I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart. BIG thanks once more to Luthien Saralonde, she is the best beta a writer can get!
A/N: I won't bother you with excuses for not updating sooner, just let me tell you that I am terribly sorry for letting you wait sooo long for a new chapter. I also had to do some changes at the end of chapter 27 for the story line about the poisoning to be logical and fitting. If you like, read it again, it's nothing big though.
Well, here goes, enjoy!

CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN ENEMIES PART 2

"Not yet," Erik answered. "And honestly, I fear if Clara gets home before I have one, I might just black out and strangle her. After all, she deserves it."

"You have to stay calm, Erik," Raoul advised him, addressing him with his name for the first time. "And I think she knows she better stay away at the moment." Erik rewarded this with a grunt. "You have to think of something, you are a genius after all," Raoul continued, feeling strange to admit this to his former enemy.

Erik stared at him, bewildered, then sneered. "A genius that turned to madness, weren't those your words?" Erik taunted him.

Raoul flinched. "You heard that?"

"It was my Opera house, I knew everything that was going on inside of it," Erik replied dryly. "But that is of no importance now," he added.

Raoul let out a breath he had not known he had been holding. It was true that he just had asked of Erik to resurface the old demons, but he preferred them not to be directed at him. It took him a while to comprehend that Erik had made a joke, for he now registered the smile on his face. 'Good God, this is definitely one of the strangest nights in my life' he thought.

"Have you searched her room already?" Raoul offered, going back to the matter at hand.

Erik shook his head. "No, I concentrated solely on my wife."

"Well, let us do it now then," Raoul said, walking over to the door. When he saw that Erik did not move, he turned around. "Are you coming?"

Erik looked at Joséphine. Her breathing seemed to have improved slightly, and she appeared calmer. But even if it was for only a moment, he did not want her to be alone. He walked over to the adjoining door to his rooms, and knocked.

His intuition had proved him right, for Mathilde opened the door the second he pulled his arm away. Immediately, she spoke up, her eyes cast down. "Please Monsieur, don't think that I spied on you and the Vicomte. I merely chose to wait here, in case Joséphine needed anything." She looked up sheepishly, waiting for his verdict.

Erik had to smile at the devotion she showed for her friend. "Take care of her; we will only be away for a moment."

Glad that he believed her, Mathilde nodded enthusiastically, and curtsied to the men before walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her friend.

Quietly, Erik followed Raoul outside on the corridor, and then took the lead towards Clara's quarters.

The door to the Master bedroom was closed, but fortunately not locked. Joséphine had once told him that it had been her parent's room, and that Clara, as soon as she had been married, had wanted to throw away all her mother's belongings. Stanislas was so terribly in love with his new wife that he had let her do as she saw fit. He understood that being surrounded by memories of his first wife in the bedroom would not be a good start in a new marriage, and frankly, looking at some of Isabelle's souvenirs was depressing for him as well. Joséphine had merely been able to save a few pieces of what were once her mother's possessions.

Uncommon for married couple of their class, Joséphine's parents had shared a bedroom, since their marriage had been not arranged, but formed out of love. Stanislas was also very much in love with Clara, so it was only logical for him to continue this habit.

But, since three years into their marriage Clara still had not conceived an heir for the title of the Marquis d'Escayrac, Stanislas had moved to the adjoining room, only sharing the bed with his wife now and then. He had withdrawn more and more from Clara, who, in her unhappiness, for she had come to love her husband, had started to fill the void with excessive shopping tours.

As a result, the wardrobe was nearly impossible to close, and the whole room was filled with knickknacks and hideous porcelain figures, the bed covered with frilly pillows and small dolls. Erik thought that it seemed rather like the room of an old spinster than of a married woman in her prime. He glanced at Raoul, who apparently had come to the same conclusion, as he looked around in bizarre and unveiled wonder.

Erik strode over to the vanity, and started looking for pills or some powder like Nadir had described it to him, while Raoul continued staring around amazed. Finally, he rose from his stupor and started looking around in drawers for something that might help them convict Clara.

On the right side of the vanity, Erik found a small pot that contained a loose white powder. The script on the label confirmed him that it was indeed an arsenic powder. He continued looking for pills, but found none.

Exasperated, he turned around and addressed the Vicomte. "Have you found something yet?"

Raoul, who had been checking the drawers of the bedside table, straightened and shook his head. "Nothing. If there is any incriminating evidence against her, it is definitely not here. What about you?"

Erik held up the powder pot, and Raoul came closer. His eyes widened in recognition. "My sister uses the same brand on a regular basis. But there is no way it contains enough arsenic to poison one person, let alone a whole bowl of punch. Besides, given the mixture and scent of it," he opened the pot and held it out to Erik, who drew back, disgusted. It smelled strongly of vinegar. "...your wife would surely have noticed a difference in taste."

Erik withstood the urge to pound his fist into the dressing table mirror. He had never felt so helpless. Where had Clara gained access to the poison? She could not have simply bought it somewhere without raising suspicions, and she would not have involved someone else, not even her truest oldest most faithful maid Camille, for fear of being betrayed or blackmailed.

His gaze roamed the room, and fell on a couple of photographs on top of the dresser to his right. He moved closer, examining them. There was the wedding picture of Clara and Stanislas, both looking enormously happy, a picture of an elder couple, supposedly Clara's parents, for they were on another photograph together with Clara and a young man. It was her brother Pierre, Stanislas' assistant.

Joséphine had told him that her father was a naturalist, a bookworm with a streak for adventure. Pierre was a chemist and botanist. After his second marriage, Stanislas had bought a small house in the Quartier Latin, close to the Sorbonne University, which served them as laboratory and storeroom.

"The laboratory," Erik muttered.

"What laboratory?" Raoul asked, confused.

Erik tore his gaze away from the photographs and looked at Raoul. "Joséphine's father is a scientist. She told me once that he and his assistant have a laboratory close to the Sorbonne. They always brought back samples of plants or stones to examine and study them more closely. Chances are big that they have arsenic in the laboratory."

Raoul nodded, understanding. "So you think Clara's brother is somehow involved too?"

"No, her brother is missing in Africa, along with Stanislas d'Escayrac." Erik explained.

"Oh, yes, I remember reading something about that last year in the papers," Raoul replied. "So, are we going to the lab then?"

"I must ask Mathilde if she knows the right address," Erik said, walking back out into the corridor. It only took him a few long strides to be back in front of Joséphine's door. "Vicomte, I..."

"Raoul, call me Raoul," the young man interrupted him. Erik looked at him, surprised. Raoul looked back, amused. "Do you not think that after everything we have been through, we can forgo formalities and be on a first name basis?"

The cheek of the boy! But, he was right. He opened the door and they walked inside. His eyes immediately went to his wife, looking for any change in her condition, then to Mathilde, who shook her head.

"Raoul, I don't know if I am able to leave Joséphine right now. I need to be by her side, in case she..." he broke of, not wanting to voice what he feared the most.

"I will go alone then," Raoul told him.

Erik walked over to the bed. "Mathilde, send for Nadir and Florence to come back here as soon as possible." As soon as the maid was outside, Erik continued. "Nadir will go with you."

"Believe me, you can trust me on this," Raoul exclaimed, understanding being mistrusted by his former enemy, but outraged none the less. "I also want the culprit caught. I don't need a watchdog!"

Erik raised his arms, telling him he had meant no offense. "This is not about trust," he explained. "Nadir was a policeman in Persia, he is an expert in investigation, and he knows exactly what to look for."

Raoul nodded. "Alright. Is there anything else I can do?"

"I can't think of anything right now." Erik sat down on the Joséphine's left, stroking her hand softly. Raoul walked over to the other side of the bed, staring down at the couple. Erik's love for Joséphine seemed so deep, so complete.

Why had Christine lied to him? She achieved nothing from it, so why had she asked Raoul to go after Erik? After people had started showing symptoms of poisoning, they had waited together for the police to arrive in the front parlour. Once more she had recounted how her former teacher had interrupted her talk with another guest, grabbing her forcefully and dragging her onto the terrace. He had then implored her to come with him, for they were meant to be together.

When she had told the Phantom that she was with child, he had been furious, threatening to get rid of the unborn child, and it was only when another guest had arrived on the terrace, inquiring if she was alright, that she had been able to free herself from his grasp and run back inside, looking for Raoul.

The minute she related the story to him Raoul knew that it was not true, because he had seen Erik's reaction to Joséphine's sickness, and knew that he had no feelings left for his former pupil. But perhaps some of it was true after all, that's why he had asked Erik earlier to recount his version of the events.

Erik had not indicated that he knew about Christine's pregnancy. Raoul wondered how he would react to that. Sooner or later, if they succeeded and Erik stayed with Joséphine, he would learn about it, so why not tell him now?

'Because you fear to discover another lie from your wife,' his conscience told him. 'After all, you thought that you were the perfect couple, childhood sweethearts reunited, facing every threat and emerging victorious and strengthened in your love from it.'

What did it say about his marriage when his wife had no scruples whatsoever to lie to him? Joséphine here had known from the start who she married, while he instead began to have the feeling that he barely knew his wife at all.

When Raoul cleared his throat, Erik looked up at him, his eyes questioning.

"When you talked to Christine," Raoul began.

'There we go again,' Erik thought. 'I knew this was far from over.'

"...did she tell you why we came back to Paris earlier than foreseen?"

Erik shook his head, not knowing where this was heading.

'Maybe he is only feigning ignorance,' Raoul thought, even though part of him did believe his opponent.

"You know, I am so glad that in her condition, Christine had to stay away from the punch," Raoul continued, letting Erik come to the conclusion on his own.

"What condition? Is she s..." he stopped, realization dawning. "Oh."

It was clear to Raoul that Erik had no prior knowledge of Christine's pregnancy. His head hurt, and his heart as well.

Erik saw how Raoul's shoulder's slumped slightly, and he looked defeated. He was going to be a father, something Erik was never going to be, he thought bitterly, so why did he look so unhappy about it. Then, suddenly he understood.

"She told you I knew about it, didn't she?"

Raoul nodded. He looked so young and forlorn at the moment, and Erik, for the first time since their paths had crossed, felt sympathy for his former enemy.

"Do not fret over what she said. Christine is young, and she always tended to exaggerate her stories. She clearly had counted on me continuing to pine for her, and she would have been right, had I not met Joséphine." Erik lovingly looked down on his wife's face, then back up at Raoul. ""I think for her it was all done spur of the moment; she was piqued that I was no longer attached to her. But she loves you, I know it, and you know it too. Let it drop, or you will blow this whole affair out of proportion."

Raoul stared at him, dumbfounded. He had just been given a marriage counsel by the Phantom of the Opera. This night was even stranger than the one after the untimely end of 'Don Juan Triumphant', albeit less dangerous. 'At least for me,' he thought with a quick glance towards Joséphine's continuous still form.

"Raoul?" Erik's voice jerked him from his thoughts. "I really appreciate your help." Erik's tone was sincere.

"You're welcome."

Notified by a messenger sent by Mathilde, Florence and Nadir were heading back towards the Escayrac's house in fast strides. Given the late hour and the fact that there were no coffee houses nearby, they had sat down in a nearby park. Florence had let Nadir in on everything that had happened so far.

When they arrived at the front door, another messenger, a young boy in filthy clothes, addressed them from the front gates.

"Excuse me? Is the Vicomte de Chagny here?" he asked them timidly, out of breath. He must have run here.

"Yes boy," Nadir answered, going back to meet him.

"I have a message for the Vicomte, could you pass it along to him?" the boy asked, stretching out his hand which held a sealed envelope.

Nadir took out some coins and thanked the boy for his delivery. As soon as the money was safely stored in his pockets, the boy dashed of down the street.

"What is that?" Florence asked Nadir, curious.

"I do not know," he answered.

When they arrived in Joséphine's room, Mathilde had once more taken her place close to her friend, on the other side from Erik. Raoul stood close by, apparently lost in thought. Nadir went over to him and handed him the missive.

"This message was delivered for you," he explained. Erik looked up, wondering what this was about.

"It must be from my solicitor. I told him to inform me should there be any news." Raoul tore open the seal and flew over the letter. Finally, he looked up.

"I know where Clara is."