Chapter One: I Think, My Dear, We Have a Guest

Raoul de Chagny stumbled his way through the unfamiliar area of the upper workings of the opera house. He eyed the chandelier's mechanisms as he eased past them and to the wrap around balcony that was only wide enough for one man to stand. This had been the way Erik had told him to come if he 'wished to have the best view in the opera next to box five.'

The Phantom stood with his back to the Vicomte as the younger man entered. "Erik?"

The man in question turned, his mismatched eyes nearly sparkling with delight as he motioned his former foe forward. "Come closer. Look."

Raoul did as instructed and his eyes met the sight of the cast in rehearsal. Christine Daaè was center stage, her newly completed costume fanning out around her and her hair piled on top her head. Meg was off to one side, await her cue anxiously. When it came at the end of Christine's melody, she danced out, her face bright with the cheer of her life's work. "This is a wonderful spot!" he murmured, turning to the other man. "How did you find it?"

"Monsieur!" Erik tsked. "I built the place!"

"I forget," Raoul mumbled, a bit ashamed at his lack of memory. "Do you watch for here often?"

"Sometimes. When my box is not kept for me." A smirk seemed to creep to his twisted lips. "Though the managers have done quite well as of late to leave it open."

This caused the young Vicomte to grin, a laugh escaping his lips. "As well they should! Though one would almost think you've mellowed in the last two years. It took you six months to begin to come back?"

Erik stiffened at the innocent comment. "I was… recovering." He received an odd look from the smaller man and the Phantom heaved a sigh. "You think even I could escape the entire mob?"

Raoul's eyes widened in horror. "My word! What did they…?"

The Opera Ghost waved one gloved hand, dismissing the subject. "It doesn't matter. It was, as you said, two years ago. I've set up better alarms and better ways to run them out if they should ever come back." His eyes turned dark for a moment and the man melted into the Phantom. "They will not destroy my home again."

Silence erupted between the two when Raoul could find no words to sayand they turned their eyes down to the ballet girls who were dancing below, Meg in the lead. The music ended and the girls bowed out, signifying the end of that day's rehearsal. Madame Giry stepped forward, dismissing them, though she asked Christine to stay.

"I should go see Meg," Raoul murmured, turning toward the door.

"Yes, of course," the Phantom answered, distracted. His eyes were fixated on Christine who had approached the aging ballet mistress. They spoke in tones that could not be heard or understood from such a great distance, but Erik did see the man come from back stage. He vaguely noted that Raoul had slipped through the door and it had clicked closed behind him, but his senses were on the scene playing out below. He could not hear Christine's words, but he saw her gasp, stumbling away with wide eye. She let forth a small scream and sunk to the floor, trembling horribly.

Erik was flying down the passageways before he knew what he was doing. He passed Raoul in a flurry of black and red, finally reaching the secret door that led to the stage. He saw the man moving forward, Christine staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her lips trembled as she mumbled something inaudible.

"Christine!"

She turned, seeing her husband coming from the shadows. She reached a quivering hand out to him and he was at her side in an instant, pulling her to him protectively. He glared over her shoulder, eyes smoldering with unspoken rage that this man – whomever he was – had frightened his dearest Christine.

"Monsieur?" the man questioned.

"If she wishes you to stay away, you will stay away," the Phantom hissed. "Or it will be your end."

"Erik," Christine whispered pleadingly. "Please… don't. It's not like that. He startled me, that's all. He…" She choked back a sob, her face pale as if she'd seen a ghost. After a moment of feeling her husband's loving presence enveloping her and his gentle, cool hand against her cheek, she smiled at him and stood. Still shaking, she whispered, "You're dead."

The man before them chuckled sadly. "My dearest girl, I'm so sorry… I never meant for it to be so long. My little Christine." He reached a hand out to her.

Fresh tears streamed down her face as she took it, falling into the man's embrace.

Erik watched this with wide eyes, forcing his jealous temper down. "Who do you think you are, sir?" he growled through clenched teeth.

Christine turned to him once again. "Erik, please!" A smile replaced the pleading look. "Erik, this is Gustave Daaè. My father."

A/N: This idea has been bothering me and I really shouldn't start something new while I'm about to leave for Florida on Thursday, but I just had to! Yes, I know Christine's father is dead, I mean, c'mon, I'm not THAT stupid, and I know if I didn't write that in that SOMEONE would be yelling at me for it. I still might get that. Anyway, That's the whole point. How on the earth is he back? Is it a real ghost? Is he a man? How is this going to effect everything? And who on earth does he show up 12 years after his "death"?

R&R

TS