"The tea is very good, Daroga, but of course it's not quite as good as the tea my wife makes for us," Erik's yellow eyes held that same sparkle they did every time he mentioned his 'wife'.

Nadir stifled a sigh. The man had been finding every excuse to bring up this supposed 'wife' all afternoon, and finally Nadir could ignore it no longer.

'I look very different from the last time you saw me, don't I, Daroga? I've gained weight, you see-' here he patted his still bony figure. 'It's because my wife insists I eat every single day, the silly girl!'

'It's such a sunny day out, it hurts my eyes terribly, but my wife loves this kind of weather, so I've found myself becoming rather fond of it as well.'

'Oh, are those roses in that vase over there? Roses are my wife's favorite.'

"Where is your wife, Erik?" he asked, the words coming out a little sharper than he intended, but this question had been lingering all afternoon. "I would have expected her to join us for tea today, yet she has not."

There was a moment of silence in which Nadir half feared Erik was about to point to an empty chair and insist that his wife was right there, you great booby! - but luckily he found his old friend's mind was not that far gone... yet. Instead Erik gazed off into the distance, a faraway look in his eye, before answering.

"She is- she fell and hurt herself today, she didn't feel up to the trip here because of it," Erik still gazed at the wall, unseeing, a frown passing over his hidden face but still visible in his voice.

He delicately maneuvered the teacup under the piece of silk hanging over the bottom half of his face so he could take a sip while still maintaining his dignity.

"Oh? She fell, then?"

"Yes, that's what Erik said," annoyance colored his voice.

"She just happened to trip and fall on the one day I invited you both to tea? I see," Nadir said dryly.

"What the devil are you implying, Daroga?" he snapped.

Nadir shrugged.

"Nothing, old friend. Nothing at all."

Yet still Erik gasped and set the teacup down on the table, offended.

"The Daroga does not believe Erik!" he accused, indignant. "He does not believe Erik has a wife who loves him!"

"Now Erik, I didn't say that, not exactly-"

"The Daroga did not need to say it - Erik knows what was in his mind," he practically seethed with offense.

For all his show of anger and scorn, Nadir still noted with amusement that he made no move to storm off or leave. Clearly not - who else would he have to talk to about his 'wife'? Nadir tried to hide his smirk.

"No, no," he tried to placate him. "It's not like that all, Erik. Please, tell me more about, er, Kirsten."

"Christine," he glared at him.

"Yes, that's it. Tell me about her."

Erik straightened in his chair, pushing his shoulders back and swelling with pride.

"We have been married nearly six months now. She is an angel, Daroga, a true angel! I told you this in my last letter to you, surely you remember. But oh, it cannot be said enough!" he sighed happily. "She loves Erik for himself, she agreed to marry him of her own free will!"

He paused turn away and wipe at a tear in his eye.

"And she most definitely exists!" he turned back and spat the words with such vehemence that Nadir leaned away from him just a little.

"I am certain she does!" he found himself agreeing, but he still had his doubts.

Such a girl surely couldn't exist, could she? Erik was almost certainly making the whole thing up - perhaps he really had snapped after all. But still a small part of Nadir couldn't help but worry - what if there was a girl? What if Erik was holding a girl against her will and claiming she loved him? He shuddered at the thought. The poor thing. What if he had forced her to marry him somehow? He was torn between humoring his friend and attempting to goad him into admitting the truth of the situation.

"What- what else is she like?"

"She is everything that's good in this world," he said dreamily. "Hair like sunbeams and a voice like a nightingale, she is so kind and good to Erik. She likes books and flowers and music and- and Erik! She loves Erik."

Nadir nodded.

"I'm sure she does. Perhaps I could meet her one day..."

Erik's soft, dreamy mood lifted and was replaced by one of suspicion.

"What does Daroga want to meet Erik's wife for?" he asked flatly.

"Why wouldn't I want to meet my friend's wife?" he replied evenly, stirring his tea.

Erik narrowed his eyes at him.

"Perhaps Daroga doesn't think he can meet Erik's wife," he said ominously.

"I'm sure I can, Erik... If she isn't ill... or hasn't gotten hurt again... and as long as she isn't busy..."

"Why are you like this, Daroga?" Erik begged and wrung his hands. "Why do you think Erik doesn't have a wife? Is it so hard to believe that Erik could have a wife like any other man?"

Nadir sighed. This man and his mood swings.

"I'm sure you could, Erik, it's just- well, are you... quite certain?"

"She's real!" he beat his hands against the armrests of the chair. "She's a real, living wife! She loves me, too! She does, she does!"

"Alright, Erik, alright! Christine loves you, I agree."

Hearing the words from someone else seemed to calm him.

"How is your new home in the country? Do you live there still?" he attempted to change the subject.

"Yes, Erik lives in the country now," he paused dramatically. "With his wife."

"You told me about it in your last letter, but I haven't been up to see it yet. That was terribly rude of me," Nadir offered.

"It was," Erik looked away.

"Would you like me to come over to dinner one day? I'd love to see your new home, it sounds delightful."

"And- and my wife?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, of course! I'll see her too. We can all have dinner together."

Erik nodded.

"Just let us know the date, Daroga, and we shall arrange it."