It was odd that something he had shunned for so long could be so comforting. He found that though the girl slept most of the time, waking only when he summoned her to eat, it was…pleasant to just hear another living creature breathing in his home.

Taking care of the girl mercifully occupied his time and kept him from brooding more than usual. Lefevre was taking his time in announcing his retirement – damn him! – as the paperwork for the sale apparently was still being vetted by the new owners' solicitors. But having to worry about procuring food for the girl, and then worrying about how much she ate provided him with enough of a distraction to keep his foul mood at bay.

By the end of the second day, the girl was much stronger. She had graduated from being spoon-fed to taking the spoon herself while he held the bowl for her. And always, after every meal, she would take his hand and press it to her cheek.

He had learned not to flinch at the touch, and even found himself looking forward to it. After all, if he was to submit to the caresses of Christine's love, he would need to learn to endure human contact.

But this little interlude of peace and routine did not last long. Lefevre finally announced his retirement, and he had been able to put his plan into action.

That night, he took especial care in dressing. He was in the little alcove that served as his occasional bedroom – with a rumpled, long-unused bed and a tall armoire that held his garments.

He was fussing with his cravat when he heard the sound. A small rustling – like that of a cotton nightshirt, he guessed. Turning around, he saw the girl, leaning against the side of the armoire, arms crossed, with an amused smile on her face.

"What?" he demanded irritably, his fingers inexplicably getting tangled with the cravat.

The girl quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"It is of no concern to you," he said, guessing what her expression meant.

Her smirk widened into a grin – though he noticed she kept her lips closed. She stepped over to him and batted his hands away from his cravat.

"What are you -?" he started to ask, only to be silenced by her finger against his lips. He watched in a puzzled fascination as she deftly tied his cravat perfectly. He saw her expression fade from amused to almost sad and nostalgic. She shook off her reverie and patted the cravat into place.

"Thank you," he said, the unfamiliar words sounding strange said in his voice. The girl nodded, then stepped back and helped him with his waistcoat, overcoat and cloak. He looked over at her as he tied the cloak and saw that she was smiling at him. He felt his lips twitch slightly in that most unused of gestures for him.

Then the girl pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and pretended to swoon, executing a lopsided pirouette and collapsing onto his bed. She raised herself on her elbows and smirked at him.

"Piss off," he said, though he found his lips stretching even further into a smile.

She rolled her eyes and sat upright. Something about the way her eyes looked in the candlelight reminded him of one last item of business to be taken care of before he attended the performance.

"You will remain here, in that bed, until I come to you and say you may rise," he said. The alcove was hidden enough that Christine would never know the girl was there until he chose to reveal her.

The girl cocked her head to one side and gave him an inquisitive look.

"You'll do it, or find yourself out on the streets again," he said severely.

The girl's expression turned sullen, but to his relief, she nodded.

"And be quiet," he added as he turned and walked away, wondering how she would take his attempt at humor.

The thudding sound of a book being thrown against the wall gave him his answer.

But it didn't really matter. Soon, he'd be with Christine.

A/N: Sorry it's so short, but I wanted to get something up for y'all. I'm still deciding whether I should follow movie-verse and write around it, or go in a slightly different direction...votes? feedback?

And again, a huge thank you to all my reviewers - you're the ones who keep me going!

Kate September