I've been doing a lot of thinking about Erik and Christine's relationship because I was worried I was making them too out-of-character, but then I realised how much people change when they're part of a couple. They get used to being together, they relax more, they do things around each other that they wouldn't do in front of anyone else. People who are completely dignified in public can be completely different behind closed doors, especially when they're in love. And, as the actual show ended so tragically, none of us really know what it could have been like if they'd had the opportunity to really embrace each other as a couple, to open up that much. So, I hope I'm doing ok and that it doesn't seem too out of place. I know, from experience, what love does to people, so, to me, it's quite truthful.
And now, onto the surprise!
Erik's staff were stood in a neat, presentable line, dressed in their best clothes, shoes scrubbed and shiny. Christine smiled at them, barely contained excitement written all over her face.
"You all look wonderful. Now, does everyone know what they're doing? Mr Squelch, Dr Gangle - do you have the telegram?"
"Yes, Miss Daae."
"Oh, I hope it works."
Squelch offered her a smile. "I assure you, everything will go smoothly."
"Yes, yes it will," Christine replied, confidently. "Thank you, all of you - I couldn't have done this without your help. Now, the cabs are waiting outside, just remember to all be inside by quarter-to-three. Erik mustn't see you."
There was a chorus of 'Yes, Miss Daae' and an excitable flurry amongst the household. They went on their way, and Christine clapped her hands in delight before walking over to where Francine was waiting for her, along with Fleck, who looked a little uneasy.
"Oh, it's all going to be perfect! Why, Miss Fleck, whatever's the matter?" Christine asked, upon seeing her awkwardness.
"Nothing, I…" she sighed.
"Go on…" Christine encouraged, gently. She hadn't spent that much time with the talented aerialist, but she knew enough about Fleck to know that, sometimes, she wished she could walk amongst everyone else, away from Coney Island, and not be judged. So, Christine had given her a special role, hoping make her feel included.
"Are you sure I won't look ridiculous?"
Christine reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Not at all. You'll look beautiful. As always," she smiled. "Now, we'd best make sure we have everything, find my son, wherever he may be, and then we must get going."
"Master?"
"Squelch - what can I do for you?"
"This came for you," Squelch said, handing Erik the telegram.
Erik took it from him, opened it, and then frowned.
"Something wrong, Sir?"
"Yes… No," Erik sighed. "I'm wanted in the city this afternoon. Seems to be some confusion over the taxes that have been paid on Phantasma."
"Ah, Mr Wilson - doesn't he usually come to you?"
"Indeed he does, but he is unable to due to a meeting, and it's urgent, apparently. I'd best change - could you have the carriage brought round, please?"
Squelch nodded and left, and Erik wandered off to his room. Opening his wardrobe, he pulled out the first morning suit he saw and grumpily changed into it. As if he didn't have better things to do on New Year's Eve. He hadn't been in the best of moods to begin with - his fiancée and his son had disappeared goodness knew where, without even leaving a note, and everyone was still behaving bizarrely, even though Christmas was over. He just didn't understand it, and it was driving him absolutely mad.
He finished dressing, picked up his folder of business papers from the study, and sullenly left the hotel. Outside, he was surprised to see Squelch, along with Gangle, in the place of his driver.
"What are both you doing here?"
"Jones is unwell, sir," Gangle replied.
"Oh - will he be all right? Do I need to send him a doctor?"
"It's just a cold, sir."
Erik nodded. "Very well," he said, climbing into the carriage.
The journey seemed to take a lot longer than usual, mostly because Erik was bored and tetchy. He stared out of the window, watching the world go by. The sun was shining and the last couple of days had been a little milder, melting away the last of the snow. But it was still very cold - he could see his breath in front of him in the carriage. He huffed. This had better not take long.
"Mr Y?"
"Yes?" Erik said, eyeing the young man in front of him.
"Please, could you follow me? Mr Wilson is waiting."
"Of course."
They left the lobby, walking down a long corridor before stopping at a door on the right.
"After you, sir," the young man indicated.
Erik turned the knob, pushed the door open, stepped through, and… Oh. That was not what he was expecting. The room he'd walked into was grand - high ceiling, marble floor, beautifully carved stonework, red silk curtains, a sparking chandelier and flowers on every surface. But it wasn't the grandeur which had surprised him so much as the chorus of whoops and the shouting of 'Happy wedding day!' that assaulted him as he entered. Hang on - what? Wedding day?
"Well, come on, sir, don't just stand there," Mary, the cook, said, as she approached him and plucked his folder from his hands with the promise to return it safely, before gently maneuvering him down the aisle towards were an elderly man stood, and, to the side of him, a string quartet.
Erik couldn't speak at first. His mouth was dry and it took a moment for him to collect himself. "Wedding day?" he finally said, a little dumbly.
Mary gave him a motherly smile. "Miss Daae organised the whole thing. What a wonderful lady you have, sir."
"City Hall conducts weddings?"
"Of course."
It took a moment, but then Erik laughed, unbelievably but joyously all the same. "I can't believe it - all this time I thought the lot of you had gone mad! It was this, all along?"
"It was indeed."
"And the telegram?"
"A fake."
"Oh, she's good - she's very, very good."
They reached the elderly man, the registrar, and Erik shook his hand delightedly.
"Mr Y, a pleasure. Or perhaps, for the purpose of this day, I should call you Mr 'Muhlheim'?"
"How did you…"
"Your fiancée had to disclose your name when applying for the marriage licence."
"Ah, of course."
"Well, Mr Muhlheim, don't worry about a thing - when it's time, just repeat after me."
"Mother, you look beautiful."
"Oh, thank you, Gustave." Christine kissed his cheek. "And look at you in your suit, my handsome boy."
"Christine!"
Whirling around, Christine saw an ecstatic looking Meg, followed by Madame Giry, approaching her. "Meg!" She looked down at Gustave. "Darling…"
"It's all right, mama - I invited them."
"You did? But…"
"I knew you were sad that you couldn't invite Meg, even though you never mentioned it, and I didn't want you to be sad on your wedding day. I had an invitation sent to where they were staying."
"Gustave…" Christine hugged him. "Are you sure? I don't want you feeling worried."
He nodded. "I thought about it a lot. I'm not scared, now," he smiled. Then, he added, in a whisper, "I still don't like them much, though."
Christine had to stop herself from laughing. "That's fine. Thank you, my wonderful boy." She straightened up. "Oh, Meg," she said, embracing her friend. "I'm so glad you're here - and you as well, Madame Giry."
"My dear child, what a marvellous day for us to all be coming together," Madame Giry replied, taking hold of Christine's hands.
Meg smiled down at Gustave, and he offered a small, unsure one in return.
"Christine, that dress…Why, you're exquisite. And Miss Fleck - how lovely to see you."
"Meg, Madame Giry," Fleck nodded, politely.
"Doesn't she look lovely? You all do. Oh, I hope Erik is all right." Christine looked suddenly nervous, and Gustave took her hand.
"Papa will be so happy, mama - don't worry."
She smiled. "Yes, you're absolutely right."
Just then, Francine came running round the corner. "Mademoiselle, it is time!"
Christine took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly. "Thank you, Francine. Would you please show Madame Giry inside? Meg, I'd like you to join Miss Fleck as a bridesmaid - if you want to, that is."
Meg was overjoyed. "Oh, Christine! It would be an honour."
The group made their way up the corridor, Christine holding onto Gustave's hand tightly. When they stopped outside the large, oak doors, Fleck stooped to straighten the train of Christine's dress and fan out her veil. Christine fondly touched the pearls around her neck that Erik had given her for Christmas, and then took the flowers that Fleck held out for her. One of the doors opened slightly, and Francine's head popped out.
"Are you ready for the doors, mademoiselle?"
Christine let go of Gustave's hand and took his arm instead. She nodded. "Ready."
Erik watched with anticipation as the doors opened at the back of the room and the music started. And then, he couldn't breathe. Christine was stunning, beautiful beyond anything. Her face was glowing, and her gown of white lace and silk against her creamy skin made her look almost ethereal. She was heaven, and heaven was walking towards him, eyes only on him, lips turned up in a shy smile, and if he could have grabbed her and kissed her and carried her away there and then, he would have. And on her arm, looking handsome and proud, was their son. Oh, what joy. Erik smiled widely at her, his face amazement and awe, and she beamed at him, and then she was next to him, even more breathtaking up close.
Gustave handed his father his mother's hand, and grinned at him before taking a kiss from his mother and sitting down.
Erik pressed his lips to it, playfully whispering the word 'sneaky', and then told her she looked beautiful in a low voice which gave him result he'd intended, which was to make Christine blush.
The service began. Erik was glad of the simplicity of it all. It was no over-the-top, lavish affair full of pretentious idiots and money-hungry socialites they didn't know - it was just him and Christine, their son, and the people who, employees or not, actually meant something to him because they were hard-working and honest and didn't judge.
The registrar spoke of what it meant to be married, of the vows they were about to take; Christine's duties as a wife and Erik's duties as a husband. He asked if there were any objections, and the room was silent. Then came the vows themselves. They promised to be faithful, to honour and cherish and love each other until their dying days. It was hard for Erik not to get choked up, especially upon seeing the tears in his beloved's eyes, but he sailed through perfectly, meant every single word, and when they were done the registrar spoke of the ring, and Gustave stood to hand a small box to him. Erik opened it, eyes wide as he saw the simple, but pretty, wedding band. A band he'd put a mark by in a little jewellery catalogue about a month before, a little catalogue he could only now remember leaving out on his desk when he'd been called away suddenly... He looked at his son and raised an eyebrow at him, and Gustave laughed quietly behind his hand. Erik was glad, however, because that had been the ring he'd wanted Christine to have, and to know that she hadn't had to pick out her own just to keep the day a complete surprise, relieved him. A few more words, the slipping of the ring onto Christine's slender finger, and they were pronounced married. Christine was now his wife. Erik kissed her, then, and the room burst into applause. Christine threw her arms around his neck, and giggled when he picked her up and swung her round in delight.
"I love you, so very much" he said, meaningfully. He wiped a tear away from Christine's cheek with his thumb.
"And I love you," his new wife beamed in return.
A flurry of activity followed the signing of the register. There were handshakes, hugs, kisses, and words of congratulations. Then everyone was ushered outside, where photographs were taken on City Hall's steps. Erik wasn't used to photographs, but he smiled brilliantly in every single one; he couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Christine, nor anyone else. Erik was so overwhelmed, so proud. Of his wife and son, unquestionably, but also of himself. He liked who he was now and, little by little, the world was less threatening. Erik knew his redemption would forever be ongoing, and he was absolutely fine with that. He didn't even entertain the thought of where his life would be if Christine hadn't come back into it, because it didn't bear thinking about – all that mattered was here and now, and the incredible chance he had been given.
"Papa!"
Erik laughed and swept Gustave up into his arms, hugging him tightly. "You and your mother are quite a team, aren't you?"
Gustave grinned. "Surprise!"
"Darling, we should get going."
"Going?" Erik asked, as he placed Gustave down. Christine nodded.
"Yes – I've made us a reservation at the Wilmington Hotel in Times Square," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Gustave, you will be good for Francine, won't you?" Christine hugged her son tight.
"Yes, mama," he replied, accepting a kiss from her.
"When your father and I return, we may just have a little treat in store for you, to say thank-you for all your help."
"Really?"
She ruffled his hair. "Really."
There was a shout, then, from the far left of the bottom of the steps: "Hey, isn't that Mr Y and Christine Daae?"
"Journalist!" Christine exclaimed. "I love you," she told Gustave, before asking Francine to take him and then grabbing Erik's hand and running with him as fast as she could manage in her dress towards where their carriage was already waiting, and they flung themselves inside, laughing breathlessly from the exhilaration of it all.
Erik could hear the journalist calling out to them, but the carriage was already picking up speed.
"Goodness me! Don't they ever stop?"
I'm afraid not." Erik looked at her, then, and was just about to lean in for a kiss when Christine beat him to it, grabbing his face and pulling his mouth to hers. Erik snaked his arms about her, pulling her onto his lap. When they parted, flushed and delirious, he leant his head against hers and whispered, "Mrs Erik Muhlheim."
Christine grinned. "My husband," she whispered back.
"My wife."
They were silent for a moment, simply drinking in the sight of each other. Christine pulled gently at the lapels of Erik's black velvet dress coat.
"You look so very dashing. I'm glad you found the suit I planted."
"Hmmm, now I think about it, it was rather strategically placed for me to come across."
"Of course – I didn't want you just wearing any old thing," she teased. "I knew you would look perfect in it as soon as I saw it."
"Perfect?"
"Yes – perfect. In fact..." she nipped at his neck playfully and Erik sucked in a breath.
"Temptress."
Christine grinned wickedly. "Soon, my love." Then she shivered. Erik took his jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. "Thank you," she said.
"Didn't you have a coat with you?"
"I forgot it in all the excitement. But isn't that what husbands are for?" Christine gave Erik a look and he knew what she was after. He lifted his arm, and she cuddled into him.
"Now, tell me everything. I honestly thought you'd all lost your heads," Erik said, rubbing a hand up and down her arm.
"I know," she laughed. "I'm sorry about that. Well, it started when I went into the study one day to get some note paper. Gustave was with me and noticed the ring catalogue open on your desk."
Erik shook his head, inwardly scolding himself for being so careless.
"Anyway, we saw the ring you'd put a cross next to, and Gustave suddenly said wouldn't it be fun if I gave you a surprise wedding? It was odd, because I didn't even stop and think about if it was a ludicrous idea or not, I just knew that our son had come up with something wonderful. It went from them. It was difficult, of course, and I came close to blurting it out more than once, especially when I saw how it was agitating you, but I knew it would be worth it, so I persevered – and here we are."
"You amazing woman," Erik said, kissing her hand. "You crafty, sneaky, amazing woman. And Gustave, too. Just when I didn't think I could love either of you any more. It was so very definitely worth it. But I didn't think you wanted to get married so soon?"
Christine smiled softly. "I never wanted to wait too long, I was just grateful that you left me to go at my own pace. I realised, rather quickly, that I didn't want to start the New Year not being your wife. So New Year's Eve it was. And this," she gestured out the window to the grand building the carriage was coming to a stop in front of, "is our own private celebration. Top floor suite. Perfect view of the 'ball drop'."
"Oh, yes! I read about that. Intriguing."
"Hmmm, and you and I, on a balcony, at midnight, fireworks exploding through the air..."
"Sounds magical." Erik kissed her. "Come on, let's get inside."
Erik opened the door to their suite, then made Christine shriek with delight as he picked her up and carried her over the threshold. He kicked the door closed behind him, and then nearly tripped over the luggage that Christine had had sent ahead. His wife laughed, holding onto him for dear life.
"Idiot bellboy, leaving them right there."
"No harm done, don't grumble."
Erik grinned and carried her though to the bedroom, dropping her, gently, onto the bed. "You'll hear no grumbling from me - none at all," he said, climbing over her, his grin widening as he heard Christine hold her breath in anticipation, eyes burning into hers. "Now, there is no doubt that you make the most exquisite bride the world has ever seen, but..." He kissed her neck, swept his lips across her décolletage, smiling wickedly as she sighed. "... as beautiful as that dress is, I'd very much like to see you out of it," he finished, voice low and deep, the pretty flush that had crept across Christine's cheeks, the full, bottom lip caught between her teeth setting fire to his skin.
"Anything for you, my darling husband," Christine breathed, reaching up to kiss him.
"My darling wife..."
"I still can't believe we slept for so long – I've never eaten dinner this late before," Christine said, sipping the last of her champagne.
Erik smiled knowingly at her.
She giggled and flapped her napkin at him. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what, my love?"
Christine stood from the table and sashayed over to him, eyes fixed firmly on his. She climbed onto his lap. "You know what." She kissed him. "Are you happy?"
Erik ran a hand through her now loose curls, pushing them away from her face. "Deliriously so. You?"
"Completely. Utterly. Absolutely." Christine kissed him again. "What time is it?"
"A little after eleven," he replied, glancing at the clock on the mantel. "Christine?"
"Mmmm?"
"Thank you."
"What for?" she asked, looking at him earnestly.
Erik stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Everything. I had nothing, and now I have everything. When I was a child, I was the bane of my mother's life. People were terrified of me, thought that somehow I would curse them with my fate if they got too close. I resigned myself to never finding any sort of compassion, let alone love of any kind. And now I'm married. I have a beautiful bride, a wife, and not only that, a child. A wonderful, bright little boy who is not ashamed of me, and does everything he can to make me happy. I haven't earned any of that, but I'm going to happily work for it for the rest of my life, I promise you."
"Oh... No – you deserve everything."
Erik bushed his hand against his wife's cheek again and then pressed his mouth to hers. They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, and then Christine suddenly let out a little squeal of excitement. Erik looked at her questioningly.
"It's five minutes to midnight!"
Erik chuckled. "You're really looking forward to this, aren't you?"
Christine got up, holding out her hand for him. "Come on - let's go out onto the balcony." She lead him through to the living room, pulled open the French doors, and stepped out, sucking in a sharp breath as she did. "Goodness, it's cold! It's like ice again." She pulled her robe further around her, but it was a feeble attempt.
"Wait here." Erik dashed back inside, quickly returning with a blanket. He placed it round her shoulders. "Better?"
"Much," she smiled. "But, what about you?"
"I'm fine." He stood behind her and rubbed her arms to warm them. "Actually, I've been thinking about something..."
"Go on..."
"Well... I've been thinking we should move. I don't want my family living in a hotel forever. I thought maybe I could buy us a house in Manhattan. I know you prefer the quietness of Coney out-of-season, but if we had a house overlooking Central Park... What do you think?"
Christine's face, bright as the sun, said it all. "Oh, Erik! As long as we're all together, I don't mind where we are. Our own house... Really?"
Erik grinned. "Really. And any day you want to get out of the city, Coney will be there for you. I'll keep the suite as it is, just for us, and we can use it at weekends, or whenever you like. We'll start looking next week – my wedding gift to you."
"Oh... Oh, I don't think I could be any happier!" Christine threw her arms around him and Erik hugged her back tightly, laughing as she bounced on her feet excitedly.
Down below, a huge crowd of people had gathered, the anticipation rising steadily. Then, there was an enormous cheer as the top of One Times Square suddenly lit up as a huge ball of light slowly started to descend.
Christine gasped, wrapping her arms around Erik's waist as she watched it, her eyes wide with glee. The sound of people counting down rose up to their ears. The ball continued to drop.
Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
One!
Fireworks exploded, a rousing chorus of Auld Lang Syne drifted upwards, people cheered and embraced.
The newly-weds kissed. Christine sighed happily.
"Happy New Year, my angel."
"Happy New Year, my wonderful wife."
Hope you all enjoyed that! Please drop me a little review if you did :) I made up the name of the hotel, but I researched the Ball Drop (I'm British, so didn't know much about it). At midnight on New Year's Day, 1908, it did indeed drop for the very first time :) Also, I debated for a long time about using Erik's surname (I couldn't think of a surname to use, so I used the only one he's ever been given, which came from the book The Phantom in Manhattan), in case of any digging up of his past, but then I thought he probably, once he'd run away from home, had never used it anyway, so it would be fine. After all, Christine can't go around being called 'Mrs Y' XD