POTO Shorts-

I write shorts generally with all of my 'obsessions', like on my old S. N I wrote Ranma ½ ones. Anyhow these all were based on something, I'll tell you what before each. Some were written to

be funny, others reflective, a couple romantic and the rest who knows, huh?



The Portcullis-

I wrote this after seeing a pic of Erik, his back to the portcullis, his hands inside the diamond shaped spaces, it almost looked as if he had been thrown up against it. You don't see much of Christine in the pic, just her back and she appears to be running toward him. This is of course, of my own sick mind. I imagine it is from 'Music of the Night'

~

His hands inside the wiring he stared at her, breathless at the expression she wore. He tried to speak but words were lost, he had said a lot, maybe too much.

Christine watched him, thinking of his arm draped about her throat, she unconsciously touched the flesh, remembering the scent of his cologne as he was pressed behind her, singing to her.

His song had ended abruptly, as soon as he began to observe the sensual mood his voice put her into, he had backed against the metal, fearful that she may do something foolish not of her will, but the will born by his voice.

"Erik," She said softly. "I am no longer under any 'spell' of yours."

He stared at her. "Then why do you look at me that way? And how do you know my name?"

She chuckled stepping closer, delighting in the way he shivered as she did so. "I have my ways." She stepped up to him, tracing the linen of his shirt with her fingers.

"I'm sorry, that I'm not your Angel, but I had to have you sing for me..."

"Shhhh," She interrupted. "I understand. You're only human."

It was the first time anyone had dared call him anything but a monster, pleased he loosened his death grip on the iron and timidly reached for her. She accepted him, allowing him to take her by the waist and pull her to him.

Her mouth covered his before he could say anything, the warm gentle pressure of her lips intoxicating. Erik brought her even closer, deepening the kiss, savoring the moment. She reached up, tearing away most of his wrinkle free shirt ,the buttons flying everywhere, sliding her hands onto his flesh. He tore away her dressing gown, revealing the flimsy slave girl costume when a throat could be heard clearing on the other side of the wall of black.

They both turned to look simultaneously and Christine almost gasped as she saw Raoul, soaking wet from the lake, giving her a foul look.

"I've got my hat."


In the Still of the Night-

This is a bit reflective, it takes place when Christine goes home after Erik brings her back from the cellars in the ALW musical. NOT A SEQUEL TO THE PREVIOUS.

~

Christine pushed the window open, inhaling the cool morning air, sighing as the sun slowly rose in the east. She sat in the window-seat, watching the birds heads slowly pop up from their nests, a tear fell down her cheek.

She thought of his face as she ripped away his mask, what a fool she had been! Now she didn't know who he was, his name, why he was below the Opera with his talent and most of all if he would forgive her.

She thought of his distortion, realizing with great regret that it wasn't nearly that bad, just a few deep scar like gashes, the rest of his flesh well toned and smooth.

She imagined him without the disfigurement, and smiled, he would be a very handsome man. A man that adored her, a man that loved her. Now the image went back to the real one, and she knew he already was handsome, that nothing could make him more perfect.

Sweeping up her cloak she went out the door, determined to go back down, apologize and get to know him better.



More to come!