Ok, so I really like that I have over 200 reads, but a little saddened that I only have 7 reviews... this makes me just a little sad. So if it's not too much to ask (and I don't think it is) would you please press the review button and write some comments so I can know how to improve and such?

Enough with my complaints... on with the next chapter!

Oh yeah, I don't own anything POTO :)

Ohh there were candles all around, and mist, and a lake, and a boat and a—MAN!

My gaze followed the hand, up his arm and to his masked face. I saw fear, anger, and murder flash through his eyes.

Before I could say anything he had snatched his hand away and had the Punjab around my neck.

Keep your hand at the level of your eyes? Bullshit!

I could already feel death coming on, and I had been here for not even an hour.

She didn't even look frightened as I tightened the rope around her neck. Her blue eyes mocked me beneath her mask, as if she was silently saying "Do it, you've done it before, I know all about you."

That's when I realized she hadn't done anything. My lust to kill made me jump on this innocent girl who had done nothing but be clumsy.

I let the rope fall slack around her neck and she rolled off the sofa. She began coughing and grabbing her neck, massaging the red marks that were slightly bleeding with her fingers.

"THAT HURT!" I said glaring up at him from my crouching position on the floor, "What was that about!"

I tried to stand up, but found it too dizzying and ended up on my butt on the floor again. Man I must have hit my head really hard…

"Lay back down on the divan, and I'll get you some tea," He looked at me massaging my neck and added guiltily, "and maybe some ice."

I saw him disappear into another room I guessed to be his kitchen. I removed my mask and rubbed my face. Man that really rubbed my face raw! I smoothed out my hair and my dress, and stood up cautiously.

I didn't fall over! YAY! So I began looking around for a mirror.

Mirror? Here? No Sheridan, don't be retarded…

I didn't even hear him come up and stand next to me with a tray of tea and ice in a makeshift ice pack wrapped in a towel.

"Mademoiselle, please, sit down… You must excuse me for my behavior, I—"

"I know," I said, and then immediately covered my mouth.

"Excuse me?" He said the suspicion in his voice evident as he stared me down. "Where exactly are you from and who are you?" I could see he had slipped his hand in his cape and I could only imagine he was fingering his Punjab again.

"Well..." I began lamely, smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress.

Well… I'm from the future and I don't know how I got here, but I'm here now, and I'm absolutely obsessed with you! NOW LET'S GO SHAG!

"Well…" I began again snapping back to reality.

"Where do you live? Here at the opera?"

"No, I live… Well I guess I live on the streets now. I don't have a home here in Paris…" I looked out at the underground lake thinking about how I would probably never return home.

"You have no place to live then? You're homeless?"

I turned back to look at him, and my eyes getting a little watery only nodded.

"Well, there are plenty of horrible little chits in the ballet corps. You'd fit right in there, can you dance at all?"

I glared at him and responded with a curt, "No, I don't dance."

"Well you have to do something, you can't die on the streets, and I'm not just going to throw you out…" His eyes seemed to glaze over and I knew it was better not to say anything until he decided to acknowledge me again.

A few silent minutes later he turned to me and said, "Well, as long as you don't decide to run into me and ruin all of my music, you can stay here until you find something… but, this is my home, and you will respect that and my privacy."

"Agreed." I said and attempted to smile while he got up to play a piece I didn't recognize.

reiviews? if it's not too much to ask...