AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Bea: Seems you handled your wits well enough. lol No, there is no icky hidden meaning in Raoul lazing around on the bed. pukes at the mere thought of E/R slash You'll have to wait a bit about that "certain place", but your curiosity will hopefully be satisfied in the chapter after this. And I don't mind whether you mess up my own quotes – after all, since they're my own, I'll recognize them easily enough. ;-)

The Musician of the Night: Wow, someone who is actually pleased with Raoul's sudden appearance:) A big "lol" for your random images! And we'll see who drinks and who doesn't…

TheQueenSarah: You know, you just made my day with that loverlay review. ) Sorry about making you like Raoul and messing up your world in general. g You know, my best buddy and I actually founded the League of Raoul-Haters after seeing the movie for the first time, but by now… I'm afraid I'm growing fond of him. lol What you're stating about the change in his personality is exactly what I wanted people to notice, so I'm glad to get that feedback. And I'm glad you don't mind my squeezing in the occasional punch line. ;) And you impressed me with actually digging out that passage! Of course I had that in mind when wrote it, that and another one earlier on (Book 4 Chapter 2, to be exact). I won't say anything about the God thing yet, just wait and see. :) Yes, trying to get into people's head is the most important thing in my opinion. I always do it that way, and by now I can switch around pretty well. Let's call it practice. g No, I don't think the end will exactly kill you, it won't be that bad… but we said no spoilers, right? ;P

Ashley: No, no Aeternus yet. But you won't have to wait long… ;) Ah, a defender of the ponytail already? lol I can assure you, nothing will happen to it for now. ;-)

IV. Every waking Moment

Those were evil times, Madame Giry decided as she cleared away the dishes after dinner. Five at a small table, they had been rather crammed, but the young Vicomte de Chagny had needed to be fed, along with her girls, and she had never yet turned away a hungry Phantom. Well, he provided her with part of what she needed, to be exact, so he had every right to be fed at her table, but she would probably have fed him as well if he had been of no help to her at all. Just for old times' sake.

How well she remembered the boy he had once been, her mischievous little Erik. Times had changed, and he had changed as well, and very much so, but still her door was always open for him, whatever he had done in the meantime. When she had still been a girl, he had been like a younger brother to her, and her feelings had not changed much since, though she often thought of those times with regrets, of those days when he had not yet been so dark and brooding. When there had been no blood yet on his hands.

He had killed early already, she knew it now, but still, there had been a certain innocence about him then, compared to later on. Back in those days, he had not killed for satisfaction.

Whether this held true, she was not sure, though. It was just a suspicion she harboured. After all, she knew his cruelty and his lack of compassion for others, and that he valued a life for nothing. In the anarchy reigning on the streets at night, he hunted the Communards mercilessly.

And yet she was glad he did, for she felt that he kept her safe, her and her family.

Her family. Ever since her husband had died, shortly before Meg's birth, the girl had been all she had. And when later on Christine had come to live at the Opera House after she had lost her father, Madame Giry had included her in her motherly affection. Those two girls were what was most important to her in the world.

Yes, and her little Erik. He had practically been part of the family, too.

She was not sure about grown-up Erik, though. Often enough, he made her uneasy at the very least. In his wrath a snarling, bright-eyed demon, he could become a purring kitten very suddenly, though he rather reminded her of a predator cub when he did. And his eyes, though they still showed a mischievous sparkle at times, never truly became a cub's. They always were a grown predator's stalking his prey.

And there were those times when he would eye her with unconcealed longing, circling her with a greedy gaze, and his low, gentle purrs, more like growls, brought a sensation back to her she had not experienced since before she had lost her husband. It was a highly unusual way of being courted, yet she might even have enjoyed it a little, maybe, if she had not found out soon enough that he tried just the same with her own daughter.

The beast.

Replacing the teapot on its usual place on the shelf, Meg then wiped her hands on her apron before she discarded it. As she met her mother's gaze, she smiled. "They are so sweet together, don't you think?"

"Who?" Madame Giry asked absent-mindedly, automatically checking if Meg had put everything in the correct place.

"Raoul and Erik."

Madame Giry frowned. "I rather think Erik is a little nasty with the poor vicomte."

"But it's obvious he doesn't mean it," Meg insisted. "He'd never admit it, but he likes him."

"Of course he does." Meg was completely right, it was obvious. "He is just being foolish because he is jealous."

"Poor dear," Meg said sympathetically. "He loves Christine so much."

Madame Giry nodded wordlessly. Indeed she pitied him for his unhappy love. And she pitied Christine, for whom it must be so hard, being loved passionately by two men and having to reject one of them, breaking his heart. Madame Giry knew that it hurt her to hurt the Phantom, and the girl showed him affection whenever she could, kind-hearted as she was, yet she could never give him what he wished for.

"You know," Meg began, "if I could just get Erik to take me out –"

"Meg," Madame Giry interjected warningly. That her daughter was rather taken with the Phantom was obvious enough, and she watched with suspicion when Meg climbed his lap to tousle his hair and call him all kinds of funny nicknames. The only reason that she let her daughter sleep down in the cellars was that she would not like the idea of Christine being alone with the Phantom at night, and Christine was there because as the bride of the son of a hunted man like Vincent de Chagny, she might well be in grave danger. With both girls there, the Phantom would not do anything he shouldn't.

At least she hoped so.

And besides, she wouldn't put anything past those Communards, and if they broke into the girls' dormitories at night, her two would always be safe.

"Oh, come on," Meg complained. "Why can't I have a bit of fun? Besides, I saw you snuggling him yesterday."

Madame Giry threw her a stern look. "Sometimes he needs to feel loved," she said curtly, and in a tone that indicated that there would be no further discussion of this topic, and serious trouble if her daughter brought it up again.

Mumbling something to herself, Meg let her lips form a little pout.

Madame Giry did not mind her. Meg usually pouted when she was told off, especially if her mother told her that she could not just roll around on the floor with the Phantom or similar. Heavens above, who could tell what they might be doing if not for Madame Giry's occasional intervening? Not that Meg was an indecent girl, but she seemed to think that there were other rules for things she did with the Phantom. Like allowing him to be in her room when she was in her underwear, reasoning that she had seen him in his underwear just as well, which was an improper thing in itself, or snuggling him in a dark corridor, or kissing him on the rooftop endlessly…

"The difference is," she pointed out, "that Erik is like a younger brother to me." Most of the time, at least. "Whereas for you –"

"He's my friend!" Meg interrupted, indignantly. "And I see a brother in him, too. It's not as if we were lovers or something. There's nothing wrong with cuddling him."

Madame Giry sighed. "I only get the feeling that he might become your lover if I don't keep my eyes open."

"We're doing nothing wrong!"

"If you do, I'll box your ears something dreadfully," Madame Giry stated dryly. "Both your ears."

"I really can't see what you're always worrying about."

"I hope there is no reason." She threw the girl a strict look which said clearly enough that woe betide her if there was. Her and the Phantom, of course.

Yet still, she was glad that those two were so attached to each other, because this way she could be certain that the Phantom was there to protect her little Meg every waking moment of his life. And somebody he took such good care of would not be harmed. In times like these, knowing this was a blessing.

In times like these, her Erik's mere existence was a blessing.

She only hoped that there would be no need for him to prove how well he watched over them unceasingly, how well he protected them all.