Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with either POTO or LND. I only own my love of both shows (yup – both!) and my headcanons – which is basically what this fanfic is.

A/N: This fanfic is fairly Raoulcentric and WILL be Raoul-friendly. Unsurprising really, seeing as how I like Raoul more than Erik (the Phantom) and really don't think M'sieur le Vicomte deserves nearly as much hate as he gets. So yeah. If Raoul-bashing is the thing you enjoy, you ain't gonna find it here. Sorry.

1. Two Kisses

Raoul stared in disbelief as he watched the love of his life spin his worst enemy round and kiss him full on the lips, the pain in his neck from the ever-tightening noose momentarily forgotten. He could see the Phantom's eyes were wide open, and a similar expression of disbelief was etched on his disfigured face. Raoul glared furiously at the Phantom, then gave a small strangled sigh as he realized he was being ignored. Finally, Christine pulled back and Raoul watched with a hint of impatience as the two deciders of his fate gazed into each other's eyes. Thoughts on what had just happened whirled through his head.

Christine had kissed the Phantom. Did that mean she'd chosen to spare Raoul's life and stay with her "Angel"? Or...was it a kiss goodbye? Raoul was almost certain it was the former. In which case...the Phantom would let him go and he would spend as long as it took getting Christine away from the monster. But he couldn't do anything stuck in a noose like this; it was all he could do to keep breathing. First, the Phantom had to let him go. And if he was a man of his word, which Raoul was sure of, he would let him go. Just as soon as he stopped gazing at Christine, he would come over and pull the infernal rope from Raoul's neck. Raoul was certain. Any second now...

Moments later he let out a strange noise somewhere between a cry and a whimper as Christine moved her hands up to cup the Phantom's cheeks and kissed him again. And this time, Raoul noticed the Phantom surrender himself to the kiss, closing his eyes and wrapping his shaking arms around Christine's slim waist to pull her even closer. However, if only the Phantom had kept his eyes open, he might have felt a wave of triumph at the sight of the young Vicomte closing his eyes tight and hanging his head as far as the noose allowed, despair replacing the previous expression of disbelief. For, at that moment, both men had exactly the same thought running through their minds:

Two kisses. Christine had given two kisses.

For one man, this thought opened a world of hope; for the other, it only opened a pit of darkness. One kiss could have been explained simply: Christine was merely using the kiss in order to show the Phantom she accepted his offer for Raoul's freedom. Or she was attempting to instill some sense of human kindness into the Phantom, a way to bargain both her life and the life of her fiancé. One kiss could be explained. But two... Two kisses could only mean one thing: even if Christine hadn't realized it, her allegiance had changed; she actually had feelings for the Phantom. And to Raoul - who had followed her, it seemed to him, into Hell and to his possible and, indeed, almost certain death, all out of love and devotion to her - that thought filled him with absolute ice-cold dread. He was almost unaware that the intimate moment had ended and that the Phantom was standing right in front of him with a lit candle in his hand until he raised his head and glared into those piercing eyes.

For a long time they gazed at each other, ice facing fire and Christine looked on nervously. There was an unknown connection between the two men – the connection shared between a hunter and his prey at the moment of victory. Both men knew that, whatever the final outcome of this, Christine had finally made a choice. And no matter how much Raoul could, and would, show his affection and love to her, and no matter how he might wish with all his heart that his feelings could alter hers, she would always remain under her Angel's spell. The Vicomte's eyes flicked to the candle clutched in the Phantom's hand. How he wished at that instant that the madman would just set fire to him and end it all then and there. Maybe the Phantom saw the wish in Raoul's eyes...maybe he had already reached the conclusion that it was the best way to punish the boy... Whatever the reason, he reached up and, with a single swipe, he burned through the rope and watched with an almost invisible smirk as Raoul dropped to the floor, gasping for breath. Wordlessly, the Phantom bent down and grasped the dripping collar of the boy's shirt and dragged him up, throwing him towards Christine.

Raoul barely glanced at Christine as she caught and steadied him; his mind was far too preoccupied with the image of her giving the Phantom a second kiss. As breath returned to him, so did anger. He turned and lunged back at the madman, deaf to his orders to leave him there in his hellish world. It was only the distant feel of Christine's hands on his arms that gave the rage-filled Vicomte any form of restraint – no matter what her feelings, Christine was still a girl and she had been through so much tonight; witnessing a murder would surely be too much for her... At least Raoul cared about her enough to spare her that, he thought with a touch of bitter smugness. And so, instead of tearing the deformed man limb from twisted limb, the Vicomte allowed himself to be dragged from the lair and towards the boat moored at the edge of the lake, and there he promptly busied himself with readying the boat for them to leave. It wasn't until he turned round to offer Christine assistance with getting into the boat that he realized she had disappeared back into the lair.

Growling to himself, he retraced his steps and watched from the shadows as Christine handed a ring to the Phantom and kissed his hand. She was sobbing. Finally, she turned away from her Angel and Raoul stepped forward. To her credit, if she was surprised to see him waiting there for her, she did not show it. Nor did she try to hide her tears. Raoul reached out a hand towards her. All three of them gathered there knew: this was her final choice. Christine hesitated, looking at the man that had never shown her anything but love, and slowly looked back at the Phantom. Raoul felt his heart crack as she looked back, and felt it crumble into a thousand pieces as the Phantom gave a small nod to her. He should be feeling elated; he had achieved what he had set out to do – Christine was leaving with him. Yet it was not a victory. For Raoul knew, that instant when the monster had nodded his permission for her to leave, when Christine had looked back – he had known at the moment she had given two kisses – that Christine would never see him as anything more than an obstacle. An obstacle to her true love. As Raoul led her away from her Angel, he saw their future pass before his eyes, and his soul sank.