So, this part took awhile to get out, for a whole lot of reasons. First, this is the first chapter that I hadn't had already typed up before posting the chapter before it. Which meant I had to finish typing the chapter. Then I had my wisdom teeth removed, and couldn't sit up for long periods of time, so I wasn't on the computer at all. And then after that, I decided to rearrange my room, and then went and bought a new (and bigger) bed. So then I had to clean things up and move things in my room so it could be delivered. And I have relatives coming in to visit for the next ten days, so I won't be on computer for two weeks (which really sucks) cuz I'll be busy doing stuff with them.

I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place in present day, blah blah blah, REVIEW…

Erik returned to see if Lenore was ready to come back with him, and took a moment to listen to their conversation.

"I'm going to kill you two," Lenore snarled viciously.

"Stop being such a baby; after all, you're gonna be twenty one tomorrow," Ember scolded.

"Are you ready to go, ma chouchoute?" Erik inquired from his position behind the mirror.

"She is more than ready," Rosalyn replied, grabbing Ember's arm.

"Come, friend, let us away. 'Tis the proper thing to do," Ember said. The two left the room, giggling profusely.

I'm not quite sure I understand women some days…

Erik entered the room and quickly scooped Lenore up into his arms, returning to the underground as fast as possible.

"I wasn't ready to go," she grumbled as he carried her through the darkness. "Why did you listen to them? Can't you tell they're up to something?"

"Whatever they are 'up to' is none of my concern," he said dismissively.

"Keep telling yourself that," she mumbled, looking extremely cross.

"Perhaps it was unwise to let you aboveground today; you seemed to be a bit distressed," Erik noted.

"I'm fine!" Lenore snapped. "Never been better." Deciding not to upset her further, Erik let the subject drop. It wasn't worth her health. "I can walk, you know."

"I highly doubt it."

"Then let me prove you wrong." She began squirming in his arms, trying to get her feet on the floor.

"Stop it," he hissed. "You'll only hurt yourself."

"Nonsense; it's not walking that'll hurt me. The muscles will atrophy and then I won't be able to walk at all. Put me down," Lenore ordered.

"As you wish," Erik said with a smile, still holding onto her. She quit wriggling to make it easier for him to release her.

"What are you waiting for, hell to freeze over?" she inquired when he had yet to turn her loose after he had agreed to.

"You failed to specify when you wished me to put you down, Mademoiselle," he pointed out.

"And logic bites me in the ass again," Lenore sighed. "Pardon my language." She yawned and rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes slowly slipping shut. He shouldn't have let her out today; it had been far too exhausting for her.

Lenore woke up, wondering exactly what time it was. It didn't really matter to her though; since Erik considered her health at risk, she was allowed to sleep and eat whenever it pleased her, within reason. It can't be much past six, I'm not hungry yet. I'll find out when Erik comes to check on me anyway.

She heard a skittering sound and looked around, finally seeing Cristoph's tail disappearing into the lair. "That rat can be damn useful sometimes," she mumbled, sitting up. Erik appeared within thirty seconds. "You didn't have to rush."

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, leisurely strolling towards the bed to prove that he was in no hurry. She shrugged evasively in response. "Are you incapable of discerning your current state of being?"

"Well, I don't know, I feel kinda…" she started to say, letting her voice drop in volume. Suddenly, her eyes snapped closed and she began falling back onto the bed. Erik's arms were wrapped around her just before she hit, and he gently eased her down the last few inches. "Gotcha," she said triumphantly, opening her eyes and wrapping her arms around Erik's neck. A spark of anger flashed in his eyes. "Sorry. But you're so worried about me, it's cute…I just couldn't resist."

"That was rather cruel," Erik commented. "You had me worried over nothing."

"Sorry," Lenore repeated.

"Would you care for dinner now?"

"Sure."

"Mademoiselle, you must release me before I can go prepare the meal," Erik pointed out.

Lenore removed her arms and let him leave. "Way to ruin the moment," she muttered once he was gone. Why I am feeling so flirtatious right now? Is it because of this scrap of cloth Ember gave me? Who knew a piece of material could control your attitude towards things?

Later that night, Lenore was silently cursing her sister's present.

"It is past nine o'clock," Erik informed her.

"I'm not tired," Lenore replied, not bothering to glance up from her book. It was Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities. Her first experience with the works of this particular author had been Great Expectations, which had excelled in boring her to death. This story was doing worse, if that was even possible. "Besides, I'm at a good part, I can't stop now."

"The story will not go on without you," he said, sitting next to her on the bed.

"But the suspense could kill me," she lied, turning a page.

"Trust me, you'll live."

"Please, just a bit longer," she insisted.

"As you wish; wake me when you decide to retire," he replied, lying down next to her in the bed. Lenore kept reading, despite her lack of interest. The longer she kept the book open, the longer she kept Erik from seeing her in the negligee that her sister had forced on her that afternoon. Lenore would've taken it off, but Cristoph and Erik seemed determined never to leave her alone. Pages slowly became longer, taking more concentration and energy than she had in her.

Erik opened his eyes a crack and watched her continue to read. He doubted she was as interested in the story as she claimed to be. Her head suddenly fell forward; then, with a jerk, she sat back up, blinking her eyes and trying to suppress a huge yawn. Sitting up, he gently pried the book from her fingers.

"No, I'm at a really good part," she protested.

"Forgive me, ma chouchoute, but I cannot agree with you. The beginning of chapter ten is rather dull," Erik replied after glancing over her current page.

"I'm not tired," Lenore lied.

"Of course not," he agreed. "However, I am. Would you be so kind as to indulge me and retire now?"

"I can't possibly sleep, unless…" she paused, searching for a suggestion, "unless you play me a lullaby."

"That would require me to get up; I'll sing you to sleep instead," he countered.

"No! No, no, it"-

"Then you are ready to retire now," Erik said, his hands on the buttons of her bodice before the words left his mouth.

"Don't you dare!" she shrieked, pathetically attempting to shove his hands away.

"Honestly, Mademoiselle, it's nothing I haven't seen before now," he hissed, continuing to undo the buttons and getting a bit impatient with her.

"Betcha three hundred and eighty five thousand francs there's something you haven't seen before," Lenore growled, still trying to thwart his fingers in their quest of removing her bodice.

"That's a rather high wager," he commented, noting there was one button left. Lenore clasped her hands over the button and glared at him. Shaking his head, Erik changed his tactics and went after her skirt. Lenore began shrieking like a banshee, wriggling desperately to get away from him. This could prove too strenuous for her, and Erik was worried that if he didn't stop soon, she would harm herself.

Erik had succeeded in ridding her of her skirt, and she rolled over onto her stomach, trying to scramble towards the edge of the bed, away from him. With the speed of a leopard, he pounced on her, trapping her beneath him. His powerful thighs clenched around her waist, ensuring she could not pull herself out from under him. His arms wrapped around her shoulders with lightning speed, colliding painfully with her breasts as he attacked the last button on her bodice.

"Let me go," Lenore demanded, squirming in his grip in the hopes of getting away. Her squirming was doing more damage than anything else; the skimpy nightgown her sister had given her was sliding up, revealing the thong her sister had forced on her.

Erik pulled the bodice off, finally managing to get her arms out of the sleeves. He began to let go of her, slowly sliding off of her, but stopped the moment his eyes came across her exposed backside. Be a gentleman, Erik, just get off of me and pretend you didn't see a thing.

Time seemed to have halted entirely. Erik neglected to move one way or the other, and Lenore couldn't bring herself to move either, lest she brush against him by accident and fuel his passion.

"You were right; that's not something I've seen before," he finally said.

"I thought we were going to bed," she whispered meekly as his hands began to slide up her sides towards her breasts. Lenore was in the worst of positions. Her mind told her to stop him, and her hormones told her to shut her mouth and let the man get on with it. Her heart had opted to sit on the fence, agreeing that perhaps the mind was right and she was not quite ready, but then again, it felt good and it couldn't really hurt anything to let him take her so therefore her hormones might be in the right instead.

"We were," he whispered, his hands kneading her breasts. She wasn't quite sure how to interpret that response. It could mean that she was right and he should let go of her. Or it could mean that they weren't going to bed anymore, not in the way she meant, at least.

"Erik," she breathed, afraid to stop him and knowing she should at the same time. He turned her over beneath him, dropping down onto her and attacking her neck with his lips. His hands managed to rid her of the skimpy nightgown, leaving her in only the thong beneath his powerful body. Erik's long musician's fingers explored her as she moaned, softly calling out the Lord's name in vain. No one had ever touched her like this before, and it had to be a sin, it felt so good. Her mind's argument was quickly losing ground to her hormones.

Erik tried to stop himself; this wasn't right, she was far too young and naive. But he wanted a woman badly. No woman had ever let him strip her of her clothes and take her to bed. After a hundred years plus without physical intimacy, he was ravenous for it.

Dear God woman, just show some sign of resistance or I won't be able to stop myself. Don't let me take you, girl. Express a fear or concern, and I will stop. But it seemed Lenore was not afraid to let him take her. She groaned when she felt his arousal, practically begging him to take this further.

Deciding she might be physically incapable of protesting, Erik slid into her mind, searching out her current thoughts. Stop…no, don't stop, this is wonderful…but I'm probably not ready…but it feels so good…what if he doesn't fit? What if I'm not big enough inside for him? Does it hurt, the first time? How do I get him to stop if I feel that I don't want to continue at any point? What if he doesn't listen if I tell him to stop? He wouldn't ignore it and rape me…I don't think…If we have sex, would he take off his mask, or leave it on? In a sense, sex is all about vulnerability and baring everything for your partner's scrutiny. But at the same time, he's so damn sexy with it on…I'm not sure how I'd prefer it, with or without the mask…

While listening to her inner monologue, Erik trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts. He should stop, she did have concerns…but she seemed eager to go all the way, keeping these concerns to herself. Taking her left breast into his mouth, he gently sucked and licked at her nipple. With a surprising show of strength, Lenore rolled on top of him, reversing their positions so that she could be in control of the pleasure. I believe I mentioned to you once that I would never allow you to be on top, ma petite. Erik rolled to his right to revert the situation to what it had been seconds prior.

During this process, the blankets caught hold of his mask, ripping it from his face as he was positioned above her once again. With inhuman speed, he pulled away from her and turned his back to her, covering his abhorrent deformity with his hand to ensure she would see nothing.

Naturally, Lenore was confused at first. He listened as the labored breathing of a girl drowning in passion faded to a deadly silence. He turned his head just enough to watch her out of the corner of his left eye. She sat up, and gently took the fragile porcelain mask into her hands.

"Can't I see?" she whispered.

"No!" Erik hissed venomously. He extended a hand for his mask, but instead of handing it over, Lenore clutched it to her bosom.

"You've seen mine, it's only fair," she argued.

"Damn bitch," he snarled, the hand waiting for his mask dropping. "You wish to see the monster, Mademoiselle? Perhaps that was your intent all along, vile temptress!"

"I'm the tempter here? Who came on to whom, Erik?" she shouted in self-righteous anger. "You started the whole thing by taking off my clothes; I fail to see how I'm at fault here."

"If you hadn't been wearing that"-

"If you'd let me take off my own clothes, you wouldn't have seen it," she interrupted.

What she said had truth, and was rather difficult to dispute. "My mask, Mademoiselle," Erik demanded, extending his hand for it once again. For a minute, neither of them moved or made a sound. The minute dragged by, seeming an eternity to Erik.

Quite suddenly, Lenore thrust the mask into his outstretched hand with a strength he had not known she possessed. He decided to get a quick glimpse of her expression, and was surprised when her eyes trapped his in her gaze. Those eyes, devoid of emotion, were full of danger. Erik began to get the feeling that if he so much as breathed in a manner that displeased her, her temper would flare beyond her capacity to control it, which would cause an explosion of sorts. Tearing his eyes away from hers, he returned his mask to its usual place.

"I wish to leave," she stated softly, her voice flat.

"Produce my salary and you may," he replied.

"Would you give me, say, forty eight hours to get it?"

"I find it hard to believe that you could come up with enough money in that amount of time, ma petite."

"I could if I took a side job as a hooker."

Erik turned and fixed her with a deadly glare. "You will do no such thing," he informed her.

"And why not?" Lenore snapped.

"I won't allow it."

"It doesn't matter what you will or will not allow. I'm an adult woman, and what I do with my body is my own damn business," she argued. "I have no doubt it's your need to control people that drove Christine away."

Lenore never saw it coming, and it took a moment for her to realize why the right side of her face stung. His slap had not been hard; it was just enough to sting for a few moments. It was also enough to get her temper in check. I should never have said that…I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't gone and lost my temper.

She looked up and saw Erik's expression. It came as a bit of a surprise when she realized the look on his face was one of remorse. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she cut him off.

"It was my fault," she admitted. Lenore knew it was true; she had no place to speak about Christine, or why she had left him. "I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have lost my temper." She turned her eyes away from him, for awkwardness hung in the air between them, and she found it slightly more comfortable if she wasn't looking at him.

"You should get some rest," Erik finally broke the silence, his voice somewhat strained. He swiped her negligee off the floor and handed it to her.

"Not really tired any more," she mumbled, quickly tugging the nightgown on. That little altercation had woken her up quite effectively, and she was rather certain sleep would not come until the early hours of the morning now.

Erik gently pushed her down onto the bed, laying next to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She needed her rest and he would see to it that she had it. He would make good on his earlier offer to sing her to sleep, whether she liked it or not.

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation.

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.

Silently the senses abandon their defenses,

helpless to resist the notes I write;

for I compose the music of the night.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.

Hearing is believing, music is deceiving,

hard as lightning, soft as candlelight.

Dare you trust the music of the night?

Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth

and the truth isn't what you want to see.

In the dark it is easy to pretend

that the truth is what it ought to be.

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.

Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind

in this darkness which you know you cannot fight;

the darkness of the music of the night.

Close your eyes, start a journey to a strange new world

leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.

Close your eyes and let music set you free.

Only then can you belong to me.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication.

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

to the power of the music that I write;

the power of the music of the night.

Thankfully, he was spared singing the last lines, for Lenore had amiably accepted his control of her mind as he slid her into a deep sleep. After a few minutes, she began to moan, mumbling incoherently. Slipping into her dreams once again, Erik could smell the smoke, and knew the usual nightmare was once again haunting her slumber.

He was faced with a dilemma that he absolutely hated. Erik could change her dream, shift it to something more pleasant. It was difficult for him to do, and he would sleep the clock around if he did alter the dream, which would leave Lenore to her own devices for a few hours tomorrow morning. There was also the fact that he would have to stay with her through the transition between her current dream and the one he concocted, and could not leave her until her subconscious shifted her back into her own dreams. And while he was with her in the fabricated dream she would have complete control over his actions, though since she wasn't aware of that, it was rather unlikely that she would try to control him.

Aside from that, there was the question of whether or not she would want him to interfere, as she had told him never to enter her dreams again. Wondering if he had lost his sanity, he slowly began tinkering with her subconscious mind, taking great pains to make sure she shifted naturally into the dream he created.