Yes, another long wait till the next update. Sorry for those of you who have been waiting. I really wanted to make this chapter good. I just started reading "Phantom" by Susan Kay and I've been double checking on all of the things I've done and am planning to do with our beloved Opera Ghost. I do hope I remain very faithful to the character without making him too OOC. I'm really not trying to, but this is a kind of "what if" situation. Oh well, one can only attempt to do their best. Thanks for your support! Luv ya! Uh . . . you know what I mean. While I can't guarantee that I'll update more quickly, I will try. Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

To da fic!

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The little café was only two blocks away from the opera, which was good news for Kurt. As soon as the group reached its destination, Kurt ran up to the counter and ordered a chocolate muffin with chocolate chips along with a large cup of Pepsi.

"Your friend has quite an appetite," noted Erik, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, that's Kurt for ya," replied Rogue. "Although he usually is inclined to chili-cheese burgers rather than breakfast food. But if he's hungry enough, he'll eat anything."

"And we mean anything," emphasized Kitty. "Once we had a fire drill at our school just before lunch, and it lasted for an hour. Kurt was so desperate he ate half of his loose-leaf paper supply. So he has to be satisfied at all times."

"I suppose he has a high metabolism," concluded Erik. "He must be very active."

"Well, yeah," said Kitty, "considering all the tele-"

Rogue snapped a sharp glance at her. Kitty realized her near slip-up in the nick of time, but she was too scared to continue. When she didn't, Erik looked at her. "All the what?"

Kitty hesitated for a moment, then nervously replied, "All the tele . . . phone calls he makes to his girlfriend Amanda. They talk for hours. Yak-yak-yak-yak-yak."

Kitty giggled nervously while Rogue rolled her eyes without Erik noticing. Nice recovery.

Erik raised his eyebrows again, then seemed to accept the answer and moved on. "Where would you like to sit?"

"Uh, how 'bout over there, at that big window facing the street? It's fun watching the people pass by." Kitty was still trying to make up for her mistake, more to Rogue than to Erik. She looked over at her Goth friend, who at this point had just one eyebrow raised in a fashion that the valley girl also received from Logan whenever she did anything "odd," like ask him for fashion tips. Kitty could only give her a helpless shrug.

"If that is your wish, I suppose it will do." The girls both noticed the reluctance in the musician's voice. While he was willing to accommodate, Erik didn't seem too eager to sit in the direct view of the outside.

"Well, is there somewhere else you would prefer to sit, Mr. Fenton?" offered Rogue.

He turned to her. "To be honest, I am more in favor of sitting near the back. I'm more private than most people care for."

"That's alright," she replied. "We can sit near the back if you wish." She herself preferred that position over the one next to the window. In her mind there was really nothing odd about that.

Kitty had a different opinion. She would never in a million years criticize someone who had been so polite to them, even taking them to a café. Still, she cast a longing glance toward the windows. Unlike the two more private characters beside her, she did prefer being in the open and around many people. At the moment, however, it was two against one.

Suddenly, Kurt came up. He had half of his muffin stuffed into his mouth. "Hey guys! Where are we sitting?"

"Well . . . I did suggest sitting near the front, but Rogue and Mr. Fenton prefer sitting in the back."

Kurt paused a moment, considering the situation. "Well, I wouldn't mind sitting in the front, either. It's a beautiful day outside and –"

"But Mr. Fenton might feel uncomfortable," Kitty whispered. She felt very awkward at that moment, talking about a man who was standing right in front of her.

Finally, Erik sighed. "It really is quite alright to sit by the window. I don't mind."

Almost abruptly, Rogue spoke up. "Wait. Why don't Erik and I sit in the back while you guys sit by the windows? We'll still be able to see each other easily and everyone feels comfortable."

The others thought about this for a moment. Then Erik smiled. "That sounds like a promising resolution. What about you two?"

"Sounds good to me," replied Kurt.

Kitty took an extra moment to consider, then she finally agreed. "Well, okay. If everyone's cool with that, then that's the plan. We'll just let each other know when we're ready to leave. That good?"

Kurt and Rogue nodded. Erik seemed to wince slightly, but he gave a consenting nod as well. So Kurt and Kitty ran over to the available table next to the third window from the door, while Rogue and Erik took a table in the far corner of the café, where it was the darkest. It felt refreshingly cool after the humidity of the outside. Not that Rogue really minded it so much, but it was a relief all the same.

She looked at Erik as they sat down. "What's the matter?"

"Beg pardon?" he answered, a bit taken by surprise.

"You had that pained look on your face after Kitty spoke. What was wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just that . . . the thing is, I study languages, and grammar is a sensitive subject for me at times. It seems that the youth of America is not too keen on its grammar skills. I know it seems very silly, but it's a pet peeve that cannot be eradicated I'm afraid."

Rogue gave quiet laugh. "Trust me, you can get that way just from being around Kitty, even if you never cared about grammar before. She can really mutilate it. Sometimes it's kind of funny, but mostly it gets on my nerves."

Erik nodded. "Well, I am glad we have a chance to be alone. After all, you did promise me."

"Yeah, I know. So, what is it you want to know?"

Rogue allowed her left elbow to rest on the tabletop while she placed the hand of the same arm under her jaw, allowing her to stare at her companion without being tempted to turn away or become distracted. Erik rested his large hands on the table, folding them in manner very similar to that of the Professor. Not in the steeple fashion that the Professor also did when he was thinking very thoroughly about something, but the simple card-holding position that he usually used when he was relaxed or prepared to speak with someone in a calm, open-minded (yet analytical) manner. She could predict just by the position of this man's hands the style of conversation he was planning to approach her with.

"For the past three years, I have been searching the globe trying to find where I belong, what I must do. For the greater part of my life, I obtained a great deal of knowledge about the world, and yet I believed I could do nothing for it. For my own personal reasons, I felt I could not serve something that I did not . . . feel would appreciate whatever I did, whether I lived or died. But something happened, something that forced me to adjust to a new look on life. The world changed for me, as in no way that I have ever experienced it before. I realized that I needed to expand out, that staying in my current situation was doom for me. I felt a need to start over, in the absurd hope that maybe fate would be kinder than it had been in my former life."

He paused, allowing Rogue to take this in and answer him when she believed it was appropriate. "Well, has it?"

He sighed. "I'm afraid not by much. For you see, I realized what I lacked in my former life I also lacked in this life. Do you know what that is?"

Rogue could only shake her head like a young child, having no true understanding of what the older man was saying.

"People to whom I could relate. People who were more like . . . me. "

Rogue gave him a puzzled look. "Really? Why?"

He chuckled. "At your age I might have thought the same, were I speaking to myself. Oh, the things I could tell my younger self, the warnings and bits of advice, if it were only possible. Anyway, once you have endured what I have, companionship would probably be the only thing you would wish for. Well, perhaps one or two things, but they are trivial at this time. I have lived a very lonely life, despite my world-winning adventures. After three years I have finally come here, still searching."

"Why here? What makes you think what you are looking for is here?"

"Oh, many things. The culture, the accumulating knowledge and discovery in science and technology – did you know that I am a scientist? Well, not in the most conventional manner, but I have much knowledge of the subject, mostly chemistry, architecture and engineering."

Rogue stared at him open-mouthed. She was now sitting up, at full attention. After a moment she collected herself and spoke. "You are just full of surprises. One moment you're a musician, next you're some kind of philosopher, and now you're a scientist? What are you exactly? Why a musician when you could be so many other things?"

Erik leaned back in his seat, seeming more spent by the moment. Strangely his face did not seem any paler, although it was on the pale side by nature; but he did appear very tired, almost like one who lost more than one night's worth of sleep. Perhaps his spirit was exhausted as well, for from what he had already related to her, he had done a lot of traveling in his life and was hoping for some light at the end of the tunnel, but was doubtful he would find it. She already began to feel a hint of pity for him, and it was only the beginning.

"My other talents serve only as my hobbies, little tasks to take up my time in this life. Music alone truly touches me in a way that it is intrinsic to my soul, my essence. It is my only form of expression and relief from the dark, heavy feelings that often possess me. I do not suppose you would have ever guessed that about me."

"Perhaps I would, if you would just let me get to know you." The tension in Rogue's voice gave away her impatience. The feeling did not arise from sitting through Erik's rant; quite the contrary, she found it quite interesting. What annoyed her was that whenever he mentioned something she had not known about him, he would give her this look like she should have known that, and yet he seemed to enjoy the fact that she did not know these things about him. It made it difficult for her to figure out if he wanted her to get to know him better, or not.

Erik leaned forward again. He studied her features for a moment. Her cheeks had flushed momentarily from her shortening temper, her eyes becoming more penetrating. He reacted to this with a slight grin. Not the usual, mischievous or sardonic grin that Rogue had begun getting used to, but a half guilty, half sad smile that seemed to display his regret for unintentionally egging Rogue on. "My apologies. Such reflections often get me carried away. I am not used to society and am not trained in the etiquette of conversation."

"That really isn't the problem. I mean, I don't do well with other people either. It's just that . . . it just bugs me when men think they have to be so aloof around people, especially around women. What is that with you guys?"

Erik was once more taken by surprised. Even more this time. "Do you categorize all men in such a way?"

"Apparently all the men that I know. Except Kurt, but he's a different story."

He furrowed his brow, taking a moment to think. His eyes seemed so deep and black, like two bottomless holes going on forever, deep into his shadowed soul. The darker part of his essence seemed to discharge out of his body, like a vapor, surrounding him. Something Rogue had said had placed him in a darker mood.

"I would think someone with a disposition such as yours would be more understanding."

Rogue grew slightly anxious, the dark cloud surrounding him becoming more evident. "Look, I didn't mean that . . . it's just that . . . it just seems to be a natural thing in men to distance themselves from others. If you underwent some traumatic experience in your life, that's different. But if it's just to avoid expressing your feelings –"

"My life was a traumatic experience. Every minute of it!" His voice had grown angrier. He seemed ready to break out in a fit of rage. His fists had tensed, his lips were tightly drawn back. Yet his face did not have the usual lines and crinkles that occurred when one became as enraged as he. She mistook this as a lacking capacity of full expression in his face. She would have expected him, by the tone of his voice, to display more of his rage facially as well as verbally. The thought, however, did not stay long in her mind. She grew more worried about his actions to follow and what had caused them.

What is the matter with him?

A tense moment passed, him with his eyes that could burn a hole in the table, and Rogue staring back with her cool emerald eyes, displaying concern for him as well as confusion. As he stared at the cold yet anxious gems, his fire seemed to be quelled. He began to relax, allowing himself to fall back into his seat. While the dark cloud about him did not completely recede, it was no longer menacing. He seemed ashamed and saddened, refusing to let his eyes meet hers.

"Please, forgive me. I . . . I do not know what came over me. I know you did not mean any harm. Yet, sometimes . . . oh, it is not worth explaining."

The last bit cut into the girl like a knife. Not worth explaining! What had they just been talking about a minute ago?

"That's bull! Of course it's worth explaining!"

She hadn't meant to be so loud, though. Several people in the café had heard her comment and were staring at her. She immediately noticed the crowd and sank back into her chair a bit.

The comment had been enough to make Erik look at her again. He too seemed greatly surprised, but his reaction took a different turn. He laughed. A genuinely amused laugh. The rest of the café patrons gave confused and questionable looks to one another, then returned to their own conversations.

Rogue could feel her cheeks burning. Again. How was it that every time she was in Erik's company, she always ended up embarrassing herself?

She finally looked at Erik, who returned her look with one of sympathy as well as amusement.

"Believe me, it is you who is more full of surprises than I."

Rogue looked into her lap. "Sometimes I speak before I think. I know it's a bad habit, but –"

"Yes, a bad habit, but a comforting one at that. I often admire the unfortunate soul who cannot help but speak their mind."

"Well, I admit that speaking one's mind isn't the same as speaking one's feelings." She sighed. "I guess I should be more understanding. But it's not as if every guy you meet has some life-altering issues."

"True," admitted Erik, "and perhaps I suffer from that as well. Do you indeed have difficulty expressing yourself to others?"

Rogue fiddled with the index finger of one of her gloves, still feeling a little awkward. "If they knew everything about me, they wouldn't like me. I don't want to have to cry on someone's shoulder whenever I have a problem. I can deal with it."

He let a moment pass after her comment, then replied, "I guess that answers my question."

"Well, it's true. Nobody wants to be a crying towel. Everyone's got their own problems. Imagine trying to take on other people's problems while you're trying to deal with your own at the same time. How would you do it? I mean, if someone had a problem and wanted to talk to you about it a little, sure. But if they went up to you constantly, always spilling their troubles on you, well . . ."

Erik shifted in his seat a little, seemingly trying to get into a more comfortable position. Silence once more reigned. After a few minutes had passed, Erik finally spoke up again. "I know this is a bit of an odd subject, but . . . have you . . . ever had . . . an attraction for someone?"

He was answered by the one-eyebrow raise, which made him smile slightly. "I told you that it was an odd subject."

She shrugged. "Nobody ever asked me before. If I answer you, will you promise not to repeat it to anyone else?"

"Of course," he said with the up most sincerity.

"Okay, well . . . yes, I have."

"So, you had a boyfriend?"

She paused a moment. "Well . . . no."

A look of realization came over his face. It was rather strange, for it did possess the pity she was expecting. And yet it also possessed some sort of . . . reverence, for lack of a better word.

"Oh, I'm very sorry. So, it was . . ."

Rogue nodded. "Unrequited love. Although whether it was real love I cannot say. I mean, I still like him. A lot. I really care for him, like a good friend. But I still feel . . . empty, knowing that we'll never be together."

Erik leaned forward, seeming to grow more concerned. "Why?"

"Well, he already has a girl. A great girl, in his mind." The sarcasm in her voice was becoming more evident. "She's the prettiest and most talented girl in the school, and he's known her since he was a kid. The love of his life, really. For someone like me, not that talented or attractive, practically untouchable, how can I compete with that? Sometimes I feel so . . . worthless."

Her companion had a very pained look on his face. She wondered if he could actually feel the pain she felt just by thinking about it. It was a horrid, gut-wrenching feeling whenever she thought about it. Not so much that she lost this guy that she had liked so much, but that it was a sign that she wasn't good enough, that she fell short of winning a man's heart over another girl. But hey, who could compete with Jean Grey? Whatever man she picked, Rogue knew she could never win over her. That girl could have any guy she wanted. And she wanted Scott.

She hadn't even noticed the tears that had filled her eyes until her vision began to cloud up and they began to sting. She immediately grabbed her napkin and quickly dabbed them.

"Are you okay?" Erik's voice seemed a bit weak.

"Fine, fine. Just a . . . a bit of dust that got in my eyes. I'll be fine."

She hadn't been looking for sympathy. Really. He had asked her, and she answered with honesty. God, she hated it when people thought she was just looking for someone to feel sorry for her. She didn't want anyone to feel sorry for her.

She wanted someone to care about her.

"Don't ever think you're worthless," said Erik more firmly. "Just because a man chooses someone else over you doesn't mean you're worthless. They probably just fit each other better." Then he added with a slight bitterness, "Or they're making a big mistake."

"I know it's wrong, but I like to think in the latter terms." Rogue couldn't help but laugh a little. It was a foolish thought, but it was one of her few forms of comfort.

Erik let out a pained laugh. "Yes. Me too."

Rogue stopped thinking about Scott and Jean and looked at the musician. The thought had never occurred to her before, and yet now, it seemed so obvious.

"You too? You mean . . ."

"I have had my own problems with love. But such sorrows can be saved for another time."

Rogue stared at him again. He still looked like he was in pain. His brow was still furrowed, his fists a bit tensed, and she almost thought she saw a tear in one of his eyes. The idea of him being an any situation similar to hers was almost mind boggling. "I . . . I never thought . . ."

"Actually, it's a rather common thing. Do not think yourself so alone, Miss Darkholme." For the first time, he reached out and touched the tips of her fingers. She froze, staring at the connected fingertips. It was that same, electric feeling she had felt whenever they touched, even the slightest contact. Like two wires connected to the same battery, she could feel the electricity of mutual understanding flowing through. The feeling was almost surreal or supernatural. She finally permitted herself to smile, just a little, to show her gratitude.

Then she gently pulled away, for Kitty was approaching their table.

"Hey, Kurt and I have finished our snack, and we were wondering if you'd like to join us for a walk around town."

Rogue actually liked the idea of a walk. She looked over at her Erik who seemed to agree with her by the glint in his eyes. Despite his inward eagerness, he remained composed. "That's sounds good to me. What do you say, Miss Darkholme?"

Rogue turned to Kitty and nodded. "We'll be ready in a minute."

Kitty's ear-to-ear smile lit up their little dark corner for an instant, then she quickly took off to the other side of the café to tell Kurt the good news.

Rogue had only realized at that moment that neither of them had ordered anything, but in the end it did not matter, since neither of them were hungry anyway. They both stood up, pushed in their chairs and began to walk to the door. Then, suddenly, Rogue stepped in front of Erik.

"Wait. One more thing."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Yes?"

"We need to make a deal about something."

"Alright. What is it?"

"If I agree to call you Erik, will you agree to call me Rogue? It's just so odd when one of us is calling us by our formal name while the other is calling us by our first name. Either we should be on a last name basis or a first name basis. Especially if I can call you Erik."

Another sly smile came from the strange musician, and he answered. "Very well. First name basis it is."

Rogue nodded in accord, then quickly followed after Kitty and Kurt as they walked out of the café.

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Yay. Whoopee. Another chapter done. Whew. Well, hope to see ya again soon!