A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, my lovely readers! I hope you are all having a wonderful day! Here is my little Christmas present to all of you- a purely fluffy little Christmas fic for an entry for the Second Annual Christmas One-Shot Contest, hosted by the lovely Not A Ghost3! Also- unrelated- I now I have a fic for every major holiday (unless you count Thanksgiving) so yay! But anyway, not to get cheesy with you guys, but because it's Christmas, I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who reads my stuff. You are the best and I appreciate each and every one of you, and if I could, I would give all of you hugs :)
And now that I've said that, I hope you enjoy this little Christmas one-shot (Which still follows the same disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the Phantom of the Opera, etc.)...
Christmas Eve
They were sitting on the couch, both with a delicate porcelain cup in their hands filled with tea, so close to each other that they were nearly touching. Had this been a different time, Erik thought he would have been utterly at peace with Christine sitting so near to him on that soft couch, tucked safely away within the warmth of a quaint little house, away from the softly-falling snow outside. Yes, he would have been content, had it been otherwise. But instead, he was on edge-completely distracted.
They were not settled safely in his little house beneath the opera house, but in a little house in the middle of Paris that was decidedly above ground. The furniture was unfamiliar, the tea cups were new and strange, the sofa was not used to the way his body sat- in short, it was not his house in which he and Christine sat. It was not his and he was uncomfortable and on edge, wishing more than anything in all the world that he was spending this snowy Christmas Eve at his own house, buried deep within the cold earth. But Christine had insisted on this.
From one of the other rooms- a room with which Erik was not familiar- there was a clink of another porcelain cup being filled with hot water, a horrible piercing sound. Erik's head shot up in a flash, his mouth twisting into a grimace at that awful sound. Beside him, Christine looked up at him, her brow furrowing as she frowned.
"Erik?" She laid a gentle hand on his arm and a bolt of electricity shot through him at the sensation her flesh caused on his. Seeing his reaction, she tightened her fingers on his arm, in what he thought was supposed to be a reassuring gesture but it only made his heart beat faster.
"Erik, dear, are you quite alright?"
Before he had time to answer, or even think about answering, he heard footsteps coming from the other room- slow, hesitant footsteps, obviously set on making a great deal of noise. His breath caught in his throat and he looked at Christine, hoping the dire distress in his eyes gave her an answer. She frowned, searching his face for a moment, before the new figure entering the room drew her eyes away from him. Erik swallowed hard and put his cup on the table so he would not drop it. At present, he did not trust his hands to hold the porcelain, considering the degree to which they were shaking.
"Mama," he heard Christine say, sounding entirely at ease. Oh, if only he could at least pretend to feel the same!
"Mama, have you tried that new tea I bought you yet? I thought you would like it, because it has fruit in it and I know how you like fruity tea."
"I have it in my cup right now, sweetest," Erik heard the older woman reply. "And I am most excited to try it. Would Erik like some, do you think? Does he like fruit-tea? I know you don't, dear, but would he rather have some of that?"
At the first use of his name from her lips, Erik felt his heart stop for a brief second before resuming its rapid pounding. Oh, why did she have to drag him into this? Could she not see he was happy with his own black tea? Had he made the slightest indication that he was not? Oh, what had he done to instigate this cruel torture?
Although he refused to look up from where his cup was sitting on the table, he heard Christine reply with a laugh, "Well, Mama, why don't you ask him? He can talk too, you know."
"Oh!" The old woman began to laugh, as Erik tried to slink as far into the couch as possible. "Yes, of course! How silly of me! I had nearly forgotten that he was your Angel of Music, after all. But he has been so quiet! Well, forgive me, Erik. Would you like to try the fruit tea?"
Even though he could not see it, Erik knew for a fact that both Christine and her mama were looking at him intently, and while he did not mind Christine staring at him, the thought of… her doing the same gave him chills. He sucked in a deep breath, looked up, and managed a tight smile before answering in a shaky voice, "Ah, no, Madame Valerius, but I thank you for asking. Black tea is fine."
"Ah!" Mama Valerius laughed as she shared a look with Christine- the sort of look that Erik got the suspicion only women could truly understand. "So he does talk!" She laughed again, and suddenly, Erik felt her old, wrinkled hand grab onto his. He started, nearly yanking his hand away the second he registered her contact, but she held it fast.
"Erik, dear, please- call me Mama. No more of this 'Madame Valerius' business, yes? I am going to be your mama soon, after all, and 'Madame Valerius' just sounds far too formal. Mama will do just fine, dear."
He stared at her with wide eyes as she smiled and nodded encouragingly, clearly waiting for him to show that he had heard her, but Erik only managed to nod at her in reply. His throat seemed to have closed up entirely and he did not think himself up to the task of talking.
"So, Christine, my dearest," Madame- or Mama- began, turning her attention away from Erik, "Have you and Erik planned a date for the wedding yet? Because if you have, dear, I am more than willing to help you write invitations. God knows I do not have enough to do around this house."
"Oh…" Christine glanced at Erik, a soft- and exceedingly beautiful- smile playing around the corners of her lips. Carefully, she took his shaking hand in hers, taking care that both hands were hidden beneath her skirts, away from Mama Valerius' eyes. "Oh, we still haven't decided yet, Mama- I'm sorry. But we are working on it. You will be the first to know once we do decide."
The old woman smiled encouragingly and Christine began to talk once more, the upcoming wedding being one of her very favorite things to discuss, in Erik's experience. "Yes, we were thinking of having a Spring wedding, too, because, you know, Spring symbolizes rebirth and such things. But then, Spring just started coming too fast and now I am not sure if we will have the time to plan a wedding before Springtime actually comes. But we could still do an early Summer wedding, which would almost be just as good, if the weather stays mild long enough…"
Erik's mind began to wander as he heard Christine slip into the same Spring-Wedding-Speech he had heard thousands of times over now. Personally, he did not much care when the wedding was as long as they had a wedding and Christine became his darling wife. Nothing else truly mattered to him. They could have been married in a back alleyway at midnight in the middle of Winter and he would have been happy. But wedding things, he had realized, had to be to a certain degree of perfection for Christine, so he would not mess with her visions for it. If she wanted to get married in Spring, they would get married in Spring.
Off-handedly, he noticed that Christine had stopped talking and then all at once he realized that both Christine and Mama Valerius were looking expectantly at him. He had certainly missed something, then.
"Forgive me," he murmured, glancing at Christine for support. "I did not hear you ladies. What were you saying? I am terribly sorry, for my mind tends to wander occasionally when Christine talks about the wedding."
For some reason that he could not entirely understand, Mama Valerius began to laugh as if he had said something terribly funny, when in reality he had simply told her the truth. He looked at Christine for help, but she only shook her head with a bewildered smile.
"Oh!" Mama Valerius cried, wiping tears from her eyes. "Isn't he just a darling thing! 'My mind tends to wander..'" She broke off, chuckling again, and Erik felt the heat rising to his cheeks, reminding him just how grateful he was for the mask. Never before in his life had anyone, with the exception of perhaps Christine, called him a 'darling thing.' He, a 'darling thing?' Absolutely not!
After another moment, Mama Valerius composed herself enough to say, "We were just wondering, Erik dear, if this is your first Christmas Eve celebration. Christine was saying that you have not really gotten an opportunity to join in the festivities before."
When she said it like that, like it was the most trivial thing in all the world, and that he had only somehow not had a chance to 'join in the festivities,' as she put it, she almost made it sound like an optional, trivial thing, as if many people did not get to 'join in the festivities.' But when Erik thought about it and allowed his mind to replay the memories he had formed on all those Christmas Eves he had lived through, the experiences that danced through his mind left so intense a mark he wondered if he would ever be able to truly recover. He remembered pressing himself against the floor of his room so that he could at least hear his other family members as they sang songs and exchanged their one gift downstairs beneath his little room in the attic. He remembered sitting in a run-down little shed in his later years, realizing that it was Christmas Eve and that he had not bought any gifts, and that he did not have anyone to give any to. And he remembered bustling about his house beneath the opera house, attempting to console himself with the logic that that the holidays did not matter, because if everyone refused to treat him with any kindness even on Christmas, what was the point in celebrating the day at all? He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
"No," he said simply. "I have not. This is the first Christmas Eve that I have celebrated since I can remember."
"And Christmas?" Mama Valerius pressed, the smile fading somewhat from her face. A glance toward Christine told Erik that she was biting her lips and very aware that her guardian was treading on thin ice. "Surely, you have celebrated Christmas?"
"I...ah…" He felt Christine squeeze his hand under the cover of her skirts and he took a deep breath. "I suppose I have, but not in the traditional sense oftentimes. In recent years, I have celebrated it alone, although occasionally I do get a gift or two from the Daroga. And last year, I got one from Christine as well, but usually, it is a solitary holiday for me. I have never truly had a family to spend it with."
His eyes strayed back to the little porcelain tea cup on the table, and he was reminded that he had not yet drinken any of the tea inside of it. Desperate for something to do with his free hand, he picked it back up and took a sip of the now cold liquid.
"So, now you understand why I insisted that he come tonight, Mama," Christine said, squeezing his hand again. "We are Erik's family now, and we cannot let him spend another Christmas alone."
Mama Valerius frowned, which looked out of place on her usually happy face. "No, most certainly. He will never spend Christmas alone again between the two of us, Christine dear. And we will have to make up for all those Christmases that he spent alone as well- poor thing."
She stood, muttering unintelligibly about something in the kitchen and slowly exited the room, leaving the couple alone again, although she did take care to pat Erik's forehead as she padded out. He flushed again and looked at Christine, desperate for a minute of time alone with her.
"Oh, Erik," she murmured, her voice low to keep it from travelling into the kitchen. "I am sorry about her. She can be rather… pushy, I know, but she means well- she really does- and she just wants you to feel at home here. I know this is probably a bit much for you, though…" She trailed off, looking at him uncertainly, clearly waiting for an affirmation of some kind.
"Do not apologize, my dear. There is nothing to be sorry for. Your mama is very kind to me, and I appreciate her warmth greatly."
She nodded but there was a look of knowing in her deep brown eyes. She shifted closer to him, pressing her face into the curve of his neck for a moment before drawing away again. "Do you hate Christmas now? You do not have to lie to me- I will completely understand it if you say 'yes.' I would probably hate it if I were you."
Gingerly, he allowed his fingers to comb through her hair and when she did not chide him for that, he wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders. "No," he replied after some thought. "I do not hate it. There might have been a time, though, when, if you had asked me that, I would have told you 'yes.' But I do not now. I suppose… Well, I do not know truly. I suppose that something about it is just too… I cannot hate it. Especially now that I have you, my angel."
This earned him a sweet, beautiful smile and she nestled close to him, her lips inches away from brushing what little of his cheek was visible with the mask, when the sound of Mama Valerius' heavy footsteps began to wander out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room. In an instant, Christine withdrew herself from Erik, a blush staining her cheeks, and Erik inwardly cursed the woman for stealing his kiss from him.
"Come, children," she was saying, entirely oblivious that she had interrupted a rather intimate moment between her 'children.' "If we are going to make up for Erik's lack of Christmases past, we must do these things right! We will have a feast!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "It is all prepared in the kitchen. But first, we must exchange a gift. That is what my husband and I used to do every Christmas Eve while he was still alive, and now I feel I must pass the tradition on to you two."
As Mama shifted through the many presents under the tree, searching for the ones she wanted to gift that night, Christine slipped off the couch and disappeared down a hallway, leaving Erik alone with Mama for the first time that night, or ever. He swallowed hard. He had not brought any presents at all, not because he did not have any- he had bought countless ones for his fiancee and even one for her guardian- but because no one had made him aware that he was expected to bring presents. He began to pick at his trousers, wondering all the while if anyone would notice if he slipped back to his house to retrieve his gifts.
Before he could come up with some sort of plan to allow him to escape back home for a moment, Mama Valerius had turned back to him from the Christmas tree with two brightly-wrapped parcels in hand. A stab of guilt ran through Erik, which only seared deeper once Christine re-emerged from her room with another two presents in her hands. Oh, what a horrible fiance he was! He was going to be asked to leave for this and then, he would have to spend his Christmas Eve alone yet another year, all because he had left his Christmas presents sitting at home.
Christine met his eyes, searched his hands in confusion, and realized what had happened in an instant. "Oh, dear! I completely forgot to tell you to bring a present, didn't I? How foolish of me! I am sorry, Erik. But it's no matter! You can just bring them over tomorrow and we can open them then. Don't worry about it."
She smiled at him but even that did nothing to stop the panic rising in him, nor did her words of reassurance. He had failed them! He had not brought them a gift at all and they both had one for him. Oh, how they must have hated him now! His hands latched onto the edge of the couch for support.
"I am terribly sorry," he explained. " I had no knowledge of this, but I do feel completely inadequate seeing that both of you have brought something for me, and I have nothing for either of you."
Mama Valerius shrugged as she set his present down in his lap. "Oh, do not worry about that, Erik dear. These are all just small things and it is your first real Christmas Eve with us. I do not mind at all and neither does Christine- do you, dearie?"
"Oh, no! No worries, no fault, Erik. Just open your presents and do not think anymore of it. Just enjoy Christmas!"
She sat back down next to him and, after clasping his hand back in hers, this time above her skirts, she dropped her package onto the small pile forming in his lap. But despite her and Mama Valerius' words, Erik could not shake the feeling of guilt spreading through him. Even so, he managed a tight smile and nodded, knowing that he would not be able to enjoy the rest of the night with the knowledge that he had not adequately repaid his fiancee or his hostess for their kindness.
Christine nudged him, a shy smile forming on her lips, the sort that Erik could never seem to draw his eyes away from. "You ought to open Mama's first, I think."
"Yes, yes!" cried the old woman. "Please do!"
Unable to contain himself, Erik smiled, some of the guilt lessening. "Alright," he acquiesced. "If that is what you ladies wish, I will do just that."
And so, he ripped the paper off to find a little boxed square of what appeared to be homemade fudge. His first Christmas present from his mother-in-law.
Carefully, he picked up a little cube of fudge between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it, before turning to Mama Valerius and murmuring a soft word of thanks. She beamed.
"Ah, you are welcome, Erik dear. I thought you might like it. And you must eat all of that too- it is not for sharing with anyone." At this, she cast an obvious look at Christine. "You are too thin to not eat all of that fudge. You must gain some weight, poor thing, before you waste away entirely!"
With warm cheeks, Erik nodded, taking a polite nibble out of the piece of fudge he had picked up at first. It was quite good but he felt sure that much of it would end up going Christine's way, despite Mama Valerius' wishes. She had a weakness for chocolatey things and he had a weakness for her.
"Now, you, Mama!" Christine cried. "Open yours!"
With a twinge of guilt, Erik, holding tightly to his second gift, watched as she opened her only gift, which turned out to be a pair of hand-knitted woolen socks. There were some more pleasantries and thanks and you're welcomes exchanged, before Christine opened her gift. Inside her box was a tin of chocolate chips cookies, which, Mama Valerius clarified, was a replacement food in case she had a craving for the forbidden fudge. Christine laughed, turning back to Erik.
"Alright, my love! Now, it is your turn again. Open mine!"
Her smile was infectious, and he felt his face transform into a similar one. He picked up the little box, which, despite its small size, was extremely light. He shook the box lightly. "Christine, my dear, I think you must have forgot to put something in this one. It feels empty."
She shook her head, her eyes shining. "No, no… There is something. Although, it really is just a small thing." A faint blush swept across her cheeks again, and Erik suddenly found himself very eager to open it and see just what was inside. He tore open the brown paper without much restraint, revealing a little paper box, simple and white. This, he opened also and was met with what appeared to be a little branch of some type of plant. He picked it up, frowning at it.
"It's mistletoe," Christine clarified somewhat breathlessly. "But it's just a small thing, really…"
"Mistletoe?" Erik looked at her, still holding the little branch in the air between them. The name sounded vaguely familiar to him, but if there was some significance attached to it, he could not remember what it could be.
She nodded. "You know… The plant that couples are supposed to… kiss under, if they are standing under it. And it… it appears that you are holding it above us right now, Erik."
"Oh."
How could he forget mistletoe! He ought to have known it was the kissing trap! And now, he had gone and ensnared Christine and himself. He suddenly felt very aware of Mama Valerius' smiling eyes upon them.
"You do not... You do not have to… do anything with me because of the mistletoe, if you do not want to, Christine. We can just ignore it, if you would like."
He was not sure if even the mask covered the way he was blushing.
Christine giggled and from seemingly very far away, Erik heard Mama Valerius laughing as well. "Oh, no, Erik… don't you get it? I put the mistletoe in the box because… because my present to you is a kiss!"
And with that, she gave him another one of those shy, alluring smiles and it was all Erik could do not to give into the powers of the mistletoe right then and there. His heart began a rapid melody as he glanced at Mama Valerius, laughing next to the tree.
"But I...I... do not have anything for you…" He stammered.
"If all this hesitation is on account of me, Erik dear, do not worry! I love mistletoe and all the Christmas traditions that come with it just as much as anyone." Mama Valerius told him. But even so, after saying so, she stood, slowly and shakily, her joints crying out in protest.
"You two lovebirds have your fun," she said, waving a hand at them. "And when you are done enjoying the festivities, I will be in the kitchen with the feast. When you two are ready, we can eat it."
"Thank you, Mama!" Christine called after the old woman as she left, but Mama only flapped her hand at them impatiently as she finally disappeared into the next room. Christine glanced back up at Erik, her eyes shining. "The mistletoe was her idea, you know."
"Indeed?"
She nodded, reaching for the hand that still held the mistletoe and positioning it back above them again. "I believe the tradition clearly states that the couple must be under the mistletoe…"
He could only manage a soft 'yes,' before her lips were on his, and her soft, feminine body was pressed close to his, their beating hearts keeping time with each other. And he kissed her back, gently and carefully, but fully, as if he could somehow pass all his love on to her through the simple yet indescribably intimate action. They stayed locked that way for several moments, nestled close on a couch that was not Erik's in a house that was not Erik's, but it was a very satisfying sort of kiss, the sort that he was not sure he would be able to recover from for the rest of the night.
"Merry Christmas, Erik, my love," Christine murmured, pulling the mistletoe laden hand back down from the air, her nose still nearly touching his masked one. "I'm sorry it was such a small gift."
"Small?" He kissed the tip of her nose lightly. "No, my love. Not at all."
Although he did not say it, he thought, as he and his fiancee made their way into the kitchen, their hands still twined together, that the kiss was the best Christmas Eve present he had ever received, even if it was only the second. And many years later, once he had received many more presents other than a block of fudge and a branch of mistletoe, he still held true to the belief that that little bough and that soft, sweet kiss were the best Christmas Eve presents he had ever received.
As they walked back into the kitchen, however, the sweet peace that had formed between them was shattered as Mama Valerius asked, "How about it, then? A kiss this Christmas, a child by the next?"
Perhaps wearing a mask was not such a bad thing after all, because Erik thought that he had never blushed as furiously as he did that Christmas Eve night.
