Summary: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

A/N: I apologize for not updating this as quickly as I usually have, but I did go through and edited some of the chaps (again) for mistakes. Madbrilliant, thanks a bunch for pointing that out about Christine and Erik's relationship, I went back and altered that chapter as well. So, thanks again and lots of kisses to all those who reviewed (and read). Anyway, this chapter is a lot longer than the previous ones, so please let me know what you think. Also, if you come across any errors, I'd appreciate it if you could point them out as well. Thanks a bunch!

Anyway, I went to see Phantom in Toronto yesterday, it was absolutely amazing!!! My phantom was John Cudia, and Christine was played by Marni Raab. John was so amazing, I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with him. Actually, there's no Phantom that I've heard of that I don't like, but seeing John live definitely takes the cake.

Erik fiercely threw open the stained glass door of his manor house, failing to notice as it shattered into tiny shards behind him. His maid, a Cantonese guest worker named Xiao-Ming, jumped in shock at the loud crashing noise her employer had made upon his unexpected arrival home that evening. She looked towards him with wide, frightened eyes, biting down on her lip nervously.

"Leave," He hissed. When she stood there, unmoving as a deer caught in the headlight, he screamed even louder. "Now!"

He heard a tiny 'yes, Sir' escape from her lips as she hurried past him and out the door. Forgetting to take his boots off, Erik stormed through the elegantly decorated manor house and up the stairs into the master bedroom. In one swift move he pulled the white sheet from the only mirror in the room, studying his reflection rather intently.

He thought Christine would understand. He thought she would understand why he didn't want her to see his face. He never told her what he was hiding, but what right did she have to know? He told her it wasn't during a mission, he told her and she still wanted to see. No, even that was giving her too much credit. She had taken advantage of the vulnerability he exhibited and when he was least expecting it she tried to tear down the only barrier he had.

What if she had succeeded? Good God, what if she had succeeded? She would have fled. She would have screamed and she would have fled. She would have fled to pretty boy Raoul, no doubt. Christine would have done the same as anyone outside of the Section would, because she was not yet accustomed to something as horrific as my face.

Placing his long fingers under the sides of his pale porcelain mask, Erik gently stripped it from his face. A truly hideous monster glared back at him through the mirror. While the left side of his face wasn't scarred, and dare he say it was even handsome, it was a cruel contrast to the nightmare on the right. The twisted and mangled skin wasred and angry, and several bits of gruesome skull tissue had been exposed. Above his drooping eye there was little evidence of an eyebrow, and his right nostril looked as if it had been stretched one or two inches towards the right. Blue veins were clearly visible underneath the thin layer of skin, and crimson lesions adorned his temple and continued down his cheek.

It wasn't always so bad. Well, in all actuality it was never good, but it had gotten worse over the years. The mask was partly to blame, he only ever took it off during the night or when he was home alone during his down time, although Operations never granted Erik a great deal of that.

Erik knew what it was to be handsome. He knew how people treated him when he had a full face. They were kind, and women would often smile at him or casually flirt. He experienced this occasionally when Operations would send him to perform undercover missions, and Erik would obediently undergo extensive, often painful hours while the prosthetic was being put on his face. The moment he arrived back at the Section, however, he would be sent directly to medical to get it removed again, often resulting in even more damage being caused to the sensitive skin.

It was not as if Section wasn't capable of fixing his face permanently. The Section was more than capable; in fact it would be mere child's play. Their technology was so advanced that they've accomplished things the 'real' world couldn't even begin to imagine. Had he ever been given the choice, Erik would jump at the chance to undergo a procedure that would eliminate his scars forever, but Operations had insisted strongly against it.

Operations was not a stupid man, he knew that if Erik became too accustomed to being attractive and amongst normal people, it would not be difficult for Section's top operative to simply eliminate his own files, leave, and never be seen again. With a beautiful face, Erik would no longer be afraid of the public, and he could accomplish so much on the outside. It was because of this fact that Operations always made sure the prosthetic was temporary. That way, Erik would have no choice but to seclude himself into Section One.

Besides, everyone is well aware of the price of disobeying Operations. Christine was right, I've given the Section complete control over my life, or rather what is left of it. She was right, I am just a puppet, and for the past decade I've simply allowed Operations to pull my strings. Christ, I don't even know how to stop it.

Erik glared at his reflection in the mirror, wincing as he brought his hand up to prod at the delicate skin.

It was because of this… because of this that I've created my own hell and lived in it ever since. It's because of this that I'm stuck here in the first place.

With all the force he could muster, Erik slammed his fist into the large mirror. Tiny shards embedded themselves into his flesh but he paid them no heed. Wheeling around abruptly, he limped over to the dust-covered desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a file from the first drawer. He fell to the ground, rummaging through the mess of papers and leaving a sticky blood red trial on each of them. Erik pulled out the clipping that headed his supposed suicide in juvenile prison. That was the lie that accounted for his disappearance. No one bothered to find out if it was true. Then again, who would? His mother? Hardly. No, his mother was more concerned with what to wear for her new boyfriend. In the twelve years since he's been in Section, he wouldn't be surprised if his mother ever once thought of him.

Erik flipped through several other clippings, ignoring the sharp cutting pain the glass was causing him. He moaned as he saw an old photo of himself and Beatrix.

Oh God, Beatrix.

It was the first time in his life he could ever recall being happy. While the blonde-haired beauty was in very many ways the polar opposite of himself, he had loved her very deeply. She was always cheerful and full of light, despite being an operative. Like Christine, Beatrix had moral qualms regarding Section's philosophy. However, what truly separated Christine from Beatrix was that Beatrix could become a cold-blooded killer if the situation called for it. She had always been deadly efficient. Beatrix could kill on a mission, and simply not think of it the next day. Erik wasn't sure Christine was ever capable of killing.

It was the photographs of Christine that he saw next, merely random pictures he had taken of her out and about. He had been watching her for around three years before he brought her into Section, gathering as much information as he could. Christine was different from the other operatives. Around ninety-five percent of the other operatives have killed before coming to Section. Section simply offered them a new life in the place of one behind bars. Christine never killed, and yet despite the fact Erik had recruited her anyway.

I'm sorry, Christine. I'm so sorry.

Erik came across another photo of her; it depicted the eighteen-year-old participating in her school's talent show during her graduating year. He let himself a brief smile at her get-up. She had chosen to sing Marilyn Monroe's 'Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend', complete with the tacky pink dress, bright red lipstick, bleach blonde hair and her 'harem of male followers'. While the song didn't allow her much room to showcase her talents, he learned very quickly after that she was quite a skilled singer, much to his own delight. Erik had been gifted with music as well, but that was yet another part of himself that he hid from the world.

Hunching over, Erik held the photos of his Christine close to his heart, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he let himself cry out his grief.

It had been two weeks since Christine had spoken to Erik or to anyone else for that matter. Section had not called her in yet, and she was beginning to think they had forgotten about her. She was becoming rather lonely by herself, she had been reluctant to go and meet other people outside of the Section. Not to mention it didn't help that Erik had never bothered to visit her. She could only guess that he was still angry with her from before, not that she blamed him but still it made her sad. A knocking on her door broke her train of thoughts.

If everyone thought me dead… who would be visiting?

Quietly, Christine stepped into her kitchen, retrieving the silencer from one of the cupboards. She slowly made her way towards the door, and peered through the peephole.

Oh, Raoul…

Tucking the weapon away and scorning herself for her false alarm, she undid the many bolts on her door, greeting Raoul with a large smile.

"Hi, Christine."

"Hey, Raoul, its- its nice to see you." She said, laughing as he drew her into a quick embrace.

"May I come in?"

"Of course." Christine stepped aside, allowing him entrance to her small apartment.

Raoul turned around; he seemed to be studying her. "So, how have you been?"

Christine shrugged. "Not bad." She had to admit, it felt awkward being around Raoul again. It was as if they had nothing to talk about. Right after Raoul had 'died', her father had taken her elsewhere to help her get over it. But here he was, Raoul de Chagny was standing in front of her now, alive and well. The man walked over to her, taking her hand in both of his own.

"I missed you, Christine. I had thought that I'd never see you again," he took a moment to swallow before continuing. "And in truth if this way the only way I would rather not have." Christine nodded absentmindedly, she obviously felt the same. "I was thinking that maybe we could continue our relationship now. I mean, as long as it doesn't interfere with our work, its fine."

"Raoul…"

"There's no hurt in having something to live for in Section, Christine. Please, don't let Erik be the reason we can't see each other."

"I never said…"

Raoul's grasp on her hands tightened considerably. "You don't know what he's capable of, Christine. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." She assured him, a stern, hard look crossing her features. As if in response, her cell phone rang for the first time in weeks. She quickly pulled her hands back to answer the ringing phone. "Yeah?"

"Briefing, thirty minutes. Be there."

Christine and Erik sat at the briefing table by themselves, neither of them bothering to speak to the other. Christine was loudly chewing on a piece of gum much to Erik's annoyance while they were waiting for Operations and Antoinette to come and brief them on the next mission. When the boss finally arrived, he wasted no time getting down to business.

"This is Scott and Jane Biller." Operations said, pulling up their headshots on the hologram. "They've been married for approximately a decade. Not only have they established themselves as arch-enemies of Section, but they also have in their possession five samples of a deadly nerve gas. The gas has a limited shell life, so if they're going to use it, it's going to be soon. Retrieve the samples. Do not, under any circumstances, allow them to release it into the public. The last thing we want is innocent lives on our hands." Christine arched a brow at the mission profile.

This is new. Section is actually going out of their way to protect the innocent for once. I'm almost impressed.

"Where are the samples being kept?" Erik asked.

"In the study. It's heavily guard, hell; the whole house is heavily guarded. You'll both have to work on the inside." He informed the agent.

"How are we going to get on the inside?" Christine furrowed her brow.

"They have one weakness. Jane has a daughter," Operations spoke with an obvious lack of tact, "she is dead, but Jane isn't aware of that. You'll be posing as the daughter, Christine. If she trusts you, she'll welcome you with open arms into her home."

"Her name?"

"Jane doesn't know her name. Use your own. The baby was born while Jane was in prison, she's only aware of the basic facts. Birthplace, date, age, etc. This is all in the profile, study it, know it well. We'll set you up in a house with Erik; I believe they will begin surveillance on you in a few days."

Christine looked towards the masked man, a questioning look on her face. What did he have to do with this? Antoinette seemed to sense the girl's uncertainty and she was the first to speak up. "Erik will be playing your husband, Christine. You'll have to appear convincing as two people in love."

Oh, this is great.

Operations let out a dry snort. "Additional Intel is on your profiles. Erik, get yourself to medical. Do whatever you need to get ready, do it now. I want the mission to start by midnight." With that, everyone at the table began to leave. Christine watched Erik from the corner of her eye, wondering briefly if he was going to speak with her about what happened between them before the mission started. After quickly banking on a 'no', she instead reached out to grab his arm.

"Erik, I need to talk to you…" she began, hesitantly.

"There's nothing to say. Get ready." The masked man turned to leave, but her grasp on his arm tightened.

"Erik, please."

She released a sigh of relief after he reluctantly nodded and led her into his office. He sat down at his desk, but neither of them said a word. They just looked at each other awkwardly.

"Can you secure the room, please?" Erik nodded again silently entering a few digits into the touch pad on his desk. "What do you want to speak about, Christine?"

Christine rushed over to him, and she could tell he became uncomfortable with her closeness. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Erik. I just wanted…"

"You just wanted to what, Christine?"

She opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. "I just wanted to tell you that I cared for you and it didn't matter what your…"

"Don't you understand?" Erik hissed, rising to his feet. He towered over the young woman, and Christine tried her best to keep herself from shrinking back. "You stupid girl! Do you really think you are so strong and heroic that you won't be frightened? I am no fool. You are no different from anyone else!" He pushed her against the wall then, twining his large fingers into her blonde curls. Her breathing faltered and she tried to push him away but could not find the strength within herself to do so.

Erik lifted a hand and for a short moment, she thought he was going to strike her. That didn't happen; instead, he lightly traced her lips with his index finger. "Erik…" she rasped, breathlessly.

Resisting the temptation to enfold her in his grasp, Erik pictured her frightened features should she ever see what he hid beneath his mask. "Leave it alone. Leave me alone." He snarled.

"Why are you being like this?" She cried out, garnering all the strength she could to push her supervisor away. Christine wrapped her arms around her body, fighting with all she had not to cry in front of him.

"Christine," he cleared his throat, almost casually. "You might want to take Raoul up on his offer."

"What? How do you- " Before she could even finish her question, a knock sounded and Erik wasted no time in allowing the intruder inside. Christine was both relieved and annoyed that Antoinette had interrupted, but she wanted to know how in the world Erik was aware of what Raoul had asked of her…

"Here, before you two get ready, I needed to give you this." Antoinette pulled from her pocket a baggy consisting of three rings. She passed it onto Erik, who in turn emptied the contents into his hand. He slipped his own ring on his wedding finger before turning back to Christine. He softly took her hand in his own, and Christine inhaled sharply at the gentle contact. After slipping the rings on her finger, he brought her hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss upon the ivory skin.

How can this man be so mean one moment, and gentle the next? Why is he doing this to me? Never can I tell what he is truly feeling…

Christine swallowed down her anxiety as she watched his false affections. "Do I have to love, honour, and obey?" She asked him quietly, a challenge gleaming in her eye.

A smirk crossed Erik's features and he shook his head. "No, I only ask for one." After garnering an expectant, haughty look from her face, he continued calmly. "Just obey."