A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for the feedback! I saw a few new readers found the story—welcome aboard! :) And as always, thank you to the readers who have been with me on this story from the beginning. You guys are awesome. :)


-o- Chapter 12 -o-


Christine was in the middle of a very lovely dream when the creaking of her door startled her awake. Through her tightly closed eyelids she could see the form of her mother walking toward her, but she kept her eyes closed until it was impossible to ignore the women as she sat down on the edge of Christine's bed.

Sighing as the bed lightly sagged, Christine forced her eyes open and looked up into the brown eyes of her mother.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," she remarked.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Christine said, "Yeah, it was pretty late. I had to take Meg home and get her situated, then I had to give her back her dress and get one for tonight… and then try to talk her out of giving me the cleavage dress and failing miserably…"

Raising an eyebrow, Katherine said, "The cleavage dress?"

"It's just… not something I even want to think about right now," Christine stated, shaking her head. "You'll see it before I leave for work."

Smiling slightly, her mother said, "You've slept half the day away, thank heavens you've made it up in time to go to work."

As those words seeped into Christine's sleep fogged brain her eyes shot open and she sat straight up in bed, looking to her alarm clock, fearing that she had overslept. "Oh no, how long did I sleep?" Upon looking at the clock, she saw that it was already eleven o'clock. Groaning, she threw back the covers and said, "Mom, why did you let me sleep so late?"

"You work too hard, you needed the rest. Besides, you don't have to be at work until four."

"Yeah, but it's an hour into the city and I still have to get ready," Christine said, opening her closet and tugging the sexy red dress off the hanger. "I need a shower. I have to do my hair. Oh, I'm never going to make it in time!"

"Honey… you don't work until four."

"I have a music lesson," Christine stated. "I told him I was going to get there early."

"Who?"

Shaking her head, Christine said, "It doesn't matter. Look, I really need to get ready, so…"

"Fine," her mother said, shrugging. "Anyway, there's mail for you on the table."

"I don't have time for mail," she muttered, making her way into the bathroom to take the quickest shower of her life and then try to wrestle her hair into submission without being too late to make dinner for Erik.

To her credit, she moved like lightning, and by noon she was grabbing her coat and scarf and just about to slide them on when her mother came back in, her eyebrows merging with her hairline as she caught sight of Christine in the sultry dress and the sexy red high heels.

"That's what you wear to music lessons?"

Christine blushed a little, mostly because she had actually stopped arguing with Meg over her choice of dress for work that night specifically because she was going to Erik's and she wanted him to see her in it.

"It's what I'm wearing to work, but I have to squeeze it in where I can." Once her coat was on as she wrapped her scarf around herself, Christine picked up the envelope on the table with her name on it, tearing it open figuring she would just scan it real quick and see what it said.

By the time she was halfway through the letter, though, she felt her heart start racing and her eyes widen.

"I figured it was probably junk mail, but just in case I thought I'd save it for you."

"Oh my gosh," Christine said, shaking her head as she read the last lines and the turned the paper over as if looking for a catch. Instead of a catch there was another sheet of paper with a check attached.

"What is it?" Katherine asked.

"A scholarship," Christine stated simply. "It says that one of my teachers recommended me and I've been selected."

"Well, that's great, honey! You worked so hard filling out all those applications and essays—"

"This isn't one of those, I don't know what this is. I didn't apply for it."

Frowning a little, Katherine said, "Well, you better make sure it isn't fake. Does it say which teacher recommended you? You could ask them to verify."

Erik's words from the day before came floating back, the way he wrested the promise from her that if she got a scholarship, she would look into an apartment and she shook her head, amazed. "No, it doesn't say, but I have a pretty good idea. I'll find out if it's legit today, but I've gotta get going."

With a wave of her hand, Christine was out the door and on her way to Erik's.

-o-

Using Erik's exclusive elevator made Christine feel a little bit special, she realized as she stood inside, watching the floors light up as she approached Erik's floor.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped forward, approaching Erik's door and rapping on it, then stepping back slightly and glancing down at the wind-wrinkled envelope in her hand. She wanted to open it and read it again, but first she wanted Erik to verify he really had recommended her for a scholarship.

When he opened the door donned in a pair of jeans and a black button down shirt, it took her off guard. Every time she saw Erik he was dressed in pressed black slacks and more formal looking clothes, so to see him in jeans threw her a little.

Especially considering she would have to take her coat off once inside—she was already warm—and then he would see her provocative dress.

He smiled when he saw her and invited her in, offering to take her coat.

Before she gave him the coat, she held up the letter. "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" he asked almost innocently.

"I got a letter in the mail that I got a ten thousand dollar scholarship. It says that if I choose a major within the music department I'm eligibly for another five thousand, and I never applied for this scholarship. I've never even heard of it."

Smiling a little, he said vaguely, "Yes, I might've recommended you. You needed the money and you're deserving, so I see no problem. Does this mean you'll be apartment hunting?"

"Did you know about this already?"

"I suspected. Are you going to keep that coat on, or may I take it?"

Ever the consummate gentleman, she thought ironically as she shrugged, unwrapping her little scarf first and handing it to him, then unbuttoning her coat and allowing him to tug it off her shoulders. Despite herself, a little smile tugged at her mouth once the coat was off and she smoothed the dress a little bit and then turned around, feeling instantly gratified as Erik's gaze moved over her as if he couldn't stop himself. The knot was designed to intentionally draw the eye to the breasts, and that was precisely what it did.

Christine made a mental note to thank Meg for insisting on the dress later.

When Erik continued to stare at her, the coat slung over his unmoving arm, she blushed a little bit, but still smiled pleasantly. Feeling a little bit devious, she did a little spin, letting the dress lightly fan out as she moved and then turning to face him again, saying, "Do you like my dress?"

Slanting a rather accusing glance at her, he said, "I do have a pulse, Christine."

Well, he wasn't calling her Miss Daaé to remind her of her position; that was something at least.

Grinning, she said, "Glad to hear it."

Shaking his head, he finally pulled his gaze away and walked away muttering something that sounded like, "You're trying to get me in trouble."

"Never," she replied innocently.

Leveling her a more unbelieving glance, he turned away, hanging her coat up and then turning back to her. "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Are you and Meg going to look for apartments now? I do remember you saying you would if you got a scholarship when I asked before."

Blushing slightly, she said, "Well, yeah, but… I mean, I didn't actually expect to get one. I'll look into it, but I don't want to spend all of my scholarship money on an apartment either. I'll have to see if we can find something really cheap. If we're looking at two grand or more a month, I still can't really afford it."

"Well, I'm sure you can find some cheaper apartments, but only if they're in a safe neighborhood."

"Yes boss," she said, her tone lightly teasing.

"I'm entitled to look after your well-being."

"Oh, are you?" she returned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered simply.

As if on cue, her coat pocket made a musical little chime. Realizing she had left her phone in the coat, she walked over and extracted the phone, opening up the new text message, smiling a little, and then pushing reply and typing back a quick message.

Frowning slightly, Erik watched Christine type.

Feeling his questioning gaze, her own eyebrows lifted. "Sorry; my friend."

His gaze darkened, and she felt a little bit of satisfaction. The message was from Meg, but she had been purposely coy enough with her expression to make him think it was Raoul.

"Doesn't he know better than to interrupt your music lessons?"

"We aren't having a music lesson yet," Christine pointed out.

"That's irrelevant. That's what you're here for. I won't have the boy interrupting our music lessons, Christine."

He kept his voice level, but she could feel his irritation emanating from his person in waves. For someone who 'didn't care' he certainly was aggravated at the thought of Raoul sending her messages that made her smile and respond to them even in Erik's presence…

Meg's words—however drunken—came back to Christine, pointing out Raoul's attraction to her and how maybe it stemmed from how unattainable she was for him. Could she provoke a response out of Erik by using a similar tactic? Whether he admitted it or not, the man seemed jealous…

When she didn't respond, he said, "Christine, I am serious."

"So, what are you saying, Erik? No boys allowed if I want you to train my voice?"

He hesitated for a moment, frowning slightly, and then a bit reluctantly, said, "I didn't say that… although it probably wouldn't hurt. While you're with me, I would prefer if you wouldn't talk to the boy. What you do on your own time is none of my concern."

His response inspired only irritation in Christine and even though she didn't mean to, she snapped, "If I were with you then you wouldn't have to worry about me talking to Raoul. Since I'm not, I'll do whatever the hell I want with him, whenever I want to do it."

Erik looked vaguely surprised, but before he could utter even a word Christine was making her way into his kitchen to go about gathering some cooking supplies.

-o-

Over the course of the next week, little changed unless you counted the increasing level of stifled frustration that seemed to envelope Christine every single moment that she was around Erik—and since she was around him so much, that was pretty much her normal state.

Erik continued to ignore the underlying intolerance that Christine was beginning to emanate in his presence, and Christine grew more irritable with each passing day. The fact that he invaded her sleep on a regular basis didn't really help matters, as she wasn't sleeping overly well, and the frustration of her feelings was beyond all tolerance. She liked Erik, and she knew that he liked her. The stubborn man may not want to admit it, but she could tell. If he didn't like her, he wouldn't be so averse to the idea of her dating Raoul—not that she was dating Raoul, but she had stopped reassuring Erik of that. On Friday she even took it a step further—Raoul had offered to meet Christine after class so they could have lunch before she went to work, and she agreed, telling him to meet her outside of her music theory class.

Just to ensure that Erik saw Raoul, Christine had grinned and waved at Raoul as she gathered up her things, allowing Erik enough time to look and see who she was waving at, and then she shoved her bag on her shoulder and—without even saying goodbye to Erik—made her way over to Raoul.

If he wanted to continue to ignore the attraction between them, she would torture the damn man just like he tortured her.

On Saturday she showed up to her second private lesson of the week, but before she even removed her coat, Erik was approaching her and saying, "Before we start out lesson, I want to show you something."

With her coat half off her arms, she raised her eyebrows. "Should I take my coat off?"

"You can," he said, nodding. "We're not leaving the building, only going to the floor below."

"Is that your apartment, too?" she asked in disbelief.

Smiling slightly, he said, "No, I only live on this floor. There's a two bedroom apartment for rent; this is a safe neighborhood, close to your school, you wouldn't even have to leave the building for school. I can think of nowhere safer for you to live."

Coming to a halt, her eyes widened and she said, "You want me to live in your apartment building? That really seems like a good idea to you?"

"Yes," he said simply, as if that made sense.

"Even if I thought that seemed like a good idea, there's no way I can afford an apartment in this building. Yes, I would have Meg to split costs with, but I've seen your apartment, Erik. It's far outside of my price range."

"This one isn't," he said dismissively. "It's very inexpensive, I daresay you won't find a cheaper apartment in the entire city."

Frowning, she said, "How much?"

"The cost would be $900 a month, utilities included."

"Very funny; how much?"

"I'm not joking," he told her, absently placing his hand at the small of her back to urge her out into the hallway.

He pulled his hand way after only a split second, realizing what he had done, but Christine could still feel the warmth from where he had touched her, and it caused her irritation to spike almost unreasonably.

"There's no way that a two bedroom apartment in even a dangerous location would be that cheap and include utilities, so how did I get so lucky?"

"You must have a guardian angel," he said dryly as they stepped into the elevator.

"One that gets me dream jobs, sizeable scholarships, and unrealistically cheap apartments?"

He ignored her, pushing the button and watching the doors close. "The apartment has a six-month lease. As with every other unit in this building, regular visits are made by the exterminator—completely preventative, as in all the years I have lived here I have only seen one spider. The owner of the building pays for that, so you don't have to worry about it. It's very spacious, particularly by New York standards. Unfortunately this particular unit does not have the views my apartment has since it doesn't take up an entire floor like my apartment does, but you have a view of the street from the bathroom and one of the bedrooms." The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway, Erik leading the way as he walked to the very last door on the right side of the hallway. "You would be more than welcome to use my elevator, as well as Meg, but I would ask that you refrain from giving my code to any visitors you might have. They can use the main elevator."

"I wouldn't give your code out," Christine informed him.

Behind them, one of the apartment doors opened an a young man in a designer suit stepped out, briefcase in one hand and speaking rapidly into his cell phone… in another language.

Christine cast a questioning glance at Erik.

Smiling slightly, he said, "This building is mostly inhabited by business professionals of varying ages. We have everything from studios to three bedroom apartments, so you're as likely to see an ambitious young professional speaking to an associate in Japan," he said, indicating the man heading for the main elevator, "or a nanny taking care of the kids while the lady of the house is having a spa treatment."

"Like I said, this building isn't within my price range. I don't believe you about the price."

Erik merely shook his head, taking a key out of his pocket and opening the apartment door. "There are security cameras in the hallway, but there has only been one failed attempt at a break-in since the building was erected, so it isn't something that we worry about very much."

"Considering I would live, work, and take my music lessons in the building, I would scarcely need to leave. Tell me, is the floor below this secretly an off campus section of Columbia's music department?"

Smiling, Erik said, "I'm afraid not. I can't think of everything."

"More's the pity," she replied lightly. "How about a grocery store? Do you have a grocery store hidden in the building somewhere, too?"

"No, but we do have a five-star restaurant in the basement," he stated ironically. "I figured you might want to leave the building occasionally to see the city you live in."

Grinning, she said, "It would be nice to live in…" Trailing off as Erik switched on the lights, she forgot what she had been saying and stared, dumb-founded, at the apartment before her. Upon entering the apartment, they ended up in a little hallway with just a wall to the left, but to the right there was an open arch into the living room. Once illuminated, Christine was able to make out the fairly high ceilings—though not as high as Erik's—and the plush neutral carpeting.

The living room was enormous, especially by New York's standards where a living room frequently consisted of a small loveseat and a 19 inch television on a stand crammed impossibly between the kitchen area and the hallway. In Meg's apartment, for example, if Christine were to lie down in the floor and reach out her arms, she would be lying the entire length of the living room. If she got into the same position in the apartment Erik was showing her, she could invite about 15 friends to do the same thing.

On top of being impossibly large, the room was already furnished and decorated—pastel covered canvases hung on the wall that off to her right, a nice large sofa that was white and soft-looking propped up against it, a little coffee table with a lamp and plenty of space for something else was wedged into the corner next to it, and across from the couch sat two white sitting chairs, another coffee table placed between them, a little white bouquet of flowers adorning the top. Even with all the furnishings, there was still plenty of room in the living room alone. Further along the wall closer to the three wooden doors that she assumed must be the bedrooms and bathroom, there was also a little wooden desk with a matching chair, a white desk light sitting on top of it as if waiting for a student.

Turning to look back at where Erik was still standing in the archway, she noticed another door between the archway and the living room that she had missed.

"What's in there?"

"The bodies," he replied gravely.

Grinning, she began walking over there. "Fine, don't tell me." Peering inside, she saw a gray-hued bathroom with a sink to her immediate right, a toilet, and a little shower stall.

"I don't see a view," she stated, stepping back outside.

Shaking his head, Erik gestured to the middle door along the back wall. "That bathroom and its adjoining bedroom have the view."

"This place is amazing, Erik."

"I'm glad you like it," he replied. "You could bring Meg by whenever, but I'm sure she'll like it, too. It's a very nice apartment, especially for the price and location."

"It's too nice for the price and location," she stated suspiciously. "How exactly is this apartment so cheap?"

"Let's check out the bedrooms, shall we?" he asked.

Narrowing her eyes as he evaded her question again, she said, "Why Erik, I thought you'd never ask."

He slanted her a dry look but she merely shot him an innocent little grin.

The first door he opened was the room without the view, and he gave her a cursory glance of the hardwood floor with the area rug, the queen sized bed, the purple walls, and the walk-in closet that he told her about but didn't show her.

"This would probably be your room," he stated as he led her out of that bedroom and into the one with the view. "I like this one better, plus it has the view and its own bathroom."

She definitely liked that one better. The walls were sort of a burnt brownish orange color, there was a huge window to the right with a really nice city view and the room seemed almost… sensual. Like the other bedroom, it had hardwood floors, but it was covered mostly by a thick Persian rug which was situated under the bed. There was a golden chaise at the edge of the bed with a tasseled red pillow on top, an intricately designed lamp hanging above. The bed sat behind it, made up in burgundy and gold, and there was a gauzy canopy of deep red hanging from the ceiling back along the wall, draping down until it disappeared behind the bed. To the right side sat a little end table, and on the opposite side of the bed hung a large gilt mirror. Further to the left there was a burgundy upholstered chair with a golden coverlet over the back, and two doors—on to the left, one to the right. Opening the one to the right she saw a bathroom with a small window view, decorated in burgundy and gold, and the other door was a large walk-in closet complete with a little upholstered bench in the middle to sit on in case you got tired of looking at all your clothes. Along the back wall there was a mirror with three lights above it.

Stepping back into the bedroom—and bumping into Erik—she took another look around and stated, "I feel like I'm in a harem."

Smiling slightly, Erik said, "It does have a bit of a harem feel, doesn't it?"

Quirking an eyebrow, she said, "Have you been in a harem?"

His smile deepened at the note of disapproval in her tone, but he merely glanced around the bedroom. "Of course, the décor could easily be changed if you didn't like it."

"Question—why is 'my' bedroom furnished and even made up as if I could hop in and sleep here tonight, but the other bedroom just has a bare white mattress?"

Shrugging guilelessly, he replied, "Who knows? At any rate, do you like it?"

"I love it. I still don't believe it's only $900 a month though. Who is this owner and when do I get to see him?"

"As it happens, you only need the apartment manager to be present to sign off on an agreement, not the owner. His name is Bill Wilkins and he lives on the second floor. If you want the apartment, you have only to show up, sign your name to the rental agreement, and then you're ready to move in."

"And Bill Wilkins is going to tell me the same thing? That it's $900 a month?"

"I'm quite certain Bill Wilkins will tell you precisely that if you ask."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, "Did the last occupants turn it into a meth lab or something? It just doesn't make sense."

"Never question good fortune," he advised. "I assume you would need to bring Meg through before signing?"

Nodding absently, she said, "As a formality, I guess. I could probably bring her through tomorrow—do you think we would be able to go through it again tomorrow?"

"Certainly."

"And why do you have the key? Shouldn't Bill Wilkins be doing this?"

"I'm fairly certain that I've been here long enough that they don't expect me to run off with the key. Moreover, I have no reason to; this is a nice apartment and rather large, but mine is nicer and larger with a better view. I don't have apartment envy."

"Apartment snob," she joked. "My apartment could kick your apartment's ass."

Erik's lips quirked upward in amusement. "You haven't even seen all of my apartment, how could you know that?"

"You're right, I haven't. Why don't we skip the music lesson today and you can show me your bedroom?" she suggested with a mockingly innocent smile.

"I don't think so," he replied, shaking his head.

Sighing heavily, she said with mock solemnity, "I knew I should have worn the other dress."

"I don't think your friend would appreciate that very much," Erik informed her.

Losing her light mood, she scowled.

Erik smiled, as if he appreciated knocking the smile right out of her teasing tone.

Inwardly bristling a little, she said, "You're right; I'm sure he would much prefer to give me a tour of his bedroom."

To her satisfaction, Erik's jaw visibly clenched and his hand even fisted, almost unconsciously.

"Let's go see the kitchen," she said easily, stepping out of the bedroom and waiting for Erik to follow her.

-o-

That night after work, instead of going home, she went over to Meg's. It was a long ride home, and not one she was looking forward to, but given further thought, she wondered if it would be a better idea to just stay over at Meg's, take her to see the apartment the next morning, and then head home to do a little homework before heading back into the city for work. It was really too bad she hadn't brought some of her homework, then she could have just stayed in the city all day.

Of course, if she and Meg moved into that apartment together, she would be able to do her homework and stay in the city all the time.

The apartment still seemed too good to be true. Even though she couldn't come up with a realistic, logical explanation, she couldn't help noticing the relation between her luck increasing at impossible levels, and meeting Erik. Logically she realized that it couldn't be Erik's fault that everything was suddenly falling into her lap, but at the same time, looking at the time line, none of the good stuff had ever happened before she met him.

It was odd, and only reinforced the feeling that he was something like a guardian angel—not in the literal sense, of course, as she was all too aware of his being a man.

An irritating, obstinate, wonderful man.

Before she was even able to knock on Meg's door for a second time, the door flung open and Meg put a finger to her lips rather severely.

"Sorry," Christine whispered.

With an even lower whisper, Meg said, "My possessed roommate isn't feeling well and she needs absolute silence to sleep well. I tried to tell her that maybe she wouldn't get sick if she would digest her food, but she didn't seem to find it very funny."

"Hey, I've come at a good time then," Christine said with a little smile. "I take it you're fed up with your roommate?"

"You know those internet postings that are thinly veiled 'have sex with me and I will let you live in my apartment' propositions? I'm seriously considering looking into them."

Smiling a little, Christine said, "Well, you don't have to have sex with me, but what do you think about maybe moving in together?"

"What?" Meg exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet until Christine shushed her. Eyes wide, Meg whispered, "You better not be playing with me right now, woman. You've been telling me you can't afford it."

"Well, I couldn't, but with that scholarship Erik helped me get, I have a little bit more money, and there just so happens to be this really nice two bedroom apartment available in Erik's building, and get this—it's only 900 a month."

Blinking, Meg said, "I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong… I thought you said…"

Nodding knowingly, Christine said, "That was my response, too, but Erik swears up and down that it's 900 a month—and utilities are included in that price, everything but cable and landline, but we both have cell phones, so we don't need that, and really, how much tv do we watch?"

Frowning, Meg said, "Is this one of those have-sex-with-someone deals to get cheap rent?"

"I'm pretty sure if it required sex, Erik wouldn't have suggested it," Christine said dryly.

"Maybe he likes boys," Meg suggested sympathetically.

"No, I'm pretty sure he likes girls, he's just… more stubborn than any other person who's ever existed. The point is, he took me through this apartment today, Meg, and it is amazing. It makes this place look like a closet and a dump. We both have walk-in closets, it's two bedrooms, two bathrooms, it's already furnished. We will probably never find another apartment like this under four or five grand a month… well, ever again."

"And he's sure that it's only 900? That doesn't sound right."

Shrugging, Christine said, "Erik seems to be capable of making anything possible."

"What is he, God?"

"Maybe," Christine replied with a nod. "I mean, at the very least, he's probably one of the head angels."

"He certainly is making your life cushier," Meg admitted, a bit contemplative. "It just does not make sense that he isn't trying to sleep with you. More than that, he's rejecting your advances. It doesn't make sense. Why do all of this for you if not for sex?"

"I know, right," Christine said, rolling her eyes. "Just when you want a guy to be typical, he isn't. You better believe if I had a professor I didn't want to be lecherous, he'd be all over me."

"That's how it always works. Did I tell you Conor quit talking to me?"

"Did he? He didn't seem happy after the night at the bar."

"Yeah," Meg said, shrugging. "William called me though. Funny thing is, I barely remember him. According to him, I agreed to go to dinner with him to some little restaurant in the east village he was telling me about."

"You probably did. You were all over him because he spoke with an accent and called you 'love.'"

"Hey, women for many years before me have done stupider things when some dashing Brit threw that word around at them in a bar."

"Definitely true. You might have been one of them if I hadn't come to your rescue."

"You will always be my knight in shining armor, Christine," Meg declared.

"And you will always be my damsel in distress," Christine returned easily, grinning at her friend. "You notice how we're not being quiet anymore?"

Rolling her eyes, Meg said, "Please, she can bite me. I'm moving in with my best friend."

Grinning, Christine said, "We have to go through the apartment before we decide for sure, but at this point it's a formality. I know you're going to love it."

"I can't wait. Do I finally get to meet the Naughty Professor?"

"Not if you insist on calling him that," Christine stated. "I've already had to call in to question your skills at discretion."

Gasping, Meg dramatically clutched her heart and said, "I can totally be discreet, just not so much when I have 10 gallons of alcohol coursing through my veins."

"Well, in the interest of you not dying, you should probably refrain from doing that again."

"No kidding. I felt like someone had killed me twice the following day. Oh! Speaking of health, does his building have a fitness center?"

Nodding, Christine said, "The basement is obviously the restaurant where I work, then the main floor where the lobby is has a fitness center, a little lounge, a mail room, and a Panera Bread bakery-café."

"No way," Meg said, wide eyed. "Is there a Disneyland on the second floor?"

"Nope. Sadly the building designer seems to have forgotten both Disneyland and a Columbia campus. Erik said they do have laundry facilities on every few floors, though—that's the only thing that sucks; we don't have in-unit laundry in our apartment."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle that," Meg assured her friend. "This place sounds great."

"Wait until you see it. My bedroom looks like a harem."

"You already picked your bedroom?"

"Well, actually Erik kind of assigned me a bedroom. If you don't like the other bedroom though, you can have it."

Grinning, Meg said, "Nonsense. If Erik assigned you a bedroom, I imagine you have to take it."

"Listen, would you mind if I crash here tonight so we can go look at the apartment in the morning?"

"Not at all," Meg assured her. "How soon before we can move in?"

"Erik said all we have to do is sign the paper and we could move in as soon as this week."

"How does Erik know so much if he's just a tenant?"

"I can't know for sure, but I assume that he is probably all-knowing," Christine stated solemnly.

"I don't think I'd want to date someone who's all-knowing."

"Well, it's a good thing you won't be dating Erik then," Christine said lightly.

"Oh, speaking of people we're not dating—what are you doing about Raoul? The guy obviously likes you, and you obviously like Erik…"

"And Erik obviously doesn't want to date me," Christine reminded her friend, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not doing anything about Raoul until I have to; right now I am enjoying being single and that means I am entitled to talk to Raoul or anyone else I want to talk to casually."

"Well, now that Conor and I aren't talking anymore, I don't know how often I'll be hanging out to act as your buffer. The guy's bound to start getting impatient about the progress of your relationship here eventually."

"There's no progress, there's no relationship; Meg, I just said we're only friends."

"You and I are friends, and we don't kiss."

"Are you jealous?" Christine joked. "Because maybe after we move in together, I can give you a little extra affection if you're feeling left out."

Rolling her eyes, Meg shrugged and said, "Fine, we won't talk about it. Just don't come whining to me when Raoul thinks you're entering girlfriend territory and you don't want to."

"If I don't come whining to you, who will I whine to?"

After a brief pause, Meg nodded. "You make a good point. Fine, I guess you can come whining to me, but I'm definitely going to say 'I told you so.'"

"Okay, that's fine," Christine said. "In the meantime, could you get me some pajamas? I'm exhausted."

"Of course, future roommate," Meg replied brightly, practically skipping down the hall to her room.


A/N: If I'm not mistaken, the next chapter should be a fairly juicy one. :) Reviews = food for author! :) Please and thank you!