Lady Taevyn: Yes, I know Erik's been through a lot and doesn't need me aggravating things by making difficulties with Lenore's indecision. But he insulted me at the end of the last chapter…aren't I allowed to get revenge for that?
MJ MOD: It would seem that education is declining around the world. I mean, what type of school neglects to educate you on the ability of angels to have sex?
Lethia: Thank you for finding the whole indecision between Uriel and Erik to be interesting instead of hateful. I'm so happy that you weren't all like "GRR! Erik!! Kill Uriel!!"
Jackjackio: I'm glad you like the story. Sorry it took so long to update, but it's my junior year of college, and I tend to have loads of work to do.
Shariena: I'm sorry to make you so upset by her liking Uriel. Truly, I am. Mainly her whole thing with Uriel is her still clinging to the idea of living her life the way God wants it. The meetings with Uriel and all that jazz are a symbol of the fact that she feels the attraction of good/Heaven, and isn't sure if she's ready to give that up for Erik. But don't worry, it won't last much longer…a couple chapters at most, if that. Prolly not even that long.
Iluvmyphantom: I know Lenore's acting like dumb Christine, but we all do stupid things sometimes. Please don't torture Lenore, she's somewhat central to the plot. Not to mention how upset Erik would be…
Artzee: You didn't review last chapter (you may not have read it yet, though it's been up at least a week), and I'm worried about what's happened to you. I hope the evil flamingos didn't get you…cursed competition for taking over the world, they always try to kill off the people who make me happy…
I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place about twenty years into the present, blah blah blah, REVIEW…
Lenore sighed again, trying to make sure she didn't sigh too loudly. She was stretched out on the couch, doodling on some parchment while Erik sat close by doing some sketching of his own. Architecture, he said, so she wasn't too interested.
I can't draw that, damnit. She kept wanting to draw angels and humans in very romantic poses and settings, but she didn't know what she'd do if Erik saw. I'd die, that's what I'd do…
"Erik, what should I draw?" she asked, hoping whatever he suggested would be of enough interest for her to involve herself in the project and forget about the guilt she felt for meeting Uriel in dreams.
"Whatever you're good at drawing," he replied absently, obviously deeply into his own sketches.
"Thanks for nothing," Lenore grumbled.
"You're welcome," Erik mumbled distractedly, not even picking up on the fact that she'd informed him that he wasn't being helpful.
Lenore sighed again, not bothering to worry about its volume this time. Erik certainly wouldn't notice or realize she was bored. "Erik, do you have a protractor, compass, and ruler I could use?" Lenore asked, deciding it didn't really matter what she drew since Erik wasn't paying attention anyway. The ruler would make certain she got proper lengths on arms and legs, the protractor would make excellent curves for the wings, and the compass would be used to make certain the woman's breasts wouldn't turn out lopsided.
"Yes, that's fine," Erik muttered, his brow furrowing as he erased something.
Dear God, he's not listening to me at all!
"Erik, can I go out and have mad passionate sex with multiple partners?"
"That'd be lovely, darling," he said in that voice which indicated he was completely absorbed in his work and couldn't possibly be bothered to resurface at this point in time. Suddenly, the pencil stopped moving and she heard the point break. "Of course you can't!" he all but shouted at her, finally taking his eyes off his precious sketch.
"So which is it?" Lenore inquired, managing to keep her face perfectly straight.
"The latter, you dense woman," Erik snarled, shooting her a glare that almost froze her blood to ice water in her veins.
"Don't get yourself in a tizzy," Lenore scolded him. "I was only joking. If you weren't so obsessed with that stupid sketch, I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures to get your attention."
"I cannot help my obsession, as you call it. I merely wish this to be perfect," Erik said defensively.
"Well, I don't care. Isn't it pointless to draw a building? You're not going to have it constructed," Lenore reasoned. After all, it was rather difficult to have a building made while hiding in the basement of the Opera House.
Erik sighed and shook his head as if she understood nothing at all. "What did you need?" he said, deciding she must have required something to have resorted to such extreme measures to get his attention.
"Never mind," she murmured, settling to sketch something at last.
"No, I'll not 'never mind'! Tell me what it is you require," Erik persisted.
"I need you to be quiet so I can concentrate on my drawing," she replied, a small smirk touching her face. This would be something to hang on the fridge…if they'd had one. She supposed the mantel could host it instead.
Finally she finished her work and, leaping off the couch, she bounced over to present it to Erik. Erik, for his part, had waited for her to finish it before resuming his own work. "What is this?" he inquired, gesturing to the picture.
"It's stick art, silly!" she exclaimed. "See, this is ground level. This mass of rectangles is the frame work for a building, and those stick guys are the construction crew. This is us belowground in the basement. The one with the skirt is me, of course. Now read what I wrote in your little speech bubble."
" 'You incompetent fools, can't you follow simple instructions?' " Erik read. He gave a soft chuckle.
"I knew you'd like it," Lenore proclaimed, taking her picture from his hands and setting it up on the mantel.
"Why are you putting it on the mantel?"
"To display my artwork. If you had a fridge, I could put it up there. But…oh well, the mantel's good enough I suppose. Not as much space for drawings as a fridge though."
"There's very little point in displaying such amateur art," Erik said with a careless shrug.
"Nonsense!" Lenore protested. "Kids do it all the time. I remember how much Hiroshi loved my finger paintings, and how I covered the fridge with them every day. And then there was the day I decided to just save time and paper by painting the fridge itself. I got in so much trouble for that, I wasn't allowed paint for a year."
"If you don't need anything, I'll return to my sketch now, ma petite," Erik stated.
"Ugh! Put it down for a while! I'm bored," Lenore complained.
"When aren't you bored?" Erik muttered.
"When I'm doing something that doesn't bore me," Lenore said. "C'mon, let's do something! Let's go out today, okay? We could…visit my mom or something…"
"Visiting your mother is torture. Are you so deranged that you prefer torture to boredom?"
"Well…torture isn't boring," Lenore shrugged.
"Alright, we'll go out," Erik sighed, putting his art supplies aside and heading for the bedroom to prepare for a venture aboveground.
"Woo hoo!" Lenore crowed excitedly, rushing after him for her own preparations.
Lenore looked exquisite in her crimson dress, a black hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders and black gloves on her small, slender hands. The temperature was somewhere in the mid forties, and Erik had insisted she wear the gloves so she wouldn't go catching cold.
For his part, Erik wore a dark chocolate suit so dark it was almost black with a crimson waistcoat and cravat (Lenore had chosen her dress to match his choice for their outing), a dark chocolate cloak, and matching gloves. And of course the skin tone mask that made his face seem perfect to anyone who glanced at him. That mask was a wonderful invention that allowed him such freedom.
Not one of the people in the Bois de Boulogne recoiled in terror or shrieked at his appearance. Most of the available young women stared, practically drooling, shooting the occasional glare at the fortunate woman on his arm, who was blissfully unaware of the jealousy she created. The young men in the Bois glared at Erik for having obtained the attentions of the young women.
Lenore kept chattering excitedly, proclaiming over the colors of the changing leaves on the trees, the wildlife that skittered across their path, and the clouds that she found particular shapes in. Erik realized with a slight pang of sadness that he'd never seen this side of her before. Not once under the Opera House had she been so eager to talk to him about the most random little things. So you managed to keep some things hidden underneath your masks after all, little one. I thought I knew you perfectly inside and out. It would seem there are some things left to learn about you after all.
"I love the way the air smells – and tastes – in spring, summer, and fall. It's winter I don't like," Lenore was rambling. "It's too cold, and there's no flavor or scent to the air at all. Autumn's my favorite season though. Spring's too rainy for me, and summer's hot. But autumn has that chill in the air that makes you think of fireplaces and hot chocolate, and all the animals are settling in for hibernation, and all the plants are dying."
Erik merely smiled, pleased that she was so energetic, so happy to be out…so alive. Guilt washed over him for keeping this beautiful falcon caged for so long. She needed to get out more often. I never even realized I only saw the dead side of you. I never knew there was a side so alive, so delighted with everything in the outside world. You hate the world so much, it never occurred to me that there might be anything left aboveground that you liked.
"Ooo, ducks! I want to feed them!" Lenore proclaimed as they came close to the lake, where a swarm of ducks swam about, eagerly snatching up bread crumbs tossed out by tourists.
"I suppose we could do that," Erik permitted, trying not to laugh. She was like a small child.
Erik watched Lenore with amusement as she promptly approached a tourist and asked for some of the bread they were giving out. Once she had secured some bread, she hurried to the water's edge and began tempting the ducks onto the land, much to the delight of all the children present. Older children held back the little ones who wanted to rush up and pet the ducks, knowing it would only frighten the poor animals.
"Don't get yourself bitten, chérie," Erik called to her. Granted, it wouldn't be a problem if a duck bit her, but he didn't know if he could stand her whining about being bitten by an evil duck and why hadn't he done something to save her, hm?
"I was bit by a goose once!" she declared proudly. "The biggest, baddest goose in the pond! He knocked all the other geese down and almost knocked me over snatching the bread from my hand. I was on crutches then, the goose must have known it'd be like taking candy from a baby."
When the ducks were a good distance from the pond, the older children began closing a circle around the small flock that followed Lenore in the hopes of securing a few more crumbs of food. Planning to trap the ducks for their petting delight, Erik knew there would be a vast amount of duck bitten children if he didn't step in.
Most of the ducks hurriedly escaped through the gaps the children left, but Erik scooped up the closest one. Animals seemed to have a great love for Erik and would put up with anything if he seemed to wish it. Surely enough, the duck did not protest its capture, merely stayed perfectly still in his hands, waiting for the bread it had been hoping for.
Lenore fed the duck little bits while the children crowded around, eagerly petting any part of the duck they could reach. Adults wore looks of astonishment at his ability to capture a duck, and at the fact that the duck didn't struggle whatsoever.
At first, Erik was pleased to have delighted the children, to have them clustered around him. But after a few moments, he was rather sad. He would never have his own children to squeal with happiness and pleasure at the amazing capabilities their father possessed, to crowd around with smiles on their small faces. Having Lenore beside him seemed to make it all the worse. This was exactly how he wished their life together could be, full of the laughter and joy of children. For just a moment, he let himself pretend these were all his children, and Lenore his wife, sharing an afternoon together in the Bois.
But the moment couldn't last forever, and Erik made sure that each child had had a chance to touch the duck before he let it go. The poor thing hurried for the pond, the pack of children chasing it the whole way.
"That was fun," Lenore said with a grin. "What you did with that duck was amazing. They don't like being captured or held." She beamed up at him, and Erik marveled at the realization that her praise thrilled him and he wanted to find other ways to win her acclaim.
A sudden gust of wind assaulted all present around the pond, and leaves flew into the air, losing their delicate grip on their tree branches. Erik and Lenore's cloaks swirled in that wind, and he heard some of the children expressing awe over the movements of the fabric. A few leaves caught in Lenore's hair, and Erik already began dreading their removal. The leaves might crumble into tiny bits that would get hopelessly ensnarled in her golden brown mane of hair.
"Is the weather right for flying a kite?" Lenore wondered aloud. "I've never done that, but I always wanted to."
Erik chuckled. Such a delightful person hid inside Lenore, needing only the right atmosphere to show herself. Her child-like attitude was surprisingly refreshing, and it made him almost sorry that he'd never had a childhood as wonderful as hers to make him want to act so young and carefree.
Lenore was enjoying herself far more than she ever had before. She usually always encountered something to depress her in every outing she'd ever been on in her lives before this one. But for once, it seemed that everything was going to run perfectly.
Observing the sky as though she knew how to determine what was good for kite flying, she saw a few birds circling around, and that made her think of flying in general, which ended up leading to Uriel. Which brought her spirits crashing to the ground.
Good job, idiot. Just go and ruin your afternoon. Not like I wanted to have a good time anyway…
Knowing she couldn't let Erik see that her spirits had suddenly plummeted, Lenore gave a careless sigh. "Oh well, I suppose kite flying isn't a good idea," she said. "I don't know how…and unless you know, there's really no point in the both of us embarrassing ourselves."
"No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about it," Erik replied.
"Wait, there's something the awe-inspiring Erik doesn't know how to do?" Lenore gasped in shock. "Well, we have to now."
"I doubt the weather is right for it," Erik used as an excuse.
"You don't know anything about it," Lenore protested. "C'mon, let's give it a shot, the worst that can happen is that you can't master the art of kite flying, right?"
"We should be heading back; it's getting late."
"Oh fine, spoilsport. But promise we'll come back some day and try it," Lenore pleaded, putting on her best pout to help persuade him.
"If we must," Erik sighed in aggravation.
Lenore gave a gleeful squeal and took the elbow he offered her. He led her out of the Bois, and as they strolled along while considering dining out for the evening, she spied a young girl trying to sell a small kitten.
"Erik, can we have a cat?" Lenore inquired, interrupting him in his critique of a particular restaurant.
"Surely you don't mean that scraggly animal that looks more like a rat than a cat?" Erik said.
"Look at the poor thing, all skin and bones," she replied.
"It's not purebred," Erik argued.
"I don't want a purebred," she countered. "I want that kitty."
"I indulge you far too much," he finally answered before approaching the girl and giving her double the price she asked. The girl's coat was little better than a rag on the verge of falling apart.
Erik glared at the small male kitten purring contentedly on Lenore's lap in their cab. He wasn't sure why he felt jealous of the attention it was receiving; it was only a cat, after all.
"He's gonna need a bath," Lenore noted. "Aren't you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, his dominant breed is impossible to discern with all the dirt caked in his fur," Erik said, reaching out a hand to stroke the little thing. He was utterly shocked when the kitten hissed at him.
"I think I'll call him Bishop," Lenore declared, not noticing the cat's behavior due to the deep consideration of the name she wanted to give it. "You like that, Bishop?" The kitten purred and rubbed his head against her leg. "I'll take that as a yes."
Erik crossed his arms and prepared to be thoroughly ignored by the pair for the rest of the ride, hoping Lenore would notice his sulking and pay him more attention. The trick failed miserably, and Erik found himself in a less than pleasant mood when they returned to the Opera House. If I'm lucky, the siren will eat this annoying intruder before the week is out.
"Alright, a bath first," Lenore said firmly the moment they stepped through the front door. She proceeded to the bathroom, gesturing for Erik to follow.
After a half hour of loud pathetic mewing and severe cat scratches applied to Erik's person, the cat was finally rid of the layer of dirt it had been wearing. Erik doctored his cuts and changed out of his clothes (now soaked from the numerous times he'd caught the kitten as it tried to escape its bath) before going out into the drawing room. He shot the bedraggled, wet kitten a furious glare before returning to his sketch of the house he planned to have built for himself and Lenore.
Lenore had her "poor sweetheart" wrapped in a towel and cradled in her arms as she dried the monster off. "I'm sorry Bishop, but we had to get the dirt off," Lenore apologized. "Aww, you're just so cute."
"I hope you realize the animal is your responsibility," Erik informed her. "I refuse to care for it, except in the case of an emergency."
"Don't you like Bishop?" Lenore inquired innocently. "Besides, when I asked for him, I asked if 'we' could have a cat. So he's your cat too, and you have to take some responsibility."
"That cat doesn't like me, ma petite," Erik snarled. "Or maybe you were too busy fawning over your precious feline to notice."
"Nonsense, cats love you," Lenore countered. "Isn't that right, Bishop?" She rubbed noses with the little cat, giggling when he licked her nose with his small pink tongue.
"There is an exception to every rule, and this one is named Bishop," Erik snapped, thoughts of drowning the wretched animal plaguing his mind.
"What are you so grouchy about?" she asked.
"Nothing."
Lenore stared at him for a moment. "You're not jealous of the cat, are you?"
"That's absurd," Erik replied, though he was currently envisioning a plethora of excruciatingly painful deaths for the feline that purred contentedly in Lenore's hold.
"Of course it's absurd. Which is why you probably are. Men are so stupid sometimes," Lenore sighed.
"Regardless, the cat is yours, and I'll not lift a finger to take care of it," Erik said.
"No wonder Bishop doesn't like you; he's picking up the hostility you feel towards him," Lenore reasoned.
"The 'hostility' was nonexistent before the thing hissed at me. The cat displayed the hostility first, I'm merely responding accordingly."
"You're being cruel. Blaming Bishop for this. How can you?" Lenore defended the bundle of damp fluff.
"It's that damn tomcat of yours that started all this. Your sweet Bishop is nothing more than a home wrecker," Erik snarled, glaring at the offender.
Lenore glowered at Erik before hurling a small pillow at him. "He doesn't mean it, Bishop, he's just cranky because I like you. Better than I like him, at the moment," Lenore comforted her precious kitten, turning her back to Erik.
Erik didn't bother to continue arguing with her; until she learned the evil nature of her pet, she'd defend it to the bitter end. Instead, he busied himself with his sketch, letting architecture fill his mind so there was no room for anything else.
Erik finally set his pencil down and checked his pocket watch. Three in the morning…she never said a word. Lenore was fast asleep sitting on the couch, her miniature devil curled up in her lap, taking a nap of his own. Perhaps I could throw that thing out the door and leave it to fend for itself…
Lenore woke up in the bed, stretching her arms as she yawned. She looked around for Bishop, but couldn't find him. Erik, on the other hand, was sitting at the desk, still sketching madly.
"Where's the cat?" she asked immediately.
"Good morning to you too, my love," Erik snapped, not even bothering to look up from his work.
"Erik, where's Bishop?" she demanded. Erik wouldn't murder a kitten…would he?
"Don't fret, he's fine," Erik replied carelessly. There was a scratch at the door and a pathetic mewing. "I won't have that flea-ridden beast on the furniture."
"You monster, shutting Bishop out of the room!" Lenore exclaimed, leaping out of bed and rushing to let the cat in. "Cats are sociable, they like company." The moment the door was opened, Bishop scampered into the room and began pleading to be picked up. Lenore complied, snuggling the poor kitten against her bosom. "Are you okay, honey? Honestly, Erik! He's just a kitten, how heartless can you be?"
"That's not a cat," Erik told her. "It's far too intelligent for your average feline."
"You're paranoid that the cat is going to take your place," Lenore argued. "Seriously, Erik, stop being jealous."
"I am not jealous!" Erik practically shouted.
"Idiot," Lenore mumbled. "C'mon Bishop, let's go get some breakfast." She walked to the small kitchen area and deposited her pet on the table while she retrieved a bowl. She knew Erik was close behind her, as she wasn't allowed out of his sight for more than five minutes as per the Circle's command. "What should I feed him? We don't have any milk or kitten chow…"
"I suggest arsenic," Erik replied, snatching up the kitten and setting it on the floor. "And it's not allowed on the table, counters, chairs, or sofa. He stays at floor level unless in your arms."
"Erik, you're being a jerk. Did you know that?" Lenore snapped. "I can understand not wanting him on the table or counters, but he should at least be allowed on the sofa or the bed. How would you like sitting and sleeping on the cold floor all the time? And if you so much as hint at killing my cat one more time, I'll never sleep with you again."
"And you accuse me of being vicious," Erik remarked unconcernedly, sitting down at the table while she went through the pantry in search of something for her little darling, who was currently rubbing against her ankles and purring for all he was worth.
"Do you have any worthwhile suggestions as to what I can give him?" she inquired, not finding anything she thought would be suitable. "Bishop's gotta be starving, and he's too skinny already as it is."
"Have your own breakfast, and we'll go out to pick up everything he'll require," Erik commanded.
"I thought you weren't going to lift a finger for him," Lenore reminded him.
"I'm doing myself a favor. If I don't see to it he has toys, I'm likely to find shoes chewed to pieces by a bored feline. A lack of a scratching post will lead to tattered upholstery. I suggest a collar as well, or else the siren might decide he's free game," Erik sighed.
"He's not going outside, so it doesn't really matter…" Lenore mused.
"That cat will be trained to relieve himself outside of this house; I won't have him defecating on the carpets."
"We could always get a litter box," Lenore pointed out. Then she realized that if Erik had ever had a cat, it was probably a very long time ago, back when they didn't have litter boxes and you had to train the cat to go outside. "Unless you want to train him, seeing as how I certainly don't know how to train him for that."
"I suppose I can bother myself to take care of that," Erik muttered. He stared at the cat intently for a moment, then sighed and sat back. "Done."
"What? You just stared at the cat, you didn't do"-
"Surely you realize the animal has a brain."
"Well yeah, but"-
"It's rather easy to rearrange a few things," Erik said.
"Oh. Well. Good job then," Lenore shrugged.
"The cat didn't need to accompany us," Erik said again as they walked down the street. He glared at the chocolate brown ball of fluff perched on Lenore's shoulder.
"Bishop's too young to be left home alone," Lenore argued. "Besides, if we're getting him a collar, we should have him along so we can make sure it looks good on him."
Erik dropped the subject; he didn't want to have this argument again. "As soon as we're done shopping for that wretched excuse for a cat, we'll visit your mother," Erik informed Lenore. A visit with Madam Parker would be like Heaven compared to sitting at home and watching Bishop obtain all of Lenore's attention.
"Visit my mom? Are you nuts?"
"I bought you that stupid cat, didn't I?" Erik snarled.
"You know, I don't like you like this," Lenore commented. "You're being ridiculous."
"I'm being ridiculous? I'm not the one fawning over the blasted feline, treating it as if it were my child," Erik replied. "If I had my way, we'd leave that thing at the closest animal shelter." Bishop looked at Erik with the classic I'm-just-a-poor-kitty enormous eyes and mewed as pathetically as possible. "Don't try that pathetic kitten stunt with me, it won't change my opinion of you, you little imp."
Lenore paused and Erik got a step ahead of her before realizing this. She delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee, which of course buckled, and there was a brief moment where Erik was certain he would hit the ground. Somehow, he managed to regain his balance, and he whipped around to glare at Lenore.
"Don't call my cat names," she growled, a dark look on her face.
Erik sighed angrily before turning and continuing down the street. His foul mood had him walking rather quickly, and Lenore had to run to keep up.
"You're going too fast," she complained after a few moments.
"Shut your mouth," Erik snapped. He was in no mood to deal with her stupid complaints right now.
"What's wrong with you?" Lenore inquired.
"I thought I told you to be quiet," he hissed, not even bothering to look at her. People were leaping out of his way frantically; he was a rather intimidating figure when angry.
"Since when do I ever listen to you?" she shot back. "Besides, I have every right to know what's got you so ticked off."
"Your goddamn cat, that's what," he replied. "Let's not forget about that kick, though, which rather hurt."
"That's it? You're upset because I kicked you and because of the cat? You're overreacting, take a chill pill or something."
Erik didn't respond; instead he picked up his pace. The sooner this outing was over with, the better.
"Erik! Slow down!" Lenore pleaded. She was practically tripping every other step in an effort to keep up with him. Erik paused long enough for her to catch up, then grabbed her wrist and dragged her along behind him. "You're cutting off circulation," she pointed out a few moments later.
"Do you think I care?" he spat.
"Not anymore," Lenore answered bitterly.
When they finally reached the pet shop Ember had recommended, Erik let go of her. She hurriedly removed her engagement ring then thrust it into his hand. "Don't worry about giving it back this time; I don't want it," Lenore informed him flatly, her face blank and her eyes full of danger.
Putting a pleasant smile on her face, she approached the clerk asking for help picking a suitable collar for Bishop. For his part, that cat was sitting on the counter, looking at Erik with what could have passed as a smirk.
Erik wasn't too concerned with her claim that she didn't want her engagement ring; she was angry at him now, but she'd get over it and then ask for the ring back, all shy and embarrassed, feeling bad for having lost her temper like that. At least, I think she will. But what if she doesn't Erik? What then?
Then you force her to take it back, you idiot! No, that would only drive her further away. Use your voice in your favor, you fool. Sing to her and she'll fall at your feet begging for the ring and pleading for forgiveness for her foolishness.
Stuffing the ring in his pocket, he decided these thoughts were best saved for another day, if that day came at all. He walked over and stood next to her while the clerk tried to fit a collar around a playful Bishop's neck.
Lenore stood with Erik on the stoop of a small flat, silently praying her appearance wouldn't push her mother over the edge of sanity. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she whispered softly.
"Jumping from the Eiffel Tower would be a better idea," Erik muttered in reply.
"Then what are we doing here?"
"Don't you think we've kept your presence a secret from her long enough?" Erik inquired. "Besides, I spend the holidays with your family, if you recall. I'd rather not spend Christmas listening to this shrew bitch and moan about how we didn't tell her and that I kept her daughter from her when you two have such a precious little amount of time left to spend together."
The door was finally opened a crack. "What do you want, you murderer?" Mrs. Parker hissed upon seeing Erik, not able to see Lenore from the small crack.
"To talk with you for a bit, Madam," Erik said politely. "May I come in?"
"Why should I let you in?"
"Madam, haven't you moved on yet?" Erik replied, starting to lose a bit of the politeness in his voice.
"It's your fault my daughter's dead, no sensible person "moves on" from that," Mrs. Parker snarled.
"Wait, she blames you for my heart stopping? You never told me that," Lenore blurted out before she could catch herself.
The door was wrenched open all the way, and Lenore barely recognized her own mother. She's so old now. Her mother's hair was completely gray, and her skin was wrinkled and shriveled with age. "My baby," her mother breathed, tears in her eyes.
Oh hell, now she's going to bawl her eyes out and hang on to me for the rest of her life.
Mrs. Parker lunged for her daughter, but Erik yanked Lenore to the side. "Could we possibly do this inside?" he sighed. Without waiting for an answer, he dragged Lenore into the house and left Mrs. Parker to follow them.
After they were all seated in the living room, with Mrs. Parker clinging to Lenore and sobbing into her daughter's shoulder, Erik began explaining the whole thing, summarizing and leaving out any details he could. Bishop, not being able to perch on Lenore because of her mother, was currently sulking on Erik's lap. Erik ignored the kitten entirely.
"Mom, get off, this is embarrassing," Lenore mumbled, blushing profusely. Honestly! Why did her mother have to act so ridiculous? I was only dead for like, two seconds before my soul moved on to Second Life. So I was gone for twenty one years. So what?
"I'm never letting you go again," her mother wailed.
"Well, this is definitely going to make showering difficult," Lenore remarked.
"Not to mention sex," Erik added.
You just had to say that in front of Mom…
"You're not sleeping with him, are you?" Mrs. Parker demanded, immediately switching from relieved-to-see-her-daughter-alive mom to how-dare-you-that's-a-sin-didn't-I-raise-you-better-than-that mom.
"No, Mom," Lenore responded.
"We make love every waking moment," Erik said simultaneously.
"Lenore! You're moving in with me this instant. And you're going to church with me on Sunday, you've obviously been lacking God in your life," her mother said firmly.
"Mom, he's lying," Lenore protested.
"It doesn't matter; you shouldn't be living with him at all," Mrs. Parker replied sternly.
"Oh, what's he going to do? The worst that'll happen is that he annoys me to death with his melodramatic jealousy over the cat," Lenore pointed out.
"You're not married, it's not proper," Mrs. Parker snapped.
"Do you know how many people live together without being married these days? It happens all the time."
"And it's wrong and immoral."
"And I don't have a choice," Lenore muttered.
"What does that mean? Has he threatened you?"
"No, the Condemned Circle that he mentioned briefly in passing has threatened me," Lenore answered truthfully. "I get a beating if I leave his sight for more than five minutes, and if I tried to run away, I die."
"You just let me have a talk with them," Mrs. Parker said, a dangerous protective glint in her eye.
"I'm afraid we have to be leaving now," Erik said, standing up. Bishop sank his tiny claws into Erik's slacks to avoid falling, then proceeded to scale Erik's shirt to perch on his shoulder. Erik jerked Lenore out of her mother's arms and headed speedily for the door.
"You're not stealing my daughter away from me again!" Mrs. Parker contradicted, rushing after them with surprising speed for her age.
"As always, it has been a rather unpleasant visit," Erik commented, throwing Mrs. Parker a parting smile. "I simply dread the next one. Good day, Madam."
"That wasn't polite," Lenore commented in the taxi on the way back to the Opera House. Bishop had deserted Erik the moment Lenore was available for perching delight.
"Why waste good manners on that creature? I simply can't understand how you're related to that," Erik replied. There was a short pause. "How do you tolerate her?"
"Pretty much how I tolerate you. Realize there's no choice and just try to make the best of it," Lenore responded. Erik glowered, crossing his arms and obviously preparing to sulk. "You're ever so much fun," she remarked dryly.
"Glad you think so," he retorted.
"If you really really really hate Bishop that much, and don't mind if I'm utterly bored and depressed, I suppose we can put him up for adoption," Lenore finally said, hoping that Erik would apologize for his poor behavior and tell her the cat could stay.
"Good, let's do it as quickly as possible," Erik said, brightening.
"No way!" she argued. "You don't want me to be depressed, do you?"
"I'm certain I'll have no problem cheering you up," Erik replied, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips.
"We're not getting rid of the cat," Lenore said.
"You lied to me, chérie," Erik said darkly.
"You were supposed to apologize for making me upset and say the cat could stay, it's not my fault if you don't react correctly," Lenore snapped.
"So you would have me lie?"
"You should always tell a voman exactly vhat she vants to hear," the taxi driver contributed. "Even if eet means lying."
"You are not paid to converse with us; mind your own business," Erik snarled.
"At least he knows how to handle women," Lenore muttered, making sure it was loud enough to be heard.
"Forgive me, but I think I've handled you well enough before," Erik replied, his hand slipping between her legs and caressing her through her skirt.
Lenore gave a squeak of indecency, turning red. "Pervert," she hissed.
Bishop began hissing and spitting, trying to attack Erik's hand. "See? He's a monster," Erik claimed. "He positively hates me."
"I doubt it. Ember had this one friend whose dog attacked her partner when they had sex because he thought the guy was hurting her. So Bishop's probably"-
"The cat is not trying to keep you safe, he just hates me," Erik insisted.
"Nonsense, he sat on your lap at Mom's," Lenore pointed out.
"Only because we temporarily shared a common enemy."
"My mother is not an enemy."
"Every mother-in-law eez an enemy," the cab driver put in.
"We're not married," Lenore replied instantly.
"Apologies. You just bickered like a married couple, so I assumed…Getting married sometime soon?"
"When Hell freezes over," Lenore snapped.
"In January," Erik said at the same moment.
"I'm not marrying you if you get jealous over Bishop," Lenore informed Erik.
"You're betrothed to me; you don't have much choice in this matter," Erik reminded her.
"That's true. But I can choose whether or not I love you. And I'll hate you forever if you force me to marry you."
"Forever is an extremely long time, ma petite," Erik remarked. "I doubt you could manage to hate me that long."
"Care to make a wager on that?" Lenore suggested.
"How does ten million Euros sound?" Erik proposed.
"You can't possibly have that much money," Lenore argued. Of course, it was a defense mechanism; she didn't have that kind of money herself.
"I have hundreds of billions," Erik stated matter-of-factly.
"You're not serious."
"You can count it when we get home if you like," Erik shrugged.
"Damn you," she mumbled. How can he be so rich? It's not fair. All he does is sit in the basement and compose music and paint, it's not like he has to earn his money. This totally sucks. Hiroshi wouldn't finance me if I wanted to leave Erik, there's virtually nothing left of my money from First Life and I couldn't access it even if there was, and I have no way of making any money so long as I'm with Erik. I swear, someone planned this. Someone sat down and thought it all out to make sure I'd be financially dependent on Erik, I just know it.
"Watch your language," Erik chided.
"F off," she replied, knowing full well that she couldn't be punished for saying the letter 'f'.
"Only on you, ma chouchoute," he smirked.
"I hate you with as much passion as archangels hate Satan," she muttered.
"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"No, I'm not into thinking, that's your department. You and your logic."
"Must we all be forced to suffer just because you're menstruating?" Erik inquired.
"Shut up, I'm not PMSing, you bastard," she snarled. Thankfully, they had reached the Opera House just at that moment, so she was spared any reply Erik may have ready.
Erik watched Lenore feed Bishop before she plopped down on the couch in a huff.
"Stop being so difficult," he commanded, taking a seat next to her.
"As soon as you stop being a man," Lenore spat.
"You're acting like a child."
"Oh, and you haven't been doing the exact same thing?"
"That's not the point."
"Let's make it the point."
"I have not been acting like a child per say," Erik said.
"You're jealous of that cat, and you pout and sulk because I pay more attention to Bishop than I do to you. How is that not childish?" Lenore returned.
"I do not pout and sulk," Erik argued. "I brood."
"And I'm not acting childish. I'm just reacting in a manner that is unbecoming of a woman," she retorted.
"Regardless, you need to quit acting this way," Erik stated. He took the ring out of his pocket, holding it out for her.
"I thought I told you to keep it," she replied, folding her arms across her chest.
"So you have no desire to marry me whatsoever?" he asked guardedly.
"You hurt me today, and you didn't even care," she said softly.
Erik sighed. He'd lost his temper, and he shouldn't have. He should apologize, but… It's her fault I got angry in the first place. "You kicked me," he reminded her.
"That doesn't excuse anything," she informed him.
"You hurt me and didn't care. Isn't there some scripture along the lines of "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you"?" Erik replied.
"You don't have any place to be quoting scripture," she said loftily.
Erik liked that fiery spirit, but she was so upset with him right now, he doubted she'd go to bed with him.
"I won't apologize," Erik stated. "Just take your ring back and get over it."
"You keep the ring and get over it," Lenore countered.
Erik grabbed her and pressed his lips to hers, despite her squirms and protesting grunts. She was only making it more enjoyable for him, though he knew that wasn't her intention. He forced his tongue into her mouth, and she slowly began to cease her struggle. When she was practically limp from passion in his hold, he broke contact.
"You can't hide the fact that you want me, little one," he whispered in her ear. "Nor can you ignore it." He slipped the ring onto her finger as he nipped at her ear.
"You cheated," she accused. "You used passion, that's not fair."
"Nothing's ever fair. Besides, if you really hated me, you wouldn't have stopped resisting, no matter how much passion flooded you."
"Why can't I ever stay mad at you?" she complained as she leaned against his chest.
"Because you love me," Erik chuckled.
"I don't know why. You're cruel and annoying," Lenore said.
"Don't forget charming, handsome, genteel, and capable of pleasing you in ways no other man ever could."
"Arrogant, stubborn, possessive, domineering…"
"Accepting of you despite your nasty personality, a musical genius, a splendid painter, a skilled tailor…"
"Stop coming up with good qualities, I can't counter them all," she admitted.
"Wretched cat, lay off of me!" they heard a familiar voice shout in the kitchen area. Raghnall came out, trying to pry Bishop off of his leg.
"What do you want?" Erik sighed in annoyance.
"Well, it just so happens that we were planning a meeting of the Circle in January. However, Hiroshi said he can't attend, as you are marrying Lenore that month. Why was he the only one in the Circle to receive an invitation to this event?" Raghnall inquired, coming straight to the point.
"Because I don't like you," Erik answered honestly. "Hiroshi was only invited because he's giving the bride away."
"But we're your family. It's only proper to invite your family to your wedding," Raghnall said, taking a seat in the chair and giving up on freeing his leg of Bishop's teeth and claws.
"We're not having a large wedding," Erik informed him.
"Yes we are. I had Ember send out a few extra invitations…" Lenore declared.
"How many are a few?"
"Only about a hundred."
"Well, you won't mind if eight more people show up," Raghnall stated.
"I don't think her family should be meeting any of you," Erik snapped, preparing to tell Raghnall to go find something to study down in Hell and leave them be.
"Oh, but her family must be so fascinating! After all, they're related to her, and anyone related to a woman bold enough to strangle Satan must be just as interesting," Raghnall surmised.
Erik thought about it a moment. Raghnall would certainly find Madam Parker a handful…perhaps it would be worth it to have those two together in the same room.
"If I tell you you're not invited, you'll pretend you never heard me say it, won't you?" Erik said knowingly.
"I would be completely ignorant as to what you were speaking of," Raghnall beamed.
"Neither of us want you there," Lenore commented.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Raghnall teased with a grin.
"Fine, you can come. Provided you promise not to go speaking of anything that isn't related to the mortal realm and swear to Satan that you won't turn anyone immortal. The last thing I want is one of her family members hanging around for eternity to annoy us," Erik finally said.
Raghnall cocked his head to the side, nodding as if someone was speaking to him. "Satan just inquired if he may come as well," Raghnall said.
"Well, there goes our wedding," Lenore mumbled.
"I think that would be a bit much," Erik told Raghnall.
"You can't forbid him from coming. He's already picked out a present," Raghnall explained.
"He can send it with one of you. Like a normal person," Lenore pointed out.
"Now why would he want to do that when he could deliver it in person?"
"Because he's unwanted. He's about as wanted as a tarantula sitting on my lap," Lenore snapped.
"Erik, does she like spiders?" Raghnall asked, making a pretense of trying to be secretive about this inquiry.
"She loves them about as much as Satan loves Michael," Erik chuckled.
"Oh. Well then, I suppose I can scratch a spider demon off the list of possible gifts…" Raghnall muttered, pulling out a scroll and opening it up, scanning down the list before finding what he was looking for and drawing a line through the entry.
"Look, Satan is not coming," Lenore said firmly. "We have to draw the line somewhere."
"My, what a vicious little beast you've got here," Raghnall remarked. Bishop was had spent the entire conversation shredding skin and spilling as much of Raghnall's blood as possible. "It makes him almost lovable."
"You're strange. He already is lovable; he's cute and fluffy, the very epitome of lovable," Lenore huffed.
Raghnall stared at Lenore as if she'd gone mad. "Vicious tendencies, fangs and claws, and intriguing behavior meriting study are the epitome of lovable," Raghnall informed her. "Don't you know anything, woman?"
"Okay, you've obviously been alive for far too long; it's affected your mind," Lenore muttered.
"You're just poorly educated. But I'll remedy that," Raghnall claimed. "We'll look at this from a more personal point of view. Keep in mind your definition of 'lovable' and mine as well. Now, which one does Erik fit into? He's most certainly not fluffy, and I wouldn't call him cute, but then I don't swing that way. On the other hand, vicious tendencies tend to dominate his behavior, and if he hadn't had Satan forbid it, I would study him for a good hundred years or more. Though I have a feeling even that wouldn't be enough time to learn everything. Seeing as how you find Erik lovable, and he fits my definition of the word, I must be right. End of lesson."
Lenore muttered bitterly in German, and Erik had the distinct feeling it was profanity.
"Oh, your precious kitty's done with this leg," Raghnall remarked as the cat transitioned to the leg that lacked claw marks and blood.
"Surely you have no reason to stick around," Erik said dismissively.
"Hmm, let me think." There was a short pause while Raghnall's eyes glazed over and he seemed to be in a different mental plane of existence. "Oh yes. I wanted to ask you something, Keeran," Raghnall beamed after a moment.
"And what is that?" Erik sighed, wondering what else Raghnall could possibly want.
"I was hoping to study your lovely little pet before you get married. Then perhaps a couple months later, I could study her yet again. I'm quite curious to see if marriage will change behavioral patterns…If it does, as per my theory, then I must observe her before these changes take place."
"Why don't you just ask Hiroshi whatever questions you have?" Lenore snapped, miffed at the word 'pet'.
He could have at least put it subtly… "Yes, that seems like a splendid idea," Erik agreed with Lenore.
"Research results are never as precise as observation results," Raghnall whined. Bishop sank his teeth into Raghnall's calf muscle. "See? If Erik had told me this cat was vicious, I would be unable to determine what his definition of vicious is, much less how nasty the creature had to be for Erik to term it as such. But seeing the cat for myself, I know exactly how vicious it truly is.
"If you don't leave right now, I'll start biting you," Lenore threatened.
For his part, Raghnall quickly turned over the scroll with possible wedding gifts and scribbled down some notes on Lenore's behavior.
Lenore had warned him. He hadn't left, so she leapt off the sofa, scurrying over to the chair. True to her word, she bit Raghnall's arm as hard as she could, which managed to break skin. She spat out the blood that had seeped into her mouth and attacked another portion of his arm. Raghnall winced with pain, but he feverishly continued scribbling.
"Lenore!" Erik called sharply. It was obviously meant to stop her in her tracks, but she wasn't going to be distracted so easily. She had told this bastard to leave, and he wouldn't listen. She would look like a pushover if she hadn't followed through on her threat.
A moment later, Lenore was yanked back by the collar of her shirt. She glowered at Erik, who was keeping a death grip on her collar. "Let me go, I'm not finished with him," Lenore hissed.
"Raghnall, I apologize," Erik said.
"Oh, it's quite alright," Raghnall assured him. A Q-tip appeared in Raghnall's hand and he wiped it along the edge of one of the wounds she had created. "A saliva sample. I couldn't have dreamed of obtaining as much as this." Raghnall stood, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I must be going, I need to analyze this as quickly as possible." With that he disappeared.
"My cat," Lenore whimpered. For Bishop had still been attached to Raghnall when he returned to Hell, and the kitten had disappeared with him.
"You do realize that, had that been anyone other than Raghnall, you would have been punished for that," Erik stated. He wasn't leaving it open for her to say she hadn't thought about that.
"What about Bishop?" Lenore complained.
"Your poor, deserving fluff ball could chew off Raghnall's leg and the man wouldn't notice unless it affected his studying," Erik remarked.
"You have to save my cat," Lenore demanded.
"Why should I?"
"Because…you secretly love the kitty deep down and don't want it to suffer being separated from me, as it could prove traumatic to his mental health."
"I find Bishop's absence quite pleasant," Erik argued.
"But…but…my kitty!" Lenore sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. Having Hiroshi as a father and finding him rather susceptible to tears, Lenore had perfected the art of crying on command, and this situation certainly called for it.
"I'm sure he'll return that feline at the wedding," Erik said nonchalantly.
"What if a demon kills Bishop?"
"Well…I'll pretend to feel bad about it," he replied.
Here goes…you asked for it, Erik.
Dead kitties, dead kitties
Dead kitties aren't much fun
They don't come when you call.
They don't chase mice at all.
Dead kitties aren't much fun.
At that point, Lenore burst into tears, wailing as miserably and loudly as she could.
Erik pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, then sat in his chair, occasionally looking at the watch while she continued to cry. After quite some time, her volume began to decrease, and eventually, when she could barely sustain an audible sob, she gave up.
"One hour, forty three minutes and twenty six seconds," Erik commented. "That must be a record of some kind."
Lenore scowled at him and dragged herself over to the sofa, dropping down onto it with a sniffle. She picked up one of the toys they'd bought for Bishop, giving a squeeze to make it squeak. She sniffled again, hugging the toy to her chest and curling up into a small ball to make herself look the picture of a helpless, vulnerable little girl drowning in grief.
Erik sighed heavily. "What would you reward me with if I retrieve that stupid animal?" he inquired.
"You're so selfish! You want a reward for ending my misery. Most people would be satisfied with knowing they made someone happy."
"That won't satisfy me," Erik shrugged.
"Selfish bastard," she mumbled.
"Didn't you establish that already?"
"Shut up, I hate you."
"I believe we've already proven that false today."
"Go to Hell."
"I'm not fetching that feline unless there's something in it for me."
Lenore chucked a pillow at Erik, but he managed to catch it before it hit him.
"Such a monster," a female voice commented behind Lenore. "Oh, not again! I swear, He just loves making me a woman when I come to Earth."
Lenore turned and saw Gabriel standing near the door, tossing his long blonde hair over his shoulder in annoyance. In his arms was her little Bishop. "My kitty!" she squealed, leaping over the back of the couch and rushing forward to take her tiny darling from the archangel.
"Uriel informed me Bishop had taken a little field trip to Hell," Gabriel said. "He didn't want you to get worried about him, so I went and picked him up for you. I don't think Raghnall even noticed I was there…"
"It was none of Uriel's concern," Erik snapped.
"Why didn't Uriel go get him?" Lenore asked, ignoring Erik entirely as she cuddled and comforted her cat.
"Uriel is limited to the realms of Earth and Heaven, except in the case of an angelic war," Gabriel explained. "Michael wouldn't set foot down there, Satan would have all his minions attack and, quite frankly, Michael can't take all of them at once. Raphael can't go, because he'd be defeated far too easily if he got into a fight. Raphael's strength is healing, not fighting. Remiel's at Jesus' house, I believe they were celebrating Christ's entrance into the mortal realm a month in advance. They find numerous occasions to celebrate, of course. Remiel just adores celebrations. Sariel's drilling the troops again; she wants to be ready should Satan make an attempt to invade Heaven. And Raguel is always in counsel concerning justice and harmony."
"Regardless, we didn't need your assistance," Erik grumbled.
"How is Uriel?" Lenore inquired, continuing to ignore Erik.
"Oh, he's doing better," Gabriel assured her. "He had another session with Raphael earlier this morning. If all goes as well as Raphael hopes, Uriel's wing will grow back in five hundred years."
"That's awful, I'm sorry," Lenore said sympathetically.
"What do you mean? Five hundred years is a remarkably quick recovery," Gabriel replied.
"Oh. Yay for him then," Lenore corrected.
"Will you kindly get out of my house, Gabriel?" Erik growled.
"So, how have you been?" Gabriel asked Lenore. "Uriel wants to know if that monster of yours has been treating you right."
"No, I'm fine. Though he wasn't going to get Bishop for me," Lenore responded. "I mean, is it too much to ask that he go get the cat?"
"I think not," Gabriel said, sounding scandalized at the thought that someone was going to leave a defenseless kitten at the mercies of Hell. "Even if he doesn't like the feline Uriel sent to you, he has no place leaving Bishop down there, it's absolutely dreadful. Not to mention how distraught you must have been with worry."
"I should have known Uriel planted it in our path," Erik muttered. "No wonder it hates me."
"But anyway, there's really not much going on in my life right now. I'm marrying Erik in January though. Do you want to come to the wedding?" Lenore offered.
"They are not coming to the wedding!" Erik protested, leaping up from his chair in anger.
"Your Condemned Circle is coming, why can't I have the archangels if I want?" Lenore argued.
"Do you have any idea how catastrophic it would be to have the archangels and the Circle in the same place at the same time?" Erik shouted. "We'll be lucky if your family and friends don't perish in the inevitable battle."
"You know, I just realized that I really haven't chosen any bridesmaids yet," Lenore said, choosing to ignore Erik's excellent point.
"I'm sure Sariel would adore being a bridesmaid," Gabriel smiled, knowing that Lenore was trying to change the subject and doing what he could to help.
"Isn't Sariel the Angel of Death?" Lenore inquired.
"That's true, but she doesn't come to Earth only to collect dead souls. She's down here occasionally for recreational purposes."
"Don't bother listening to me. I don't know anything about the hatred between the beings of Heaven and Hell," Erik complained bitterly at being ignored. "You're only going to start an epic battle at our wedding, but certainly that's of no concern. After all, what's a marriage ceremony without a little bloodshed?"
"Well, there's a fitting for dresses in two weeks, so if Sariel's interested, have her come down," Lenore said.
"I'll tell her," Gabriel promised. "I suppose I ought to be going; your monster's looking a bit angry and dejected. Have a nice day, pumpkin." With that, Gabriel vanished.
Lenore went back to the couch, giving Bishop his squeaky toy to play with and letting him down on the floor. "Well, that was a nice visit," she remarked.
"That was a nightmare," Erik contradicted. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I've most likely acquired a bridesmaid," Lenore replied.
"I refuse to create a gown for Sariel," Erik snarled. He was not only making Lenore's gown, but Ember's as well. (Ember was the matron of honor.)
"You want her to go naked?"
"No, but I don't intend to make a dress for her either."
"Well, she can't buy something in a store, nothing would match the gowns you're making."
Erik growled low in his throat again. The argument had gone on for ten hours before he finally conceded. He was sketching a gown for that loathed archangel while Lenore slept soundly in the bed, Bishop curled up next to her. Deciding the sketch could wait to be finished, he headed for the bed, wanting to hold Lenore in his arms in the attempt to make him feel better for yelling a good number of profanities and insults at her during their conflict over Sariel's gown.
The moment Erik reached the bedside, Bishop leapt to his feet, going up on his toes and arching his back. While spitting and hissing furiously, he puffed up his fur to look more intimidating.
"Damn archangels," Erik mumbled. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, he gently hit Bishop with it. "Shut up, you stupid cat, you'll wake her up." Dropping the pillow on the floor, Erik stretched out on the cold stone. Curse Uriel, I can't even lay in the same bed as my future wife because of his mangy cat.
Erik was awoken in the morning when something hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. There was a frightful squeal.
"Erik, what are you doing on the floor?" Lenore asked. Her foot was hovering a few inches above his stomach; it seemed she had gone to step out of bed and managed to step on him instead.
"Bishop didn't want to share the bed," Erik snarled, getting to his feet. "Perhaps you should marry him and I'll be the pet."
"I don't think his collar would fit around your neck," Lenore replied.
"Oh, surely you'll have him take us out to buy me a new one, and some toys that will be to my liking, and suitable food," Erik retorted.
"You know, it's gonna be difficult for me to carry you to the kitchen for breakfast…" Lenore observed.
"Don't trouble yourself; I'll just scamper in and wait for you."
Lenore was coming seriously close to just slapping him. Erik had spent the entire morning playing the ruse that he was the pet and Bishop was the future husband. He refused to finish the sketch of Sariel's gown ("That's Bishop's job, we pets don't draw."), and most of the morning, he chased Bishop around the house, hissing at him and scaring her poor cat half to death.
As he chased Bishop through the drawing room yet again, Lenore decided to put an end to Erik shortening the lifespan of her cat by terrifying the poor dear. When he came past the sofa, she grabbed his arm and yanked him down onto to her lap. His landing was quite painful, as he weighed more than she did, but she'd deal with it.
"Erik, stop chasing my fiancée," she ordered, stroking his hair as if he truly were the pet.
He merely growled in response, squirming about to get off the couch and return his pursuit.
Lenore tightened her grip on him. "If you won't behave, I'll have to shut you in the bathroom for the afternoon."
"Let go," he snarled, squirming ineffectually in her embrace.
"No. You need to calm down, you're too excited," Lenore stated. "Maybe I should feed you, it is about lunchtime. And I'll have to give you a bath this evening, you've probably been in all sorts of dusty places when you were playing today."
Erik glared daggers at her. "I don't need you to feed me or give me a bath."
"If you act like a pet, I'll treat you like it," she replied sternly. "Are you done playing the part now, or do we need to continue this little exercise?"
Erik sighed angrily. "Fine," he conceded, ceasing his struggle to get loose. "I hate that cat. Can't we give it to Ember or perhaps Mark and Tori?"
"You know, if you apologized to Uriel, maybe he'd make the cat stop hating you," Lenore mused.
"There is nothing to apologize for," Erik replied, maintaining his position on her lap placidly.
"You cut off his wing!"
"Yes, well…He tried to run me through."
"But he didn't actually manage to," Lenore argued.
"Only because Raghnall stopped him; otherwise I'd be dead and you could be with your precious Uriel," Erik snarled.
"Be honest! You cut his wing off out of spite because you were jealous," Lenore declared.
"Jealous of nature boy? That's ridiculous," Erik said testily.
"Erik, get off of me," Lenore commanded.
"Why?"
"Two reasons. One, you're lying to me. Two, I can't feel my legs anymore."
Erik stood, crossing his arms. "Alright. Perhaps…when I saw him kissing you, I was…a bit…jealous. But only a slight bit!" Erik finally admitted.
"Only a slight bit?"
"I knew you wouldn't love him in the same way you do me," Erik claimed.
"Oh? Didn't you say something like "I do not suffer fools who dare to touch what is mine"? That sounds more than a slight bit jealous," Lenore commented. It was silent a few minutes, and finally Lenore sighed. "You're too stubborn to admit the truth to me."
"Fine!" Erik shouted angrily, his eyes conveying his anger. "I was insanely jealous! I was afraid you might show yourself to be another Christine, and leave me for some perfectly handsome and noble fop! Was it wrong of me to be concerned? No! If you ever had the only person you ever truly loved leave you for another, you'd have felt the same!"
"The only person you ever truly loved?" Lenore yelled back. "Thank you so much for letting me know where I stand, Erik!"
"I didn't mean it that way!"
"You don't say something you don't mean!"
"Do you honestly believe I don't love you?"
"Well, you're the one who said Christine was the only woman you ever really loved!"
"When you died, I held your cold body in my arms for four hours! I only let go because Hiroshi pried you out of my grasp! I sculpted an exquisite glass coffin for you and preserved your body all these years! I spent almost every waking moment in that tomb with you! I died with you, Lenore!"
He died when Christine left him too…and if he truly loved her… "I'm sorry," Lenore apologized softly. "I didn't mean to…when you said…I just…I got jealous."
"Jealous of a woman who's been dead for one hundred and twenty years," Erik pointed out.
"You got jealous of the cat," she countered. "Besides, I don't want to worry that you loved her more than me, that's all. I don't want to constantly be reminded that there was someone before me. It makes me feel like I'm just second-best."
Erik took her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "Je t'aime, Lenore. More than I've ever loved another being in all my life," he whispered in her ear.
"More than you love yourself?"
"More than myself," he agreed. "Je t'aime mon amour, et je t'aimerai toujours."
"I don't know French, Erik," Lenore reminded him.
"It means "I love you, my darling, and I will love you forever"," Erik explained.
"Ich glaube demselben, meiner Liebe," Lenore replied.
"Well, I'm afraid I don't speak German."
"I feel the same, my love," she translated.
"Well, at least I've been referenced in this chapter," Ember sighed, clearly wanting to be more than referenced.
"Hush, muffin, cupcake's gone and caught another nasty cold. She doesn't need your complaints right now," Hiroshi chided, shooting a glare at the woman he had chained to the wall.
"In some ways, I'm almost glad that I released you in return for saving me from Ember's wrath," Tammy said. "Then again, I am somewhat disturbed by the fact that you're hovering at my side. It seems like you're just waiting for a chance to grope me…"
"Were you expecting him to serve you tea?" Erik asked, chuckling at the thought.
"No, I don't like tea…I equate tea with fire…"
"Yes, you really are quite pathetic," Erik remarked.
"Be nice to Tammy. Or else she'll do something perfectly dreadful to get her revenge!" Lenore warned.
"Oh, do continue taunting her Erik, it would make an excellent study," Raghnall pleaded while Uriel whimpered at the thought of Tammy and her ways of getting revenge.
"I should remove Uriel's gag," Tammy noted, preparing to get up and have a bit of fun with her archangel.
"Creampuff would love to hear from the readers, so please do review," Hiroshi addressed the audience.
"No! Bad immortal! No stealing the keyboard!" Tammy shouted. Her eyes widened in fear. "Hiroshi, put down that rope! If you don't put that rope down…what's that gleam in your eye? Don't come any closer….AGH!!!"