when he had taken on the Yellow Room Case. He could have quit, he could have denied it, but he didn't, but did he do it to prove a point? Evidently he did in some way, as he proved himself to his superior officers that he was capable of being a great detective. But, what is to boost his ego, to be as great as Poe's C. Auguste Dupin (who was an inspiration to him). In fact, he was somewhat obsessed with Monsieur Dupin's incredible deductive skills and keen intelligence via his method of problem-solving called ratiocination, or "to reason"

   "...The extent of information obtained; lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in the quality of the observation...But it is in matters beyond the limits of mere rule that the skill of the analyst is evinced. He makes in silence a host of observations and inferences..." He muttered beneath his breath, taking a quote from Poe's The Murders in the Rue Morgue that speaks about Dupin's methods of deduction and problem-solving. This was sort of a "code" that he lived by.

   However, despite this, and truth be told, it was sort of a dismal job, despite his vast knowledge and previous successes. In fact, for the most part, he was almost always alone whilst doing cases mainly because he preferred to be alone. He did speak to Monsieur Babet every now and then, but other than that, he never had any real conversation with any dog, male or female. He hadn't any girlfriend or mate, no true friends that he had grown up with, nor did he really have contact with any of his relatives.

   So, why would he dedicate his life to solving crimes? Jean-Claude tapped a claw against his cheek, as this was a question he would occasionally ask himself. He felt it necessary to ask yourself questions, even if it meant questioning your own sense of morality.

   The only conclusion he could really think of for his true ambition was probably his need to know, the pursuit to learn about why dogs did certain things, to help others, and to ultimately be something in this world. He had heard a few dogs talk gossip about him, saying he was nothing more than a "problem-solving machine". He chuckled, as this was partially true, but it wasn't like he had to feel. He was a detective, not a therapist, and besides, letting your emotions get in the way of solving crime can lead to dead ends.

   Other than that, he couldn't really think of reason, especially when he questioned as to why any other dog would do this. He wasn't sure what others thought, but he could guess; but he wasn't one to judge. He too had questioned as to why this case had sparked his interests.

   It doesn't matter what this is all about, he thought, placing his shoulders on his desk, his head in his paws, I'm going to figure this out, and even if it means that I have to risk losing this position, this wolf-dog ghost will be brought to justice. Of course, whilst he was on the right track, he knew there would still be more additional information to fully understand this ghost. I have to be careful, this ghost knows that I'm after him, and from the looks of this note he sent me, he probably wants to beat me, just as I am.

   Jean-Claude's eyes scanned over to the darkened night sky out his office window, so, is it to be war between us, Monsieur Fantome? He thought, chuckling to himself, as he gave out a deep sigh, as this was going to be a long night.

   Steele was sitting in his parlor at his family estate, having not gotten up from his seat since he had gotten back from the opera, mostly because his brother wasn't too cheerful with not knowing where he was.

   "Steele," Philippe said at the malamute across from him, trying to keep his composure, "Could you mind telling me where you were this evening?"

   Steele continued to look at his paws, as sat rather silently on the couch.

   "Steele, I'm speaking to you." Steele glanced up at his brother, not really wanting to make eye contact with him.

   Philippe sighed, "Let me guess, you were at the Opera House?" Steele moved his head from side to side, implying that yes was the answer.

   Philippe was about to give him a stern talking to, just as he did when Steele had went to Perros, but he didn't. Steele noticed this, since brother was somewhat calmer than the other day.

   "You're not gonna chew me out?" He asked.

   Philippe shook his head, "I would, but I won't. You see, while I was waiting for you to return, I knew very well as to why you were there, Stephen de Chagny." Steele raised a brow, as he wasn't expecting this, but didn't reply.

   "I assume you know what I'm talking about, right?" Philippe continued. "It's about that Daae girl, isn't it?"

   "What gave it away?" Steele replied, rolling his eyes.

   "I could see it, brother. You don't know everything about me, but I know lots of things about you. The way you try to hide your emotions, the way you try to keep your true feelings in check, to let the world not see you're more vulnerable 'weaker' side as you put it."

   Steele raised a brow, "Brother, you're sort of freaking me out here. What are you talking about?"

   "You love her, don't you?" Steele heart almost stopped, and he thought that he was sweating. He suddenly seemed to be getting frustrated, almost like he brother had figured out him as being the criminal of a murder, or getting his paw stuck in a cookie jar.

   "Um…uh…" Steele mumbled, folding his arms and turning his head to the side, "I don't…know what you're talking about…"

   "Come now, brother," Philippe smiled, "I've known you since you were a pup. I know these things."

   "How do you know that 'I'm in love'? Where did you come up with that?"

   "Oh, I don't know, it just seemed rather odd that you would constantly sneak out just to see her. Mother said you did the same thing back then."

   Damn you brother, you're reading me like an open book, Steele thought, not exactly on par with the way Philippe was talking.

   "So, are you in love with her?" Philippe repeated, clearly pushing his brother's buttons. The malamute thought for a moment, and for some reason, he wasn't sure what to say. He knew in his steel-like heart that Philippe was right. He had somehow known that he was in love, but Steele hadn't even thought of it his relationship with Jenna as love, not really. It was true that he had sort of had feelings for her when he was a pup, but was it not just puppy love, but real, true love? He could remember the tingly feelings when he used to play with her, the strange shakiness in his bones, and his cheeks burning a bright red when she would lick him on the cheek. It was so weird, this feeling, but was it love?

   He had always seen love as being ridiculous, almost fairy-tale like. True love didn't exist, and it was just convenient for him that his fans loved him, but was it true love? It wasn't love that a couple felt; it was mostly out of adoration. But when it came to Jenna, she didn't care about his looks, or his money, or his fame. He hadn't noticed it until now, but he saw when they had first met all those years ago, he had felt love. It was really true love, and he knew it.

   If that was the case, why couldn't he admit it? What was holding him back? Was it his ego? Was it his reputation?

   Of course it is! He thought. His reputation as the "toughest" dog in Paris would certainly be ruined if anyone found out he was in a relationship. Males didn't love! They're sole purpose was to mate with others and produce offspring. True love was for pups and those Romeo and Juliet types!

   At least, that's what his father had told him. For the most part, his father and mother had never really met each other as pups. They were married as soon as they turned 18, just as their parents had planned for them, and because of that, that was the only thing that he knew about love. Philippe had once told him that even though they were married, they really didn't love each other, even if it was said that "love would come to pass after marriage".

   It was different now from this kind of old style of love. The kind of love that seemed to blossom in France, and possibly throughout the entire world, had given everyone a chance to truly express their feelings, to get to know each other, to build good relationships that would last a lifetime. However, this was completely taboo for the young malamute, and he wondered as to why this kind of "lovey-dovey" feeling was gone from his mind.

   "Steele?" Philippe said, as he made his brother come back to reality, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

   "Oh, uh, I don't know," Steele replied quickly, "what do you think?"

   "I think you are in love, Steele." Philippe responded, smiling again, "But you're trying to hide it."

   "Huh? I'm not hiding anything." Steele retorted, "I'm not in love, brother. We're just friends."

   "Then why did you follow her to Perros?