Another chapter, please enjoy! :)

"I'm glad you could come, Anna." Isabelle said once the carriage set to motion. "Though I hope I'm not keeping you from your engagements?"

"No, not at all."

"I'm glad." She gave Christine a friendly smile. "It's so exciting! Have you ever had a chance to look at rehearsals or go backstage?" Christine hid a sad smile; she had lived and breathed rehearsals and theatre for 10 years of her life. She missed it, missed everything about it: the hard work, the aching muscles from hours of dancing, the smells of powdered rosin, fresh paint and plaster, the beautiful dresses and make-up, the frantic clicking of Monsieur Reyer's baton against his score stand when he was displeased, the firm yet encouraging voice of Madame Giry, the sound of her cane on the hardwood stage, the sweet voice of her Angel as it echoed in the chapel...

Christine shook from her memories, not wanting to go down that road again. That was her past and she needed to focus on her present. She could not live in the past. She was alone in the world now, with no one to comfort her. She hadn't seen Madame Giry or Meg since her wedding to Raoul and the few letters they had exchanged had not made up for their embrace. Slowly over the two years the letters had become sparse until there was no correspondence anymore. She did not know whether they still lived in Paris and now regretted her lack of contact. Maybe they would have helped her had she asked them before leaving Paris, but she knew she could not possibly risk their lives. She had seen what the men were capable of and she didn't want any harm to come to her foster family. How she longed for her foster mother's arms and her dear friend Meg!

"No, I haven't." She said and hoped that Isabelle would buy her lie. Christine had never been a good liar. Good actress and bad liar. What an irony! For a while they rode in silence, allowing Christine a moment to sort through her thoughts.

She wasn't alone, not really. Her Angel was there with her but this time... As far as she knew he was still the same man but there was something different. At the Opera house, he had chose to hide behind a cloud of mystery and darkness and had kept his distance from her, yet she had felt his friendship around her as a warm comforting blanket. Even when he had been angry and very close to losing his mind, she had felt it around her. His friendship, love, anger and grief. Now he kept her at an arm's length. Of course, figuratively speaking. They could not get any closer than how they were two nights ago. She fought the blush that rose to her cheeks at the thought, looking out of the window, so her companion couldn't see. Isabelle chose that moment to speak up again.

"Edward has told me about you but he never mentioned how you and Erik met." Christine fought the panic that rose in her throat. What should she say? She was not ready for this question and Erik hadn't told her what to say as he probably hadn't expected anyone to ask her. Isabelle must have seen the look in her eyes and hurried to apologize. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Anna! I know it is not my business. Erik and my husband always tell me that I'm to curious for my own good."

"No, that is quite alright." Christine smiled. "We may actually have that trait in common." Isabelle's chuckle filled the carriage and Christine joined in shortly. She sighed, deciding to fabricate a plausible story for her and Erik. She could hardly tell Isabelle the truth. "We have been introduced at a gathering a few weeks ago." She blurted out, hoping the other woman would believe her. She hated to lie to her for she really liked Edward's wife and in other circumstances they would have become fast friends.

"Oh! I thought as much, though when Edward told me, I was surprised. I didn't expect Erik to court anyone, not after the two women who used him and broke his heart." Isabelle said with displeasure and Christine swallowed the knot in her throat. She knew she had broken his heart and was not proud of that fact, but used him? For some reason the ride to the Savoy theatre seemed longer than two days ago. "You must be a very special person for him to notice you, after everything. It is not easy for him to find a companion, let alone socialize. I know you are curious about the mask, everyone is, and I know you wonder what it's hiding. I will tell you, for I know Erik will never allow you to see, he's very self-conscious about it. It's a birth defect and I won't lie, it is not pretty." Christine dared not interrupt Isabelle; the other woman seemed lost in her thoughts, looking out of the window before turning to her.

"You must understand, Anna. Erik has not led a happy life." Her features were grief stricken and Christine felt a tug on her heartstrings. She suspected as much but having it said aloud by someone else, someone who knew him better than her, was painful and she felt a fierce wave of compassion in her chest. "He will tell you of his past, eventually. In his own time. I just wanted you to understand and be prepared for when the time comes." Under Isabelle's imploring look, she nodded.

"Oh goodness, look at me, getting all emotional." Isabelle laughed self-deprecatingly and laid a gentle hand on Christine's. "Deep down I know that you are a good person, Anna, and I believe that you will make him very happy." The conversation only grew more uncomfortable for Christine with every passing second. She felt horrible. She wanted to let everything out, tell Isabelle the truth about her identity and beg her for forgiveness. The pull was too strong and she too weak to resist it but when she took a breath and opened her mouth to tell Isabelle what was on her mind, the carriage came to a halt. "Oh, splendid! We've arrived." Her companion smiled at her in excitement and the door opened, allowing them to exit with the driver's help.

Her legs were unsteady as she descended on the cobblestones in front of the theatre, her knees shaking slightly from both the emotional stress she just went through and the nervousness she felt in the pit of her stomach at meeting Erik again. Isabelle hooked her arm around hers, in a gesture that was both friendly and trusting, and the guilt in her resurfaced as they entered the lobby. What was she doing?

The lobby was empty save for a few cleaning ladies who bustled back and forth but soon they spotted Edward walking in their direction, smiling broadly.

"Ah, it seems like I'm just in time. Hello, darling." He moved to kiss his wife, gently rubbing her swollen stomach. He released Isabelle from his embrace and turned to Christine. "And Miss Renaud, what a nice surprise." He kissed the back of her hand.

"It is nice to see you again, Mr. McNeil."

"I persuaded Anna to join me for the rehearsal." Isabelle said as her husband led them slowly through corridors.

"I'm not sure if that was a good idea, but I guess you couldn't have possibly known." Edward smiled nervously and gave Isabelle a knowing look.

"Testy today, is he?" She chuckled and shook her head in amusement. Edward grinned and nodded. "What happened this time?"

"I wasn't here when it happened but he was visited by Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Sullivan." Christine heard Isabelle suck in a sharp breath at the names of the famous composers and watched as the older woman smiled and bit her lip. She knew that their compositions were very popular even back in France but could not find what was so amusing about the whole situation. She decided to just listen in on their conversation, feeling a bit out of place and wishing she knew more about Erik.

"I can imagine how that went."

"You wouldn't be wrong, my dear wife. Apparently the two approached Erik with the idea of Savoy performing their works."

"Oh my!" Isabelle exclaimed and burst into giggles. "I would have loved to see that! What did he do?"

"He told them to leave and not to come back as long as he were the manager of Savoy or any other theatre. He was furious and spent the whole morning raving about it to me." Christine hid a smile; she knew of Erik's temper and if he disliked the works of the two men as much as she suspected, then she was not surprised at all by his outburst. As they neared the auditorium, she heard that the rehearsals were in full swing; the wonderful music was filling the whole space around them,

"Poor Erik." Isabelle sighed sympathetically, while still grinning, and turned to Christine with a more serious expression. "I did not expect this but now that we are here, I feel like I should warn you. Erik has a wicked temper but he has learned to contain it to a certain degree."

The first time Erik had flown into a rage, she had been terrified. Even if his anger had been justified, she had been scared of what he would to her in that state. At the Masquerade Ball, he had been a compelling apparition, so very potent in his power, the anger just simmering under the surface. At the cemetery, his anger had been directed at Raoul. The last time she had seen him angry, no, furious, was when he had dragged her down into the bowels of the opera house after she had unmasked him again. She had not been afraid then, for she had known he would not hurt her. Christine acknowledged Isabelle's words with a slight nod as they entered the auditorium. She suppressed a smile as a very familiar and very angry voice rang throughout the vast space, making the music stop at once.

"No, no, no!" Her eyes sought him out and the sight was so unusual that she needed a moment to take it all in. Erik was standing on the stage among the performers, dressed in his usual black attire, although he was missing the jacket and cravat. The black vest was unbuttoned and the long sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was slightly dishevelled, giving him a more youthful and less strict look. However, he was no less of a commanding figure as he stood there with his hands resting on his hips, glaring down into the orchestra pit. Her heart started to beat faster at the sight of him. He looked so comfortable, as if he belonged there; as if he had been doing this for most of his life.

"I have told you five times that your are missing the note. You need to focus more or I will not hesitate to hire another bassoon." He rubbed the visible part of his forehead with his fingers in frustration and then addressed the rest of the cast. "Everyone back on your marks, we will start from the beginning of the aria." The singers and dancers flitted across the stage to each of their positions. Christine was pleased to see that they were not afraid of him, and the trust and respect they had for him showed clearly in their faces.

She saw Erik was about to let them begin when he caught sight of their small group in the auditorium. The surprise was evident on his face when their eyes met for the first time.

"Take five, everyone." He commanded and her pulse quickened as he leapt from the stage with the grace of a panther and made his way over to their location in the aisle. A rare smile stretched his lips when his eyes focused on Isabelle and Christine swallowed a wave of jealousy, at once wondering why she felt that way. Maybe because he had never smiled like that at her, that's why.

"Isabelle." He said softly in greeting and moved to embrace her. "How did the appointment go? Everything is well I hope?" His hand drifted over his friend's swollen belly so quickly that Christine wondered if she had imagined it.

"Yes, Erik, don't fret. Everything is as it should be." She smiled at him and cocked her head in Christine's direction. "Look who I brought today!" His eyes slid to hers, intense and curious, and her breath caught in her throat.

"So I see. Anna." He greeted and Christine could see the intent in his eyes. Was he going to kiss her? Embrace her? Both? She swallowed and waited but he reached for her hand instead and pressed a small kiss on the bare skin at the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers. A small spark of electricity spread through her body from the place where his lips had touched.

"Erik." Dear God, was that her voice, low and almost husky? She cleared her throat lightly. "I hope you don't mind. We met by accident and Isabelle was very persuasive." She heard an amused snort from Edward and light giggle from his wife, but couldn't make herself break Erik's gaze. The corner of his lips lifted in a knowing grin.

"Not at all. Please have a seat." He motioned to the third middle row and she spotted his jacket hanging over one of the seat's back near the aisle, a stack of papers and a pen resting on the seat cushion. Edward went first, helping his wife and she followed behind them, Isabelle sitting on her right and Erik's seat by her left side. She resisted the urge to fidget nervously on the red velvet cushion. However, Erik did not sit next to her and pulled himself up to the stage instead, summoning the performers again. It didn't take long until they were back on their marks and Erik indicated to the conductor with a simple move of his hand.

The music picked up and the dancers moved around the stage but she couldn't focus on them or the singing; her eyes were riveted to the man standing off the side, watching the rehearsal closely with a critical eye. He must have sensed her staring for he glanced into the auditorium, holding her gaze for a moment before turning them back to the rehearsal. She flushed at being caught and forced her eyes to the performers, her heart pounding in her chest. How could he make her feel this way?

"Stop!" His voice interrupted the music and everyone stopped. He strode across the stage, adressing the female lead soprano. "Your breathing was atrocious. You need to correct your posture - raise your chin a little bit higher, push your shoulders further back and don't slouch." As he explained all the steps, his hands moved accordingly, close but not touching the woman. Christine remembered his hands as they had drifted across her body on several different occasions and could not stop remembering the night a couple of days ago, when his hands had been everywhere on her naked skin. She fidgeted in her seat, pushing the thoughts back. "Use your diaphragm to sustain the notes and push them out." The soprano nodded, a look of pure concentration on her face as she corrected her posture.

"From the beginning of Act One." Erik said to the conductor and leapt off the stage again, gathering the papers and sitting right next to her. She ignored the warmth of his arm and leg so close to hers and focused on the rehearsal, making mental notes, remembering all that he had taught her. The act ran quite smoothly and finished on a clear high note. "Thank you, that was much better. Take a lunch break, I will see you all in an hour." The cast chatted excitedly, pleased at their manager's praise and disappeared backstage.

"What do you think?" Erik turned to his friends and Christine and without thinking she started to speak.

"The soprano was a bit flat in the last aria, the chorus is half a bar late and you will probably need a new bassoon since the current one missed the note again." There was a resounding silence in the wake of her words and she realized belatedly she had spoken out loud. She could feel the stares of her companions on her and turned crimson. Edward was staring at her in surprise and Isabelle was smiling. She chanced a look at Erik. He was surprised, but there in his green orbs she could see he was pleased and it was the pride there that made that familiar warm feeling wash over her again. She smiled a little in her embarrassment as he nodded.

"That is what I thought as well." He said softly and let a small smile touch his lips. Next to her, Isabelle nodded but Christine still felt foolish for voicing her thoughts so improperly.

"This cast works very well, I dare say even better than the one from last year. This production will be a success." Isabelle gave Erik a smile, which soon turned into a cheeky grin. "Speaking of productions, I have heard that you had a delightful visit today." Christine's eyes widened and she swallowed a gasp. Never before she could believe someone could tease the Phantom so and get away with it. Erik's eyes narrowed.

"Mock not, Isabelle." His voice turned into a growl and Christine felt the hairs on her arms stood up. This was him as she remembered - the Phantom of the Opera himself. But then suddenly the stern look on his face broke into a small mischievous grin, causing a giggle to erupt from the older woman. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was it possible that the Phantom also had a playful, teasing side to share with his friends? Suddenly she felt guilty for not trying to get to know him better in Opera Populaire. If he had revealed himself sooner, where would they be right now? She shook herself from her thoughts at the sound of Edward's amused voice.

"I think I should take my dear wife home before she causes any more trouble." He ignored Isabelle's faux indignant look and continued. "Of course, we will take Anna home as well."

"Very well." Came from her left hand side as Erik stood, stretching his hand out for her to take. She did so timidly, his warmth enveloping her hand was almost too much for her to bear. He helped her from her seat and led her to the aisle, allowing the married couple to walk ahead of them as they went back to the lobby. Christine bit her lip and touched Erik's forearm to gain his attention. He stopped and looked down at her questioningly. The couple in front of them looked back and stopped as well.

"May I speak with you?" She said softly, aware of Edward and Isabelle exchanging a look.

"Of course."

"We will wait in the lobby." Isabelle said and tugged on her husband's arm, who seemed reluctant to leave. When they were gone, Christine was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that they were standing alone in a rather shadowed and secluded hallway. She swallowed and met his eyes.

"On the way here, Isabelle asked me how we had met." Even though it was quiet, she could hear the sharp intake of breath. "I know that she is not aware of..." She paused and looked away momentarily. "...of what I do and who I am, so I told her we had been introduced at a gathering a few weeks ago." He nodded, relief visible in the green of his eyes.

"That sounds very plausible. I apologize for Isabelle, she can be quite meddlesome at times." He spoke with a fond grin; it was clear that Erik held his friend in a high regard. "Shall we?" He motioned in the general direction of the lobby and Christine nodded, falling into step beside him. As they all said their goodbyes, Erik kissed the back of her hand again, reminding her that he would pick her up for the Baron's ball in two days.

The unexpected rush of excitement almost made her head spin.