To PHANTOMISS OF THEM ALL: thank you again for your review! ;-)

It felt strange creeping into Carlotta's dressing room, but she wanted to see the passage way through the mirror. She had always taken the main route when going down to the cellars, but this way seemed more dangerous, more exciting. But, oh! He would be so mad with her when she showed up unexpectedly! He absolutely despised surprise visitors. That was precisely why the voyage down to his living quarters was armed with death traps.

'Oh no…'she thought, suddenly alarmed. She hadn't even thought of the traps he may have set along the way. Despite the fact that Christine would have gone down this very corridor, he could have easily avoided his own "safety mechanisms".

It was a risk she thought was necessary to take. She wanted to go to him, and right now, there was no one to prevent her. She made sure this time that her mother was busy and could not distract her. When she entered the mirror and quietly closed it behind her, she removed her ballet slippers and left them in one of the corners.

She gasped when her stocking clad feet hit the cold floor. Damn, she should have changed or at least have brought another pair of shoes. And, surprisingly enough, it was dark. When was she going to learn? Oh well, this would make her journey a little less noticeable…she hoped.

With her hand against the wall, Meg used it as a guide. There were several turns until she finally reached a staircase. Here, torches were lit and she could discern her surroundings better. She couldn't help the thrill that rushed down her spine. As much as this little adventure was a gamble, it was oddly romantic. She was secretly sneaking down to an underground palace where she would soon encounter a strange, but beautiful creature.

'A beautiful creature who has no interest in you other than to be your tutor…'she mentally corrected herself. The thought dampened her spirits. If she could be the center of his attention for but a day, she would be content. But alas, she knew that would never be. When Erik had his heart set on something, he would pursue it no matter what the cost.

When she reached the end of the winding staircases she froze. The lake…that damned lake! And of course for her convenience there was no boat! Meg looked hesitantly over her shoulder. It was suddenly much colder and she shivered. She had come this far, she couldn't turn back! But was it really worth it? Did she really want to swim in that dreary lake just to deliver a message that he would ultimately find out himself?

'But I have to see him…'Oh to hell with it! Carefully, she stepped down the little stone stairs and into the water. It was like ice…'Of course it's cold, you fool!' Again she looked over her shoulder, as if she was expecting him to appear and save her from her idiocy. No such luck. The lake looked deep, and there was no sense in ruining her dance costume. Meg removed the outer layers until she was left in nothing but a short chemise and her stockings. What a site she would be when she reached Erik.

She put the discarded skirt near the dock and took a deep breath before fully emerging into the water. It was as though a thousand knives had pierced her. Her fingers and toes were numb and she had half a sense to turn around. She fought with herself and somehow managed to keep going. Her lessons on swimming were minimal, having done it maybe once or twice during the summer months; but now, it was such a struggle to lift her arms and kick her legs.

The stress was beginning to drain her. The vigorous ballet practice before this was not an aid to her cause. Meg stopped for one moment and put her weight against a stone pillar. Her hair was sticking to her face and neck, her chest was heaving in her now transparent undergarments, and she was freezing. Honestly, why did she insist on doing such things? But it was not as if she could turn around now, and there was no other exit for her to escape through. Besides, what would her mother say if she showed up in wet garments?

For a few moments, Meg allowed her tears to well up. There was just no way to please everyone. If she focused on making one person happy, someone else was disappointed in her. For once in her life, why couldn't she make herself happy! With a strangled cry, she pushed off the pillar and continued to swim towards her destination. She just wanted to get out of this damned lake!

Finally, she came to the familiar iron-gate that was draped with old stage curtains, obscuring the view of the Phantom's underground lair. Thankfully for her, she knew there was another door. With great difficulty, Meg pushed herself up onto the ledge where the door was hidden. She was shaking uncontrollably and her pale skin looked nearly blue. When she came to the door she rested a quivering hand on the frame and frowned. It looked heavy and she couldn't find the handle.

She had to get inside! She would freeze to death if she couldn't find the handle! Unfortunately she had never used the door before, only watched Erik once a long time ago. Meg was half tempted to pound on it when she saw a tiny lever near the top left corner. It was barely within reach even when she stood on the tips of her toes. The door pushed open with a slight creak and Meg winced at the noise. Surely he would have heard that. Oh but she didn't care! It was so cold!

The door shut behind her and her arms immediately wrapped across her chest. Her teeth were chattering and she looked around for a blanket or towel, anything for warmth. Further away, she saw his black cape lying on the ground. Rushing over to it she threw it around her shoulders, grateful for the little heat that it gave.

Meg looked about her and wondered if Erik was even here. It was awfully quiet and there was no evidence of another being there, save for the lighted candles. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement from one of the rooms. She made her way as quickly as possible into a tiny alcove near a draped mirror.

Peaking out behind the curtain, she watched Erik loosen his collar and untuck the shirt tails from his pants as he made his way to a stand where a score of music was propped. It was then that Meg realized he did not wear his mask! She could not suppress a small gasp and then cursed herself for doing so.

Erik stopped his movements and cocked his head, listening intently. When he turned his head towards her she was allowed a better view of his scarred face. It truly was not as unbearable as she had imagined or horrendous as Joseph Buquet had described. By the length and severity of it, as it covered a small portion of his scalp, it was obvious he had worn a wig when she had been with him. His real hair was a bit thinner with a few brown highlights, falling in wisps across his face. It actually made him look quite attractive…

Meg pushed those thoughts aside as Erik made his way towards her. She held her breath when he looked suspiciously at the spot on the floor that his cape had previously occupied. He stopped a few feet short of where she was hiding.

It appears you have received more than you bargained for. Are you content that you have now seen the face of the Phantom, Little Giry?" His voice was stern, his gaze fierce.

With eyes downcast more out of shame than of fright, Meg moved away from her hiding place. She tightened her grasp on the cape and prayed silently for mercy.

"You wanted to see. Why do you not look upon my humiliating distortion?" he snapped.

Meg looked up at him, her teeth still chattering. "F-f-forgive me, I d-d-didn't mean to intrude…"

He frowned. "You are soaking wet. What happened?"

"I n-n-needed to s-s-see you," She stammered. She was so cold.

For a moment he seemed hesitant to do anything. Perhaps he was afraid that she would turn away from him if he tried to touch her.

"Come, you must get out of those clothes. You'll catch a death of a cold." The anger in his tone died somewhat.

Meg took one step and nearly faltered. In a flash, Erik was at her side. He took her into his arms and carried her over to his bedroom. Being up against his body, Meg could feel the warmth radiating from him. She rested her head against his shoulder and she felt his muscles tense. Clearly he was uncomfortable.

'He can't possibly be more uncomfortable than me!' She thought. She was practically naked!

He carried her to his room where he put her down then bade her sit on the edge of the bed. Meg watched him go about the room with interest. His every movement seemed planned out, poised even. He opened a chest and removed a black velvet robe, then went to hand it to her.

"I'll ruin it!" she tried to protest, and then almost laughed when she realized she was soaking the silky lining of his cape.

"It will be much warmer, I assure you."

She reached out to take it and as soon as it left her fingers, he turned and made for the door.

"I'll have a warm bath prepared for you. Should you acquire more suitable clothing, you may look in the closet."

Meg saw that in one corner of the room there was indeed a small closet. As soon as he walked out of the room, she removed the cape and propped it on a nearby chair. She then proceeded to remove her wet garments and threw them in a corner before tying the robe around her. It was extremely long on the arms and almost touched her feet. She rolled up the sleeves, and walked across the room.

When she opened the closet, she expected to be looking for a shirt and a pair of pants that no longer fit him, but to her surprise, she found a few gowns. They were all darker shades, three reds and one black. It was nothing extravagant, but they would suit her purpose. She reached in and took a deep maroon colored dress when she frowned suddenly. What on earth was Erik doing with dresses down here?

It was nothing she could concern herself with now. All she wanted was that warm bath. Meg laid the dress out on the bed and walked out of the room. She watched as Erik put a couple towels next to the steaming bath. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked down the stairs and stopped in front of the tub.

'It's a little out in the open…'she thought nervously. Why did that thought not bother her as it should have?

"It should be warm enough. I'll have some tea ready when you're finished," He said quietly, his gaze focused away from her.

As he left her, he pulled a curtain across the corner and attached it to a hook.

Meg removed the robe and slowly sunk into the inviting warmth. She sighed when she had fully submerged and rested her head against the side. Her tense muscled began to relax, and the aching in her limbs were soothed. There was going to be so much pressure on her now that rehearsals were beginning for the new production, as there was for every production. She couldn't even remember the last time she was able to get quiet time for herself. For just a few moments she was able to pretend she was someone else with a different, less demanding life.

Her fantasies faded when she heard movement and the cluttering of papers. It was then that she truly realized how close he was to her and what a vulnerable state she was in. She closed her eyes and envisioned him kneeling beside the tub, kneading her sore muscles with his gifted hands. Before she could retract it, she let out a soft moan. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with apprehension. Did he hear her? 'Oh God!'

Meg sat quietly for a few moments, listening for sounds. If he had heard her, he was not making it obvious because things were still being moved. She closed her eyes in some what of relief, scolding herself for such foolish thoughts. She proceeded to wash herself and then reached for a towel that was lying on the floor.

Quickly drying herself, she reached for the discarded robe and wrapped it tightly around her before pulling back the curtain. Her movements caught Erik's attention and he looked up at her from the bench at his organ. He had replaced his mask and wig and his shirt hung loosely on his body. For a brief moment, they held their gaze in silence. Meg felt a surge of pleasant heat course through her before giving him a meek smile and turned to leave.

Was it wrong for her to feel this way about a man she had known since she was a girl? For so long she had to remind herself that the relationship between them was strictly professional…but why did it have to be professional with her and not Christine? Granted, Christine was in a bit of a predicament with this new revelation, but Meg was not so stupid to believe that Erik would give up on her so easily. Erik would do anything and everything in his power to make Christine happy…

'But why Christine and not me! Have I not been loyal and obedient in every way you asked of me! Damn you, Erik!'

Meg sat down on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. It was so unlike her to be this selfish. What right did she have to tell people who they should love? With a slight shake of her head, Meg got up changed her clothes and hesitantly made her way out of the room.

She stood in the doorway and looked out at her surroundings. This place, in an odd sort of way, felt like a second home to her, but she dared not speak such thoughts aloud. She walked down a couple of steps then froze in her place when she peeked behind another curtain. There, illuminated in the darkness by several candles, was a life size mannequin of Christine wearing a wedding dress. Meg had never noticed this piece, perhaps it was new. The very appearance of it was frightening, and for a moment, she actually began to question Erik's sanity.

"I trust you are feeling more comfortable?" he asked, causing her to jump a little with unease.

Meg glanced at him, but she soon realized that he had not even looked at her. His head was bent and his shoulder hunched over a little as he continued to scribble notes on a sheet of paper.

"Yes, thank you." She walked down the rest of the stone steps in her bare feet and stood to the side of the grand organ.

Never lifting his gaze from his work he said, "There is some tea on my desk, however it is still quite hot. Take care not to burn yourself."

Meg looked over at his desk where the model of the stage stood. On it, she noticed pieces from Il Muto already set in place. It reminded her of why she had come here in the first place. Strictly business, strictly professional…

"Um, Erik?" She asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

'Could he stop writing for one minute!'

"I have something, well, important to tell you. You will not be pleased."

"It would probably have something to do with those two idiots who call themselves managers, I daresay."

Did he already know? She began to wring the material of her dress nervously in her hands.

"Well, yes I'm afraid it does."

Finally, he set down his pen and looked up at her. Now that he had focused his attention on her, Meg suddenly wished that he hadn't. Yet his reaction to her next words had thrown her off entirely.

"They are disobeying your orders again, Erik. They have told Carlotta that she will be playing the lead."

A small, knowing smile touched his lips. "It seems my eyes and ears are ever diligent even when my mind is elsewhere."

Meg felt a blush grace her cheeks. "I…I just thought you should know. Even though I knew you would find out…"

"Your thoughtfulness is appreciated. I will be sure to take heed of your warnings." Erik again turned his attention to his work.

She had the most haunting feeling that she had just set the embers of a disastrous fire aflame. Then another thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could distract him from planning too fatal destructions.

"I'm sure you're mother will be wondering where you are. I will guide you back in a moment."

His words interrupted her train of thought. It was rather late, and there was another practice her mother wished to rehearse, but, she didn't want to leave! Not yet…

"Erik?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"My music lesson…it was…overlooked, yesterday."

Erik rose from his seat without looking at her and began to shuffle loose papers together.

"So it was, but I imagine you have other things to attend to with a new opera to produce."

"No, please." Meg gently wrested a hand on his arm. He stopped his movements and she could feel that he had gone rigid. She quickly removed her hand, hoping that he would not turn on her.

"If you would not mind, I would like to practice now."

Erik turned to her, but the expression in his eyes was confusing. She could not tell if he was annoyed or just shocked by her insistence.

"Very well, shall we go through your exercises first?"

Meg nodded and he sat back down on his bench. For a half hour she exercised until he finally deemed it time to perform a song. She watched nervously as he shifted through papers, trying to decide which opera to choose from.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, removing the score from the pile. "This one will be perfect."

She looked at his face and noticed a small smile. His eyes seemed to have lit up. She then glanced at the score and paled. Her stomach dropped and she lost her voice for a moment. On the music stand was the very song Christine had sung the night before. But Meg was not a soprano, she was an alto. There would be no chance of her reaching all the pitches necessary to please her instructor.

"Erik…" she stammered.

"What?"

"I can't…it's not…"

"You can't what?" He snapped. The look he gave her made her heart thud heavily in her breast. A soft sheen of perspiration began to glisten on her forehead.

"I will not be able to sing this, Erik…I'm not a soprano."

"You would displease me by not singing it?"

Meg was barely able to suppress a gasp. "Erik, you know I could never displease you…but what you are asking of me is impossible. I would displease you by singing it!"

Erik straightened his shoulders, his hands resting on the keys. "You will sing this…from the beginning of the aria."

"Please! Erik, I can't do this!" She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

"You asked for your music lesson, did you not! I am your tutor and I know what is best for my student!" He got up from his seat and stood over her.

"Then you would know I can not sing this piece! You only want me to sing it because it reminds you of Christine!" Her hand flew to her mouth in utter astonishment. She hadn't meant to say it, but it was the truth! How could he ask her to do this!

"How dare you…my business is mine and mine alone! How dare you bring her into this!"

He began to advance on her, causing Meg to move backwards blindly.

"You sneak into my house uninvited! You don't even have to decency to tell me that you're here, but instead choose to gawk at my deformity! And now you meddle in my affairs without a second thought! You ignorant child!" he screamed at her.

He had backed her into a table ledge and she was shaking terrible, but his last statement was enough to help her overcome his menacing attack.

"A child? Is that all you see me as! I am two years Christine's senior! I'm 19, Erik! And yet you insist on calling me a child?" she questioned, straightening her posture.

She had never spoken that aloud to anyone, but now as she said it, she did feel much older. She was a woman now!

Erik was silent for a moment and Meg could feel his burning gaze travel the length of her body before he made eye contact with her. Perhaps he was taking her word seriously. She gained a little confidence at this.

"Christine is like a sister to me, you know this. I played a horrible role in your little scheme and now I've seen the consequences of my mistake."

"You know nothing of what transpired last night, mademoiselle. Nothing…"

His formal usage made her wince slightly, but she dared not falter in front of him.

"I know she fears you now, and you can't bear it…" she whispered.

Erik took another step closer to her, his body mere millimeters from hers.

"You walk a very, very thin line. Take care how you choose your words…" he whispered, leaning towards her ear.

His breath on her skin made her shiver with anticipation. He was so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. She was so tempted to just tilt her head and press her lips against his.

"Or you'll what, monsieur?" She repeated his formality.

Erik grabbed her roughly by the hips and forced her onto the table ledge. Her eyes widened in shock, but she made no move to try and stop him.

"You try my patience…and yet your refusal to acknowledge death when it is staring you in the face is admirable. Do you truly fear nothing?" He had his head so that his lips were lingering above hers tauntingly.

Meg had closed her eyes, waiting for his assault.

"At the moment? No…" she replied breathlessly.

"Good," he murmured before he brought her into a forceful, breathtaking kiss…

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