The Universe's Mixer

Exploring had been good. Piotr had looked for Beauty's house, but had not been able to find it, and he didn't quite know why. He hoped his kind friend was still in the City, he did wish to see her and thank her for her hospitality. He had run off to find Kitty and never returned. Not his choice, of course.

And this time he had his lovely Katya, and he could introduce the two of them.

They, him, Kitty, and Lockheed, had hit nearly every food cart and smaller food shop that they'd passed, as Piotr never felt quite full. At first he thought it was a matter of his eyes being bigger than his stomach, until he realized that he wasn't just craving things, he needed them. His body had been running on nearly empty for so long, being around all the food was a touch overwhelming.

But he was indulged, and between the stops they were seeing a lot.

He had taken her back to the apartment at the end of the day, their apartment. Their clean, nicely furnished, clean apartment. And then he'd ordered a pizza.

The aftermath of the pizza and beers were still on the coffee table. Piotr was stretched out on the couch, almost smothering it with his size.

"Katya... the pizza might have done me in."

The prince in him had wanted to take up at The Manchester, with all of the gargoyles and columns, the fact that it veritably stank of wealth. But what he really wanted was to have a place with Eric where they could have privacy when they wanted it. And an apartment, or condo - no matter how well appointed, was not going to provide that.

A lot of time had been spent looking for just the right place, and he finally found it. A cute little cottage-style house complete with white picket fence. Maybe it was absurd, but it warmed Macklyn's heart.

Eric had run off to do an errand, and the fairy hadn't butt into it. He knew that when Eric was done, he would come back and tell Macklyn everything. They didn't hide anything from each other. And if Eric thought it was necessary, then it was. Period.

But now he'd found a house and he wanted to share.

Eric. He pushed out with his mind, they didn't generally speak telepathically, but with two Brans out there, he didn't want signals to get crossed and messages to get sent to the wrong place. I have something for you.

The composer was missing.

Hannibal had left Arya with attendants, thinking that Erik would be back soon. The next day he'd gone back to put the cast on and he'd thought that they had been two ships, barely missing one another in the night. He had returned to the routine of the City, going to the opera house for practices and rehearsals. Erik's presence was missing from there, as well. Which was highly noticed by himself anyway, but when the new third chair flautist showed up to his first rehearsal with the orchestra, Hannibal realized that something must truly be wrong.

He'd seen it when he'd been in the kitchen, examining Arya. Erik had been off. But there was no way that a man like this one would have been allowed to have a chair in Erik's arrangements if all was even remotely well. The situation was more dire than Hannibal had thought.

Returning to the mansion, Hannibal discovered that Erik had not returned since he'd handed the girl over for care. Arya was, of course, being attended to properly. But it wasn't like Erik to not be there for a charge. This bothered Hannibal quite a bit.

Erik deserved a few more days, he'd decided. He would allow the man time to do whatever it was that he felt he needed to be doing. They would talk when he returned. Of course, Hannibal's patience ran thin with the flautist and he decided he couldn't wait any longer. Something had to be done. And he wanted Erik to be a part of it.

It did not take the young doctor any time to figure out where his friend had gone. There was only one place in the City that Erik felt completely secure. It also didn't enter his mind that perhaps he shouldn't be going down there. He'd already been. He knew his way. The path was set in his mind forever. He needed to see Erik, needed to see what help his friend needed, and so there was no question.

He marched down into the deep and secret world under the opera house, dragging his reluctant gift with him. A gift that would, perhaps, help Erik out of his funk. Oh, he was well aware that he was going to be on the wrong end of some anger about the invasion, and the gift, but he was sure that he could overcome that particular emotion and get Erik to see what needed to be done.

The way was not easy, but Hannibal made good time. It wasn't too long before he was staring at a door, his knuckles tapping gently upon it.