hello everybody. this is a bit o' a longer chapter just so you know. i kinda like it. it's sort of humourous in parts, though it's mostly just filler. however, i think you might enjoy it, despite the utterly 50's sitcom-ish ending. thank so much for all your reviews, i'm excited that i have 50. it's such fantabulous motivation! keep em coming dearies:D R&R!

Rebecca

Chapter 12: Daddy, Ally, Ally, Daddy

"Who are you?" Erik asked, annoyed that Rebecca had brought someone down to the lair.

"Father, this is Alistair, the fellow I told you about. Alistair," she said turning to the young man, "Ally, this is my father, Erik."

Alistair, being the well bred young man he was, immediately extended his hand to the masked man. Erik glanced at it, and hesitated before finally shaking it.

"What exactly are you doing down here?" he asked, glaring at the two of them.

"I wanted you two to meet. I just finished telling Ally about us after your appearance at the bal masque. He knows pretty much everything." She knew that Erik would be mad, but at the moment she was in love and did not care.

Erik glared at her and then looked Alistair up and down. "So you're the Picard boy. Well, come on, what have you to say?"

Alistair cleared his throat and simply said, "I don't care."

"What?" asked Erik. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I heard your story, and I don't care. I don't care that you're deformed and that you abandoned Becks, and that you've been haunting the Opera Populaire. It doesn't bother me."

Erik and Rebecca looked at the young man in puzzlement. Neither of them really understood what he meant by saying this. "Uh, Ally? We're not really sure what you mean when you say you 'don't care'. Could you elaborate for us?" asked Rebecca.

"Yes. What I mean to say is," he stopped mid sentence, as though he too were confused by it all, "well what I meant was…you know, I really can't remember what I meant. I'm sorry." And then he sat down and became very deep in thought, trying to remember what he meant.

Erik and Rebecca stared at him for several moments. "Ally, are you alright?" she asked him. His face was growing pale and his eyes were watering.

He looked up at her and shook his head. "I think," he wheezed, "that I'm having an allergic reaction to something." And then, the boy fainted dead away. Luckily Erik, being swift as he was, managed to catch him before he tumbled off his chair and into the lake.

"Come Rebecca, we must get him out of here," he said, carrying the boy to the boat, and placing him in. Rebecca got in after her father, and they pushed across the lake as fast as they could. When they reached the other shore, Alistair's skin had developed a peculiar rash which was spreading quickly. Erik lifted him out of the boat and the three of them rushed up a pathway to that lead to Madame Giry's quarters.

"Antoinette," said Erik, dropping the boy onto her bed. The older woman was just coming into the room from the masquerade at that moment. "We must fetch this boy a doctor straight away."

Antoinette took a look at the boy, and then rushed out of the room to find a physician. Erik and Rebecca, meanwhile, found a cold cloth an put it on the boy's forehead, for he now had a fever as well. Rebecca kneeled next to the bed, took his swollen hand into hers, and began to cry. Erik took a seat in the corner and watched as his daughter leaned over the unfortunate soul. He wondered what possibly could have caused such a reaction as this. The only plants he had down there were roses and Rebecca had been giving those to him all along. Then it hit him, he had bought a crate of peanuts recently, and had been leaving shells all over the lair. (Peanuts help him concentrate…duh!) Alistair was probably allergic to them!

Despite not particularly liking the boy, he told Rebecca he'd be right back, and ran down to the lair to find one of his potion remedies. Years ago when he traveled with the gypsies, he had found one tonic in particular that happened to cure peanut allergies. He stole it from them, because he knew that if one died from peanut allergies, then there would be less to beat him and he could perhaps escape easier. Now he was glad that he had taken it, and rushed back to the room where Alistair was fading fast.

"Here, feed him some of this," he said, handing the little cordial to Rebecca. She pulled the cork out of the lid and held Alistair's head up to pour some into his mouth. Immediately they could see the liquid working wonders. His face regained some of its colour and the swelling went down considerably.

"Oh thank you father," said Rebecca, giving her father a big hug. Then she turned back to where her beau was awaking. She grabbed his hand again and kissed it. "Ally, are you alright?"

He nodded weakly and mouthed 'yes'. Rebecca sighed with relief and kissed his hand again. Just then, Madame Giry appeared with the doctor. "Here he is monsieur," she said, pointing to Alistair.

The doctor stepped over to Alistair and looked him over. "There doesn't appear to be anything wrong with him, what is the meaning of this?" he raised a bushy black eyebrow as he said this, as if they had been playing a joke on him.

Madame Giry was speechless; the last time she saw Alistair, he had a rash covering his body, was swollen, could not speak, and was deathly pale. "I don't know monsieur," she said.

"Father gave him a tonic that cured him nearly instantly," supplied Rebecca, gesturing to the small cordial in her father's gloved hand.

The doctor took the bottle from Erik and peered inside, trying to inspect it. Finally, he gave it back to Erik and went over to check the boy's temperature. "Well, he seems fine now. Whatever you gave him certainly did the trick. Just keep him cool, and avoid whatever it was that caused this." He tipped his hat to everyone, and left the room.

"Thank you sir," whispered Alistair to Erik.

Erik nodded and said, "You're quite welcome young man, but…you owe me one." And they all laughed, for that was a very un-Erik like thing to say.