A/N: I can't believe I has this done and was just sitting on this chapter! I'm so sorry! new chappie! enjoy!


Chapter 7: Plans

Erik held his hand toward Meg to help her down the gangplank, Alexander already heading down to the dock, making the couple hurry after him. Alexander stopped at the bottom of the gangplank, waiting for them, pretending to be impatient when they met him at the bottom.

"Took you two long enough," he smirked.

"What about our things?" Meg asked.

"Oh, don't worry about them," he assured her, waving it off before turning to head down the dock. "I'll get them to my place just fine. Come on!"

"His place?" she frowned as Erik pulled her along without a word, making her look to him to ask, "What does he mean his place? You said we had a place to stay."

"Yes, we do," he nodded, following Alexander closely through the bustling crowd on the dock. "He offered up his own home in…Manhattan I believe he called this city. My god, this place is bustling, isn't it?"

"Don't change the subject!" Meg snapped before gasping when he suddenly threw his arms around her to pull her back just as a horse and carriage trotted by, without stopping as Alexander still marched, now on the other side of the street, having crossed when they weren't paying attention. "Alexander! Slow down!"

"We're almost there!" he called from across the street, waving them on. "Hurry up! Don't get run over!"

"Easier said than done," Meg sighed as she and Erik looked around at everyone hurrying around either coming or going. She gasped again when she was shoved by a passer-by and into Erik, who reflexively threw his arms around her to keep her on her feet. "How do we get through this?"

"I take hold of your hand and don't let go," Erik told her, taking her hand in his, tightly before he surged forward, weaving in and out of people and dragging Meg behind him until they had finally caught up with Alexander, who was grinning at them while they caught their breath.

"You get used to it," Alexander smirked, referring to the bustle. "It's like this during the day. Come on. My place is just around this corner."

The group turned down the corner, and Meg pulled closer to Erik as she realized the walkway was littered with undesirables. A homeless man reached out to Alexander when he passed and the captain answered by placing a coin onto his palm. But when a woman tried to persuade him her way, he shooed her away. Erik and Meg needed no other evidence that he was very much used to this sort of thing, and that they would soon become undisturbed by it as he had.

"Up these stairs," he called, leading them to a small flight of stairs that led up to the door of a dark building. He opened the door and entreated them in before him. "It's not much, but I don't use it that often. I prefer to stay on the ship. Sorry I couldn't put you up in better."

Meg stepped through the door first and looked around the small apartment that was no more than a room with a stove in one corner, a cot in another and a table in the center with a couple of chairs.

"Well, this is…quaint," she nodded as Erik stepped in and stared around with wide eyes at the lack of space, but said nothing.

"Very funny, Meg," Alexander shot back. "Look, it's all I can afford on my smuggler's salary—"

"Monsieur, le Capitaine, we are very grateful for your sacrifice," Meg cut in, turning to him and throwing her arms around his neck. "If it weren't for you, we'd be on the street."

Alexander couldn't help but smile as he hugged Meg in return before she pulled back to smile at him.

"She's probably right," Erik nodded. "We have money, but I doubt it's enough for boarding and a meal."

"Well, like I said, I know what it's like," Alexander replied. "I'll be back to check on you after I take care of some things back on the ship. I'll have one of my men bring your things. Someone I trust won't make any trouble for you. I'll be heading out tomorrow morning, so we'll have dinner together tonight, if that's alright?"

"It sounds wonderful," Meg smiled.

Alexander tipped his hat and bowed out of the door, but before he shut it he warned them, "Uh…lock the door when I leave and don't open it for anyone except me or my man. His name is William. I'll have him call out to you before you open the door, alright?"

"Understood," Erik nodded as Meg turned to step farther into the room, Erik stepping toward the door to ask in a whisper, "Perhaps you've left something here we can use to defend ourselves, should the need arise?"

"Well, not that it will," Alexander hoped aloud before adding, "But just in case, there's a pistol in the box under the cot."

"Thank you," Erik nodded before Alexander finally left, shutting the door behind him and he turned to watch Meg stroll around the room, examining her surroundings. "Well, it certainly isn't the dorms at the opera house, but I'm certain you can give it that woman's touch everyone raves about. Meg?"

She had stopped her stroll next to the cot and when he called out to her she sat heavily on it with a small sob. He realized it all must have been sinking in for her…leaving her mother, nearly being found on the ship, and now being so far from everything she knew…she was feeling lonely, he was sure. She gave a few more, quiet sobs, making him step toward her and sit next to her. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to comfort her, but he was going to try anyway. She leaned into his chest as he slid his arms around her, setting his visible cheek on her head and stroking her hair, soothingly.

"I miss mama," she shuddered, nuzzling into his chest.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry I took you away from her. I realize now…it was selfish of me."

"No, I was the selfish one," she argued, gently pushing back to look up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I wanted to go with you and travel…I just didn't think it would be like this. And I know you warned me things would be difficult—"

"You miss your mother, I know," he murmured.

A knock on the door, made them both jump, but when they stood, Erik held Meg's arm to keep her from heading toward it. She frowned at him in wonder when he knelt down to pull a box out from under the bed to open it and pull the pistol from it.

"Erik, how did you—?"

"Alexander told me," he cut in, checking the pistol before looking to her and ordering, "Stay out of sight."

She only nodded and stepped out of sight of the door as he made his way toward the door, holding the pistol out of sight.

"Mr. Deveraux?" a male, Scottish accent called from the other side of the door, making him frown as he gripped the knob of the door.

"Who is it?"

"Captain Newton's man," the voice called again. "William, sir. I have your bags."

Meg sighed in relief but Erik held his hand out to her to keep her where she was as he opened the door to peek out of the gap to find a tall, lanky young man with brown hair on his head and two bags, one in each hand. William looked to Erik with wide eyes, swallowing nervously before Erik opened the door farther and nodded in greeting.

"Your bags, sir," William nodded, holding them out toward him.

After assessing that the young man truly was no threat, he opened the door even farther and looked to Meg with a nod. She hurried toward the door and took the bags from William with a nod of thanks.

"Thank you, William," Erik voiced as Meg set the bags on the cot to open her bag first. "And give your captain our thanks again, for everything."

"Aye, sir," William nodded before heading down the steps at the door and Erik shut it behind him, then turned to Meg as she started unpacking a few things.

"I'm certain you shall sleep well tonight," he smiled, stepping toward the cot to replace the pistol in its box and stuffing it away again. "We shall rest up tonight, and tomorrow we'll come up with a strategy to make money. Perhaps Alexander has some ideas, since he knows the city better than either of us?"

"Perhaps," Meg agreed, focusing on unpacking, sniffling from crying earlier, and Erik felt a stab of guilt when she did, but said nothing as he sat on the bed next to their bags to take his and set it in his lap to look through it. "What have you been working on?"

"Oh, just some designs," he smiled, pulling out a few papers as she set her things aside to sit next to him and look at the bag he was holding.

"Where did you get this bag?" she wondered.

"Alexander gave it to me," he replied, handing it to her to let her examine it. "He said he doesn't use it anymore, and since I had so many papers, he thought I could use it more than he has."

"Your first possession in America," Meg smiled, making him chuckle, softly before taking the bag and handing her the papers he was holding. "Oh, your designs?"

"Yes, and I'd like to know what you think," he replied, pulling the rest of the papers from the bag as she did.

They were both silent as Meg kept her focus on the designs and Erik watched her, wondering if she could guess what it was he'd designed.

"Is this…?" she breathed as she trailed off for a moment, making Erik smile. "This is a…theatre?"

"Precisely," Erik beamed, shifting closer to her to look at it over her shoulder. "It's no Opera Populare in it's design, I'm sure. For example, the entranceway will be, what I would like to call The Hall of Mirrors."

"Interesting," she nodded, still looking over his drawings. "I'm amazed you drew these from a blank page! You truly are the genius mother said you were."

"You doubted me?" Erik smirked, making her look up at him with wide eyes.

"No, of course not! I only meant—"

His smirk grew slightly as she cut herself off, realizing he was teasing her again.

"You're terrible for teasing me so," she shot out, turning back to his drawings as he chuckled and leaned closer to her, looking over her shoulder.

"This is the basic architecture of the building," he explained. "For the décor…I thought you might have some ideas."

"Oh, I'm no designer, Erik," she smiled, sweetly, then noticed, "But…you're speaking about this as if you actually plan on having this built."

"Well, of course I do," he replied, matter-of-factly, meeting her gaze with a frown when she looked up at him in wonder. "Didn't I tell you my plan?"

"No," she drawled with a shake of her head. "You mentioned a plan but you never told me about it."

"Well, mon petit, my plan is to have this theatre built, and have the ballet I wrote performed for its grand opening," he reported, simply.

"And where shall we get the money for this grand plan of yours, Monsieur Deveraux?" she retorted.

"Well, Mademoiselle Giry, that is what we will discuss tomorrow," he shot back. "For now, we should find something to eat for supper tonight."

"Alexander and I can go to the market when he returns," Meg suggested.

"I don't like that idea," Erik objected, making her sigh in exasperation. "I shall go with Alexander, and whatever shopping needs to be done, I shall do it."

"Erik, you cannot keep me cloistered up here for the entirety of the time we're here," she argued, handing his drawing back to him. "We may be saying we are married, but we are not. And even if we were, I would not expect being locked up here while you go and do the shopping…something a woman is expected to do anyway."

"Well, I'm certain Alexander would agree with me. And whether you like it or not, we are only trying to protect you. At the very least, we can do the shopping together, if you would like that any better."

"That is far more acceptable. Thank you."

Erik scoffed as he replaced the papers into his bag as Meg watched him for a moment.

"Was there anything else you wanted me to help you with in these plans of yours?" she smiled.

"I think you would be brilliant with the choreography for the ballet," he replied, making her smile widen. "But we should wait to talk about that later on. For now, clear off your bed."

"My bed?" she frowned in wonder as he stood to set his bag on the table. "Are we not sharing the bed? Where will you sleep?"

"I'll be sleeping on the floor," he reported, making her narrow her gaze at him.

"I'm having a sense of déjà vu," she confessed.

"Yes, but I believe this discussion will go far differently than the last," he smirked, confidently. "Because there is not enough room on that cot for the both of us. There is hardly enough room on that cot for your tiny body."

"I'll take the compliment, but I think we can both fit," she insisted, making him look at her in evaluation as she resumed unpacking her things. When he said nothing, she looked up at him in wonder to find him staring at her and making her frown. "What?"

"I thought we weren't married," he smirked, making her look away from him when she felt her cheeks start to flare with a blush.

"Well…I just thought that, even if we are squeezed onto a small bed, it's still more comfortable than the hard floor," she muttered, swallowing hard when she noticed him stroll toward her and stand in front of her, folding his arms as he stared down at her.

"Why do I have a feeling there's more to your reasons than you're leading on?" he smirked, and she glanced up at him but quickly looked away again.

"There may be," she confessed in a mutter, finding a thread on her skirt to pick at, absently. "I think…I've become fond of having my protector so close to me."

His smirk fell to a stare of astonishment as she kept her gaze on the thread she was picking at, afraid to look up at him and see the look on his face. She chewed on her lower lip as she kept her gaze down, but he could still see the blush over her cheeks.

"Well," he sighed, but she still didn't look at her. "I suppose I have no other choice then, when you put it that way, mon petit."

Meg couldn't help but give a small smile and Erik noticed, making him smirk before he turned to placing his papers across the table to look them over. She went back to unpacking, refolding a few things on her lap and organizing them over the bed, glancing at him a few times as he made corrections on his drawings. She was sure he was going to laugh at her for saying something like that, and as outspoken as she was at times, when it came to him, she couldn't always find it in herself to voice something as simple as the fact that she liked being held by him. He knew she cared for him, but she was sure he didn't know to what extent…and even she wasn't sure of that, herself.


Meanwhile, Back in France...

Christine stared out the carriage window, forlornly as Raoul sat across from her, Madame Giry next to her. The carriage was taking them to Calais, where they would board a ship that would take them to America. They would start in New York, and then, as Raoul had put it: 'Not rest until the entire country was searched.'

He hadn't wanted Christine to come, but she had insisted, for Madame Giry's sake, since he had convinced the older woman to be there for her daughter when they found them. However, there was more to Christine's reason for wanting to go along. She had hoped that, in the event they did find her Angel, that she could warn he and Meg before Raoul was able to get to them, keeping everyone from harm, and eventually, she was sure Raoul would give up.

At least, she hoped.

"Honestly, Christine, you didn't have to come," Raoul grumbled, shifting in his seat and catching her attention. "This will all be settled in a week or so. You could have stayed at the chateau."

"We are not married, yet, Raoul," Christine shot back, making him shoot a wide-eyed stare of disbelief at her as she looked back out the window. "I won't sit about like a housewife while you go…hunting, as you put it. I may do as I like."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he muttered, nearly pouting as he turned to his window. "Still, this sort of endeavor should not be undertaken by a bride-to-be…or a lady for that matter."

"Nor a respectable viscount, I would imagine," Madame Giry piped up, making him glare at her.

"May I remind you, Madame, that I am on my way to rescue your daughter from this monster—?"

"Do not think for a moment, Monsieur le Vicomte, that you can bully me any further," Antoinette cut in, angrily, drawing Raoul's wide-eyed stare at her as she glared at him and Christine looked to her in shock as well. "I betrayed Erik to you at the opera house, I have betrayed him once more by telling you where he has gone only for the love of my daughter, but I will not betray him again. And furthermore, when we reach the boat, you are to have two rooms arranged, and Christine and I will be sharing one."

"Well, of course—"

"Oh, good, I thought for certain you would argue the point," Antoinette retorted.

She was done being pushed around by men. Erik had taken her daughter, and now Raoul had played on her love for her daughter in order to find out where they'd gone. That was the last time he would get anything out of her, and she would be damned if he treated Christine the same way. She would be speaking to the young woman very frankly once they reached the ship.


A/N: reviews?