Thank you again for all the reviews! I'm really glad you're all enjoying the story still! Sorry about the long wait, there were a few kinks I had to work out in terms of the rest of the plot. Hopefully, updates will not be so long in between again. Enjoy!

~Donttouchthefigs

Christine's headache didn't abate until Monday, and still, Mrs. Giry told her not to come in, to rest, and that they would manage. Meg also took off, giving a lot of part-timers the chance to pad their paychecks. A friendship as long as Christine and Meg's was not one to fester. Though more serious than ever before, it was not as if this was their first fight. A week of silence from both parties in the past had aided such ills before. Now, however, they did not have the time.

It took another half a day of questioning before Meg was satisfied. Her main focus was Erik's addiction, of which Christine found no evidence, and was armed with Nadir's assurance. "He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his place at the opera house. I think I even take second to his music."

That settled, and after a good round of ShopRite Brownies and a viewing of The Edge, Meg retracted her claws. Though she did extract a promise from Christine to focus more on quality time between them. Christine did so faithfully, especially after finding out that Meg and Phillip had broken up some months ago without Christine ever noticing the difference. "You were busy," Meg said, "It was around the time you were first crying about Erik."

After that, Meg insisted on more than a little TLC. Christine's resemblance to her corpse-like lover had been extremely disturbing to Meg and her parents. At every meal they tried stuffing her until she almost split at the seams, and Meg spared no expense with the treat bag she brought home from the store. Christine considered Mansion De Giry a space out of time, where sugar didn't 'rot' the throat, and Coke never tasted better than the first sip after a year of refraining.

Christine had to admit, though she missed Erik terribly, lounging about with Meg and talking about everything and nothing as they used the latest Korean face masks by the illumination of a hundred scented candles in her attic room was heavenly. She turned off her poor, overworked brain and let the hardest decision she made be what color of polish did she want Meg to use on her nails?

Also, without secrets and caveats and nervousness, talking to Meg about her man and life just felt so good. So right. Once again, they were open books to each other, after cramming a few chapters. Her icy optimism lovingly cooled any worrying passion Christine could dream up.

"You, both, are gonna be a trip," Meg said, shaking the bottle of pink glitter and adjusting Christine's foot on her thigh. "You both are totally ready to believe the absolute worst outcome and never hope the for the best." She glanced behind her at the muted TV. They were waiting for Say Yes To The Dress to air a new episode, though they were only half watching the previously recorded marathon.

"He is worse than me. I swear I could shake him until his teeth rattle sometimes."

"Oh, huh, gee, I wish I knew that feeling."

"Yes, yes, I know Meg. You were right, you were right all along, I should have listened to you." But Christine's smile removed any venom the statement might have carried. Besides, it was true. If only she had been braver before, if only she had spoken up, if only she had told the truth, their beginning may not have been so violent. If she had stopped waiting for happiness and home to come to her and reached out and taken it.

Meg smirked, testing the dryness of the base coat on Christine's toe with her finger. "See, I don't understand how you keep forgetting."

"Anyway, I can't tell you how many times I had to repeat that I didn't want Raoul. He just kept saying I should, and that I shouldn't be with him! And he barely spoke a word when that cop was just assuming he knew what the situation was."

"Well, in that case, maybe it was best. You said he does have a temper, and Raoul was all 'you don't understand Meg, men like this will get their partners to say anything we need to remove her' and wouldn't listen to anything else. Seems like you avoided the spark from reaching the wick on that one."

"And I'm glad he cares that much. But...it was like Erik was defeated without even trying."

"He doesn't have a lot of 'w's in his book, babe. I think you're just going to have the be patient. He was patient with you when you waffled about lessons."

Christine curled her fingers into quotes. "Patient, he showed off then bribed me until I said yes." She felt her stomach twist. She missed those times. She wanted that back, the teasing, comfortable times. Would they ever have that again, after all this pain? Christine clutched his ring at her throat. Meg had given her a long chain to put it on after it had slipped off her finger while she slept.

Yes, Christine had to believe they would. Had to have the strength to try. She'd fight for them too. "I just wish he'd fight a little too," she murmured.

Meg lifted her eyes, stopping mid-swipe. "...I wish you could tell him that. Two months is excessive, I mean really..."

"I did look awful" Christine rationalized, trying her hardest not to wallow in bitterness. "And he will have Nadir."

But Nadir was no Meg. If Christine could dream up horrible fates, Erik was a master dreamweaver. And Nadir had stated outright he didn't think this was a good idea, that Erik wasn't ready. She prayed that his attitude at the theater had indicated a change of heart. She prayed he wasn't at home now, reconciling Erik to giving up his lover and student altogether.

And if he was, she hoped that same flare of unbridled rage she'd seen focused on Raoul was enough fire to get Erik to hold strong. I have his ring, to give him comfort. Let it comfort him, It certainly did Christine. The ring had been present ever since she'd seen his hands, a relic from their older happy times. It was a part of her Erik, the teasing, pushing, gentle Erik who sat just a little too close to be platonic when they bent over her computer, the man who kept all her ice cups and showed off with a little waggle of his head. With each rub of the onyx, she felt a calm wash over her.

A ring to ward off other men, a ring to remind her that somewhere in all the silence, her duet waited to be joined again.

"Not anymore. Or, at least I've done the best that I can. Not a miracle worker."

Christine grabbed one of the silk Chinese pillows and thumped it on Meg's head. "Thanks!"

"Hey-hey I'm workin' here!"

Meg finished and picked a bottle of red glitter for Christine to return the favor. Three toes in she asked, "Speaking of work, what do you think I should tell them?"

"This truth bender you're on seems to be working so far."

"Okay, but 'I fell off a stage hard enough to knock me out then slept at two different guy's houses after screaming in the parking lot' isn't going to go over too well."

"As scary as it was to see you peeling out of the drive, it's not the worst fight that lot has seen. Last week when you were at lesson Sorelli and her boyfriend went to town because he found out she was fooling around with Detective Khan, and-"

"She WHAT?"

They decided it was best to go with a simple version. She and Music Angel fought in the parking lot because they were dating. Yes, that Music Angel. She had tripped and hit her head and he had taken care of her for a few days, not wanting to risk her being sick from a concussion. Meg declared the gossips needed nothing more.

"I'm going to have to figure out how to return his clothes without seeing him," Christine mused as they hung up their coats in the back room before their shift on Monday. "I don't want to make waves with the law. Maybe I could go to the theater and give them to Jules."

"Who?"

"Erik's assistant-the usher manager at the opera."

"He has an assistant? How rich is he exactly?"

"He lives underground Meg, he needs some help. And anyway, I didn't exactly ask for a figure between it all."

"I raised you better than that. You should at least know his FICO score." She grinned directly into Christine's exasperated glare. "I don't think that's a good idea. Just keep them here and give them to Detective Khan, he'll be here sometime. Erik's staying at his house, right?"

Sometime turned out to be three days later, and luckily the detective had the same idea, coming into the store a minute before she clocked out with a bundle of clothes under his arm. He was in street clothes (jeans, boots and a nice turtleneck under his peacoat), and again Christine was struck with how handsome he might have been once, as a young officer. She glanced at Sorlelli, and deemed the girl lucky, even if she hadn't gone about it in quite the correct fashion. "How are you feeling," was his first question, as she came from around the bar. "How's the old noggin?"

"Better. The ache is gone, but the bump is still there," she said, touching the back of her head. "How's Erik?"

"Erik manages."

"Oh good, he does it to you too."

"It started with me," Nadir said with a chuckle, handing her the bundle. "Your clothes."

"Oh good, wait here, I have his." Christine hurried into the backroom, clocking out. She juggled the two piles of clothes, trying to transfer one from her bag and the other into it. Her own articles slipped and she barely caught them before they slid to the dirty floor. An envelope fluttered from the folds of her shirt and floated down to the tile. With quick hard shoves, Christine stuffed the cloth into her bag and bent to pick up the lost letter. A last note from Erik before radio silence?

Grinning, she tore into it, but there was no message inside. Instead, she pulled out a Chase Bank check for…

Back in the cafe, skidding to a stop before Nadir, she tugged him away from the counter towards the corner where the comfy seats where. "Is he insane?"

"Oh, you found it."

"Take it back." She thrust the $3,000 check at him, but Nadir held up his hands in surrender.

"I can't. He told me to deliver it, and he said to not touch it again once you had it. He is also cooking all the food now and I don't want to make him angry."

"I don't need it."

"He said to pay your rent since you missed so much work-"

"It's more than my rent."

"And then he said to use the rest as you see fit-"

"He can't, I'm not taking his money. I don't want his money." She wanted him, she wanted this whole hiatus over with already so that they could have their days back. Erik's relationships were transactional, Nadir had claimed and Erik expected people to take. She wasn't going to be one of them.

Nadir was pulling out his phone shaking his head. "And then he said to show you this." He had opened the screen up to his text message with Erik.

Nadir
Gave it to her.

Erik
Good. She'll protest. Tell her to pay her rent.

Erik
And use the rest for whatever she may want, that she deserves it.

Nadir
Okay, but you know she's not going to take it.

Erik
Then show this to the little viper: Take the money. I want to make sure you are taken care of, that I have done no more damage to your life now that you've decided to live it with me. Take it or I will not show you the organ.

"...Viper?" Christine glared at the phone. It was an empty threat, wasn't it? He wanted to use the organ for their tracks… But, like before, it was all he had to coerce her with. Just like the stage mirrors a year ago. She tried to keep the amusement from lifting her lips and failed. Oh, Erik. What had Nadir said also? He tended to go overboard? Never does anything halfway.

Still, three thousand dollars.

"I'll think about it." She handed the phone back. "Sorry, I interrupted your socializing."

Nadir gave her a kind smile, and it warmed her a little. They were connected now, in some small way. After all he had witnessed, and all she had endured. And all they cared for Erik. "Don't worry. January will be here before you know it. I'll try to keep him in one piece."

Her smiled brightened. Maybe Nadir was in their corner after all. "And yourself."

Christine didn't know what she ought to do with the damn piece of paper, so she elected to stuff it in her wallet and think about it later. Bundling up in her sweater and mittens she headed out the back way, to the ill-fated patio. If only…

No, no more wasted time gazing back over the hours or years wasted. She was going to fight for her happiness, no one was going to give it to her. And that meant having to think positively. Having the strength to hope.

Someone was there, reading as they nursed their drink, and the cars were stacked around it waiting in the drive-thru. She had let the knobless door swing behind her before she realized she parked in front, that she had her car today because there were no lessons.

Her mittened hand fished out the ring again, squeezing it. Well...she'd go home and clean, that's what she'd do. And buy groceries, since her fridge was probably filled with expired products, if anything at all. Then she'd sing some by herself. She couldn't slack off, even if there were lonely weeks ahead of her. Erik would have her in a sling if she showed up again and her voice cracked.

Christine sighed. She'd give anything for one of his lectures right now.

"You sound so sad."

Christine blinked, her head swiveling around, trying to find the sound of the small almost childlike voice that had sounded like it was right next to her.

"Here. Right here. It's such a lovely place to be, around your neck."

Christine looked down into her palm. With a rush, she looked again at the lone patron, his back to her, his felt fedora tilted just right. She took a step towards him, then brought herself up short. No, no she didn't want to be in trouble with the law; and they weren't speaking, technically. She was speaking to...her ring. No contact with Erik. Altering course, she went to lean against the railing of the patio, her back to the figure.

"You're a magic ring?"

"Does being alive constitute as magic?"

"Sometimes I think so."

"Why do you sigh so?"

"I miss my...teacher. My man."

"You're free! You should be happy."

Christine frowned a little. She was about to say she had always been free, that no man forced her to sit and endure all she had and she was mistress of her own actions, but it wasn't quite true. She was free now, even if she had to take a bump on the head to realize that she had been trapped by her own fears and hesitation, so obedient to their demands.

Once clear-headed, however, she had freely chosen Erik, the thick-skulled ass, again and again. "You're right, I'm free. I don't have to hide how I feel anymore, and everyone knows that I'm in love, and I can talk about it freely. But I can't be with him all the same."

"You're with your friends! And you can talk to whomever you choose! Why mourn a monster?"

"Erik is not a monster. And if you keep talking like that back into my shirt you go." Christine smirked when she heard the man behind her choke on his sip. "I want to talk to Erik. I've told him so many times he's apart of my life, just like everybody else. And...I wish I could speak to him now more than ever."

"And why is that?"

"I'm worried about him."

"Creatures like him always manage."

"He's not a creature, either. He's a man. He proved that to me himself." Christine passed her wool-covered thumb over the onyx. "I wish I could tell him that...that I miss him. And I love him. And I can't wait to start our life together. And that...I'm worried for him."

"Worried he will not stay a man?"

"Worried that he's going to give up. You see, you must not have been paying attention. He continued to tell me to leave him. That I should want someone else. He had this whole story written out where he lost me and it was justified. I want him to fight for us. He's fought bravely before, and I know I'm not as important as his other battles-

"That's not true!"

"-Well thank you. Still. He fought for me to take lessons, he fought for me to be in his opera house, even though that got a little sidetracked. But when it comes to me being with him."

"Singing and working in the opera house are all goods things. Having an old man for a lover is not."

"Doesn't he want me to have a choice?"

"Yes!"

"Does he think I'm stupid?"

"No! Not at all!"

"Then why does he think I'm too dumb to choose what's best for me? Does he think so little of my opinion?" Christine waited, even pretended to lift the ring to her ear to hear better. Trapped in her logic, Erik apparently had nothing to say to that.

"...He does wish to fight for you. He almost did, and it would have been disastrous for everybody's health. He wished to take you and return home and never let you near that boy again. He'd turn me into an...an engagement ring if he could. But he must wait. He must not think of absconding to your apartment in the night. He must be a man, not a phantom. And men are responsible."

Christine was stunned, the word engagement hitting her squarely in the chest, robbing her of any other worry she wanted to impart on him. Engagement...marriage. That was certainly not giving up.

"See? Such horror for the idea, as there should be."

"I am not horrified," she gasped. "And...and if he could think that after all I've told him in the kitchen then...then I really am going to knock sense into him!"

"You're a half a foot too short. But you'd make a good try of it I am sure."

"I go for the knees." A shared chuckled, and Christine found herself grinning, her cold cheeks stinging from the stretch. Engagement. "Y-"

"Erik, yalla!"

Christine jumped at Nadir's voice. He was standing by his car, calling. She kept her eyes firmly down, not moving as she heard the man rise behind her. After all, she'd been talking to her ring...not Erik. Technically.

She felt him pass behind her towards the stairs, stopping only at the railing. Glancing up she caught a flash of golden eyes behind a black mask before he was taking his long strides across the parking lot. "Finished flirting?"

"Shut up and get in the car. What were you…?"

"You should think again about coming here. The staff tends to talk to themselves."

Christine shoved the ring back into her shirt, grinning as Nadir's brake lights disappeared up the lane. Engagement. If he could, he'd marry her. Well, they had known each other a year, that was as long as anyone else took to decide. Husband and wife. Mrs. Khan-

Oh. They'd have to discuss that. She grinned again and hopped a little on the spot. He hadn't proposed, not really. But he was thinking about it! They'd have to discuss their shared surname! They'd have to discuss a future, together. All thoughts of doubt and struggle had fled her mind.

Instead, her brain was flooded with music! Not just her half of the duet strung anew with another verse. No, this song was Erik through and through. The counterpoint he played to her melody. A low, humming, seductive tone that was her gentle, passionate man. Like velvet, like night, like a first kiss in the firelight… And words! Words flooded her tongue, begging to be let loose into the frigid air on the smoldering tune. Analogies of night and music and worlds created within were forming without her consent as if they were simply waiting to be built, and her mind desperately tried to keep up. She had to rush home, she had to capture these notes before they were gone!

I have to tell Meg!