Christine slept peacefully as all angels do.

Erik had remained still beside her for several minutes before he rose from the bed to watch her. He didn't bother with any lights, he could see everything.

Yes, my beautiful Christine. My wife, my love! You should sleep. It has been a long and tiring day for you. The last day of its kind, I promise.

Christine had kissed him. It had been real, of her own will. She chose to lift his mask and kiss his misshapen lips, touch him with her perfection. A moment that would be stored along with the rest of this golden time with her, his only happy memories.

Erik had been speechless, too stupid and numb to grovel and thank her for such a sacrifice while she'd been awake. He wondered what she had thought of the kiss. She had not screamed, and her expression had held no disgust or hatred- what was on her mind?

Erik decided to leave the room. His mind was tormenting in its restlessness. Of course he could not sleep. The kiss replayed over and over in his mind, his imagination chasing every possible scenario- Christine becoming so overcome with disgust that she dies right there on the spot; Christine coaxing him into making love; Christine lifting the mask and looking into his eyes, the magic words of love falling from her lips onto his…

Erik turned and walked to the door, feeling relieved somehow to be away from his wife. His mind was filled with Christine! Those penetrating jade eyes, that luxurious fall of wild onyx hair, her radiant smile, her kind and giving spirit…it was enough to drive a man insane while his heart beat a tattoo of Christine, Christine, Christine with every beat!

Erik took a breath as he walked down the hall and went downstairs. Again, he turned no lights. He didn't want to wake anyone, and he could see well enough on his own. The moonlight streaming in through the many windows was a great aid as well. However, he did not like what he could see.

Look at this fate that has fallen upon my house!

Erik growled like an animal in irritation as he looked over the state of the many rooms on the ground floor. His home was very large and with the only permanent resident being his mother, Erik could understand that several of the rooms would go unused, but really!

There was dust on every surface, cobwebs in every corner. Heavy tarps had been draped over the furniture and wall paintings in some of the rooms. Erik encountered several locked doors, and he shuddered to think of how many years had passed since the doors may have been opened and the rooms aired out.

No more locked doors, he decided as he paced the house. His angel, his mistress, didn't deserve a tomb. Christine deserved a real home; to be surrounded by art and music, magic and most of all, love.

Erik's love, if she would have it.

His mother presented a problem. How could he spend time with Christine, how could she come to love him if Giselle was always about spitting her venom? That was what Erik had wanted- for Christine to spend time with him, to come to know him and perhaps, in time, come to love him.

She had proven her trust to an unthinkable, monumental extent; Christine had proven that she cared for him and wanted for Erik's happiness but it was her true love, even if only a tiny spark, that he wanted.

Not her compassion, not sympathy and certainly not her pity.

Don't think of all that now- you have a home to rebuild.

Erik stepped into a side study and shook his head as he removed the mask. The cool air flew over his face and sent gooseflesh down his body. He took a deep breath and then spent several minutes coughing and sneezing painfully as he'd breathed in a lungful of dust.

Gods, Giselle, how could you have let this happen? Erik inwardly raged as he went into the kitchen- one of the few clean rooms on that floor of the chateau. Perhaps William wasn't completely useless- the old man was too handicapped to even hope to clean the other rooms, but out of necessity the kitchen was very tidy.

Erik helped himself to a glass of water to better clear his throat and began to scrounge through every cabinet in search of food. By his own admission, Erik rarely ate but a voracious appetite had claimed him. The brutal fight with Trapoi had occured only hours ago that morning, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. Erik's ribs were bruised, but he always healed quickly. After fleeing from the island and then traveling to mainland France, he felt physically and mentally exhausted.

No wonder Christine had fallen asleep beside him so easily! It occurred to him then, that he had not eaten since the night before, when they had cooked a meal together, but eaten it separately. Christine had not eaten since then either, but she had not yet voiced any hunger to him. It must have been their overloaded nerves that had caused them to forget their appetites. When she awoke in the morning, Erik reminded himself to have a big breakfast waiting for her.

He stood before the refrigerator in something akin to wonderment. After twenty years spent traveling the world, and several of those years spent in Tejar alone, Erik had forgotten one of France's greatest passions- the food.

A wonderful selection was before him, and as he was so taken with hunger, Erik made up several bowls for his meal. A small bowl of cold strawberries, a larger bowl of spinach salad, a bottle of red wine and a full plate of some kind of pasta creation. Erik assumed it was lasagna, but didn't care to investigate. He was hungry, and the food was delicious.

As he sat at the kitchen island eating, Erik made a list of all that needed to be done for the house and for Christine. When dawn broke, he would need to access his French accounts and see what funds he had to work with. Being trapped in Tejar by the Queen in his secret enslavement had kept him from spending much time outside the palace walls, much less spending any of his earned finances.

There should be plenty of money in reserve, and more on the way once he found a way to benefit from the things he'd brought back with him in his large satchel. It was strange to realize that he was now unemployed. Erik would search the classified ads of the morning newspaper, but he doubted that anyone in Paris was in the market to hire him on as an assassin or designer.

Well, one never knew what there was to find in the city, but he supposed that they would be well-off for at least the rest of the year with the resources he had in reserve. When the issue came up, he had faith in himself that a solution would be found for money.

Erik munched his salad and glanced into the short corridor that led to the main salon in the front of the house. Maintenance workers and a cleaning service would be the first calls to make in the morning, he decided, and then gardeners and plumbers and interior decorators…perhaps while they worked on the house, he might sneak away with Christine for a few hours.

To walk the city with Christine on his arm, how divine! He would be ecstatic to take her to a stage play, or to a film, buy her anything she would see along the way…buy her things, what did a woman need? What did she want? He had no idea where to begin. What experience did he have in that matter, after all?

William had placed their bags in the guest room they shared. Erik imagined that Christine had taken a few mementos from her home- photo albums, surely- along with all the clothes that she could manage to fit in her case.

Erik sipped the wine and licked his lips, his large eyes roaming the kitchen. A magazine of his mother's was on the counter. Elle. Erik took it and, flipping through its glossy pages, ideas for Christine began to occur to him with no end.

Clothing, shoes, jewelry, perfume…lingerie…Erik's eyes helplessly lingered over an advertisement for La Perla, the pouting model easily replaced with the image of Christine posing before him in the satin and lace underthings, the mystery of woman…

There was a commotion at the front of the house and, startled, Erik dropped the magazine. The front door had opened and he could hear the voice of a man and woman, both giggling and talking loudly. Erik leaned around the corner for a better look.

It was Giselle, obviously a little too far into her cups; she had stumbled into the house on opening the door. It was already past two in the morning; the date for the evening must be winding down.

Erik scowled as he watched his mother and her date laugh drunkenly in the foyer. Nothing has changed! You spend all your time in the arms of strange men! The only real difference between then and now is that you're older while the age of your dates has remained the same!

"Nicolas, you are the most generous man in the city," Giselle gushed as she cuddled into a dark fur coat. Erik's eyes narrowed- she hadn't been wearing it when she'd left, was it a gift?

Nicolas, a strong man in his late thirties, smiled indulgently at her. "It suits you. When I saw it in the shop I knew that only a woman of your caliber could wear such a fur,"

"Do you really mean that?" Giselle asked, blushing like a young coquette.

Erik rolled his eyes. Nicolas smiled and brought his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. "I do. But as much as I've loved seeing you in the fur, I'd love to see you out of it,"

They kissed deeply then, and were soon upstairs, leaving the front door wide open. Erik reined in his frustration. Nothing changes.

He moved out of the shadows and closed the front door, locked it, before returning to the kitchen to finish his salad and wine. Where was I? Oh, yes, in the morning, and all that must be done…


Christine woke to the sound of voices. Not hushed whispers, but screeching shouts coming up from downstairs. Her eyes opened slowly, and as she returned to conscious thought, she realized that she was not in fact curled around Erik, but a large pillow.

How embarrassing!

She shoved the pillow onto the floor and got out of bed, following the voices. A clock on the wall revealed the time to be near 11 in the morning, much later than she usually slept. Christine peeked out of the room and cautiously walked towards the noise. As she came closer to the first floor landing, the voices became distinct and she groaned- Erik and his mother were in a screaming match.

"I don't care what you think, this is my house and has been since before you were born!"

"This house has fallen into filth thanks to your neglect- the workers are on their way and there's not a damn thing that you can do to stop it!"

"How dare you!"

"This is my home- by father's will, it belongs to me and I'll do as I please with it. You've had it your way for decades, but now you will submit to these changes."

"Erik, you can't just-"

"That's where you're wrong, Giselle, I can and I will! The workers are on their way and I've arranged to pay them triple their already inflated rates if they can finish by the end of the day. That's just for the interior; I have gardeners coming tomorrow to repair the damage that your negligence has caused to the grounds. I'm warning you, do not get in my way over this,"

"Oh, and what am I to do while these strangers tramp all over my home?"

"Do as you like, why not what you do best? Spend my money and go on fucking any man you can find with a bankroll,"

There was a high-pitched screech of frustration and a slamming door. Christine looked over the railing to see Erik practically stagger into the front foyer directly below. "Erik?" she asked, her voice nervous.

A mask of striking jade turned up at her question. "Oh, Christine, you're awake!"

"Hard to sleep through that," she said pointedly.

The mask was a plain face, but Erik's voice and body language gave it personality. He nodded and brought a hand to his hair in a show of slight embarassment. "Ah, that. Yes…you may find in your time here that my mother and I do not always see eye to eye."

"Seems more like you two never see eye to eye to me,"

Erik nodded as he came up the stairs to join her. "You are very astute. I'm sorry; I know that was not an ideal way to wake up. But I can make it up to you! I've made plans for the day," he said eagerly.

"So I heard. Workers are coming?" Christine asked.

Erik reached the landing and came to her, slowly reached to brush her palm with his fingertips. He didn't venture more than that, though he did pause a moment to look at as she was- scantily clad in her powder blue set from the night before, her hair mussed attractively, smiling at him.

"It...it's a maintenance crew. I've convinced them to come out and take care of the house while we're gone," he said quietly.

"Gone?" Christine asked as she followed him back down the corridor to their room. Erik opened the door and guided her inside.

"Yes. You told me that you adore Paris, and today I want to take you out to see some of the city. Anything you want! Go ahead, get dressed and then come find me downstairs, I'll make you breakfast."

Christine's stomach chose that moment to roar at the mention of food.

Erik's eyes put a smile into the mask's plain face. "Mmm. I'll go get started,"

He turned then, and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone in the bedroom. Christine shrugged to herself and went to her suitcase to retrieve some fresh clothes. She frowned once she saw the wrinkled state of her plain t-shirts. The room had a bathroom in connection and she wasted no time in taking a quick shower.

She toweled off and dried her hair. The face that looked back to her from the mirror was not such a pretty sight. Christine hadn't packed her makeup along for their escape- she'd had no idea that Erik had had a full chateau in Paris; she'd had no idea where they were headed when they left her home. Her face seemed gaunt and her eyes were tired.

I'm just hungry, and this week has been one nightmare after another- God, I'd kill for some peace and quiet but if Erik wants to leave the house, I shoul go to make him happy. I'll be fine, I just need to eat.

A headache was already threatening to split her skull, but again she chalked it up to just being hungry. Christine tossed on a pair of jeans and a purple t-shirt. When it came to her feet, she'd only taken her standby tennis shoes with her. Not really an outfit for the city, but it'll have to do for now, she thought with a shrug.

She went downstairs and her mouth instantly began to water at the scent of food. Someone was cooking something heavenly! Christine followed her nose and found Erik in the kitchen. Set before her was a small feast of omelet, sausage, fruit, toast and coffee. Her eyes went wide at the sight, "Oh, Erik, you're wonderful…" She breathed as her stomach growled.

He looked at her for a long moment before he motioned to a chair and set a plate before her. "You'll need your strength today, my pet."

Christine liked the endearment and didn't hesitate to dig in to her breakfast. Happily, she remembered that the last time they'd eaten together was in her island home. She wondered if they might ever cook together again, and someday maybe even eat together, without fear of Erik's true face. "Care to share what you've got planned?"

"I'd rather not ruin the surprise. Eat. I'm going to check in with William and leave my instructions with him," Erik disappeared then, and Christine ate. Once her stomach was full, her mood improved tenfold. The headache disappeared, and she felt her energy return. She was Christine again.

No sooner than her plate was clean did Erik return for her. He stood before her and took her hands. The smile was in his eyes, "Oh, Christine. Today the city is yours."


Christine had been to Paris only on a few special occasions- several of them being to accompany her father whenever he came up to the mainland on business. Even then, there hadn't been much time to absorb the culture and remarkable sights.

Erik had said that the city would be hers, and he had never lied to her.

Just seeing the sights of the Eiffel Tower and some of the lesser-known monuments such as the Arc de Triomphe and Sainte Chapelle had been amazing. She'd never dreamed that she might tour the City of Light with such a strange companion.

Christine glanced up at Erik beside her and smiled to herself as they walked down a street, arm in arm. He was so happy to share his home with her, and she felt proud of herself for becoming the bright spot in his otherwise dreary and blood-soaked life.

There was an immense weight to her place in his life now- Christine thought of herself as Erik's muse, and because of his intense devotion, she took it as a duty upon herself to be as beautiful, desirable and kind to him as she was able. It was a dangerous thing to be a man's only hope, but Christine had always gone into things headfirst- to her, it was the only way to truly live her life.

They had passed several designer boutiques, and Christine only had to pause to admire a dress in a window or a piece of jewelry in a display case and Erik would turn to her, saying, "If you want it, it's yours! Just say the word, and you'll have one in every color,"

To which Christine would only shake her head and laugh. Soon she would have to go shopping for a new pair of shoes and a few new shirts, but of course she had taken her wallet with her when they had left her home; when the time came for her to go shopping, it would be at regular department stores, not designer boutiques, and she was more than able to pay for herself.

Erik had done far too much for her already; he'd risked his life to save her, Christine didn't want to add a running tab in her debt to him.

After many hours, they stopped before a fountain square and Erik gave her a handful of euros. "Why don't you go off and have some lunch? I'm sure you must be hungry."

Christine shrugged. "I am, a little. What about you?"

"Mmm. You go ahead and eat; I'll meet you back here in an hour. I have a bit of business to tend to is all."

Christine was slightly disappointed that they would break company, no matter how short a time. She genuinely enjoyed Erik, he was a remarkable man. Still, she knew before even asking that Erik would refuse to eat with her. He would not remove his mask in public or in private and she had no true desire to see his face.

She nodded and shrugged in her casual way. "All right, I'll see you in an hour,"

Erik nodded and turned to walk off in the opposite direction.

What business does he have to take care of? She wondered. Oh, he's probably going to check on the progress at his house. Ha! I'll bet they haven't even worked through the first layer of dust yet!

Christine glanced down at the money that he'd given her for lunch and she gasped. There was nearly 1,000 euros in her hand! Quickly, she pocketed the money and looked around. Erik was gone, out of sight.

With this much money, I could take a taxi to the airport and get a ticket to anywhere in Europe…but I don't want to, she realized. Christine knew now that she was safe, and no matter her reasons, she knew that she couldn't hurt Erik in such a way.

If Erik returned in an hour and she did not, Christine knew that he would be distraught, blaming himself for her disappearance. He was too kind and Christine cared too much for her strange hero to abandon him so callously.

No, I'm not like all the others. For his sake, I can't be.

Christine patted the bulge of money in her pocket and glanced around, looking for a restaurant. She wasn't terribly hungry, so she walked further down the street until she came upon an outdoor café. A pleasant-faced red haired waitress sat her at a table that faced the busy sidewalk. As a croissant was eaten and her cappuccino was sipped, Christine watched as people passed her by.

Paris was a cosmopolitan city, and so she was treated to the sight of all kinds of people walking down the street. Perhaps because the city was such a mix of cultures and oddities, no one had made a scene over Erik's mask. Well, he was a strange sight, but hardly worth a second look when compared to the street performers and monuments that attracted the tourists.

The mask was no bother to him; certainly Christine had grown accustomed to Erik's habits by now.

Once she finished her coffee, Christine let her eyes wander and as she glanced across the street, her eyes went wide. Between a shoe store and a bakery, there was a cyber-café. Without a second thought, Christine dropped several notes on the table and bounded across the street.

Honking horns blared at her, but she paid them no mind. A moment later she was through the doors and sitting before a screen, typing furiously. She accessed her e-mail account and found several concerned messages from Raoul, Meg and a few other concerned friends from home that she'd left behind on the island.

Guilt tugged at her heart. Everyone was so worried about her, and here she was sightseeing with Erik. Speaking of…

There were about ten minutes left to spare before she had to go back and meet Erik. Ok, first thing's first…Christine thought as she clicked on Raoul's most recent message.

'Christine, I got your letter but none of this adds up! I can't tell you how relieved that I am that you're ok, but I have to see you with my own eyes to be sure. Who is this man you married? You never mentioned anything about seeing anyone new, and I'm sure you know how angry Meg is about all this! Just please, please, please reply back to me as soon as you get this! I want to see you just to be sure that you're all right.

Love from Raoul'

Christine cleared her throat and quickly typed out, 'Raoul, I promise you that I'm all right, but I understand that you want to see me to be sure. I can't express to you how sorry I am about leaving so abruptly but it's not something that I can really explain…'

Her message went on for a few more lines, but all in all it was very brief. She apologized several more times for worrying him and not being able to tell him more, but she assured him that everything was fine and ended her e-mail on a high note, telling him how beautiful Paris was and saying that she hoped to see him again soon.

Meg's message was more direct than Raoul's note had been, and also much more annoying to read.

'Christine, OMG I'm so happy that u r ok. Y didnt u tell me about the new guy or y u left? U gotta write back 2 me NOW and tell me evrything!'

I hate computer jargon, Christine thought in irritation as she typed back to Meg, reiterating everything that she'd told Raoul. She thought that it would be nice to invite them over soon when the house was finished, but she didn't dare dream of giving away Erik's address without his permission.

Lord only knew how he might react to uninvited guests!

The screen was quickly closed down and Christine ran back to meet Erik beside the fountain as she'd promised. As she walked back up the street, she had to wonder if maybe he'd given her so much money and time to herself as some kind of test- he might not trust her enough to keep her promise of staying with him.

The thought saddened her.

Erik was waiting when she reached their meeting place. He had his back to her, and was staring ahead at the fountain's centerpiece statue, a beautiful nude woman plated with gold. Erik tensed when he felt her come up beside him. On impulse, Christine slipped her hand into his. His amber eyes held her, shining with his still foreign happiness. "Christine, you came back!"

So it was only a test, she thought unhappily. Christine smiled through it though, and squeezed his hand playfully. Maybe this is actually a good thing; now Erik knows that I will come back to him even if I have the means to escape. We need to trust each other...

"Of course I came back, I've been having a great time," she told him in full honesty.

Erik nodded, his eyes narrowed as he smiled behind the mask. "It makes me very happy to hear you say that."

"How's the house coming along?" She asked as they started walking again.

"What do you mean?" Erik asked her.

"Well, that was the business you were attending, right?"

"Oh, no that was something else, actually. What do you say to a walk through the botanical gardens before we head home?" Erik asked quickly. It was plain he meant to change the subject, Christine was no fool, but she took his hand and let him lead the way.

It was only a few blocks to the south when they came upon the gardens. Christine let go of Erik's hands and bent to get a closer look at some violet flowers. "It's a wonderful garden, but it can't hold a candle to what we saw in Tejar," she laughed.

Behind the mask, his eyes smiled at her. "Of the few things that country excelled at, horticulture was certainly one of them. I think that you may find your life in Paris more enjoyable though,"

"I would hope so! Who knows what they would have done to me there? At least here I know that I'm safe with you," Christine said as she took Erik's hands in her own and laced his spidery fingers with her own.

She does not cringe away from me...could she ever...?

Christine stepped away and Erik followed her to a bench set in a bower formed by trees. There were other people milling about the gardens, but here they were afforded privacy. Questions had been plaguing Erik's mind since the moment it had happened, but only there in the cover of the waning light did he feel ready to ask, "Christine…will you explain to me about the kiss?"

She froze. What?

"Um…well, you were there, Erik. I don't think I need to describe it." Christine said, trying to be playful and keep the mood light.

No such luck, Erik would not allow her to brush aside his question. "You know what I mean. Please, tell me why you kissed me. I have to know if it was just another sacrifice of yourself made out of pity, or if it meant…something else…"

I knew what it would mean to you Erik, that's why I did it. It was no sacrafice of myself, I really do care for you...

Playing her part, Christine raised her hands to rest on his shoulders. "Erik. I kissed you because I like you. If you'd only let me, I'd raise your mask right now and kiss you again." She was not lying to him- to her a kiss was only a touch of lips, barely more than a handshake, but to Erik it was a gift that he'd never expected to receive.

Christine strived to make him happy; she felt powerful in her ability to please him. Erik longed for her, and Christine truly had come to care for him. As the woman in his life, his object of desire and affection, she felt a determination to heal him, to show him that he was not beyond human love.

Christine could show him true love, even if it was not yet the sort of love that he longed for.

Erik's hands shook slightly as he gripped her wrists, not trusting her hands so close to his face. One quick move was all it would take to reveal his face in the light. His eyes darted through the garden. There are people all around, there's still too much sun…

"No, I won't let you see-"

"I know you won't. But I will kiss you tonight." She said the words gently, but with an unmistakable air of finality.

Erik didn't understand how she could say these things to him, much less actually follow through with her word. He didn't understand kindness or caring from people. It was foreign, almost mythical to him. "You'd kiss me again? Why?"

"Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I just want to." She returned flippantly, tugging at her hair.

"You're not making any sense," Erik felt that he might die at the enormity of her intent. That she would kiss him willingly, not once but many more times, was staggering.

"I know I'm not," Christine pulled back and looked into his eyes. "I would be lying if I said I hated you. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like you, because I do. I enjoy our time together. I enjoy you."

She brought a hand up to cup the cheek of his mask, "I know you've never heard this before and it's easy to think the world hates you, but then you'd be wrong. I like you Erik, I care about you, and as much as you don't want to believe me, I'm looking forward to another kiss. Aren't you?"

Erik couldn't say anything for his shock.

A wind picked up the perfumes of over a hundred blossoms, carrying the scents with the angel and the demon as they returned back to the lonely chateau.