When they arrived at his home, she sat him on the piano bench - the nearest place for him to sit.

   "Now where are your medical supplies?"

    "In the desk over there."

    "Great. Now take off your shirt."

   She fetched the supplies while he stripped with great difficulty. With her arms loaded with medical things, she paced back to her patient.

   He had only removed his waistcoat.

   "Oh don't be a baby. I used to swim naked with Rodger; get the shirt off so I can inspect whatever you did, hmm?"

   "Grace..." he huffed. He really wanted to inquire further about the swimming... but there was a more pressing matter. "It's not just my face that should be hidden."

   "So you're saying that covered in blood, possibly missing flesh, and definitely gory, you have yo warn about when your skin is not broken and gaping?"

   She sat down behind him and began getting out what she thought she needed.

   "I have scars too."

   "Maybe some day I'll show you mine if I see yours now," she said, threading a needle.

     "Damn you."

   "Thanks, I love you as well."

      Erik tossed his shirt and Grace was shocked for many reasons. First, he had been shot and blood was gushing, so she assumed an artery had been hit. And it was not in his arm at all, but his shoulder. Second, he had scars all over his back that had been inflicted, as most of hers were, by other people. Third, he had a really fit, well-kept, athletic body.

    "Well we have another thing in common," she said, applying pressure to the wound as Erik hissed and dug his nails into his palms at the intense pain.

    "I'll bring you a drink if you'd like when I'm done."

   "I don't have liquor in the house."

   "Not even for medicinal purposes?"

  "No."

   "Then I admire you."

   "Shut up and keep talking. Your useless ramble is the only distraction I have. Wait - what do we have in common."

     "This is going to sting." And sting it did. Half his sheet music was suddenly floating to the ground around them as he knocked over the pile when he jumped at the pain she was causing him.

    "Put your guard down, you are much too tense." In fact every time he tensed or craned to look at what she was doing he started bleeding again.

   "Sorry, it's in my nature."

    "Damn it, Erik! Do you know what we have in common? People took knives to us. They hit us and threw us. I'm not going to do that to you, and I know you're not going to do it to me, so let me help you. Be vulnerable and let someone in for once, take down the walls. Or I might just let you die, you insufferable man."

    "I'm sorry," was all he said. But he did stop moving. He knew she was right, and in this circumstance, he was doing more harm than good. He just needed to be in control so badly. He needed to be distrustful less he get hurt again.

   "That's better. What do you want me to uselessly ramble about?"

    "Why were you swimming naked with Rodger?"

    "Well... he was naked. I had on my slip. And we were ten. Oh, and he was already in the water, which came up to his shoulders by the time I turned around."

   "Why do I believe anything you say? I literally thought you had gone swimming bare. It sounds so much like something you'd do. Why couldn't you two just go in with your clothes on? Is he at least planning on marrying you?"

   Grace's hand stilled for a moment, and he felt it, but she quickly resumed her work, having at last stopped the bleeding and tidied up the area a bit.

    "I hope you weren't picturing that. It would be quite ungentlemanly."

    "Oh believe me, seeing something like that would mentally scar me for the rest of my life."

   For that Grace didn't warn him that she was about to extract the bullet. He let out a string of profanity.

    Grace laughed.

   "Is he planning on marrying you?"

   Grace stilled again. She dropped the bullet into her lap, picking up the needle.

   "I don't think many gentlemen would find mw attractive enough to marry, nor demure enough, and they certainly wouldn't marry me for my money."

   "Stop saying that. You are quite pretty  - oh good lord, at least tell me before you stab me with that needle!  You are quite pretty, and I'm sure Rodger would agree."

   "Oh he agrees. I think you're both blind though. And of course, like you, I have some things that a lot of people don't want to see, particularly a husband." Please get off this topic, she silently wished.

   "Then is he going to marry you?"

   Grace sighed. He was so stubborn. "What are your thoughts on love?"

   "What?" Erik was now confused. "Answer my question, please."

    "You are not my husband or father, so therefore I didn't need to tell about the swimming or if Rodger and I are going to marry or not. Answer mine first and I'll tell you - and yes, George and Nora know and they don't care. They wouldn't even if we had been fully undressed."

   "Thank god I'm not your father, you'd be such a handful, I'm sure. Explain your question at least?"

   She tied the stitches. "What are your thoughts on love? Can anyone love anyone?"

    "Yes. Why not? It doesn't matter to me if someone married their wooden teeth. Who am I to stop or detest what other's feel when they are lucky enough to feel it."

   Grace breathed in relief. "Erik, Rodger doesn't like me. Nor any woman. He's interested in men."

   "Why do so many things make sense now? How often is he going to be in Paris? I think he and I will be great friends," he said, echoing Grace's words from that day at the docks.

  She gave him a funny look. "I thought you hated him."

   "I did. But now I know he's not toying with you and everything is much better."

   "The fact you thought I would allow someone to toy with me is extremely offensive." She was halfway through wrapping bandages around him.

    "And I told you, I don't intend to marry. I'm an old spinster."

   "A beautiful old spinster who I shall not let marry just anyone."

    Grace almost dropped everything she was holding. She actually smiled too. "You know, that's the first time someone outside my own family who is entirely mostly right in the head said I was beautiful - it's nice to hear."

   "The good truth always is."

     "But worry about Christina, won't you? How was the wedding?" She gathered the used things and disposed of them in a nearby bin.

    "She's married. And I am considering not kidnapping her or doing something to get her back when she comes for the January show. It makes my heart ache, but she is happy. Yet she should be mine."

  Grace thought it best not to comment, so she continued to clean up. Her slight frame flitted around the room, putting things back in place, and Erik's eyes followed. She felt them on her, frowning, and only when she stopped and looked down at herself did she realize why.

   "Oh... well thats a first. At least now I can brag about how I've officially worn someone's blood." His blood was all over her nightgown, splattering across the white material.

   "That cannot be hygienic, and you are nearly defeating me in the morbidity ranks."

   "Yes, we are both morbid. And no offense but this is a bit revolting. I haven't seen this much blood since the carriage fell on me. Excuse me please." She threw her nightgown over on his shirt. "I can clean both if you want."

   "Leave them for now," he said, waving the suggestion away.

   "Do you mind if I ask what happened though? How were you shot?"

    Erik considered what to tell her wearily. "I met an old foe at Christina's wedding and we had to settle a dispute. Naturally I won, except with some damage." And a broken promise Christina shall never know about.

   Grace nodded, and Erik's eyes drifted over her again, realizing she was shivering.

   "You're cold."

    "Well yes. You basically live in a very large cave. A chasm. With water and musical instruments, I think it would be rather drafty."

   "Forgive me, I myself tend to run a cooler temperature so I often do not notice it. There's a few spare articles of clothing in that chest over there - no, Grace, the other wall."

   She pulled out a long, dark coat and slipped it on. "Would you like me to get you a shirt?"

   "No, I've been in enough pain today. I just want to sleep. Can my prop escort me to my bed chamber? Would you like to stay the night?"

   Grace's eyebrows rose in a do clarify, sir, sort of way.

    "Not with me. In your own room. And I only suggest it because it's so late and it would be pointless for me to guide you back to the above world, nor do I think it wise for you to venture on your own in the dark."

   Grace smiled. "Thank you then. Just don't place me in Christina's room," she said, helping him up. He staggered quite a bit. Clearly the blood loss had caught up to him.

   "I won't. Hers is next to mine. Go across the hall to the third one."

   "Don't vomit on me, I know you're dizzy."

   "I wouldn't dare."

   His room was very dark, and she couldn't see anything. However, he knew she was blind in the night, and told her to go. Grateful, she closed the door, after telling him good night and to scream or throw something if he needed her or woke up dying.

     She found the room he suggested to be very lovely. It was large, with a four poster bed, and several candles. The walls were a light blue, and overall it was more than comfortable.

    Both of them slept very well that night.

   A/N

    I think there's something wrong with me. As I was writing this, I was laughing so hard I kept making typoes. The idea of Erik shirtless and Grace in her undergarments just chatting casually after she sewed up his shoulder  - and especially in this time period - is just such a funny picture. And I don't know why.

   And @A_heart_of_marble I have no idea how you guessed that Erik was "frickin" shot, but props to you for awesomely predicting what was going to happen!!!!

    Thank you, my Phantastic readers,

   Alexa