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It was only a matter of time before Alec got bored. He was the youngest there in the Very Nice garden party. No one seemed to be paying any real attention to him. Sure he'd gotten the turn around and introduced to Important People by Andrew. (Benefactor... tragic accident with parents... father worked in one Andrew's companies... blah... blah blah). Then the older women coo'd over him and pinched his cheeks. He got a lot of, "You're such a lucky little boy."

But that was over now.

Everyone was ignoring him.

His shoes pinched.

And then he heard a couple of people talking about how people in France ate snails. Curious, he decided to hunt out some snails to see if it really was as tasty as they said.

Alec couldn't find any snails, but there were slugs.

Slugs. Snails. Same thing, right?

A few minutes later a waiter walked up to Andrew and cleared his throat briefly.

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Andrew had been animately discussing a business deal with a very important fellow -- though not as important as Andrew himself, of course -- when the waiter cleared his throat. He turned around impatiently. "Yes?"

"Excuse me for interrupting you sir, but you might wish to attend to the child you brought with you," he says with all proper deference. He inclines his head in the direction of one of the planters.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me," he said to the important fellow, who was looking slightly alarmed, and strode over to the planters.

"Alec." It was one word, but it spoke volumes. It was simultaneously a question as to what, exactly, Alec was doing to get himself in trouble, and an admonition to stop it.

Alec looks up at his name. He has a cracker from one of the cheese trays in one hand and there's a tiny slug on it. The slug is trying to make a break for freedom.

His eyes go wide a bit and he drops the cracker, not guiltily, just out of surprise. "Sir?" he asks.

Observe Andrew sighing heavily, putting one hand to his forehead as though a headache is imminent. Which it may well be. Children.

"Are you attempting to eat that?" he asks, pointing at the offending slug which is crawling its way off the cracker as he speaks.

He looks at the slug and then back at Andrew. There's really no way to try and hide or lie about it.

"Yessir."

"Why?"

Does he really want to know why? He's not sure.

Alec takes a deep breath, "Well, sir, there were these people over there, the lady with the purple hat and the man with the different colored socks and they were talking about France and the food that they ate over there and they mentioned snails and the guy thought they tasted good but the woman didn't and I was wondering what they tasted like but I couldn't find any snails but I did find some slugs."

And then he breathes again.

"And you thought it was somehow appropriate to eat snails out of the garden during a party, as opposed to waiting until we were in private and perhaps inquiring as to whether you might try some snails at a fancy restaurant someday? That request I could have accommodated. This..."

He shakes his head.

Alec blinks and frowns thoughtfully.

Obviously he must have thought it was a good idea or he wouldn't have done it, now would he? How could he answer this question?

"Is this a trick question, sir?"

"It's not a trick question, it's a request to rethink your previous reasoning and determine why it was poor."

Because eating snails at a garden party seemed like poor reasoning to him.

"Oh."

He thinks about it some more.

"I didn't know that was an option and I was bored, sir."

"In the future..."

He shakes his head. There won't be a future event like this, because he's going to make sure Alec never eats slugs again.

"If you have any... bizarre thing you want to try, consult me first."

"What's your definition of bizarre?" Clearly they have different definitions of things.

Andrew called this a party. Alec's definition of a party involved balloons, funny hats, cake and ice cream and presents. Also games. Like pin the tail on the donkey and a pinata.

"Is there going to be ice cream later?"

"Eating slugs off the ground certainly fits one of my definitions of bizarre."

At the question about the ice cream, he shook his head slowly, as if unable to believe Alec was even asking it. "If there were, you wouldn't be having any. But, as luck would have it, there isn't."

He thinks about this. "Should I have washed them first?"

Alec makes a face about the lack of ice cream comment. Not so much about the idea that he wasn't getting any (which stunk) but the fact that there wasn't any to be had at all.

"It's not a very good party."

"You shouldn't have eaten them at all. Eating things off the ground is disgusting. And the party is for adults. Of course you wouldn't enjoy it, but the least you could do would be behave."

Which meant being invisible, essentially.

Alec gives him an angry look. "I have been behaving! I've been quiet even though I'm bored and I've been very nice to everyone who's talked to me, including the creepy old lady who said I was the spitting image of you," he snaps.

His temper is near the fraying edge right now.

He's bored.

His feet hurt from the shoes.

He just got yelled at for keeping himself out of the way and entertained.

What is he supposed to be doing?

"Someone said you were the spitting image of me?"

Well, that's a diversion from his anger. Instead, he now clearly feels awkward.

"Yes, sir," Alec says jumping on this topic which is away from him getting yelled at. "But I don't know if she can see very well."

"Probably not."

He shot a dirty glance at the direction of the party, assuming the woman was over there somewhere.

"What did she look like?"

"The fat lady in the purple dress with little blue flowers. She's wearing a dark blue hat with lace and has really thick glasses," he says promptly.

"Oh, her."

His voice was dripping with condescension, but unfortunately she was the wife of a very wealthy business partner, and he couldn't say anything against her.

"Next time, kick her."

Alec looks conflicted now. Sure, he wants to do what Andrew tells him to do and he does want to kick the lady. She smelled like sick poodles and was one of the ones who pinched his cheeks.

However... "I think that might fall under not behaving, sir."

"I'd make a special exception for it."

A few moments later, he realizes that perhaps being sarcastic with a nine year old is a lost cause, and shakes his head. "Don't actually do it. But you're allowed to glare. In fact, I encourage it."

Give him a few more years and then he'll pick up sarcasm.

"I can glare," he agrees. "I think I'd rather avoid her though. She smells funny."

"I agree."

It's times like these he actually likes having a mouthy little kid around. Nobody can blame a child for being disarmingly honest.

Nope!

"How much longer are we going to be here?" he asks, still bored and tired.

"Another hour or two. Believe me, I'm bored too. Find something to do to entertain yourself."

If Alec were a couple years older, Andrew would offer him a drink. Hey, Andrew started drinking at twelve, and no harm was done. Debatably.

Insert groan here.

"How much are you paying me?" he asks.

Alec's already sampled some of the champagne when no one was looking. It's amazing how many adults don't notice nine year old boys.

"I'm not paying you anything, not after that display with the slugs."

He could probably be talked into paying something, but he wasn't going to let Alec know that.

"Ten dollars a half hour and I'll be quiet and out of the way. Fifteen and I'll pay attention to what the nice people are saying about you," Alec counters.

"Seven dollars for half an hour, and I don't care if you listen to what the 'nice' people are saying about me," Andrew countered back.

"So you don't care that senator is talking to Mr. Lodes about not offering the contract to you and instead offering it to the government?"

"I hate the senator, and would desperately hope for him to burn in hell, should such a place exist."

Violence and anti-religious sentiments! He raises his child so well, doesn't he?

Yes. Yes he does. Of course, it must be remembered that Alec isn't Andrew's child.

Still, he's doing an excellent job.

"So is that a yes on the listening to people?"

"Go ahead. And don't get caught."

He figures Alec is sneaky enough to manage that.

He doesn't move. "Fifteen, right?"

"Ten."

He's always trying to haggle.

He is. Why is he trying to haggle?

And perhaps more importantly, why does he always lose to a nine year old?

Alec just stares at him.

He shakes his head, looking frustrated.

"Twelve, then."

"Thirteen."

"Twelve and a half."

He thinks about this for a moment. "Twelve and a half and a bonus if I get something really good."

He sighs. "Fine, but only if you get something really good."

"Deal." And he holds up his hand for a shake.

He shakes Alec's hand grudgingly, shaking his head all the while. "Go on, then. Get to work."

"Yes, sir," Alec says and then wanders off towards the food table where people are always talking.

Plus there were those little fish egg things.

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