Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine...no, none of it(except the plot, of course)...seriously, I DON'T OWN IT!

Chapter 6

"Drink With Me..."

Erik arrived early to Christine's dressing room that evening, but Christine was nowhere to be found. He raised an eyebrow. "Christine?"

There was no answer.

Sighing, he sat down in one of the two chairs at the table and set the bottle of Vodka down onto it. He glanced at the clock on the wall, drumming his fingers on the table. He was alone for only a few minutes before the fun started.

Raoul knocked on the door, sending Erik bolting to his feet.

"Christine?" The Vicomte asked from outside of the door. "Christine?" He opened the door.

Erik stared at him, surprised.

Raoul dropped the bottle of expensive champagne he carried without seeming to notice in his shock.

"Good evening, monsieur Vicomte." Erik greeted him cooly after a few moments of stunned silence.

"I don't think so." Raoul found his voice, "Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"That's a lie."

"Oh yes," Erik's voice dripped with sarcasm, "It's a lie. You see I'm just so fond of your company, monsieur, that I decided to wait here for you to come. I missed you, why don't you write?"

"This must be a trick."

"Probably. But of her design, not mine."

"Why should I believe you?"

Erik shrugged. "Then you explain it." He glanced down, "I'd step out of that champagne puddle if I were you, it may soak through and rot the expensive leather on your shoes."

Raoul looked down and hastily stepped out of it. When he realized he had stepped closer to Erik in his haste to preserve his shoes, he gasped and jumped back.

Erik rolled his eyes, "Oh come now, you're not that attractive either."

Raoul's eyes widened, "Christine thinks so...and so have others."

"Your mother doesn't count."

Raoul turned to leave in a huff, "I'm going to find Christine."

"Wait, monsieur!" Erik called to him.

Raoul froze.

"Drink with me."

"I beg your pardon?" He turned towards him.

Erik waved a hand towards the empty chair and the Vodka bottle. "Drink with me."

"Why?" Raoul asked slowly.

Erik shrugged, "You wouldn't make me drink alone, would you?"

"Actually I would." Raoul again turned to go.

"I suppose you couldn't hold your liquor anyway, having only been exposed to a lighter alcoholic beverage such as champagne. You're not good for much are you?"

Raoul froze again at his words, then turned and stalked back into the room and sat in the chair. Erik grinned and sat across from him. He poured hardly more than a drop into one shot glass, and filled another almost to the brim, handing the nearly empty one to Raoul, who merely stared at it.

"Do you mean to insult me, monsieur?"

"I don't want to give you more than you can handle."

"Fill it." Raoul ordered.

Erik grinned and did as he said, then handed it to him. He raised his glass, "To Christine, the orchestrator of this meeting, may she have a good explanation for this incident."

Raoul gulped and raised his glass, staring at it, "How do I know this isn't poisoned?"

"Oh please! As if I would poison myself and Christine. You watched me pour it yourself and as I recall you asked for more. It's not poisoned."

Raoul took a deep breath, "To Christine." He and Erik put the glass to their lips at once, though their reactions were vastly different.

Raoul tried not to inhale as the powerful liquor came closer to his lips. Erik downed the entire shot glass in one gulp, setting it down on the table hard. Raoul's eyes widened and, not to be outdone, gulped the entire glass. He didn't realize his mistake until it was too late. Heat surged through his body, his eyes watered, and a giant fit of coughing seized him. Erik laughed as Raoul doubled over, coughing as if he had swallowed a bug the size of the Eiffel Tower.

"Perhaps milk would be better for you, monsieur."

"Pour me another glass." Raoul gasped. He would win this battle, not the Phantom.

"With pleasure." Erik refilled both their glasses.

"To your health, monsieur, may you recover from your last shot before you down the next."

Raoul growled inwardly and tapped his glass against Erik's. Their reactions were pretty much the same as they had been before.

"Boy, is it hot in here or what?" Raoul's eyes were red and his speech was beginning to slur.

"No, I don't think so, monsieur. Another glass?" Erik refilled their glasses again.

"To you, monsieur Phantom," Raoul raised his glass.

"To me?" Erik raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, may you have the sense not to carry out whatever vile plans you may have concocted towards Christine in your anger towards her and her absence this evening."

"Monsieur Vicomte," Erik grinned mischievously, "I would say Christine is the least of your worries at this moment." He raised his glass with a slight inclination of his head, then drank it's contents in one gulp.

Raoul's thoughts were much too blurry to clearly translate the meaning of the Phantom's last remark, as evidenced by the frown of confusion that came over his face, so he merely raised his glass and braced himself for the draining of it.

"Where'd you get this stuff anyway?" Raoul slurred, staring at his empty shot glass, unsuccessfully attempting to answer his own question.

"I have my ways," Erik answered mysteriously. "However I never planned on wasting it on you."

Raoul burped.

"Though I suppose it wasn't a waste." Erik grinned at his success; the Vicomte was completely inebriated. "So, Vicomte, have you given any thought to my mandate? Will you relinquish this foolish quest of yours for Miss Daae's heart?"

"Christine?" Raoul's guard had been brought down by the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed and he was now ready, as the Phantom had suspected, to say and do just about anything. "My goodness is she annoying! And really, she isn't all that good looking." A foolish grin spread across his face, "Now her friend, what's her name? Lil'...lil' Giry...now she might be worth going after."

Erik paid close attention to his rival's words; it took extra attention to make out his slurred speech. "So you will leave Christine alone?"

"Nope." Raoul hiccuped and winced as he drank another shot full.

"And why not?" Erik's voice had a dangerous edge to it that would have made Raoul's blood run cold had he not been to inebriated to realize it.

"Because."

"Because you're too drunk to have any sense?" Erik clenched and unclenched his fist, restraining himself from strangling his rival on the spot.

"I swear to drunk I'm not God." Raoul shook his head and attempted to pour himself another shot, frowning in concentration as he tried to make the liquid go into the glass.

"Give me that." Erik snatched the bottle from him and refilled their glasses himself. "You are drunk and you're wasting my Vodka to boot. Now," he raised his glass, "to Meg then?"

"Meg!" Raoul attempted to smack his forehead and missed, grazing the top of his head, "that's her name. Yes, to Meg, and may Christine never find out."

"That's hardly the appropriate behavior, monsieur Vicomte, claiming to love a woman with all your heart and then loving another."

"What would you know about it?" Raoul coughed after draining his glass yet again.

"More than you, that's certain."

"You?"

Erik clenched his fists, "Yes, me."

"Ha! How?"

"Because I love her, and you don't. You've already admitted to this. Why do you still pursue her?"

"Well, it's time I get married, so I'm told. But mainly I want to steal her from you." He gulped another glass.

Erik's eyes narrowed, "Well it won't work."

"We'll see about that." Raoul attempted to stand.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Yeeessss." The Vicomte steadied himself and blinked hard. " The Vodka is gone and you know what they say: 'Two'z comp'ny but tree'z a crowd.'"

"Well that would be a concern, but since there is only two of us..."

"I can count!" Raoul glared at him. "One of you is bad enough, but two!"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Allow me to help you to the door."