I OWN NOTHING

Christine sighed to herself ah she waved smoke-tainted air away from her face. It was the third time today that a fire had been set in Erik's underground abode… all by him. And by accident, it is worth adding. Christine had been working with Erik on his emotional overreactions (as Raoul would thank her for, if he ever met with Erik again), and at the moment she was extremely glad that she had endeavored to do so. Erik was apologizing over and over again, but thankfully, the situation has not heralded an outburst.

For all his genius, the man was such a child sometimes. But that didn't stop her from loving him dearly.

Christine could help a small smile from tugging at her lips as she tried to calm Erik down. "It's OK, Erik, really!" she said, encouragingly, patting his arm. Erik seemed to take some comfort from her touch, and attempted a weak smile at her. He failed miserably. "Thank you for such kind words, my love, but you need not lie to appease me! I am truly remorseful that I must make your visits to me so stressful. Erik ...understands if you do not wish to do so any longer."

Christine couldn't help but laugh. Erik looked seriously offended. "This is no laughing matter! Erik has nearly burned down his own home three times in one day!" Christine was able to control her giggling fit and replied, "really, Erik, you're not alone! Many people find it difficult to cook!"

A few weeks ago, Christine had noticed that whenever she and Erik ate together, he never prepared anything. He would either ask Madame Giry to prepare something, or he would "liberate" some from a local diner. When she had asked him why, he stated that he simply couldn't cook. At the time, she couldn't believe it; the man was a genius, possibly the greatest mind of the century, and yet he could not cook. She now had no doubts of his claims. When she had "forced" (more accurately, asked sweetly and persistently) him to try, she had him make a simple chicken dish; "simple" being the key word. During his attempt, he had burned the chicken and vegetables to an unrecognizable state, seasoned the remains with enough salt to bury an infant, broken several bottles and containers, and made it look like an explosion had occurred in the kitchen while he was still in it. "Erik is deeply sorry, Christine…" he had said, while cleaning the foul-smelling mess up, "generally, he starts a fire, it is meant to destroy all it touches."

No wonder he was so thin! ("Emaciated" is a better choice of words… but dear Christine is able to make anything sound nice and polite)

Christine had waited a while before trying again; Erik did not take failure well. As mentioned before, three fires had been set that day. One of them had set fire to his cape, which he has promptly discarded. Though Christine rather enjoyed seeing the Phantom "suffer", all his impeccable grace lost in the kitchen, she was slightly concerned about his mounting stress level. "Oh, Christine, I cannot go on with this!" Erik bellowed, longing to curl up in his coffin and die, "if not for your angelic presence, this would truly be the most horrid experience of my life!" he threw a jar against a wall, shattering it, "my only salvation is that Nadir is not here to witness this humiliation! The man is a pest enough as it is!" he now seemed to by trying to strangle the air.

As the rant continued, Christine had backed away significantly. She had eventually decided that he had to leave the room, once Erik started throwing jars and cooking equipment around the room. It took him half an hour to calm down, at which time he came out of the small kitchen, apologizing profusely. Christine had decided that she would not continue to try to teach Erik to cook… at least not for some time. But she would not abandon her project completely.

Almost a month later, she tried again to teach Erik to make a suitable meal. After quite a bit of the same failure experienced previously, there was a breakthrough. Erik had managed to successfully cook a chicken breast without burning anything in the process, and was staring at it as if it were a magic lamp. Christine, needless to say, was very proud.

Sorry that this is so short, guys! Hope you liked it anyway!