Nadir looked up from the book he was reading and gazed out the window at the bright moon that hung so low in the sky. It was stunning, really. Perfectly circular and a pale yellow... with a strange shadow by its bottom.

Nadir did a double take.

Far off in the distance, a horse was approaching, riding swiftly through the forest. Whatever it was carrying was blurry and hard to distinguish; as it neared, it became obvious that one shape was a man, and the other... a blob.

The chair creaked as its occupant rose. Stretching his sore muscles, Nadir moved towards the stairs to greet his guest at the door. He had his suspicions on who it might be, but then again, it was never a good idea to assume.

By the time he had descended the stairs and opened the door, his suspicions had been confirmed. Ah, Erik. I should have known for sure. Nadir poked his head out as Cesar and his load came to a stop directly in front of his house.

How curious... That appears not to be a blob, but rather a person. And quite a beautiful person she was. Erik swung down off Cesar's side and lifted the girl gently up, cradling her carefully to his chest before striding into Nadir's home.

"What, no hello? Really, Erik, I would have hoped your manners had improved by now." Nadir flashed a good natured grin at Erik as he walked behind him. Erik swirled around to face him. He was instantly taken aback by his expression.

Erik's eyes were frenzied; the look of a desperate man had never been so obvious to Nadir. There were no gaping wounds on Erik, so it obviously had something to do with the girl in his arms.

Pushing himself off of the door he had been resting against, Nadir strode over to Erik and gestured to the couch, offering a place to rest the mystery girl.

"This must be Christine, I assume?"

Erik looked surprised. "Yes, yes she is. How... how did you know?"

Nadir chuckled. "Please, Erik, she's the only thing you ever talk about. When you first started obsessing over a little ballerina named Christine, I was the first to know. You were offered plenty of girls in Persia, but rejected them all. The girl you fell for had to be truly special, and this is obviously a special girl." Erik's unmasked cheek turned a pale shade of pink.

Leaving Erik to wallow in his embarrassment, Nadir turned to Christine, who had been taking the scene in with an expression akin to bemusement dancing on her face. "So, Christine, why are you swathed in a blanket and riding a horse with a madman?" Christine chuckled in response.

Erik's hand landed on Nadir's shoulder. "Nadir... Normally, I enjoy your jokes, but we actually have a problem."

"Oh! Well, Christine, how far along are you?"

Both Erik and Christine's faces morphed into identical expressions of shock. Erik seemed completely dumbfounded, but Christine managed to stutter a few excuses out. "Err, um... that is... no... we haven't," Christine blushed fiercely; "I'm not pregnant."

"Oh? Then what is it? I assume your problem requires my medical skills. Erik rarely ever visits just for a cup of tea and a chat. Terribly rude." His dark eyes scanned Christine for any visible damage – Erik still hadn't recovered well enough to tell him the problem- and his eyes landed on the puncture wound on her neck. Nadir took a step back and his grin dropped to a look of horror "Erik... please tell me that wasn't made by a dart."

The mournful golden eyes answered the question for him.

In an instant, Nadir switched to autopilot doctor mode. "Have you sucked out the poison? When did it happen? How much did she get in her system? Has she been exhibiting any symptoms of shock? Did she faint? Has she eaten? What type of poison was it?"

Snapped back into reality, Erik rambled off his responses; "Yes, a few hours ago, only a little, she's been concerned with irrational things, yes, no, root of aconitum."

"She fainted?"

"Yes, immediately after the dart hit her she fainted, and then I sucked some of the poison out. I brought her back to my home, and when she awoke, we had to save her cat. Afterwards, I recommended she take a bath, and she agreed, but while she was taking one she started having some kind of fit where she lost most motor ability and most of her speech abilities. I dried her off; I wrapped her up in that blanket, and then I brought her here."

"Hm. You did the right thing, but those symptoms are troubling," Nadir poked the swollen area with a finger. "I'll be back with an antidote."

He stood up to leave, but Christine's hand shot out and gripped his arm, interrupting him; "Um, well, this isn't the first time that I've had a fit like the one in the bathtub. It was the worst one I've ever had, but not the first."

"You mean, before having the poison introduced into your system?"

"Yes. There were two, ah, different kinds of fits I would have. In one, I would just get really tired and fall asleep pretty much wherever I was, but the other was more similar to this one. I would lose control of my muscles and be unable to move very much -but still a little- and my speech would become a bit slurred but I could still talk more than I could this time. They all also lasted for a much shorter period of time than this bathtub incident." Christine shuddered at the memory.

Thoughts trailing away, the good doctor began pacing slowly, stroking his beard before grabbing a thick book off the shelf to his right. He began flipping through, muttering to himself under his breath. Pages fluttered to and fro between his fingers.

After about five minute off this process, Nadir lifted his head and gazed at Christine. "Well, I think I know what you have."

Christine leaned forward, curious as to her strange ailment. "Well Daroga? Spit it out!" Erik's angry snarl jerked Christine's head to the side, giving him an irritated glare for interrupting.

"Oh Erik, as polite as always." Nadir's eyes twinkled as he chastised his friend. "It would appear you have narcolepsy, and cataplexy to boot."

"Daroga, in terms we can understand!"

"Patience, Erik. Narcolepsy is a disorder where the patient cannot resist falling asleep. No matter how much they fight the urge to fall asleep, their muscle movements slow and eventually they have to submit. These episodes usually occur during the day, and can sometimes be set off by strong emotions."

"So, that's the first type of fit I get?"

"Yes, Christine, it is. The second is called cataplexy, which is a condition most people who have narcolepsy also have. Instead of falling asleep instantly when experiencing a strong emotion, patients lose control of parts of their body -usually specific muscle groups- and sometimes speech becomes slurred as well. I'd say that because of the additional stress that the poison exerted on your body, an episode was more easily triggered and was more severe and lasted longer than previous ones because your body was too weak to fight it."

Christine drooped her forehead into her hands and groaned. Why oh why was she stuck with the most bizarre diseases? A disease that made her SLEEP too much? Honestly? Of all the rotten luck...

"Will any... happenings in the future be as bad as this one?" She croaked.

"Doubtful. They might be a bit worse than before, but they shouldn't be quite as bad as this time. I DO recommend taking extra precautions now that you know the problem you have, though. It would be a wise idea to tell any close friends what you have so that if they see the signs, they can make sure you get to safety before passing out or losing control. Understand? Be sure to get somewhere out of harm's way as fast as possible if you feel one coming on too. You don't want to pass out in the middle of a seedy area of Paris."

Christine nodded her head glumly while Erik stared moodily off into space. Nadir sensed that nothing else was going to get done. "Christine, your body has been exhausted by the trauma it's been through. There's a guest room upstairs and to the left; you can sleep in there. I'll find you something, more suitable to wear in the meantime. Blankets aren't really the best attire, you see." Christine blushed heavily before thanking him and scurrying up the stairs with Nadir and Erik following close behind.

Instead of following Christine to the left, Nadir veered right and headed into his own room. Opening his closet, he quickly found a loose pair of pants and a shirt for his blanket-clad friend. He swirled around to a small cabinet, opened the drawer and pulled out a small vial and a glass.

Nadir walked down the hallway to Christine's room and tossed her the clothes, which she gratefully accepted. He set the vial and glass down on the nightstand next to the bed. "Drink this, and then wash it down with a full glass of water. After that, all you can do is rest and wait for the poison to be completely worked out of your system. I wish you a speedy recovery."

Christine nodded, so her good doctor exited the room to give her some much needed peace.

Erik was pacing the length of Nadir's room when he returned. Back and forth, side to side, a continuous motion as he wrung his hands in frustration or anxiety.

Nadir settled himself in the chair he had been reading in earlier. "Erik," he began gently, in an effort to calm his friend, "she'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about. I'm amazed at what good care you gave her from the start. The poison's effects could have been much more damaging had you not sprung into action so quickly."

Erik spun to face him, his eyes blazing; "Ha! I know that's not true; don't try to fool me daroga. You said yourself that the symptoms were, ah, troubling." He resumed his pacing.

"Well, that was before I discovered she had narcolepsy. Having someone lose motor ability due solely to poison is much worse than from a combination of a disorder and poison." Nadir pushed himself up. His arms wrapped around Erik, hugging him tightly. "Really, Erik, you did the right thing. Especially by bringing her here."

The gesture surprised Erik; however, when he looked at the offending party he could not help but feel his heart soften under the warmth of Nadir's friendship.

Nadir pulled out of the embrace and looked Erik directly in the face. "Look, Erik, I want to talk to you about Christine..."

Down the hall, Christine was feeling quite energetic and unwilling to go nap.

So, she decided to go exploring.

Her host's house was filled with interesting things. The library she had been in was full of musty books with bright bindings, the room she was supposed to be sleeping in was full of carved statues and woven baskets, and the hallways were adorned with festive woven tapestries.

Hoping to get a closer look at those hangings, Christine ventured out into the hallway.

She had only started examining a banner with a very curious looking elephant with enormous ears that appeared to be flying on it when she heard voices drifting up from a room down the hall... and her name was one of the words mentioned.

Well, curiosity was a terrible character flaw for her, so why not indulge it?

Crouched beside the closed door, Christine kept her ear against the wall for any further tidbits.

Erik blinked back his surprise at Nadir's question. "Well, what do you want to know?"

The Persian sighed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "For starters, it would be obvious to anyone with eyes that you care about her; even if you hadn't told me I would have known. How much do you care about her?"

"More than my own life. I thought that would have been obvious to anyone with eyes."

"What was it about her that drew you in? How did you come to know her?" There was a genuine note of curiosity in Nadir's voice.

"One day, she was pulled into the opera house for some reason; I don't know why. She began singing, and I swear, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard. I would still say so, but her voice becomes even richer as time passes." Erik's eyes took on a glazed over, dreamy quality.

A quick snap of fingers next to his ear tore him from his daydream. "That explains how she became acquainted with the Palais Garnier, not how she became acquainted with you."

"Ah, yes. Well, I may have, um, had her relocated to a room where there's this handy dandy mirror that also just happens to be a one way window... I taught her late at night from behind there." As an afterthought, Erik tacked on, "I swear, it was completely appropriate! I wasn't some peeping Tom; I just wanted to teach her. It was purely professional. Nothing wrong. She never even saw me until a few days ago."

Undeterred by Erik's defensiveness, Nadir continued on. "Well, maybe it'll be a little bit more than purely professional in the future. She's still young and likely naive, but you've been interested in only her for the past six years. I highly doubt you saw someone who might fall in love with you when she was not even in her teens yet, yet now you surely have some kind of feelings for her."

"I've never... seriously allowed myself to consider the possibility that she could. I know that I can only be a companion, a guide, a tutor. That doesn't matter to me though, because teaching her does give me what caught my attention -the chance to hear her sing. I've been training her voice for the past six years." Erik switched his weight to the other leg and scratched the back of his head before he continued. "Anyway, I overheard her describing her 'secret admirer' to little Meg Giry. She has someone else in her life. Someone who could never be me."

In Nadir's brain, all of his thoughts began colliding with each other to create a tangled web of confusion. He had seen the look in Christine's eyes when she looked at Erik; it was a gaze of pure devotion. From the way she acted, she didn't seem like a floozy; Nadir doubted that the young singer had multiple men in her pocket. Maybe Erik's just overreacting... "How did she describe him?"

"Well, she changed between blond and brown hair, said she thought that he was tall, and said he knew of her singing ability. Apparently very well." His fists clenched and unclenched unconsciously. "Hmph! As if he could know that as well as me, her tutor..."

Deep peals of laughter burst from Nadir. Oh! How blind Erik is! "Erik, you know you are a very jealous man, yes?"

Erik's lips curled a tad. "Yes, Nadir, now what of it? I hate it when you start stalling."

"Well, she changed between brown and blond hair?"

"Yes," came the curt reply.

"Then, my friend, she didn't know what color his hair was. It is impossible to tell what color one's hair is when they hide behind a mirror and they haven't ever seen said person until very recently."

When Nadir glanced over his shoulder, he realized that Erik was doing a very accurate impression of a fish: his mouth was hanging wide open and was closing and reopening in very small bursts. He couldn't suppress another laugh. "And she thinks he's tall. She doesn't know he's tall. I'm also certain that you know quite well that her singing abilities are profound, based upon what you've said.

The fish impression still hadn't stopped. Nadir shook his head and continued. "You know, Erik, you're very much like a bat. Do you know why?"

Erik finally shut his mouth and swapped to glaring at Nadir instead. "Because I like the dark, people think I'm disgusting, and I frighten many people despite being relatively harmless MOST of the time?"

"Close, but not quite. You're as blind as a bat. However, instead of that coming from a dependence on echolocation, it stems from extreme jealousy which renders you incapable of seeing what's right in front of your face. Christine cares about you; she was describing you to her friend Marguerite Giry."

"Bats aren't actually blind," Erik pouted. "Wait... I said Meg Giry, how did you know her full name was Marguerite?"

"Ah, no reason." Nadir gulped.

"Been poking around the Opera House for Antionette again, have we?" Nadir gulped again. A nasty glint appeared in Erik's eyes. "You old rascal!"

Outside the door, Christine was working very hard to stifle her giggles. Nadir and Antionette? The ballet instructor really did deserve someone special in her life, and Nadir seemed like such a sweet and knowledgeable man.

Beyond that... she had a lot to contemplate.

First, was ridding herself of the worry of correcting Erik over his assumptions about her 'secret admirer'. Sometimes he became ridiculous -really, nothing screamed secret admirer like the flowers he left in her room without a note- her sentiments had seemed apparent to her. Oh, sure, she'd have to correct her mistake at some point –otherwise he could get paranoid again-, but it would take a great deal less convincing on her part.

Secondly, as much as Erik praised her voice during lessons, it never hurt to hear the point reinforced. The fact that he had such faith in her voice was amazing; she couldn't understand how one who was so used to beautiful music could still be shocked by her voice. She knew she could sing well... but she didn't know she could do so THAT well.

Finally, Erik's feelings about her were the most confusing and stressful part. Erik obviously had some –misplaced- self confidence issues. Then again, that small glimpse she had gotten of his face without his mask could have something to do with that. It certainly didn't fit the conventional standard of beauty, but Christine felt it had no effect on her impression of Erik as a person –then again, she hadn't gotten much more than a fraction of a second to see it. However, it did make her rather angry that what was under there forced him to stay in the shadows with a mask covering his face… he had been nothing but perfectly kind towards her, but everywhere else she went she heard rumors about the horrors the Opera Ghost had committed. She was positive that all of those rumors couldn't be true –really, there was no way that Erik had been caught smooching Carlotta and then started flapping his cape and flying to escape (although she could see why discovering anyone kissing Carlotta would have been considered a horror). Her heart fluttered a little bit at the thought of Erik. She would be the first to admit that she had harbored a small crush towards her teacher, even without seeing him. He just sounded so regal and he gave her gifts, trained her, comforted her, protected her, and just valued her enough to waste his time on her. In her opinion, it was clear that he was the special one.

She was torn from her thoughts by the mention of her name again.

Back inside, Nadir was beginning to move past pleasantries to the topic he found most important.

"I'm glad to see how much she means to you. I genuinely think that you two can work out, despite whatever reservations you have." He gave Erik a good natured clap on the back, before sighing. "But, if I saw so quickly how important you consider her, then others will be able to spot it almost as fast." His voice softened and he spoke more quietly. "You still have a lot of enemies to be wary of. Especially from your past…"

"You needn't remind me of my past, daroga, I know the monster that I am. I spent my days slaughtering innocents for the Khanum's pleasure. Trap doors and torture rooms… some of my experience is still evident in the traps surrounding my home, as you know." His face contorted as he remembered Christine's recent encounter with the excesses of his dark side. "However, that will be changing soon…"

"Does Christine know of your past?"

"Of course not! The less she knows the less anyone will be concerned with her. The Shah tried to have me poisoned because I knew many of his political secrets… if he thinks that I told her, he would find and kill her without a second's hesitation. It's still a miracle that I escaped."

Nadir rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes… I see your point about the Shah's suspicions. However, that doesn't mean you can hide entirely from your past. You murdered –for your own safety, but still-, and were involved –unwillingly- in many plans of one of the darkest men I know of. I think it would be best if-"

"Daroga, thank you for your advice, but I will handle that matter on my own. I will decide when I am comfortable telling her. Not you."

"Relax, Erik." He really can get so paranoid sometimes. "I wasn't going to demand you tell her now. I was merely going to suggest that you tell her at some point. After all, she needs to have some degree of knowledge to keep an eye out for any possible danger. Do you not agree?"

"I absolutely do not! Her knowledge puts her in more danger!" Erik finally lost his self control and punched a wall.

"You would put her in danger by keeping her ignorant? Again, I don't mean to say she ought to know everything, but something is better than nothing."

Erik sighed, he sounded like a professor whose student was attempting to correct him; "You see, the flaw in your logic lies in the assumption that I will have contact with anyone from Persia –present company excluded- again. If no one comes looking for me, then there will be no danger. And no one will come looking for me! It's been many years since I lived in Persia, and many of those who knew me are either dead or dying! If the Shah hasn't been able to find me for years, there is no reason that he will now. Both Christine and I are perfectly safe. I resent your thought that my enemies are going to exploit her to get to me. It's a thing of the past, I say! There's really NOBODY left to harm Christine or I that wouldn't have already done so if they could! The fact of the matter is, daroga, that YOU are paranoid. I will not have your fears dominate my life." He began pacing even more restlessly than before, dragging his feet and kicking at random objects as he passed.

The table he most recently kicked shuddered a little before the teacup resting on it toppled off the surface and hurtled to the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces; Nadir grimaced at the sight; "Erik, be calm. You are letting your temper control you again. Be careful, be cautious, and above all else, be rational! I know you won't listen to me now, but I'll write you a letter explaining my sentiments so that once you cool down, you can think logically about what I have to say. Alright?"

"I do always appreciate new material for my fireplace. It's a very thoughtful gift, Nadir."

"Oh! I just realized that one of the side effects of the antidote I gave Christine was an inability to sleep. I'll go check on her right now, and make sure she's still in the room we left her in. You two should probably settle down for the night here, then; that is, unless you wish to return to the Opera Populaire." Christine clapped her hand over her mouth and scurried away as fast as possible, shutting the guest bedroom door behind her as quietly as possible.

While she tried to calm her pulse and breathing, Christine heard Erik's puzzled voice say, "Of course she's still in her room! Where else would she be?" Unable to stifle a giggle, Christine flopped onto the bed and waited for her caretaker to check in on her.

Nadir deemed her fit to go, and after a few hasty goodbyes and promises to visit again soon –without a poisoning crisis- the pair remounted Cesar and began their half hour journey home.

Madame Giry stepped out of a concealed door and into the dim light of Erik's living room.

There were only a few candles lit; they had obviously been burning long enough for many of their companions to fizzle out. Wax dripped down their sides and shone ethereally in the fading flames. Picking up a still burning candle, Madame Giry set to work relighting the remainder.

Once the room was bathed in a warm glow, Madame Giry settled down on the sofa and decided to wait…

And wait…

And wait.

After waiting for hours, Madame Giry's stomach began rumbling. She had forsaken lunch in pursuit of Christine, and her stomach was making its irritation known. With bread in hand from her starved raid on Erik's pantry, she began pacing to and fro, wondering where Erik could have gone. She suspected that Christine was with him, but it was always possible she was elsewhere and had another excuse for missing lunch with her best friend and mother figure. There was an endless list of possible places she could be right now –although most of them involved trouble and general mischief.

Eventually, her mindless wandering led her to Erik's room. Whenever she had been down there before, he had made her promise to keep out of his room. To him, it was the only real place where he didn't have to hide. Before, that had partially extended to the rest of his house, but now that it appeared Christine had been here, his band of protection had probably been reduced back to only his room.

Her hand rested on the doorknob, yearning to twist it and investigate inside. Her hand twisted the handle until she heard a small pop as the lock slid out of place. Her resolve faltered and she ceased breathing. No… this is his room. It's personal. You should know better, Antoinette. With a sigh, she released the knob and twisted around to return to the living room. A surprising sight stopped her.

The room next to Erik's had always been used as storage for his various instruments and piles of music, but now she could see that wasn't the case. The door was cracked open a sliver, and through that spot she could see that it was no longer an inglorious heap of boxes; the boxes had been cleared away and replaced with furniture.

Madame Giry debated for a second before concluding that since had had never specified she stay out of this room, she could indulge her curiosity. The door swung open easily, revealing a room full of any form of furniture and decoration that would be necessary to a… female.

There was a mirror (which really went to show that this room was not for Erik), a bed, a closet, a dresser, a desk, a few chairs, and a bookshelf. Each item had some feminine touch to it, be it the hair brush by the vanity mirror or the frills on the bottom of the bedspread.

Taking a step inside –and sighing in relief that she hadn't stumbled upon a booby trap yet- Madame Giry proceeded to poke around the room, examining the titles of the books on the shelves and opening various drawers. The closet door swished open and revealed a neat row of dresses, stockings, corsets, slippers, and other female garments. Yes… surely this room was meant for Christine.

A low growl behind her stopped her hand before it could shut the closet door. He must have returned. Giry turned slowly, fearful of whatever rage she had inspired in Erik.

To her shock, she found not Erik, but Sir Marque sitting below one of the pillows on the bed and glaring at her. Normally she would have laughed the incident off, but one look at the cat told her that Sir Marque hadn't been fed lately, and when Sir Marque started getting hungry… Madame Giry gulped and backed slowly towards the door.

As soon as she was out the door and into safety, she returned to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers for some suitable cat food. She quickly procured a sausage, and tossed it carelessly inside Christine's room. Within seconds, she heard happy munching sounds. She wasn't terribly worried about crumbs spreading through Christine's room: Sir Marque was very thorough when it came to eating everything.

She settled herself on the couch again and lost herself in thought. If Sir Marque was here, then Christine surely had been here as well. She probably had been before too, based upon the room that had been prepared for her… then again, maybe the room was in preparation for her arrival at some point soon. It didn't look like the room had really been touched much.

She pursed her lips in frustration. It had surely been another hour since she had first grabbed that hunk of bread. Where could Christine and Erik be? Had some tragedy befallen them? Erik knew very well that he had to be cautious within the opera house, as there had been detectives floating in and out for years. They had obviously been looking for any sign of proof of the Phantom; Madame Giry was sure they had found some: a mere child could have done as much. What they did with the knowledge, however, was a different matter…

Sir Marque strolled into the living room, licking his lips in satisfaction as he hopped up onto Madame Giry's lap and he nuzzled himself underneath her hand. The calm repetitive motion of petting the cat calmed her down somewhat, but she was still a tad nervous. It was only then that she noticed the thick book lying on the table next to her. It was relatively nondescript, but there was a thick piece of paper sticking out from the open page with writing on it. As she grabbed the piece of paper, she realized the writing was an address. But whose was it? Only Erik could answer that…

She didn't have to do much more waiting.

Erik and Christine emerged from a tunnel by the lake, chatting quietly as they walked. They stopped as soon as they saw Madame Giry.

"Well, Erik, it's nice to see you again," she began.

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For the record, both narcolepsy and cataplexy are real diseases. If you're ever looking for a good laugh, I recommend looking up "Bo the narcoleptic dog" on youtube. Not that these diseases are anything to laugh about, it just happens to be that this dog is terribly cute.

Also, as I don't believe I've mentioned this before, the meat of this story (now that Christine's grown up) is set in the early 1890s. No, it was not a random choice, it just happens to be that a variety of random objects I wanted to use were invented/discovered right about then. That means narcolepsy, pet stores, more affordable public lights, modern day toothpaste in a tube, filing cabinets, well... you get the drift.

Thank you to everyone that has reviewed/followed/favorite/is just reading along. I appreciate your support so much. Also, a special thanks to Kitkat because I cannot respond to you in PM. THANK YOU!