Grace was buttoning Erik's shirt, adjusting his clothes on her slender frame in the mirror as he  perused her collection of books. They had discovered that they both shared a mutual interest in reading, and that they had similar tastes in literature. Currently they were arguing about Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte.

    "Rochestor is nearly twenty years older than Jane, and in the end of the book, he is both blind and missing a hand. St. John may have loved someone else, but how could Jane truly have known Rochestor's wife had died? Had she planned on becoming his mistress since she was now her own woman?"

    Grace was trying very hard not to roll her eyes and smack him on the side of his masked head. Of course he'd point out age and disability.

    "Jane loved him. That's all she needed. If Christina was mad, you'd care for her. If she were blind, or if she were twenty years older - wait. Mr. Rochestor was only fifteen years older. And age is not important. Jane Austen wrote about a seventeen year old marrying a man who was thirty-five."

   "Yes, well you better not do that."

   "What makes you think I'll marry? Besides, I told you I'm an old spinster. If I have any relationship of any kind, it will be with Leo. I can't imagine having him in my bed would be any different than having a man; he snores and drools and pushes me away constantly, same as any human male would. And for the record, Rochestor did regain vision in his remaining eye."

   Erik was not sure how to reply. The bit about the dog confused him immensely, though it was funny.

   "Grace, if a man were to push you away, it would either be because you are brandishing a knife at him or he thinks you have a knife off of your sleeve. And I've never heard of a person letting their dog into their bed."

   "That's because you're a man and most men would rather have a woman sleeping beside them then an animal. I need to get you a cat. Then you won't have a choice."

   "I'm very confused. How is it we started talking about literature, then the role of age difference in love, and then the matter of animals and marital relations? I'm confused, very confused, can you feel my confusion?"

  Grace laughed, turning around to face him. "First of all I never said either party was married."

     She was planning on saying more, but a sharp tap sounded from the door, and suddenly it opened. Rodger stepped in with a bouquet of flowers.

   "Hello Gracie Baby. Hello, I don't know who you are. Wait." Rodger stopped dead in his tracks and eyed Grace up in down. Erik considered throwing him out of the room considering his shirt, the shirt Grace was wearing, was only half way buttoned and her unergarments and... skin was visible. But Grace did not seem to be bothered. However they both blushed at what Rodger said next.

   "Whoa ho oh, Gracie. I told you all you needed to do was put on a pair of pants and stuff a sock down said pants and you'd become one of the fellows. Glad to see you've done it," Rodger said, patting her firmly on the shoulder. "Better than raising petticoats to do things right?"

    Grace blinked, trying to understand. Then she realized and her face went as crimson as Erik's visible cheek.

     "Anywho," Rodger turned to Erik then looked back to Grace. Specifically the open shirt she was wearing, which displayed a large amount of skin and her undergarments. "Was I interrupting something? You two were halfway across the room from each other and Grace does often parade about in undergarments but dark brooding types are her cup of tea. Or she's their's. And you sir are dark and brooding. Nice mask, by the way. Is he...?" Rodger trailed off, looking meaningfully at Grace.

   She stopped blushing, countenance becoming exasperated. "No. He's not. You'd have better luck elsewhere. And you are not interrupting. It's me, would I ever get myself into a situation where you would be interrupting in that way?" She did begin buttoning the shirt though.

   Rodger seriously considered a moment. "Yes. I think so. Bed fellows are -"

   "Rodger!" Grace scolded.

   "Excuse me, sir, but seeing as Grace works for me, if anyone should be concerne about who sees what on her... it should be me. So perhaps you might leave and allow her to finish getting dressed?" Erik stepped over to him, processing, or trying to process, whatever it was going on.

    "You are quite handsome," Rodger smiled. "Gracie, I've come with news. I went to a brothel -"

   "And I am parting if you feel... comfortable?" Erik asked, having no idea what to do, but not wanting to stand around like an idiot any longer. Not to mention he did not want to hear about Rodger's escapades just as much as Grace wanted to trade her dog for a man.

    "Goodbye," Grace waved, shrugging into his overcoat.

    Once he had left, she turned to Rodger. "Well?"

   "I went to a brothel today and the owner said they were closed because someone had bought the women. Why didn't you tell me you had made the purchase? I am happy for you, but you could have saved me the trip." Rodger neatly folded his hands behind his back and waited for an answer.

   "I didn't..." But something occured to Grace then. "Oh my god."

                                 🌹

    "Erik, Pierre and I decided to have a private wedding tomorrow night, just so that we could be married. We can't bear to wait any longer, and the one that his family planned isn't until February. I would appreciate you're coming to both. Especially tomorrow. You are such a dear friend."

  Up until this moment, Erik had been looking at her with adoration. Now he hated her. He had lost her, he had lost everything once again. She had once more been stolen from from! Oh his anguish, his pain! He could never have her now. He - he had January. He had the performance in January. He could steal her back then.

   He smiled with a deviousness so evil, the good, kind, pure hearted Christina would never see it.

   "I will be there, my dear."

A/N

   This was a partial filler and fluffy ish thing. But I hope Rodger's dialogue was funny. And Erik is in for an earful and gunful. Oops. Did I say gunfull? Never mind. Ha ha.

   *smiles maniacally because I'm trying to give a hint.*

    Enjoy.......... also. Just found one of the loveliest versions of Point of No Return, with Claire Moore. No clue who is playing Phantom, but both of them are incredible.