Resolutions

Erik made a quick sweep of the house, checking every room.

Dinner was warm in the oven. Champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice at the bar in the den. Two places were set at his dining room table. Jazz standards were playing softly on his stereo system. The lights were dimmed just so in every room. The kitchen and bathroom both gleamed. Everything was spotlessly clean. His bed was made with fresh sheets and blankets, and two immaculate pillows sat on both sides of the bed.

Just in case, he thought, equal parts excited and nauseated by the prospect of being with Christine in this room. The words, "THIS IS WHERE THE MAGIC HAPPENS," swam in front of his eyes as he thought of the lights strung up around the bed in Christine's little studio apartment. Oh, how beds seemed to taunt him!

Erik himself was impeccably dressed in black slacks, a charcoal dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back to the elbows, black loafers, and a gleaming white mask. The rolled-up sleeves made the outfit casual.

"This is casual, right," he asked the bathroom mirror aloud, suddenly not at all sure if he even knew how to be casual at all. Or what to do with his hands. What the hell am I supposed to do with my hands all night?

Erik, as usual, wanted everything to be perfect. He had been seeing…going with…going out with…dating – whatever people were calling it these days. Well, whatever it was, he had been doing that with Christine since just before Christmas, and she was coming to his home for the first time for New Year's Eve. He had offered to take her to some awful, crowded, noisy party, but she had assured him she would prefer to spend a quiet evening with him. Perhaps she would have wanted to go to a party if he hadn't actually used the words, "awful," "crowded," and "noisy," but the important thing was that she would be alone with him in his house, rather than gallivanting around the city with some young, handsome, empty-headed Raoul – the name he had given to his imagined rival.

Erik quickly turned off the oven and put on his coat to meet Christine at the train station and ran out to his car. He sighed in contentment as he thought about the evening ahead of him – good food, expensive champagne, and the best company. It could possibly even stretch into the whole night if she decided she didn't want to take the train back to the city, or get a cab. After the champagne, he certainly didn't plan on driving her back to her apartment. Of course, if she decided to stay, but wasn't ready to spend the night in the same bed as him, he would do the gentlemanly thing and take the couch. Either way, he would complete Phase 24 of his master plan, maybe even 25, if she stayed the night.

He pulled into the parking area at the station and quickly smoothed back his hair before getting out of the car and walking to the platform. He was right on time, as usual. The train had just pulled up, and the passengers were disembarking. For a panicked moment, Erik was terrified that she wouldn't get off the train – that she had changed her mind, decided she wanted nothing more to do with him, and that he would never see her again. He let out the breath he'd been holding when, thankfully, Christine stepped into view, and the terror passed.

And what a view! Her long curls were swept away from the right side of her face and fell over her left shoulder. Erik waved at her, and she smiled radiantly when she spotted him, quickly striding towards him in her long wool coat. When she reached him, she threw her arms around him and kissed him squarely on the lips, as she had done every time they'd seen each other the past week and a half. As Erik returned her kiss and embrace, he silently hoped he never got used to this small miracle. How could anybody take this for granted?

Christine was carrying a rather large bag, not at all appropriate for a casual evening in a home she intended to leave in a few hours. Hello, Phase 24 or 25, and goodbye!

Once Erik finally got her into his house, he helped her shrug off her coat, revealing a form-fitting knee-length, sleeveless wine-colored velvet dress with just a tempting hint of cleavage along the sweetheart neckline.

Eyes up, Erik, eyes up, he thought, as Christine looked around the living room.

He quickly gave her the full tour, and she seemed duly impressed by his tasteful décor. When they reached the bedroom, Christine smiled shyly at him, and his face burned so hot, he was afraid he'd melt his mask. Tour ended, he led her to the dining room and pulled out her chair for her. He served their perfectly prepared meal, and they settled in for a pleasant evening.

xXx

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
for the sake of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for the sake of auld lang syne."

"Oh, Erik, you play the violin so beautifully," Christine marveled, clapping her hands gleefully.

"And you are in remarkably good voice today," Erik complimented her, stealing a kiss before putting his violin away.

Christine poured them each another glass of champagne at the bar and then sat down on the sofa. Erik joined her, and she draped her legs across his lap. With a false air of nonchalance, Erik laid one hand on her thigh, admiring the muscle under the velvet.

"So, what's your resolution for 2018," Christine asked, slipping an arm around his shoulders. Her fingers started rubbing little circles on his shoulder blade, and his skin tingled pleasantly at the contact.

Erik shrugged, careful not to disturb her arm. "I haven't thought about it," Erik replied truthfully. "I've never made a resolution before."

"Then you should choose something easy as practice," she advised, taking another sip of champagne. "Like being nicer to Nadir, or eating more green vegetables."

"Being nicer to Nadir is a bit ambitious for a first try," Erik argued dryly. "Besides, someone has to remind him what a boring old fart he is." Erik looked up at the ceiling in a pensive attitude. "Perhaps, I should resolve to date more," he finally said with an amused chuckle.

"To date more women," Christine laughed, "or go on more dates?"

"Oh, more dates," Erik assured her with a rakish grin. "I don't think I can juggle any more women than I already am. Five is my limit."

Christine playfully slapped his arm, pretending to be offended. "Resolutions are about progress," she informed him. "You decide how you can make your life better, and then you try to do it. A lot of people decide to quit smoking, or exercise more. Or they decide to make new friends, or take up a new hobby. For 2017, I resolved to move to New York City and live as a starving bohemian artist for a while," Christine said, turning serious. "I did that, so in 2018, I resolve to get a job as a working opera singer. The Met is my first choice, but maybe I'll end up at the Opera Company of Brooklyn, or the American Lyric Theatre. There are a lot of places I can sing in New York, and I'm going to find one that will take me by the end of the year."

"Yes, you will," Erik agreed, beaming at her. Perhaps it was the champagne, or the fact that she hadn't taken her hands, or legs, off him since they sat down, but he felt like he was glowing. "But it's almost midnight, and you told me we have to watch the ball drop in Time Square."

"You're just excited because I told you that's when people kiss," she teased, scooting in a little closer so he could wrap his arm around her and she could lay her head on his shoulder.

"Believe me, my dear," Erik told her, planting a kiss on her hair while subtly moving his hand a little farther up her thigh, "I will exploit any excuse to kiss you."

"Who says you need an excuse," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Erik switched on the television, which was already set to the appropriate channel, and he considered everything Christine had said about New Year's resolutions.

This past year had been good to Erik, and the last couple of weeks had been the happiest time in his life. Now that he'd met Christine and finally gotten the nerve to ask her out, Erik could think of only one thing that could possibly change his life for the better. He needed security. He needed as much assurance as he could get that Christine would always be a part of his life. As the countdown started, Erik knew that his resolution for 2018 was much more ambitious than going on dates with Christine – even more ambitious than being nicer to Nadir.

As he leaned in for his very first New Year's kiss, Erik gazed into the eyes of his beloved and resolved within himself. I love you, Christine Daaé, and I'm going to ask you to marry me by the end of the year.

xXx

On New Year's Day, Erik woke up feeling sore all over. He'd had quite a night with Christine, who was now sleeping soundly next to him. Unfortunately, they'd both fallen asleep on the couch after their fourth glass of champagne each. Well, there was always Valentine's Day…

A/N: I haven't actually laid out what each Phase is. I just pick numbers that sound reasonable. Well, reasonable is probably not the right word for Erik's obsessively detailed plan, but you get the idea. However, I have laid out some ideas for how we can follow Erik and Christine through some other major holidays in 2018. Here's hoping I don't flake! Ooooh, maybe writing/publishing more will be my New Year's Resolution!