Although Meg had enjoyed her morning spent with Erik at the British Museum, the entire day had been emotionally draining. They had parted on positive terms, their friendship reaffirmed and there existed an agreement that they would dine together later that evening, but her feelings had once again been shifted following her meeting with André and Firmin.

After they had bid each other farewell she had felt privileged that Erik trusted her with his troubled of his past, and although he had been clear his feelings contained no romantic inclinations, she felt like an emotional connection had been established between them. Meg knew she could never fully understand or comprehend what it must have been like for Erik to travel the world as a human oddity, nor could she imagine how it must have felt for him to finally have some form of acceptance in Persia, even though it was a guise. She accepted that Erik's behaviour, his inter-personal skills and his volitle nature had been shaped by his experiences, amd as a consequence she felt like she knew Erik the man, rather than the Opera Ghost, Phantom or Angel of Doom.

Although her acceptance of Erik remained unwavering, her state of contentment ended when she discovered Erik knew the idnetify of her employers, yet her had failed to tell her, and that he planned to have Christine perform the lead role in his new production. Once again she felt like she was going to be cast aside and overshadowed by Christine. Foolishly, childishly even, she had hoped Erik's latest work would be an ode to her skills, something to show his appreciation for all she had sacrificed. But instead it would once again focus upon Christine, as everything always did. Christine was Erik's muse, and Meg was an inconvenience.

--xxx--

Several hours had passed since Erik had returned from his meeting with Christine, and although he had been reluctant to watch her leave and return to her Vicomte, he was actually looking forward to spending the evening with Meg and starting to map out the choreography for the production.

Having heard Christine sing, and easily secured a promise of further meetings, he had already started to plan how to best to adjust his current score to meet her new needs and her forthcoming abilities. Her voice had matured since he had last heard her sing, and as a consequence it was more divine than he could ever have anticipated. He was smiling as he dressed for his next outing, eagerly awaiting Meg's expression when she saw how he was dressed and where he was taking her.

When Meg didn't appear at the agreed time he was initially concerned, but as the minutes passed he became more irritiated and short-tempered. He began to suspect she had made a gentleman friend while visiting the theatre, possibly that lercherous cad Fermin, and was currently being wined and dined in an attempt to seduce her. After having such thoughts his irritation grew to annoyance and he began to curse her fickle emotions and disrespect towards him.

Driven by his emotions Erik marched to Meg's suite and banged unceremoniously on her door. Several other guests gave him concerned glances and one gentleman threatened him with the police. Eventually the door opened for Erik to find a very confused and tired looking Meg Giry.

Erik felt a strange sense if satisfaction when he saw the look Meg's face. It was immediately clear that it had taken her a few moments to register who had been banging on her door due to his uncharacteristic attire. He no longer donned the fashionable clothing of an English gentleman, instead he wore a dark navy cheviot suit, off-white shirt, dark grey tie and a bowler hat. He certainly didn't like his current clothes, but they were perfect for the evening's plans.

Contrary to his appearance, Meg's current attire and dishevelled look added to his previous annoyance. It was clear she hadn't dressed for dinner and probably had no intention if meeting him; something he found rude and insulting. Of he hadn't needed her to accompany him he would've walked away from her at that moment, but as he needed someone whose talent he respected to choreograph his production, he needed her to accompany him tonight. There wasn't time for her to fix her hair and make-up, nor was there time to explain.

"Get changed. Wear something more inconspicious" he said waving his hand up and down indicating his displeasure with her dress.

"Go away Erik. I do not want to see you right now". Her response was not what he had been expecting, but he paid no heed. Instead he ignored her remark and pushed open the door and went directly to her room. He really didn't have time for whatever game she was trying to play, so it would be easiest if he were to select her outfit for her.

Choosing a dark green skirt and pale green blouse from her wardrobe he commanded "Wear these and change your hair" before tossing the items on her bed. "Wear you hair in a simular style to a maid's, or wear it down. Either way, you can't go out with it looking like that"

"I said I didnt want to see you".

Her repetition fanned his annoyance. He didn't understand why she was so infuriatiting. Not only had she missed their dinner appointment because she was off out with a man, she was now insulting him by implying he had done something wrong.

"Do you want to help me choreograph? If so, change. I shan't offer this opportunity again Marguerite"

"Don't you want to know why I am upset with you?" Meg asked tentatively as she collected the items of clothing thrown on her bed and made her way towards the changing screen.

"Not really". His reply wasn't entirely true, but he knew they didn't have time to pick apart whatever he was meant to have done to offend her sensibilities.

"Erik, why are you behaving like this?". Her voice was timid, and it unsettled him. He had made Meg shrink away from him before, he had heard her cry when she thought she was alone, but her current tone caused him more concern than he cared to admit.

Whatever she believed he had done was obviously inconsiderate. As always he rationalised this by reminding himself that he was not responsible for Meg's actions, he did not ask her to lie for him, and she was aware of what type of man he was. She was the orchestrator of her own destiny.

"We don't have time for this Marguerite. I was knocking on your door for longer than I care to mention. Take the opportunity to accompany me or dont - it's your choice - but if you don't then you shan't have the opportunity again".

--xxx--

Meg felt incredibly uncomfortable after Erik had sent their cab away and told her they would walk the rest of the distance to the club. The night was colder than she had expected and her shawl was not keeping her warm. As per custom her arm was linked with Erik's as they hurried through the narrow streets of a part of London she had never visited. She dared not ask him why he was treating her as an inconvenience when he had asked her to accompany him, for his mood seemed more Phantomesque than usual.

Meg had tried to explain that she didn't intentionally miss their dinner arrangement and that she had fallen asleep from the day's exertions and been unaware of the tims, but that only seemed to annoy him more. He had mumbled something about knowing "the type of exertions she was engaged in" before returning to a stoic and unfeeling pose, leaving her feeling more.confused by his actions.

The wind was sharp, and as Erik led her through the street she felt as though itnl was passing through her, causing her to shiver. Seeing her discomfort Erik immediately removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders to provide her with some comfort. Meg tried to pull it tighter, noticing how it carried his smell, before Erik took hold of her left hand and thumbed her engagement ring.

"Take that off", he hissed into her ear, "it isn't safe wearing something like that in this part of the city".

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by "this part of the city" as it looked like most other parts she had been to, but she slipped off the ring and placed it in Erik's jacket pocket.

When Meg reached their destination the colour drained from her face.

"I cant go in there! It isn't respectable".

He chuckled at her protests, but easily led her inside to the cosy corner he had reserved. Meg shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the women came on the stage dressed in plumes of feathers. She had danced scantily clad before, but ballet was art, the way these women moved wasn't graceful, it was seductive. They danced upon the tables, performed overtly seductive movements only a few feet from the men, and one even began to undress on stage. As far as Meg was concerned there appeared to be no choreography, no technique, instead everything the women did was free movement.

Erik throughly enjoyed seeing Meg's expressions, although some reactions indicated she was more innocent than he had previously believed. He did enjoy her shock, but what he found most interesting was how Meg's eyeline focused on the performer's feet and lines, assessing how they moved, all while she tapped her fingers on the table in time to the music. He could tell she was judging them and evaluating their technique, reinforcing his belief that she was perfect for the role he had given her.

They didn't speak until they were in a cab heading back to the hotel. Meg still wore Erik's jacket and she felt a slight twinge of guilt when she remembered his slight frame. It wasn't that she couldn't see Erik was unusually skinny, she had just become accustomed to him that she no longer noticed how different his appearance was from the average man (except the mask of course). When she had offered to return it her had refused, as the gentleman she knew he was, and they continued to ride in silence until Erik finally asked her a question relating to his production.

It had taken Erik longer than customery to address why he had taken Meg to a burlesque caberet. He didn't find the women and their dance particularly arousing, but once he had began to imagine Meg in the role he had become uncomfortable and needed to try and regulate his thoughts. He didn't like that Meg still roused his carnal desires when he had been with Christine earlier that day, he simply couldn't understand why his body would so willingly betray his heart.

"Can you dance like those women?".

"Can I? Yes. Will I? No", she didn't look at him as she spoke, instead looking out the window into the all-encompassing bleakness of London at night, "You said I'd never dance in a Vaudville show. You also told me you didn't want me to dance en pointe for my own good, but now I see that was a lie. Another manipulatuon"

Erik wasn't sure what she meant by "another manipulation", but he certainly wasn't trying to manipulate her. The only person he believed knew her craft better than Meg was her mother, and there was no way he would ask Antionette to dance caberet.

"There is no manipulation Meg. I meant what I said, when I said it. But I will give the buffoons who have emoloyed us credit when it is due. They are correct that a fusion of revue and traditional entertainment will bring in a tidy sum and make headlines. Two things that are Good for careers"

"Erik, I don't want to dance like that. My mother would...well...have a heart attack. I've trained so hard to be a ballet dancer, and although I want to dance with jêtês and pointe work, I can accept that you wont include them. But this...this...it's caberet, it isnt art."

And there it was again. Her ignorance. It made Erik's blood boil. He couldn't comprehend how an intelligent and well-read woman like Meg could be so narrow minded when it came to different expressions of art.

"Enough" was all he could manage before turning away from her to look out of his respective window.

--xxx--

Once they were back at the hotel they walked arm-in-arm, as any engaged couple would, as Erik escorted her to her room. Once at the door Meg finally found the courage to address the elephant in the room; he was already upset with her so asking him directly wouldn't damage their relationship any further.

"Do you want to know why I am upset with you?". She looked at him expectantly and could tell from the look in his eyes he wanted to know, even if he wouldn't admit it. "You didn't tell me about the managers"

"It didn't seem important. It doesn't effect your work".

"I looked foolish Erik. They assumed we don't talk. You have said that I need to act like your fiancée, but the same can be said for you"

"Then I shall.", he spoke with a huff simular to a child who had been chastised for not doing as it were told, "keep the coat for this evening Meg, and I shall see you in the morn". He then kissed her hand and hurried away.

Once back in her room she reached into Erik's pcket and removed her ring, also finding an envelope in the process. As soon as she saw the handwriting on the front the pieces fell into place; she now understood why Raoul had seen overly concerned about the possibility of Christine singing, and why Erik had willingly accompanied her to England even though it would have been deemed acceptable for him to remain in the USA. Erik and Christine had been corresponding, and although her letters didn't announce her undying love, the mere fact she had written to him gave him hope. But they shattered hers.

--xxx--

Erik was relieved when he had finally left Meg's company. He had found it incredibly difficult to be around her with images of her dancing caberet and burlesque in his mind. Even when she was complaining about his inconsiderate nature outside her suite he had wanted to kiss her. He couldn't help but find her fire and passion alluring, combined with her kindness, compassion and beauty she was difficult to resist. He had accepted Meg was genuinely compassionate, that was why he had trusted her with knowledge of his past, but he didn't want to be lured into her web - not when he was so close to having Christine.

It had been thoughts of Christine and her letters that had prevented him from acting upon his lust. As he had walked away from Meg he had decided to read his angel's letters and then replace the images of Meg with Christine. It wasn't until he was back in his own suite he remembered he had left the letters in his jacket pocket. That damnable woman had caused him to make a mistake, and if she told the Vicomte it would ruin his carefully laid out plans.

--xxx--

It was easy for Erik to pick the lock to Meg's room. He intended on rifling through her things, finding his letter and then leaving. He hoped that in the morning she wouldn't bring it up the letters or fear of embarrassment, and if she did press the issue he would insist that as both his and Christine's friend she should want them happy.

After searching the lounge area he knew he would need to go into her room. The door was ajar and when he entered the moonlight seeped through the door causing her to stir, so he quietly pushed it to to.ensure the room was once again cloaked in darkness.

Meg had fallen asleep in her chemise ontop of the coverlet. Meg nornally took great care in her skin care regime, so.Erik was slightly surprised she hadnt removed her make-up and that there were dark smuges around her eyes and down her cheeks. She had been crying.

Erik cursed the insufferable curosity of women before taking her shawl from the chair and placing over her - it wasnt much, but it was better than nothing. As he did so her eyes fluttered open and grew wide as she scambled backwards trying to create distance betqeen herself and the intruder.

"Calm yourself Marguerite. It is only I"

"What are you doing here? How dare you enter my room univited" she hissed, before respositioning herself into a kneeling position atop the bed.

Erik wasn't sure why he said it, but if asked he would have laid the blame at the unfulfilled sexual frustration from earlier in the evening. "Would you invite me Meg, my dear", he stepped towards her reaching out his hand for hers.

Meg reached out one hand before withdrawing it to consider her action. The moment their eyes met she offered him her hand and he pulled her upright so that their faces were mere inches apart.

Her hair was dishevelled from sleep and Erik used a single finger to placea stray strand behind her ear, before bending lower and repeating his question in a whisper. Taking his other hand he rested it on her hip, "well?"

Meg reached up, her hand shaking and ran her fingers along the side of his mask as she considered giving herself to him, making him realise that she loved him. Surely if she showed him that even though she knew his past, even though she knew all he had dine, she loved him, surely then he would understand. .. He would see she was virtuous and fully understand how much she cared for him

Meg ran her second hand down the front of his shirt stopping at the top of his trousers, before running it back up and she started to undo his shirt buttons. She had managed the first three before he grabbed her wrists. It was a battle of will and he was losing. If she looked down he knew she would see what she was doing to him. He assured himself it was a natural reaction, a beautiful woman had started to undress him, he had been to a burlesque show and seen his angel earlier thay day; his reaction was competely natural.

Erik let go of her wrists and gently pushed her shoulders so she fell backwards onto the bed, respositioning himself so that he was straddling her. Meg reached for his neck and pulled him closer, running her hands over the hair of his wig until she found the wire of his mask. He began to lace light kisses along her collar bone and on her decolletage, but he stopped the moment her hands move to the forbidden territory.

"It would be easier without it" she said quietly as she moved her unoccupied hand to his chest to restart on his shirt buttons.

Suddenly the memories of Christine removing his mask came flooding back, and pushed himself away from Meg. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened beneath the opera house in Paris; he didn't want Meg to recoil on fear and for his anger to turn to a violent rage. It didn't matter she had seen him unmasked before, she was not going to see him now.

In order to gain some resembelence of control he refocused his mind and energy in why he had come to her room. The purpose hadn't been to fufil his desires, it had been to fetch his most precious pocessions and the chit Meg Giry had once again led him astray.

"Where are my letters?"

Meg let out an exasperated grasp before sitting up and folding her arms defensively.

"Why do you obsess over her? She doesn't love you the way you want".

"Is that why you cried yourself to sleep after reading it Marguerite? Because she doesn't love me?, he knew the words were hurtful, but he didn't care, "where is my property?"

Resigned she took the letters from from under her pillow and with tears forming in her eyes and handed them to him. Then without speaking she got up off the bed and opened the box upon her dresser. Taking out her elaborate enagement ring she handed it him

"I'm done with this Erik", she spoke through tears, "I'm tired. You are now free to do what you wish. My heart can't take this anymore"