"Christine Marie Daae!"

Christine winced and held her cell phone away from her ear. Her best friend's voice rose half an octave with every syllable of Christine's name.

"You went on a date and didn't tell me?"

"I'm telling you now." Christine held the phone out again in preparation. But Meg didn't scream this time.

"Well, did you at least wear the heels?"

The heels - or "the hooker boots", as Christine had dubbed them - were a gift from Meg on Christine's twenty-first birthday. They were six inches of stiletto death. Christine, who could hardly walk in one-inch heels, had hidden them in the back of her closet. Constantly wearing flats might mean she had to stare at a man's shoulder all night, but she'd rather deal with that than with falling over her own feet.

"Are you serious?"

Meg sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose it's not the end of the world...as long as you give me all the details! What's his name?"

"Mmm." Christine rolled on her back. "Nadir Kahn. He's a policeman -"

"Ooooh! You're dating a cop?"

"Mmhmm."

"What's he look like?"

"Very pretty."

"When're you gonna see him again?"

Christine grinned and sat up. "Friday we're going out for lunch."

"D'you like him? A lot?"

"I just met him yesterday, Meg!" She hesitated, nibbling on her lip. "But yeah...yeah, I do."

Meg gave a little squeak of joy. "Oh, Chrissy, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you!" Christine could hear Meg starting to bounce up and down. "You sound really happy!"

"I am." Christine smiled to herself and then caught sight of her clock. "Hey - Meg - I've gotta go. I'd actually like to look like a human being today."

"Okay, bye, sweetie!"

Christine snapped the phone shut and meandered to the bathroom. She had at least an hour before she needed to be at the office, giving her plenty of time to neaten herself up.

"Morning, Christine. You look cheerful today."

She glanced up from her papers. Richard leaned against the door frame, attempting to look casual. She smiled politely. "I'm in a good mood. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just, you know."

"Uh-huh."

He was still there. "Okay."

Her smile became slightly forced. "Something else going on, huh?"

Richard rubbed a hand over his head. "I was just wondering if you'd...want to do something on Friday? I mean..."

"Oh." Christine found the file she wanted and spread it out on her desk. "I'm sorry, Richard, but I've already got plans on Friday." She tried a kinder expression, wanting to let him down as gently as possible. "Actually, I've got a date."

"Ah." He stood up straight. "Right. Of course." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I guess I'll go now."

"I really am sorry."

"Nah. It's not that important." Richard grimaced and left very quickly.

Christine sighed and smoothed a hand over her papers. She felt pretty bad. Richard wasn't that bad of a guy, a little puppyish, perhaps, but genuinely sweet...and awfully persistent. She probably should have told him she wasn't interested at the start. That would have made sense.

She chewed on her pen cap. She wasn't great at doing things that made sense in her romantic life, if she was being completely honest.

As the day wore on, Christine began to wonder why she'd been asked to come in today at all. All the cases she'd been consulting for were either on hold or at trial pre- or post- testification. She wondered what was going to happen with Erik's case. Disturbing as it was, at least it was psychologically fascinating.

Her mind began to wander. She stared out the window, thinking that maybe she should have just gone into counseling. Or another field entirely. Sometimes she regretted dropping out of her music program, and then she'd remember why she'd done it in the first place and bite her tongue to stop from crying.

She stacked her papers into the desk drawers and laid her cheek on her hand with another yawn. Lord, she was tired. She hadn't realized how tired she was; she really hadn't been sleeping well. Pale early-winter sunlight filtered in through her window, gently warming her face. She sighed, squirmed into a more comfortable position, and then she was asleep.

Christine woke several hours later, with her cheek sore from where it had rested against the side of her desk. She rubbed it and made a face. The clock on the wall read ten after five. With a groan of relief, Christine swung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the elevator. She ran a hand through her hair. It had grown gradually frizzier and frizzier as the day wore on and now she looked like she'd been struck by lightening.

She tapped her fingers impatiently against her thigh. The elevator seemed slower than usual. At last the doors opened to the lobby and Christine hurried from the building and into the rain outside.

Muttering under her breath, Christine raised her bag over her head and made a run for it. She waved down a cab, still tired. She leaned her head against the cold glass of the window.

"Miss?"

"Oh - sorry." Christine shook her head groggily and forked over several bills. "Thanks." She heaved herself out of the cab and up to her apartment, where she collapsed on the sofa.

She leaned her head against the back of it and closed her eyes.

She soon dozed off again, and woke with a jump when the phone rang. Rubbing a cramp in her neck, she fumbled for the phone. "Hello?"

"Christine? It's Nadir."

She'd recognized his voice immediately, of course. (Was that sad? Overly clingy? She had no idea. God, she'd been out of the dating game a while.) "Hey, what's up?" (Was her voice too high pitched? Annoying? There were so many things that could be wrong with a person and suddenly she was conscious of all of them.)

"Not much. Just thinking."

"About?" She shifted on the couch, tucking her feet under herself.

"Honestly? You."

She smiled. "Really?"

"Really, really."

Butterflies trembled in her stomach. She hoped against hope she wasn't going to screw this up.

**Also, I'm looking for a cover for this story...anyone have any ideas?