Two weeks after… whatever it was that had happened between he and Anya, Erik had not gone to see her once. He had not dared look through the two-way mirror after what had happened the last time, so deeply ashamed was he at his lack of control. There he had been, with an entire world of possibility lying in bed under him, saying his name as though it were the only name in the world, and he didn't even have the self control to claim it! It was a sign that she simply was not his to be claimed, Erik had decided. No matter how many sweet, sweet nights she entered his dreams since then, he knew he could not stand to see her again in the flesh after what had happened.

But those dreams! If that night could have been half as breathtaking as those dreams, Erik was a fool indeed. A part of him hated those dreams, and wished he could never fall asleep again and avoid their mockery forever… but a part of him longed for their arrival every night, when he could taste Anya's soft, sweet flesh again and no shame would come, only more softness and sweetness, more of his name wrapped in velvety longing.

Erik had not so much as left the house for supplies for those two weeks for fear of meeting her on accident or some other horrible circumstance he could not avoid, but was finally growing desperate. He was down to his very last bottle of wine, and all of the bread had molded. It was time to venture into the aboveground again or rot, and no matter how many times he had promised the shadows that he welcomed the day he could finally lay down and rest permanently, now was not his time to rot.

He was gone for well over an hour and returned with arms full of goods, including a pay slip for several dresses he decided to have made for Anya. As lovely as the gown she took had been, it simply was not made for her. He knew she would likely never have an opportunity to wear the dresses he had purchased considering Erik planned on avoiding her like a leper, but he felt it was appropriate to have them about just in case fantasies come true. He scolded himself quietly for ever thinking such a hopeful thought, knowing it would come back someday to bite him in the ass. Every glimmer of hope he had held always did.

A muffled noise from the direction of the torture chamber drew Erik's attention to the flashing light indicating that the chamber had a resident. Normally, the little flashing light was a pleasant thing; it meant perhaps some wine and entertainment. But since meeting Anya, he had not so much as squashed a flea. Now the little flashing light meant a choice – Ignore it and let the victim within hang himself from madness, or rescue the poor blighter and risk everything. Cautiously, Erik ventured up the steps to peer in through the small window.

Upon seeing a dark skinned man inside, slumped against the tree that held Erik's Punjab lasso, Erik relaxed visibly. Erik could safely let the man go without risk to his secrets. Pushing the button to turn off the contraption, Erik moved down the stairs to meet Nadir Khan in the Louise-Phillipe bedroom. The man looked as weary as if he had spent a month in the desert, but spoke viciously.

"God damn you Erik! Why the hell must you toy with me so? I came alone!"

"You flatter yourself, Daroga. I wasn't in the house or I would have let you out sooner," Erik promised, gesturing to the sacks of supplies on the dining room table just outside the door as he went to fetch the man a glass of water from the kitchen. Nadir drank deeply holding his head a moment; the torture chamber could warp even the soundest of minds, such as Nadir's. For a moment he had quite forgotten he was not in the African jungle and why he had needed to call upon Erik at all.

Suddenly he remembered. "Where is she, Erik?"

A brow raised under the porcelain mask. "Where is who? Surely you don't mean Mademoiselle Daae. I assume she moved with her Beau to England, or to some quiet little country home far away from any Opera Houses," he remarked bitterly while Nadir roamed the house as if looking for something.

"Not Mademoiselle Daae, though I shall hang you like I should have decades ago if I find you are toying with that poor girl again. Madam Chekov."

Erik's heart sank. "Anya is missing?"

Nadir froze and looked to the man, surprised by the sound of concern in his voice. "For nearly twenty four hours now. I was alerted when she did not attend rehearsal last night. You mean to tell me you have nothing to do with it?"

"I may more than I would care to, Daroga," he said sorrowfully, moving to grab his cloak and opening the wall out to the lake.

"What do you mean by that?" Demanded Nadir, following the taller man out into the little boat that would carry them across the lake. "She said you kidnapped her once before, Erik, but that the pair of you were friends now. What have you done?"

"I swear on my life, that is the only moment I have ever been foolish enough to wish harm on her. But I am afraid she may have come looking for me and brought harm on herself. I have not seen her for two weeks, on my word."

"It isn't uncommon for you to lock yourself away for weeks on end. Why should she come looking for you?"

Erik floundered some uncomfortably. "I… we… The last time I saw her… We kiss. Oh Daroga, and what glorious kisses they were! She even asked me if she could kiss me, can you imagine? The more I reflect on it the more I would be certain it was all a dream if it had not been for-"

"Allah, Erik, there times I'm not certain if you're fifty or fifteen. Out with it. What did you do to that poor girl?"

Large yellow eyes glared at the man from beneath the mask. "It is not what I did to her but rather what she did to me. I… was a little 'overzealous', as she sweetly put it, and finished the matter well before it had even started."

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Nadir could not help but laugh. "Oh, Erik! You poor man! I do believe all of mankind has been in your place once or twice, myself included. I am terribly sorry that I laugh… what is it the Germans call it? Shad… Shah something?"

"Schadenfreude," Erik informed him with a glare.

"That's the phrase, schadenfreude! Well, you've been saying for years how you longed to be normal. There you have it, my friend. Women have that way sometimes," Nadir chuckled at the hilarity of the man's misfortune before sobering up at a sudden realization. "Wait. You would not lie to me about something so embarrassing… you mean to say she actually..?"

"Let me kiss her. Yes, Daroga, and more! And she was delighted by it! She was as soft and supple as a ripe peach, and just as sweet to taste! Her neck was the sweetest, but just above those small, beautiful breasts is where she said my name. My name! And how she breathed it as though it were the only name in all the world! Almost as though it were sacred. Oh how I adored Christine, but Daroga! If Christine was the air I breathed, Anya is the blood in my veins, my very life!"

"I thought you detested ballerinas, Erik. I would be wary if I were you. Many a man has mistaken the draw of his loins for something more. Simply because she might actually bed you does not mean it is love, my friend," Nadir cautioned. "Remember that poor girl-"

"From the harem. How could I forget, Daroga?" A girl who's career it was to bed men had chosen death rather than to lay with him. It was a memory that would haunt him his entire life, without a doubt. But Anya! Anya had not be so afraid. Her nature was bolder than any of the women in Persia, except perhaps the women in power.

But she has not seen your face! Nagged the little voice in his brain. Once she sees how terrifying you are, she won't ever touch you again. Consider that your first and last release on top of a woman.

Erik was silent as the boat touched shore. Nadir moved out clumsily while Erik stepped with grace onto the shore to tie the boat before moving off into the darkness.

"I take it we're searching for the girl, but where exactly are we to begin looking. You built a labyrinth fit for a Greek epic, Erik."

"She knows the way for about two hundred yards. We start there and work our way down."

"And if we get separated?"

"Then I suppose I will have to come and find you too. But be warned, I will be looking for her first," Erik told him, and Nadir nodded; he could survive a few days in the cold damp of Erik's world, but the girl had already been missing for at least a day, and was without a doubt a less hearty breed.

For three hours they searched, starting as close up to the theatre as Erik dared to tread while calling out for her. They searched every dead end there was, in spite of Erik's terror that they would find her at the end covered in rats and rot. Finally as the third hour drew to a close, they found her. After hours of calling out for her with no response, finally a small sound returned their calls. Nadir could not pinpoint the origin of the sound, but followed Erik as he ran down a passage, stopping as a wall rose before him with a shivering damp mass sat at its feet. Erik fell to his knees beside her and immediately wrapper her in his cloak, wishing he had brought something warmer for her; winter was fast approaching, and while it was never quite freezing in the cellars it could get quite close, and the moisture and cold had killed before.

"You're here," Anya whispered hoarsely before coughing deeply as Erik pulled her into his arms. "I thought you were going to leave me…"

"Why would you ever think such a thing, ma chère?" Soothed Erik as he picked her up. Nadir removed his coat and draped it over the girl in Erik's arms.

"I'll go ahead and call the medics-"

"No," snapped Erik. "There isn't time, and if you get lost she will only get worse. We will bring her to my house. I have enough blankets and a fire."

With great hesitation, Nadir nodded his agreement and moved with them further down into the cellars.

"You told me you could hear everything that happens. When I got lost I called for you, but you never came. I thought maybe you were still upset about…"

"I am, ma chère, but not at you. Never at you," Erik promised. "I can only hear everything in the Opera when I am listening. I simply was not listening is all. I would never, ever leave you like this," he swore, and Anya coughed again.

"If she's caught pneumonia she'll need a physician," Nadir insisted, and Erik shook his head.

"It isn't pneumonia yet, it's only the damp. And a physician couldn't do any more for her than I could," Erik countered, finally finding the boat at the edge of the lake. "I am not certain it will hold all three of us. It is a tight fit."

Nadir nodded. "Take her across and set her by the fire, come back for me only when she is out of danger," he insisted, and Erik nodded his gratitude as he set Anya in the boat carefully and rowed them across. Gently he picked up the shivering bundle and carried her inside, laying her on the divan while he piled pillows onto the floor in front of the fireplace and lit the fire within, opening the flue to let the smoke out into the world above. He carefully laid Anya out on the pillows and covered her in every blanket he owned

"Ma chère, will you be all right while I fetch the Daroga?"

"You're going to come back, aren't you?" she whispered, turning away from the fire to look up at him.

Against his better judgment, Erik leaned over her and pressed his lips against hers, gently. "Of course I am. Try to rest, I will be back before long," he promised, quickly moving back out to the boat to fetch Nadir as quickly as possible.

Nadir breathed a sigh of relief when Erik reached the shore. "She is all right?"

"Not yet, but I believe she will be. She was still shivering when we found her, which is a good sign; men beyond saving give up even on shivering," Erik told his friend, who nodded as he stepped into the boat.

"And her cough?"

"She wasn't coughing when I left, but I am going to make a broth when we return just in case."

They stepped inside the house, which was already warming considerably from the fire in the fireplace. Erik moved to check on Anya, and satisfied with her condition moved into the kitchen to make a broth from vegetables and chicken bones. Nadir moved to check on the woman and found her sleeping deeply, wrapped tight in blankets and no longer shaking. He couldn't help but wonder at her loveliness as she slept. She was thin, he remembered from meeting her, but her cheeks were full and healthy unlike so many of the ballerinas in France, and her lips were as full and soft as her cheeks. It was easy to see why Erik was attracted to the woman… but what drew such a lovely woman to Erik? He was mentally and physically deformed.

Nadir moved into the kitchen and watched as his old friend put chicken bones into a pot. "She's lovely, Erik."

"Isn't she, though? You ought to see her smile! She is a work of art, Daroga. A living, breathing work of art. To watch her dance… it's like watching poetry in motion."

"Erik, I'm worried about you. You… have a certain penchant for pretty women. For beauty in general, Erik. Who can blame you? But you also… have a tendency to misread people. You don't understand mankind well enough to-"

"To what, Daroga?" Erik demanded with a glare. "Actually be in love? For someone to fall in love with me? She kissed me, Nadir. SHE kissed ME. And maybe it didn't mean anything, but then she kissed me again… I can't explain it. It wasn't like when Christine kissed me. There was heat, passion even… longing in her touch. I don't understand it any more than you do, Daroga. But it is the truth."

Nadir sighed some and nodded. "She did seem glad to see you."

"She did, didn't she? She's going to be all right," Erik told himself more than the Persian. "I'll take you back up to the surface,"

The Persian man frowned. "I would rather stay until she's well, if you don't mind."

"You don't trust me alone with her!" Erik accused angrily.

"Can you blame me, Erik?"

"I can! When have I ever harmed a woman, as long as you've known me? Oh I have wanted to, and many times I have come painfully close, but never since you've known me have I harmed a woman!"

"And the little Italian girl you told me of? Who fell from a roof at the sight of your face? What of her, Erik?"

"That was an accident!" Erik told him, anguished. "A horrible, horrible accident. I would never let such a thing happen again. Please, Daroga. She is going to be sleeping for a while, and I would rather not put up with your incessant prying while she does."

After a long moment of hesitation, the Daroga finally nodded. "All right. But I will be at the Opera first thing in the morning. If she is nowhere to be seen by then, I will be back."

"I assure you Daroga, she will be back where she belongs by morning. Giselle debuts in two weeks, she cannot afford to miss rehearsals."

With that promise, Erik returned Nadir to the streets of Paris through it catacombs as quickly as he could to return to Anya in as little time as possible. An hour after he left her side he returned to find her sitting upright, staring into the fire still swathed in blankets. Erik immediately moved to her side, inspecting her closely for signs of fever.

"How do you feel, Anya? You should be sleeping."

"Cold, but better," she promised with a quiet smile. "Where is Monsieur Khan? I thought you left to fetch him?"

"I did, and I returned him to the surface while you were sleeping," Erik explained.

"Was I asleep so long? I thought I had only closed my eyes for a minute."

"Not too long, two hours or so at the most," Erik stood and vanished into the kitchen, returning with a steaming bowl of broth and vegetables. "I had thought you would be sleeping for longer, it probably isn't very flavorful yet. But it will warm you."

"Thank you, Erik," She smiled accepting the bowl and blowing on it gently before taking a sip of the hot liquid, already feeling warmer. "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble. I just… wanted to make sure you weren't upset with me. About what happened."

"I promise, my upset is not with you," Erik told her quietly. "It was my own fault."

"It wasn't anybody's fault, Erik. These things happen. I was… a little flattered by it, actually. I haven't… aroused a man like that in a long time," she whispered, taking another sip of the broth. Erik longed to tell her it was not the first time she had aroused him, nor the last, but he thought better of it.

"Why don't I draw you a bath? It will help warm you even better than the fire."

Anya nodded. "That sounds wonderful, actually. Thank you."

Erik dismissed her thanks with a wave and moved into the bathroom of the Louise-Phillipe bedroom to heat a bath for her, adding salts and oils he imported from the Middle East to soothe her. Before too long he returned to the fireside and took her empty bowl. "The bath is ready for you. There is a towel by the bath and clothes in the wardrobe. I had the dress you left before cleaned, it is in the wardrobe as well," he told her, wishing he had purchased her gowns a few days prior so she might have something that fit besides her drab garments from her prior visit. Anya stood and smiled to him with another quiet thank you, moving past him into the bedroom still wrapped in blankets.

A small part of her wanted to ask if he would join her, but she thought better of it and closed the door quietly behind her. A small part of Erik wished she would have asked.