A/N - Thank.you Kimberly84 for your kind words :)

--xxx--

Since Erik's disclosure regarding his activities in Persia Meg had always made excuses to avoid private dining. At first her refusals had been due to fear, for what he had told her went beyond her worst nightmares, but following her visit with Christine she had come to realise her reluctance was caused by something more.

She had recieved a note from her bethrothed requesting she join him for dinner via the concierge, as bad become their custom. It wouldn't have been difficult for Erik to find her, she had spent most of the day in her suite practicing, but she assumed that even the fabled Phantom of the Opera could only face rejection a limited number of times.

Before Erik had told her about Persia Meg would have fretted about her choice of clothing and how she wore her hair and make-up, but now she merely made herself feel presentable. Something had changed: before she had wanted Erik to desire her, to realise he loved her, but now she felt she needed to distance herself from such feelings until she could reconcile the man she had come to know with the self-proclaimed Angel of Death.

She she cheked her appearance once more in the mirror the dancer wished that her emotions were as fickle as some of the other women she had known; that way she could ignore her feelings for Erik and bide her time until they went their seperate ways. Instead she found herself wrestling with her utter disdain at how casually Erik had spoken of bloodlust and the all-consuming compassion she felt for his plight. She wanted to know what had driven a man who had shown her kindness, compassion and friendship to become a cold-blooded murderer.

When Meg arrived for dinner Erik found himself slightly dissapionted in her appearance. He had a penchant for beautiful things and there was no denying Meg was beautiful, but her effort that evening seemed substandard. She worea green dress embrodered with deeper green vines across her skirt, her blouse was a matching colour and trimmed with white lace to the neckline. The neckline was much higher than her normal evening attire and he windered whether this was due to the incident in the alleyway and if she had finally tired of his lecherous behaviour. The dress was beautiful, but without her accompanying smile the whole ensemble just looked substandard.

Noticing his apparent discourse Meg immediately enquired if something was wrong, only to be rebuffed with complaints about tardiness and how he was not a paitent man. Meg had made a long glance towards the clock and rolled her eyes; she was under five minutes late.

They ate in relative silence for the first two courses before Erik thumped his palm onto the table in an outburst of frustrated emotion. The sudden break in the peace caused he to drop her fork, causing it to clatter onto the china plate.

"Can you no longer speak?"

She was surpised her silence had irked him as he had previously complained about her "chatter" and "blathering", claiming to be a man who preferred silence.

"Do you not care to enquire after my day?" Erik continued when she failed to respond to his intial question. Meg Giry was truly insufferable. The woman was meant to be his fiancée and yet she cared not for how his day had been. "You are my fiancée after all" he said sharply in an attempt to evoke a response.

"Of course Erik dear. How was your day?" not attempting to hide her sarcastic tone. She didn't understand his behaviour; he had become more aloof and abrupt since their arrival in England. She fiddled with her engagement to try and occupy her hands while she prepared for Erik's ranting.

Following Meg's response Erik sat back in his chair amused and slightly irritated by her impudence. The use of such an endearment was an attempt to mock him, and a clever one considering he had referred to his position of authority over her. But once again, Marguerite appeared to have forgotten that she.could not manipulate the master manipulator.

"I am glad you asked Marguerite, my sweet", his tone now mimicked hers. "I discussed your role with our new employers. They agreed that you should be the lead dancer, not a prima ballerina as the show doesn't have one, but it is an equivalent position"

Meg squeeled in excitement. She immediately felt guilty for being curlish, for Erik must've used some leverage to get her the position without her auditioning.

"oh Erik that is wonderful!" he stood and hurridly moved to embrace him. The embrace was not easy as he remained seated but she threw both arms around his chest and hugged him regardless. "I hoped I would get a.solo or.two, but to be prima already - it is more than I could have wished for"

Erik couldn't supress the smile caused by her sheer joy, knowing she would be even happier when she discovered she wouldn't have to do any jêtês or dance en pointest importantantly, he had made something she believed only attainable in her dreams come true.

"Thank you Erik" she said for the third time before releasing him from the hug and gave him a peck on his masked cheek. He felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had made her happy, and that his next piece of news would make her happier. He knew he had caused her pain, and he hoped that this rather small gesture would be enough to let her overlook his confessions about Persia.

"I must confess, the reason you are not prima ballerina is because the dance will be a mixture of classical ballet and more - shall we say - modern methods"

"Oh that is fine", she responded hurridly encasing him in hug once more. For Erik to have convinced their new employers to give her the position of lead dancer without an audition he must have sung her praises convincingly, "Will you listen to my ideas? I know it is your show, but will you let me help choreograph? Unofficially of course".

Erik couldn't place why, but her smile and excitement seemed contagious. Meg was standing before him bobbing up and down in the same way a small child tried to exert unused energy. He had seen her smile many times, a beautiful broad smile that made her eyes brighter and added to her beauty, but the smile she currently wore

wqs special: he had caused it. Erik knew he had made her smile many times, but his smile was caused by his own actions; actio s he had purposefully done for her. He felt himself smile as she hugged him again in anticipation of his answer

"I am sure your insight would be invaluable my dear", this time when used the endearment there was no hint of sarcasm in his voice, "but there will be no jêtês or pointe work".

Meg took a few steps backwards, looking and feeling confused. Erik had never shown much interest in ballet, but he had respected her mother's choreography, and jêtês and pointe work were integral features. She didn't understand.

"Why will there be no jêtês or pointe work? They are essential to ballet and I want to do them"

Erik once again felt his irritation rise. Marguerite Giry was being ungrateful - again. He was purposefully leaving jêtês and pointe work out of his work because of the risk of injury to her. After everything he had done, everything he was still doing; she continued to be ungrateful.

"Why? Why?" he roared as he stood, "to prevent yourself from injury you ungrateful chit". It was more than he had intended on saying, but her effrontery towards his role as director and composer, combinded her thanklessness had clouded his mind.

Meg had distanced herself from Erik the moment he had stood. Upon hearing his confession her jaw went slack and she rushed towards him.

The impact of her embrace caused Erik to take a few steps back, but he found himself smiling broadly at the tightness of her hold.