The lights went out. The candles became victims of a wind that fluttered in from behind the dressing room's full length mirror. There were only two candles left alight, the two on the far sides of the same wall, although those were nearly hidden because of all the flowers. Then Christophe heard the singing. "Brava, brava, bravicima." It was Erica, and her voice was coming from the mirror.

He decided to play along with her little duet. "Angel, I hear you. Sing, I follow. Enter my life, beauty. Angel, my patience falls to longing, longing for you, angel."

Christophe was sure she blushed as she sang back. "Flattering love, I will lead you. Into the darkness we'll flee. Step through the frame of this mirror. Make a life with me."

He stepped toward the indicated doorway. "Angel of music, love, and laughter, help me escape notice. Slip me away into your castle, home of your dark wonder." He stepped across the threshold, took her hand, and for the first time since their meeting five years ago, finally saw her up close.

They stood like that for a while, staring at each other. Erika was memorizing every line of his face, at least, those she could see in this semi-darkness. Farther down the tunnel she'd installed candelabras and part of her plan to make a home for them beneath the opera house, but she didn't dare put them closer to the mirror. If someone saw the light and thought to investigate, it could end very badly for the two of them. But she could examine him more thoroughly later. For now, she feasted on the dark eyes and creases the darkness highlighted and the warmth of his hand in her as they prepared to descend further into her life's work.

He was shocked. The face that had nearly gotten her killed was covered by a fantastic white mask that gleamed in the dull light. It covered most of the right side of her face, where the flaw persisted. But it looked like she'd left her lips free. He ran a finger over them to check and delighted in the smile he felt forming at his touch. She waited until he removed his fingers and started gently pulling him down the tunnel. "Come. I have a better place for this."

As they entered the more finished section of the tunnel, the candelabra along the walls afforded better light and Christophe got his first real look at this new Erika.

At first, it was only her back since she was leading him. Her black hair was a bit ragged around the edges, but it was wavy, like he remembered, and now much longer, past her waist. There was a black rose hairpin at the crown of her head. She turned to make sure he was following and he saw that the hair around her face had been pulled back. Her mask was white. His other hand twitched as he looked at it.

Erika saw the small movement and brought the hand up to her face. "Go ahead." Now that he had permission, Christophe ran his hand over the mask.

It was smooth, like silk, and molded to her face. As he looked closer, he saw that it wasn't pure white, as he'd first thought, but more creamy. The color was so close to her complexion that it would be hard to tell the two apart if you didn't know the mask was there. She leaned into his hand. "I tried to make it as close to skin as I could. Is it…"

"Perfect." He gently kissed the forehead portion of the mask. "There's no difference." She smiled and they continued down the tunnel.

They exited into a cavernous space filled with water. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I didn't know this was under the opera house."

"It isn't," she answered. "We're outside the city limits now. It was the best way to remain undetected. Come." She led him along the shoreline until they reached a boat, one of the kinds you used a pole to push instead of oars. "We have to get in." She made for the back where the pole rested, but he grabbed her wrist before she could reach for the pole.

"Let me." Christophe helped her into the seat and took up the poling position himself.

They rode through the waters in silence, with Erika occasionally pointing out where they needed to go and Christophe moving the pole to propel them in the indicated direction. Most couples would have chatted to fill the silence. But Christophe and Erkia had had nothing but words for so long that they were content, for the first time in years, to use their eyes instead of their ears.

As Christophe guided the boat around corners, he saw the work she had put into building their home. The walls were smooth and occasionally garnished with small carvings in the seam between wall and ceiling , or above doorways. "Did you make all those?" He gestured to an angel tucked into a corner near the doorway they'd just entered, with its wings spread out on the adjoining walls.

She smiled and looked back at him. "Actually, no. I found this place when I was searching for a way to connect that tunnel to the place I built our home. But it is beautiful."

He smiled. He should have known his angel was too delicate for such work, especially when she had been younger. "Yes, they are." They continued in silence until they crossed through the last archway and entered a cave the likes of which he had never laid eyes on.

I LOVE REVIEWS!

For some odd reason, this story is not popping up on the Phantom of the Opera archive. Any suggestions as to how I can solve that problem?