This story was written for the Secret Santa exchange on PFN, for The Real Christine Daae. Her request was: "I would like a Christmas phic that involves Raoul being too busy with his snobbish rich friends and family and Philippe won't let him invite Christine. So she is alone for Christmas, and ends up spending it with Erik. It has to somehow involve mistletoe, a cozy cuddling by the fireplace, and some very special gift for each other. I'd really love to see something romantic like a carriage ride through the snow to some special destination." Well, this might be a bit different than expected in some ways, but I hope you like!

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you might recognize from Phantom of the Opera.

A Sprig of Mistletoe

Raoul hadn't been there. That's all Christine could think of as she left the stage for the last time that Christmas Eve. Raoul had promised that he would be there, and she had looked through the entire house every chance she got. Philippe had been easy enough to find; he was sitting in the exact same box he always used. But Raoul had been nowhere to be found.

A group of ballet girls rushed past her, doubtless in a hurry to change so they could enjoy what remained of the holiday evening. Some of the patrons were close behind them, each seeking out his favorite dancer of the evening. Christine scanned their faces, hoping for a glimpse of Raoul, but he still wasn't there. She sighed and fell back against the wall. Surely he was still coming…

She quickly jumped back up as she recognized Philippe. He was still unaccompanied by his younger brother, but Christine ran over to him all the same.

"Monsieur!" she cried to get his attention.

He stopped and looked over at her. His expression slightly darkened, but Christine ignored it. "Please," she continued, "where is Raoul?" She blushed and quickly corrected herself, "I- I mean, the Viscount de Chagny?"

Philippe frowned. "He is at a party with the family, as I will be shortly. I only came for the sake of some friends."

Christine bit her lip for a moment. "But he said-"

"It does not matter what he said," the Comte interrupted with a laugh. "He has obligations to fulfill, and it was foolish of him to think otherwise."

"But couldn't he have asked me?" Christine asked in desperation. "I could have gone!"

"No, you could not." Philippe shook his head and gave her a short polite bow. "Merry Christmas, mademoiselle," he said, and walked away.

Christine watched him leave, but when he stopped to talk cheerfully to La Sorelli and was greeted with a sultry look and a kiss, she couldn't bear it anymore. It only made her miss Raoul all the more. She ran through the halls and to her dressing room, where she slammed the door behind her and threw herself across the divan.

It was some time before she had calmed down enough to change out of her costume into her dress and cloak. Before leaving the room she picked up a sprig of mistletoe from her vanity. She had bought it earlier that day, and had planned to take it home to provide a little Christmas decoration to the small house. She blew out the candles and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

The halls which had been so busy earlier were dark and empty now. Lights shone from under a few of the doors, and low voices came from down the hall, but it still felt somehow as if she was the only one there. It always had felt that way at night. She had used to run back to her bed after every lesson with Erik just because of how lonely it seemed.

She smiled at the thought of Erik, and felt a sudden wave of pity. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to celebrate the holidays alone. She had always had someone, even when it had only been Mama Valerius… or before that, her father. But whom did Erik have? As far as she knew, she was the only one who even cared that he was alive. He must be so miserable having to pass Christmas alone in those horrible cellars!

She made up her mind right there that she wouldn't go directly home after all. Mama Valerius wouldn't expect her until much later, and Erik would be so happy to see Christine again. She was frightened at the prospect of going down there on her own, but surely it would be worth it if it would make him happy! She turned from her original direction and quickly navigated her way down into the cellars.

She could hear his mournful music even before she arrived, and knew that he was far too absorbed in it to notice her approach. She entered the room and stood to the side, hoping that he would notice her. Instead, he seemed not to be aware of her presence. She closed her eyes as the floating melodies began to possess her. This was the same sensation his music always gave her… that feeling she both dreaded and loved. But this time it was even stronger. It made her fall into a horrible despair, and yet gave her wings to soar far above it. She began to walk toward him with her arms spread wide, scarcely even aware of what she was doing, and suddenly began to sing.

The instant she hit her first note, the music stopped, and Erik spun around to face her. She quickly stepped back. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, I- I simply thought…" She paused and turned her gaze away from his. "No, I should know better than to interrupt you."

"Yes, you should." He turned back to his organ, but she could tell his attention was still trained on her. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

His voice was cold and emotionless, but Christine thought she could hear another emotion… Sadness perhaps, but she wasn't sure. She could feel her heart wrenching with pity for him, but his behavior terrified her. "I simply thought… It's- it's Christmas, and… well…"

Erik laughed bitterly at his organ. "You thought you would see how I spent my holidays down here in this pit of darkness? There is very little to it, I'm afraid. You have already seen how I live down here. Or did you think my holidays were different from my normal life?"

Christine gasped in horror. "No, I- That's not it at all!"

"Then why did you come?"

"I came because… because I thought you would want me to come… To be with you."

Erik turned back to her and stared at her. "To be with me," he repeated.

Christine nodded. "Yes. To- to be with you." She bit her lip nervously and began to play with the edge of her cloak. Giving Erik a happier Christmas was proving to be far more difficult than she had expected.

"I… had not expected you to come tonight. You had said you would return, but tonight…"

"I can leave if you wish…"

"No!" Erik jumped up, locking his eyes onto hers. "Don't leave!" He clenched his teeth. "You can't know… what it's like…"

Christine slowly walked over to him and took his hand. Her pity for him had overcome all fear by now. "No, I don't know," she said quietly, "but perhaps you can help me know. Or at least let me help."

"You have already helped so much," Erik murmured. He gazed into her eyes for some time before giving her one of his grotesque smiles. "Come, I have something for you." He began to lead her to the door, but Christine stopped him.

"Where are we going?" she asked timidly.

"I have something I had meant to save for…" He hesitated briefly before continuing: "for another time, but I believe now would be better."

"Where is it?"

"It isn't here," Erik said with another smile, "but if you trust me, you'll soon find out."

Christine hesitated, but finally offered her hand. Erik's smile broadened as he took it and led the way out the door.

They traveled through many dark passages, some of which Christine had never seen before. Many times she found herself gripping his arm tightly out of fear, but he never seemed to mind. At last they were in a lighter part of the cellars again, and almost before she knew it, they were standing outside in the falling snow. "Stay here," he whispered, and disappeared around the back of the Opera.

Christine pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she waited. She didn't remember it being this cold earlier that day, but she was hardly surprised. The sun must have set hours ago, and it could easily be Christmas already. A sharp gust of wind blew into the alley, and she shivered. What exactly was Erik doing, anyway?

She jumped and darted against the wall as a large shape turned the corner. She smiled as it drew nearer. It was a wonderful sleigh pulled by a pair of white horses, and it was driven by Erik himself. It pulled to a stop directly in front of her, and Erik turned and beckoned for her to climb on. As she did, he smiled and pulled a heavy fur blanket up over her lap. "Are you warm enough?" he whispered. Christine nodded, and the sleigh pulled away.

They both remained silent for some time, Erik intent on his driving and Christine on watching the Parisian streets rush by. The businesses were all closed, but many of the houses were still lit, and she could occasionally catch glimpses of people through the windows. She couldn't help wondering each time if one of those people might be Raoul.

When they were finally outside the city, there were few trees or structures to stop the wind, and Christine found herself shivering despite her cloak and the blanket. Still, she was entranced by the ethereal beauty of the snowy countryside. The moon was out and shining brightly, giving the snow a gentle sparkle that it never seemed to have in the city. Erik glanced over at her and began to sing as she watched the snow go by.

It was almost like the snow she remembered from Sweden. Winter had been her favorite time of the year when she was a girl. She would always rush outside in an attempt to catch the first snowflake, and her father would follow, helping her spot it in time. Later they would go on long walks together just to look at see the beautiful snow. She would jump in excitement whenever a sleigh passed by, and her father had promised that someday he would take her on one. She never did get to ride on a sleigh… until now. She smiled up at Erik and leaned against him dreamily. She could vaguely feel him wrap his cloak around her, but she could easily have been dreaming.

He bent down and briefly put his mouth near her ear. "Are you warm?" he whispered. Christine nodded, and nestled in a little closer. He had always felt so cold to touch before, but now he seemed so warm. She closed her eyes and sighed in content. The last thing she felt before drifting off was his hand gently stroking her cheek.

"Christine? Are you awake?" Erik asked quietly, waking her from her dreams.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Yes," she mumbled.

"We're here."

Christine sat up and looked around. They were in a small wood now, with a pretty cottage in front of them. A faint glow came from inside the windows. She looked over at Erik with a little smile. "The house?"

"Yes, the house." He leaped onto the ground and helped her down after him. He put his arm around her shoulders and she started to lean into him again. "Come inside," he whispered. He gently led her to the door and opened it.

Christine stepped forward as he turned to close the door behind them. The only light came from the next room; its gentle flickering and orange glow told her it must be coming from a fireplace. The floor's polished wood gleamed in the dim light, and eerie shadows were cast onto the walls. She caught her breath and took Erik's arm again.

"Don't be frightened," he murmured. "I'm here." Still, she kept her grip on his hand as he led the way into the fire-lit room.

It seemed a little more cheerful in that room. The fire was large enough to light the room pleasantly, and a large couch had been drawn up in front of it. The dim light from the fire cast an orange glow about the room, causing the walls to glisten. "Sit down," Erik said quietly. "I'll be right back."

Christine sat down on the couch stared into the fire, fascinated by its moving shapes as they wrapped around the wood. She vaguely began to wonder how it had been lit. Perhaps Erik had a friend she didn't know about… or perhaps he had been expecting her. That last thought should have frightened her, but the shivers it gave her were not from fear.

Erik was so silent that she didn't hear him until he was sitting beside her, spreading a lacy blanket over her. "Thank you," she said.

"Do you like it?" Erik asked after a moment of silence.

"Like what?"

"The house. I made it for you."

"I love it…" She turned to looked at him. "But why?"

"I was going to wait until I knew…" Erik took her hands in his. "I love you, Christine. I know I've told you before, and you hate when I say, but I must say it again, because that is why I had it built. Every stone was put in place in the hopes that someday… someday you would be my wife… My living wife…" He trailed off but continued to look into her eyes with his piercing gaze.

Christine's heart ached for him, and for the love which he had for her that she was unable to return. He must love her so much, and she felt nothing but pity for him. Oh, how that must make him feel! She squeezed his hands as a tear fell down her cheek. "I know…" she whispered.

"Oh, Christine, if only that were true," he murmured.

Christine drew her hands from his so she could put her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wish there was some way…"

"You know there is a way," Erik said, "but you have already refused it."

"No, how could I ever refuse any happiness from you!"

Erik gently pushed her away so he could look her in the face. "But you have, Christine. I'm afraid you don't know it, but you have. You have already taken the one thing I desire away from me… You!"

Christine could feel her heart breaking as she leaned forward again and put her head on his chest. "Erik, you have me. I sing for you; I give you my soul every time I sing."

"Not anymore," he said bitterly.

Christine knew he was speaking of Raoul; yes, she had begun to think of Raoul instead of Erik when she sang. It had been wrong of her. She had promised herself to Erik long ago, and so many times… and yet she had sung for Raoul! She couldn't even understand anymore why she had thought Raoul more important than Erik. Raoul had done nothing to help her sing, but Erik… She could still hear Erik's voice singing to her: the same voice which could enrapture her with a single note, and the same voice which had given her everything. She could hear it now, singing to her: Raoul had done nothing, and Erik had done everything! Everything.

She sat up, shaking at the sudden realization. "Erik…" she said softly, "I- I do give you myself. Right now."

At first he said nothing, and she froze, scared of what he might be thinking. Had she said the wrong thing? Had she said too little… or too much?

"Christine…" he said at last, his voice filled with emotion. "Is it possible?"

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I love you, Erik." She was completely spellbound in the moment; she felt that she could love him forever, following him even to the ends of the earth.

"Oh, Christine," he breathed, and gathered her into his arms. "You have no idea... No idea how much this means..."

Christine nestled against him, reveling in the cold warmth of his body. As she did so, she was startled by a small prick at her waist. She pulled away and looked up at Erik. "Erik," she said slowly. "I just remembered."

He frowned. "What is it?"

She reached under her cloak and produced the sprig of mistletoe. "I think I have a present for you." She smiled as she held it out.

Erik stared at it for a moment before breaking out into a bright smile. "Oh, Christine!" he breathed. They both leaned in and wrapped each other into a warm embrace. Their lips met as the clock struck the beginning of Christmas.