Disclaimer: Don't own Phantom.

XXX

Erik woke to sunlight streaking across the bed, blinding him when his eyes snapped open and forcing a grunt of discomfort and irritation from his lips. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes a bit, than gave a soft sigh as he looked at Christine, curled up in the blankets and her exposed skin glowing in the light of the sun.

Any suppressed anger at the move that Erik might have been feeling vanished at the sight of his beautiful wife bathed in sunlight, her bare back creamy and healthy looking. Perhaps, with time, she would not be so deathly pale…

Startled from his thoughts by meowing at the door, Erik realized that Ayesha had been closed out of the room for the night, and a rush of guilt filled him as he stood and quickly strode to let his beloved friend into the room where she belonged. As Ayesha hopped up on the bed to make herself at home, Erik began to dress, putting on a pair of plain black trousers and a crisp white shirt. Leaving it mostly unbuttoned, he moved to Christine's side of the bed, pulling the blankets back off of her and stroking his fingers down her spine.

"Wake, up, ma petite, and we shall have breakfast in our new home." he purred, and Christine stirred slightly, than let her eyes flutter open to meet Erik's happily.

"Oh, it wasn't a dream, we're really here!" she whispered, sitting up and letting the blankets fall around her as she took Erik's hand and guided him to sit on the side of the bed next to her.

Erik felt a stirring of desire at the sight of Christine's naked form, and swallowed thickly, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Of course it wasn't a dream, my darling." he murmured softly against her ear, and Christine shivered.

"Come, put some clothes on, wicked temptress, or your husband will not let you get up for another hour, at least!"

Giggling, Christine flounced out of bed and padded to the wardrobe, flipping through her dresses and finally picking out a rose colored gown that she knew Erik loved. Just as she was about to put it on, Erik's hand fell to her shoulder.

"My dear, no longer do we live somewhere that allows you to dress as such. We're above ground, people are all around, and you must wear all your clothing."

Flushing scarlet, Christine nodded and found a chemise, then corset, and began to put on the garments she was so unused to wearing. Struggling with the ties of her corset, Erik came to her rescue, tying the fastenings nice and snug, then helping her slip the dress on over the top.

As Christine disappeared into the bathroom to fix her hair and do whatever other womanly things she felt needed to be done, Erik slipped into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast.

And that was when he saw it. There, on the table before him, a note.

Monsieur Opera Ghost-

Do not think you have been forgotten. Do not think for a moment that I do not remember all that you have put the people of Paris through, all that you have done to myself and the woman I love.

I'm watching you, Phantom, and you would be wise to watch out for me, as well.

Erik's jaw clenched, and he crumpled the paper in his hands, throwing it toward the wastebasket and striding away before noticing it bounce off of the wall and land a few feet away. Quickly he busied himself with making some eggs on their new, and very fancy, stove.

How did he find us? No one knew where we were going, just Madame Giry and her daughter… did he follow them?

Damn! That fool, how did he get into the house!

Broken out of his thoughts by the sound of his wife's footsteps outside the room, Erik put his anger aside.

"Come, my dear, and have some breakfast!"

Oh, the Vicomte would pay. And he would pay with his blood. All in due time…