Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story except for the few you do not recognize.

Author's Note: Thanks again to my reviewers for reviewing. Special thanks to my wonderful editors Penmora Zenith and Musicallover who are also my friends, and a special thank you to my friend Pertie. They make it possible for me with their encouragement, support and friendship.

Chapter 28

Still

Saturday

Erik awoke slowly. Before he'd even opened his eyes, he felt a heaviness in his heart. It took awhile to remember why it was there, but when he did, he wished he hadn't. He couldn't believe it'd been two weeks since he'd been with her, since he'd made love to her, and he wished she were here now so that he could be with her again, holding her, smelling the sweet scent of her skin, her hair….

God, how he missed her. It was as though an integral part of him had been torn away. He got up and walked to the bathroom, quickly taking a shower, and then strolled into the kitchen, foregoing a robe. He poured himself a small glass of orange juice and went into the living room and stood, resolutely looking out the window toward the ocean. He'd never taken Christine to the beach, although he did take her to an island, and now wished that he had. Even the simple things seemed precious now…walking hand in hand down the street, sharing a joke, smiling across a room. He sighed deeply.

He knew Roan wouldn't waste any time making his move. He was familiar with his type: rich, privileged, waiting for an opportunity before he pounced. He wondered if he'd already made it. Would Christine be so quick to accept his advances? Could she already have? All these thoughts were like knives piercing his skin. I know she loves me, but it's been two weeks, and Roan has been highly attentive.

He'd been missing her desperately, and every night was a struggle not to call her. He missed making love to her most of all. Each day would bring a dull ache to his heart, and his need for her would almost outweigh all reason, forcing him to relieve himself almost daily or go mad with want and desire for her. For the first time in his life, he had seriously considered taking a prostitute, or call girl as the more exclusive ones were called. So rampant were the emotions now coursing through him that it necessarily found expression in his music, and it was in this way that Amir knew that something was wrong.

It was about six in the morning when Amir walked in outfitted for biking and he found Erik in the studio playing a new piece on the piano. He approached slowly, taking in the unfamiliar strains, and noticed that Erik was nude, which he found particularly strange.

"New piece?" he asked tentatively.

Erik merely looked at him and nodded as he continued playing.

"Change your mind about going riding?"

Erik stopped playing and looked at him. He closed the cover over the keys rather loudly and silently rose from the seat, walking toward his bedroom as Amir followed.

Amir made himself comfortable in one of the chairs as Erik went about gathering his clothes. Amir watched his friend as he picked through the clothes in his drawers and from the closet, laying everything out on the bed as he donned the pieces one by one. Amir had an idea of what was bothering him, but thought it best to let him broach the subject himself. When Erik was completely outfitted, they took the elevator from the living room down to the car condo below the parking garage.

Erik had included the car condo in his original plans for the Phil, and its exclusive use was outlined in his contract, along with that of the musical director. Between Erik and Amir, there were about twenty vehicles housed there: cars, motorcycles, and assorted recreational vehicles and trailer hitches. Erik was glad he'd had the foresight to include it in his design for they used it frequently.

They selected their helmets and boarded their motorcycles. They each had a Ducati, an Italian motorbike known for its speed and styling. They sped out of the garage and onto the streets of San Francisco, which were still fairly empty this early in the morning. They sped northward until they reached the Golden Gate Bridge and then made the journey across its expanse. Erik loved the feeling of freedom as they rode side by side, the wind rushing past, no sound but for the roar of their engines, and in the company of his best friend. The Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay lay on either side of them, and the waters were a clear greenish-blue for as far as the eye could see. Soon, they reached the small coastal town of Sausalito on the other side.

They drove down the sleepy streets until they reached a favorite breakfast spot: The Mudhen. It was on a typically nondescript street near the water, and as they parked their bikes and removed their helmets, they entered through the screen door and made their way to their usual booth near the back. A young waitress quickly approached their table and smiled warmly, leaving a couple of menus and place settings for them. They opened their menus and ordered bacon, eggs, grits and toast.

It was a perfect morning, peaceful and quiet. Erik imagined Christine still sleeping peacefully in her bed and wondered what she'd be doing as the day wore on. He enjoyed the quaint shops along the main street in Sausalito and thought how nice it would have been if they could have explored them together. Amir also seemed to be deep in thought as he ate his eggs and grits. Erik was glad to see Amir stay with one woman for once and hoped it would last. He knew that Amir had much to offer someone, but that it would take a very special woman to tame him. Many women had tried, but would ultimately have their heart broken as he moved on to the next. Erik was certain this was due to their past in Persia, but knew that Amir had worked hard to leave that man in his past.

"How's your song?" Amir asked suddenly. He knew that Erik was most likely already prepared for the Christmas Gala with both the song and his piece, but he wanted to bring up the subject of Christine.

Erik looked up. "It's fine, it's ready. And the piece is ready, too."

"Your new material is different from the stuff you'd written just a few weeks ago. What's up?"

Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes before replying. "I haven't seen nor spoken to her for two weeks. Since what happened last time, I don't know what to say to her. She's never going to leave it alone."

"If you're not going to take it off and she's not going to leave it alone, then I'd say it's time to move on."

Erik looked down at his plate. "I was thinking the same thing," he said softly. "But there'll never be anyone else for me."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I can't wait another twelve years to fall in love with someone. I gave her everything. It's just not in the cards for me."

"Can you really give her up to Roan?"

"She could do worse. He's rich, comes from a good family. And he could help her get ahead in her career. And he's handsome," he added ruefully.

"I don't think looks are everything to her."

"Thanks a lot."

"You know what I mean. I believe she does love you, and I think she'll stick around even after she's seen you."

"But it means too much to her. If she can't accept me with it, she can't accept me without it."

Amir looked at him steadily, as if appraising him. "You're good at twisting words, my friend, but this time, you're wrong."

Erik looked at him, but didn't reply. He returned to his breakfast before asking finally, "Have you told Megan yet how you feel?"

Amir stopped as he was about to eat a forkful of grits. "No, but she hasn't told me, either."

Erik was impressed. "Smart girl. Have you seen her dance yet?"

"Yes, I have. She's very good. She'll be hired no problem if she auditions. What about Christine?"

"Yes, she'll be hired. She sings better than Victoria, that's for sure."

"Then that's got to be an improvement," Amir nodded.

As they finished breakfast, they went up to pay their bill and Amir noticed the young waitress surreptitiously glancing at Erik when she thought he wasn't looking. Amir realized that Erik would have thought she was looking at his mask, and true to form, would be oblivious to the fact that she was looking at all of him. Amir shook his head. Erik had no idea how he looked to others. Dressed as he was in his motorcycle gear, long hair and sunglasses, he looked as though he'd stepped out of an advertisement. It wasn't unusual for them to be stared at as they rode their bikes, and while Amir appreciated the stares of men and women alike, Erik always did his best to ignore them, always imaging that they were staring at his mask, even when they couldn't see it behind his helmet.

It was still early morning and the streets were just now starting to stir with activity. They rode up to a bluff that overlooked the Pacific Ocean and sat at a picnic table to enjoy the spectacular view. In this part of the country, clear days were not taken for granted.

Amir went into the storage compartment on his bike and took out a camera. Never one to waste good lighting, he set the camera up for delayed snap and proceeded to take a number of pictures of them together and individually against the backdrop of their bikes and the blue Pacific. Erik was amused by Amir's activities and wished that he'd also remembered to bring his camera. When the sun had climbed a little higher, they decided to head back home to the city and enjoyed a leisurely ride back.

When they'd parked their bikes back in the car condo, Amir turned to remind Erik before he left, "Don't forget, this is the last week before the Christmas Gala, so we'll be having dress rehearsals. You'll get a schedule Monday."

As he took his leave, Erik took the elevator back up to his apartment.


Saturday night

Christine had just finished dinner and decided to settle down with a good book, a thriller. She settled herself on the living room couch and surrounded herself with a glass of lemonade, snacks, napkins, cell phone, and laptop within easy reach. It was her intention to read tonight since she'd neglected it for so long, and she was determined to follow through, barring a trip to the hospital should anything unforeseen happen. It was about seven o'clock and she contently began reading as Pinecone lay in her lap asleep.

It was about seven-thirty when her laptop announced an instant message, and Christine looked up instantly, hoping it was Erik. It was Roan, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

SeraphM: Hi, sweetheart. Busy?

AriaMaven: Hi, Roan. Just reading.

SeraphM: I wanted to apologize for last night.

AriaMaven: Apologize?

SeraphM: Yes, for taking advantage of you. I'm sorry.

AriaMaven: You don't have to be sorry.

SeraphM: I don't? Why not?

Christine paused. She wasn't sure how to say it.

AriaMaven: Because I was glad you did it.

Roan looked at her reply and wondered what she really meant.

SeraphM: Why were you glad?

Christine had to think about it.

AriaMaven: Because I missed how it felt.

SeraphM: Christine, it's no secret now how I feel about you. I'd like to see you again.

AriaMaven: I value our friendship and I still want us to be friends, but I'm still with Erik.

SeraphM: But you haven't seen him in two weeks. Are you sure you're still together?

AriaMaven: No, but I'm still hoping things will work out.

SeraphM: I understand, but I want you to know I'll still be here for you. Don't forget that.

AriaMaven: Thank you. I won't forget.


Monday

Erik had been in his studio most of the day composing and practicing his piece for the Gala, but when he went downstairs to the theater, he noticed a definite excitement in the air among the cast and crew. Rehearsals had been going smoothly for the past few weeks and cast members had been getting their costumes fitted for a week in preparation for tomorrow evening, the first day of dress rehearsals.

Erik made his way to the back of the theater towards the wardrobe department to find his tie and tails for playing his piece, and then the pair of snug-fitting black pants and flowing silk shirt to wear during his song. Fortunately, he was the only one to wear these pieces, so he knew they wouldn't have to be fitted. It was a large room filled to the rafters with costumes and accessories of every description, and there was no one back here now since it was later in the day, so he was free to look in peace for what he needed.

He'd been there looking through the racks for a few minutes when he thought he heard voices.

"No, that's quite all right, I'm sure I can find it myself."

It was Joanna, and she sounded nervous.

"I know this theater like the back of my hand," said a mature, masculine voice. "No one knows it like I do."

"I'm a fast learner, I'm sure I can manage," she said nervously.

"How fast are you?" he asked. "You're European, aren't you? Yes…"

"Um, I really need to go…"

"Why don't you show me how fast of a learner you are?" he said as he approached. "I once knew a European woman, her name was Eva. You remind me of her."

"No, don't…"

"You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He grabbed both of her arms gently, and directed her towards a chair.

"Don't…. Please let go of me…," she said worriedly, trying to pull away.

"Will you relax?" He held her tighter as he pulled her toward the chair.

"Let go of me!" She started to struggle against his grasp.

"You need to be more quiet. People will hear, and we don't want that now, do we?" He held her tight enough to bruise now as he tried to set her down in the chair.

Erik could hear the sounds of a struggle and it sounded as if Joanna were frantic.

"Let go of me! Let go of me!" she cried as she fought to escape him.

As Erik came upon the scene, he could see that Joanna was panicking and would soon hurt herself if she continued.

"What's going on here?" Erik stepped up and took her from the stage hand as he looked at him sternly.

The stagehand's eyes flickered between Joanna and Erik. Finally landing his gaze on Erik, he gave a small smile. "Nothing at all, Mr. Dupont. She just needed guidance, that's all." Without another word, but a slight nod towards Joanna, he quickly disappeared through the set construction.

Erik took her arm and led her away down the corridor. When they had moved far enough away, he took her into another room so she could calm herself. Joanna was still breathing rapidly and he could tell that she was still shaking.

"Joanna, are you all right?" he asked gently.

"I…I don't know what happened. I just don't like being grabbed like that."

"Henri is harmless, I'm sure he just wanted to be friendly and probably just went a little overboard. But maybe you'd better stay away from that department for awhile."

Joanna nodded, holding her arms to keep from shaking. "I was just looking for the wardrobe department and got turned around," she said haltingly.

"Stay here and I'll get you some water."

But before he could leave, Joanna unexpectedly grabbed his arm. "No, please don't go! Don't leave me here!"

Erik was surprised at Joanna's death grip on his arm. "It's all right," he tried to assure her. "He won't come in here, you'll be fine."

"No, don't leave me!" Joanna grabbed him around the waist tightly and laid her head on his chest. "I don't have anyone!" she cried.

Erik was surprised by her fear and put his arms around her, hoping to calm her. He'd forgotten that she'd come to this country alone and that everyone she knew and loved was half a world away. He could feel her trembling, and could tell by her breathing that she was still shaken. He gently stroked her hair and tried to shush her.

After awhile, she seemed to calm down and she relaxed her grip on him somewhat.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked gently as he looked down at her.

Joanna nodded and raised her head, and as she looked up at him, proffered a gentle kiss on his lips.

Erik was stunned. Her lips were so soft and unassuming…

As he stood there frozen in shock, she noticed his confusion and kissed him again, just as softly, but this time, gently lingering.

She feels wonderful…so wonderful…

As the kiss continued, his lips parted, and he felt her tongue enter his mouth and caress his tongue gently. It was wonderful.

He could feel himself responding to her…


Tuesday

As she dusted the last shelf and replaced the merchandise, Christine thought sadly to herself that she may as well face reality. It'd been over two weeks and she hadn't heard a single word from Erik. That could only mean that he was no longer interested in her. All those words of love, all of their shared experiences…in the end, they were just memories. But how could he forget her so easily? He said he loved me! How can someone forget so easily?

It was almost time to close the store for the night and even as she began putting things away, she could feel the heaviness in her heart and the dull pain that always accompanied it whenever she thought of Erik. She wondered how she'd ever get over him. The door chimes sounded, and as she looked up, saw that it was Roan. He looked rather somber as he approached the counter.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said as he kissed her on the cheek as had become his custom when greeting her. "What's the matter? This is your second to the last day at the store, I thought you'd look happier," he smiled gently.

Christine felt like her heart was bleeding, so painful was her sadness. She didn't look at him when she replied sadly, "It's been over two weeks, and I haven't heard from him."

Roan went to her and placed his arms around her. "I'm sorry, baby. Sometimes things just work out that way. But it'll get better, I promise."

Christine shook her head. "I know, but it just doesn't seem that way right now. I could have stayed with him forever."

She sighed and then went back to closing up the store. She locked the door and turned out the lights as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. "I just don't know what to do with myself now. He was everything to me."

"Would you like some company? Maybe we could watch a movie or something? I promise I won't attack you," he said with a smirk.

"Thanks, I'd like that."

They walked into her apartment building and climbed up the stairs. Christine took out her keys and they entered her apartment.

Erik was parked on the street, but directly in front of the store this time. His tinted windows rendered him invisible, but he was close enough to hear everything. She thinks I've abandoned her. Oh, Christine…if only you knew. That boy has gained her trust and has gained access to her apartment. He can't wait to make Christine his own. If only there were another way…

Roan make himself comfortable on her living room couch as Christine went into her bedroom. "I'll be right out, I'm just going to change."

"Take your time," he called. As he sat waiting, he noticed the picture on the side table and picked it up to get a closer look. It was Christine and Erik Dupont in a hammock. He had to admit, it was a nice picture. He noticed that Erik's perfect side faced the camera and that he looked quite handsome. It was hard to believe that the man in the hammock with Christine was the same man who'd threatened him.

Christine came out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of comfortable terry shorts and matching top. It was obvious she just wanted to take her ease tonight and then go to bed. "Would you like some lemonade?" she asked.

"That'd be fine," he replied. He found that he just enjoyed being with her and didn't have to resort to seducing her. His day would come soon enough.

She prepared glasses of lemonade for both of them and set them on the coffee table as she looked over her collection of DVDs. "What would you like to see? Drama, adventure, science fiction, mystery…?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me, babe," he replied.

"Okay," and she popped in a mystery called The Game. "This is a mystery I think you'll like," she smiled.

As the movie progressed, Christine noticed that she and Roan never discussed a movie as it played like she and Erik used to do, critiquing the acting, directing, writing, and cinematography. She missed that, and the more she thought of it, realized that she missed so many other things that had become second nature for she and Erik to do together. As the movie played on, her mind wandered, and without realizing it, tears had started to run down her face.

When Roan looked over at her, he noticed her staring blankly at the TV while tears had left tracks down her cheeks and gathered at her chin. He hated to see her cry although he was glad she was no longer with Erik, and he gently stroked her hair from behind so that he could hold her in his arms and comfort her. Although she was grieving for another man, he intended to be there for her the moment she recovered.

Christine was grateful for Roan's comfort, and it felt good to have his arms hold and comfort her. Her heart was breaking, but she still couldn't believe that Erik was truly out of her life. She buried her face in Roan's chest as he held and rocked her gently. It felt so good to be held by him in his strong arms, and she could smell his cologne. It's nothing like Erik's she thought. She raised her head slightly to look at him, and he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She was about to move off of the couch to put the movie away since they weren't watching it when unexpectedly, his lips claimed hers again, and lingered.

Christine was confused. Should she be doing this? Was Erik truly out of her life? But he feels so wonderful. Erik's gone, but Roan's always been here for me. Roan cares for me…

And so she began to kiss him back slowly, until his tongue pushed gently into her mouth and she felt his passion trying unsuccessfully to hold itself back. She raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair, her arms going around him, and he deepened his kiss, his tongue entwining with hers. He unconsciously began to reach under her top, and finding that she was braless, squeezed one of her breasts and ran his fingers over her nipple.

"Christine, I want you," he whispered hoarsely.

She wanted it, too, desperately, needed it, but it was wrong…the timing was all wrong. She couldn't do this until she knew for certain that Erik was out of her life. "No…no, I can't do this," she whispered, distressed. "I'm sorry."

Roan stopped immediately. He withdrew his hand from under her top and stood. He walked into the kitchen.

Christine smoothed her clothing and sat up, conflicting emotions running through her. She wanted desperately for Erik to call her or IM her, or get in touch with her in some way. Roan wanted her, but she only wanted him for the comfort he could provide. She knew she didn't love him, he was just a friend. She didn't want to use him in this way. Erik, where are you?

Christine stood up and looked toward the kitchen. She'd seen Roan go in there, but she couldn't hear anything. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw Roan leaning against the counter, motionless. She walked up to him quietly and placed a hand on his arm. "Roan?"

His eyes had been closed, but at the sound of her voice, he opened them and breathed deeply. He slowly shook his head. "Christine," he whispered. "I think you know how I feel about you, but I'll never do anything until you're ready."

Christine rested her head against his arm. "I know you won't. I'm sorry."

Roan turned around to kiss her gently, and then left as Christine slowly closed and locked the door behind him. As he left her building and made his way back to his car, his thoughts were in turmoil. How long can I do this? I've never had to wait on any woman before. They couldn't wait for me to fuck them, and it never even mattered if they had boyfriends. But Christine's not like them. Erik still has a hold on her even though he's out of the picture now. But he won't for long. I'll see to that.


Erik looked on as Roan got into his car and drove away. The boy wasn't in there for more than an hour. He obviously didn't get what he wanted. Good. Christine is still mine.