For Cat, may your trials with your own toilet lady end soon!

Also, it's been a while and I threw this out really quickly so be gentle! ^_^'

Christine was in a fury.

Christine was in a fury.

She arrived home with the slam of a door and fierce mutterings under her breath, some of which shocked Erik. He did not even realize his angel knew such language.

He waited for her in the library, patiently, quietly, enough that he heard her pause just outside the door and draw in a deep breath, as if she were composing herself before facing him. He raised a carefully manicured brow. What could possibly have angered her so?

When she came around the corner of the doorframe, there was a smile on her face but he could see the tension in her shoulders and emotion still storming in her eyes. "Good evening Erik, how was your day?"

"Very well. And yours?"

Her beautiful lips thinned, narrowing to erupt a sharp "Fine."

Erik set the book he had been reading aside. "Dear, what is troubling you?"

"Nothing."

With a huff, she took her seat by him in front of the fire, smoothing out the edges of her dress as if she needed something to distract her hands with… It was a behavior he recognized. With quiet grace, he stood up and walked over to her, kneeling to take those twitching hands in his own. His gold eyes locked on her blue ones, nothing but earnest and loving. "Tell me who, Angel."

Her eyes narrowed. "You promise you won't lasso them into the lake?"

"I make no promises I cannot keep, you are well aware of that."

The tension snapped out of her with a snort of laughter. "It's the toilet lady."

"The…toilet lady?"

"Yes! She's ruining everything! I swear to God, Erik, I try not to hate anyone but I most definitely hate her!"

Now he was just confused. "But…who?"

Her head whipped to him as she frowned and then realization dawned. "Oh! That's right, only Meg and I have been calling her that. It's Giselle."

"Our…decorator?" What on earth did their decorator have to do with anything?

After they were married, Erik had quickly realized living five stories beneath an Opera House, even as lovely as he had made his home, was no place for a family. Even if it was ever only just himself and Christine. So with Nadir's help, they had purchased a house just outside of Paris. Upon realizing it needed remodeling, Raoul had recommended the same decorator he and Meg had used for their own home. Meg had bit her lip but said nothing.

Imagine Erik's shock to realize that Meg and his wife had been referring to her as "The Toilet Lady" all this time. "Why…whyever do you call her that?" he finally managed to ask.

Christine grit her teeth in a rare display of temper. "She's just so impossible. I know indoor plumbing is fabulous, but she wants to put a toilet in every. Single. Room. She contradicts every decision I make and today, she went back to the furniture store and changed the fabric for the couches we ordered. She is just impossible, Erik! I cannot deal with her anymore."

"Then why haven't we just fired her, if she is so difficult to work with?"

A quiet scowl. "For the same reason Meg could not fire her, she is a distant cousin of Raoul's. It would not end well. She already is far too curious about the fact that she has never seen my husband."

"Hmm, I see. Perhaps we should throw her in the lake."

"Erik, no."

"Erik, yes."

Christine shook her head, pulling her hands free of his to throw them up in absolute frustration. "This is why I didn't want to tell you about her, but the furniture was just the last straw."

He sighed and took her hands back in his to squeeze gently. "I won't make the crazy Toilet Lady disappear, but nobody upsets my angel like this. Perhaps it is time I have a talk with her."

She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head at him. "I do not know how well she would respond to being reprimanded by a mysterious, masked man."

"Perhaps a little fear of the Opera Ghost would do her some good." He smiled, cupping her cheek gently. "After all, no one upsets my lead soprano."