The woman gave Antoinette a sceptical look, "I find a rise in success improbable for my brat."

"She's there. She is. She's with a man."

"Eh, good fer 'er. Hope 'es better than the louse I'm married to." The woman continued with cleaning up the table, "She's a big girl, she can do wot e're she wants to."

"But he's a monster."

"You've not seen what I've got." She laughed loudly, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "She's been a bother for the past eighteen years. Don't expect me to start caring when some little bit comes in 'ere."

Antoinette frowned, her plan was not working. "Have you seen Montparnasse then?"

"No."

"May I leave a note for him then?"

"Sure."

Antoinette left him a note, short and sweet.

Montparnasse,
Her first performance is in two months.
We need to meet to plan.
-Antoinette

She folded the piece of paper and left it with Éponine's mother, hoping she'd at least deliver it to him. Her mother would be panicking if she'd never came home once or if she'd been a little late, but Éponine's didn't seem to even worry if she was alive or dead.

~o~

"Aa, ae, ee, oo, uu." Éponine sang as Erik played up the scales of the organ before moving back down. Every octave she met the notes, cracking only on some of the higher notes.

"Now let's try, ma, mae, me, moo, muu." Erik laughed when Éponine stared at him with a smug grin.

"I wanted to do ta, tae, tea, too, tu."

"How about sa, sae, see, soo, sew, sue?"

Erik laughed as she playfully swatted his hands away from the keys, "How about I make you sing?"

He gestured for her to take his seat, rising to his feet quickly. This would be entertaining. "What would you have me to sing, maestro."

Éponine gave him a mocking glare as she took his seat; she stretched her arms in front of her before arching back in the bench to stretch her back. Erik couldn't resist smiling at the gracious eyeful he got when she leaned back like that. "I was thinking that you can sing the cow version."

"The cow version?"

"Ma, mae, me, moooo, muu."

"If you can play it right I will sing it."

Éponine stared at the keys, they looked menacing to her. She'd never paid much attention to where his fingers moved, they moved so quick and skilfully she never felt the need to concentrate on them. Not, when there were more interesting things to study. "Well, it starts. Um."

"Here," Erik took her hands in his, curving them over her smaller ones and placing them on the keys. "Like that."

"I knew that."

"Of course," Erik teased, "Ma." He shifted their hands, "Mae," again, "Me."

"I see."

"No, we're doing "M" not "S"." He moved their hands again, "Moo," again, "Muu."

"You did it."

"Well, you played it correct." So many weeks ago their warm ups had been drastically different. His hands were gloved, his face was masked, he was stiff and rigid, she was being forced to sing, and there was no laughter or gentle teasing. They had come so far. Through so much. Hate, love, together, separated, reunited, pregnancy, losing the baby; and all only in a few short months.

"Erik?" Éponine glanced up at him, curious as to why he was staring at her with a silly little grin.

"Sorry, where were we?" He sat down on the bench beside her, resting his hands in his lap. "We should probably go over Past the –"

"Can you sing Le Tango De Roxanne? I know you sing that in the musical. I just want to hear you sing." Éponine gave him a flirty smile, trying to entice him to sing. Despite being terrified about singing tomorrow for a rehearsal, she didn't want to practice.

"Might as well start teaching you what I have in mind for the dance." Erik found the sheet music, placing it before him. He took a deep breath before diving head on into the beautiful music. "Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light. Walk the streets for money. You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right. Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight. Roxanne, you don't have to sell your body to the night. His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand!"

She could feel her pulse begin to race as his music and his voice flooded his mind. She knew that their characters were inspired by them, for the most part. Roxanne was a prostitute before she met Tristan. Just like Éponine had been before she was caught by Erik.

"Now how about we try Past the Point of No Return?"

Éponine shook her head, "I have seen those lyrics if we sing those, there is a chance we won't get any work done the rest of the day."

"Why, does?" Erik began to play a random part of the song from memory, "What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us? Affect you?"

Éponine bit her lip, nodding slowly, "As does, 'In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenceless and silent and now I am here with you. No second thoughts I've decided."

"When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping blood burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?"

"Enough!" Éponine gasped feeling her sense finally returning to her. "You wanted to get work done; you didn't want to lie around in bed all evening."

"Our musical is full of passionate lyrics Éponine. Lyrics we will be singing before audiences night after night."

She gulped, closing her eyes. "It will be different then, I won't be afraid about containing myself. I would never dare to let those seductive words seduce me in front of an audience."

Erik smirked, "There's no audience now."

A/N: Well the last two chapters were a little plot thrown in with E/E fluff. I just picture the two of them as being very passionate people. I don't see them skirting around much. Seeing as I've wrote Erik as being someone who experimented his passions with (unwilling) prostitutes and that Éponine was a prostitute because of her parents I just figure that now that they've found someone they're really happy with that they would be pretty inseparable. Do you think it's too much?