Author's notes: I had promised myself I wouldn't beg for reviews... To hell with that promise. Review, pleeeease!


Nadir had been dozing by the fire when he jumped at the pounding on the main door. Whoever it was seemed determined to throw the door down. Nadir retrieved his gun from a drawer in his desk, as he heard Darius open. He made sure the gun was loaded while he heard the heated argument in the foyer. Then the door of the sitting room burst open, and in came Erik, long dark cloak, fedora and all.

"I need a new apartment, Daroga," he stated.

Nadir gaped at him, as he noticed Erik seemed to have developed an enormous belly. Before he could possibly start to comprehend the nature of the weird swelling in the middle of Erik's body, his friend hobbled towards the couch, opened his cloak and lowered a girl onto it. With a slightly jarred movement, he swung his cloak off. He covered the child, tucking her in the soft fabric, but not before Nadir caught eye of the splinted arm.

"Who is. . ."

"The concierge's daughter," answered Erik before Nadir even managed to finish his question.

"What did you. . ."

"What did I do to her, you mean?" Erik burst. "Why would I have done something to her? Do you think I've become a child molester, Daroga?"

Erik's fierce eyes locked on his. There was wildness in them, a savage wrath Nadir hadn't seen in a long time. Still, Nadir also noticed that Erik leant heavily on his left leg, that his forehead was covered in sweat and that his hands were trembling. Nadir didn't flinch, didn't draw back. He corrected his question, instead:

"Why did you bring her here, Erik?"

"I. Need. A new. Apartment," repeated Erik, stressing every word. "I'll be damned if I let her go back to her loving mother."

Nadir frowned.

"You took her away from her mother? Erik. . ."

"Yes!" hissed Erik. "I took her away from the mother that has beaten her almost every day since I started living there. From the one that broke her arm. Don't dare judge me, Daroga."

The violence of Erik's tone was such that Nadir was sure he would have been screaming at the top of his lungs if the sleeping child hadn't been in the same room as they were. Still, Nadir couldn't agree to something that evidently bordered on kidnapping.

"But. . ."

A slight rustle coming from the couch startled them both. They turned around to see the child had opened her eyes and was making a feeble attempt at sitting up. Immediately, Erik was by her side, squatting down to be at the same level with her eyes. He retrieved a cushion from the opposite side of the couch and stuffed it behind her back to support her. The child sagged on the pillow, her bewildered gaze fixed on Erik.

"How are you little one?" asked Erik and Nadir was astounded.

The voice that a moment before had spoken in repressed fury was now infinitely tender.

The child didn't answer, and Nadir couldn't gauge whether she was afraid of Erik or simply startled by her new surroundings.

"Are you in pain?"

Still the same gentle tone. Nadir had never heard Erik speak to anyone in that manner, except. . . Well, better not to dwell on that memory. It had been an unfortunate evening.

The child nodded and licked her dry lips.

"Are you thirsty?"

The child nodded again. Erik turned partly around.

"Nadir, would you please. . ."

Since when had Erik started using polite formulae to ask him for something? Nadir wondered. Erik lifted his gaze, and Nadir was startled at the change in his demeanour. All trace of anger was wiped from his eyes. Instead, they were matted by pain.

"Darius," Nadir ordered quietly.

Darius, who'd been watching by the doorway, bowed and disappeared. Erik turned around to face the child again and Nadir stepped back, as quietly as he could. He should not interfere. If his presence went unnoticed, it would be easier to esteem whether the child trusted Erik or whether she feared him. He suddenly realized he was still holding his gun and, as noiselessly as he could, retreated towards his desk and put it away. He leant against the desk and watched.

Erik was talking to the child. He was showing her a small phial he had taken out of his waistcoat pocket.

". . . The water, I'll put some drops of this in it, and it will draw the pain away."

The child was looking at him trustingly, but as soon as Erik's explanation finished, her eyes darted around the room. She retreated against the cushion, apparently afraid. Immediately, Erik's voice rose again, in a soothing tone.

"This room does look strange, doesn't it," he said warmly. "It is because it is the home of my good friend, Monsieur Kahn," Erik continued, waving at the Persian.

Nadir smiled when the child's eyes fell on him. But the little girl frowned.

"Step closer, Nadir. She can't see you if you stand in the shadows."

Nadir gave a few steps forward and smiled again, for the child's sake. She studied him.

In came Darius with a tray bearing a glass of water. He set it on the table beside the couch.

"And this is Darius," continued Erik. "He's Nadir's manservant. And here's the water. Drink."

He handed her the glass, and the child drank eagerly. Halfway through it, Erik made her stop.

"Now," he continued, taking the glass from her. "We will put some of this in the water. . ."

He uncapped the phial and let ten drops fall in the water.

"And you may drink it. It'll ease your pain and will help you sleep, Gracie. When you wake up tomorrow, your arm won't hurt anymore."

The child took the glass from Erik's hand and, without a moment's hesitation, drank its contents. Nadir was stunned at the ease with which Erik spoke to the child, and the tranquillity with which she accepted his presence and his care.

A minute later, the child's head bobbed, and her eyes slid shut. Erik rose to his feet and gathered her in his arms. He left the room without a word and Nadir followed. Erik entered the guest room where he'd spent his illness. He supported the child with his right arm as he swung the covers of the bed to one side with a low grunt of pain. He lowered the child, took his cloak away, undid the laces of her cloak and turned her on the side to retrieve the cloth from underneath her body. He laid the small garment at the feet of the bed and knelt down. Nadir's eyes widened. He blatantly gawked as Erik undid the laces of the child's boots and carefully removed them from her feet. He covered her with the blankets and tucked her in. He turned towards Nadir.

"We could perhaps discuss the matter now," he hissed. "That is, if you're done gaping, Daroga."

Nadir turned around and led the way to the sitting room.

As soon as they came in, Erik collapsed onto the couch. Nadir closed the door to the foyer and decided to give Erik a short reprieve. The child had been abducted. At this time, the mother should have already noticed her absence. Perhaps she had even related Erik to the disappearance of her child. The girl would have to be restored to her mother, the scandal would have to be quelled, the inquiries from the police avoided. He didn't want to start thinking about how he would manage to do all of that. In any way, Erik was right on something: he needed a new apartment.

Nadir crossed the sitting room and served two glasses of cognac. He silently handed one to Erik and brought the decanter to the low table. He sat on the armchair.

"I guess you want me to tell you what happened, Daroga, don't you?" Erik sighed, after they had had the first sip.

"That would be most helpful, my friend."

Erik closed his eyes. For a moment, he didn't say anything. He seemed utterly exhausted. When he started speaking, his voice was weary, devoid of any emotion.

After Erik finished his tale, Nadir sat motionless for an instant. He realized he had drunk his third cognac when he lifted the glass to his lips and found it empty. He unstoppered the decanter and tilted the bottle in Erik's direction. Erik handed him the glass and Nadir refilled it. He served himself a generous portion and had a long sip. His mind was whirling.

He didn't doubt a word Erik had said. He hadn't seen, in the girl, any signs of fear or mistrust. And yet. . . And yet Erik had been obsessed by the need to care for another human being not so long ago. His obsession had even bordered the realm in which one is unable to distinguish one's desires from reality, in which one's mind bends the facts to turn them into one's wishes. Nadir hadn't noticed it on time then. He hadn't been able to stop the disastrous course of events that had led to the destruction of Erik's home and his near death. And now he didn't want to see history repeat itself.

But what if Erik wasn't obsessed this time? The child had a broken arm, and Nadir knew Erik couldn't possibly have harmed her. What if the mother did abuse the child? Should he return the child, then? What would happen to her if he did? And how would Erik react if Nadir insisted on returning the child to her mother?

Nadir finished the contents of his glass in one go and observed the remnants of the liquor cling to the sides. After casting a glance at the motionless form of his friend, he made his decision.

"Let's get you into bed," he said. "We'll draw a course of action in the morning."

He stood up, and gestured towards Erik, who opened his eyes and gazed at him dazedly.

"I can sleep on the couch," Erik protested.

"Nonsense," Nadir countered. "You're my guest. Come now."

He took Erik's forearm and gently helped him to his feet. He thanked Allah Erik was too exhausted to voice further protests. He guided Erik to his own room and fussed around drawing the curtains and opening the bedcovers until he'd made sure Erik would take up his offer and lie down in his bed. He then lowered the light on the lamp on the night table and went out of the room.