Lady Taevyn: I'm sorry you're not pleased with the return of Veleno. I also regret that you think Erik is being a jerk. (Yeah, he is, I know. But…it's Erik…he gets that way sometimes.)

Lethia: We had the whole twin discussion, it's all good now…I think…And just remember, it's the dumbass medical people's fault.

Shariena: I'm glad you like the idea that it's a boy and a girl. Also, I didn't really intend for Tulia to come off like a house elf. I just tried to make her a mousy as possible, and the house elf thing is just an added bonus.

MJ MOD: Yes, Erik is very happy that there are no neighbors, lol. Lenore does act childish sometimes, but it's not really an effect of her pregnancy. She's a Gemini. Gemini tend to be very random and switch personalities in the blink of an eye. It's merely her personality coming out some more. (Do remember that Erik told her not to wear masks for him.) And if Uriel won't come save me, Michael is an acceptable replacement. I would prefer Raphael, but Michael will do if worst comes to worst.

Artzee: Scan the pictures and send them to me. I'm sure I've drawn just as badly back in my day. And as for Erik's reaction to Barney and Dora and the like…well, Lenore isn't going to buy junk like that. We're very anti-Barney (that involves an embarrassing incident I won't even go into) and anti-Dora. Boo on the Spanish learning! Learn different languages, like German. Or something really challenging like Japanese. Blue's Clues used to be okay…but now the clues sing and it's getting absolutely ridiculous. Though I love Periwinkle! Periwinkle's sooo cute. I should get a job on Blue's Clues as Periwinkle's "friend". (aka, owner)

Adusiriel: It's not bad to start liking Satan at all. Satan rather enjoys the attention.

Black Hole Phoenix: I know you didn't review yet. But chapter 43 has been up for a week! A week!! And I felt everyone rather deserved another chapter before I'm home for break. So you'll just have to deal with it I suppose. I mean, I postponed putting up this chapter trying to give you time to read and review.

Sabriel: I'm very pleased that you like the demon aminal servant thing. Very good. I rather enjoy it myself. Oh the possibilities that lie before me…

Jadesy: It's okay, I understand that people don't always have time to read and review. And I understand how you want to hit Erik for being overprotective, and want to hug him for being overprotective at the same time. It's like "How annoying!" and "How sweet!" at the same time.

BrackCatOden: Um, you'll have to ask Satan if you want any house demons…I'm hoping he'll give me some for Christmas, but that's looking iffy. And yeah, Hiroshi and Satan were nice to have those things made, they're not so bad as we all thought.

Der Drache Dame: Lol, oh the circumstances through which you found me. It's a small world after all, and all that jazz. (I shall give Lady Taevyn a bone-crushing hug when I next see her.) I'm glad that you like my story so much. I enjoy talking to you over instant messenger, and I'll mention the wonderful thing you're doing for me at the end of the chapter.

I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place about twenty years into the present, blah blah blah, REVIEW…

"Oh, look, they're bonding," Lenore cooed happily as she stared at the screen during her ultrasound. Thomas was clutching Sonata closely, and it seemed as if he was trying to hide his sister from their view.

"She's not pushing him away; that's a good sign," the gynecologist, Dr. Durand, noted. "Some twins don't get along at all in utero, and then they tend to take extreme aversion to each other after birth. On the other hand, if they're very close in utero, then they seem to adore each other after birth."

Lenore was on six months along now, so she was seeing Dr. Durand every other week. At Erik's insistence. Dr. Durand had mentioned it wasn't really necessary to see Lenore that often till about seven or eight months, and the poor woman had suffered a rather scathing, condescending lecture about serving her patients in the manner they wish to be served, not based upon her preference. And when the doctor had attempted to have Lenore back up her side of the argument, Lenore simply shrugged and informed the woman that it was Erik's money. If he wanted to waste it on unnecessary appointments, so be it.

Before leaving the gynecologist's office, Dr. Durand ran over the symptoms of labor. She'd been familiarizing Lenore with them for the past month, another thing Erik had insisted on. Lenore didn't really care about that; the more they went over it, the more likely it was she would recognize the signs should she go into labor prematurely. Which, due to the twins, was extremely likely.

When Dr. Durand tried to review Braxton Hicks, Lenore spouted out everything the doctor had told them concerning this. Lenore had heard it three times already, and Erik had memorized it the first time. If she even expressed the tiniest pain that might be related to Braxton Hicks, she had to try shifting positions. If that did not alleviate the pain, she had to immediately get herself into a warm bath.

I pity these children…their father's going to kill them with his obsessive need to protect.

"Ugh," Lenore muttered when she felt the muggy July heat as they stepped out of the building.

"What did you say?" Erik inquired worriedly. "Is something wrong? Are you having a contraction?"

"No," Lenore sighed. "I just feel like a beached whale, that's all. I'm huge and the sun beats upon me relentlessly, and it's difficult to breathe. Surely that's how a beached whale must feel."

"I'll call the doctor before you next appointment and have her come to the house from now on," Erik promised Lenore.

"Don't. Women have been having babies since the beginning of time, Erik. I'm sure many, many, many women felt this way when pregnant in the summer, and they all survived it. I'll manage," Lenore tried to assure him.

"But"-

"You were born in August. You're mother had to be bigger than I am now, and she lived through it," Lenore snapped. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm weaker than your mother?"

"She wasn't having twins…" Erik murmured, clearly having no solid way to combat her accusation.

"Why don't we have a car?" Lenore inquired as Erik prepared to hail a taxi.

"I don't drive," Erik pointed out.

"But I do. Well, I'd have to get my license here in France I guess, but I have the knowledge to drive a car anyway. And it's not like we can't afford it. It'd be nice to have a car. We wouldn't need to pay a taxi to drive us all over creation anymore."

"Chérie, where am I employed?"

"The Opera House, but"-

"Then you know why we don't have a car," Erik interrupted her.

"Just because it's next to impossible to find a place to park the car in Paris is no reason not to have one," she countered.

"I see little point in spending all that money for something that will only see occasional use," Erik sighed.

"I see a huge point!" Lenore snapped. (They'd had this argument once before, and Lenore had let him win that battle. When all was said and done, she was determined to win the war.) "I don't want to have to wait for a taxi to get to our house when I'm in labor and want to be in the hospital with drugs to help alleviate pain."

"Let me remind you that I'm incapable of driving. And I seriously doubt you'll be in any condition to drive if you're in labor," he replied.

"Like you can't learn to drive in the next few months," Lenore grumbled.

"Labor takes hours, ma petite; waiting for a cab won't kill you," Erik said, his tone implying that the 'discussion' was over.

"You know, I might just manage to wiggle my way through your barrier and slip into your mind just to share the pain of childbirth," Lenore mumbled. "Then you'll wish we had a car to get me to the hospital for drugs without having to wait."

"Quite vindictive, aren't you?" Erik remarked casually.

"Can't we get a car?" Lenore whined.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said no."

"Why did you say no?"

"Because I don't want one."

"Why don't you want one?"

"Because I don't."

"That's not good enough. Give me a better answer."

"I don't want a car because it gives you unlimited freedom," Erik replied after a moment.

"You have five seconds to explain that before I lose control of my temper," Lenore hissed.

"You're a shameless flirt, Lenore, whether you'll admit it or not," Erik informed her coldly. "If you need examples, look at that little kissing game you played with Hiroshi. Or there's always that little – I suppose 'fling' is the word – that you had with that damn archangel. Both of which occurred when you were engaged. Engaged, woman! You knew you were to be married and yet you flirted with those men. And certainly didn't display any remorse over either incident. You are a typical Gemini, and I'll not have you out flirting with other men. Having a car would be akin to asking you to go out and have affairs."

Lenore was itching to slap him, but if she knocked off that flesh-tone mask in public, she had no doubt she'd be dead before Erik could manage to restrain himself. "Maybe I am a typical Gemini," she growled softly. "But you're a typical Leo, full of pride and unable to stand the thought that you might not be the center of my world. You think I belong entirely to you. Marriage is not an ownership, it is a partnership! And if you want to raise these children with me, then you'd best come to terms with that. Because if you can't, the only road we're headed down is the one that leads to divorce. I'll raise and support these children on my own before I let them see their mother being treated as their father's trophy!"

Erik looked about to erupt. Lenore could practically see steam coming out of his ears. But he'd asked for it. After a few minutes of glaring at her, Erik returned his attentions to procuring a cab. Of course, in his current agitated state, any cab driver would have to be insane to stop. She suspected the only reason one taxi finally pulled up to the curb was because of her presence. Having twins, she looked much further along than she truly was and it seemed the older gentleman driving the cab took pity on her condition.

Lenore opened the door and slid into the back seat (a process that took more time than usual because of the size of her stomach) while Erik stood next to the driver's window, informing the man of their destination and such. Or at least, that's what she thought he was doing. She was shocked when Erik closed the door without getting in and handed the man enough Euros to get her home. The driver took off before she could open the door and tell Erik to get in the cab. I'm going to have a few words with you when you get home, you jackass.

Ember quirked an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting any guests today, least of all you," she remarked from the doorway leading into the entrance hall. Erik was standing in the parlour of the O'Malley household. His stance and the atmosphere around him suggested a fierce anger that he was just barely managing to contain. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Thank you, Madam. That would be delightful," Erik replied. It was a very proper and polite response, but it was delivered in a tone that made her shiver. Her first assessment of Erik's mood was incorrect; fierce anger didn't even begin to describe it.

"I think you need a Jolly Rancher," Ember commented. "Wait here, I'll be back in a minute." She walked to the kitchen as quickly as possible without actually running. She mixed up the drinks, hurrying through that as well. She wasn't eager to go back to him; Ember had the feeling that his temper had him on the verge of committing murder at the moment. But then again, she didn't want to keep him waiting lest he decide to kill her for taking so long.

Ember found him standing exactly where she had left him, still staring out of the window with an unreadable expression on his face. Erik didn't even register that she'd returned until she shoved his Jolly Rancher into his hand.

"Maybe you'd like to have a seat?" Ember suggested, gesturing to the nearest sofa as she sipped her own beverage.

Erik said nothing. He simply walked over and dropped down onto the furniture with an exasperated sigh. Ember settled herself next to him, wondering how often she would find herself as the councilor for her sister's marriage.

"It's muggy out today," she said conversationally. Erik had to be the one to bring up the subject of what was bothering him; he wouldn't appreciate it if he thought she was trying to pry into things. The only response to her statement was silence, and she suspected he wasn't really listening to her. "The sky is green and the grass is blue." Silence echoed in the parlour.

"Am I arrogant, Madam?" he finally inquired.

"Honestly? You're almost overbearingly arrogant," Ember replied. She wasn't going to lie to spare his feelings, and she had a feeling an honest answer would help solve whatever problem he'd come here with.

Erik sighed and took a gulp of his drink. "Do I give off the impression of viewing my wife as property?" came his next question.

"Yeah," Ember said. "But it's not really your fault. For at least the first one hundred years of your life, that's what a woman was. That's how society saw women. And it's not exactly easy to just disregard the societal views imprinted since birth."

Erik downed the rest of his drink in one quick gulp. "I worry," Erik sighed. "I worry about her flirtatious nature. I fear that…I'll wake one morning to find her gone. No note, no explanation, just gone."

"And you thought that once you got married, you wouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing. Divorce wasn't a big thing in your day, but now it happens a lot," Ember said sympathetically. "As for her flirting…you've got to understand something about Lenore. Our father was hardly ever home, so she never really established a relationship with Dad at all. And Mom was always telling me and Lenore that we were accidents, complaining about how we weren't as wonderful as Mark and Jon. Growing up, we pretty much only had each other. Which isn't all that good, especially when we were both teenagers and always at each other's throats because of hormones. So I guess Lenore's spent a lot of her life feeling like no one loves her at all, which leads her to look for love anywhere she thinks she can get it."

"But she knows I love her. Why isn't that enough for her?" Erik snarled.

"Well, she's trying to make up for a lifetime of not feeling wanted. But the most likely reason she flirts is because you're so possessive. She's afraid that you'll manage to keep her locked away from the world, and that once you know you have her for good, you'll stop wanting her," Ember explained. "She worries you'll find someone else, and she'll be left unloved and unwanted again. Lenore is so afraid of rejection, Erik. Now that she knows for sure about what happens to someone after death, her biggest fear is rejection."

"How could she think I would ever stop loving her?" he whispered.

"It's purely psychological, Erik. But you don't like psychiatrists, so you'll have to figure out how to break her out of that. One thing I recommend is letting her have some freedom. Think of her like a mouse. She's small, and easily frightened. But if you provoke her, or attack her, she'll turn and nail you. She knows how to defend herself, and to run away if she comes across an adversary she can't handle. You're like a boa constrictor; you're afraid she'll run away, so you wrap her in your coils, tightening your grip ever so slowly. But she sees this, and squirms and nips at you because she's afraid of being hurt. If you want her to stay, you've gotta loosen your coils and show her there's nothing to be afraid of. Show her there's no need to fear by letting her know you're not going to go ballistic if she goes off for a bit, and that'll you always be right there waiting when she comes back."

"What if she doesn't come back? What if she leaves like Christine did?"

"Then I'd have to say that you held on too tightly," Ember shrugged. "That might not be what you want to hear, but it would be the only reason. And I doubt that she wouldn't come back. Think about it! She came back after dying and being reborn. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"I can't help but worry"- Erik started to say.

"I know. Christine fucked you over Erik, there's no doubt about that. But you can't expect that, just because Christine left you, everyone else in your life will run off as well. You and Lenore need to trust each other. And the best way to get Lenore to trust you is to show her that you trust her. Let her know that you trust her to be loyal and always with you, and she'll start to learn to trust that you won't hurt her," Ember advised.

They sat in silence for a good half hour, Erik contemplating what Ember had said and Ember hoping her words had gotten through.

"Thank you, Madam," Erik finally said, standing and handing her his empty glass. "I'll do what I can."

"Can't ask for more than that," Ember replied, standing as well. "And if you have any more problems, I've got more Jolly Ranchers. Drop by any time, day or night."

Lenore sat in the parlour, Bishop curled up on her lap and flicking his tail in consternation. He seemed puzzled over the fact that she had returned home alone and had not immediately retired to the master bedroom as was the norm. Tulia was curled up in a corner of the room, sobbing softly about having failed and how she was to be punished. One of the twins kicked under Lenore's ribs with surprising strength, probably picking up on her bad mood.

She had been waiting for two and a half hours when the House Manager, Gordon, led Erik into the parlour. Crossing her arms over her chest, Lenore fixed Erik with a deadly glare and waited for the inevitable shouts that she should be in bed resting, how dare she be sitting up, and so on.

Surprisingly, Erik sat down next to her on the sofa and handed her a stack of information on cars from every dealer within a fifty mile radius. "If you want a car, I suppose it will be…acceptable," he said, not looking at her.

"You're in big trouble," Lenore informed him, trying not to let her shock and delight make her forget how angry she was with him. "Putting me in a cab like that and sending me off! What were you thinking? What if the driver was some sort of pervert or psycho murderer? You can never know what will happen to a girl alone in a cab! So, where did you go? Did you get drunk?"

"I sent you home ahead of me because I had some errands to run," Erik replied. "The driver looked reliable. Had he proved otherwise, I would've hunted him down and made him pay for the wrong he had committed. I visited your sister before gathering those brochures for you. While at your sister's house, I had one drink. So, no, I didn't get drunk."

Lenore was about to scold him for visiting her sister without her when she realized he had probably wanted to ask Ember for some advice on how to handle Lenore and their relationship. If that's what he saw her for, then I really ought to forgive him for sending me home alone. At least he's trying.

"Are you going to learn how to drive?" Lenore asked conversationally, paging through one of the brochures.

"Perhaps," Erik shrugged.

"I think you should. You never know when the occasion might call for you to have the ability to drive," Lenore pointed out. "What if something happened to me and I needed to be taken to the hospital? Like if I fell down the stairs and cracked open my head or something?"

Erik sighed. "If it's important to you, I'll learn," he said after a moment.

Erik put the car in park and waited for the instructor's assessment. He'd wasted a month waiting for the written test, which he had passed with flying colors. (Erik had to do quite of bit of mind altering to even apply to take the tests and lessons.) This had been his first lesson during which he was actually driving the car.

"Have you ever gone for your license before?" the instructor asked, looking at her clipboard in consternation.

"No," Erik answered.

"Well…um…you…did perfectly on that run," she said, still scanning her clipboard in the attempt to find something done wrong.

"Really?" Erik inquired, doing a spectacular job of acting shocked by this information.

"Absolutely, I'm not kidding," the woman replied. "I think you could take and pass the test today."

Naturally Erik could. He had linked with Lenore's mind last night and viewed her knowledge of driving. His mind, in a sense, made a copy of that knowledge, so that Erik had possessed the knowledge of how to drive in general when he came in for his lesson. And when he'd met the instructor, he'd slipped into her mind and picked up all the differences of driving in America to driving in France, and copied that as well.

And so Erik ended up taking the test the very next day, passing that just as superbly as he had the written examination. Lenore had decided on the car she liked best from the brochures, and Erik decided to stop at the dealership and buy one of that model in the color she had selected.

It had been a rather difficult process, as Lenore had desperately tried to find a car for a relatively low price that she liked. Finally Erik took all the brochures from her, going through them and inking out the prices so she'd make her decision based on what she truly wanted rather than a car that would be inexpensive.

The man at the dealership who sold the car to Erik almost passed out when Erik handed him the exact amount of Euros for the car, which was worth about one hundred and fifty thousand American dollars. Erik had no qualms over spending that much money, as he could easily earn that much in three months, not to mention that he still had quite a large amount stashed away at home.

He drove the car home, knowing Lenore would be pleased to have a car and a husband that was licensed to drive it.

"Gordon, where's Lenore?" Erik inquired the moment he set foot in the house. Gordon always seemed to know when Erik was coming home and was therefore always waiting at the door.

"She's upstairs, in the bath," Gordon replied. "Another bout of Braxton Hicks, she said."

Erik bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time, then dashed to the master bedroom. Tulia squeaked in surprise at his sudden appearance when he dashed past her into the bathroom. "Chérie, I have a surprise for you," Erik informed Lenore, who was sitting in a steaming bathtub with her eyes closed and looking as miserable as she could manage.

"Did you pass?" she inquired, sounding exhausted.

"Yes," Erik sighed. "As soon as you're out of the tub, I have something I wish to show you." He knew from her tone she had just gotten in the bath and she wasn't going to rush, so he would be waiting a good half hour to show her the car. He wouldn't want her to rush anyway, but it was still somewhat disappointing that he would have to wait so long. And she might be able to guess what his surprise was in that amount of time.

"How much did it cost?" Lenore demanded when she saw the car.

"A reasonable price for the quality," Erik replied evasively. "You do like it, don't you ma petite?"

"Well, it's a very pretty color…and I like the make and model. But how much did it cost?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she responded. "How much?"

"Only about a hundredfiftythousand," Erik said, squishing the price into one word.

"A hundred and fifty thousand? Do you have any idea what insurance on this sucker's gonna be like?" Lenore gasped.

"It's not an issue, ma chouchoute," he assured.

"It will be if those new managers try to develop a backbone," Lenore snapped. Ember was retiring from her managerial position at the Opera House this year, and Rosalyn was staying on as senior manager for a year to make sure the new managers had the run of things down before turning over the business to them.

"I'll make certain they're aware of my presence next week," Erik responded. The new managers would be starting next week, and Erik intended to pay them frequent visits. "They won't dream of rebellion after a little…display of my talents."

"There will be no death involved," Lenore said sternly.

"Accidents happen…"

" 'Mommy, what does Daddy do at the Opera House?' 'Daddy causes accidents that kill people, Sonata.' 'Why?' I am not having that conversation with our children. No deaths, accidental or otherwise," Lenore snapped.

"I can't prevent suicides, keep that in mind," Erik replied.

Rosalyn studied the two men sitting before her, both in their late twenties. Justin Evans and William Steele, two cousins who were interested in the fine arts. Their relation was very clear, and the two young men could have passed as brothers. They shared the same chestnut brown hair, the same shocking green eyes, and the same slightly large nose. These boys have their work cut out for them.

"I think it best if we go over a few sections of the contract you signed, just to make sure you're clear on a few things," Rosalyn suggested, unlocking the bottom drawer of her desk and retrieving said contract.

"I believe we're both quite clear on the terms, Madam," Justin said with a subtle English accent.

"It really isn't necessary to go over it," William agreed. He seemed to share his cousin's accent.

"I'm your senior manager, and an old woman to boot. Humor me," Rosalyn replied, slapping the contract down on her desktop.

The boys gave each other an identical look that implied Rosalyn should've retired years ago for her own mental health, but that they had best let her have her way for the time being.

Rosalyn shook her head at the foolishness of these two men, paging through the contract until she came to the page she was looking for. "Clause Ninety Eight, Section Five. One of my favorites. Pain in the ass for years, but worth every penny, gentlemen," she informed them, sliding the contract over to them.

"Madam, this wasn't on the contract when we signed it," Justin said, a dark look crossing his face.

"Of course it was," Rosalyn lied. "It's a rather large document, you probably just overlooked that condition."

The condition in question detailed the Opera Ghost's salary, including the amount he expected, when he expected to receive it, etc. Just wait till I show them the added part about Erik's reservation of Box 5.

"Don't be daft, Justin, it's a joke," William ascertained with a chuckle. "Paris Opera House, Opera Ghost…a clever little joke on Madam Johannson's part.

"Oh, that's right," Rosalyn said dryly. "A little joke on my part. It was absolutely hilarious when I forked over that much money every month for the past twenty some years."

The boys shared another one of those 'the woman is insane' looks.

"Moving on," Rosalyn mumbled, snatching the contract back and paging through it again. "Here it is." She returned the contract to them yet again.

"We can't sell Box 5? Absurd," William commented.

"Surely this is just a prank of some sort, Madam," Justin practically begged.

"Let me put it as clearly as I can, gentlemen. As long as I'm senior manager, that salary will be paid, and Box 5 reserved. When I retire, and you take over, you can do what you like. And when someone dies because you couldn't see fit to meet these conditions outlined in a contract you signed, give me a call. I'll want to know who it is and when the funeral's being held," Rosalyn said sharply.

"If this is a joke, you're taking it too far," Justin snapped. "I, for one, will not be bullied into"-

He cut off mid sentence, the color draining from his face. William's face was paling as well.

"Who is that?" William stammered. "Who's there? Show yourself! This isn't amusing, whoever you are."

"That's the Ghost, gentlemen," Rosalyn said with a knowing little smirk. She couldn't hear a thing, but she knew Erik was whispering about their darkest secrets in their minds. "As you see, it's not a good idea to upset him. He knows everything, and he won't hesitate to make your private business public in the interests of getting what he wants."

"This is a hoax of some kind," Justin proclaimed angrily, jumping to his feet. "Where is this man hiding?"

"It's not a man, it's a Ghost," Rosalyn replied. "I've seen him, a few times over the last twenty years. As to where he hides…who's to say the dead don't linger in their favorite haunts from life?"

"A spirit wouldn't ask you for a salary," William pointed out.

"But do the dead know they're dead? As he sees it, he's still alive. After all, he can affect things in the living world," Rosalyn shrugged.

"This is ridiculous," Justin hissed. "We'll expose this prankster before you retire, Madam Johannson, and prove to you that this is no ghost."

"Good luck," she chuckled wryly. "Back to business. Another thing I believe I should mention is that he'll suggest whom you cast and what roles they are to be given. Take his advice. He has that other-worldly omniscience, and I've only ever profited from listening to his recommendations. Arrange your cast to his specifications and you'll sell out at every performance. With the exception of Box 5, that is."

"How did things go on your first day?" a blonde boy who looked barely out of his teens inquired. His iron gray eyes studied William Steele in a fashion that betrayed the cruel, shrewd mind this young man possessed.

"Everything was as you said, master," William replied, giving a quick, but respectful bow. "I reacted accordingly."

"And I assume the Ghost made no mention of me? He didn't realize you've been tampered with?" the boy probed.

"No, master, not at all," William answered.

"Very good. You are dismissed," the boy said, waving the man away. "There's much to be done, but at least things have been set in motion."

"Who the bleeding hell is that?" Lenore roared, glaring suspiciously at the authoress.

"Someone who will be important," Tammy said evasively. "Hey peoples, we have something really special going down. Der Drache Dame has taken it upon herself (with my consent and aid) to write a sort of prequel to this story. It gives a bit more detail on Ellen's story. (Remember Ellen? She's the dead body on a rope in the cellar.)"

"Why did I have to learn how to drive?" Erik grumbled.

"Because Lenore wanted you to."

"I wanted to see him get all frustrated and stuff trying to learn," Lenore mumbled, studiously avoiding Erik's eyes.

"Thank God we have an intelligent authoress," Erik said with a slight smile.

"Ooo, I got a smile," Tammy giggle, blushing. "I'm feeling rather flirtatious right now…"

"Perhaps you'd untie me then?" Hiroshi proposed.

"Um…will you promise to let me tie you back up the moment I feel uncomfortable with you being loose?" Tammy inquired.

"Naturally. Anything you wish, cupcake," Hiroshi grinned.

"I wouldn't trust that grin," Raghnall commented absently.

"Eh, why not? I'm done finals, another semester of college is behind me. I'm feeling pretty good," Tammy beamed, bouncing over to Hiroshi and releasing him. "Okay, recap of the main points I have made, and the points I meant to make that I probably forgot to. Number One: Der Drache Dame is writing prequel, I'll let you know when it's out. Number Two: Semester's over and it's time for winter break. Won't be back until January 15th (I think I come back then, maybe it's the week after…or the week before…whatever, just gonna be gone for awhile. I'll prolly be able to read your messages/reviews, so go ahead and send away. Der Drache Dame, email me with any questions for the prequel, or email me snippets of anything you write. I will make every effort to get back to you as quickly as possible. Number Three: Keep up the reviewing to those of you who review. To those of you who don't, take a moment and review! You can just type in the review book "Yay!". One word, to show your joy at having another chapter…not that difficult, really."

"You do realize that's a huge paragraph that is probably full of grammatical errors, don't you?" Hiroshi asked.

"Eh, so what? I'm not perfect. And I'm in an extremely hyper active mood," Tammy responded, taking a sip from the 24 ounce pepsi beside her.

"No more caffeine, cupcake," Hiroshi sighed. However, he dared not try to enforce those words lest Tammy decided it merited tying him up again.