Chapter 58

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera

"Antoinette?" Erik approached the ballet mistress, "Have you seen Poppy? She has been missing for a few hours now."

Antoinette thought for a few minutes, "No. I haven't seen her ether. She's not down in the lair or practicing with Armand and Reyer?"

He shook his head, "No. She came up with me early this morning, and then excused her self. I haven't seen her since. She has been acting rather strange lately."

"Of course. How strange though?"

Erik shook his head, "Sometimes she'll cry, but mostly act very emotional."

Antoinette laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry Erik. It is all very normal. Remember when I was carrying Meg?"

He nodded. It had driven him nuts. It was the one thing in the world he didn't understand. He drove Antoinette nuts with embarrassed asked questions, him stuttering and blushing, but not able to hold the questions back. She had tried to tell him that such questions were improper, but his need for learning couldn't be stifled. Finally, to shut him up, she gave him the facts of life. He was indeed shocked. In all of his travels, he had seen and learned about death, but never birth. But, he was still unsure of it.

"I'm still worried though."

Antoinette sighed, glancing at the Rats, tapping her cane on the floor she called them to a stop. "Break. Half hour. Come Erik, let's go find her."

They again spilt up. Looking in all places but one. Erik and Antoinette passed one another in front of the kitchen doors.

"Anything?"

"No. We could try—" Antoinette was interrupted by a loud bang from the kitchen. "We haven't tried the kitchen."

Erik opened the door. On the oak table, food of every kind was laid out. Poppy was feeling around in the cabinets.

"Poppy? What are you doing?"

Poppy turned, a half eaten pickle in her hand, "Looking for something to eat."

Erik picked up a bowl of boiled eggs, eyeing the red sauce on them, "I can see that."

Poppy took a bite of the pickle, then a drink of cream that was in a cup beside her. Walking over to the table, she felt around. "Erik? Is there a lemon pie on the table?"

"Pie?" He raised an eyebrow, pushing the yellow pie over to her, watching as she cut a piece out and take a bite "You hate pie. In fact, you hate more then half the food you have laid out."

Poppy nodded, spearing another piece, "I know." Popping the bite in her mouth, she swallowed then looked up, "Do we have any pickled pig's feet and mushrooms?"

Short I know, but that was the idea for this chappie. Like her little buffet?