All of your questions about Erik's guise will be answered (I think) in this chapter! As well as Buquet's death….

"Erik, follow me," I said, taking his hand and leading him down a side street. He followed me like a scared child. I led him for a couple blocks, and stopped and turned down an alley, making sure no one was there before we headed down it. I turned to look and him, and smiled tenderly and the sight of his half covered face. "Oh, Erik," I murmured, sitting down on a wooden crate. "I have so many questions… and it… I'm so confused." Erik sat next to me with a heavy sigh, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"You have but to ask, and you shall receive," he murmured quietly, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Did you kill Joseph Buquet?" I asked quietly, afraid of the answer. I could feel him looking at me intently.

"No," he said, shifting slightly. "I did not. No one did. Except himself. After my brief voice lesson with you, I went above to the catwalks to clear my head. I found him, noose in hand, already around his neck. 'No, Joseph!' I beseeched him, but he turned to me with a long gone look in his eyes. 'She left,' was all he said before he stepped off." Erik pulled me closer to him, and I breathed in his familiar scent. "I believe he was talking about Carlotta," he said thoughtfully. "And when she left, she chose Piangi, and so he felt life was no longer worth living… Of course I'm just making assumptions," he said thickly.

I sighed with relief. Erik had not killed M. Buquet. "And why the guise of Monsieur Anton Petit?" I asked, shifting so I could look at him better. Erik tenderly brushed a stand of hair out of my face.

"Oh, Christine, I love you so," he said brokenly. There was a long pause, and I snuggled closer to him, because there was a cold breeze blowing through the empty alleyway. "Anton Petit was my way of trying to get you to move on from me," he whispered. "He was the perfect man, wasn't he? He was polite, charming…, and handsome. He was everything any woman could ever want in a man. And so, I molded myself a mask that made me look like anyone else… Just like anyone else… And when I realized how different a man I was when I was normal, I couldn't go back to being the horribly misshapen man that I truly am. So the Phantom slowly faded out of view and made room for Anton.

"I knew you could do better than me, Christine. And I thought you might find that in Anton. But you held onto me… Why did you hold onto me, when everything you could ever possibly want was in Anton? Why?" he asked tearfully, and I gently brushed his warm tears away from his face.

"Because," I said gently, "He wasn't you, Erik." I pulled myself close to him and buried my face to his chest. "I love you, Erik Girard," I said, though it was slightly muffled in his chest. Erik grasped me tighter, and we sat like that for long minutes, until we both stirred and decided that we should make our way back to the Opera house.

When we did get there, we were very cautious upon using the door that belonged to the key that Erik had given me. We went down the long tunnel and across the lake, and into his house. Needless to say, I didn't make it back to afternoon rehearsal. Erik and I sat and talked for a long while, trying to smooth things over with rational heads.

"ERIK! Damn it, what were you thinking?"

I stiffened at the voice. Nadir. He probably didn't know I was here. "I'll get it," I muttered, rolling my eyes irritably. "Nadir," I said, plastering a smile on my face. "How nice of you to drop by."

"Chris—Mademoiselle, I didn't realize that you were here…," he began.

"Obviously… Is there something that I can help you with?"

"Well, I wanted to speak with Erik," he said, shifting his wait uncomfortably.

"All right," I said, opening the door for him. "I'll make some coffee." I shut the door behind Nadir and headed to the kitchen. I popped into the den before to let Erik know who was here. "Erik, it's Nadir," I said. "I'm going to go make coffee, would you like some?" He gave me an appreciative nod, and I made a pot as quickly as I was able. I came into the room, handed each man their mug, took my cup, and sat down next to Erik on the sofa.

"So, Daroga, what brings you here?" Erik asked mildly, sipping his coffee. Nadir seemed slightly irritated.

"I had hoped to speak with you in private, Erik," he said, clearing his throat.

"Where could be more private? We're five stories underneath the Opera house, for God's sake." Erik snorted derisively, and I almost choked on my coffee because of my amusement.

"I meant alone with you," Nadir said, sighing.

"Oh. Well, anything you have to say to me, I'm sure you can say it in front of this lovely lady as well," Erik said calmly. I smiled slyly and shifted closer to Erik, looking at Nadir over the rim of my cup.

"I don't believe that the things I have to say would be appropriate for a lady's ears," he said, setting his mug down on the coffee table that was in front of him.

"Oh, please. I live at the Opera house, I seriously doubt that there is a more vulgar place in all of Paris, monsieur," I said, smiling at him wryly.

"Very well, if you insist," Nadir said. Erik and I both nodded and waited for him to continue. "Erik, I saw her slap you today," he said plainly, and Erik and I both exchanged uneasy glances. If Nadir had seen, how many others had as well? "And I cannot believe you would go so far as to create an alternate identity for yourself! Honestly, how long did you think that it could go on for? I was concerned for your safety, man! You are already suspected of the murder of Joseph Buquet," he said, glaring at us. Nadir reminded me of a mother hen. Grouchy, yes, and certainly protective of her offspring.

"But Erik didn't do it," I said, sitting up. "It was suicide."

"That very well may be, mademoiselle, but there is no proof that it was, or wasn't, him." Nadir sipped his coffee again. "And then there's the matter of you two, as well. Especially concerning Erik's past."

"Erik's told me everything," I said confidently. "We were talking about… well, everything before you came."

"Ah. I see. So then, I assume you know about Veronica?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I have no other complaints to make known."

"Daroga," Erik said, leaning forward on his knee caps. "Why do you care so much, anyway?"

"Why shouldn't I? Good day, mademoiselle," he said, tipping his hat in my direction before showing himself to the door.

"That was odd," I conceded.

"Yes," Erik agreed. "The Daroga is a very unusual man."

"Erik," I said cautiously. "I want to talk about the future."

Deep stuff coming up! Woo! Hope you guys all had your q's answered.