Thanks to AstanaTombs for the inspiration on this one. Part 1 can be found on my profile if you missed it. Enjoy!

Two weeks had passed. All of Paris was still on lockdown. Nothing moved and all was silent. In the little house on the lake beneath the opera house, all was as it normally was. The key difference was that every day, instead of leaving for rehearsals after breakfast, Christine and Erik would hunker down in the library or at the piano, passing the time by reading, quietly or to each other, and playing music. It was a lovely routine they established, one Christine knew she would remember fondly once life returned to normal.

And yet, she found herself growing restless as the second week wore on. Erik did not fail in noticing her increasing agitation. At first, he said nothing and they continued on the way they had. On Sunday morning, however, as they were about to enter the third week of voluntary quarantine, he approached her where she sat in the library reading a book. She looked up curiously when he just stood there for a moment. "Yes?"

There was an odd, fixated look in his yellow eyes. "My dear, how would you like to take a walk?"

She frowned. "Around the house?"

"No, outside. In the streets."

Christine set her book aside, rubbing her hands on her jeans as excitement spiked in her heart. "Is it safe? Everyone is still under quarantine."

"And no time has ever been safer for the living corpse to stroll through the streets," he said dryly, a corner of his exposed mouth twisting up with self-deprecating amusement. "I'd like to take my wife on a Sunday stroll. We can wear masks if it will make you feel better."

Her face broke out in a wide smile. "That sounds wonderful!"

They broke apart to get ready. Christine quickly ran a brush through her hair and grabbed one of the face masks Erik had procured a couple of weeks ago. Even though it was unlikely they would run into anyone, she still wanted to look presentable. With that in mind, she changed out of her Theater Rats t-shirt Meg had given her as a joke for Christmas and into a nicer plain black t-shirt. She pulled on her boots. She returned to the living room with a small purse that had her phone and ID, throwing the strap over her head once she'd pulled on a light sweater. She waited for her husband to emerge from whatever preparation he was making. He had already been dressed in his usual, impeccable manner, she couldn't imagine what he was doing.

"Erik? Are you ready?" she called.

"Just a moment, dearest."

She frowned, and started pacing the length of the living room. What was taking him so long?

"There we are, let's go."

"I'm so excited!" Christine exclaimed as she turned to face him, only to draw up short. Her jaw dropped and she stared at her husband in disbelief.

He had changed his mask to a more skeletal looking one that covered his entire face including his mouth, and his clothes to a blood red shirt and pants with a sweeping red cape. It was his Red Death costume he'd worn to a masquerade at the Opera House several years ago. She had not seen this outfit in years, had forgotten he even still had it.

And he had decided to bring it out during a worldwide pandemic when their entire city was under quarantine.

Christine sighed. Her husband had a dark sense of humor. "Erik."

"Yes?"

"Go change. You cannot wear that out in public."

"Why not?"

He was deliberately being oblivious. Christine took a deep breath, fully facing her husband. "You know why not. You will freak out anyone that just so happens to spot us."

"Oh? I rather thought it fit the occasion."

Oh, she was going to smack him. "Erik, no!"

"Erik, yes."

Christine sighed in intense aggravation, shaking her head as she stared at the absurdity. Eventually though, a tremor started in her chest and worked its way upward until a laugh burst from her mouth. She laughed. She laughed more than she had laughed in weeks. Erik did not move, standing in place as she doubled over. Christine raised a hand, trying to get control of herself and get her breath back. "I'm….so sorry… Not laughing...at you!"

Suddenly, Red Death stalked closer, stopping within a foot of her and staring down his considerable height to meet her gaze. "That's better."

"I'm sorry?" she managed to get out, her laughter slowing as she began to worry she had hurt his feelings.

"I know we've had our routine these last two weeks and it has been lovely, but I also know you've been a little melancholy, trapped down here with me."

She sucked in a breath. "Erik, there's no where else I'd rather be."

"I know that. I just wanted to see you smile." The skull mask seemed to twist as his own lips lifted behind it. "Allow me to change into more appropriate attire and we shall take our stroll."

Christine watched him disappear back into their bedroom, still smiling herself. Her husband…

Once he was dressed more like his normal self again, they set out for aboveground. The streets were absolutely deserted and for the sake of discretion, they stayed to the shadows and side streets, taking a Sunday stroll as husband and wife through the streets of Paris.