Thank you for the reviews on chapter 50. It garnered many reactions, all welcome. The Fan Fiction police forbid us to name names here, but I shall highlight some of the feedback: Indeed, let the games begin. No, Erik won't be a pig, just a confused man. Punjabed and stabbed with dozens of black roses? Creative and funny. Catfight? Gab would kick Christine's skinny arse!

For those who now hate the author, this was planned from the beginning of my story, but fear not; there will be love and happiness for our dynamic multi-century duo. Now, get out your Punjab lassos…

Ch-51 Fear and Loathing in Paris

"Pretend you don't hear him Erik," I hissed in response to Monsieur Vincenzo's voice behind us. Erik narrowed his eyes and snorted when he heard the insistent man imploring him to stop. Erik halted in mid-step. We swiveled around in tandem to face the co-owner of the opera house.

"Is there a problem monsieur Vincenzo?" Erik asked with counterfeit concern.

"Oh no, no, no, Monsieur, nothing of the sort, I merely wished to congratulate you on another superb opera. From what I have gleaned, the audience is enthralled. This may well be your most engaging work to date. Why, the esteemed Vicomte Lieder has invited Monsieur de Montpensier and me to his salon on the condition that you and your fiancé accompany us."

"I'm afraid I am terribly busy Monsieur Vincenzo seeing that I am to be wed soon. Please give my sincere regrets to the Vicomte will you?"

Erik inclined his head politely at Vincenzo and made to leave when the man spoke again.

"But Monsieur DuPuis, he is the Lyric's most generous patron. It would be a grievous shame to upset the man, don't you agree?"

"Then let him ask me himself, monsieur." Erik was losing patience.

I offered the man our regrets in the form of a smile. It was then that he shot me with the night's second poison arrow.

"Oh incidentally Madame Thomassen," his said in an affably solicitous tone, "My memory of where I may know you from is coming into focus. Could you be related to a Mr. Jonathan Thomassen? He is an American and a man of significance to the scientific community, a cousin of your late husband perhaps?"

I hate it when people drop bombs like that. One always prays that one's eyes don't pop out in momentary disbelieve and ruin all hopes of maintaining a good poker face.

I feigned surprise by placing my hand over my heart and laughing indignantly, "Related to a scientist? An honorable occupation thought it is I am afraid your deduction cannot be true—my late husband's people were land Barrons, not inventors, Monsieur. Besides, I attended university and I do not recall hearing of a scientist with my husband's name. That, I'm positive I would remember…"

Erik interrupted the man's probing, "We must be moving along dear, I've a long day tomorrow with your uncle. My architectural firm is bidding a significant project and it would do me no good to be weary, good evening to you Monsieur Vincenzo." Erik bowed and then tugged me toward the door.

Moments passed like hours before we stepped through the back entrance and onto the cobblestones. I was relieved to see Erik's brougham ready and waiting.

Erik rounded the right side and stepped into the driver's seat, sliding across to offer me a hand up in to the carriage. His eyes burned phosphorus in the gas lamplight yet his demeanor was solicitously attentive, as if he felt he needed to make up for some impropriety.

"Careful my darling, there you go," he said when I'd gotten my skirts situated and settled into my seat.

He reached into a compartment behind the bench and withdrew a wool blanket. "This night has turned quite chilly. The farther we venture into the countryside, the cooler it will be. It would be tragic if you caught a chill and were bed ridden before your wedding, darling."

Erik laid the blanket over my knees and tucked it around my waist with the gentleness of a mother with her babe. He kissed my forehead.

"Comfortable dear?"

"Just perfect, thank you."

"Then let's be off."

The streets were crowded as was normal for an evening in Paris. Erik maneuvered the brougham expertly around the cabriolets, carriages and pedestrian traffic before reaching the sparsely populated perimeter of the city. There was no moon tonight and the country road leading to DuPuis manor was dark as pitch; save for the brilliance of the stars.

I knew Erik had keen night vision and often wondered if his innate abilities included infrared sight. He drove the horse and buggy effortlessly through the countryside toward the estate as if it were midday.

Erik hummed a light aria from tonight's opera and I tried to absorb myself with the beauty of his tune, however the little gerbil spinning furiously in the wheel of my brain would not allow me to lose myself in the beauty of his music and so I attempted conversation.

"Erik, your opera was beyond amazing. I think the company handled it well, don't you?"

"For the most part, yes, they were good. I left a list of instructions for Monsieur Vincenzo to pass along to the director."

"Oh, that was what you gave him before we left. I hope he does as he's told. I don't trust that weasel."

"He had better, or there will be hell to pay."

"No doubt—Erik, you would do nearly anything I asked of you, right?"

"Nearly, what sort of service do you require of me dearest?"

"Go kick Monsieur Vincenzo's ass would you please. It would make me deliriously happy." I said dryly.

Erik laughed, "Would it now? A delightful suggestion indeed; I have been mulling over the man's intrusive interest in your business Gabrielle, I never considered him the shrewdest of men, but he knows something crucial and he is playing cat and mouse with you and I do not like it." Erik's face was set in stone when he said this.

"That stuff about the scientist; my dad is a scientist whose last name is, of course Thomassen. How could he know that? God Erik you don't think Vincenzo is also a time traveler do you? Is that even possible, I mean…its not impossible is it? After all I'm one."

"Indeed, it is possible, though I do not think it probable, Gabrielle. He claims to be French-Italian yet there is something that doesn't ring true about the man." Erik's voice trailed off.

"You know Erik; he is weird in that doesn't-fit-in sort of way. Gaaah! What will I do if it's true? First your ex love interest shows up and bats her eyelashes at you then this Vincenzo dude…and this night held such promise to be the best one of both my lives…"

"Gabrielle, you worry for naught. What harm could this man cause you if he does possess knowledge of your past? Suppose that he is a time traveler, he too has secrets of which he would not wish to divulge. Do not worry about him. If he does prove to be a problem, I will deal with him accordingly."

"Erik, please, whatever you do, don't kill him, okay?"

"You think because I was a Governmental assassin that I have a permanent blood lust, Gabrielle? If I am pushed to kill it is for survival only and I've not spilled the blood of any living thing in many a year. Besides, I made a promise to a dear friend whom I've no intentions of breaking without good reason."

I could tell by the harshness in his voice that I'd managed to piss him off royally.

"No Erik, I don't think that at all," I sighed. "What I know is that many men would come close to killing anyone who threatened the life of their loved ones. However, I'm not stupid; you're a hot blooded and passionate Frenchman with a short fuse when it comes to suffering human nonsense."

I could see in the soft flame of the tiny coach lamp that his features had softened. Tonight had been an emotional merry-go-round for Erik. The anticipation of seeing his opera in public, seeing Christine and then dealing with that odd-ball Vincenzo; as freaked out as I was, I understood that Erik deserved some slack.

"Was it odd for you to see Christine again?" There, I blurted it out.

He rewarded my efforts with a brief silence and I was afraid I'd stepped into quicksand.

"Somewhat. One never knows what to say in such instances does one?"

"You know that's right. It's sad that her husband died so young and with no children to carry on the Chagny name. I know that's a big thing with you Victorian men, especially the nobles. Thank goodness she's not going to be left destitute as so many heirless widows are."

"Thank goodness," he agreed softly.

"I can see why you fell in love with her, she is beautiful, so petite, like Lennox china. And if she truly has the voice of an angel as you say, then, well— I know how you are about your music, Erik."

"Love is based on more than physical beauty and passion, Gabrielle."

"It had better be…I mean, look at us, we share enough interests to keep things amusing, but we are so different, I guess you could say a world of differences. But we like each other and we have respect and we're really good at that other thing too. Oh Erik, I love you with all that I am, I hope you realize that."

He reached for my hand and met my eyes, "Gabrielle, you need not worry about Christine. It is you that I want."

How did he know? Hell, Erik knew everything. I wanted to say: is that why your eyes lit up like the presidential Christmas tree when she mentioned auditioning for your next opera? Words I knew better than to say.

"Encountering a former love can be a sticky wicket. You never really forget them, but hat doesn't mean you would put up with their crap again for all the tea in China, as my grandmother used to say."

"Eloquently put, my dear."

"Before I forget, I want to thank you for a wonderful evening. Your sacrifice to me does not go un-noticed or unappreciated, Erik."

"Or un-rewarded." He smiled devilishly in reference to my performance in our box during the second act.

"You introduced me to an entirely new way of enjoying my music. Who could imagine that the mouth devoid of sound would make for such an excellent instrument? My music in concert with your talented mouth, Gabrielle—we must engage in another duet soon."

The man had a way of making me blush as no one else ever had before.

"I couldn't help myself. Your music is a powerful aphrodisiac, and you are so irresistible to me. I know I am forever touching your body, coming on to you, wanting to be made love to…"

The corner of Erik's mouth twisted up into a smile. He took his eyes from the road to focus on me.

"You flatter me so. To have a fascinating woman such as yourself desire the likes of me is beyond fathomable, Gabrielle, and I simple cannot get enough of you," he growled.

"I don't know Erik, sometimes I feel so suspect. Women of your time just don't do such naughty things unless they're loose Lucy's."

"Do you think me loose, Erik?"

"I do not think of you as loose, Gabrielle. I adore your passion for my body. Do feel at liberty to have me whenever the urge strikes you, darling."

I smiled up into those spectaculars jade eyes, which crinkled up at the corners merrily. I snuggled into the warmth of his cashmere cloak. "I'll take my payback when we get home tonight, that is if Monsieur DuPuis is not too tired."

"Highly unlikely," Snorted Erik in response.

The sound of hooves striking the hardened earth was the only discernable sound as we rode along in silence. It was at the turn onto the long drive leading to DuPuis Manor that I stirred from the edge of sleep. I sat up to stretch my arms and voiced a new and spontaneous thought.

"Erik, let's run off and get married tomorrow. Then I'll come back here and never leave the property again. All that I need is here. Plus, I don't even want to see or think of that jerk Vincenzo ever again."

Or that coquet, the Comtess.

He looped his free arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him, kissing my head and holding me tightly. "If it were possible Gabrielle, I would do so gladly. Cease your fretting my love. Erik will keep you safe."

For now, Erik's loving reassurances would keep me sane.

We made feverish love that night and afterwards, being emotionally and physically depleted, fell into a deep slumber.

25 September was a brilliant and warm fall day—my wedding day. The smell of roses permeated the air. I lowered my head for a whiff of the bouquet of white and coral roses in my hands. I was dressed in my wedding finery and the time had come to meet my groom. I stole one last look in the mirror before making my way to the garden. When I turned to go, she was standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here? This is my wedding day; you've no business at our nuptials!" I nearly spat blood at the woman in the gossamer gown.

"Why my dear, it is my wedding day," she replied sweetly through rosy lips partially obscured behind a wispy veil."

"Congratulations, now get lost. This is DuPuis Manor. Erik DuPuis and I will be wed within the hour. St. Brigid's is in the village down the road," I hissed.

"Oh no dear, that is where you are mistaken. Erik has chosen me as his bride. He loves me; he always has. You are merely his second choice and now that I have returned to claim what is mine, Erik does not need you, nor does he want you. Do what is right and proper and leave." Her dark curls bounced as she laughed at my expression.

I was pondering whether or not I ought remove my rings and take her down when we were interrupted.

"I am afraid she speaks the truth, Gabrielle."

I spun towards the sound of Erik's velvet voice and was astonished to see him standing there, dressed in his wedding suit, smiling at her.

"Erik, tell Christine that she is delusional, today is our wedding day. Remember wench," I jabbed an index finger at her, "You pushed him aside six years ago for Raoul. Remove your dear diva self from my sight now!"

Erik moved past me to the gown clad Christine, taking her hand in his.

"Christine has shown me that she is my one true love; no one can ever come between us. Forgive me Gabrielle, knowing you has been fun, really, but you need to move on with your life and I with mine."

He looked at Christine affectionately, "The processional has begun. Let us go and be wed my angel of music."

"No, you can't love her! You son of a bitch," I sobbed loudly against the searing pain building in my heart.

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Don't freak, don't flame, just review and then wait for the next chapter, which shall be up soon my lovies

Leesa