Author's Note: It's a long chapter, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. And, I repeat, if you don't cater towards slash, you'd be better off hitting the back button, as things start to heat up here.

Erik had been watching Asad wander around the fifth cellar for some time now, still torn between amusement and aggravation. He had made his way over to that spot as soon as his old friend had tripped the alarm in the fourth cellar, giving him enough time to hide. The poor man hadn't even noticed him standing there, concealed in the shadows just beyond the lamplight. Funny, Erik thought. If there was ever anyone good at sensing my presence, it was him.

The befuddled man at first eagerly explored the pits of the building, only to slowly grow more weary and confused with his quest. To Erik, his Daroga had seemed so sure of finding something (and he could guess what), only to be sorely disappointed. There was almost something endearing about the look of dissatisfaction that twisted his tired face. It had been so long that Erik had had the joy of besting Asad yet again … the returning nostalgia was very comforting. Perhaps he was still as sly as he was back in his heyday in Persia. Perhaps.

There was also something very strange running through Erik's head as Asad made his way around. Even though he had known that Asad was on his scent for the past four months, this was perhaps the closest Erik had stood near him in that time. This idea made him quiver with some unknown feeling. It wasn't nostalgia, certainly. Nostalgia made one feel slightly sad, and that was the last thing Erik felt right now. He was feeling rather excited at this prospect. As annoyed as he was, Asad was always the only one that Erik had ever felt he had made a true connection with. He was someone that he used to be able to talk to and joke with … Just when Erik had sworn that he was above the need for such things, he began to feel like a faithful dog does after its master returns from a long trip.

It was only when Asad began shining his lantern on the lake that Erik began to feel violent. The wharf where his boat had been tied was just out of sight of the lamp, and it made him uneasy. Asad made connections rather quickly in that clever brain of his. Before long, he would be practically knocking on Erik's door if he let him keep this up. He had his lasso with him, but surely he wasn't going to be so rash as to kill the man. No … for now, an unsubtle warning would have to do.

Asad was slowly walking along the banks of the lake, contemplating if he should try his luck by jumping in the waters. However, he had no idea as to how deep it was, and the smell of the water certainly wasn't encouraging. He crouched down, his eyes scanning the murky liquid as if to find some sort of sign. He was so distracted by this mindless task that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt two hands seize him by the shoulders. His foot accidentally kicked the lantern and sent it toppling into the lake. With unnatural power, his thin body was whirled around and slammed against a stone column. Asad didn't even have time to cry out in pain, for his eyes became fixed to what looked like two coals burning into him.

"Hello, Daroga," he heard a voice purr in Arabic. That voice! It still could inspire fear and delight in him at the same time. Even if he hadn't seen his eyes, Asad would have been able to know that he was face-to-face with Erik just by the sound of him talking. "Might I ask what in the name of hell you are doing down here?" The voice was now tinged with barely controlled rage, and the hands on his shoulders pushed down slightly harder. But still, Asad managed a weak grin.

"Hello, Erik," he answered in French, as amicably as he could manage. "I was positive I would find you here, old friend."

This slightly friendly response was enough to make Erik step back and place his hands at his sides. As Asad's eyes struggled to adjust to the lack of lighting, he could see that Erik looked positively flummoxed by his unexpected response. There was a look in his blazing eyes that seemed to say do you remember just who you are dealing with? Either you've gone completely insane, or you're a lot slower than I remembered. If there was one thing that could throw Erik off, it was hospitality. It was sad for Asad to think that it was such a foreign concept to Erik, but nevertheless, it worked.

For a long time, there was no talking. Just the two of them staring at each other, measuring up the change that had occurred in each of them over the time they had spent apart. Asad noticed that Erik's mouth, the only thing not covered by his black mask, was twitching uncomfortably, as if looking for something to say.

"Your French has improved," Erik finally muttered blankly in his native tongue.

It was now Asad's turn to feel confused. If there was one response he was expecting from this man, it certainly wasn't a comment on his progress in a foreign language. Still, it was better than what he was expecting…. A death threat and a thump on the head that would knock him out cold and leave his head throbbing for days.

"I can't say the same for your Arabic," answered Asad, grinning apologetically. To this, Erik said nothing. He still continued to stare, completely distracted by his Daroga's friendly nature. He turned his back, expecting to see the Persian chap make a run for it. He didn't. Asad stood there, adjusting his astrakhan cap and smiling gently. It was all too much for Erik, the notion that they could still chatter like old friends after the time they had spent apart…. After all they had been through together so long ago. He turned swiftly on his heels.

"What do you want?" Erik cried out suddenly, startling Asad. It wasn't so much the randomness of the outbreak, nor the volume of it, but the fright that was in those words that made his knees slightly shake.

"Nothing," he answered gently, trying to stand as tall as he possibly could. Erik shot him a look of complete disbelief. "Well … a few explanations, maybe." Asad heard Erik make a sound of complete irritation.

"You expect me to be candid with you when I scarcely know you anymore?"

"I haven't really changed, Erik. I'm just older and perhaps my sight's getting worse, but that's it," Asad replied quietly. He looked at Erik, who was now running one hand through his thinning, dark hair. The other one was firmly clutching his hat. He was quiet for a few moments, and then he let out a wistful sigh.

"No, you haven't changed, have you?" Erik said sadly. "You're still following me around like you're my second shadow." More silence. Erik seemed to regain control of himself, as his anger seemed to be returning. "Pray tell, Daroga, how did you manage to sniff me out?" The gentle tone of mock curiosity and suppressed rage made Asad feel that whether or not he divulged that information to Erik, he was still going to wind up in a dangerous position. He didn't answer at first, biting his lip until it was raw instead. Erik leaned in on him, his eyes looking into his own as if peeking into his very soul. "Tell me."

Asad swallowed and looked down at his feet. "Most of it was really intuition and inkling, really. I knew you would return to France. You always seemed to find the ways we worked back home inferior to yours. It made you homesick, I think." If he could have seen Erik's face, Asad was sure he would have been furrowing his eyebrows. "That was the first clue. It wasn't until after many years that that I acted upon that hunch and took the initiative to follow you."

Erik suddenly burst out into peels of bitter laughter. "Follow me? Good heavens, what would compel you to do something so incredibly stupid?"

Asad took a few moments to answer this question, ignoring Erik's berating. Certainly he cared about Erik and about putting his genius to good use. And he did enjoy his company, when he wasn't risking he and Asad's lives. But how does one say that without sounding as stupid as Erik was now pondering him to be?

"I wanted to make sure you kept to your promise," he finally answered. So it's not the whole truth…. But it is a part of it.

Erik laughed again. "Dear Daroga, what a waste of time you've invested into this duck hunt of yours. I can assure that I haven't done any reckless killing--" Asad shuddered, and Erik gave him a hostile look. "I've had my reasons. Do you doubt that?"

"Self-defense…?" Asad asked slowly.

"Yes, self-defense…" Erik replied with a sigh. There was something about his tone that Asad didn't buy. He didn't reply, and the air was silent again.

"An opera ghost. Really …" Asad murmured suddenly, sounding more disappointed than Erik had ever heard him to be.

"I have to make a living some way, Daroga," answered Erik quietly, putting his hat back on and slouching against the stone column next to Asad. He rarely ever slouched … there was something about that position that made him looked like an ashamed little boy. Erik cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and tried to change the subject. "So, continue with your clever tale on how you found me. Really, I love being made to look like an amateur from time to time."

Asad continued to look at his feet, ignoring Erik. "Opera ghost …I don't believe it. I've suspected that you were behind this all along, but now that I've had to face reality…. The idea is more painful than I thought."

At this, Erik suddenly flew into a rage and pinned Asad back against the column. "What did you expect me to do? Sell out concert halls? God damn it, Asad, you know full well that trying to assimilate into society is beyond what I'm capable of! Are you that fucking idiotic?!" Asad held his breath upon hearing Erik swearing…. His choice in words was always that of a gentleman's. It was a sure sign that he was completely irate when he started to fly off the handle and swear like a sailor. He glanced over at the man, who was now clutching his sides, rambling darkly under his breath. Asad approached him slowly, feeling as if he was some sort of dolt intent on trying to calm a rabid animal.

"Erik…" He was accosted rather quickly by the ranting shadow, pinned down again for the third time tonight.

"Leave, Daroga," he hissed. "If I find you down here again, I can't promise that you'll come out alive."

"You're bluffing."

Erik blinked at Asad's audacity to challenge him. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"You wouldn't hurt me…." Asad's throat seemed to be going dry, and his heart felt about ready to explode.

"Oh, really, Daroga," asked Erik, the sarcasm in his voice positively dripping. "And what makes you think that I won't murder your sorry self here on the spot? Love?" That last word was said with such acidity that it could had dissolved bricks.

If Asad weren't so frightened, he would have laughed out loud. This whole time he had been letting Erik get away with insulting him. He had a snide response waiting right on the tip of his tongue, and he wasn't going to stand for being belittled anymore.

"No. You're incapable of love." Asad immediately regretted his words. Maybe he was as stupid as Erik said he was to say something so cruel to a person driven mad with anger. Erik's eyes were flashing dangerously, his shoulders rising as he breathed deeply. Asad tried to quickly recover. "You won't kill me because you feel indebted to me. And if there is one thing I know you won't do is kill someone to get out of a bargain. That's a cheat's way out."

Erik seemed to have ignored Asad when he started to speak again. "Incapable of love …"

"In all honesty," Asad fumbled, "I … I didn't mean to say that."

"Incapable of love, Daroga?" His voice was growing even more and more enraged.

"What I meant was-"

Erik cut him off. "You find me so much of a monster?"

"No – It was an accident. I didn't mean it." Asad's voice was becoming high pitched and his words were coming out jarringly quickly. His eyes were locked onto Erik's, which were a hurricane of anger, sadness, and … something unnamable. He was sure that Erik was going to kill him right on the spot.

But Erik didn't.

Instead, he kissed him.