Author's Note: He's baaaack!

Arrangements

Christine woke up the next day in extreme pain. Her head was thrumming and her body was stiff. She attempted to rise, but in vain. Memories from last night rushed back to her. The town…a man…blackness…pain…fear…a savior…a horse…a pungent smell…green eyes…safety. Christine gasped in amazement that she was still alive. She thought for sure that she would not survive the night.

She had a pretty good idea of the identity of the man who saved her, but needed to confirm her guess. She tried to get up again, slowly. Her body screamed in protest, but she struggled against it. Eventually, she managed to sit. Christine looked down at her body to survey the damage: bruises covered her arms, intermingling with lacerations from the gravel road. To her relief, she found she was in her clothes from last night. She felt grimy and disgusting, but was still grateful for her privacy.

'Not like that matters much from the state I was in last night,' she recalled with a frown.

She surveyed the room. The walls were cream, accented with crimson. The original cherry wood was still present, a motif throughout the château. The plasma television on the wall and the expensive-looking stereo system did not clash with the fine interior like Christine expected. Instead, the modern equipment gave the room a feel of chic antiquity. Like all of the rooms, a huge fireplace stood against the wall.

"Where am I?" she said, thinking aloud.

"Safe."

The reply came from the far side of the room, where Christine looked first with fear, then with gratitude. She recognized the voice. Not only that, but she recognized the man.

"Erik," she breathed, hardly louder than the rustle of his clothes as he moved towards her.

'Ten years did little to change him,' she thought, surveying him as he walked.

He was taller now, his face more mature. Other than that, he looked very much the same: same style of dress, same sleek black hair, same mysterious white mask. His gait was slow and purposeful, powerful and intimidating. Reaching the side of the bed, he stood over her for a second. She looked into his eyes and shivered with anticipation. Christine did not know what she was waiting for, but was confused at a twinge of disappointment as he simply sat down beside her. Both were silent for a moment, relishing their reunion, the reunion that neither thought would happen.

"The bathroom is the door to the left," he said matter-of-factly. "You willfind that everything you need is provided. Breakfast will be ready whenever you finish. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call."

"Erik," she said softly. She loved the feel of his name on her lips. She looked down and twiddled the sheets in her hands. "Thank you."

She could feel his eyes on her, burning through her skin and into her very soul, searching it for sincerity. As much as she wanted to meet his gaze, she was afraid of what she would see.

"You are welcome," he said just as softly. He stood and walked to the door as Christine sat in the bed, mulling over all that had passed.

XOX

Her shower was nothing short of heavenly. By the time she was out, Christine felt like a new person. The warm water had relaxed her muscles. Even though bruises still marred her fair skin, she could move without much pain. Toweling off, she was surprised to see that a pile of her clothes had been left on the shelf.

'A man picking out my clothes? Hm, hopefully he has better taste than Raoul…' She remembered one incident where he had asked her if he could pick out what she was to wear that day. It was hideous; Raoul hadpicked out the most scandalous pieces in her wardrobe. Christine wore it, though. Not with a grin, as such, but secure with the knowledge that Raoul was happy.

To her satisfaction, the outfit was quite fashionable. Everything matched and was appropriate. Christine was impressed.

Christine left the bathroom and walked to the door through which Erik had exited. She turned the knob and pulled the door forward when she walked into something hard. With an "oomph", Christine reeled back slightly. When she saw that the object she had walked into was Erik, or rather, Erik's chest, she started to blush madly. Uncomfortable, she mumbled an apology while staring intently at the floor.

Noticing her discomfort, Erik gave a small smile. "Come. Breakfast is this way."

Christine heard his smile and blushed even harder at the thought of his amusement at her expense. 'I'm a grown woman,' she silently scolded herself, 'not a tittering teenager. Get a grip, Christine!'

She enjoyed a delicious but slightly awkward breakfast of croissants and jam. Conversation was limited to the weather and her stay in France. Christine wondered if they would ever press upon the more interesting topics.

"So," she started, helping Erik clear the table and hoping to inspire conversation.

"I will take you back to your room now. You should rest," he stated, trying, but failing, to ignore Christine's fallen expression.

Aware that she did not mask her disappointment, Christine quietly agreed.

"Do you remember your question about the fireplaces? If they existed throughout the castle?"

Christine smiled and nodded. 'He remembers!' she thought excitedly.

"They do," Erik said, and before Christine could see where his hand went, the fireplace opened to reveal a dark and dry passageway. He stepped over the threshold and looked back at a gaping Christine. He held out his hand, which she took after only a moment's hesitation.

She gave a start as the secret door closed behind her. "How did you find out about these?"

"The first one was an accident. As for the rest, I knew what to look for."

"And what did you look for?" Christine asked, hoping he would fall for the trap.

He gave a small chuckle and looked back at her with amusement in his eyes and a grin dancing on his lips. "It is different for each fireplace, but I would not go searching for them. Traps are set throughout the paths, just in case. And over 100 tunnels exist to my knowledge. If you venture into one of them without a guide, well, you may not come back out again."

"But you know where you're going?" she questioned.

"More or less."

"That's encouraging," she said. He laughed quietly and led her onwards. In about two minutes, Erik flipped another hidden switch and Christine found herself walking out her own fireplace.

"Thank you, Erik, for everything."

"De rien, ma cherie," he responded, still holding her hand. He was about to turn back when Christine said, "Stop."

His eyes betrayed his surprise, but he recovered quickly.

"I want to see you again," she said, a little startled at herself for her boldness.

He hesitated for a moment, as if thinking about her proposal. With one hand behind her back, Christine crossed her fingers.

"Meet me at the entrance of the south-west wing at 10 p.m. tonight. And wear comfortable clothes."

Erik lifted her hand to his lips, placing upon it a soft kiss while staring deeply into her amber eyes. He walked into the fireplace, leaving Christine with a fluttering heart and the silliest concern of what she was going to wear.