A/N - I am running out of inspiration, at least as to what will happen after this chapter. Indeed, the writing of this chapter might prove utterly boring and lacking talent, so please forgive me until my muse returns.

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Chapter 6: A proposition

The tavern was very busy that night, as it was on most nights. The regular drunks were already well on their way to passing out, and those who simply popped in from time to time, or were passing through, seemed to be rowdier than usual. Madeline sighed as she quickly served a group of aggressive drunks another round of their strongest whiskey, and bit back a sharp retort when one of them roughly smacked her on the backside.

"Oh, Piss off!" She finally said to one of their smart and disgusting questions. Turning, she walked back to the bar, slamming empty mugs on the countertop. Her boss - the self-nicknamed Casanova - watched her with mild amusement.

"Well at least we won't be bored tonight." He pointed out. She rolled her eyes, and turned to look about the room. The door to the tavern swung open again, and she got ready to service yet another annoying drunkard. Yet the man that stepped in was younger than most of the brutes there, and was dressed quite finely. His long auburn hair was pulled back into a tail, and he carried a hat under his arm as amber eyes searched through the tavern.

Madeline could scarcely believe it. It was the gentleman who this past week had been so good to her daughters and herself. The man had not told her he was going to come calling after her at her work. She'd assumed he'd bring the medicine for her sons upset stomach back to the filthy apartment where her little girls sat with their brother and the landlady. It was very unexpected for him to find her eyes across the room, and then head directly towards her. There was such a tense air of power gathered about him. It certainly seemed to intimidate the aggressive drunks he past into becoming quiet a brief moment.

"Good evening, Madame." He greeted formally, half bowing to her. "Would it be possible to speak with you outside? Where it is quieter. This place and these people make me feel quite sick, having to be near them."

Oh, so there were people that he detested, she thought bemusedly, following him through the crowd to step out into the quiet street. She hadn't imagined that he could find anything appalling, even though he obviously found children and women far more appealing company than that of any man.

"Is Gerard all right?" She asked a bit nervously, wondering now if perhaps he'd come to talk about her son. Erik looked at her quickly, then smiled.

"No, Madam. He's fine." He promised. "The drink I gave him helped him to feel a great deal better. I'm here for quite another reason. Well . . . considering that both have to do with the well being of your family, perhaps it isn't really so different at all."

Madeline stared at him for a long moment. She didn't understand. When this became apparent, he continued as though there had been no pause at all.

"In only a few days, Madam, I've grown so fond of your little ones. We both know that they deserve better than what you're capable of giving them, under these unfortunate circumstances."

"What?" She was reluctant to admit it, but of course he was right. She couldn't possible afford to keep raising three growing children with the salary she earned. "What do you have in mind, Monsieur?"

"I have a proposition." He said gently. "Let me give you and your family a better chance than what you have right now. Let me give your family a home in a better neighborhood. Let me find you a better paying job that is more worthy of you than this."

Shock overwhelmed her. Who on earth was this man? Really? No one ever gave such things freely. Something was always asked for in return. Just the same, he didn't look like the type of man who would demand vulgar payment for his kindnesses. He had done so much for her and her daughters and son already, and he wanted to do more? At such a young age, she found it rather odd he would have enough money to do the things he proposed.

"What would I have to do, Monsieur?" She asked a little bit nervously. He was a handsome man, she began to think to herself. A bit younger than she was, but still handsome. And he really did seem fond of her children. If he asked her for anything, she would give it gladly, just for the chance for her children to have a better life. Yet she still dreaded the prospect that there might truly be a price.

For a long minute, Erik watched her stupidly. Then, his eyes widened. He seemed totally repulsed that she would think him capable of demanding anything from her. A hot flush crept up his young looking cheeks. What she thought he was proposing was deplorable!

"My dear woman, I swear to you that I wish for nothing in return!" He reached out, touching her shoulder lightly. "I want to do this for the sake of your children, and you yourself. I love the girls dearly. If anything were to happen to them because of the circumstances in which they live at present, I . . ." He stopped then, calming down.

Madeline nodded quickly, totally in awe of this man. She saw the blush that rose to his cheeks when he realized what she'd thought he might ask of her. Was such a fine young man still a virgin? It seemed impossible to her that some fine young woman hadn't caught him up in her arms already. Not that it was any good fortune to her that he was still single. He might not be too much younger than she - six years at most. Yet that was difference enough for her.

"I'm afraid that my home is not fit enough for such a large family." He began quietly after a long moment. "Would you give me a few days to find you a decent apartment? I'll even arrange for you to have a job in the Opera House. I have no doubt that Marguerite has already told you I've been granted a position there?"

"Oh, she talks about nothing else." Madeline finally laughed, at lease. "I'm actually relieved she has a man that she might be able to admire. Her fathers' death was very hard on her, and since then she has had no strong figure in her life."

Erik smiled softly, nodding in understanding.

"Marguerite was still up when I left little Gerard and the landlady." He said finally. "She forced me to promise to go back tonight. I think she wants to go with me to my home. She always seems so despondent when I leave."

"Oh, I'm sure she just wants you to tuck her into bed." Madeline turned with a laugh. "I have to get back to work now. Good-bye, Monsieur, and thank you so much!" She was giddy as she returned to work in the tavern, her hands shaking just a little bit for several minutes. This, she was certain, had to be a dream. Such luck couldn't possibly have come at a better time!

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"Monsieur Erik, are you going to be my new Papa?"

He was taken aback by the question, as he tucked her into the king- sized bed of the dingy apartment, beside her slumbering sister. Looking down at Marguerite, he lightly touched her dark hair, which was clean and like silk beneath his fingertips. The eagerness in her eyes shown through, and he felt sorry that he could not grant her the answers she wanted.

"No, ma Cherie." He said quietly. "I am not going to be your new Papa. But I would very much like it if you'd let me be *like* a papa to you. Would you let me do that?"

She smiled, nodding happily. Smiling, Erik leaned down to kiss her forehead. She really was a delightful child.

"Would you like me to sing you to sleep?" He offered gently. Again, she nodded, closing her eyes, and snuggling herself into the warm blankets. "All right. What should I sing for you?"

"Can you sing that pretty part of the song you sang at your audition?" Erik almost laughed at the way she'd put that, but managed to keep from smiling too much at her mistakes. There were far more graceful ways of putting that question. Yet she was only a child. She didn't know. "It sounded like a lullaby."

"All right." He whispered. "But you must go to sleep."

She closed her eyes, and snuggled deeper into her pillow. Leaning forward, Erik methodically caressed her hair, seeing how it helped to lull and relax her, as he began to sing. Because he was again singing alone, he switched the words around when necessary, so that he might be able to sing two or three parts without it sounding odd.

"Yes, my sweet beloved. Yes, it's you, I love you. Now death cannot ever frighten you again. Once more I have found you. Once more I have found you. I have come to save you. At last you are in my arms. Yes, my sweet beloved. Yes, my love, I do love you. Despite all endeavors of the evil fiend. Once more I have found you. Once more I have found you. I have come to save you. I have come to save you. My love, come, come to my arms. . ."

At this point, he leaped ahead in the song. He'd changed enough so far, and only wished to switch the gender mentioned in each verse if it was possible. The song was too beautiful to change too much. Marguerite was almost asleep by this point, and it brought bittersweet memories of how he'd sung Christine to sleep once before.

"I remember our garden too. Fragrant with the sweet scent of roses. Where in the dark of gentle night, we felt the joy of love enclose us."

That verse was painfully short. He thought of what he might do to continue lulling her to sleep. She reached over across the blanket then, her arm heavy with sleep, and took his hand in a surprisingly tight grip. Slowly, Erik took in another long, deep breath, deciding he need not continue, but simply repeat himself. which he did gladly - excluding the last lines each time he sang. Yet every time he went over the words, he sang them in a different language. It took four more times to get Marguerite into a deep sleep, and he managed to pry his hand from her grip, and sneak out of the house without awakening her.

Oh, he most definitely wanted to be like a father to her. If she were an orphan, he gladly would have adopted them all immediately. Yet they had a mother who loved them just as dearly. He'd never take children away from their parents. It was one of the many despicable things he simply could never do. He pondered these things as he went back to the Opera House, and finally made his way above into the locked and darkened managers office. All was locked and abandoned until the following day, when he would go back as a performer. Grabbing up a pen, he left a note.

'My dear Managers,

I do hope that this letter finds you well. There is no need to feel panicked. Yet I am afraid I have another thing to ask of you. Do Not bother trying to find me, for you never shall. Yes, I am still Alive, and still paying attention to what you do in my Opera. I'm very pleased with the man and woman you have selected to take Over for Mme Carlotta and Monsieur Piangi. Have no fear of hearing from me about such things again.

I do have one thing to ask of you, and that is regarding a young woman in need of proper employment. I shall send her to your offices within the next several days. Her name is Madeline, and I wish you to give her a proper job that will give her decent salary. That is all I am asking of you, Messieurs. Keep in mind that if you should cast this woman aside. . . Well . . . you know the consequences!

One more thing . . . my salary. I will be in need of it again shortly, so prepare yourselves for the demands that will come. I have decided to be lenient, and reduce my own salary. I think it only fair, considering you will be paying for the salary of Madeline, don't you?

Your obedient Servant, O.G.'