After three days, he no longer walked like a drunken sailor on shore leave, and pronounced himself fit enough to return to his classes. He had not seen Christine since her last visit to his home, and through the teacher grapevine, learned she was spending more time in de Chagny's company. To his deep regret, there were no more cozy evenings in front of the fire, no dinners cooked as they listened to music, and no playing her favorite pieces on the piano as she sat curled up in a chair.
There was no more of her gentle teasing that he had come to expect. And cherish.
The concert he had recorded for the two of them, he was forced to watch alone.
Phoning her was an exercise in futility- his calls went to voicemail and forlornly sat there, shoved in with the rest of the abandoned messages she would never return. What was also disconcerting- she no longer had lunch with him in one or the others' office where they could relax a bit over a quick sandwich and coffee. In the past, she had always made time for him, often forgetting their tight schedules as they fell into one of their friendly arguments usually centered in musical theatre, but those days were also gone. She would spy him striding toward her in the halls and reverse course, making good her escape, but one afternoon he finally managed to corner her and his fit of pique at her shabby treatment was regrettable as well as unstoppable.
"Well, Professor Daae...not quite fast enough today giving me the slip, were you?"
"I have no idea what you are alluding to, Professor Navarre," she said stiffly.
"Does running the other way ring any bells for you?" alarmed by this coolly polite woman.
"I do have a tendency to hurry when I'm late, Erik, and if you don't mind, you are about to make me late again!" she snapped. "I have an important meeting in the production department, so if you'll excuse me-"
"No. I will not." He glanced down the long hallway. "But, I see what you mean," his tone altogether too friendly. "Of course you'll be late. since the stage happens to be the other way, as you well know. Try another one, dear girl."
And he waited, in no hurry to go anywhere until she answered him.
Galled by his presumption, she said churlishly, "I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about, Erik, so if you don't mind, you can just stop looming over me and get out of my way!"
"What's wrong, Christine?" his gentle concern pulling her up short. It was not a tone she heard often from the taciturn man.
"N-Nothing." she said defensively.
"Then why am I seeing less of you? If it's something I've done, then please accept my heartfelt apology. I miss my friend," his eyes troubled as they searched hers.
"Nothing. It's nothing." She made good her escape, leaving him to stare gloomily after her.
This body of evidence led him to one glaring conclusion- she had been frightened off by his hellish face. Christine had finally had enough of the ugly creature she once called friend and replaced him with another.
He was miserable.
So when several of the other teachers made certain he knew Christine had accepted a weekend invitation to visit de Chagny's large opulent home in the country, Erik was terrified he was about to lose her forever.
He was forced to act.
Christine calmly took her neatly folded underthings from the laundry basket and placed them in a drawer, her serene air completely bogus. She felt wound up and on edge, and the reason was more than obvious to her. Yet try though she might, she couldn't convince a certain gentleman to vacate the comfortable niche he occupied inside of her head and leave her the hell alone. She removed a pair of jeans from the wicker basket and stood clutching them in one hand, staring pensively at the back wall until she saw double. "Ooh... that man!" and hurled the jeans in frustration at the upholstered chair sitting innocently in its corner.
"Tut tut. Is that any way to treat your clothes?"
She jumped upon hearing that compelling voice, as if he had been able to breach her tangled thoughts and become flesh and blood and bone. She whirled around to find him leaning against the doorjamb watching her.
"What man, if I may ask?"
"You may not! Now, just what do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me like that?" she said irritably. "If I'd had a gun, I would have shot you for an intruder!"
"Then I am profoundly grateful that you abhor the things." Erik nodded at the soft fall of hair to her shoulders. "You should wear it like that more often. It suits you."
"What do you want?"
"Since you have no time for me anymore, I had to make some of my own."
"Ever hear of that dandy new invention of Bell's? It's called the telephone."
"Wonderful, is it not? And it works too, as long as the recipient on the other end follows through and performs the second component of that dandy new invention. In plain English... returning the call." He straightened up and advanced on her. "Why are you avoiding me?"
"I-I've been busy. End of term exams are coming, as you well know," Christine replied waspishly, standing her ground.
He came to a halt a foot from her. "It has nothing to do with what you were unfortunate enough to see?"
His eyes were focused and intent, head cocked to the side in that curious bird-like scrutiny which he could command. It nearly always made her fidget, and nearly always made her feel empathy with his students. "See? What... oh! No, no, no, Erik," putting both hands up as though trying to forcefully shove his accusation away. "That would be entirely ridiculous of me, now wouldn't it? I've known for two years that you wear the mask for a reason! It makes absolutely no difference in our friendship, if that's what you mean."
He saw the truth of it in her eyes, and his knees of a sudden felt weak. However, it did not address their immediate problem. Which could only mean one other thing. "Gadding about with an old... acquaintance has nothing to do with it either, I trust? He seems to be living in your pocket these days."
She turned and made a show of folding her jeans neatly over the chairback, not looking at him. "Well, what's not to like there, Erik? He's got money and looks."
"So do I," he said bluntly. "You simply never specified how much or what kind."
"I'm having fun," ignoring him. "I've spent far too many years pursuing a career, and forgetting there's more to life than academia. I want more...I want a husband...children, maybe."
"I thought we were having fun, dear girl! You always seemed to enjoy my company, strange as that seems! What has changed?" The bottom had dropped out of his stomach when she spoke of marriage to de Chagny, and he wondered if he was having a relapse. He felt slightly nauseous, his eyes watering as though trying to hold in a violent sneeze.
"Raoul mentioned a trip to Europe," she returned casually, conveniently skipping over his question. She finally looked at him. "Europe! Can you imagine? I've always wanted to go, but I just never got around to it. Too busy with a career and forgetting how to have a good time, but that's about to change."
"Yes, and the two of you no doubt sleeping in the same room...the...the same bed," his words causing a pain to knife straight through him. The image of her in the arms of another, was a torture his insidious mind provided so very easily.
Christine tossed her head. "What's it to you, Erik?"
"We could go to Europe. Anywhere, really, as long as we go together."
"I've known you for two years now, and you've never wanted more than what you have now. Meals at each others' homes, an occasional concert. You take one trip per year, and have never intimated that you wished to spend it with me.
"We are in a rut. You see me as a...a friend, a sidekick only, and not a very close one at that, or you wouldn't have pushed me away like you did when you were sick!"
"Push you away? Why would... I never pushed you away!" he sputtered.
"You most certainly did, Erik! I wanted to...to take care of you, and you told me in no uncertain terms to leave!" Her hurt from his rejection was finally seeing the light of day...
...and its harsh glare was blinding him.
"Well, of course I did!" his voice filled with indignation, and a morsel of admiration for Khan. The Persian had told him that exact thing. Christine had expected to nurse him through the illness and he had denied her that luxury. He couldn't wrap his mind around the thought of anyone, let alone this lovely lady... "Why would I want the woman... the woman that I..."
She raised an eyebrow. "The woman that you what?"
"Was that picture really necessary?" he said quickly, diverting her attention to the eight by ten of him seated at the piano in his study.
"It was if I wanted to capture a virtuoso at home!" declared Christine, and to a bemused Erik, making him sound like an exceedingly rare and nearly extinct branch of H. sapien. "It's actually quite nice, and I needed a picture of my...my friend."
"But why do you have it beside your bed?" eying the picture with distaste. He was in profile, looking like an angular smear of black, his pale hands poised like claws over the keys. Aside from the lifelike mask that showed a long narrow nose that in truth he didn't possess, and lips so thin they barely existed, oddly enough, he looked vaguely normal, albeit a very thin normal. Like a shadow, he was.
"That's the picture I took of you with my phone last year, remember?"
"Yes, I remember. I wouldn't wish this miserable bit of protoplasm on anyone, and you keep a picture of it beside your bed! How many pretty dreams do you have with it so close to your pillow?" His agile mind was delighting in showing him a sleep warmed Christine, hair tousled and eyes looking drowsily up at him. He would lean down, as both hands cradled her head, fingers sinking into her hair, lips waiting, welcoming the touch of his...
"...surprised at the dreams I have, Erik!" her mood and tone defiant. "Are you even listening to me? You are my dearest friend and I wanted to care for you as you cared for me. What is so horrible about that?"
"Because what is repulsive in a healthy state is much worse when it is ill. My tendency is to hide like a wounded animal until it passes, Christine, and I certainly do not permit your dainty hands to touch what has become even more loathsome."
"You are not and never have been loathsome to me! How absurd you are!
"And my hands are anything but dainty, you silly man! I would have done a much better job caring for you than Khan did, and be a lot more cheerful doing it," she added vehemently.
"Dear me... but you are confident in your nursing abilities, aren't you? But then again, I suppose I'd have to agree." He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her with a slightly wounded air. "Although to think that you consider our association to be no more than a friendly rut, cuts deep."
"Oh, stuff it!" she said, exasperated. "I have always enjoyed our quiet pursuits, and you know it! I can think of nothing which pleases me more.
"And before you say anything else, I know how difficult it must be to navigate through a curious and sometimes hostile world... I'm sure it's much easier to be yourself without constantly feeling prying eyes on you! I understand that, and I have always admired your courage to live your life in the open as much as you do. I-I could never do what you have accomplished," her voice growing softer, "but you're basically a child of the dark and have no need to rectify that. Least of all for me."
"I'm not sure what led you to this conclusion. It is true that I prefer far less people than is good for a college professor, and I have no real use for daytime pursuits, but I thought we have done very well with our friendship."
"You feel no kindred of souls between yours and mine," she protested. "Friends, yes, but so you are with Nadir...in some ways, maybe closer."
"You are very wrong about that, Christine, as I am quite certain our souls have more in common than you think."
"Perhaps," she returned unconvinced, "but I don't think we'll ever be much more than what we are now to each other," and he wondered at the sense of frustration bleeding into her tone. "You never answered my question, Erik. Why are you here?" slightly uneasy from the gleam in his eyes that was vaguely disturbing.
"Why?" he answered pleasantly, thinking on the fly, and when the light bulb went off in his head, said confidently...
"Because I am kidnapping you."
"You're mad! I have things to do," Christine seethed, staring hard at Erik as he turned into the parking lot of Ruby Gardens where a small fair had been set up. She could see the twinkling lights of the Ferris wheel as it revolved lazily against its backdrop of deep navy sky. They got out of the car, Erik taking her by the elbow and walking in the general direction of the lights.
"I promise to return you by midnight."
"Or what, fairy godmother? I'll turn into a pumpkin?"
"That's my girl!" her abductor said approvingly. "There's that sense of humor I have always admired in you."
Christine rolled her eyes. "I'm not amused though. Why do this? Couldn't you simply have invited me?"
He felt better not looking at her. "I'm very sure you would only have declined."
She pointedly cleared her throat. "I'd like an answer or is this a guessing game?"
He shook his head, still refusing to look at her. "I miss my fr... I miss you."
"So you insisted that I accompany you to an amusement park to ride the Ferris wheel just to prove that you miss me?" her voice climbing in disbelief.
"No."
"No?"
"We are going roller skating first."
"Are you nuts?"
He tilted his head and considered it. "Possibly."
"B-B-But I don't know how!"
He shrugged. "Neither do I."
"You're crazy, do you realize that, Erik? I-I'll break something!"
"I am out of my comfort zone," he explained patiently. "Shouldn't you be? You implied I was altogether too sober. Boring. In a rut..."
"Yes, yes. I get the picture!" rudely interrupting him.
"... so I decided to challenge that with entertainment to be had after dark.
"Since you label me as a child of the night," he added, finally deigning to look at her.
"Not if it's at the expense of my tailbone!"
"Trust me."
Which is how she found herself on skates, one hand clutching the wooden railing, her nails gouging divots in the wood. Her other hand was swallowed in Erik's large one as he coaxed her to let go and join him on the rink floor.
"Come along now, Christine. I thought you were dying to have fun?" he said, a touch mordantly.
"Yes, but without actually doing it! I'll likely break my neck." she fumed.
"Trust me?"
"Yes, you already said that. Trust? I suppose I should, but it would mean more if you did the same where I am concerned."
"I trust you," his voice very very soft. "Even after you took that picture of me with your phone."
"Believe it or not, Erik, I love that picture."
"Yes, I'm sure that's why you keep it by your bed."
"Well, why else would I keep it there?" she rejoined, exasperated with him.
"I find it very hard to accept my gruesome countenance being the last thing you wish to see before you shut your eyes every night," clearly not impressed.
"Oh? Is that why you insisted I leave you when you were ill? Because you aren't dear enough to me to care that you are sick? Nadir told me you were alone all night and well into the next day. It pains me to think of you ailing and helpless and it's all your fault!"
He snorted at this. "It no doubt is, but I was never helpless, Christine. You see me alive and well now, do you not?"
"I wanted to take care of you," she insisted stubbornly. "You did for me as I recall."
"Again with this?" He let out an exasperated breath. "Very well. The next time I feel feverish, you shall be the first to know. Now listen to your doctor, and come with me. The exercise will do you good."
She bravely let go of the wall and teetered on her skates, now both of her hands swallowed in his. "Don't kid yourself! You're a doctor of music, Erik. You can do amazing things with a sick melody line, but that's as far as your expertise extends," and squeaked when her jeans clad leg started to vacillate wildly, her nails biting into the scant flesh of his palms.
"Then consider yourself an ailing nocturne requiring my... expertise," wincing as he righted her.
"Well, I suppose I must. After all, you are my kidnapper," she said prosaically, but he was gratified to see her smothering a grin on that delectable mouth he so longed to kiss.
"Yes. Listen to your captor," he admonished. "You'll see. I won't let any harm come to you. I swear it!"
"Ooh...all right, you lunatic, but if you let me fall, I'm taking you down with me!"
Christine took small choppy steps, feeling ridiculous as they both wobbled their way around the eight thousand square foot rink on the twelve by twelve interlocking plastic tiles. The rink with benches scattered around its circumference and a snack bar tucked away at one end, was set up for the summer season and taken down when the days shortened toward fall.
Kids no more than seven or eight, whizzed by them, closely followed by a mix of young and old, some to Christine's chagrin, skating backward much easier than she was doing going forward. Her companion seemed to have got the hang of it, as he held her securely upright, one spindly arm about her waist, keeping her snugly against his side as they made their cautious way around the rink.
"Hey, you idiots! You nearly-" a couple of students from Ravenwood toed to a stop just before they plowed into the two teachers tottering across their path. "Professor Daae! Um... I never thought I'd see you here with... oh, ah...hello, sir," Gareth Jones quickly switched his tone to polite when Erik turned a jaundiced eye on him.
"You find us to be something less than perspicacious, do you, Jones?"
"No, sir. Not at all...just not very good on wheels."
Christine choked on a laugh when Erik rolled an eye her way. "It's all right Gareth. There are some things we're not very good at," and steadied herself by clutching a handful of Erik's coat, "this happens to be one of them."
Jone's companion, a young woman with a mane of red hair and freckles to match, smiled sympathetically. "My mom can't skate either. The one time she did, she was dumped on her ass...I mean her butt, more times than I could count."
"We have no intention of doing the same," Erik declared in no uncertain terms. "I do believe we have the general principles of skating now."
"If you say so...sir," Gareth answered soberly as he lied, hard put not to laugh; the two professors had a lot in common with pigs on ice. "At least you're dressed to the teeth to do it. Sir," skeptically eying Erik's out of place suit and tie.
"There should be a little dignity involved when finding yourself abruptly sitting down when everyone else is standing up!" Christine said with a nervous laugh as the older man opened his mouth to reply. She was fairly certain it wasn't going to be a referral to Erik's tailor.
"Sure sure," the boy said, as he nudged his girlfriend and whispered, "what's next... bungee jumping?"
"Conceivably," Erik smirked unpleasantly, his acute hearing the bane of students everywhere, "once we've mastered skating and require more fun."
"And I'll bet you nail that the same way, professor," Gareth said, backing slowly away from them. Erik's grim mouth had the look of a man longing to take a bite out of something- or someone, and Jones unconsciously began humming the theme to Jaws beneath his breath. He gave the teachers a hesitant salute and the pair took off, fairly dancing their way around the rink.
"That student of yours is far too cheeky," Erik muttered.
"That is a lovely suit, doc, but you are a little overdressed, don't you think? Something a little more casual maybe?"
He took her arm firmly and tucked it through his. "No, I do not, Christine, and I am certain you would not want to see me dressed in that!" flicking a contemptible finger at the retreating Jones dressed in baggy green shorts and a yellow tee shirt which read, Five Finger Death Punch.
She put a hand over her mouth to stop the giggle, but gave it up as a lost cause. The image of her lanky and reserved friend showing his no doubt bony knees and pipe stem legs, was too much for her sense of the ridiculous. "Okay... not that exactly, but perhaps a little less formal.. and dark. Some color now and then won't hurt you."
"Yes, you may laugh at your Erik, but I am doing you a favor by not revealing my limbs, so please be good enough to acknowledge my consideration for your... sensibilities," his lips curling up slightly.
"Oh, but I think you would look dashing!" and laughed at his loud snort. It suddenly occurred to her that she was having a wonderful time. She nodded at Gareth and his girlfriend as they passed them for the second time. "They skate beautifully, don't they, Erik?" Christine said wistfully as she watched them.
He started them moving again. "Probably been on skates before they were out of diapers," he retorted peevishly, picking up their own speed a little. They were even managing to keep a nice balance, and Erik glanced down lovingly at the top of her head. "See, Christine? Now, isn't this enjoyable?"
She nodded cautiously, relaxing a little in the mild evening air scented with growing things, the deep inverted bowl of the night sky arched over their heads as she basked in his touch. She tilted her head back, more to view the clusters of stars, than to rest against him (or so she told herself) and realized too late that they were not quite as stable as she had thought.
Erik scrambled to keep his balance, his treacherous legs going in different directions. It was utterly thick-headed of him to believe he could balance his spider's length on wheels with ball bearings. He felt like a giraffe must feel as it got used to standing on those impossibly long legs that permitted them to get the choicest leaves from the top of the tree. Gradually though, disaster was averted as he slowly brought himself upright while hanging on to his beloved, but just as he was congratulating himself, Christine panicked and began flapping her arms like a frightened bird startled into flight.
Down they went, his only concern to make sure she had a softer landing than he did, which meant that he bore the brunt of the hard floor. Erik grunted as she landed on top of him, their legs tangled together, while skaters parted around them, like water around a boulder in the middle of the stream.
He was dismayed when he looked down at Christine, her shoulders quaking and noises of distress coming from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"
She said nothing while he tenderly straightened her glasses which were hanging from one ear, and when he was done she promptly burrowed her face into his waistcoat and started to cry in earnest.
"Christine! Are you hurt? Answer me, damn you!" he growled, fear rampant in his voice. "Oh, this is all my fault! I will never attempt to have fun again. It's far too dangerous!" he moaned, and began feeling her limbs looking for injury.
She at last managed to shake her head, before collapsing weakly against his thin chest. "E-Erik!" she sputtered. "If you could only hear yourself! I just adore your sweet talk!" she laughed, sobering a little as she looked up and caught the glare of murder he threw her way. "My God, we must look a sight!" hard put to stop the breathless laughter shaking her small frame. "I only pray none of our students saw how easily we toppled! Especially after you informed them that we were quite good at this."
"You frightened ten years off my life, you wicked woman!" he snapped, arms nevertheless cradling her close.
"Serves you right! Abduction and bruises in the same night. For shame!" and tapped him lightly on his bony chin.
"You have no bruises, you little fraud! I didn't fall on you...you fell on me!"
"You two okay down there?" a gruff voice from above asked, and they glanced up. A man and woman, both appearing well into their twilight years, stood looking at the couple still sprawled on the rink floor.
"Peachy," Christine said with a laugh. "It's our first time," she stated proudly.
"You don't say?" the elderly man replied, calmly surveying the painfully thin fella wearing a false face. Kids these days would do anything to get noticed. "Well, first time or not, you're supposed to kiss her now." It was obvious to him that the poor sucker was head over heels in love with the little lady. "Come on, mother. They'll figure it out," and took off, the old couple rolling along gracefully.
"Yes, thank you for all your help," Erik muttered after them, afraid to look at Christine.
She waited for an inestimable moment, sneaking peeks at her companion. "Up and at 'em, professor," she said at last with a resigned sigh. "Git back on that horse and ride."
"I think I broke my hip," he complained with a wince, knowing he had forfeited a rare chance to do what he'd longed to do for months...years. One kiss. Which may have become several. Disgusted with himself, he slowly unfolded his limbs and stood up. Bracing himself, he bent down and grasped Christine's elbows, and little by little, his feet planted at right angles, safely pulled her up to a standing position. Holding on to her, they carefully started moving again. "Come, I'll get you off of here without any further injury to my pride or your bones!"
"Only my funny bone, doc. We're here...let's do this." Christine cautiously slipped her arm around his narrow waist as they held each other up. "You went to all this trouble to snatch me, the least I can do is make it worth your while. We'll make two revolutions, and then we can honorably stop. What's next?"
"The Ferris wheel."
"Uh uh."
"No Ferris wheel?"
"Not until I have cotton candy."
Christine shivered in the cooler night air, and tugged her pink sweater closer. Wordlessly, Erik removed his jacket and draped it carefully around her.
Her protest was only halfhearted. "You might need this more than me," eying her friend's gaunt frame.
"Nonsense. I might look like an errant breeze could knock me over, but I'm really quite hale and hearty."
She grabbed his hand and held on to it. "You've only recently got over the flu."
They were beginning their first rotation of the Ferris wheel when she turned to him and said quietly, "The stars are so bright I feel I could almost reach out and touch one."
This close, he could smell her light perfume, his pitiful nose inhaling deeply to get even more of her sweetness, his gaze fascinated by her lips, tender and rosy and glistening in the lights of the immense wheel. As she talked, Erik's thoroughly willful arm crept up and shyly placed itself around her shoulders. "For warmth," he said gruffly, holding his breath, fearing she would throw off his gentle embrace.
She did nothing of the kind.
He found her head resting against his shoulder before a minute had gone by, and was confounded when she snuggled a cheek into the soft folds of his jacket.
She inhaled deeply. It smelled like him... a good clean male scent coupled with the aromatic tobacco from the occasional cigar he smoked.
"I prefer this much more than roller skating," she murmured contentedly.
He took a deep breath and expelled it into the night air, making up his mind before he lost his nerve. "I am going to kiss you now, Christine," he informed her. "As your abductor, I insist." His magnificent voice was deep and beguiling, and if there was a thread of anxiety present, he buried it beneath the mountain of desire he had fought with- forever it seemed. One long finger found itself resting beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his.
She had closed her eyes in anticipation, and parted her lips, smiling at the announcement of his intention. It was so very much Erik. She felt the edge of the mask scraping softly across her upper lip, his touch was feather light, mouth brushing experimentally across hers, ready to pull away if she showed the slightest discomfort.
She did not.
His heart felt a stutter of happiness, ballooning quickly into a euphoria he had never known before. His mouth settled fully onto hers, and began moving, tasting lips made only sweeter for the pink candy floss she had eaten. How could a mouth and a small hand caressing the back of his neck, bring such fierce joy...he would never know.
His first real kiss. On the lips. He was sure that as high as they were, he was that much closer to Heaven with the warm treasured weight of her in his arms. He wanted only to stay here with Christine, riding this marvelous conveyance forever. To the stars and back they would go, their feet never again touching the surly earth, remaining locked in each others' arms where no hurt, no distractions, and no misunderstandings could ever separate them.
When he reluctantly pulled away from her, she regarded him with tender eyes, her hand stroking the cheek of his mask. "That was lovely, dear. May I have another?"
He could only manage a nod, as he kissed her again, his mouth pressing firmly to hers, Christine's arms sheltering him in a tight hold. There they stayed until the further slowing of the giant wheel brought the ride to an end.
The return to earth, took away the confidence that the starry sky and privacy had afforded them, and silently he led her to the parking lot and home. Numerous times, he had nearly blurted out his love for her, the image of her looking back at him in puzzlement, stopping him. He had no claims on her; playful kidnapping aside, he wanted to keep her in his life, not push her out of it. It was better to wait and see how she processed his fumbling attempt at kissing before declaring himself. She seemed to enjoy it, but reading Christine's mind was not his strong suit. Although after tonight, his fledgling hope was allowing him the tiny belief that she would call off her visit to de Chagny and take away the gnawing ache dead center in his chest.
When he walked her to her door after the mostly quiet ride home, Erik took the house key from her hand and slid it into the lock, before turning to her.
"You've been a good sport tonight, Christine. Humoring an old man and his odd notions of fun as you have. Will I see you tomorrow?" doggedly waiting for her to declare de Chagny null and void for the chance to spend the weekend with her friend.
"Perhaps," secretly hopeful that he would kiss her again and plead with her to cancel the trip. She was disappointed when he did no such thing.
If only he wasn't such a coward, he would demand that she send her regrets to the Patron Saint and remain with him. If only. He stared at her mouth, wondering if he dared press her for another kiss. Erik muttered a hasty goodnight, his lanky strides, taking him rapidly down the walk.
She watched thoughtfully as he climbed into his car and left the curb, staring at the car's taillights winking red at the end of her street, before the darkness swallowed him up.
"For a highly intelligent man, doc, you're awfully stupid."
Lacking in confidence when it came to matters of the heart, he had no idea how much she loved him. Needed him. Demanded that he need her.
It was high time she showed the professor.
He had driven past Christine's house numerous times, and with each pass felt worse. So she had decided against staying home, he thought morosely, for the neat little bungalow appeared to be in stasis, as all houses are while awaiting the return of lights and movement. The resumption of life. Her life.
It flitted across his mind to simply find de Chagny's house himself, and investigate the proceedings. If things appeared to be spinning out of control, he could...
He came back to awareness of how crazy that would appear.
It would be crazy...
...for Christine had no intentions of tangling her life with de Chagny's. She had thought nothing of him for years, it seemed, so why start now? He wasn't her type, really, although he was handsome in a shallow, I-don't-let-my-brains-do-the-thinking kind of way.
Which did nothing for his own insecurity concerning Christine.
Erik was fairly certain he wasn't her type either.
His attempt at taking her on a date had been feeble at best. She had been very tolerant about the roller skating, and even the kiss he had insisted he give her. It had meant everything to Erik, but by the time Christine had spent an hour in de Chagny's company, she would have forgotten all about him. Despondency led Erik back to Ravenwood and to his office, where he settled behind his desk and caught up on some paperwork.
If his mind wasn't fully engaged with his work, Erik at least pretended it was, head bent, fingers massaging his temples as he worked out evaluations of each of his students to add to their final grade. "No time like the present, eh? I'm not exactly a social butterfly like some I could name, Mr. Raoul de Chagny," his voice producing a soft hiss of frustration. The sound of his door opening, forced him to look up. He was startled to find Christine staring back at him.
"I thought you left for the weekend," had slipped out of his mouth, while his inner anxiety unwound like a rubber band, releasing some of the choke-hold on his emotions. All by virtue of her presence.
"I considered it," she airily replied, walking leisurely over to his desk and perching on the edge of it.
He observed her approach with narrowed eyes, as she sashayed...sashayed? across the room, her hips seeming to undulate as she walked (stalked), and he was flabbergasted when she treated him to the barest glimpse of smooth thigh as her black skirt hiked up. With a ragged sigh, he leaned back in his chair, regarding her warily. "Why...?" Too hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Why do I hear a but in there?" Much better.
Christine reached out and casually loosened the knot in his tie. "But, I'm here instead. Want to know why?" as one deft finger slipped into the knot and gave it a gentle tug. She bestowed a few light strokes to his suddenly busy Adam's apple, before lazily sliding the tie from his collar with a slight rasp of fabric, the sound to his ears, very intimate. Sexual. He swallowed again, and watched in bemusement as she tossed it carelessly onto the desk.
"There. You look more... relaxed. We have to work on your wardrobe, doc. Get you loosened up a little and wearing much. less. clothing," she whispered in such a way, he felt a shiver of anticipation like a lick of febrile heat down his back. "Oops. Mustn't forget these little guys," and popped the first two buttons on his shirt.
She swiped her tongue over moist pink lips, his eyes helplessly tracking the movement of her mouth. He wrenched his gaze away to stare dumbly at his silk tie coiled like a black snake on the blotter. Erik's mouth hung partly open as she smoothed a hand down his chest several times, eliciting a tiny moan from him.
"Why?" he croaked, as he sat there, entirely enthralled by the small determined woman raising his blood pressure with hardly any effort at all.
"Why?" Christine leaned toward him, halting just shy of his mouth. "Because I am kidnapping you."
Erik's abduction began with tickets to the Rialto Theatre which showed vintage movies on the weekends, and that evening's offering was the film Moonstruck. Christine considered it an excellent choice due to their recent nighttime activities, so armed with a drink and popcorn, she snuggled into her abductee's side.
"Why, Christine?" he hissed.
"Why what, Erik?"
"Why did you abduct me?"
"Well, why did you abduct me?"
Silence greeted her, and her hand inched down to take his. "Come on. Don't be shy. It's a simple question which requires a simple answer."
"You were avoiding me, and I was tired of it," his tone one of long-suffering torment, and to Christine, completely endearing.
"That's all?"
"Yes."
"How many times?"
"At the risk of sounding repetitive... how many times what?"
"You know exactly to what I refer, don't you, Erik?"
"I would tell you the answer to that if I knew the question," he sniffed, gathering his tattered dignity around him like a well worn coat, although he had a suspicion of what she referred to. He observed her guardedly, helpless to stop the rising certainty that she was having him on, his eyes flicking from side to side, looking for the shadow of someone leaning forward to share in her little joke.
Christine watched him climb on that high horse of his that she considered nothing short of adorable.
She must be in love.
The gleam in her eye matched his as she smiled affectionately. "How many times did you drive by my house?"
"You are an evil woman."
"How many?" Christine insisted.
"Once," his voice low and soft.
"Add two more to that and I'll believe you, Erik."
"You were spying on me," he accused.
"And you were not? I was standing at the window as you drove by."
"The house was completely dark, Christine," he weakly protested, while admiring her sneakiness.
"Yes, I know," she said in triumph.
He slid his long frame down in the seat.
Her hand slipped to his knee, squeezing it gently. "Are you enjoying the movie, doc?"
"I am thoroughly enjoying your company. Will that suffice? You are the most-" nearly gasping, as her fingers stroked a little further up his thigh. His heart complied with those questing fingers, leaping madly into the steeple chase, and he rolled his eyes up at her. She was hellbent on murdering him tonight, and sighed in a mix of pleasure and longing.
She took a sip of her drink, her right hand lazily giving Erik's thigh another squeeze. "Suffice, Erik?" and thought about her answer.
"For now."
"I will not dance, Christine. Perhaps another movie?"
"I'll teach you. It's easy."
"I didn't say I couldn't. I said I wouldn't."
She tilted her head at him, one slender finger resting on her chin. "You forced me to skate, so the least you can do is dance with me," she wheedled. "It's a fine activity for friends to get even... closer, and there's no falling down involved."
The image of closer as she had stated it in that throaty feminine purr, reached out and grabbed him, gaining the attention of certain areas of his anatomy that had been neglected for far too long.
His libido decided for him. "I think we should give it a go," he found himself uttering like a love sick fool.
He was a love sick fool.
But when he led her onto the dance floor below the painted backdrop of an intensely yellow harvest moon, he took her willing body into his arms, his feet beginning to move to a slow, sweet melody. He warmed to the music and to her heat, not minding being made a fool at all.
Christine rested her cheek against his shoulder, both arms wrapped around him as they shuffled their way round the dance floor. She began to hum along with the song the band was performing. My Eyes Adored You.
"Yes, they do," she murmured, gazing devotedly up at him.
"Do what?" he whispered, afraid to disturb this sublime moment.
"Nothing. But I have to admit, there is something to be said for evening pursuits such as these. I can get used to chasing moonbeams with you. We learned how to roller skate and rode the Ferris wheel. I can even think of a few more entertainments we might enjoy when the lights are... way down low."
The galloping horse in his chest sailed high over the hedge, and flew to the finish line.
"Just one thing I'd like to know, professor," her hand caressing his back in a way that soothed and excited him. "Would you have abducted me if there had been no invitation from Raoul?"
He thought about his answer, finally conceding, "No, although I would have reacted to anyone trying to steal you away from me. It was only a matter of time before I worked up the courage to...to... tell you..." and he leaned down, deciding it was time to roll the dice. His faith that her heart wouldn't needlessly trample his, permitted him to whisper the secret he had kept safely hidden away for two long years.
And was rewarded for his conviction.
"I love you too," she whispered back.
Erik rubbed a cool silicone cheek against her soft one. "All this time, dear one? We have wasted all this time when we each knew how we felt?" They had stopped in a dim corner of the dance floor and his hands cupped her face between trembling palms.
His kiss was achingly tender... so very all-consuming, as he physically conveyed the love and devotion he had kept secreted away in his heart. Yet for all that, she perceived a holding back on his part- a barely held in check ardor that would sweep them both up in its intensity. She felt it reverberating in every cell of her being, and when he at last pulled back from her, she reasoned that if the world slipped off its axis at this very moment, she would nevertheless die happy in his arms.
He allowed his eyes to leisurely roam over her face, mapping every beloved inch of it. He kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers this time, before he decided they had given everyone in the club enough of a show for one evening. Erik got them moving again in another slow dance, this time Dreaming of You.
Yes, he was.
"You really are brilliant, you know," she murmured. "Your abduction was a stroke of genius, but so was that nasty rumor I started." She chuckled when he stiffened in her arms.
"Nasty... rumor?" his voice a soft growl.
"Um...how do I put this without sounding like I hoodwinked you? Let's see. Umm...there was no invitation from Raoul. I made it up and told Meg. She in turn, being the Grapevine de la Creme, told the faculty and Nadir, who proceeded to spread it further around school, which took off like the wildest wildfire, and thence into the receptive ear of my music man."
"Why?" his hand tightening possessively on her slender waist.
"Well, I hate to answer your question with a question, doc, but what did you do when you heard that rumor?"
"Attempted to change your mind," he answered promptly, feeling immense satisfaction that she had hoodwinked him.
"Which means we were both working toward the same goal and didn't know it!" She sighed happily. "What was your next move?"
He frowned, not following her. "Next?"
"Are you completely new to this?"
"New to what?"
"For lack of a better term...boy girl stuff."
"To give you a concise answer...yes. How can you think otherwise?" he sniffed disparagingly.
"You mean you never had relationships with other women?"
Two bright spots of hectic color bloomed on ravaged cheeks, and for this one moment in time, he was glad for the mask. I am too old and far too ugly to blush. "Relationships counted in minutes, if that is helpful to you.
"But I haven't for a very long time," he confessed.
She felt saddened by this, but she would change this sorry state of affairs, and love him within an inch of his life. She had managed to have a few relationships over the years; never lasting ones, but at least she had dipped her toes at one time or another. She had always moved on though, never feeling like she had found the right man for her- the right fit. She would shoe horn them into her life, but after a few months...after a few feeble attempts to build up a rapport, she hadn't minded at all when one or the other of them broke it off. Until now. Erik was the one man who didn't have to wedge himself into her life- his fit was smooth and seamless.
He would be a dry husk of a man by the time she was through with him.
And that was only their first time.
After that, they would take things nice and easy.
Her fingers slid through the short hairs at his nape and Christine smiled when he shivered in reaction.
"I went out with Raoul to make you jealous," she confessed.
"It worked," he admitted.
"I know," she said archly.
"It would seem, my darling that we are both guilty of criminal behavior, and in light of our successful attempts at kidnapping, I say we put ourselves on house arrest.
"Together."
"I concur," she responded, feeling breathless and deeply in love. She raised her fingers to his masked cheek and kissed his chin. "Oh, I certainly do." Christine bit her lip. "Although, you should know, I still intend to visit Europe someday."
"Well then, may I join you? Oh, say... next month for two weeks?" holding his breath for her answer.
"Finally. An offer from you I simply cannot refuse!" and the tremulous smile she gave Erik, had him wishing he'd made the offer a lot sooner. "Where do we start?"
Erik buried his masked face in Christine's hair, his atypical nose busily cataloging her floral scent, wishing he could lay his naked cheek against hers. It would seem now, he could never get close enough. "How does two weeks in Vienna suit you?"
He had rendered her speechless.
The usually demure professor's arms wound tightly around his neck, as she fairly vibrated with suppressed excitement, which made Erik exceedingly glad they were no longer on skates. It could have been an unmitigated disaster.
He decided then and there to surprise her more often.
"I once did a thesis in grad school on Neo-Renaissance style architecture and its influence on musical theatre," she told him. "I would love to visit the opera house since it's a very good example of that. What do you say, doc? I can get some travel brochures and we can read up on the city."
"That won't be necessary," he murmured, lovingly combing thin fingers through her hair. "If you will allow me to be your guide, we can visit anywhere you care to go. As you say, the opera would be an excellent place to start. And I will take you to the Prater, Christine. You will love the Wiener Riesenrad." At her look of bemusement, his lips twisted into an affectionate smile, the expression sitting oddly on his face. Wide smiles were not Erik's forte. "Ferris wheel, and after the other night, a ride of which I am particularly fond."
"As long as I'm with you, I don't care what we do. But how about some strudel?" she teased.
"Consider it done."
"And schnitzel."
He laughed, the deep resonating quality of it startling the couples around them. Especially the women. "That, as well. As much as you would like. May I also recommend the spatzle?"
They had been swaying dream-like to another slow number, but the tempo had changed and those around them were now jiving to hip-hop. Neither one of the strange couple gave it any mind, as they remained locked in each others' arms, the gaunt man looming over the woman, their bodies oddly attuned as they held each other close, barely moving their feet.
"How often have you been to Vienna?"
"Many times. When you leave to visit with your parents, I travel to Austria for the week and visit with the very same man who gave me my life back. Francis was born and raised in Vienna, and returned there a number of years ago. Permanently. But that isn't the only reason I'll be visiting Austria this year. I'm to be guest conductor at the Vienna State Opera House."
"Erik, that's wonderful! But would you have shared this with me if I hadn't coerced you into coming with me tonight?"
He stumbled a bit, caught off balance by her question, and Christine stifled a laugh. "Why do you think I abducted you first? I had to act fast before it was de Chagny making you an offer you couldn't refuse."
"It was yours I wanted all along," she told him fiercely. "Only yours."
"How did I get so lucky?" he whispered, his thin lips tracing a path down her cheek.
"Luck has nothing to do with it," Christine answered tartly. "You're simply a worthy man. And a talented one. When did the opera house approach you?"
"A few months ago. I once studied under the opera's new music director, and since we've kept in touch over the years, he thought of me when they decided to include some mixed bill evenings. He proffered the invitation. Which means I will have to spend a number of my days in rehearsal with the orchestra, but there will be time for us after the performances conclude."
"I actually get to see you in harness and have you as my tour guide to Vienna after dark. How can I say no?"
"You can't because I won't let you," he replied emphatically, and Christine heard the ring of truth in his voice. More kidnapping?
"What are you and the orchestra performing?"
"A Bartok Divertimento for Strings, followed by Mozart Piano Concerto No. 12. After intermission...Schumann Symphony No. 2."
"It will be fascinating and even more so because I get to kiss the conductor! And meet the man who helped to put you there. Francis," she said softly. "I want to thank him."
"You will like him, Christine, And he, you."
"Why didn't you ever mention any of this before?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Why don't you ever talk about your visits home?"
"That's not exactly the same thing. I love my parents dearly, but it's not an honor to go home!" she said with a chuckle. "You however, are going to conduct music in a world class setting and I'll be there when you do."
"Nothing would please me more," he whispered, wanting only to leave now and have her all to himself.
"There's so much I still don't know about you," she murmured. "We have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?"
"Yes. Your parents... I'm not exactly what most mothers and fathers want for their daughters, am I? But I will convince them of how I feel about you. H-How very much I love you and have forever, it seems."
"I love you too, and isn't that all that really matters? They will accept you. They'll have to," and it was said with such utter finality, he didn't doubt for one moment that she meant it.
But he could only nod, hoping she was in the right of it instead of being naively optimistic. For now though, he had other things on his mind. He raised a hand to his forehead. "You know... I think I might be experiencing a bit of a relapse." He coughed experimentally and nodded. "Yes. Just as I thought. I'm afraid I'll need someone to take care of me."
She stroked a hand down his neck, hearing the slight hesitancy in Erik's voice, and said consideringly, "You do feel a little flushed. I'll have to keep an eye on you overnight."
"Christine?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Let's go home."
"Mine or yours?"
His kiss was tender. "Ours."
Fini
