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Phoenix	By : LadyMeda Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera Views: 4486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any variation thereof. I do not make any money from this fiction. Tags include things that will be in future chapters.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Inspector Gaston Leblanc stood in Mademoiselle Giry's disheveled room once again, memorizing the scene. Something about the incident last night filled him with unease. His gut told him there was something wrong.
The manager was most certainly acting strange. When the Inspector had called on him, he'd poked his head out his office door, glancing nervously about as if expecting an attack. Gaston half expected to be refused in his request to take another look at the room; but the manager granted permission before hastily shutting himself back in his office. The sound of a lock clicking into place let Gaston know that their conversation was finished.
The Inspector pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and pencil. He began to hash out several rough sketches of the room from different angles; trying to capture any details that might be of use. He drew in the candlestick, the shape of the bloodstain, the bindings that lay strewn about the room, the position of the bed. He paused as his eyes fell on the shelf beside the door. Approaching it, he stood on tiptoe to view the top side. Every part of it except a perfect circle was coated with dust. A glance back down at the shape of the candlestick's base confirmed that this was where it had been.
Gaston let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. As doubtful as he was, everything matched up with the young ladies' story. He scribbled the shelf into his drawing before depositing the notebook back in his inner coat pocket. After a final glance around the room, he walked into the hallway; trying to calm the suspicion in his gut.

* * * * *
Meg truly amazed Erik. As he looked down at her in the now lukewarm water, she still seemed a bit overwhelmed; but there was no trace of fear or disgust from listening to his story. Her gentle hand reached up to caress his chest. It appeared that nothing could phase her for long. Her spirit seemed to be as unsinkable as the ocean itself and as warming as sunlight.
Every part of him ached to be inside her again. But he knew that not only did she need to return to the surface soon, but she was most likely very sore. Instead, he settled for a kiss.
Just as he touched her silken-soft lips, a bell sounded the Persian's reply to his letter. He groaned against her mouth, not wanting to entertain the notion of giving her up quite yet.
With a great deal of reluctance, he climbed out of the tub and wrapped himself in his robe.
“Enjoy the bath at your leisure.” Erik told the puzzled-looking Meg. “I have a few things I must attend to.”
“Now?” Meg asked, worry spreading across her face. “Will you be gone long?”
The wistful undertone of her words made Erik's urges stir anew. In a flash his arm was back in the bath, the cuff of his robe sinking into the water. His fingers found the searing hot cleft between her thighs, earning him a soft moan that threatened to make him climb back in the basin with her. His other hand came to lay over her heart. He could feel its beating accelerate beneath his palm.
“You could not keep me away if you tried.” Erik cooed before stealing another kiss.
With a test of pure willpower, he withdrew his hands. “If you grow tired of the bath, meet me in the music room.”
Shirt sleeves dripping all over the floor, Erik darted out before he had a chance to change his mind. He hurried through the hallway and to the chute in his main room. Opening the hatch revealed several parcels, along with a note embossed by the seal of a phoenix. Nimble fingers tore open the wax binding and unfolded the letter.

'A woman's nightgown? Food for two? Special tea?!
Am I to understand that you
have fallen back into the habit of kidnapping young ladies?
From what you've told me,
that did not end well in the past.
Do you always choose the women who are currently in the limelight?
Not only does that seem an unwise practice,
but you have particularly poor timing.
The police inspector has come snooping again,
and I cannot do anything about it
because there is a very angry mother bear
clawing at my door with her cane.
Madam Giry truly is a terrifying woman.
I have currently barricaded myself in my office to avoid her.
Please return her daughter soon.
I fear there will be permanent damage to my door or my head if you do not.'
Erik chuckled as he read the Persian's letter. Leave it to Madam Giry to strike more fear into the heart of a man than the Angel of Death.
He headed for the kitchen to prepare the food and heat some water. When he finally returned to the music room, tray in hand, his little blonde cherub was waiting for him on the couch. She wore only a towel and a blush. As Erik sat the tray of food on the table before her, a worrying realization arose.
He hadn't the faintest idea what he looked like when he ate. For all he knew, it could be an appalling sight.
“Thank you! I'm starved.” Meg said with an appreciative smile as she picked up several pieces of cheese and sliver of apple. She put it to her perfect lips, but paused before taking a bite. “Aren't you going to join me?”
“I...” Erik opened his mouth to decline but before he had the chance, his stomach let out a growling and unceremonious reply. He sighed in defeat. “...suppose I should.”
Pulling his armchair towards the table, he was careful to leave it angled just enough to put half his face concealed in shadow. He chose some cheese and a stem of grapes from the platter and reclined in the seat. As proper and gentlemanly as possible, he began to eat; taking care to break the cheese into small bite-sized pieces.
It took a moment for Erik to realize that Meg had stopped eating and was staring at him. A large chunk of bread sat forgotten in her hand. Flustered, he wiped at his chin to brush away anything that could be stuck to it. When he met her gaze, she looked at him in with dissecting scrutiny.
Erik couldn't have been more surprised when she shoved the entire hunk of bread into her mouth; eyes locked on his. As she closed her lips around it and began to chew, her stuffed cheeks bulged like an adorable golden-haired hamster. The sudden roar of his own laughter startled him. Meg simply grinned around the mouthful and went back to eating.
“Point taken.” He mused, finally relaxing into the chair. “Now drink your tea before it gets cold.”
With a nod, she took the teacup. Erik could see her nose crinkle in distaste as she took her first sip. For a moment he worried Meg wouldn't drink any more. But she already had another plan, and tried to pawn it off on him.
“You don't have any.” She said, offering the cup. “Why don't we share it?”
“No, that's quite alright. But thank you.”
“Oh please, I insist.”
Erik held up his hand in refusal. “That is yours alone and you need to drink all of it. It will help avoid any residual pain from our rendezvous.” He tried his best to convince himself that it wasn't a total lie. After all, giving birth to a monster of a child would be painful. Meg eyed the tea dolefully. But with a sigh, she drank it down in several large gulps.
“Good girl.” He cooed. “Now finish up. I had best get you back to the surface before your mother kills my manager.”
Erik went to retrieve the new nightgown as she finished her meal. He had been tempted to send for something more luxurious than a standard cotton one but knew it could arouse suspicion amongst the other girls.
“You'll most likely need this. Unless you wish to return to the surface in my towel. Although I doubt anyone would complain.” He said, placing it in her lap.
She looked at it with raised eyebrows before giving him a beaming smile. “You really do think of everything! Thank you.”
Erik's breath caught in his throat as she stood and let the towel fall to the ground. Her flawless ivory skin, the sweeping curve of her tiny waist, her heart-shaped bottom threatened his composure. Mercifully the chemise fell down over her seconds later, hiding her exquisite body from view.
When Meg turned to face him, the smile had faded; replaced by a look of concern.
“What am I going to tell Annette?” She asked, almost to herself. “When the inspector saw through my story, she lied and told him she was the one who struck Martine. She will want to know who really did. What am I supposed to tell her?”
With a little smirk, Erik pulled her into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on her furrowed brow. “Tell her that the owner of the Opera saved you, and that you are madly in love with him.”
“I can't tell her that!” Meg gaped.
Erik put his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear. “Then just tell me.”
He could feel Meg smile against him. Her voice was more heavenly than an angel's kiss as she whispered back.
“I am truly, madly in love with you.”
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Phoenix