Chapter Four

Obviously, they never did get back to sleep that night. Going into detail would take to long, but suffice it to say that by the time the bathroom conflict had finally been resolved, there had been two explosions and a minor flood. Any-who, as you can imagine, cleaning up after all that made our boys pretty hungry. Well, actually, only Raoul was, but I'm sure Erik would have been hungry too, had he not been a lifelong anorexic.

They were also sweltering hot. Their habit of wearing expensive tuxedos every minute of every day was fine for smiting each other and wooing their ladylove, but for mopping up a flooded lair, it was entirely impractical. They had removed their cloaks, cravats, jackets, waistcoats, and shirts in an attempt to beat the heat. However, being handcuffed together, the last three had proven to be impossible. So, their unremovables were hanging by the sleeves and weighing down the handcuff chain. They were sweating profusely as they worked, bent over in exhaustion, and looked for all the world like they were auditioning for the "Work Song" scene in Les Miz.

When it was over and done with, they collapsed on the hallway floor next to each other, too tired to care if the slash authors saw them anymore. "Whew," sighed Raoul, fanning himself. "When I get home, first thing I'm going to do is see about getting our plumber a raise."

"No, first thing you'll have to do is get ready for your wedding." Erik reminded him a little bitterly.

"Oh, yeah. Ugh, I hate to think what Christine's planning right now. That nightmare tux she had picked out…" He shuddered. "By the time I get back, she'll probably have me wearing a pink disco suit with sequins all over it."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to forbid you from saying words like 'pink' while you're a guest in my house," said Erik sternly.

"Deal. Hey, I'm hungry. Got anything to eat for breakfast around here?"

"Yeah, but I'm too tired to get up and get it right now," groaned Erik, burying his face in the carpet.

"Fine. I'm sure I can amuse myself until you work up the strength." And Raoul began to sing. Loudly.

Ten little speckled frogs

Sitting on some speckled logs

Eating the most delicious bugs

Yum! Yum!

One jumped into the pool

Where it was nice and cool

Then there were nine speckled frogs!

Nine little speckled frogs…

By the time he got down to the last little speckled frog, he was singing so loud that his strained voice had gotten all hoarse and off-key.

One jumped into the pool

Where it was nice and cool

Then there were no speckled frogs!

Erik breathed a sigh of relief and pulled his fingers out of his ears. It hadn't been easy, but as a master of torture, he had known he could hold out through all ten frogs if he tried hard enough.

But Raoul wasn't out of irritating baby songs yet…

Baby, you can't love two!

Baby you can't love two!

Can't love two and still be true

So I'm leaving on the midnight train

La dee da! Oh boy! What fun! Uh-huh! Woo-hoo!

Baby, you can't love three!

Baby, you can't love--

Erik clamped his free hand over the vicomte's mouth. "All right, all right! I'll give you anything you want! Just stop before you destroy my ability to love music!"

Raoul smirked victoriously.

They put the pieces of their tuxedos back on and Erik led Raoul to the kitchen, where he put a pan of macaroni and cheese on the stove to cook. Raoul looked curiously from the Phantom to the box. "You eat macaroni for breakfast?"

"Yes. You got a problem with that?" Erik challenged.

"It's just not very healthy. Let me at least fix us a vegetable to go with it." He began to fling open the cupboards, but to his surprise, every last one of them was crammed full of boxed macaroni and cheese. He peeked into the pantry, but it too was packed with macaroni. He opened the refrigerator. Macaroni. He pulled open the freezer, and several boxes of macaroni fell on his head. He stared at Erik, blinking dazedly.

The visible half of Erik's face blushed. "It's the only thing I know how to make, okay?" He spooned up two plates of macaroni and handed one to Raoul. "I'm an evil genius, I don't have a lot of time to cook."

"No big deal. I like macaroni too." He took a bite. "And it could be worse. All those rumors the ballet rats told me about you subsisting on rat's blood could have been true."

After they were finished eating, Erik suddenly let out a panicked yelp. Raoul frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot to check in the basement for flood damage." He bolted toward the basement, yanking Raoul out of his chair and dragging the vicomte along behind him.

"Let me get this straight. Your lair in the basement of a basement of a basement of a basement of a basement has a basement?"

"Yes." He pushed open the door, revealing a mostly empty room.

"What's down here that's so bloody important?" Raoul wanted to know.

"This." Erik proudly pulled a sheet off a tall object in the middle of the room, revealing…Christine Daae? She was smiling cheerfully and standing as still as a statue.

Raoul approached her hesitantly. "Ch-Christine, is that you?"

"No!" Erik flipped a switch. "This is the Christytron 5000. She's totally persuadable. I built her so I could have something to practice my pick-up lines for Christine on. It's more effective than practicing in a mirror."

The robot suddenly sprang to life, her glassy blue eyes riveting themselves adoringly to Erik. "I love you so much Erik, please say you'll take me back! I just want to marry you and snuggle you until the day I die!"

Erik coughed awkwardly. Raoul raised an eyebrow. "You built a robot Christine that you can bend to your every whim?"

"I…uh…I…" Erik tugged nervously at his collar. "It was Nadir's idea!"

"It's a great idea!" the vicomte exclaimed delightedly. "I wish I'd thought of that." He circled the Christytron 5000, grinning. "Hey, Christine, I'm not wearing that thing to the wedding, and if you don't like it, tough! Try finding another gorgeous, rich nobleman who's willing to sacrifice his life for you!" He looked himself over. "Hm, I don't know if I sound authoritative enough for that statement to be effective. Maybe I should try swirling my cape the way you do."

"No, no, no. You've got those classic-blond-hero good looks. Make use of them! Try tossing your hair while you're talking. Here, let me…" He came closer to fix Raoul's hair, but was interrupted when the Christytron 5000 reached out, ripped his mask off, and started screaming.

Erik groaned. "I've tried for eight months and even hired scientists from NASA, and I still can't seem to work that bug out of her system."

Raoul's eyes lit up. "Hey, I know what you could do! Come with me…"

TBC…