i don't own phantom of the opera or any of their characters. this is my own version of the story. hope you like it!

A nine year old Christine glanced around her surroundings warily. The streets of Paris were dark and quiet. No one was on the street of any importance to her. Satisfied that no one knew where she was, she quickly opened the hidden door and slipped inside, clutching her basket tightly.

The passageway was dark and she could hear dripping water. Unafraid, she skipped down the hall happily. Instantly, she felt his presence. It made her smile brightly and she slowed to a halt as she came across a small boat.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Erik, why do you always have to be so extravagant?" she asked. She heard a soft chuckle and she stepped into the boat.

Taking up the paddle, she awkwardly steered herself to her destination. Soon, she saw the candles and sighed in relief. Her poor arms were screaming from paddling.

She docked the boat and picked up her basket. Soon, a figure emerged. A tall, lithe boy with a canvas sack over his head stood in front of her, his hands on his hips.

"Christine, what are you doing here?" he questioned, but secretly, he was thrilled to see her. His only friend besides Madame Giry, he cherished the small girl before him.

"It's your birthday silly!" she said with a giggle. "I came to give you your presents and some food."

"Presents…?" he whispered. No one had ever given him anything before. Christine strode past him to an area that was flat. From her basket she drew out a small blanket and parcels wrapped in towels. Erik drew near, curious. She smiled up at him, pushing her long brown curls out of her way and patted the spot next to her.

"Papa thinks you're just a figment of my imagination, but I told him it was your birthday soon and I demanded a pay raise in my allowance." She said proudly. Her father was the Duke of York in England, but he'd sent Christine to Paris to study as a ballerina under Madam Giry.

She set out a bottle of apple cider, a few pastries, and finally some ham. Erik's mouth watered. It had been long since he'd had a meal like this. They ate quietly, Christine giving most of it to Erik claiming she already ate and this food was for him. Touched by her thoughtfulness, Erik ate his fill and saved the rest.

Next she drew out two other packages. One was large and barely fit in the basket while the other was smaller.

She handed him the smaller. "You know, I wish I could see your face." Erik stilled, hating this topic that so often came up in their conversation. "I hate that old nasty sack. So I got you this."

He opened it and inside was a delicate white mask. It shone in the candlelight and Erik was speechless.

"I hope you aren't offended or anything." Christine murmured.

"It's wonderful, Christine. I love it." Erik said with a small smile. She brightened up instantly. Erik felt his heart trip at that smile. No one ever smiled at him before Christine.

"Will you put it on?" she asked hopefully. With a knowing smile, Erik shook his head.

"I will have it on the next time you see me." Erik said softly. Deflated, Christine nodded. But quickly, she perked up again and handed him his next present.

"I know you like music. You always talk about how you want to learn." Christine said bashfully. Pulling the cloth off the gift, Erik was stunned.

It was a violin, with resin for the bow and all. It glistened in the candlelight, reflecting off the dark wood beautifully. Erik was once again without words.

"Oh dear, you don't like it. I knew I should have gone with that other one they had in the store," Christine fretted, knotting her dress in her small hands. Erik set the violin down carefully before engulfing Christine in a massive hug.

Christine quieted, before letting out a delighted squeal and hugged him back. His lean frame easily held her petit one against his. Erik could feel tears running down his cheeks. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, other than Christine. His passion for music was quickly refueling at the thought of having his very own violin.

"Thank you, Christine." Erik said softly. She pulled away and grinned.

"I'm so happy you like it, Erik. I was worried you wouldn't. I couldn't afford a case for it, but maybe I can get that for Christmas." She said joyfully. "I'll bring you some sheet music next time I come down." She offered. Erik could only nod. His ran his fingers lightly over the strings, excited to begin.

They talked into the night, whispering about their dreams in life.

"One day I want a family." Christine said, her eyes dreamy with the thought. "A large family and a big house with lots of windows." She said.

Erik quieted at the thought. Already sixteen, Erik had often thought of what it would be like to have a wife, to have those heated nights where love was made over and over again. But alas, that was to never be for him. His cursed face ensured that.

Christine gasped, an idea coming to her. "Oh, Erik, you should be my husband!" she cried. She clasped his hands in hers. Erik choked on cider and stared at her incredulously.

"What?" he gasped. She nodded.

"You're much better than that stupid peacock of a Chagny they want me to marry." She made a face.

Ah, Raoul de Chagny no doubt, Erik thought bitterly. Possessiveness rose inside him. Beautiful, pure Christine belonged to him and no one else. His fists clenched as anger clenched his throat. The idea of that pompous show off touching his Christine made him sick to his stomach.

"Erik? What's wrong? Do you not want to be my husband?" Christine asked, her lower lip trembling. Erik knew this as a sign she was about to cry.

"No, no Christine. It would make me very happy to be your husband." He corrected gently. Instantly, the tremor vanished and Christine smiled. Erik very much liked the fact that Christine wanted him as her husband, but he knew in time that would change. Her innocence was overwhelming her judgment. No one wanted to marry a monster like him.

Christine yawned and leaned against Erik. "Good. You're my very best friend, Erik. Papa always says it's important to marry your best friend." Her voice was soft as sleep began enveloping her in its embrace. Erik felt emotion welling up inside him. His arm wrapped around her small shoulders as her eyes closed and her breathing evened out.

Picking her up, he began taking her back to her room in the ballet quarters. His hands tightened around her frame protectively. He would never let anything get between them. Christine was everything to him.

Little did he know how that would soon change.

"But Madam Giry, I do not want to go!" Christine cried. Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped down her face. Madam Giry had just received a letter from Daae ordering the return of his daughter to England. The older woman patted her hand in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, my dear. Now go pack your things. A carriage is waiting for you." Madam Giry said, her tired face crinkling with a small smile. Christine let out a small sob and ran off.

It wasn't fair! Christine thought. She was to be separated from Erik for forever! She would never get to see him anymore.

She slammed her door closed and leapt onto her bed, burying her face in her arms before letting loose her sobs.

Chriiiistiiiine…

She sat up at the familiar song. It whispered across her senses and she instantly calmed. Erik was here. She rubbed her eyes and looked around.

Angel of Music, speak, I listen. She sang softly back. Singing was their special way of communicating when all other words failed. It was their link, something no one could take away from them.

Erik slipped into her room through a secret door. She launched herself into his arms. She gripped him tightly, and Erik's throat clenched. He had heard the conversation between her and Madam Giry. He had been angered beyond comprehensive thought. But knowing his moments with Christine were limited, he refrained from doing something he might regret.

He held the sobbing child in his arms, praying to whoever would listen that they be reunited soon. Christine pulled away, sorrow evident in her chocolate eyes.

She noticed he was wearing the mask she gave him. It was a little big, but for the first time she saw a portion of his face. He was handsome for someone who was shunned so. His dark hair was dirty and ratty but straight as a board and fell about his face in shaggy locks. His face was smooth, at least the portion she could see. But she could see the beginnings of stubble appear on his cheek. Then she saw his eyes. They were the strangest and most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen. One was blue and the other was green. She had never seen such a thing before.

Forgetting his mask and his face, Christine remembered why he was here.

"Erik, what if I never see you again?" she whimpered. Erik softly shushed her.

"You will. I'll always be here waiting for your return," he tried to calm her. She nodded.

"I promise I'll come back. I'll come back and then we can write music together like we always wanted." Christine vowed. Erik smiled, and Christine saw his smile for the first time. It was a sad smile, and she could almost see years of pain behind it, but it was still a smile and it delighted her.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed his exposed cheek. Erik paused and blushed. No one had ever kissed him before. Christine pulled away, ignorant of his reaction.

"I guess I have to pack now," she said sadly. Erik began to help her silently. They stayed together until the coachman came for her bags. Only then did Erik disappear through the secret door. Christine glanced back before she left hoping for another brief glance of him, but there was none. Sadly, she shuffled to the carriage and off the England.

there you are! reviews are very much appreciated.

LD