He couldn't breathe. Something was strangling him and someone was laughing. A biting pain assaulted his back; he couldn't see; he couldn't breathe…

Not knowing what else to do he called out, begging with his assailant. "Mais je ne veux pas mourir."

But his voice was stifled and strained. No one would have heard him.

"Erik…"

"Erik. Come on, wake up."

His eyes fluttered open and he immediately felt for his mask. It was still on his face, hiding his sinister deformity. He then felt around his neck, finding that his shirt had gone MIA.

So had his pants…

"Erik, Christ, you scared the piss out of me."

In nothing but his mask and boxers, he felt incredibly unguarded, and refused to meet her cold gaze. What would she think of him? A grown man, still immobilized by his nightmares?

"Erik. Are. You. Ok?"

He nodded his head affirmatively but doubted that she'd buy his act. Lee read people too well; she read him too well.

He heard her sigh and felt her get off the bed, moving across the room to shut a window. He didn't remember coming to her room. He didn't remember anything after they started watching Star Wars.

Blake had underestimated her. A practiced drunk for sure, but she'd restrained herself, while her friends dove head first into senselessness. Someone had to look after them, after all, and she wasn't nearly as irresponsible as she liked to make her cousins think.

But it had been a great night, at least the parts he remembered. Parties weren't exactly his thing, and hers was all inclusive. He'd never seen so many people from so many different walks of life all in the same place, attorneys, cops, bums, doctors, truck drivers, and all of them wanted her barbeque chicken, Chrissy's fried green tomatoes, and Ramon's pico di giallo.

All those people coming through her house, staring at him, ignoring him, but she'd made sure he was properly distracted, and before he knew it, Erik was playing sets with their strange little band, and her group of friends had readily become his group of friends.

"Look, I enjoy drinking games as much as the next person, but taking a shot of Tequila every time someone says The Force in Star Wars will only get you into trouble. Trust me, I know from experience."

He noticed she did that a lot, poked fun or made light of a serious situation. Her way of trying to fix something that made her uncomfortable as well.

Blake told him that she had fallen for him, that it was written all over her face.

"Look, I know how lonely it is…not to have anyone to wake you up from your nightmares, but…Erik, I'll wake you up. I promise." Her voice was barely above a whisper and she looked at him with a degree of apprehension.

He realized he still hadn't spoken to her, and contemplated her concern, wondering, for the millionth time, on the nature of her true intentions.

That wasn't something she'd just say, and she wasn't the kind of person who'd play games like that. She honestly cared about him.

"I know, Lee." Her expression lightened subtly. "What happened during and after Star Wars?"

A grin graced her presumably delicious lips. "You cried like a baby when Obie Wan died." She crawled up onto the bed and sat, Indian style, beside of him. "About halfway through you, Anderson, and the twins decided to play Twister without a Twister mat, and take a shot every time one of you fell down. I video taped that, by-the-way. You and Sam then proceeded to tell me that I was, and I quote, one hot piece of ass, after which Anderson and the twins threw up all over my porch, and you wandered into my bedroom, and opened the window."

His face had to have been a deep shade of crimson. "Did I really…"

"Cry when Obie Wan died? No, I made that up."

"Oh."

He had rather hoped she'd made up the "one hot piece of ass" part as well. Erik could think of more…romantic compliments to bestow upon her.

"Ok, it was all Sam, you just stood beside of him and nodded in agreement."

"Oh." That wasn't quite as bad.

"Let's see, it's five thirty…I bet Law and Order is on. Mind if I crash here?" She shot him a wink and smiled brightly. "Maybe I should use my sad puppy dog eyes, seems to work for Anderson's kid."

"Allie, her name is Allie." Allie, Blake's seven year old, had spent the duration of her time at Lee's soirée, clinging to his jacket. This was all because, at her request, he'd played the Blue's Clues theme song. Now she wanted him to give her piano lessons.

"Yeah, sure." Lee, apparently, didn't have much patience or know-how when it came to children, even less than he. Allie had confessed to him that she didn't want piano lessons from Lee because "that lady" looked at her funny and messed up her hair.

But Allie was just adorable. Not once did he catch her staring, nor did she ever ask about the mask. She was as easy going and likable as her father, with whom Erik was becoming fast friends.

Blake was closer to Erik in age, actually, a few years older. They formed a tight coalition against the twenty-somethings of their group, and on top of it all, Blake gave Erik valuable insights on the topic of Lee Jones.

"I guess I can vacate to the couch." He nervously put Blake's theory to the test. "Since this is your bed and all."

She shivered and pulled the covers up around her. "Both of my sofas are occupied, as is the pool table, besides, you match my comforter."

He could hardly believe what she was implying. "You…you mean you want to sleep…you want to…"

"Sleep in this bed with you, yes. If you don't mind, that is."

Actually, Blake's hypothesis, as well as that of the twins, was that if Erik were to grab her and kiss her, she'd kiss him back and moan. They even had a bet on it involving Blake's mini-van, and Erik's vette. He just didn't have the gall to go through with it.

"Do you snore?"

She shot him one of her patented don't-mess-with-me looks. "You should know."

"Hell, you're already hogging the covers."

She threw down the comforter and got out of the bed. "Fine, I'll sleep on the kitchen floor."

This was the banter he lived for. "You do match the counter tops."

"I can't believe it; chivalry really is dead. You'd actually allow me to sleep on the kitchen floor."

"This is the twenty-first century, darling."

"And I thought you were such a gentleman. Wait, no, it's more than that; a man has never turned down a chance to jump into bed with me. I must be getting fat. Of course, I've gained three pounds since I met you. I disgust myself." She dropped down to the floor and started doing crunches. "You insinuated that I was a hot piece of ass. You lied."

"Would you just get back in this bed and watch…" He looked at the TV. "The TV guide channel with me?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely…How about I get back in the bed and go to sleep?"

"Deal."

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her climb back into the bed. She turned to face him and smiled; it lit up her face and contrasted drastically to her emotionless eyes. Erik would always be entranced by those deep, Hematite orbs.

Maybe Blake was right.

Lee scooted over and silently placed her head on the nook of his shoulder. "You're warm."

"You're cold?" Erik was surprised he could speak; the feeling of her snuggled up against him was almost overwhelming.

"Not anymore."

Her hand found its way onto his bare chest, creating a burning, yearning sensation throughout his body, and he, for the first time in his life, confidently put his arms around her, enclosing her in a longing embrace.

"I never thanked you for shooting me out of that tree."

"First time in my life I ever went out looking for ghosts and actually found one. Don't thank me for that; it was more for myself than for you. And I came out on top in the long run."

It took him several moments to get that she was making a joke. "We could switch, if you'd prefer."

"No, I'm a take charge kind of gal."

"Do you still think of me as a ghost?" It was important that she view him as a man, tangible.

"Oh no, only living beings get drunk and make complete asses out of themselves. Somewhere along the line you became a man…a thirsty man with an affinity for Tequila."

He rested his chin on the top of her head and fought back silent tears. Whether or not she'd fallen for him, he'd fallen for her, fast and hard. Erik decided that he was going to enjoy it while he could.

They'd spent the past couple of days together, doing touristy things. She'd taken out to Patriot's Point, across to Fort Sumter, and had even borrowed Blake's john boat to take him fishing. Erik had never been fishing before.

He could tell by the way she was breathing that she'd fallen asleep, armed with this knowledge, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, fascinated by the peaceful feeling that had engulfed him, and mesmerized by her beauty.

Lee woke up with a stiff shoulder. Erik still had his arms wrapped around her. She knew Anderson had figured it out and said something to him, so she'd decided to up the ante.

It'd worked, but not quite as well as she had hoped. The man was just too damn insecure. He was going to have to take the next step; in the meantime, aside from a sore shoulder, she wouldn't mind waking up in his arms every morning.

Lee had thought hard on all this during her days off, days she spent with him. Once he got over himself, Erik was a lot of fun to be around. They were on the same wave length, which is why she knew her friends would bond with him quickly. She was especially pleased with how he and Anderson got along.

And then there was the physical attraction. The man was gorgeous, mask be damned; there was no denying it. If he could ever trust her…it was his insecurity that kept getting in her way. If at any point he decided that she was with him because she pitied him, then he'd resent her.

Lee had her own worries about things, insecurities, mostly in the name Christine. Mutual or not, it'd taken her a while to get over Gray, and several dates had ended poorly after their spilt, simply because she'd unfairly judged her suitors, assigning them Gray's faults when they had perfectly good faults of their own.

It was one thing to be compared to another, but to be transformed into another…no man was worth it.

She really wanted to get up and brush her teeth, but Lee wasn't as insensitive as she liked to pretend. He needed to wake up and see her there, know that she'd stayed with him.

Luckily, someone started beating on her door. "Lee, the boys want to go to Waffle House."

Beatrix was nosey, but not nearly as audacious as her brother, or Anderson. Neither of them would have knocked.

"Sounds good, B; be out in a second."

Erik stirred beside of her, releasing her from his strong grip to stretch his long arms. "What is Waffle House?" He seemed very pleased with himself.

"It's a place for alcoholics to consume substandard food."

"Why are we going?"

"Well, because we're alcoholics, and there aren't that many places to get breakfast around here, especially on the weekends because Jack's is closed. But, it's really just tradition for us, although normally, we'd be going around four in the morning." She liked how inquisitive he was about American middle class culture.

Lee got up and wandered into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth quickly and got into the shower.

Erik was lying on top of her recently made bed when she reentered the bedroom. He'd managed to find his clothes, she noted with disappointment. He had a very nice body, and she rather enjoyed seeing him shirtless.

"I have a spare tooth brush." He nodded and got off the bed, silently venturing into the bathroom.

Lee sipped her coffee carefully; it wasn't even warm. She sighed and glared at the man at the bar; Erik hadn't seemed to notice the idiot staring at him.

The man at the bar curled his upper lip in disgust. She hated disrespectful people. Lee shot him the bird.

"Let's get the hell out of here." He looked like he was going to get up and confront her.

"We just got here." Anderson was quickly figuring out the situation. "But the coffee is cold. I can't tolerate cold coffee; I told you we should have gone to the one in Mount Pleasant."

He threw a couple bills onto the table and stood up; the rest of the group followed suite. Lee brought up the rear, in order to deal with any trouble.

"Oh, I know, let's go to the beach."

Lee moaned; Beatrix always wanted to go to the beach. "How about no."

"Come on, Lee, we could play volley ball."

"You three puked all over my porch and I had to clean it up at four thirty this morning, so no, I'm really not in the mood for volley ball." Erik slid closer to her; they were sitting in the back seat of Sam's Tahoe. She waited for him to make a move.

"You're no fun anymore."

"Piss off." His fingers interlaced with hers.

Anderson cleared his throat. "Do we have a gig this week?"

"Yes, Thursday at Fish. Low key."

"Erik, you should play with us."

"Yeah, Easy E, you're like, totally the shit."

Erik didn't take his eyes off her. "Sam, at what point did you start calling me Easy E?"

"Like, three seconds ago."

"Oh." She watched him bite his lower lip in thought. "I suppose."

Lee smiled at him brightly, and he returned the expression. Perfect chemistry.