottle off the counter top next. After quickly unscrewing the top, Ciel was surprised when the soda suddenly shot out from the bottle and into his face. He gurgled sounds of complaint as the soda finished its explosion over the surface of his face and hair.

However, Ciel had no time to complain as he felt the time slowly slipping away like the particles of sand under the feet when in the ocean. He poured the soda into the mixture, but the liquid spilled over the plastic pitcher when a low voice interrupted the beating of his heart. His face flushed.

"There you are, young master."

"S-Sebastian!" Ciel froze, unsure of if he should turn around. He jumped, however, when the liquid from the cool soda swept over the counter and seeped into his shoes.

Sebastian clicked his tongue twice, "Young master, if you needed anything, you should've come got me."

"I couldn't." Ciel stated stubbornly, "You were busy."

"My job is you, young master. I could easily have put aside the activities of my afternoon to come serve you."

"Whatever." Ciel muttered, his stomach knotting as he felt large hands snake around his stomach. He felt warm breath stir the hairs on the back of his neck as a cheek gently nestled against the back of his head. Sebastian placed cool lips to the back of Ciel's head.

"I suppose I should take in account your snacking when I make dinner tonight." Ciel's fingers twitched against his crossed arms as he refrained from reaching out for the butler's retreating hands. Sebastian turned and retrieved a pot from under the counter where Ciel had resided earlier. Ciel let his blue eye gaze up at the smooth finish of the job the butler had done on the roof.

"Sebastian, get me a cup."

"Yes, my lord." And Ciel listened as Sebastian noiselessly moved to fetch him a fancy champagne glass, which he placed next to his master with a small clink on the table. Ciel turned his head slightly to look at the glass and waited until Sebastian was back over to the island preparing utensils for dinner before he unlocked his arms. He reached out for the glass and was surprised that Sebastian had found him a rather fancy glass.

Turning to look at the demon butler, Ciel watched his back for a few moments before recalling the image of Sebastian's wet shirt clinging to his back. Ciel quickly turned away as his face instantly heated, and he forcefully guided his mind back towards the drink. The sensation of Sebastian's muscles tensing and flexing under fingernails changed to a darker lit area as Ciel imagined his mouth opening in a gasp and the smooth smirk lining the butler's features. Ciel suddenly froze in alarm and shook his head wildly to dislodge the thought from his head.

"Young master, please!" Sebastian begged, turning to look towards him. "You're hair is wet and you're shaking that out everywhere…."

"Quiet, Sebastian." Ciel growled, "No one asked you for your opinion."

Sebastian smiled politely at his master and bowed his head in acknowledgement of the command. "As you wish."

Ciel lifted the spoon off the counter where he had left it earlier and swirled the juice concoction a little bit more. He looked at it in disapproval, aware that his mother's had been a lighter, pink color and had looked perfect. Sighing, Ciel put the spoon down and lifted the pitcher to pour into the glass. He nearly dropped it for the second time when he felt his butler's body press him against the counter as he reached for a whisk on the shelf above.

"Pardon me." Sebastian calmly stated, smiling down at the young earl before pulling away. Ciel snarled at the boldness of his servant and watched as he retreated back to the clean island where he had started chopping vegetables.

Turning back to his pitcher, Ciel started pouring in a small amount of the liquid until he was about an inch from the surface of the rim. He stared at the swirling liquid in the cup as he held the pitcher in his hand. Spinning on his heel to face Sebastian, Ciel ordered him to place the pitcher back onto the shelf in the refrigerator. Sebastian bowed and carefully followed the young earl's command as he instructed.

Ciel held the glass stem between his fingers and lifted it to the light, examining the mostly red beverage. He leaned back against the counter until his lower back touched the edge. Extending his hand out, Ciel held the glass away from his body and spoke, "Sebastian, come here."

The butler turned and looked at him, a bit of annoyance lining his features as he carefully grinded the pepper in with the tomatoes in the pot. He had a dinner to prepare, after all, and the young earl kept disrupting him from the task, "Yes, my lord?"

"Come here, Sebastian." Ciel tried again, and this time the butler did as asked of him. Stepping away from the island, Sebastian's eyes flickered across the young earl's face as he attempted to read the emotion off the stony expression before him. "Drink this."

Coming full stop before the earl, Sebastian's brow creased slightly in curiosity as he gently eased the glass out of his master's hand. He held it up to the light and watched the bubbles illuminate as the beverage sparkled, "What is it supposed to be?"

"Just drink it." Ciel commanded, closing his eyes in annoyance and partially in an attempt to avoid the comments about his mistake.

Sebastian lifted the glass to his lips and tauntingly asked, "Is there poison in it, young master?"

"I know that wouldn't work!" Ciel growled, snapping his eyes back open and glaring at the demon as he slowly downed the substance.

Removing the empty glass from his lips, Sebastian smirked, "So, you are considering doing away with me, my lord?"

"That's not what I meant!" Ciel snarled angrily, squeaking only when he felt hands close around his waist and raise him from the floor. Sebastian pulled the squirming thirteen-year-old into his arms and hugged him tightly to him. Ciel relaxed into the hug and averted his gaze to the exit into the garden at his left. Sebastian lowered Ciel onto the counter top and the youth gnarled his nose as he felt his hand slip into the sticky sugar blob he'd spilled onto the counter before and the liquid moving through the bottom of his shorts.

"Thank you, my lord." Sebastian whispered, nuzzling his nose against the earl's neck lovingly. Ciel shuddered as a shiver ran up and through his spine, but, as a means to counter the sensation, he crossed his arms tightly as he sat there.

"You're welcome, ungrateful servant." Ciel jumped as he felt something warm and wet slide against the crook of his neck. "W-What are you doing?" he stammered, his hands moving up against Sebastian's shoulder blades in alarm.

"Cleaning, young lord."

"With what?! You're—" Sebastian smirked against his neck.

"Young master, as your butler, it is quite normal that I be able to handle a job like this. However, I cannot currently resurrect a bath for your comfort as I, too, am rather busy. So, I must make do with the utensils I have on me."

"Like your tongue?" Ciel asked, turning his face away as he felt heat rise to his cheeks.

"Like," Sebastian purred, turning Ciel's face back towards his, "my tongue."

Ciel stared at him and finally averted his gaze from the smiling one of his butler's, "Whatever." But Ciel relaxed against the butler's body as he felt his tongue sweep over the pale skin of his neck. He slowly loosened the tension in his hands from the butler's shoulders and wrapped them around the man's neck as he placed his face into Sebastian's chest. A sort of comfort swept through his body as he sat there and the words replayed through his head.

"Does it really work, Mommy?"

"Yes, dear, always…."

"I love you, my lord." Sebastian whispered against Ciel's neck and the youth felt the butterflies alight in his stomach. He tightened his hug around the butler's neck as the other slid him off the counter and into his arms.

"I love you, too, Sebastian…." Ciel yawned, the stress of his little misadventure finally catching up with the thirteen-year-old boy. He blinked tiredly and slowly let his eyelids lower as he comfortably slipped into sleep in the butler's arms.

"Yes, my dear, always…."

Finally, as a treat to my reader, here is the actual drink recipe:

Mock Pink Champagne

½ cup sugar

1 ½ cups water

2 cups cranberry juice

½ cup orange juice

1 cup pineapple juice

2 bottles lemon-lime soda

Directions
Boil sugar and water until the sugar dissolves, and allow to cool. Stir cranberry, pineapple, and orange juice, and chill. Prior to serving, add carbonated beverage.