A/N: Oh. My. God! I saw the stage show this weekend, that's why I didn't upload the new chapter. DEAR LORD! Earl Carpenter is GOD!
Still don't own Phantom, unfortunately…

It was 7 am and Henriette was sitting on the sofa in Angelique's flat drinking hot chocolate. She was wearing her biker's leathers; Angie was wearing pink PJ's with hearts on.

"Henriette… it's too early. You're meeting for lunch not breakfast." The living dead whined from an armchair.

"But Angie I need help." Angelique muttered something along the lines of 'I figured.' Henriette shot her a look and continued regardless. "I need something nice to wear, casual but nice."

Angelique rolled her eyes. The last time Henri had turned up begging for fashion advice was when her work colleague invited her to a business dinner thing and she needed smart clothes. Even then it was simply a matter of picking out a suitable suit (she refused to wear dresses) and Henriette had been calm and collected most of the time. Now she was a nervous wreck. It was like nothing Angie had ever seen before.

"Casual lunch with Erik. Right." She made a point of yawning widely and disappeared for a moment into her spare room. She came out with a red top; it was long, and ended about mid-thigh but tight. The neckline was low but it buttoned up so that wasn't an issue. "Wear this over your black jeans and pirate boots. Do whatever you like with your hair and promise me that you will not do up more than 2 buttons on the t-shirt okay?"

Henriette nodded gratefully and took the shirt, storing it in her bag and dumping her empty mug on the table. "Jeans and pirate boots. Got it…"

"No makeup."

"No makeup." Henriette repeated dutifully. "I owe you one Angie."

"You owe me lots, it's a damn good thing you have me as a friend. Where would you be without me?" she laughed, throwing a cushion at her.

Henriette caught the cushion and grinned, "I would be Fashion consultant-less and hopeless. You can come round for dinner tonight if you want and I'll relay the details."

"If you're cooking fine – I'll be there. I but I get to bring desert."

Henriette nodded and held out her hand. "We have a deal. I shall see you at 7" they shook on it and Henri left to get waffles for breakfast.

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Un-known to anyone else Erik was also up and about at some ungodly hour in the morning pacing up and down the kitchen. Lunch… Lunch… Lunch…

"Sheeba!" he cried, flinging himself onto a stool at the breakfast bar, "Why did I say lunch! Why!"

Sheeba yawned, glared at him, and disappeared into the garden through the catflap.

"Fat lot of help you are." Erik muttered, getting up to continue his cupboard search. It wasn't that he had no food; it was more that he couldn't cook. In fact Erik's entire menu of things-he-could-cook included Pasta in a pre-made sauce, Oven Pizza & Oven chips, and some vegetables. If he wanted good food he went out. End of.

He paced some more, and eventually went into the living room and sat at the computer.

Half an hour later he turned it off, rubbing his eyes. Still screwed. "Maybe I could take her out? For Pizza?" He said aloud, "Maybe I should stop talking to inanimate objects and animals…" Erik sighed. Someone, probably Andrew, had called him a genius once. If only they could see me now…