A/N-The latest chapter for TMoaM isn't quite ready, so I offer another Scrapbook piece instead. I love these two and their bickering.

Errands and Enmity

2018, Riene

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A bell sounded in the distance and Erik rose from his comfortable arm chair with some reluctance. A quick glance in the parlor showed it to be the north-side entrance alarm and he nodded, crossing into the dining room to increase the heat under the samovar, and returned to his novel. A few minutes later there was an agitated pounding at the door.

"Erik!"

The Persian stood dripping on his doorstep, fury in his eyes. "I told you to dismantle that trap, if that's the path you wish me to take!"

"I did. But I installed another. You cannot expect me to leave my pathways undefended, can you?" the Opera Ghost said reasonably, and stepped back. Khan stalked through the house into the parlor, to stand by the blazing fire.

"I am wet to my knees," he snapped accusingly. "Had I not grasped that jutting rock, I would surely have fallen into your lake."

Erik nodded thoughtfully. "I must remember to remove that rock, then. Thank you for letting me know."

Nadir Khan simply glared at his long-time adversary and sank onto the sofa, where he kicked off soggy leather shoes and peeled away stockings, revealing two hairy legs. "Bring me some dry clothing at once." He draped the black stockings over the fender and turned his once fine shoes toward the heat, as Erik watched with interest.

"These are no doubt ruined."

"A bit of polish and I'm sure they'll be fine," Erik said with maddening calm.

Khan glared and began unfastening his braces. "A robe also, if you please."

"Very well."

The Opera Ghost returned a minute later bearing robe and slippers, and handed them over. Khan held up the objects dubiously. "These will not fit."

"No," Erik agreed. "They will be much too long. You should really consider leaving a change of clothing here. Or at least slippers. You are far too clumsy around my lake."

Khan opened his mouth and then simply shook his head, belting the long crimson robe around his rotund middle. It did not quite meet. Nor did the slippers fit well. The padded silk, meant for Erik's long narrow feet, stretched dangerously.

Khan draped his trousers over the fender and turned it toward the heat. Giving Erik one last glare, he settled into a chair and reached for his pipe.

Golden eyes glowered so fiercely he froze. "What?"

"Do not. Christine has a lesson this evening and I will not have her breathing in that pernicious smoke."

Khan huffed into his mustache and irritably returned the pipe to his pocket. "As you wish."

"The water should be about hot. Would you like a cup of tea instead?" Erik offered.

The Persian rolled his eyes. "I thought you would never ask."

In the alcove which served as his kitchen, Erik extended one long arm without looking and withdrew two small porcelain teapots from the shelf. He cast a handful of dried mint leaves into the first and carefully scraped a section of his last remaining Russian tea brick into the other. The samovar yielded hot water, and he set both pots on a tray with cups. To the Persian's saucer he added three lumps of sugar. To his own, a healthy dollop of brandy.

He set the tray on the low ottoman between them. Taking up his own cup, Erik watched his guest over the rim. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Khan took a deep and outraged breath. "There is an enormous packing crate in my flat! From America! Addressed to a Monsieur Erik Khan!"

Erik looked delighted. "Aha! So it has arrived at last!"

"That is not the point!" Nadir sputtered. "It arrived on my doorstep! I had to tip the boy an outrageous sum to have it brought up four flights of stairs!"

"Well, it is not as if I could have it delivered to my doorstep, is it?" Erik said reasonably.

"That is not the point! I am not your errand boy!"

"No, Darius is," Erik said, as if explaining to a very slow pupil. "But he does not like me, for some reason, and I cannot expect him to bring it here, now can I?"

The Persian's eyes narrowed. "And what is in this packing crate, pray tell? Gatling guns? Explosives? Deadly poisons?"

Erik sighed. "Come, Daroga, we both know you've already investigated my little parcel."

"True." The Persian stroked his mustache smugly. "Books, Erik? You have some already." He gestured at the back room.

"Only eight hundred and fifty seven volumes, Nadir. And I have read them all. I am bored, Nadir. And it is not wise for me to be bored, or so you've said. So I ordered new reading materials."

Khan took another tip of mint tea, crunching a sugar lump between his teeth. Erik winced.

"But all the way from the States?"

"I wish to sample their wit and wisdom," he explained, then frowned. "Surely they have some."

"But the Americans, Erik, surely..."

"They cannot all be barbarians. After all, there are Europeans on the continent as well. I might even visit someday. The West, perhaps. I might build an opera house in some godforsaken outpost of humanity and bring them civilization. Or perhaps settle in New York. I am given to understand the Coney Island area is a positive den of iniquity." He looked delighted at the thought.

"Coney Island?" asked the Persian dubiously. "I thought a coney was a type of British rabbit?"

"It is. Perhaps the island is overrun with the creatures?"

"Erik. New York is a bad idea."

"Probably." He sounded unconvinced. "But about my books. Did you bring them with you?"

The Persian's eyes bulged. "No."

The Opera Ghost appeared nonplussed. "I am disappointed to hear that."

"Erik!" the Persian shouted. "I am not your errand boy! What am I to do with that crate?"

The Opera Ghost frowned. "You could have it delivered to Madame Giry? I could then bring down the books a few at a time."

Khan simply stared at him, going pale. "Have that great wooden box delivered to Adele? To that tiny office? She'd kill me."

"Nonsense, Nadir. I thought the two of you had some tendresse for one another?"

Khan smirked. "Ma petite colombe...yes."

Erik shuddered. "Spare me your maudlin sentiments. I must have my books."

Khan shook his head. "Not put with Adele, though. I would not dare. She has a mean left hook."

Erik raised a hand and rubbed his jaw. "Ah, that she does. I suppose you will just have to deliver the books yourself."

He paused and smiled. "And Nadir...do please keep them out of my lake?"

I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, and please leave it a comment. :)

R