And...curtain.

It was late when he finalized the sale of the Lucky Lady. He had received a telegram from the prospective buyer's lawyer, agreeing to the price for his vessel with no haggling. The new owner simply requested he deliver the Lady to the docks in St. Joe, which he had done. After years of carrying cargo on two mighty rivers, he would be on dry land for the remainder of his life. But it would all be worth it in the end. He fought off the sadness- the finality of it, wanting only to get the last of his things, and then he would take the train home to his wife and daughters in the morning.

He opened the door to the cabin and removed his cap, shutting out the rain and fog. He started in surprise when the glow of yellow lamplight filled the room from the lantern hanging above the small wooden table. With a feeling of dread, he faced the dark figure seated in the chair. He had known this day would eventually come.

"Well, well, Armand. I expected you much later than this. Very considerate of you to not keep me waiting long."

He froze upon hearing that coldly beautiful voice after all these years. He had kept the Lady on the Mississippi alone, and those trips he had curtailed to only several a year. Still, he should have known better.

"Hello, Erik. It's...been a while."

"Quite an understatement, but yes. Yes, it has." He folded his arms over his chest and nodded at the carpet bag on the floor. "Not here long, I see. I only hope you can stay and chat for a while. You know- old acquaintances catching up with one another."

"I'm here very briefly. Then you won't ever see me again."

"Did you get a good price for her?"

Armand stared at him. "I should have realized you would sniff out my presence in town. You always were uncanny."

"Oh, uncanny has nothing to do with it. I bought the Lucky Lady. My boys have a wish to go on the river, and what better craft than the Lady? I will keep them busy helping me with the extensive renovations, and of course the refitting," waving a languid hand around the cabin, "although you always kept this vessel running at peak condition, and the engines clean as a new penny. That I am certain has not changed- it will be an excellent way to travel the rivers en famille. A good education and excursion combined."

Armand shook his head, the feeling of being caught in a web continuing to grow. He had never considered Erik to be a man like any other. Fey is what his mother would call him; a shrewd creature, otherwordly and bedeviled. "How did you find out she was for sale?"

"Tut tut, Armand. Suffice it to say- I knew." Erik paused and casually studied the other man. "Time has treated you well. And your charming wife? Daughters too, I've been told."

Armand's face darkened and his look became guarded. "Leave them out of this. That was a long time ago, and you haven't been bothered at all, have you?"

"Now, now. No need to get your back up. I have no intention of harming anyone, Becky included. I may have, oh, let's just say, over-reacted the last time we met. But my one excuse for that tiny bit of madness was losing something which meant the world to me. Or rather, thought I had lost it. And Becky was the cause of it in a very direct way."

Erik absently drummed his fingers on the table, and Armand watched the movement of those long, pale digits. He had always admired their dexterity. They appeared fragile to the untrained eye; in actuality, they were very strong and adept at what he wished them to perform. Simple task or difficult- it didn't seem to matter.

"It is said, time can heal just about any wound, yes? Fortunately, I didn't really lose anything that night. Well, not much, to be sure, only my sanity for a few months, but I caused considerable pain to the one person I never meant to harm. That I will always regret. But if I had wanted retribution against you or your wife, I could have done so any time these past sixteen years. As long as you stayed away from St. Joseph, I left well enough alone. However..."

He tilted his head and observed Armand from narrowed eyes. "My wife would not be happy to find out her husband's role in Becky's hasty exit from St. Joseph. Even years after the fact." He shook his head, sighing mournfully. "No, not happy at all." He leveled a stony eyed gaze on the other man. "If she is not happy, Erik will not be happy. It benefits no one to rake up the past, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah. I do. Becky learned that lesson a long time ago. She has no wish to cross paths with you again."

"Excellent! I am glad that we are in accord." He smiled then, that slight upturn of thin lips that never failed to make Armand uneasy. After all these years, it still resembled something predatory.

"She won't bother you," he reiterated. "You have my word on that."

"Your word, Armand? Going behind my back in the way that you did, is a good example of your word? You forced me into considering a fitting punishment at one time, you know," he said slyly.

The other man blanched. "You got what you wanted, Erik! Becky away from St. Joseph. I did nothing wrong!"

His smile widened. "Come, come! You actually thought that I wouldn't wonder what became of you? Simply sending a telegram advising me delivery had been made, with no demand for the other half of your fee for said delivery, seemed glaringly suspicious. You do nothing for free, Armand. That, plus your refusal to leave the Mississippi, I consider dubious behavior for a boat captain of your caliber. Confinement to one river cuts into your profits, and as a businessman, you have no peer.

"My gut feeling told me something was afoot, so I made inquiries by wire and discovered that she never arrived at Lil's. Quite logical for me to believe then, that she was in the process of talking you to death, and in a fit of self preservation you dumped her overboard." He tapped a finger to his lower lip. "Better yet, she wormed her way into your good graces," his smile now decidedly wolfish, "or was it your bed?"

Before he could judge it a very bad idea, Armand started forward balling his fists. "Shut up, Erik! Damn you, she's my wife!"

Erik merely held up a hand which effectively stopped him. "Yes, exactly. Exactly, Armand and you have my sympathy! That was fitting punishment, indeed, once I knew you had shackled yourself to her. But I merely stopped by to wish you a happy journey, that's all."

The captain somehow doubted that.

"But tell me, Armand. Ever wish you made delivery to New Orleans instead of running off with her? Excuse me for being blunt, but Becky wasn't exactly the ideal role model for young, virginal womanhood."

Erik observed the deep red flush on the other man's lined face, and the knowledge that his words hit home was in his tired eyes.

He sighed heavily, almost relieved to be unburdening himself. And to Erik of all people. "She was such a pretty thing," he said finally. "I was in love with her before we ever made it to New Orleans, and she said she loved me. Oh, I know she never did, but I don't regret it none. She wanted lots of money and a big fancy house, all of which I had, and I wanted her. Fair trade, don't you think? But now I have my girls, my blonde darlings and they're everything to me."

He lowered his eyes from that yellow gaze and stared at the floor. "S-She loves our daughters, I swear she does- in her own way. Becky took good care of Callie when she broke her arm playin' on the steps. I never found out how it happened, neither girl would tell me, and Becky only said the child was clumsy. She was real sorry when she accidentally locked both girls in the cellar for a whole day. Cried all over them, she did. But as long as I keep her in pretty things, she's happy enough. Even wanted a barouche. A carriage and a coachman at her beck and call." His laugh was short and sharp. "Got them for her too. With a pair of matching gray horses to pull it."

He glanced up at Erik, his face weary and sad. "She went to New York once to the big opera house there. Did you know that? No? We were there for a week- stayed in the Waldorf Astoria and visited every day with her parents. They didn't care much for me, I'm thinkin'. Not good enough for their daughter, but they took my money plenty quick when Becky offered it to them in a loan. I never got it back, but it was worth it. She was so happy. She wanted to sing in that opera house, but they didn't want her 'cept in the chorus; they said she wasn't good enough for better singin' parts."

The masked man watched his former colleague and remained silent.

"We went home and she got depressed. The...the girls kept out of her way as much as possible then. For that matter, so did I," he said wryly. "Nothing pleased her- until she discovered a willing audience in the saloon.

"She loves to sing she does- loves to be the center of attention. She goes to the honky tonk in the next town." He sighed. "Some nights she doesn't bother to come home..." His face flushed at Erik's look of contempt. "I know what you're thinking. I-I can see it in your eyes. What man lets his wife traipse around like that?" He blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling. "I'm not a complete fool, you know. But she does come home. In the end, that's something, isn't it?"

Erik said nothing for a moment, but the look he gave the river captain was one of a man deeply contented with his life. "It is odd, wouldn't you say, Armand? One such as I, the Devil's Child, found Heaven, while you live in your own personal Hell."

The other man shook his head tiredly. "No, not Hell. We were married for years before she gave me my daughters, and they're my world. That's why I need to be there for them. Callie and Rhoda would get near hysterical whenever I left on the Lady- they denied it though when I asked them why. Then..." he said nothing for a moment, his wide shoulders slumped, his posture that of a defeated man, "then there were the bruises. Too many even for the everyday doins' of growing girls. That's the reason I'm giving it up. For my girls. B-Becky and her odd hours...I didn't want them alone in the house, so my mother moved in with us a while ago, and she sees to them most of the time now. They love their gran."

Erik pensively regarded the river captain. "And how much more your daughters will have gained from your steady presence."

"Yeah." His shoulders lost some of their stiffness, but not completely. No, never completely with one such as Erik. "You've done very well for yourself, I hear. That's quite a family you have. But I was told you had some unpleasantness some years back."

Erik's eyes went flat and his mouth tightened. He leaned forward in the chair, while Armand took a hasty step back.

The captain was very familiar with this man.

"What have you heard about my family? And from whom?" It was said very softly, but the inherent menace laced every word.

"J-Just what Wendell writes his sister from time to time. He lives over in Mingo Junction now, but he wrote her when it first happened. He told her some years back that a number of men were killed in an ambush near your home and you were hurt bad," eying the other man uneasily. "Becky means no harm, Erik. She just has an interest in the doins' of her old hometown. That's all."

Archer relaxed back into the chair a little, but his eyes never strayed from the other man's face. Armand felt beads of sweat popping out on his brow, and he controlled the urge to wipe them away. Erik looked for signs of weakness in any opponent, and Armand's first instinct was to show him none, but it was difficult being on the wrong side of the masked man's temper. He wouldn't feel safe until he was gone from this cursed place.

"Hometown be damned! Your wife has always had a malicious interest in my Christine. To the point where she has caused her great hurt. I neither know or care why. From what you have revealed to me this evening, I am sure Becky doesn't even know the answer to that one! Her actions the last time we met, went to extremes," conveniently disregarding his own, "it will not happen again, I promise you. As long as her curiosity remains long distance I will over-look it. But my family is sacrosanct. Not open to her perusal or your discussion, Armand."

The big man nodded, his hand still clutching his cap tightly in one meaty fist. "You won't be bothered, Erik. Becky doesn't really care about this place anymore. Don't worry none."

"Oh, I'm not worried. I am... happy, to tell the truth," and his voice held a note of surprise that it was so. "Something I would have considered impossible at one time. Suffice it to say, the monster occasionally wins the beautiful damsel's hand. But be warned. My lady has the blood of the cruel Viking flowing in her veins, and can be quite the warrior. You could say we have each others' backs. She will fight for those she loves- as will I."

He smiled gently, but his eyes held a triumphant glitter. "She belongs to me. But even better still- I belong to her."

Erik stood up, filling the small room with his towering presence. "Rest assured the Lady will be in good hands. I merely stopped by to tell you- bonne chance. I have no wish to pursue anything more. You have made your bed, etc... etc. Need I say, I will not be seeing you or your family ever again?"

The boat captain caught his meaning right away. "You won't, I promise." He regarded the masked man closely. You're different, Erik."

"Am I?" He pursed his thin lips and took a breath, allowing it to hiss out between his front teeth. To the other man it sounded very much like an angry snake who's been poked with a stick.

"I only meant...I didn't mean..." He struggled to explain. "Hell, not physically. Just...

"...different."

"I have been relentlessly dragged toward the light for years." He shrugged narrow shoulders. "Love... I have found, will do that to a man. It steals its way into his heart just like a thief in the night and takes his very soul.

"But a man or woman would be foolish to think that any change in my...character, went more than skin deep." Those disturbing eyes never blinked. "Very foolish indeed."

He slipped his hat on and stared hard at his former colleague. "Do not think for one second that I won't show my true nature if my family is ever jeopardized. I am no stranger to violence, Armand- as you well know, I thrived on it for years. I will protect what is mine- they are my life's blood, you see, as I am sure yours are to you." The look he gave him held a warning in it. "It is a very fine line between what I will or will not do. Care to find out?" he asked softly.

"No. I believe you," the river captain said just as quietly, and stepped out of the way as the man who occasionally haunted his dreams approached the door and grasped the knob. Pulling it open, Erik turned one last time.

"Fair winds, Armand," and disappeared into the dripping night.

He stood perfectly still, then released the pent up breath he had been holding.

"Well, I'll be damned," Armand said with no small amount of surprise. "He's human after all," and began to laugh.

Fini