A/N: How could I leave Nadir out of the story, huh? (Grins) I can't say he'll be in the story a LOT, but I just HAD to mention him!

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Chapter 18: A fun rainy day

Madeline looked at Fleur as she stood on a chair beside her, so that she could help make breakfast. The height of her beautiful little girls was one thing that having good healthy meals every night had yet to fix. Oh, they'd grown an inch or two, but it was slow in happening. At her age, Fleur should have been able to stand at her side and simply get onto her tiptoes to help cook. Still, none of it really mattered. She was healthy, and seemed very happy.

"Don't you dare" Madeline scolded as Fleur put her finger into the batter of muffin mix that she'd been whipping, and sucked it from her finger. "If you do that again, you won't get to have them when they're finished."

Fleur looked up at her with a smile, then touched her pointer finger to her thumb, her other three fingers up and splayed.

"How can you like it?" Madeline retorted, laughing. "It isn't even cooked yet!"

Fleur shrugged, hopped down from the chair, and then moved towards the kitchen door.

Marguerite was awake, as she'd just come downstairs momentarily wearing her long white night gown, her black hair loose and in snarls. Madeline had sent her back upstairs to get dressed, and since then they'd heard her banging about in her room, still trying to wake, as she got dressed.

Erik himself was apparently still in bed. It was the first Saturday he'd not had to appear at the Opera House since he'd been employed, and was taking advantage of the time he was able to sleep. Madeline didn't blame him. He worked himself ragged, and had warned Marguerite to let him sleep. That, of course, didn't stop her from making so much noise in the room beside his that he might be awakened by it.

Gerard was at the table, talking to himself noisily, and eating the oatmeal she'd made for his breakfast. He could have had muffins and eggs and pancakes with the rest of the family, but he didn't seem to like solid food a great deal. He always preferred soup or broth over any other meal. It seemed odd to Madeline, but if that was what he wanted then so be it.

A door creaked open to the room above her on the second floor, and she glanced upwards. That was more than likely Erik's door. It was so close to Marguerite's it was usually hard to tell. Yet the lack of footsteps before the creak of the door opening told her it had to be Erik, who was capable of walking as silently as a panther. She kept watching the ceiling, wondering for a moment if she was right in her assumption. Only a moment later she was answered when Marguerite screamed, and then began to squeal with laughter, followed by Erik's enthusiastic and energetic exclamations.

"Breakfast is almost ready!" She called, managing to make her voice bellow. Reaching up, she took care of an itch behind her ear, and then glanced at her reflection in the window over the sink. It was still raining from the night before, and the sky was nearly black despite the late hour. It allowed her to see herself quite easily. Her dark hair was mussed, although she'd combed it that morning, and pinned it atop her head. She looked scraggly. There was a bit of flour on her right cheek, which she quickly wiped off.

"Coming Mama!" Marguerite called from the top of the stairs, her voice echoing back into the kitchen.

"That's what you think, Mademoiselle!" Erik's voice boomed after hers in mock severity, and there was an abrupt THUMP from somewhere by the top of the stairs. Marguerite had dissolved to giggles again, laughing as though she couldn't stop herself no matter how hard she tried.

Madeline chuckled, shaking her head as she turned to take care of the pancakes, which were nearly burned. She piled them onto a plate quite a bit larger than was usual, and brought it quickly over to the table. The muffins Fleur had helped her mix were now cooking in the oven, and would be ready for lunch. It was a favorite part of the meal in the middle of the few days they shared together, although she didn't know why.

"Erik, are you killing my daughter up there?" She called, moving down the hallway as she wiped her hands on her apron. She stood at the bottom of the stairs to see Marguerite's little feet dangling over the top step, donned in black velvet shoes. "You know that you aren't allowed to do that in the house!"

Erik laughed, and appeared over the edge of the stairs, smiling down at her, his face a bit flushed. In his arms was an even redder Marguerite, still giggling. Erik had both of his hands in the shape of claws, and was 'tearing' at her belly and chest.

"Does that include tickling to death?" He asked, finally slowing down to let her stand up. Marguerite put her arms about him, hugging him excitedly, and he smiled, rubbing her back while she calmed down. Madeline nodded to him in mock severity, and he made a playful face. "Oh, well, you certainly aren't any fun."

"Hungry?" She asked, ignoring him. Erik stood, wearing a red silk shirt with billowy sleeves, and snug black pants with high-topped shoes.

"Always." He replied jovially, picking Marguerite up and carrying her down the stairs. "Here, I have a present for you." He deposited Marguerite into Madeline's arms, and then continued past her. "Where's Fleur?"

"I believe she's in the parlor." Madeline said, chuckling as she let Marguerite drop to her feet on the floor, wearing a lovely powder blue dress. "She's been tinkering on that piano with every chance she gets."

Erik stopped; looking back at her with somewhat startled eyes.

"Has she?" He asked. "Maybe I should give her lessons."

"I think she'd like that."

He nodded with a smile, and moved towards the parlor, opening the door a crack to see that Fleur was, indeed, trying to play a few melodies on the brand new grand piano he'd recently acquired. She was actually succeeding in making a few very melodic phrases and beautiful chords. Trying not to be noticed, he stepped into the room. Yet Fleur was very alert, and she looked up immediately, her hands jerking away from the keys. She stood and looked down as though she'd been caught doing something bad.

"Oh, it's all right, Cherie." He said gently, moving across the room to her. Reaching out, he touched her shoulder. "Come on. It's okay. You're welcome to play anytime that you wish."

She smiled up at him, and then took his hand between her own, kissing his knuckles like she'd seen him do to other ladies numerous times. Other ladies, of course, consisted only of Christine and Isabelle. Smiling, Erik leaned down to kiss her forehead, cupping the back of her head in his palm while he did so.

"Shall we go to breakfast, ma petite beauty?"

Fleur smiled up at him brightly, and nodded, letting him hold onto her hand as they moved together along the carpeted floor, and out into the hallway. When she smelled the pancakes and sausage that her mother was just then placing on the table, her steps quickened. Erik peered inward curiously to see what else their meal consisted of. Tea, juice, milk, pancakes, sausage, and even scrambled eggs occupied the medium sized table, along with five place settings - one that was already taken up by Gerard and his second bowl of oatmeal.

He looked up with sharp blue eyes - which Madeline had explained had been the color of his fathers eyes - somewhat covered by a mop of strawberry- blonde curls. Again, that was a trait that he'd gotten from his father. Smiling, he reached up in a wave towards Erik.

"Papa!" He greeted happily, and motioned wildly to the place setting at his side. He was just beginning to form his own bond with Erik, and had taken to calling him the same name that Marguerite called him. He didn't seem to exactly realize at his age that Papa was a title, rather name a name, but what did it matter? Erik wanted to be a father to him.

"All right. Le petite." He said with a smile, moving around the chairs that Marguerite and Fleur occupied, sitting beside the tot amiably. Gerard bounced in his chair happily, and then went back to eating his oatmeal in contentment. The boy wasn't much for many words. He seemed to be learning speech slower than most children, but he understood all words almost perfectly.

The meal went by as most of them did. Erik and Madeline said very little to one another. They didn't really need words as their one connection was the children, and the children did a great deal of the talking for them. All it took for Erik and Madeline was a single look. The children occupied the time asking questions and telling stories the best they could of things that had happened most recently to them.

Marguerite told her mother about the 'funny looking' man who had visited Erik in the dressing room the previous night, and of course Erik had needed to explain to her that Nadir was from another country, and that was why he looked so different. He also had to explain to Madeline that Nadir was a friend who went way back with him, though of course couldn't say how far back. He then mentioned that Nadir could possibly be stopping by that day, and Madeline accepted it all without more than a nod.

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"Papa, Fleur is trying to tell you something!" Erik turned around, still holding a dish in one hand as he dried it for Madeline. He tried to help out with the chores whenever he could, so he wouldn't seem like the typical 'man'. He didn't like the image of the tyrannical man one bit, and wasn't about to become one of them.

Looking down, he noticed that Marguerite and Fleur stood in front of him, one in a green dress, and one in blue. The one in green had her hands in front of her at about chest height, close to her body, and was waggling them wildly. Almost as though she were drumming them against a table.

"Piano?" He asked softly. "You want me to teach you now?"

Fleur nodded, smiling with pleasure that he'd understood a sign she was using for the very first time. Erik glanced behind him towards the sink, seeing that Madeline was almost totally through with the dishes.

"Well; I suppose it couldn't hurt." He smiled down to her gently. "All right, your mother can finish up here, I think." Putting away the dish he had just been drying, he led Fleur by the hand towards the parlor. He'd just opened the door when a knock came from the front of the house.

"Erik - could you get that please?" Madeline called from the kitchen, and he sighed.

"Just a moment, Fleur. All right?" She nodded patiently, and he went to open the front door, almost forgetting to unlock it first. He still wasn't used to having to lock his front door.

"Good morning, Erik."

Nadir stood outside, an umbrella over his head, wearing some old clothes that he recognized from their days together in Persia. He looked tired, and worn, but was in much better shape than he'd been in the night before. Then again, he'd still been in great shock the night before. Erik nodded to him, and backed into the house.

"Come in, Nadir." He said politely. "I'm glad you're here, but Fleur isn't going to be pleased. I was just about to give her her very first piano lesson."

"Fleur?" Nadir replied curiously, looking about. His eyes caught glimpse of the mute twin as she peeked at him from around the door of the parlor. "Oh . . . is that what her name is then?"

"She's the twin sister of the girl you met last night." He explained. "Her name is Marguerite. Fleur cannot speak, and she's quite a bit shyer. Come on out, ma Cherie. He isn't going to hurt you. I told you at breakfast. Nadir is a very old friend of mine."

"You enjoy that term now that you look that age, don't you?" Nadir chuckled. "Hello, Fleur. I'm very happy to meet you." He bowed to the little one politely, able to tell that she had grown used to such treatment since meeting Erik. She smiled, blushed, and then hid in the parlor again. Nadir stood, and turned to Erik. "So when are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I don't know exactly what happened myself." Erik said in a low whisper. "They have no idea, Nadir. I'd rather not speak of it when I'm with them. It might disturb them."

"Of course." Nadir said with a knowing smile. His eyes traveled over Erik's shoulder, and Erik turned slowly to see Madeline standing with Marguerite and Gerard at her sides.

"This is my family, Nadir." Erik introduced softly. "Well . . . more or less. As you can see, Marguerite is Fleur's twin sister. Gerard is their little brother, and Madeline is their mother. This is my friend Nadir."

"Hello." Marguerite said, quite obviously remembering him from the night before. Gerard sort of just looked at him in confusion, and Madeline stepped forward to shake his hand.

"It's good to meet you, Monsieur." She greeted. "I've met no one from Erik's past before. Well . . . except for Mademoiselle Daaé. I understand that they knew each other before I met him. The only other person I know of as Erik's friend is Mademoiselle Develõngê."

"Who?" Nadir looked at Erik quizzically. Laughing, Erik shook his head.

"A young lady I was asked to give lessons to." He explained. "A girl I've grown quite fond of."

"A woman who is very, very fond of our dear Erik." Madeline insisted. "I'm sure he'll tell you the whole story at some point. The girl threw herself at him from what I understand."

"Oh, Madeline! Really!" Erik scolded, laughing. "Come, Nadir. We'll sit in the parlor. I'm sure that Madeline would be kind enough to make you some tea?" He looked to Madeline questioningly. It was very obviously a request, certainly not anything she would be expected to do if she didn't so wish.

"Yes, of course." She agreed, and returned to the kitchen with Gerard. Marguerite, on the other hand, came up to Erik and put her arms around him. Her head was just above his elbow now. She'd grown more than Fleur had in the past months.

"I remember you." She said pointedly to Nadir. "I saw you last night."

"Yes, you did." Nadir agreed. "How are you, Mademoiselle?"

"I'd be better if Erik didn't have to see Isabelle anymore." She stated.

Erik frowned.

"I thought we'd settled that." He murmured softly, looking up to Nadir. He said in a very quiet voice, which only Nadir might hear: "She has a crush on me and is jealous of my lady friend."

"Ah, I see." Nadir said, nodding. They moved quietly into the parlor together, Marguerite clinging to Erik's side, and Fleur again tinkering at the piano.

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"You seriously don't know how it actually happened?" Nadir stared at Erik in amazement. Now that Marguerite and Fleur were in the kitchen helping Madeline prepare supper for the six of them, Erik had been given the chance to tell his friend about his odd transformation.

"I'm a genius of the illusion of magic, Nadir, not of magic itself." He replied. "I understand the theories of it, but I can't think of how this might have happened. The faire tales don't exactly tell you HOW the magic turned the frog into a prince. It just says that it does."

Nadir shook his head, dumbfounded.

"You and Christine must be friends now?" He asked, making Nadir laugh. "What about Raoul?"

"I can tolerate him." Erik chuckled. "He's still a foolish boy, but I cannot help it anymore than he can. She asked me to give her away at their wedding."

"Will you?"

"I'll do anything that Christine asks of me. It will be an honor to give her away."

Nadir looked down at the tea, which had grown cool in its cup. He'd had so much today while they simply sat and talked that he was rather sick of the taste.

"Tell me about Isabelle." He finally entreated.

"She's very bold, upfront, and beautiful." Erik said simply. "She has an extremely pleasing singing voice, and affectionate and flirtatious nature. A few days ago she attempted to seduce me. That's when I realized that she's loved me for quite some time, and I finally let myself realize that I love her too. She failed in seducing me, but only because I refused to dishonor her."

"She's an upper-class woman, isn't she?" Nadir asked quietly. "I can't imagine a lower-class or middle-class woman having voice lessons by a private coach very easily."

"Her parents are larger patrons of the opera than Raoul." Erik stated. "She's also engaged . . . which of course causes a large dilemma. We'll solve it on our own, eventually. Even if she must marry this man, at least she'll know I loved her."

"At least." Nadir was staring at him oddly now. Suspiciously. "You mean you'd give her up so easily?"

"Oh, Hell no!" Erik defended himself immediately. "Not without one devil of a fight! I simply will not be dishonorable. If her parents will not let us court and marry, and she doesn't wish to risk going against their wishes, then so be it. Yet if perhaps there's a chance she loves me enough to ignore their wishes, then I will do everything in my power to keep her."

"You're learning." Nadir chuckled. "Didn't I tell you that you were a real man?"

"Oh, don't be sentimental, you old fool." Erik laughed, shaking his head. "Come now. I'm going to see if I can help them in the kitchen. You're welcome to continue these conversations with me in there." He stood up and walked out of the room without waiting for a reply.