A/N: Sorry about this, another shuffle is called for. Evidently I cannot post an author's note in place of a chapter as I did.
Here's the note: The Risque Chapters were left up for a week. i can't post them here without jeopardizing my rating and getting ousted from Fanfic. i'll find them a home in the "M" section--I promise.

The Previous note was to replace that chapter, but it,too, can get me kicked out. I don't understand why--as it was only a couple of lines. So...I deleted those chapters, and moved this one into the slot. It will hose-up the reviews for the next one ('You already have posted--blah, blah). Send me a pm if you re inclined. We'll see how the next one goes.
The last thing i can think of to keep my account open? Maybe a pint of blood or my first-born grandchild? sigh


Chapter Fifty: Twelve Commandments

During the trip back to Paris, they played cards while rain painted the windows of the car with wavering colors beyond the glass. At the station, Nadir was waiting with a cab. He regarded Erik with a slight smile. "How was it?"

Erik nodded slowly. "It went well."

"Your grandchild?"

"He's beautiful. He's so bright, so full of promise."

"We were all that way once," Nadir replied.

Erik held out a hand to assist Mirielle from the platform of the rail car. She smiled down at Nadir. "Has he started bragging yet?" she teased.

Erik squinted at her. "Bragging? As if you wouldn't. You are his Grandmamma."

"So," Nadir cut in, "are they all coming to the wedding?"

"Yes. We've decided on the sixth."

Nadir's smile melted. "Of what? You mean the sixth of February? Just twelve days from now?"

"What's wrong with the sixth?"

Nadir stepped close to Mirielle. "We've been making plans, but there is still so much to do!"

Erik cocked his head and regarded the two. "What plans? We only need set up a time with the church…."

"There's a little more to it than that," Mirielle put in. "I have to secure a dress, and then there are flowers."

Nadir lifted his hands. "The guests? The dinner, or breakfast or lunch? The ushers! The seating arrangements! The gifts! The guest list and invitations!" He began to sputter. "The-the music, Erik! You aren't planning any music?"

"Invitations? We invited Mirielle's family."

"Don't worry, you two." Mirielle sat a hand on each of the men's arms. "I'm sure everything will come together just perfectly."

"Yes," Erik agreed. "Perfectly."

Nadir sent him a withering glare. "That's easy for you to say. You are just the groom. You get dressed and show up with a ring, while Mirielle and the ladies and I will be left to organize the whole wedding."

"I don't understand your worry, Nadir," Erik replied. "We dress up and see the priest. How difficult is that?"

Nadir rolled his eyes and looked to Mirielle for help. "You explain it to him."

She looked at Erik. "Did they pick up our bags?"

"I'll see," Erik replied, walking away towards the street.

"Nadir," she whispered. "The less he knows, the better. He will only start getting flustered by the whole thing."

Nadir flicked at his mustache impatiently. "You're right. The hardest part of all this is going to be keeping him distracted."

"I'm going to be at the apartment packing for the next few days. We can talk about it there." She stepped away and turned to see Erik coming back.

"Ready to go home?" He asked cheerily.

"Yes, dear man." She wrapped her arm through his. "But we should stop by the apartment and let the ladies know where I'll be."

Nadir followed them to the cab, blowing out a breath of cold air, and pondering how to stage a quiet campaign around a man of Erik's genius.


Catherine heard the door open. Stepping from the kitchen, she glimpsed Mirielle followed by the tall figure of Erik. Smiling, she saw Nadir coming through the door. "Hello everyone. How was your trip?"

Mirielle stopped before the little sofa. "We've picked the date. We're getting married on the sixth."

Noting the dark look on Nadir's face, Catherine asked. "Two weeks? That sixth? The sixth of February?"

"Yes," Mirielle replied.

Catherine came forward and gave Mirielle a hug. "I'm so happy for you." She sent a wink over Mirielle's shoulder to Nadir who finally began to smile. "We'll help, of course. Ursulé loves weddings, although she complains she cries at every one of them."

Releasing Mirielle she turned to Erik. "Congratulations, Monsieur." She offered a hand, which he enfolded in his long fingers. "You will take care of her for us?"

He nodded, his strange golden eyes looking deeply into hers. "Always."

Catherine suppressed a shiver. The finality of the word meant that even death would not dare to separate them. Chiding herself for such dark thoughts, she grinned. "Why do I believe that you have come then to spirit her away from us?"

Mirielle ducked her head shyly. "He won't let me go. But I will be coming over to pack and make arrangements."

"And I'll be stopping by to help," Nadir added. "If that is all right with you and Ursulé."

"Certainly, Nadir." Catherine felt her cheeks warming.

He addressed Erik. "We should come back in an hour or so. Mirielle can get a few things together."

"What?"

"We should give them some time…" Nadir stressed.

"For what?" Erik turned his full attention to Nadir.

Raising finger to his nose, Nadir indicated the door with his eyes. Erik recognized that sign. Nadir wanted a private moment.

"Go on, you two," Mirielle said.

Erik stepped towards the door. "An hour?"

"When ever," she replied airily.

As Erik stepped out onto the landing, Nadir hastily put himself between Erik and the door. "I'll keep him busy," he reassured the ladies as he pulled the door closed.

"Where are we going?" Erik asked.

"Come on, let's get a cup of coffee."

"We could do that here."

"No Erik," Nadir replied. "We can't." He started down the stairs. "It's time for woman talk."

"Oh." Erik took one last glance at Mirielle's door. "What do you think they will talk about?"

They stepped out into the wan winter sunlight. "Not them, Erik. Us."

"What?"

Nadir laughed. "You keep saying 'what'. You and I need to discuss living with women."

"We've been together for three days, daroga. I don't have any questions."

"You will," Nadir snorted.

"Like…" It was on the tip of his tongue to ask 'what'.

Nadir glanced hastily around them. "Women do things once a month." He stepped towards the curb and waved for a cab. "You must understand, things can get a little…awkward for a few days."

The cab rolled to a stop before them. Erik climbed in and waited till it pulled away from the curb. "What's awkward about it? I thought they just got very—well they gripe a lot and want chocolate don't they?"

Nadir nodded. "Chocolate is a man's only defense."

"Defense?"

"Truthfully, Erik. I don't see you as being any good at groveling, so you had better avail yourself of what wisdom I may offer."

Thinking back at the questions he had put to Nadir after his first night with Mirielle, Erik throttled the urge to scoff. "What sort of wisdom?"

Nadir regarded him solemnly. "We'll go to your place for coffee. You'll probably want to lace it with cognac by the time we are done."

"The sixth?" Catherine eyed Mirielle.

"He's never been married. He's a little worried something might happen."

"How did he get on with your family?"

"Very well. He's absolutely intrigued by little Henri."

"A doting Grandfather, eh?"

"Yes. The only one who balked the whole trip was Hilaire. I think she would have at anyone."

Catherine helped put Mirielle's things in the trunk. "You did write to them about…the mask didn't you?"

"No." Mirielle made a face. "I thought it would be better for them to just meet him outright. Really, I didn't know what to say. I thought Erik could explain it to them better than I could."

Catherine straightened and looked at the woman. "So I would be safe in assuming that you didn't tell them he lives under the Opera?"

"No."

"Are you going to live there?"

"We plan to. We also plan to travel."

"Mirielle, what are you going to do when they come to Paris? They will wonder why you haven't brought them to Erik's home."

Mirielle sighed. "I've thought about that."

Erik shrugged off his coat and dropped it and his hat on the sofa. "I'll start the coffee."

Nadir headed for the kitchen behind him. Taking up one of the chairs, he sat, crossing his forearms on the table's surface. "You are about to become one of the happiest men on the face of the earth. But that situation can turn in the blink of an eye."

"Are we back to women being tigers?"

"No." Nadir shook his head. "That's courtship. This is marriage. It's worse."

"Go on. I'm listening."

"What would you say if Mirielle paraded before you in a dress and asked if it made her look fat?"

Erik sat in the other chair. "Is she gaining weight?"

"Ah," Nadir raised a hand. "That is precisely the sort of thing that will land you on the sofa for the evening."

Erik's lips turned to a flat line at the edge of his mask. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa!"

"You will be if you take that attitude!" Nadir retorted. "Or worse."

"What's worse than being kicked out of your own bed?"

"Sleeping with an angry woman."

"I…." Erik didn't voice his thought. Mirielle had been angry with him and hurt when they had had their row in box five. Thinking about it made his stomach feel as if a stone had been dropped in it. "I should tell her she looks beautiful?"

"That sounds good, but I can tell you she will get huffy because now you haven't told her she isn't getting heavy."

"I should tell her she's not looking heavy? And that she's beautiful," he finished with no small amount of satisfaction.

Nadir tsked. "You just omitted the ninth commandment."

Erik blinked. "Omitted?"

"Did it! You did the ninth…."

"Committed, you mean. The ninth commandment as I recall was 'You shall not covet your neighbor's wife'. When did I do that?"

Nadir considered. "All right. Perhaps it's the twelfth commandment." He waved a hand. "What ever number it is it is impertinent that you never hesitate!"

"Slow down, daroga," Erik urged. "Your French is growing deplorable. Now, you are saying it is wrong to hesitate?"

"Absolutely!" He smacked the table top. "If you wait for one tiny moment, one small second, she will take it that you are thinking up a lie to appease her."

Erik looked down at his coffee cup. "Isn't that what I just did anyway?"

"You must never let her think you are trying to tell her what she hopes to hear."

"Even though that is what she wants?"

"Yes."

"God…." Erik sat his chin in his hand and regarded the Persian. "Do all women do this?"

Nadir made a face and shrugged. "We are all married to the same person, we just don't know it."

"Meaning?"

"I was the chief of police, Erik. I've heard this same complaint from men in two countries now. This is the one situation that will turn a man's guts to water. I'm telling you I have seen men of courage, fortitude, men who could laugh in the face of death turn into stone and choke on their own tongues when their wives ask them this question. It is, beyond all doubt, the most abhorrent thing you will face because there is no correct answer."

Erik got up from the table and walked to his parlor. He reappeared a moment later with his cognac decanter. "I have a feeling there is a lot more you are going to tell me."