A/N: I had this done yesterday, but I wasn't able to post it. I've started work on the next chapter, but I just ask for patience since I'm beginning bar review courses. I'm going to try to write in the evenings though. Please read and review!They will be a nice change of reading from bar exam materials.

Michel Dupoix looked at the note before him with great trepidation. Although it was not sealed in the usual way, at this point he could recognize the sender by the script on the letter. It would seem that the Opera Ghost had more demands of him. He was certain the masked man must have had some hand in the death of Adrienne Leveau, no matter what that physician had said. He was not nearly as foolish as that girl had been. He would keep his mouth shut, he had his family and his business to protect.

What could the man want now? An increase in pay, perhaps? He hoped not. The production of Giselle was costing a small fortune in new sets and costumes. Thank God the ballet was still immensely popular. Advance ticket sales had been excellent, but if the production was savaged by the critics, people would not attend the remaining performances, leaving the theater in debt. He had always prided himself in never running the Metropolitan without making a profit for its patrons. This production was turning into quite the professional test for him. And now he had to fret over the homicidal maniac who made this place his home!

He drew the letter out of the envelope and laid it out on his desk, not opening it just yet. Dupoix stared at it, almost as if he concentrated hard enough it would disappear. Wishing would not make it so, and he unfolded the note, closing his eyes for a moment before he read it.

Dear Monsieur Dupoix,

This note is simply a quick reminder that my usual salary will be due soon, and that I expect the payment to be on schedule. However, you will not present the money to Mademoiselle Burnside. Instead, leave the money in a satchel in your office. I will retrieve it at my convenience.

I do have a personal request of you, my dear manager, and I sincerely hope you will be able to accommodate me. I would like to reserve the best box available for the opening performance of Giselle. You may deduct the cost of the box from my salary. Enclose the tickets with the money. I expect to be able to have both before the week is out.

I am, your obedient servant,

O.G.

Dupoix put the letter back on the desk. He had guessed that the money he was paying as extortion would be a topic of conversation in the note. He even had to grudgingly admit, it made sense that he would prefer to collect the money himself than have it pass through the hands of another. It would seem the Phantom now preferred to leave Gianna out of his schemes. The tickets to the opening gala would be slightly more difficult to manage, however.

As the manager, he was entitled to the best box in the theater. Occasionally he gave up the box for dignitaries, but he always attended the opening performances. His wife was so excited about the ballet that he had promised her they would attend the performance together. The opposite box with the same view as his was already spoken for. Dupoix had set the tickets for that box aside for the Viscomte de Chagny and his wife. Looking at the letter again, he noticed that the request was for the "best available box". The mysterious ghost would simply have to make due with what was still available.

He made a quick trip to the box office, and learned that by coincidence the box next to the de Chagny's was available. The family that regularly sat there was currently away on holiday and had left instructions that the seats could be sold to anyone who could afford them. Dupoix was a bit astonished that the Phantom was actually willing to pay for a seat to the ballet, but he was not about to question the outrageous whims of a man who had dropped a chandelier into a crowded opera house. He would, however, enclose a note of his own, explaining why this was the best available seat. Dupoix had learned over the years the importance of the ability to make excuses, particularly when one was dealing with the possibility of a dissatisfied customer.

He would contact the bankers in the morning about the salary.

Erik found himself standing outside the small jewelry shop, nearly paralyzed with anxiety. He knew next to nothing about what sort ring he should procure for Gia. The only engagement ring he had any familiarity with lay in the drawer of his desk, and he was not about to be so crass as to get Gia a ring that looked like that. The ring should be unique and beautiful, a testament to his love for her. But it would be difficult to surpass the ring Raoul had given Christine. For all Erik had scoffed at the boy viscomte, he would allow the boy had selected a beautiful piece of jewelry to give to his beloved. The ring had been entirely composed of diamonds; one large oval cut one at the center, surrounded by a myriad of round cut stones.

He must look incredibly foolish loitering in front of the shop window. Putting his silly fears behind him, he pushed open the door which jangled pleasantly at his entrance. Standing behind the counter was a pretty young woman who could not have been more than twenty. She gave him a wide smile, and immediately inquired if he needed any assistance.

"I am looking to purchase a ring for a lady," was his response. He still found it strange speaking with people in public. He was always trying to determine if they were in someway making judgments of him based on his appearance, which made it impossible for him to relax. The girl guided him over to case filled with rings of varying stones all with one thing in common, the settings were quite large, and dare he say, gaudy. They looked like something a gentleman might present to a mistress, not something one gives to an expectant bride.

The shopgirl looked at the scowl on the gentleman's face, and she quickly realized she had made a mistake. "I apologize Monsieur, but you did not say what sort of lady you were looking to purchase a ring for. Is the ring for your wife?"

"The lady has consented to marry me, but I did not have a ring to give her at the time, and I am looking to remedy the situation," he said somewhat exasperated. He would never understand how women could get such perverse pleasure from shopping. Although he was most careful in his manner of dress, he had never particularly enjoyed his visits to the tailor. He simply told the bespectacled man what he wanted and it was produced for him.

"Well then, I think you will find the rings in this case a bit more to your liking," she said, guiding him to another case. Once again, the rings were of different stones, but these were much more tasteful. The gems appeared to be of higher quality even though they were smaller in size. But how the hell was he supposed to choose from amongst all of them? Maybe he should just have Gia pick something for herself.

Marie could see frustration on the poor man's face. He obviously had no experience buying jewelry, which seemed odd given the face he looked to be wealthy and rather handsome. Surely this green-eyed stranger had a mistress at some point. "If you tell me a bit about the lady, mayhap I can help you with your selection. An engagement ring should reflect the woman that will wear it."

"She has the kindest, most understanding heart of any woman I have ever known. When I am with her I am completely at peace with myself. I do not know what I have done to possibly deserve her," he said passionately to the girl who was a complete unknown to him. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then reached inside the case and drew out a single ring.

It was exquisite in its simplicity. The band was plain and silver in color, with a single round cut diamond at the center. The stone seemed to burn with an inner fire, and the facets cast tiny rainbows across the counter. It was not flashy, but still elegant and beautiful, exactly like Gia. He told the girl it was perfect and he did his best not flinch when she told him the price.

"Monsieur, I know its rather expensive, but it truly a ring to last a lifetime. The setting is platinum and will wear much better than gold. And I think the color sets off the stone much better. It allows for the purity of the stone to speak for itself," she said, not even having to draw on her considerable sales skills as she described the attributes of the ring.

"It is your favorite ring in this place, then," said Erik intuitively. She shyly nodded, slightly embarrassed that the gentleman saw through her so quickly. "I shall take it. Only the best will do."

"Your lady is most fortunate to have found such an excellent gentleman of wealth and taste willing to marry her," she said, her tone light as she boxed up the ring. She placed the ring on the counter and Erik carefully counted out the notes to pay for the ring. As he slid them toward the girl, her fingers deliberately brushed against his and their eyes made contact for a long moment. Her dark eyes were hot upon his. What was this girl playing at?

With his other hand he pocketed the ring, and swept out the door, his cape swinging behind him. He could never recall a woman reacting to him like that so strongly. He had seduced Christine over time with his voice, and even Gia had not liked him at first. But that slip of a girl back in the shop had wanted him even as he stood there buying a ring for another woman. He was aware he cut a fine figure in his expensive wardrobe but he had always assumed the mask branded him as one of the untouchables of society. On the trip back to the opera house he began to believe that perhaps Gia had not been wrong when she told him there was no need for him to live underground as he did.

Furthermore, the idea of depriving Gia of sunlight for most of her natural life seemed unnecessarily cruel. He had lived two years among people and it had not been easy for him. There had been a couple of occasions he left his hotel rooms unused because he preferred to find a hovel to sleep in. They had been familiar, whereas the sumptuous bedrooms with the most modern luxuries available had felt foreign to him. He did not feel as though he deserved them.

His circumstances were not the same any longer. She had freely agreed to follow wherever life took them. He snorted derisively, recalling the words of that damned song that Christine and the boy had sung as they initially pledged their love. He could not ask Gia to make such a sacrifice for him. Together, they might make a new life for themselves. He only trusted her to guide him through the challenges of everyday living that he had never learned. But for that to happen, it would likely mean abandoning Paris. It would mean Gia leaving her comfort zone and the place that had been her home for more than two decades. Erik was not certain he could ask that of her.

He entered the theater not long after the rehearsal had gotten underway. Unfortunately, Madame Giry was focusing on the first act, which meant that Gia was nowhere to be seen. She might be in the wings somewhere, or there was the possibility she was having a costume fitting. He was quite interested in seeing what her costume looked like and what she looked like in it. He could always liberate it from the seamstress's workshop so that Gia could model it for him, he thought with a grin. With that thought he settled back into the velvet covered seat and watched the sight before him.

Meg was dancing the role of the naïve coquette quite admirably, toying with the affections of her suitors. Jean Paul and Georges were doing their best to look completely enthralled with her and succeeding to various degrees. All too often Jean Paul looked more constipated than in love, but Georges seemed to have perfected the goggle eyed stare of a man hopelessly snared in the net of a woman. Erik hoped he did not look like that. But other than that, the pas de trois was quite flawless. Antoinette had quite out done herself with the choreography, and the dancers had risen to the occasion. For the rest of the rehearsal he allowed himself to be transported to the tiny Silesian town in the ballet. And when Meg's Giselle became unhinged when she discovered her would be lover had deceived her and thrust herself onto his sword, he could feel hot tears staining his left cheek.

There was a smattering of applause from the dancers waiting in the wings, and even Madame Giry appeared to be pleased, giving a rare nod to Meg and the two gentlemen. They took their bows, and the rehearsal was concluded for the day for the dancers. Erik heard Reyer inform the orchestra they were staying to work on some areas he was displeased with. But he did not want to linger, as he wanted to meet Gia in her room.

Gia actually reached her chamber before he did. Madame Giry had spent nearly the entire day on the first act, leaving Gia little to do except observe. She was filled with energy, and raced back to her room. She had become so used to finding him waiting in her chair for her that when she found he was not there, she sat down on her bed heavily like a petulant child, crossing her arms across her chest. It was as she reached down to undo the ribbons of her toe shoes that she heard him coming through the wardrobe.

He immediately went to the bed and gave her a kiss on the cheek and inquired how her day had been. "Not particularly interesting, really. I didn't do much dancing outside of warm ups, although I did practice a bit on my own backstage since I hate standing idle too long. And what were you up this afternoon? I must thank you for speaking to Madame Giry this afternoon. She seems to be in much better spirits now. I'm sure the entire company would thank you for your intervention. Perhaps now Meg will not be clamoring to use my room in the evenings."

He sat down on the bed next to her, the ring feeling suddenly like a heavy weight. He was sot sure how he should present it to her. She had already consented to marrying him, and while tradition demanded he get down on one knee, it was all rather foolish to him. But he knew for all of Gia's practicality, she clung to some of her childhood fantasies, and he felt uneasy that he might ruin the moment. "Let's see, I spent much of the day trying to get our wedding arranged. I even spoke to that busybody priest Lessard. The man seemed rather surprised that we would be having a private ceremony. Really my dear, I was not aware the man was not in full command of his senses."

"Oh Erik, he's just a sentimental old man! I've known him my entire life. You can't know how much it means to me that he will marry us. Did you both set a date?" she asked finally.

"I was thinking Wednesday evening once all the performances of the ballet have been completed."

"So long? I was hoping we could be married sooner!" she mock pouted.

"Darling, you are going to be quite busy for the next two weeks, and I do not want an exhausted bride on my hands on my wedding night. I fully intend to savor that first evening with you. I've been thinking about all the ways I want to make love to you, and I think it will be a very special night for both of us," he whispered into her ear, enjoying how his words made her squirm pleasurably in his arms.

"I suppose you are right, Erik," she sighed, snuggling close to him, simply enjoying the firmness of his chest at her back.

"There is one thing we must discuss though."

"What?"

"There is the matter of my surname, or rather my lack of one. It was not something my mother every deigned to share with me. The priest suggested we choose something together. So my darling, out of all the names in the world, which do you like best? I was thinking, however, I might take your name. Wouldn't that be dreadfully modern of me?" he said chuckling against her neck.

"Burnside? You would become Erik Burnside?" her voice incredulous he would propose such a thing. Men did not take a woman's surname. It was simply unheard of unless there was some sort of title involved. "Erik, I would rather leave my name behind. It is not a name I have any sort of attachment to. I have never met my father, and I have only kept his name because it was so important to my mother. I think Father Lessard is correct, it should be a new name. And since you have never had a last name, I think you should be the one to choose one."

He moved to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss. "I don't want to know what it is either. It can be a surprise for our wedding day," she said as she gave him one of her dazzling smiles. Erik was not one to disappoint his bride to be, so he kissed her back to seal the bargain between them. What in God's name was he going to pick though?

The room became strangely silent, and one of his hands slipped into the inner pocket of his tailcoat. He felt the leather box slide between his fingers, and he took the ring out. Because of their proximity, Gia could feel him fumbling for something in his coat, and she moved to the side to give him wider access. Looking over her left shoulder, she thought she caught a glimpse of something, but it vanished so quickly, she assumed her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Erik saw the puzzlement on her face, and in that moment he quickly thought of a way to give her the ring. He waved his large leather clad hands in front of her eyes, showing her there was nothing in them. He then curled them into two fists, and bade her choose one. She picked the left first, and then the right, but still there was nothing. Then he reached behind her left ear, and using his great skill at legerdemain, he produced the ring, and held it before her eyes. He expected her to be delighted, but she burst into tears at the sight of the ring, leaving him at something for a loss as to what he should do.

"Is there something wrong with it? I knew I should have had you just pick something out yourself! I'm not going back to that place alone again, that woman---"

But he found himself cut off, by Gia taking her hand and wrapping it around his as she opened her eyes so he could see she was happy rather than sad. She smiled and said, "You great fool, it's perfect! Now put it on me!" she practically squealed.

He slipped the band on the fourth finger on her left hand, which she had extended toward him. The ring looked even better on her finger than it had on the case in the shop. It sparkled as though it knew it found its rightful owner. Gia gently removed his mask so she could press her left hand against the right side of his face so he could feel the cool metal that would bind them together. He turned his face into her palm, and placed a hot kiss there.

They never did make it back to his lair that evening.