A/n Hi everyone :) I'm loving all your reviews, it keeps me motivated to work on this story. And as you know I'm addicted to reviews. Anyways. My chapters may take a bit longer to post because my younger brothers are visiting for a few weeks and my computer time will be cut a awful lot. But don't worry. Updates should be ever 7-10 days.

opera777 – Gah thank you soooo much. You're review made me feel so much better about the last chapter. Hmm I think the word your looking for is Ironic? Hehe I'm not sure but I do know just what you mean.

Twinkle22 – here is some information about horehound - Uses include remedy for coughing/bronchitis, colds, flu; expectorant; revitalizing tonic. And then there is the spiritual uses.- sacred to Horus; protective; helps clarity during ritual; stimulates creativity/inspiration; balances personal energies.

-hugs all my reviewers-

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO

Erik hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. Horehound. How could he forget something so basic? Easy, because he didn't have any in his supplies at the moment. Lilly, the cook had some, she used it for cooking. Erik thought perhaps there would be some in the kitchen somewhere. All he had to do was find it. He rummaged though the cabinets and looked at every meticulously labeled tin. But he couldn't find the simple herb. Erik was sure that the cook would have some in her cottage. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get it without risking everyone.

Erik headed to the back door of the kitchen and opened it. He would just have to call someone to fetch the herb for him. Daroga wouldn't be up at this hour. He had night watch last night and he would have just gone to bed a few hours ago. Leaving Erik with a slight few he trusted enough. Christine seemed well enough at the moment, so there was no need for him to hurry. But the disciplined side of him wanted things done right this very moment. So he called on the first person his eyes fell on.

"Gabrielle!"

…. . .

Gabriella froze like a dear who spotted a hunter. Her large aqua eyes took on a look of fear as she heard her master call her. She did a quick assessment of herself. She was in a green summer dress, despite the autumn chill in the air, but it was her day off anyways so she didn't have to wear her drab grey wool uniform. Gabriella had a bunch of dried wildflowers in a fold she created from the front of her dress. She would crush the flowers to get at the seeds, hopping to plant them in the spring around her house. She didn't see anything wrong with that.

Perhaps she was too close to the house. A good ten yards separated her from the house but perhaps that wasn't enough. She had been there more for just the flowers, she was curious about the newcomer. She thought she would be able to catch a glance of the woman.

"Oui Monsieur?" She called back. The imposing man waved her over silently and she quickly dropped the dried flowers from her dress and bound over to the door as fast as she could.

"That's close enough." He warned when she was a yard or two away.

Gabriella took a good look at his haggard appearance before she remembered to keep her eyes lowered from his face. He looked horribly tired, even with that half mask on his face; but a light shone in his eyes. What her sister Maura called, 'His crazy look.'

"Go to Lillys' Ask her is she has some dried horehound."

"Horehound?"

"Yes, and if she does, bring back a good handful or two."

Gabriella looked up as he waved her off on her small quest. "Aye!" She lifted her skirts turned and sprinted back to the cluster of homes.

…. . .

Christine scrubbed her head till she thought she would be dizzy. She couldn't get the feeling of his kiss off her forehead. It wasn't that she hated it; it was because she liked it, and that scared her half to death. She dropped her arms in the water, too tired to scrub anymore and just dunked herself under the water to rinse the suds from her hair.

'You're really hopeless Christine.'

She hadn't even been in the clutches of her kidnapper for 24 hours yet. Well perhaps she had been, she wasn't sure of the time. Christine sat back up, her wet hair draped over her face. Guilt instantly washing over her as the filth washed off her. All he had done was pluck her from the nightmare of the Opera and brought her here, to this wonderful place to heal her.

Sighing, Christine climbed out of the claw foot bathtub and pulled the drain. The foam covered dirty water slowly swirled around the drain; Christine watched it as she let her mind wander. It really wasn't so bad. Being where she was. Of course things could get complicated once she was better. And would he let her return to the Opera house once the plague was gone? Would there even be an Opera house? She shook her head, sending water everywhere. It was not the time to think of such things. She'll cross that bridge when she got to it.

The big fluffy towels felt wonderful against her clean skin as she dried off. She wrapped her hair in one and balanced the towel on her head as she finished drying off. Returning to the mirror, Christine felt much better about the face she saw reflected back at her. She still looked bad, gray pale skin, dark rings around her eyes, and bruise looking marks on her neck and on her arms. But at least she was clean and didn't smell like death, as she was sure she had.

The shift was simple, much like her old shift. It was knee length, white cotton and had a simple lace trim on the hem and neckline. It was a bit too big, but nothing she couldn't work with. The dress was a much better fit. It was of a cotton wool blend, just perfect for the cool weather. The dressed slipped on like a warm blanket and Christine loved the feel of on her. She suddenly realized that she had accepted the fact that she was going to die in that ratty little shift of hers.

The tears started again, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She let them fall as she worked to button the line of buttons up her back. Christine knew how close to death she had come. Just another one among the corpses back at the Opera house. Perhaps she should have died next to Meg. Though death would have taken a while and being next to Meg's body that long might be more than she could bear. She used a plain comb to pull the knots from her hair and she braded it tightly. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, Christine opened the bathroom door.

'I wonder where he is.'

Christine peeked around the door before stepping out into the hall again. The cool air hit her still damp skin and hair and chilled her slightly, causing her to shiver as she carefully made her way down the spiral stairs. Smells came from the kitchen, smells that she was sure were appetizing, but at the moment, eating was the last thing on her mind. Her stomach flipped at the very thought of eating and she hesitated halfway down the steps. Perhaps she should go down to the kitchen; she would hate to refuse the cook. But her legs continued to move her down the steps.

"Christine?"

'God, what's he doing in the kitchen? And cooking no less?' She thought as she paused in the kitchen doorway, stunned to see Erik setting a plate on the small table. The kiss on her forehead burned anew and she prayed that she wasn't blushing. "I thought you had servants to do this sort of thing for you." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at the strangeness of it all.

"I told everyone to leave the house to keep from spreading the disease." He said sternly as he poured orange juice in a small glass. "Eat." He demanded, pulling the chair out for her.

Christine growled, she didn't want to eat. She dropped her gaze down to her feet. Her bare feet; where had her slippers gone? Was she even wearing them when she was kidnapped?

"Christine." He said warningly.

His crazed blue eyes bore holes into her as she fought to keep her eyes to the ground. But finally she caved. His gaze was much too much for her. Grumbling, Christine lifted her chin and took her seat as gracefully as she could. The sight of the fresh fruit, cheese, fluffy scrambled eggs and sausage turned her stomach.

"Erik, I don't think I can eat this." She choked out. Silence followed. She realized it was the first time she spoke his name out loud. Christine looked around to find him sitting at his own meal. It was a strange sight, for he seemed to be some other being that wouldn't need to eat.. .Like a ghost. Christine snorted in her mind, of course he was real, and of course he would have to eat.

"Try Christine." He said softly. "You'll need your strength. At least drink the juice."

Christine really didn't want to try anything, but he was right, she couldn't fight this off with nothing in her stomach. And besides, he said that she could at least drink the juice. She picked at the food, moving it around her plate. The few bites she had were bland, tasteless, obviously her illness made it difficult to taste much. Which was a blessing in disguise. For, as annoying as it was, at least she didn't have to deal with the taste of food. So she was able to eat a bit more that she thought she could. The texture of it alone made her want to push her plate away. She didn't doubt that the food was wonderful; it was just the illness keeping her from enjoying it.

A shout came from outside and they both looked up from their meal.

"Excuse me." Erik quickly stood from the table and vanished back into the kitchen. Christine heard him open a door and she leaned over a bit to look out the window and she catch sight of a strawberry blond pretty little girl sprinting over the large lawn. The girl stopped a bit a way from the house and spoke to Erik. Her words were too soft for Christine to make out.

The girl caught sight of Christine through the window and both girls froze, each gazing at the other.

"Gabrielle?" Came Erik's voice at the door. The girl snapped her attention back to the man and finished the conversation, tossing a small bundle the distance between her and the masked man. Erik dismissed her and the girl took one more look at Christine before she lifted her skirt and ran back the way she came.

Erik return, visibly in a much more…chipper… mood.

"Who was that lovely little girl?" Christine knew it was rude to ask such personal questions but she was so curious as to why someone so strange as Erik would have lovely young children running about.

"She's a servant girl. She brought me this." Erik set the small bag down on the table and returned to his seat.

'Ah, a servant girl. That makes much more sense.' Christine thought "what is it?"

Erik smiled. The sight caused Christine's stomach to do a strange flip, nothing unpleasant, but strange nonetheless. Erik had a dazzling smile.

"It's horehound. For you." Erik said simple as he watched Christine drink down her juice suddenly. He lifted an eyebrow in question. "Christine?"

Christine set the empty glass down, taking a deep breath. "So my idea was correct? The horehound was the herb you were forgetting?" She boldly ignored his question, as well as avoided his gaze. A headache make itself known to Christine.

"It was," he said simply. "I'll make you a tea in a bit. Christine are you feeling alright?"

She wasn't. Christine was suddenly very warm, the dress felt heavy and tight even though it was flowing and free fitting. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her vision was going blurry. "I-I'm fine." She lied.

'Bed, I must get back to bed.'

Christine stood and was about to excuse herself when the room tipped sharply and her vision started to tunnel. Everything was shrinking to a tiny pin hole. Erik watched as she swayed once, then twice before he jumped up from his chair.

"Christine!"

The girl grabbed for the table to steady herself but she had already lost consciousness and tumbled down, dragging the table cloth with her. The plates, glasses, everything came tumbling down around her as she hit the ground.

a/n Hey guys.. whoo…seems that Christine might have overdone it a bit. Me sorry if there were mistakes in this chapter, I'm in a bit of a rush to get it posted before my bothers kick me off.. hehe so I was only able to skim over it for typos and such.

Reviews are loved! Thanks for reading.