Hello to all you wonderful reviewers. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. It's much less intense than the first chapter but it's laying the groundwork for the story. So if you liked the first chapter, you'll get more of that later on. Remember, this is a Phantom of the Opera story and I like my Phantom INTENSE.

Disclaimer: I did not invent the Phantom of the Opera character. However, all the other characters are my own with the possible exception of an occasional visit from Christine, Raoul, Madame Giry, Meg, etc. You all know whom I'm talking about.

Remember: READ and REVIEW (please, por favor)

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Chapter 2 Shelter

Jade. The name rolled across his lips and he tasted it like a good French wine.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, mlle. Jade. My name is Pierre."

He bowed slightly, breaking his gaze. Then, shifting his weight back onto his heels, he looked again into her eyes.

It was as if his slight shift of posture had created a wave in the space between them. She felt her body give as her legs went out beneath her. She continued to look into his eyes with an intensely direct stare, and then she collapsed.

Suddenly, he was holding her up. As her senses began to fade, she looked at the sky and wondered absently if it would rain again.

With his arm around her waist, he quickly reached into the stand and pulled out a rough wooden bench that he placed in front of the market stall. Gently he sat her on the bench while watching her face. The drifting, far away look gradually receded. Slowly the color returned to her face.

"Mlle Jade, when was the last time your ate?"

She gave him an empty look. "Ate?" she said absently.

Jade leaned with her back against the stall, scarcely aware of the man who loomed above her. It felt good to be off her feet. She had been standing since awakening in the early morning hours when the rain began. Looking up at the sky, she saw a distant bird flying in slow dipping circles. Its calm movement was mesmerizing. Her head moved slightly in rhythm with the bird's slow sweeping flight. A release began to roll across her body.

Pierre looked at her carefully. When her strength appeared to return he gradually eased his grip and then he finally released her.

She was sitting there looking up at the sky. He wanted to lay her flat on the ground and let her rest but he didn't have a way to shield her from the curious eyes of strangers. He looked around and seeing an empty crate he placed it beneath her legs. There! He thought. That should keep her from falling.

He returned to his work but kept a close eye on her. She continued to gaze upwards.

Waves of release swept her body. She forgot about her hunger. It felt so good to rest here and to feel her legs stretched out; to be able to close both eyes and drift.

From the stall came a soft melody that the man was humming. It was an old country tune that she had heard as a child. His voice was soft and deep with a tender quality that lulled her senses. It evoked peaceful feelings. She smelled the good bread that her mother made for their household, and heard the rustle of stiff fabric as she carried it to the table. She felt his smooth lips on her forehead…

The clouds were thinning and the rain had stopped. After the intensity of the day's storms the air had been wiped clean of the city's soot and dust and there was an increase in clarity of distant sounds. The city was renewed by the change. People moved briskly about, reclaiming the time lost during the inclement weather. The brick courtyard echoed the movements of merchants clearing out their stalls

Pierre watched her out of the corner of his eye as he packed up the remaining produce. He was trying to decide what to do. Should he stay in Paris tonight? Or should he make the trip to the inn and return in the morning? He felt oddly responsible for the young woman who had fallen asleep against his market stand. Could he persuade her to allow him to help? She needed a safe place to sleep and a dozen good meals. He knew that she had no reason to trust him as a friend and would probably reject any offer that was associated with risk.

He sighed and shook his head. These days his life seemed to be going through an unusual amount of change. Just yesterday an old friend who was working at the Opera Populaire visited him. The man asked Pierre if he would supply produce to the Opera Café. Also, the management needed skilled carpenters and other workers to renovate the theatre portion of the building. His friend was looking for steady reliable help for various departments of the Opera. The fire of the previous year and the preceding events had given the place a bad name that had handicapped his hiring efforts.

Pierre had listened intently. He could use the extra business.

Pierre pulled the cart to the stall and began loading the produce. He wondered how much extra money he could earn if he made an extra trip to Paris each week. It would be necessary to make arrangements with his neighbor to deal with certain matters at home, but that would probably be easy enough to do.

He looked at his small friend. Was she the sort of person who would prefer life in the city or would she be more comfortable in the countryside? She looked like somebody who wasn't afraid of hard work. The chance that she'd come back with him to his home was very slim. She wouldn't feel secure placing her life in his hands.

He stopped his work for a moment and recalled how she had looked at him when she told him her name. Such an intense directness, he thought. She goes right to the heart. There's no nonsense about her. Maybe that's why she's in the state that she is. No compromising.

A memory arose: the wild hawk that he had found in the orchard a couple of years ago. The bird had no evidence of an injury except that it couldn't fly. He brought it home with some difficulty since it was still strong enough to tear at his hands when he approached it. He fed it for a week, admiring its beauty and manner. Although flightless, it had a powerful grace. And those fierce eyes! They took you away from your every day life. They commanded an innate respect. Yes, it had been beautiful. He was sorry when it faded away from an unknown illness and eventually died.

He looked back at her and it suddenly came to him that something of what he felt for the hawk he also felt for this woman. That realization was a little disturbing. It crossed his mind that loving things that were truly wild was dangerous.

His work was done and she still slept. He approached her slowly and carefully so as not to startle her.

"Jade, wake up" he repeated several times. She stirred slowly, awakening from a deep sleep. At last her eyes opened. She looked towards his voice. Her eyes were dreamily half open and her face was soft.

"We need to get going. We only have several hours before sunset. Where would you like to go for supper?"

At that moment he had decided that it was best to act in a matter of fact way when he presented his plan to her. He wouldn't battle with the issue of trust. Rather, he would deal with things in a simple practical manner. Night was coming. They needed to eat. Then they would need to find a place to sleep for the night.

Jade sat up slowly. She still felt extremely tired but the nap had helped. Her stomach growled loudly.

"I don't have any money for food," she said. Her softness was gone. The strength had returned to her face.

Facing her, Pierre mentally braced himself and lowered his upper body slightly so that he was several inches shorter. Looking at her as directly as she did at him he said firmly, "you are not yet dead from hunger, but at the rate you're going you'll be there soon enough. I don't want to be part of that. I don't expect you to pay me back. I just want you to join me for supper tonight. We can go to a café that's just outside the market place. The food's good there and doesn't cost much."

As soon as he finished he straightened up and watched for her reaction. He said a little prayer to the Virgin Mary asking that common sense prevail.

Jade looked at Pierre and said nothing. Her face was expressionless. This man appeared to simply want to help her. She shrugged her shoulders briefly to show a reluctant acquiescence. What choice did she have? He was right about the starvation part. It would be stupid to turn down his offer. If there were to be consequences from his help she would have to deal with them when they arose.

Pierre asked one of his neighbors to watch his goods and then led the way to the café.

They had a simple wholesome meal. Jade ate slowly and carefully as Pierre watched over her. He had been a little worried that she would eat too much too fast since she wouldn't know when her next meal would come. Instead, she had placed more than half her food aside to take with her when they left the café. She rarely raised her eyes above the plate. There was no conversation between them.

As they left the café, Pierre looked to the south. In the not too far distance was the dome of the Opera Populaire. He pointed towards it and turning to her said, "I think there's work there if you want it."

Jade looked in the direction that he was pointing. The opera house towered above adjacent buildings and established itself as a dominant presence on the street.

A strange feeling ran along her spine as she looked at the massive building. It was a signal that something important would happen there. She'd had that feeling before, and it had always shown her where she needed to be. The last time she'd felt it was weeks ago when she chose to come to Paris.

She waited outside the café as Pierre returned to the marketplace for his cart. He had told her that he had business at the opera house and that he would walk with her there.

Turning towards the great building, she shut her eyes. In her mind she faintly heard an unfamiliar melody whose beauty caused her to smile. It came from the opera house. It was another sign telling her that for now, this place was her destiny.

When he returned, they walked together down the damp street as the opera house slowly rose before them.