Erik stood on the sidewalk looking up at the office building that housed his company. He was proud of what he'd accomplished. He'd come so far from his life in the shadows. He'd fought hard and he'd won his place. Was he happy? He wasn't sure. If not happy, he was at least content with his life now and maybe that was all he could really hope for.

This was his first day back in the office after three interminable weeks at home recovering from his illness. He'd learned a lot in those three weeks. He learned that he had friends, real friends who cared deeply about him and that the man he believed himself to be was not the same man they knew.

Tom Walsh was the his first visitor, stopping over while on his beat.

.

He was wrapped in a silk robe staring out the window again, lost in thought. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately—thinking about his past. Was this a sign that it was going to rear its ugly head and smash him down again, or was it him avoiding thinking about his future, Lillian's loss, and Christine's reappearance in his life?

"Hey, Erik, how you doing?"

The door opened so swiftly, he'd been startled and barely had time to pull up his hood before Walsh walked in carrying a large sack and dumping its contents on a kitchen counter.

"I know you got a full kitchen downstairs, but I figured you might like some deli for a change; so I stopped over at Weiss's and got a little bit of everything." Walsh started pulling sandwiches together faster than Erik had ever seen. "I don't got a lot of time for lunch; got a meeting with the Commissioner this afternoon. His office isn't too far, so I figured we could eat together and I'd catch you up on the news of the neighborhood."

"I thought you were a precinct captain now, Tom. You haven't walked a beat in two years." Walsh rose quickly through the department ranks in the three years since the earthquake. He'd proven himself a leader in the early days, and that dedication was rewarded with quick promotions until he reached his present position.

Walsh shrugged at the comment. "Corned beef with mustard okay?"

"It's fine." Erik sat back in his chair, pulling his hood down closer to his face. He wasn't hungry at all, but he knew there was no use arguing. He suspected there was a conspiracy to get him to eat as Nasir wasn't able to get anything into him at breakfast except tea and Walsh didn't usually stop by on his lunch break.

Within a minute, Walsh set a corned beef on rye sandwich and kosher pickle on a plate in front of Erik. "Here ya go." Then he sat down on the nearby sofa and bit into the sandwich he'd made for himself. "Mmmm, good." Walsh had the remarkable ability to eat and speak clearly at the same time. "Come on, start eating. You're too skinny."

Tentatively, Erik picked up half a sandwich and took a bite. "It's good. Thank you." He saw that Walsh wasn't eating and he set the food back down on the plate. Walsh was staring at him in an uncomfortable and somewhat familiar way. It made him uneasy in a way he'd never felt before around the man. "Just say it, Tom."

Walsh looked out the windows for a few seconds then turned back. "Okay." He seemed to be gathering himself together before getting the words out. "You can lose the hood."

"What?"

"I know what you look like. You don't have to hide it."

Erik's stomach dropped. "How?"

"I stopped by the other night, when that lady was here." Walsh looked down at his plate. "You were on the floor, out cold. I helped get you back into bed."

Oh gods. He saw. Erik looked up at his friend. Was he still a friend? There was only one way to find out. He pulled back the hood, staring into Walsh's eyes. "This is me. The real me."

Walsh blinked, nodding his head slightly. "What happened to you?"

Erik shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing happened. I was born like this." There was no need to go into the whole story of his mother's decision.

"That must've made things tough growing up." Walsh wiped his hands on a napkin and swallowed some water. He seemed to be searching for something to say.

"Yes. It did." Erik's eyes were wide, watching the man's reactions, looking for when the strike would come.

Walsh stood and moved back to the kitchen area. Then he started wrapping the open food and putting it into the ice box. "When Mrs. Weiss heard it was for you, she threw in a 'few things' at no charge she said. In case you were a little more hungry than I thought."

Erik allowed himself a slight smile, thinking of the small, round, Jewish lady. She was always very nice to him, and he didn't think it had anything to do with him helping on the rebuilding of their business or their apartment over the shop. "Let me guess, she said something about having to 'put meat on my bones,' I believe are her usual words."

Walsh grinned at him. "Her exact words. The Weisses are good people."

"Yes they are." He sympathized with them more than they knew. From what little he'd learned, the family had been driven from their home in Bialystok by the pogroms. They knew what it was to be scorned for just being who they were.

"You know," Walsh continued, "there are a lot of good people here. You just have to give them a chance."

"That's easy for you to say." Erik looked at him straight on. "You look normal. No one's ever screamed in fear when they looked at you, or called you a demon, or a devil, or attacked you for just showing your face somewhere. I know you mean well, Tom. And truly, I do appreciate it." He shook his head sadly, looking away. "You just don't understand."

"You're right." Walsh's voice was soft. "I don't. I can't imagine what it's like to be you. But what I do know is the kind of man you are. I saw that first hand after the quake and over these past few years. And so have a lot of other people.

"Lillian knew, didn't she?"

Erik nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened every time he thought about her. "We'd known each other before she came to San Francisco. She's always known what I looked like."

"She was very protective of you." Walsh sat and leaned back against the cushions, stretching his arms across the top of the sofa. "I could tell the way she asked me to look out for you the morning she left. She loved you, you know."

"I know." Erik sighed, thinking again of their parting on the hill top. "I loved her, too."

"And your face didn't matter to her, did it?"

"No. It never mattered to her. In fact, she gave me almost the same lecture as you just did." He thought for a second, then looked sharply at Walsh. "How did you know?"

"I'm good at reading people. I could see it every time she looked at you. And she was so fierce when you were hurt." He grinned at the memory. "I think she had most of those Army officers cowed. They practically jumped every time she asked them for something."

"I can just imagine." Erik leaned back into his chair, talking of Lillian was painful. It was too soon.

They sat in silence for a little while, Walsh eating heartily while Erik just nibbled at his sandwich. I gotta go," Walsh said, looking at his pocket watch. "But I wish you'd think about what I said." He stood up, brushing crumbs off his uniform coat and sticking out his right hand. "I'll come by in a few days and see how you're doing. Okay?"

"Okay." Erik shook Tom's hand. "Thanks for lunch, Tom."

"The next one's on you." Walsh winked and shut the door behind him.

.

Erik gave a lot of thought to Tom's words. The idea of exposing himself, even to people he thought of as close friends scared him. But the policeman was right. If Erik truly wanted to make his life here, he'd have to open up and trust.

Near the end of his third week of convalescence, he sent an invitation by messenger to Danny and Alma Imperiali, inviting them to be his dinner guests at Club Incognito. After a dinner of steak and lobster with all the trimmings, Erik invited the Imperialis to his loft for coffee and dessert.

.

"Dessert?" Alma said. "Oh I don't think I could eat another bite. This was wonderful."

Erik smiled at the couple. "Please, if not dessert, then just coffee? Or brandy, or both?"

Danny looked at Alma. "I get the feeling he wants something."

"Of course, he does," Alma agreed. "It's just like when little Gino offers to do extra chores or suddenly wants to run errands for me. Either he wants something or he's done something. Either way, he has a motive for offering." She looked straight at Erik. "So which is it? Do you want something or have you done something?"

"I…I…neither." Erik swallowed against the nervous flutter in his stomach. These people meant so much to him, more than even he realized. He was terrified of being rejected by them once they learned his secret. "I just thought we'd be more comfortable upstairs."

Danny and Alma exchanged looks and then pushed back their chairs. Erik hurried to help Alma stand and then offered her his arm. "Don't worry, you don't have to walk all the way up. We'll take the elevator to the fourth floor and then it's just a single flight of stairs."

"All right," she said, "we'll be happy to join you for coffee, won't we Danny?

Danny winked at Erik. "Yes, dear."

Nasir stopped them on their way out of the club. "Excuse the intrusion, but may I have a word with Erik before he disappears for the night?" He waited until the couple walked toward the elevator, then pulled Erik aside. "It'll be fine. They're good people. Don't worry."

The smile left Erik's face. "I'm trying not to. But…."

He didn't need to say anything else. Nasir understood what his friend was feeling. No matter what he said, he knew his words were meaningless to the man. "Whatever happens, please try to keep your temper in check, at least until after they leave."

The two men locked eyes. They both knew Nasir spoke with honesty. Erik was afraid, as he hadn't been in a very long time. He simply nodded, and moved on to the elevator. No matter what happened, it would be over very quickly.

The brief ride up the elevator and walk up the last flight of stairs seemed interminable to Erik. With each step upwards, he felt as if he were going to the guillotine. His heart was pounding and he was sweating. He just hoped he could keep his hands from shaking long enough to pour brandy into some snifters.

They entered the loft and Alma immediately went to the windows. "Oh, this view is so beautiful. It must be lovely to see it every night."

"Yes. I find it very calming." Erik said, coming to stand beside her.

Alma turned, taking him by the arm. "Come, let's sit and you can tell us what's on your mind." She led him to the sofa and sat beside him, holding his hand. Danny stood at Erik's side. She exchanged glances with her husband before continuing. "Whatever it is, you can tell us. We're your friends, don't you know that?"

He nodded, fighting down the emotions clawing at his throat. "I….this isn't easy." He looked into Alma's eyes. "Just promise me you'll try not to scream. Please."

His words frightened her a little. She could sense he was afraid of something so she nodded in agreement, hoping she would be able to keep her word. "What could be so terrible that you can't share with friends?"

"This." He locked eyes with her, reached up with his free hand and removed his mask and hairpiece. He heard them both gasp and he closed his eyes as Alma's hand squeezed his. The next thing he felt was Alma's breath on his damaged cheek and her soft kiss.

"Oh, my poor darling," she whispered. "What happened to you?"

Danny's hand squeezed his shoulder as Erik opened his eyes. He looked at them both. Their eyes were filling and a tear slipped down Alma's cheek. She let go of his hand and pulled him to her shoulder, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Erik." He couldn't stop the tears rolling down his face. He just hugged her and felt her arms tighten even more as Danny rubbed his back and spoke softly. "It's okay, Buddy. It's okay."

Erik pushed back, wiping his face as he stood, then turned away from them. He was afraid to see their faces. "So now you know."

"Yeah, now we know," Danny said, moving to the bar at the end of the living space. "Where's the brandy? And I'm talking about the good stuff, not that junk you keep in the open."

Erik huffed a laugh. "You know I keep that hidden for special occasions. Bottom shelf, behind the ice bucket."

"Ah, got it." Danny stood triumphantly, the bottle held high. He poured the golden liquor into three snifters and carried them back to the low table in front of the sofa.

Erik reached for his mask and hairpiece. Danny held out a hand to stop him. "You don't have to cover up for us." Alma nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Erik said, pulling the cover back on. "I'd rather."

"Whatever makes you happy," Alma said, standing with the men to propose a toast. "Before I forget, is there anything else you want us to know, Erik?" She waited, secretly enjoying the look of confusion crossing his face before he shook his head. Then she raised her glass and looked Erik straight in the eyes. "To family." Glasses touched and they drank.

Erik stood dumbly, just watching the couple as they laughed and drank. This wasn't at all what he expected to happen. The loft door opened and Nasir walked in.

"Everything all right here?" It took all his will power not to smile. He knew it would be fine, he just needed to see that Erik knew it, too.

"Ah, Mr. Khan, welcome." Alma smiled at him. "You've come just in time. We're sharing the good stuff. May I pour you a glass?"

"He doesn't drink alcohol." Erik said, moving to the sink and pouring Nasir a glass of water.

"You two have been friends for a long time, haven't you?" Danny asked the newcomer joining them.

Nasir nodded. "Seems like forever." Then he did smile at the sideways frown Erik threw his way. "And the stories I could tell you."

"Well then, Mr. Khan, come here and sit next to me." Alma reseated herself on the sofa, patting the cushion beside her.

Nasir started to move toward her then stopped, catching Erik's eye. "I fear I must decline your kind offer." He made a point of looking at his watch. "It's late and I promised Erik's doctor that he'd get plenty of rest."

As if to emphasize his words, Erik started coughing. Alma looked at him sharply. "Mr. Khan's right. Erik, I think you've overextended yourself."

"I'm fine," he protested. "Besides, I've got to take you both home."

"I'll send them home in the carriage." Nasir said, bowing slightly to the couple. "I'll leave you to say your good nights. I'll be at the front entrance with the carriage in just a few minutes" He looked pointedly at the curtained sleeping area. "Good night, Erik."

The Imperialis followed him to the door. Danny reached out and shook Erik's hand. "Thank you for dinner, and thank you for trusting us. You're always welcome in our home. Always."

"Thank you, Danny." Erik returned the handshake then turned to Alma. "Good night, Alma."

She said nothing, just hugged him and pulled his face down so she could kiss his uncovered cheek. "You're a beautiful man, Erik Dantes. Don't you ever forget that."

"Yes, ma'am." He felt his throat closing and had to struggle to get the words out. "Thank you."

"And don't forget you still owe us dessert." She slapped his cheek lightly and followed her husband from the loft.

.

His life truly changed that night. Erik had convinced himself that Walsh's words were mere platitudes, said to make him feel better without a lot of meaning behind them. But the evening with Danny and Alma made him take a hard look at his life and the people he called friends. He was finally starting to believe their words. They didn't care what he looked like, only what he did and who he was inside.

He knew he had a lot to make up for. He couldn't change his past or the things he'd done, but he vowed to be a new man going forward. The mad Phantom was dead, never to rear his ugly head again.

"Good morning, Miss Vanucci." He placed a large bouquet of flowers on her desk before continuing through to his private office. "Thank you for keeping the place running while I was incapacitated."

"You're welcome, Mr. Dantes." She rose, grabbed her notepad and a pencil, and followed him. She stood by the door waiting while he walked around the space.

He picked up messages on his desk and rifled through them quickly. Most went into the trash, but some were set aside to be dealt with later. He stepped to the drafting table, glanced at the drawings and turned away. Then he stopped and turned back, picking up a few of the drawings and looking at them closely. "Miss Vanucci, what are these?" He gestured to the unfamiliar pages.

"Sir?" She joined him at the drafting table and suddenly flushed. "I'm sorry, sir." She tried to pull the papers away but he held fast to them. "Those…those are mine. I was just being silly after hours."

"Hmmm." He settled onto the high chair at the table, looking closely at the drawings. "In your spare time?" He looked at her.

"Yes, sir. I thought since you were paying me for full days but only having me work for half-days, I'd just wait around a bit longer. In case a late call came in."

"So you were just sketching to pass the time?"

She looked down at her shoes. "Yes, sir."

"Very well." He set the drawings aside once more, returned to his desk, and started going through a large ledger book. "Miss Vanucci, where are the jobbing cost estimates that came in during the last three weeks?"

"They're already entered in the book, sir. The material requests, estimated costs, and actual costs are all there."

"Oh, yes, I see now." He spent a few more minutes reading and then closed the book, looking up at her. "And who entered all the information and worked out the costs?"

"I did that, sir." She tightened her grip on the notepad. "Is something wrong, sir?"

He looked at her, then gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Sit down, Miss Vanucci. I think you and I need to have a talk."

She nodded, slipping into the chair. Taking a deep breath, she looked up, meeting his eyes and saying nothing. She knew she'd overstepped her boundaries as his secretary.

"What am I going to do with you, Miss Vanucci?" He spoke softly, steepling his fingers and looking over them at her. "You're an excellent secretary, but I cannot allow this," he gestured to her drawings and the ledger book, "to continue." He saw her nod slightly, never breaking eye contact. "In light of what I see here, you cannot remain at this firm as secretary."

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." She stood, placing her notepad and pencil down on his desk and moving toward the door.

"I did not say you were dismissed, Miss Vanucci." He looked at her and nodded toward the chair. "Sit down." He waited until she returned before continuing. "As I was saying, I cannot allow you to continue as my secretary. I will give you two weeks to find a suitable replacement for your position and then I wish to you to begin work as my assistant."

"Assistant?" She was too shocked to add 'sir.'

"Assistant. Apprentice. Student. Call it whatever you wish." He picked up her drawings and grinned. "These show great promise. You have talent, and I'd like to see how far you can go with it."

"But..but I have no proper training, no education in architecture."

He smiled, leaning forward over the desk. "Can you keep a secret?" He waited for her to nod. "Neither have I. I learned by studying structures, reading everything I could find about architecture, and working on buildings with my bare hands. Now, I'm not expecting you to lay bricks, but I'm offering the opportunity to work alongside me and learn."

"But I'm a woman."

He looked at her with an appraising eye. She was dressed in her usual relatively shapeless garments. "Yes, despite your best efforts to hide it, I have noticed that you are a woman. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, sir."

She was stunned at the offer and Erik found himself enjoying her reaction. It felt good to help her. "I should warn you; I'm a hard taskmaster and I tend to have a temper."

"Temper, sir?" The twinkle was back in her eyes. "I hadn't noticed, sir."

"I also don't appreciate sarcasm." He did his best to keep a straight face, watching her reaction. "Well, I think we've both dawdled long enough, Miss Vanucci. Are you or are you not interested in the job offer?"

"I am. Thank you very much, sir."

Her eyes started to well and he was afraid she was going to start to cry. "We can work out the salary details later; of course you will receive a raise. And don't worry about the hours. We will find a way for you to fulfill your duties here and make sure the children are properly looked after." Standing abruptly, he held out his hand. "I look forward to working with you, Miss Vanucci."

A change seemed to come over her as she stood. The spinsterish, slightly hunched secretary stood tall and gave him a brilliant smile. She shook his hand with as firm a grasp as his. "I look forward to learning from and working with you Mr. Dantes."

"Very good," he said, sitting back down. "As I said earlier, you have two weeks in which to find a replacement secretary for me. After that, either you'll begin your new position or you'll remain my secretary until you either quit or I release you. Is that understood?"

"It is, sir." She picked up her notepad and pencil, poised for instructions. "Are you looking for any specific qualifications for your secretary?"

"He or she, must be competent. You know the needs of the business. I leave the decision in your capable hands." He turned his attention back to his desk, silently dismissing her.