A/N Words cannot describe the totally unexpected fuzzy feeling I am now addicted to as a result of your reviews...you know who you are! This might be moving a bit slowly for some people but hey it's like this...the longer you leave the pressure cooker on the gas, the better the explosion when it blows!Mwuhahahahaha. Poor Erik. There is another A/N relevant to this chapter but so as not to spoil the suspense it is at the bottom (don't you dare ruin it for yourselves by looking.). Enjoy, your reviews are helping me write this stuff I hope you know.

Chapter 6

By the time the hackney ground to a halt on boulevard de Strasbourg the dawn had broken and Paris was waking up. Erik paid the driver giving him enough of a tip to forget them but not too much so that he would begin to remember again. He had never been here before and the sheer size of the imposing building in front of him took his breath away. The main entrance to the Gare de l'Est had an enormous fan shaped window above which was a huge statue of a woman seated on a throne holding a key in her right hand and a staff in her left. "This must be Strasbourg" he muttered to himself.

"I think you will find it is Paris" Meg shook her head at Erik's nonsense.

"I was referring to the enthroned lady above the fanlight actually." Erik pointed skyward so she could see what he was talking about. "Although I have never seen it I have read about it. She represents the city of Strasbourg as that was the first destination when the station opened 1849. The building itself is Romanesque and was designed by Francois Duquesney. The sculptor was Lemaire if you are interested." Erik sniffed knowledgably and made to join her walking towards the entrance.

In his quiet appreciation for the architecture he had remained oblivious to the other people beginning to gather outside the busy terminus. He was quite overcome by the very fact that he was standing outside the busiest train station in his city among people. His senses were inundated with the sounds of paper and flower sellers competing for custom and the smell of fresh pastries wafting from the vendors outside. Wondrously he took in the sight of men, women and children rushing and bustling about their business completely oblivious to him. He had never been so close to so many people. It was dizzying. Meg noticed him sway slightly and rushed to brace him with her hand at his elbow. "I am quite alright Meg…it is just so overwhelming."

"I know. I am finding it a little intimidating so I cannot imagine what it must be like for you. Use your cane. You can practice limping!"

They made their way through the great arched portico and were both assaulted by the magnified clamour of a hundred voices all at once, piercing whistles announcing imminent departures and the distinctive hiss and chug of steam engines rolling in and out of the grand station. Erik's eyes darted nervously about him as he noticed several people glance his direction. This is what he was afraid of; the stares and the inevitable horror in the eyes of the innocent.

Meg knew by the edgy set of his features and clenching of his fists that he wanted to run and hide in the nearest shadow.

"Erik, do try to relax. No one is staring and if they are it is likely because my dress is too tight. People are naturally curious and everyone watches everybody else when they are out and about. It is practically a pastime in Paris. There are those who spend hours sitting in cafés just watching the world go by and the people in it." Meg tried to reassure him with words since she could not exactly hold his hand like she wanted to.

Erik pondered on this and considered what she had said. Perhaps they were not really staring at him particularly; rather just being curious in general. It was something he was not used to and still not entirely comfortable with. Perhaps once they made it out of Paris it would be different. Meg was his crutch now until that happened. He could not help the small smile as he recognized that she had poked fun at herself to make him feel less uneasy about himself and this was also something he was unfamiliar with. He had never experienced what it felt like to bask in the warmth of another until she came to find him and yet another little chunk of ice slid away from his heart. In all the time he had lavished on Christine, she had been the one bathing in his attention but he realized now that she had never reciprocated. Meg had said he was in her care…it was a strange but not unpleasant feeling knowing that the little dancer was trying to make things better for him as no one ever had. That alone made her unique in his eyes.

They walked towards the ticket booths both feeling like new seeds freshly cast into the wind waiting to see where they would take root. Meg turned to Erik and laid a hand on his arm. "Let me check with the information office and find out when the next train is. If you will give me some francs I will purchase our tickets." Erik handed her a fistful of bills not having the first clue how much it would cost, frowning as he did so. "Did I not halve this with you before we left?"

Meg threw her eyes up reluctant to have this particular conversation now. At least he was concentrating on something other than himself for a change. She leaned closer to him, going on her toes to reach his ear so no one would hear her but him.

"It is in my corset." she whispered. "I will explain later but I cannot very well get it out here now can I? Wait here and do not disappear on me; I will not be long." Before he had a chance to respond, except to recover from the shiver her warm breath against his neck had sent unbidden down his spine; she was gone in a flurry of skirts, full of purpose and a confidence in her absolute right to be there amongst her peers that he feared he would never have.

Although, she had noticed it when he had helped her into the hackney earlier it was only now when it when her face was close to his that Meg allowed the sensation to finally register. It made her nose twitch and the back of her neck itchy in a feeling that she recognized from when she had been bathing. Know she knew what it was. His scent. He smelled nice she supposed; of sandalwood and something else, something not altogether safe…him probably.

With no option but to do as he was told, he sat on a nearby bench with their luggage and waited for her to return, watching the other travellers as they all went about their own business. Aside from the rushing, they all seemed so normal. It was second nature to them to be at ease amongst their fellow man. Music was second nature to him. It was still very early so the huge station had not yet reached full capacity yet seemingly hundreds of men, women and children milled around him oblivious to his face. Yes they often glanced his way but he could see now that they were doing the same to everyone else and it meant nothing.

Pulled out of his thoughts by Meg who had returned in the same bustling manner that she had left, Erik lifted his one visible eye to her face.

She was up to something, that Erik knew for certain. She was positively shaking with excitement in front of him as she clutched what he assumed to be the tickets in her gloved hands.

"Well then, where to Mademoiselle?"

Meg decided at the last moment to draw this out. She was fairly confident that she had made the right decision as there had been two trains due to leave at around the same time. She wanted to give him something she suspected he had never had; something she had always taken for granted. At birthdays or Christmas when her mother would give her a gift she would always pester her to divulge what was beneath the coloured paper. "It is a surprise," she would say and Meg always knew it would be just what she wanted and the anticipation of it would give her butterflies in her stomach. That feeling was precious.

"You will see! It is a surprise."

"Fine," Erik sighed dramatically, thinking it did not signify as her keeping it a secret was not going to alter the ultimate outcome. He would find out soon enough so he would let her have her fun. "Lead the way then since you seem to know what you are doing."

Erik was easier now with letting her take over. He did not really have the strength for figuring things out like where the platform was and timetables, being already preoccupied enough just navigating his way through the throngs heading in both directions. He was lightheaded from it, too much was happening in his head all at once and he could not wait for some quiet where he could maybe lie down and give his mind a rest.

Meg stopped dead, almost tripping Erik who was directly behind her and immediately a felling of dread overtook her at the realization that they had completely forgotten about the one thing they would need to get away from France.

"Erik you do have papers? Please tell me you have some sort of identification or else we will have a problem at the border control. How stupid of me; when would you have ever needed such a thing? You idiot Meg!"

Her mother had made sure it was the first thing she packed for her just in case she would forget herself but she had forgotten to check with Erik.

She was babbling now and working herself into a state of utter panic. "Do not fret ma petite. I may not have had use for them before but it may surprise you to know that I do in fact have papers. I will not say they are entirely official but they will serve their purpose just the same." Erik had never been so glad that he had thought to procure them months before during a time when he had begun stashing his emergency supplies in the tiny room where she had found him. There really had been no end to Antoinette's usefulness or questionable connections.

Meg's relief was palpable and immediately she was on her way again, so quickly that Erik almost lost sight of her and had to hurry to catch up.

A huge sign hanging above their heads announced that Platform 2 was imminent as they continued down the length of the vast main hall of the Gare de l'Est. Just as the whistles and hisses of steam were becoming too much to even think let alone hear; Meg spotted their destination. In front of them were the shiny black carriages emblazoned in elaborate gold lettering. Thinking quickly Meg spun on her heel before Erik had a chance to realize where they were, reaching up to cover his one visible left eye with her left hand, snaking her right around his back.

"What on earth are you doing? Meg?" He had been concentrating on the back of her head for fear that he would lose her again and so had not realized the she had turned towards him so quickly. He had dropped the bags and was trying to pry her hand away from his face while simultaneously and instinctively indulging in the feel of her other arm which had appeared at his back.

"I cannot see!" He hated this feeling of disorientation especially as he was in the middle of a crowd of people.

"Oh stop being such a grouch. I told you it was a surprise and I did not want you to see until I decided seeing as it is my surprise." She could feel him rolling his eye under her fingertips as she waited for the sulky look to disappear.

"Is not the suspense just killing you?" She knew it was as he was grinding his teeth again. Were she not so sure of him she would be very afraid he might snap her neck.

"Damn it woman! Just let me see." He would cheerfully strangle her later.

Then almost as quickly as she had placed it there, her hand was gone as his eye adjusted to the light again. He noticed absently that she still had not removed her other hand. More pressing was the sight before him. There standing at Platform 2, just where Meg said it would be was their train out of Paris. Through the clouds of steam rising up from under the platform he could clearly see the gold letters standing out from the flat black background and his heart fully stopped.

Venice-Simplon Orient Express.

Erik thought of his old home, the only one he had known, the lake and his little black and gold boat. There was only one other place he felt he may ever feel at home, a place he had read about and dreamt of many times.

"Venice." The word fell like a prayer from his lips as he turned to look at Meg unable to disguise the moisture he knew was gathering in his eyes.

Meg's face was lit up with the nervous anticipation of his response and her hands were now fisted together under her breast, having come around to face him to better watch his reaction.

"I knew it, I knew it! I just thought of your boat and the lake and masquerades and knew that was where you needed to be."

Venice. The city of bridges, canals and masks and some said the most beautiful city in the world. A dream he had not dared dwell on was about to come true for him and it was all because of her. She was, he acknowledged, brilliant. She barely knew him yet astonishingly she already understood him better than anyone.

Meg was practically jumping up and down on the spot now, clapping her hands together and drawing quite a bit of attention to herself in the process. Her excitement was utterly infectious and Erik was gripped with the sudden and incomprehensible desire to crush her to him and kiss the breath right out of her. God where was his mind going? He knew exactly where and he tried to extinguish the urge as quickly as it had gripped him. It was just that her enthusiasm was filling him with all kinds of possibilities that he never imagined would be. He never thought he would leave the Opera House, nor did he ever think of not leaving. He just never dreamed beyond his tiny corner of the Paris underground. He never allowed it because that way lay madness. With the madness of possibilities and the possibility of madness still racing around his head he became conscious of Meg attacking his shoulder, poking him with her index finger right on the bone. It made him want to swat at her like a fly that would not stop buzzing. How would he ever cope with her?

"Come on or we shall miss it which would be an unmitigated disaster. We would have to wait for the next train and you really do not want to be on that." Meg had been watching him slipping into some sort of trance for the past few moments; noticing how his mouth softened and his eyes had gone all liquid and wide. Eager for him to snap out of it and be on their way she had no option but to resort to violence. He could continue his little daydream on the train.

Startled out of his reverie, Erik picked up on the urgency in her voice and stood up, collecting their bags as he did so. "Where does the next train go to that is so objectionable?"

"Nanterre! We would not even be out of Paris!"

"Perish the thought.

Spotting a liveried porter, Meg showed him their tickets and allowed him to escort them onto the train, while he followed with their bags. Erik refused to allow anyone touch his violin so he kept that with him. Making their way through the carriage she was struck by the feeling of being completely underdressed. Her fellow travelers were quite obviously of a class well above her as was apparent by their finery of silks and feathers. Erik, despite the yards of bandage around his head managed to blend in amongst the well heeled far better than she had. He might not necessarily feel the part but he certainly looked it with his expensively tailored suit and fine wool cloak. She would never be able to travel like this as the fares were outrageous but Erik could well afford it having demanded each month almost as much as the managers had received in an entire year!

Their porter stopped at a wooden door about half way along the carriage and turned the handle affording them the first view of their quarters. Meg had reserved a cabin suite as it had a separate sleeping area; she thought it incredibly wasteful to purchase two separate cabins and would be quite happy sleeping on the banquette she knew would be in the separate lounge area. The porter deposited the bags on the luggage rack above the higher of the two bunk beds in the sleeping compartment and turned to leave.

"Madame, Monsieur…your private steward will attend to you shortly. Meals are served in the restaurant car at the front of the train or you may chose to dine privately. We will depart in about ten minutes so I shall wish you both a pleasant journey." He bowed to each of them in turn and pocketing the tip Meg handed him from her change, disappeared down the corridor.

Closing the door of the cabin Erik stared in wonder around him noticing Meg almost fell onto the banquette, immediately pulling off the boots that had been causing her a myriad of minor discomforts since she put them on. The space provided was not any larger than the small room they had hidden in for the previous nights but it had all of the luxury that the other room did not. To his right were a sleeping compartment with two bunks one above the other fully made up with fine Egyptian cotton bed linen and a tall wooden cabinet with wash basin. To his left, where Meg was currently removing various articles of annoyance from her person was a long banquette, foot stool and small table. He could sleep in there as there was plenty of linen.

"Sit down Erik for goodness sake. You are making me nervous." Meg felt the room was quite small enough without Erik remaining standing thereby reducing it to the size of a matchbox.

He removed his cloak with a flourish, picked his gloves from his hands one finger at a time and laid the entire on the lower of the two bunks. "What was your mother's name before she was married? I only ask because when the steward arrives he will likely ask our names and while no one knows or will recognize mine, yours is another matter." He wanted to ensure that any and all of their tracks were covered as far as possible.

"I had not thought of that. It was Richemont. Do you want me to change my first name too or may I still be Meg?"

"No, you will always be Meg but you could use Marguerite I suppose as it is more formal."

"Why do you not call me that since you are so incredibly formal?" Meg questioned frostily.

"You introduced yourself to me as Meg but I will call you Marguerite if you wish it." He had no idea where this was going but he suspected she was becoming irritable from lack of sleep just as he was.

"No I do not wish it but thank you for asking. As you say I will always be Meg." She had felt like starting an argument with him again but realized it was not his fault that her feet hurt and she was so tired. They would not reach Venice until sometime the following afternoon so she had better find another outlet for her frustration or they would kill each other.

Erik came and sat next to her on the banquette; both of them watching the last minute hustle and bustle on the platform outside. He thought of the past days, the havoc he had wreaked, the damage he had caused and the lives ruined because of it not least the young woman beside him. She had come searching for him, had heard his cries of pain and had reached out to help him. His life as he knew it had been ripped at the seams and his heart and soul with it. She appeared to want to help him put it back together again. Meg was so very different from Christine. He was beginning to know how her mind worked although it was an effort to keep up with it. He knew she was kind because she had showed him kindness, he knew she was brave because she was still here with him. He knew she had a good heart because she saw past what he had been and done. She was also immune to his scheming and intrigue in a way that her friend had not been as she had seen through the façade of the Phantom to the man beneath. Still he suspected he had not entirely lost his touch as evidenced by her total submission in her mother's bedroom. He knew what happened bothered her immensely as she hated not being in control and that she was convinced he had put her under some sort of hypnotic spell. If she only knew it had been her that had cast the spell…to the point where the perfume of that rose oil even now suspended in the air of their tiny cabin was devastating his senses. Would that memory forever haunt him?

With a jolt Meg realized they were moving, having missed the muffled sound of the whistle outside for the past minute or so, and oblivious to all but the scent of the man beside her. Erik turned slightly where he sat and reached across for her tiny hand enveloping it in both of his. She looked down at her lap to where his two hands enclosed hers. They were strong hands, musicians' hands that could coax or kill. They held hers firmly yet with a gentleness that betrayed the heart of the lonely soul beside her. She dared to look up and was again trapped in the floodlights of his one good eye.

"Meg, I will be forever in your debt and for what you have done for me I will defend you to my dying breath. Thank you." She tried to swallow the painful lump in her throat and tried in vain to stop the tears spilling over her eyelids and chasing traitorously down her cheeks. He was too much. She could not speak to reply so she just nodded her head. He seemed to understand and was happy to continue the silence, squeezing her hand in his as they were pulled slowly out of Paris.

A/N So I have used total artistic licence with the train journey (Eriks architecture nerdiness stuff is true, yay for google) but for any of you that check stuff like this, the first Orient Express journey was not until about 1883 (Paris-Vienna)I think and the Simplon tunnel (which joins Switzerland and Italy) was not opened until 1906. It suits me to pretend otherwise and the timeline is not so far away so hope you will forgive! Shame on you if you read this before the chapter.