Author's Note: *peers out from around a corner* hi?

Ima do this at the beginning for once, because I feel like explanations are in order...

1. I do not own Phantom of the Opera.

2. I am so sorry guys, I am a terrible person for keeping you all waiting this long. This chapter isn't as long as you wonderful people deserve for all your patience, but I am going to work my ass off and get the next one up sooner and I promise it will be longer. School kind of kicked my ass, and I've been recuperating from exams. Also I'm in Vancouver for the U2 concert and I've only got my iPad... But enough excuses, please accept my humble apologies.

3. Thanks to Guest and Guest for their reviews, Sidhlair for the favourite and review, and ssecnirpeap for the follow because I can't PM them in thanks.

4. I apologize again. In the meantime I hope you enjoy a brief interlude of Kayla and Erik sassiness before we dive into Don Juan!

41

The first thing Kayla was aware of was the fact that she was bloody freezing.

She appeared to be covered up with a blanket, if the slightly warmer pressure on her body was any indication, but whatever type of fabric it was, it was not very affective at doing its job. In fact, it was very nearly useless. Cold air brushed with vicious finality over her face and bare shoulders. Hold up, bare face. Her hands shot up, feeling the bare skin of her face with confused fingertips. No mask. There was, however, a shot of burning pain across her abdomen. Kayla hissed.

There was a rustling of fabric, and the thump of boots on stone. She could sense a presence hovering off to the side. Lowering her hands gingerly, she ran her fingers over the surface of whatever it was she was lying on. Coarse, medium thickness, probably some sort of rough cotton… crawling her fingers out further, she patted at the soft material. Squishy. A bed then. She stroked the cloth experimentally. It was sleek, luxurious, almost like…

"I swear to Gabriel, Lucifer, and the Four Horsemen if that's red velvet I am going to slap a bitch."

A deep chuckle emerged from the darkness. Kayla tried to move her head to face it, but her body did not seem willing to respond to that particular request. Besides, her eyelids were glued shut. So it was pointless anyway. The mattress dipped by her feet as someone sat down. "It is simply the coverlet, from pieces of old curtains from the stage."

"Which means it is red velvet. Mercy, have you no taste?"

"I have plenty of taste, enough for both of us it would seem."

"Let me be perfectly clear, Phantom, red velvet in bedrooms isn't exactly appropriate. Especially since you've got me in here."

"I do not understand what you are implying."

"Of course you don't my sweet innocent baby."

"There are red velvet covers in the swan bed, I do not understand why it would not be respectable. Nor why you are calling me a baby. I am much older than you."

"Enough with the red velvet in the bedrooms Erik, honestly. This is why you're a sex symbol in my time."

Erik choked.

Kayla laughed. She made another attempt at opening her eyes as she listened to Erik's embarrassed wheezing. "It's no good. Can't open my eyes, can't see a bloody thing."

"How are you feeling? Can you move at all?"

"My arms if I'm moving slowly, my fingers by extension I guess." Frowning, she sent a hesitant command down to her feet. Her toes wiggled agreeably. "I can move my toes."

There was another chuckle from somewhere around her knees. "There was no damage to your back or spine, assumedly you should be able to move. I would guess exhaustion is the only real cause of your lack of movement." There was a gentle prodding of leather against the bare joint.

"So that stupid asshat didn't slice my spinal cord? Excellent. How 'bout my stomach? Or my uterus, for that matter? Am I not going to be able to have kids now?"

Erik started violently coughing.

Kayla could not have stopped laughing even if she tried. The stripe across her stomach throbbed with the shaking of her ribs.

"Enough, mademoiselle, enough! You will tear the stiches!"

"Oh… my…. Goodness… I… can't… you're so cute…. Why…"

The voice moved closer and there were hands on her shoulders. "Settle down, Mademoiselle Abbots, I do not wish to stich up your stomach again."

"But… you're… hahahaha…. You're a grown man and you can't… you can't hear anything about… hahahaha… you can't even handle the word uterus…"

Erik cleared his throat awkwardly and Kayla started laughing even harder. The pressure on her shoulders increased dramatically. "If you do not stay still I will be forced to tie you down, mademoiselle. Trust me when I say you do not want to be awake if I am required to stich you up again."

"Oh ho! You're gonna tie me down are ya? Red velvet and tying down chicks, oh my gosh, and Samantha thinks you're so innocent….."

The hands moved to her face, lightly shaking her head side to side. "Mademoiselle, I need you to breathe. With me. In, out. In, out."

His voice was surprisingly calm, the lilt in his voice echoing a musical rhythm. His pattern matched the timing of the Anxiety Master Post she kept on her phone. It hurt to breathe, but she followed the repetitive pattern regardless.

"Very good, now, if you do not object, I will be checking your stiches." The blanket slid off her body in a series of gentle tugs. Cold air hit her exposed skin, and Kayla let out a high pitched whine. Erik stopped short. "Is there another injury? Did I hurt you?"

"Nooooo, it's coooold…."

"It will only be cold for a moment, I will be as quick as I can."

Fabric slithered over her skin, hitting her bare torso well before she expected. Apparently her grey camisole had inadvertently become a bando. "Where's my shirt?"

"I was forced to cut it away from the wound. I apologize. I will do my best to replace it."

"Nah, it's fine, but really? You cut off my shirt? And dude, where's my dress?"

"It was damaged beyond repair, from the blood and from the sword. I had to cut it off you as well."

"Aw. I really liked that dress. It was beautiful, by the way. Don't know if I actually said thank you."

"It suited you. Seeing you wear it was thanks enough."

"Ow! Ow, why'd you do that?"

"I am merely checking on the state of the stiches. None of them are torn, thankfully. But you will need to be careful once you feel well enough to move around."

Kayla stuck out her lip. Erik snickered. They settled into silence as Erik poked and prodded at her stomach.

"Now, would you care to explain the rest of these?" The gloved finger hovered over her side.

Kayla's eyes snapped open. Immediately, torchlight hit her dead in the eye. She hissed like an enraged cat, hands flying up to shield her eyes. Erik growled warningly. "Seriously, bro? You cut off a girl's dress then examine her stomach? Do you have any sense of decorum at all?"

"I am merely attempting to determine that there are no more injuries. Your stomach is damaged enough as it is, I would like to be sure that it is not damaged further. Or internally."

Kayla blinked furiously, eyes slowly adjusting to the contrast of gloom and flickering bright torchlight. As soon as she could see relatively clearly, she tilted her head up and glared up at the figure looming over her waist. "Well I'm not damaged."

"The fop's rapier would respectfully disagree."

Kayla snorted. Dropping back down onto the table, her head hit the wood with a loud thunk. Erik hissed agitatedly, hands flying up to hover over her skull. "Are you really so interested? Really? Ever thought that maybe… I have a cat?"

"Not thin enough nor scarred over enough to be from a cat. I saw my fair share of feline inflicted injuries while I was in Persia."

Kayla nearly wrenched her neck with the speed she brought her head up again. "Oh my hell, so you were in Persia! Oh my gosh, didn't think about movie and book combining like that, oh my goodness, when, when, when…"

"You are avoiding my question, mademoiselle."

"Well you're avoiding mine."

"I asked first."

"Well I asked second."

"I'm your elder and you are my guest, therefore you are under my authority."

Kayla swatted at his black clad arm, grimacing slightly with the effort. "You're an asshole, Erik."

"Language, little child."

"Do you have any sense of privacy? Like at all? I thought you would have, what with the mask and the cape and the supervillain underground lair."

Erik tilted his head to the side and stared at her. If she hadn't known better she would have said his green eyes were almost curious.

"You're not gonna let me do anything else until I tell you, are you?"

"No I am not."

Kayla huffed. Erik snickered.

"I hope you know what you're getting into on this one," Kayla sighed.

"Take your time."