Disclaimer: Nope, still don't any of it..*ignores Philippe, who is handcuffed to Raikune's left wrist and is trying to get away* Haven't stolen any characters, nuh uh, not me…

***

"You bloody fop."

Raoul froze in the act of pawing through the velvet curtains of Box 5 and stared, horrified, at the phantom-figure of Erik standing in the entrance. He tried to make light of the situation, smiling cheerfully at the overturned chairs.

"Ah, yes, well, Christine's a better gift-hider then I thought…still, messiness is a sign of creativity, right?"

A whistling noise and something tightened around the Vicomte's neck. Raoul gagged as he was roped in like a bull. He cringed as he gazed into the yellow eyes.

"You ruined. My Box. You. Prancing. FOP!!"

Philippe heard this last bellowed word and sped up his pace. He appeared just in time to see Erik strangling Raoul with his Punjab lasso. Without any thought for his own safety he decided to intervene. This was not a good idea. When Christine arrived a few breathless moments later, all three men were rolling on the floor, knocking into things such as the chairs, curtains, walls, etc. Erik seemed to be trying to murder Raoul, Philippe trying to prevent him, and Raoul alternately scrabbling at Erik's mask and the lasso. Christine cocked her head to one side: hmm, three attractive men fighting on the floor, getting all dishevelled and sweaty, two of whom loved her…not bad. She pursed her lips and hid a smile. Not bad at all.

"Oh, boys?" she called out sweetly, "Boys?"

They stopped tussling and stared at her. Christine side-stepped around them and picked up a gift box from inside the small shelf in front. "The present's here." She waved it in front of their faces.

All three got up slowly, Raoul massaging his neck with Philippe's hand on his shoulder. Trying to appear dignified, Erik adjusted his mask and cape, shooting a dark look to the Vicomte. "How could you not look there first, you prat?" Raoul shrugged and grinned in spite of the fact he narrowly escaped strangulation. "Can I open it now?"

"It's your birthday."

Raoul began to tear away the wrapping but Philippe stopped him. "Manners, brother. One always opens the card first." He pointed.

"Of course!" He opened the envelope and let out a squeal. "It has a puppy on the front! How cute! Look, Philippe!"

"I see it, I see it…" Erik rolled his eyes and left the trio, instead beginning to clean up his Box. Raoul ignored him, removed the wrapping and…

…let out a squeal higher then the first one so it sounded suspiciously girl-like, and making all present wince and silently thank God that Raoul wasn't an opera singer.

"A teddy bear! Wearing a sailor's uniform! Philippe, feel how fuzzy it is!" He shoved in his brother's face.

"Very nice, Raoul." Philippe petted it to humor him.

"I suppose Christine chose it because it's just like me," Raoul sighed, his blue eyes misting, "Cute, warm-hearted, a sailor, fuzzy…" Philippe blinked.

"Soft-headed, spineless, weak, IQ of stuffing…" Erik mumbled. He winced as Christine stepped on his foot.

"A toast to us Chagnys!" Raoul cried, not hearing him, "Firmin and Andre have some champagne in their office, I stole some the last time I was here and blamed it on the Phantom…" Erik spluttered incoherently and Philippe moved to intervene, saying hastily, "An excellent idea, Raoul. After all they cannot afford to say no, not after our last donation of a considerable sum. I think it's high time they said thank you."

***

Philippe knocked on the managers' office door. Silence. He frowned and knocked again. "Are they in today?"

"Of course they are," Christine said airily, "they're trying to hide from Madame Giry. She accosts them in the corridor every time they step out, warning them of Erik." She giggled.

Philippe knocked again. An irritated voice shouted, "If that's you, Vicomte, with all due respect I haven't got your hairbrush or your nail file so kindly leave!"

Pause. A second voice added, "And if you're Mm. Giry we are very aware of the presence of the Opera Ghost, thank you very much, we don't need any more reminders –"

"Pardon," Philippe called, "but it is only I, Comte Philippe de Chagny and my brother, accompanied by little Ms. Daaé –" He glanced around, surprised. Erik had vanished. "- and, ah, I was wondering if you would share a drink with us…"

Sounds of a lock being undone. The door opened a crack and Firmin peered at them. "Ah, my dear Comte, do come in…all of you come, quick." He ushered them in, glanced up and down the corridor, then slammed the door.

"Thank God it's only you three," Firmin muttered, wiping his brow, "we've had nothing but complaints all day long from almost the entire staff of the Opera house- all about that blasted Ghost. Some of the tenors reckon he's stealing toilet paper, La Carlotta claims one of her prize dresses has been stolen –" here Raoul began to whistle while looking at the ceiling, "- and they all crowd in here shouting and it's only now we've got rid of them!"

"A drink," André mumbled, "that's what we all need- a drink."

"You've read my mind," Philippe replied, smiling, "We actually stopped by here for some celebratory champagne…"

"Ah, of course! Our best wishes on this special occasion…" He shook Philippe's hand vigorously. Firmin popped the cork and poured the bubbling liquid into five flute glasses he'd gotten from the cupboard.

"A toast, then," he declared, "To our finest patrons of the Opera House, the Chagnys, one of France's oldest and most respected noble families!"

"Hear, hear!" Christine added, clinking her glass with Raoul. They had no sooner downed their first glass when there was a brisk knocking at the door. André set his teeth. "What!" he barked.

"Lachenel, sir, the stud-groom," came a stiff voice. "There's a problem."

"What? With the horses?"

Pause. "No…I mean to say, not exactly. It's better if I come in, I think."

"Oh, very well," Firmin said disgustedly, and he opened the door. Lachenel strode in, carrying his riding-whip. He tipped his head at the Comte and Vicomte, then turned to face the managers. Something strange was going on with his face. On closer inspection he appeared to be trying not too laugh, and Lachenel was usually a dry and sarcastic man.

"Perhaps, M. Firmin, M. André," he said delicately, "it would be better if you sent your guests away…as this concerns both of you on a rather personal level." And he smacked his right boot with his riding-whip, as if emphasising the point.

"Nonsense, man. If there's something we should know about, say it. No beating around the bush."

The stud-groom paused. "I don't think –"

"We don't pay you to think, we pay you to manage the stables," Firmin snapped, "Say what it is and then leave, and we'll deal with it later."

"Very well." Lachenel flicked his whip. "Two photographs were found by one of my stablemen. One shows both of you naked wearing party-hats next to César, who is wearing socks. The other shows you both naked riding him around, except that César is wearing a party-hat as well…" He thought for a minute, then added drily, "To judge from the photographs, both of you seem to be enjoying it immensely." With a final flourish, he withdrew from behind his back two black-and-white photos and scattered them on the managers' desk. Firmin snatched them and held them trembling in his hands, his face getting redder and redder.

"When did you find these?" André said weakly.

"Just now."

"Who…who took…"

"I think that's quite obvious." Lachenel jabbed the photos with his whip. "See those initials on the bottom?"

"O..G.," Firmin ground out, beginning to foam at the mouth.

"May I ask how drunk you where when these were taken, gentlemen?"

"No, you may not!" Firmin roared, clawing at the photos in his hands, "and you'll keep quiet about this, and so will your staff, or by God I'll have the entire stable sacked!"

Lachenel dipped his head again, and smacked his boot with his whip.

"But this was months ago," André hissed to Firmin, "Perhaps the stableman only chose to disclose these now…if this gets out in Paris newspapers our careers are finished…"

"Show us the man who found these," Firmin commanded Lachenel, having reduced the photos to little pieces, "and we'll soon sort this out!" He turned to Philippe and the others. "Excuse us, won't you?"

"Of course," Philippe replied courteously. He was too polite too further embarrass the managers and he stood aside as both hurried out, with Lachenel in the lead. Once their footsteps faded everyone turned and looked at each other. Raoul wrinkled his nose. "Why was the horse wearing socks?" No one answered him.

"More champagne, I think," Philippe said mildly, breaking the silence. He lifted the bottle. "Please," Christine added, shuddering. She held out her glass. "I need to get those images out of my head." She sipped hers delicately. "I don't think I'll be able to sing after this."

"Have no fear, angel," came a new voice, "I am here."

Erik strode in and helped himself to us a glass. He swilled the champagne around in his mouth and swallowed. "Not bad," he proclaimed, "for two men of their salary…"

"Where were you?" Christine asked. Erik smiled at her and pinged the flute glass. "Oh, just getting rid of those two idiots so I could have some of their champagne. Excellent photographs, don't you think? I'll use the extras for blackmail in the future." He gave an evil laugh.

Raoul blinked. "You've made copies?"

"Naturally, you twit…" His eyes lit up. "Oh, and Raoul," he added sleekly, "Philippe mentioned to me that someone gave you chocolates for your birthday…"

Raoul beamed. "They're in my jacket. I decided to carry them everywhere in case I get lost in a desert with no food or water!"

"How admirable. As we're having champagne, why don't you have one?"

"Good idea," Philippe added hastily and Erik's smile broadened. Raoul shrugged and laid the small box on the managers' desk and opened it. Inside a dozen chocolates lay gleaming, some covered with swirls and others with nuts. The Vicomte picked one up. "Does anyone else want one?"

"No!" Erik and Philippe and Christine shouted at the same time. Philippe corrected himself. "I mean…they're yours, so why not enjoy them all?"

Raoul grinned. "Ok!"

All eyes watched him as he put the chocolate in his mouth. He chewed…swallowed…smiled. "These are really nice!"

And with the same smile fixed on his face, he crashed to the floor.

"Did I say sedatives?" Erik said innocently. "I meant heavy-dose tranquilizers."

Philippe rushed to his brother's aid, horrified. He saw that Raoul was only unconscious, and breathed a sigh of relief. Christine however, was not pleased. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him!" she shouted, swiping at her tutor. Erik dodged behind the manager's desk, laughing. "He isn't hurt! Besides, my good friend the Daroga concocted those up…the Persians were master poisoners, you see –"

"YOU WHAT?" Philippe shouted, "ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU'VE POISONED MY ONLY BROTHER?!"

"No, but I was considering it –" He ducked a blow from Christine. "None of them are harmful! At least, that's what Daroga said. Actually, I'm not quite sure what he put into half of them, but he did say some were tranquilizers." He started laughing again.

The sound of Erik's laughter woke Raoul. The Vicomte blinked at his brother, then, as his eyes readjusted, they focused on Erik as the source of laughter. Only it was not Erik that Raoul saw.

"Mr. Teddy?" he murmured dazedly, "Is that you?" Erik saw Raoul looking at him and his laughter died on his lips. Raoul got unsteadily to his feet and gave the Phantom a dopey smile, a crazed glint in his eye.

"Mr. Teddy!" He opened his arms. "I want to hug and kiss you!" He started to walk forward, and Erik's yellow eyes widened in horror. Before anyone could stop him, he rushed forward, grabbed Erik and kissed him full on the lips…

***

HAHAHA! This is so my best chapter yet! *pumps fist into air* Gasp! What will happen next? There are so many questions: Is poor Erik doomed to be glomped to death by our drugged-up fop? What exactly do the other chocolates do? Why are Firmin and André such idiots? Why is Raoul such a fop anyway? Sorry, that last one can't be answered.

I'll update this as soon as I can. Reviewers can check out my author page for news on exact dates if they want. Now click that li'l review button! ^_^