Hello, I am back again, two trips to the emergency department and several Doctors appointments later and I am now well enough to continue the story.Thank you for your feedback and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

I do not own anything by Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Susan Kay. Everything else is my own work.

An Ill Wind

After dropping Meg, Jean and the leftover Frog in the Bog off at their apartment, the de Chagny coach headed to the opera house. Erik was glad there were no more stops en route, as the Frog in the Bog he had eaten was threatening to make a reappearance.

ooo

Walking down from the rue scribe gate, Madame Giry was going to take the internal route back to her apartment from Christine's dressing room instead of walking back outside as it was safer, so she, Christine and an increasingly uncomfortable Erik were saying good night by the lake when Erik had a sudden need to run.

Slapping one hand firmly to his mouth, Erik took off like a racehorse from the starting gate, got to the lake house front door, fought with it like a man possessed slammed it open and shot inside.

"I really do not think that Frog in the bog agreed with him!" Christine declared as the silence of the fifth cellar was interrupted by the sound of vomiting coming from the house.

"I had best leave you to care for your husband." Madame Giry replied, "And to think he only ate it to spare Meredith's embarrassment, such a gentleman he has become." She added.

"Deep down I think he has always been a gentleman, he just needed the incentive to show it," Christine responded as another more violent eruption of vomiting echoed out the front door.

ooo

Christine shut and locked the front door after saying good night to Madame Giry and after removing her cloak, wandered into the sitting room, to a chorus of dry heaving, coming from Erik's bathroom.

Looking around, Christine gathered a throw from the couch and positioned it so when Erik did reappear, she could wrap him in it. Then going behind Erik's reading chair to grab another log for the fire, Christine came across Saya, and Ami were curled together in their basket looking almost like they were concerned.

"Oh, bless you both," Christine cooed as she stroked both cats, daddy will be okay, Uncle Raoul's chef just made him feel unwell, but he will get better I promise." She added picking up a log from the basket beside the cats and adding it to the fire.

A deathly moaning came from the direction of the bathroom getting louder as it was joined by the sound of drawers and an armoire being opened, finally Erik shuffled into the sitting room his face maskless and faintly green, in his pyjamas with his robe wrapped around him. Christine shot towards him and gave him a hand to the couch.

"Sit and keep warm, I am going to make you some tea." Christine informed her obviously unwell husband before heading into the kitchen.

ooo

Bringing the cup of tea back out of the kitchen, Christine had something she had to ask her poorly husband, when she saw said husband slowly coming back out of the lab with a glass containing a herbal remedy.

"Erik, do you not usually just make a herbal tea?" she asked setting the cup of black tea on the table beside his reading chair.

"Usually but since my stomach is a bit unsettled the black tea will help." Erik replied taking the cup of tea. He poured the antiemetic into the tea and drank the concoction in one go before sitting down wearily in his chair.

Erik was placing the empty cup down when Christine stepped back and looked down, she saw the wastepaper bin and in it a small off-white lump. Sitting in the bottom of the otherwise empty bin. Picking it up, it was clearly a partially chewed clove of garlic. "Erik!" Christine yelled, holding the offensive clove, "What did I tell you about Toshi Seer?" she demanded angrily.

Looking up Erik spied the offending item in his wife's hand "Is that?" He tried to ask before an Angry Christine cut him off.

"Did you really think that taking a couple of nibbles and then throwing it in the wastepaper bin would absolve you of punishment?" Christine asked icily, as Erik looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"Christine, if I were to break your strict request not to eat Torshi seer, I would have consumed the whole clove and definitely not have left evidence of my deed!" Erik replied getting annoyed that his wife was accusing him of something he definitely did not do.

"Well, no one except you, Darius and Nadir like the stuff!" Christine retorted, as Erik started sulking; just as Christine was looking closer at the two little bite marks.

"Erm Erik!" Christine called a note of concern in her voice which due to his annoyance Erik failed to pick up on.

"What are you going to accuse me of now!" he grumbled, not looking to see Christine's bottom lip trembling as she realised who had taken a bite of the garlic clove.

"Our cats bit the garlic!" Christine replied sounding upset.

That did get Erik's attention, and he quickly stood up…

Alas, Nausea plus adrenaline, plus genuinely feeling under the weather do not mix and Erik ended up, face flat on the floor.

Christine sprang into action and shot across the room the help her ailing husband, still holding the clove of pickled garlic. This did not help Erik in the slightest, in fact the strong smell of garlic was actually for the first time ever in his recollection… Disgusting!

With Christine's help Erik managed to sit up as she explained that the little nibbles were the cats, and she was terribly sorry she accused him and now she was also concerned that her cats were poisoned.

Erik got his spinning head under control and managed a sickly smile, "They are fine, the nibbles were spat out and are under the couch… There is some benefit of landing face first on the floor." He replied weakly.

Christine immediately realised that Erik was seriously not well and rushed to help him and his feet up on the couch and covered him with a blanket, before retrieving the little nibbles of garlic. "You rest maestro." She said as she smoothed his brow.

Erik turned an even deeper shade of green and slapped his hand back over his mouth before making a request he never thought he would say. "Throw the garlic away!" he begged from between his fingers.

Taking the garlic to the kitchen bin and washing her hands before going to change into her house dress Christine prepared for a very unwell Erik and a very sleepless night.

ooo

The following morning, Christine noted that despite his antiemetic Erik was back and forth to his bathroom and his armoire all night. After he appeared from his latest visit, he slipped carefully back into bed and took a swig from the bottle on his bedside table.

"Erik what is that?" Christine had to ask.

"A Kaolin mixture without the morphine for curing my current aliment!" Erik lamented "and I did make the bathroom in time every time but sorry about the laundry in the bath, I have rinsed them out."

"Oh!" Christine replied realising that she had a lot of washing and Erik was going to need a soft cushion in his reading chair, plenty of water to drink and oatmeal for breakfast. Alas worse was yet to come…

Christine had managed to get Erik to stay in bed sitting on the softest fluffiest cushion she could find. it was during a spell where Christine had left the bedroom since Erik was just finishing a bowl of oatmeal and had finally allowed the cats to sit in the room with him, that the latest issue arose…

Christine could not help but notice the loud rasping noise that was suddenly emitted from the bedroom and the coughing sounds Erik made, followed by a trip to the bathroom and then Erik opening and closing a few drawers and then it went quiet again.

When the second round erupted like a cannonade, Christine had to investigate, and alas, despite living in the opera house dormitories; with many other people; some with questionable hygiene habits, nothing could have prepared the Diva for the dankest foul smell that hit her nose as she opened the bedroom door; nor for the sight that met her now watering eyes…

The cats were both on the bed, their noses buried in the covers, and Erik, well he had located the most unsettling mask to wear, it covered his whole face, and the nose of the mask was like some strange beak. He sat in bed like some odd bird reading a book held up to the two eye holes of the mask.

"Erik?" Christine called out, one hand holding her nose shut, as the strange bird turned its face towards her.

"Mumph Mumph! Grr!" The Erik bird replied before dropping the book on the bed and shaking its fists in the air; before reaching behind its head and undoing the straps and removing the mask to reveal Erik's features screwed up in disgust.

"Sorry angel!" Erik replied finally, as he placed his hand over his nasal passages to block the smell.

"What on earth?" Christine asked pointing to the mask now sitting on the bed.

"A medieval mask designed to block ill winds and foul air!" Erik replied and he got carefully out of bed and approached his now suffering wife. "Perhaps you would like to step out of this room?" Erik asked, as he and Christine gratefully exited to the sitting room, as Erik went to close the door to the bedroom to find two Siamese cats making their own escape from the noxious fumes.

Once the door was finally shut, Erik looked embarrassed, "It seems that the infernal Frog in the bog has some nasty side effects!" he sighed.

"On that I have to agree!" Christine declared waving her hand in front of her nose and coughing as the lingering stench slowly dissipated around the lake house, "That is definitely an ill wind!".

Walking over his reading chair, Erik was carefully lowering himself down to his seat when a loud rasping sound escaped, and he paused mid-way before a look of horror came over his face.

"Oh no Erik!" Christine called out as her husband slowly rose from his partially seated position and carefully waddled back towards the bedroom cautiously.

"Oh yes Erik!" he carefully stage whispered back, as he disappeared back into the bedroom.

ooo

By the time Erik had freshened up and was re-entering the sitting room, Christine had the front door open wide and was attempting to light some incense sticks she found in a drawer for good measure as there was no breeze travelling the cellars, despite the open front door; so, the pungent aroma of ill wind was now permeating the whole house.

"NO!" Erik shouted, "Do not light those!" he yelped as Christine stopped her lit taper inches away from the incense sticks.

Christine looked at the sticks like they were about to explode and carefully put them down on the side table.

"Why?" she enquired still looking at the incense sticks like they may bite her.

"They are old and stale, the house will smell not only like sewerage but stale spices and sewerage!" Erik replied as he picked the sticks up an threw them in the bin.

"Ugh! I will most likely have an attack of the vapours at that!" Christine declared as she turned to look at Erik and promptly slapped her hand over her mouth… Just not fast enough to hide the snigger that appeared.

"What may I enquire is so funny?" Erik asked as his wife visibly fought to stop further sniggers escaping.

"What on earth are you wearing?" Christine squeaked out before another snigger forced her to put her hand back over her mouth, her eyes bulging at the ridiculous sight of the former debonair Phantom of the Opera in a snug fitting, knee length Blue and white striped mans night shirt complete with the Sleeping cap on his head from which hung a large white tassel.

"I have run out of my preferred night attire; this was one of two sets of night attire I have left clean." Erik replied in a huff. "This garment is the Daroga's fault! Just after we arrived back in Paris, he thought it was a good idea to encourage me to change the type of nightwear I had." He finished, just as Christine lost control and started to laugh.

"Seriously?" Christine asked between laughs, "You look like Wee Willie Winkie shrunk in a boil wash!" she managed before her laughter bested her and she sat down on the floor in hysterical laughter, holding her sides.

Erik drew himself up to his full height; pulled the hem of the short night shirt down back down past his now exposed knees and scowled. "I was quite happy sleeping in the same attire that I slept in in Persia!" Erik added, as Christine slowly got her laughter under control. "That was fine until I started sleep walking and one night nearly gave Darius a conniption." Erik continued.

Christine's curiosity overruled her laughter at this point and was threatening to explode. "A conniption?" she asked all agog for the answer.

Erik looked embarrassed; his skeletal cheeks flushed pink before he spoke again. "Urm yes, as you know, I shared the Daroga's apartment before I moved down here and I used to sleep in the nude, came back from working on the opera house for three days straight late one night exhausted and could not be bothered to go to my room so I stripped off and fell asleep on the couch in the parlour.

At this revelation Christine started sniggering, "Poor Darius, he's terrified of you at the best of times even now!" she said between sniggers.

Erik was starting to see the funny side, and smirked, "I knew nothing about any of this until I woke up!" he declared grinning, "Darius was in the kitchen setting the fire in the range for the morning, when this skeleton without a shred of clothing on and what eyes it had open and rolled back to the whites walked past him into the kitchen, got a glass of water and went back to the parlour."

"So where was the conniption?" Christine eagerly asked.

"Apparently, when you are half asleep, a nude walking corpse coming into your kitchen at three in the morning getting a glass of water and leaving again, causes lots of hysterical screaming! Especially in Darius's case!" Erik replied starting to laugh.

"Did the screaming not wake you?" Christine had to have this answer.

"I had gotten so used to Darius screaming periodically because of me, I was pretty immune to his tone and timbre so in my sleep it obviously did not register." Erik responded.

"So, what happened when you woke up?" Christine pressed.

"I had a very bleary eyed and angry Daroga sitting in the armchair opposite the couch, demanding to know if I was deliberately trying to send his servant crazy, and deprive said Daroga of sleep because of it?" Erik answered, "followed by the story as witnessed by Darius and then what happened after Darius's blood curdling screams woke not only the Daroga, but a large number of his neighbours as well. Finishing with a lecture on what is acceptable night attire for everywhere but Persia and that in the interests of Darius not quitting I was now going to wear nightclothes or else!"

"That does not explain the shrunken nightshirt!" Christine stated, waiting for the answer she sought.

"No," Erik agreed, "but a sleep deprived, and terrified servant sent out to purchase a gentleman's night attire with the measurements from the Daroga of 'he is about your build just get something! I am going back to sleep!' Does!" Erik answered as Christine laughed.

"Ah, that does make sense now, Darius is slim like yourself, but he is shorter than me!" Christine stated as she sniggered again.

"You think this nightshirt is bad, wait until you see other items I got told to wear, Darius made Shalvar and Jameh!" Erik prompted, as Christine took a deep breath and nearly choked, remembering that there were more pressing matters at this time, specifically ill wind free air to breathe.

"I hate to interrupt your walk down nightwear memory lane but is there any way we can get fresh air flowing through the house, the… Ill Wind is overpowering!" Christine pleaded putting her hand to her nose once again.

Erik grinned, "I have a solution!" he declared carefully walking into the music room and towards the secret door that led to one of his tunnels into the opera house and pressed on the panel that hid the lock access. "This door only leads straight up to the managers office, and then up to the roof, so all I have to do is open this door, and the perfumed breeze will be carried out of the house like smoke up a chimney!" he added as the door opened.

ooo

It was closed season, so Andre and Firmin decided that this fine morning would be a good time to sneak into the opera house and do some stock taking, specifically a few bottles each of the fine wines from the Opera house wine cellar, well they paid for it, and no one would be drinking it until next season… So why not!

Things were going pleasantly, and the managers had decided to relax in their office away from nagging wives and share a nice 'Neuf du Pap' between them before heading to their respective homes when like a phantom in the opera, their office slowly developed the aroma of a broken sewer.

"I say Andre, could that not have waited until you were at least in your own carriage?" Firmin demanded as he shoved his nose inside his glass of wine and inhaled that instead of the now foul air in the office.

"That is rich coming from you Monsieur Soda Mint!" Andre replied inhaling the aroma of his own glass of wine.

"It is not me!" Firmin declared loudly.

"It is not me either!" Andre retaliated.

"If it is not either of us, where is that appalling stench coming from?" Firmin demanded, as Andre's face turned from pale green to sickly white. "And do not start with your ghost of an opera ghost rubbish again!" he added as Andre's free and now shaking hand reached into his desk for his nerve pills.

ooo

Meanwhile down at the lake house, the air was clearing, with one exception…

"Oh Erik!" Christine complained as yet another loud rasping sound echoed around the sitting room.

"I cannot help it Woman!" Erik moaned back, "At least it is only wind now!" as the latest noxious emission wafted across Christine's nostrils.

"Either get your stomach to behave or go sit by the lake!" Christine ordered; now completely fed up with her husband's windy ailment.

"I might as well go and sit in the passageway and cut out the middleman!" Erik snapped back, his face falling as he finished his sentence when he saw Christine smile.

Christine had grown tired of Erik's temper, so she declared with a wicked smile, "That is a brilliant idea! How sweet of you and I just know you will also shut the door to prevent the odour entering the house again, you are so thoughtful!" she added sweetly, as the reality of the situation hit Erik like a tonne of bricks.

ooo

It was cold and drafty sitting in short night attire on a pouffe in a secret corridor. Erik noted as yet another bout of wind escaped. Possibly he thought he should have asked Christine at least for a blanket for his knees.

ooo

Meanwhile back up in the manager's office, the smell was getting worse and was accompanied every so often by faint groaning that seemed to come from the walls themselves.

"Err Firmin, did they ever find the remains of the opera ghost?" Andre asked as another faint groan echoed around the office.

"For heavens sakes Andre!" Firmin cried throwing his hands in the air, "I do not know, they say he fell down a deep shaft in the bottom of the cellars!"

"Do you think?" Andre started, as Firmin shot him an annoyed look.

"What I think is that Hell will freeze over before I believe in ghosts and that the staff have been lazy, and the sewer pipes have backed up, that is all!" Firmin retorted.

ooo

Down in the passageway, a now very cold Erik noted that his wind problem was starting to ease, and he was freezing, something he never noticed until Christine moved in with him and he kept the lake house warm constantly to protect her voice. The door to the house was shut but he could hear Christine humming as she pottered about, dusting in the music room. Erik cracked, his night shirt was not the only thing that had apparently shrunk the cold draft in the passage was doing nothing for him and Christine would not hear him if he just spoke due to the thick door, so, he did the only thing he could to get his wife's attention he raised his voice.

ooo

Back in the managers office, the managers were finally enjoying their wine despite the stench, when a ghostly yet oddly familiar male voice filtered through the walls.

"Please let me in, it is so cold down here and I have learnt my lesson!" the voice pleaded!

Andre choked on a mouthful of wine and started to shake, Firmin looked shocked but managed to swallow his wine before both managers placed their glasses on their desks and stared at one wall of the office where the voice seemed to emanate from. "PPP…Perhaps…" Firmin stuttered, his face an absolute picture of disbelief, "Perhaps… we need the stokers to work harder the building is cold anyway…" he looked at Andre who did not look convinced. Firmin gave up trying to ignore what his senses were telling him. "Okay, we might need a priest as well as the plumber!" as the two managers in unison slowly got up from their desks and stood in the middle of their office unsure of what to do next.

ooo

In the lake house Christine stopped her dusting and sighed, Erik could have just come back in on his own, once the wind had died down, but bless him he was still so scared about her leaving him, she gently opened the passage door to see her very cold and miserable husband still perched on his pouffe.

"You look like a frozen tomte!" She declared, "Has the wind stopped?" Christine asked gently.

"The wind has stopped…and what is a tomte?" Erik had to ask, "Is it like a Breton Korrigan?"

Come indoors and warm up and I will tell you of the Swedish Tomte!" Christine said sweetly as Erik made to stand up…

"OUCH!"

ooo

Meanwhile up in the opera house, Madame Giry had been told the managers were in and so it was a perfect time to corner them regarding changing some of the working conditions for her Corps de Ballet.

She had just reached the door of their office when a very familiar voice came from somewhere within.

"OUCH!... Damn it that has skinned my poor hide!" Erik yelped.

This was followed by Andre and Firmin running out of the door, ignoring and nearly knocking Madame Giry off her feet, fleeing as if their very lives were at risk.

"You win!" Firmin yelled at Andre as the two managers galloped down the corridor, "Priest first then plumber!" he continued as he and Andre made for the main foyer.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake what has that man done now?" Madame Giry rhetorically asked herself as she steadied herself and turned away from the rapidly departing managers, heading towards the route that would provide her with the answer quickest. She walked into their open office door, coughed at the stench and activated the leaver that would get her down to the lake house directly.

ooo

Down in the lake house, Erik was regretting using a leather pouffe as his seat with such a short night shirt, as his bare derriere protested at being ripped off the smooth leather. Christine was no help, once she had realised what had happened, she broke into a fit of giggles.

"Poor Erik!" she said between giggles, "Would you like me to smooth some balm on your soreness?" she asked before breaking into giggles yet again.

"That would be very much appreciated." Erik replied trying to hold on to what little dignity he still had, as he climbed on his hands and knees on to the couch with his now red, bare posterior up in the air waiting for his wife and the balm to come back from her dressing room.

ooo

Madame Giry got an eyeful as she entered the sitting room, Erik was thankfully facing the door of the music room as she entered so she saw his bare face before she noted his bare backside stuck up in the air.

"Ahh!" Erik yelped and tried in vain to tug the short night shirt over his exposed posterior. As Christine ran back into the sitting room clutching the jar of balm.

"I see the Frog in the bog has been as relentless on you as it was on the Vicomte de Chagny and my son in law!" Madame Giry declared shielding her eyes from the current view of Erik's nude rear end stuck up in the air.

"Oh, I had forgotten about Jean and Raoul!" Christine said as Erik took the opportunity to remove himself from his position on the couch and whilst Madame Giry was still shielding her eyes stood up, his face glowing with embarrassment, as he pulled the short shirt back down to his knees.

"How bad was it?" he asked cautiously.

Madame Giry removed her hand from her eyes and looked at the fearsome former Phantom, she struggled for a moment before managing to school her face into a neutral expression. "Bad! Meg is staying with me, Raoul and Jean are being looked after in Jean and Meg's apartment by Louis, Raoul's Valet. I believe Meg told me that it was not something even she could stomach, and Meredith certainly could not she was going to send Raoul back to the chateau, before Meg suggested Raoul stay with Jean and she stay with me." Madame Giry explained before her schooled expression went for recess and she could not keep her face straight any longer. "What on earth are you wearing?"

"A short night shirt." Erik replied, with a look that could have soured cream in the next city, as Madame Giry fought to keep her sniggers in, and Christine found grinning at the carpet was fascinating.

Erik walked over to his wife and relieved her of the jar of balm, "I think I shall go to bed and apply the balm myself!" he said sulkily before heading to the bedroom and closing the door.

ooo

Once Erik was in his room Christine and Madame Giry discreetly let their giggles out.

"I am sure they will all be back to normal in a few days." Christine said wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Do you have time for a cup of tea?" she asked.

"That sounds like a refreshing idea." Madame Giry replied as her giggles died down "I can also tell you the story of how the Ghost of the Opera Ghost has yet again terrified the managers." She added as Christine sighed and went to put the kettle on.

"I really think he enjoys torturing them as a sport!" Christine remarked as she went into the kitchen.