I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart. And another Happy Birthday to my beta! Thanks for still doing your job, even on a special day like this!

Plans and Countermeasures

Joséphine was delighted to hear that she would finally have the chance to meet one of Erik's friends. She was looking forward to finally meeting someone of his past, someone who knew who Erik was, and she couldn't wait to talk to him alone to ask him a few questions about her husband.

Maybe because Erik sensed that Joséphine would do exactly that, he suggested they invite Nadir for dinner rather than afternoon tea, because Clara's presence would cause Joséphine to refrain from being too prying. Joséphine was not too happy about that, but she was sure that she would get a chance to talk to the Persian alone.

Erik made up a note with the invitation for dinner, and after Joséphine had left to do some Saturday afternoon shopping, he went up to his room, for inspiration had struck him the first time since having finished Don Juan Triumphant.

Before his inner eyes, Joséphine's face appeared. When he had met her today after coming home from Nadir, she had blushed furiously, her eyes searching his face for any explanation for his last night's behaviour.

Still, he had been unwilling to give anything away yet. It already had cost him a lot to admit his growing feelings for his wife to himself, and then to the Daroga, but he still wasn't prepared to talk to her about it.

His fingers played an invisible piano across his thighs as he set eyes upon Clara, who had just come out of the master bedroom, a young servant girl he had never seen before in tow. Upon seeing him, she stopped talking abruptly to the maid, which immediately raised his suspicions. He gave her a nod and continued towards his rooms, while Clara and the maid walked towards the stairs that led to the servant's quarters on the upper floor.

Stopping at his door, Erik turned around and addressed Clara. "Just so you know, we will have a guest at tomorrow's dinner," he said, waiting for her reaction.

Clara whirled around, anger clearly written over her face. "How dare you invite someone in my house without asking for my consent first?" she all but yelled at him.

"As far as I know, the house is part of Joséphine's inheritance, so actually, it belongs to my wife and me," Erik replied calmly, a sneer appearing on his masked face. "We have every right to do as we please."

Clara's mouth fell open, and her hand gripped the banister forcefully. Intimidated, the maid took a step back, not wanting to become the target of her new Mistress' wrath, since she apparently had no power over the strange Master.

"You will regret this insolence, both you and Joséphine," Clara spat finally, her eyes taking on a maddening gleam. She turned around, grabbing the servant by the arm so hard that she elicited a gasp from the girl. "Come, I will inform you of your duties," she said, hasting to get away from her 'son-in-law'.

As long as Erik had been here, he had never seen Clara interact much with the servants. The only one she talked to was her personal maid, an elderly woman named Camille, most times giving instructions that the maid had then to relate to the rest of the household. It made him curious that Clara was ready to instruct a new servant herself, so, using his Phantom skills of walking around unseen and unheard, he followed the two women upstairs, listening into their conversation.

When Joséphine came home from shopping, carrying three bags of different sizes, an exhausted, but content look on her face, she was surprised to find Erik in her room. He stood with the back to her, looking out the window, his posture rigid and tense. She knew immediately that something was troubling him, so she placed the bags on her bed and approached him.

Before she got too close, he turned around, a serious look on his face. "We need to talk," he stated, his voice a bit hoarse.

"I already figured that much," Joséphine replied, sitting down on her favourite chair at the window, while Erik remained standing. She clasped her hands and waited for him to begin.

"Did you already meet the new maid who's to replace Mathilde while she's sick?" he asked her, having returned to looking out of the window.

"Fanny? Yes, I met her in the hall. She seems a bit shy, but she's so young. What about her?" Joséphine asked curiously.

"She's paid by Clara to pry on you," Erik told her. Joséphine's eyes widened, but before she could respond, he said more. "Mathilde's illness is no accident. I believe it is Clara's doing."

Joséphine gasped. That morning, while she helped her lady dress, Mathilde had started complaining about stomach aches, and her condition had become worse during the day. She was unable to hold her food, and had developed a fever. The doctor had been called, diagnosing food poisoning. He said that though it might look severe, she would be up and able to work again a few days from now.

Joséphine tried to grasp what she had just heard. She had been worried for her friend, and very glad to find out that she would recover soon, but the thought of someone harming her friend to get to her made her blood run cold. She looked up at Erik. "You mean Clara…she…she tried to poison her? Why, why would she do that?"

Erik moved his head to look at her, and, seeing her distress, he knelt down before her, handing her a handkerchief. "Mathilde is your friend, she would never betray you. Clara needs someone close to you who reports only to her."

"But there's nothing to report, why doesn't she just ask me, instead of harming my friend?" Joséphine asked, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes there is. The girl has the assignment to find out if you're pregnant…" he began.

"But we haven't even…" Joséphine exclaimed.

"Or else to find proof that we did not consummate our marriage, giving Clara the means to go against us," Erik continued.

Joséphine sat stock still for a moment, the implications of what he had just said sinking in. "Oh my God," she choked out.

Through her tears, she looked at her husband, wanting to know how he felt about that, but his mask made it difficult for her to interpret his expression. Slowly, she raised her hand towards his right side.

Immediately, Erik recoiled, landing ungracefully (and unphantomly) on his behind. He gave her a scathing look, clearly blaming her for his mishap. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

"I won't talk to you about a matter as serious as this while you hide behind that thing," Joséphine stated simply.

Erik stood up, brushing off his pants. "You don't know what you are saying."

"Will you stop it, Erik? We don't have the time to talk about this issue again. I told others I don't care what you look like behind your mask, how often do I have to tell you?" she replied exasperated.

She got up and approached him, glad that he didn't move, though his posture betrayed his tension. Slowly, her hand reached towards the mask again, this time removing it together with the wig in one fluid motion.

It had been a while since she had seen him without his accessories. She remembered being terrified when he had stepped into the light in the church that fateful night they had met. His eyes had blazed with nearly undisguised fury, making his deformity look even worse.

Even now, she felt uncomfortable looking at him too long. But then she chided herself for judging him for something he had no influence in. She had come to know him, and she couldn't say she loved him without accepting him as he was.

With only slightly trembling hands, she touched the uneven surface of his right cheek, causing him to look at her. She could see the fear of rejection clearly in his eyes, and she fought against the tears that threatened to well up again in her own. What seemed like minutes were only seconds before she spoke again.

Erik knew she had seen his deformity before today, but still, as her hand had moved towards the mask, he was certain that this time, she would turn away from him upon lying eyes on his hideous face.

How could she stand there before him, knowing his face, knowing the blackness of his soul, having heard from his own mouth the atrocities he had committed, and still look at him calmly without condemning him?

And then she touched him, touched his deformity, without flinching away. Golden eyes got lost in green ones, and he heard her as if from far away. "Can we go back now to talk about how we are going to handle this new development?"

His first thought was that she was too uncomfortable talking about his monstrous side, but then, what was there to talk about? She had told him on multiple occasions that she accepted him, and she had proofed it time and time again, willing to be patient until she had finally earned his trust.

She was right, there were more important things that needed their full attention, but what he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her without the confinements his mother, society and he himself had placed upon him.

Stopping the wandering of his thoughts, Erik turned his sharp mind to the matter at hand. Gently, he lifted her hand from his face, and made her sit down again, then pulled up the chair from her desk to sit across from her.

Joséphine looked at him expectantly. "So, what are we going to do? Shall I refuse Fanny's service?"

Erik shook his head. "It would not be wise to inform Clara so soon that we are aware of her schemes."

"What do you suggest, a trap?" Joséphine asked curiously.

"Sort of," Erik replied. Ever since he had overheard Clara and the new maid he had come up with several plans, but had soon discarded them as fruitless. Now, given the reaction, or lack thereof, Joséphine had given him upon seeing him unmasked, a new plan started to form in his mind.

"The girl will probably ask questions about us, so you will have to be careful what you say to her," Erik said.

"I know that," she replied indignantly. Erik gave her an excusing look.

"Don't let any correspondences lie around openly, and when we talk, we better make sure beforehand that we won't be overheard," he said further. Joséphine nodded.

"Given the duration of our marriage," he proceeded, his tone now guarded, "it would be unwise to stage the consummation so long after the bond was made."

"Especially given the fact we told Clara that it was already done," Joséphine smiled, though somewhat sadly, giving Erik hope this plan would work without her objection.

"Until now, it was Mathilde that woke you in the morning, right?" Erik inquired, which Joséphine confirmed. "Being your friend, she would never tell anyone what she saw, or didn't see."

She nodded again, unsure what he was getting at. "Since Mathilde will be replaced by Fanny, it is up to us to decide what she will see."

"I am not sure what you are talking about," Joséphine said hesitantly.

"Would you be willing to spend the night with me?" Erik began, and rashly explained himself when he saw the surprise on her face. "I mean, I could come to your room early in the morning, so the girl will see us in the same bed when she comes to wake you."

As Joséphine still said nothing, only continued looking at him with a strange expression, his hopes fell. "I promise I won't harm you," he said gloomily, trying to reassure her of his sincerity.

"Why?" Joséphine asked him suddenly.

"It does not have to be tonight, or tomorrow, but…" Erik started but Joséphine wasn't finished.

"Why not spend the whole night with me?" she asked him in a low voice.

Erik had hoped for her acceptance, but he had not expected that response to his proposal. "You would be willing to…"

"You are my husband after all, and though having separate bed chambers is highly common in my class, I certainly would not mind your company."

Inwardly, Joséphine was surprised by her boldness. When she had first kissed him, he had shied away like an animal from fire. Then, last night, he had shocked her by initiating a kiss on his own. He certainly seemed to have developed some feelings for her, and now undermining Clara's efforts to manipulate them gave her an unexpected opening to assure him that she really cared for him, wanted him.

Erik rose from the chair and knelt once again in front of her. Grasping her hands with one of his one, his other rose to caress her face. "Joséphine, you are…" he searched for a word, but found none that fit her, "…more than I ever deserve."

Fighting the urge to close her eyes, she leaned into his touch. "Erik…" Then she closed the distance between them and kissed him. This time she met no resistance at all, though his eyes fluttered open when she placed gentle kisses on his marred flesh; he couldn't remember closing them.

After what seemed too short for both of them, they broke apart. When she spoke, Erik could feel her breath against his flesh. It was wonderful. "So you will come to me tonight?" she whispered.

Erik moved back a bit to look at her. "No." Seeing the hurt look that appeared on her face he continued.

"Tomorrow, after dinner with Nadir. I must go out on business tonight, and will probably return late. I don't want to disturb and wake you." The smile she gave him was like nothing that had ever been bestowed upon him before.

"Tomorrow then," she said simply. Then she reached out again to draw him in for a kiss.