[He'll make pancakes. The thin, crispy kind one finds in Italy, since he considers them far superior to the pancakes commonly served in England. It only takes ten, perhaps fifteen minutes for him to whip a few up, so Alucard won't be waiting long. He puts the kettle on while preparing the batter and glances periodically at his host. There's silence between them, at the moment... but it's not a tense sort of silence, really. Just solemn.

He makes six pancakes in total; three for him, and three for Alucard, and carries the plates over to the coffee table along with two coffees and necessary cutlery. Before seating himself next to Alucard, he gently removes Baskerville and replaces him with a plate of pink pancakes.]

These were a common request at the orphanage. Apparently I'm the only one who could make them just right. I suspect it had something to do with me being more liberal with the chocolate drizzle.

[Alucard's chocolate, of course, has blood mixed into it.]