I almost wasn't able to post this today due to "widespread internet outages" that had "no estimated end." But then suddenly for this short pocket of time it has appeared! So I'll take hurried advantage before it decides to disappear again. Thanks to all your continued support! This chapter begins another shift in this little tale.

(Oh, and quick other note. The Making of a Lady is now also available in paperback!)

Anyway, onward!

XXXV

Christine was not particularly afraid of either of the two men before her, but still she was glad to have Erik standing between them, a steady and welcome presence when their appearance was so wholly unexpected.

But as she regarded them, both appeared rather startled—as if they had not readied themselves for the possibility of Erik and herself popping through the hidden doorway. Did that mean they did not know of its existence?

"Well? Which of you is going to explain your purpose first? Or shall I simply have the pleasure of evicting you from my home without a word from either of you?"

Mr. Chagny cleared his throat and sent a wary glance to Mr. Nadir. "I apologize for the interruption, but I had pressing news that I thought you would care to hear, and you are... rather difficult to reach."

Christine would have laughed at that if she wasn't so nervous for them both. Erik had listened to her when she had asked him not to hurt his previous prisoners, but this was a direct intrusion to his home—and he did not seem particularly glad of their company. And she still did not know why they were here, or if they had brought the police with them again…

"I had rather thought you would still be wandering about upstairs," Erik directed at the Daroga, his tone biting, "and yet here you are. I take it you were ever so glad to offer your services as guide. One would think you should merely begin selling tickets, so many you have brought to my humble abode."

Mr. Nadir shifted uncomfortably, and to Christine's surprise, he nodded in her direction. "Should the matter pertain solely to you, I would have left you quite alone. But since it involves the girl..."

Erik stiffened and Christine stepped a little nearer, peering out from behind his shoulder. She didn't expect anyone else to understand her relationship with Erik. They didn't need to. But she supposed from the outside, their attachment was a curious thing and he might… he might presume what had been so very true in the beginning.

That she didn't want to be with Erik and yet he had not cared, keeping her locked away until she changed her mind.

Only… hadn't that been what happened?

She didn't like to think of it that way. That made it seem like Erik had manipulated her, when it was just his sweetness, his kindness, his earnest manner that had caused her to love him.

And while she knew that with the whole of her being, she doubted other people could so readily understand it.

But no policemen were popping out from behind the walls, no detective with their brusque manners and cold handcuffs ready to haul her Erik away.

So perhaps she was wrong.

"Is it something bad?" she asked quietly, her worries swiftly taking on a very different sort than before. She had thought that things were finished when they had delivered Erik's defendants to Mr. Chagny—that they would face trial and both she and Erik could live out their days as they pleased.

But at Mr. Chagny's rather pinched expression, the saddened look about his eyes, she supposed she should not have been so confident.

Yet as he opened his mouth to answer her, Erik cut in quickly. "Perhaps we should discuss this matter in private."

Christine hesitated, a part of her agreeing with him and wanting to hide away with Boo while they sorted out whatever business had brought these two here. But that would be cowardly, and that was a tiresome thing.

"Thank you, Erik, but I think… I think I'd like to hear what they have to say."

Erik gave her a dubious look as he glanced behind him, and she could offer him no firm argument, no assurance that she would be all right with whatever they had to tell her.

Not when she was so unsure of it herself.

But with a grimace he returned his attention to Mr. Chagny, giving a nod to continue.

The man cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, touching his collar as if to straighten a tie that she realized now was curiously missing from his throat. It was an odd thing, for his top collar button to be undone, no flamboyant fabric so carefully positioned there.

She wondered at its absence, but now was not the time for such questions.

Especially not when the lawyer was looking at her with such sympathy, even as his words were addressed to Erik. "I'm afraid that... one of your guests mentioned Christine's presence while relating their rendition of their ordeal. The police would like to bring her in for an interview."

Erik snorted. "For questioning, you mean. Do not mince words, Mr. Chagny, it does not become you."

The man shrugged. "Fine. Christine has been implicated as an accomplice. And given the rather incredible nature of their stories as well as the publicized nature of your trial, the authorities are taking things very seriously."

Publicized? She had heard nothing of it, but then, she supposed she wouldn't have. She had no subscription to the newspaper, had no television to call her own. Had Erik's picture been bandied about on the evening news as they branded him a murderer? She shuddered to think of it. Her poor Erik, who so carefully shielded himself from those who could never understand him, so publically paraded for a crime he did not commit.

And now, when the perpetrators of that same crime had finally confessed, that she should be wanted for questioning—as if she had been a part of some scheme…

Christine paled, her throat suddenly feeling tight. "But I... I didn't... What was I supposed to do?"

Both newcomers exchanged looks. "Think carefully before you answer, Miss Christine," Mr. Chagny counseled her, pointedly ignoring Erik's menacing glare. "If you were to suggest that there was nothing you could have done for those in Erik's... care... then you are stating that he held you against your will. If he was not, then you were indeed complicit in their kidnapping and subsequent captivity and could therefore be subject to prosecution. So, I ask you, which was it?"

Christine flinched, and took a step backward, hating the three sets of eyes that stared at her, the confines of the room feeling oppressive about her.

She hadn't wanted this. She had done the best she could, had done everything possible to keep those people safe while also appeasing Erik's quest for justice, and now…

Now they thought her a criminal.

She stumbled further back, back to the wall with the hidden door, wanting the exit, wanting the lake, wanting nothing more to shut out these men with their impossible questions, but Erik was suddenly before her, his hands firm upon her shoulders as he bade her look at him. "Christine," he addressed her almost sharply, her gaze finding his immediately. "You are not to blame for this. For any of it. Simply tell him that I... I brought you here without your consent, that you were merely another of my prisoners, and all shall be well."

"No!" she blurted out, startling herself with the volume of it. "No," she stated again in a softer tone, although she lost none of her vehemence. "I can't do that. I won't do that. Not when they can charge you for it."

She took a deep breath, forcing down the panic that bubbled within her, turning so she could question Mr. Chagny directly. "I don't think there's any answer I can give that would make it so I could live with the outcome. So I'm... I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse to give one at all."

He smiled grimly at her response, sharing another look with the man to his side, and she grew distinctly annoyed at their silent conversation.

And, evidently, so did Erik. "Oh, for pity's sake, if you wish to say something, simply do so!"

Mr. Nadir cleared his throat. "I am... confused by your relationship," he stated softly, staring at Erik all the while as he did so.

Erik's hands fell away from her, and she noted with some worry how his hands trembled at his sides before he made them into fists. "Is that so?" he replied evenly. Dangerously.

Christine reached down and grasped at one of those tightly held fists, coaxing it to open enough so her fingers could entwine with his. "That's personal," she declared with as much firmness as she could muster, her heart not yet slowing from her earlier panic. "And I'd rather discuss the question of my freedom if that's all right with you."

Erik glanced down at her sharply and she forced herself not to grimace as she thought of how he might have construed those words. He had been the one to take it away from her in the beginning, to deny her pleas to return home—to go back to her dull but familiar life without him.

But now Erik's home held more warmth to her than her shabby apartment ever had, and the prospect of being forced to leave it—to pay for those scraps of happiness they had found as she was taken away to prison...

Her grip on his hand tightened.

"Christine," Erik murmured lowly beside her. "I have told you, you need never pay for my actions."

She looked up at him then, his face still uncovered from this morning, and she smiled at him sadly. "What you did was against me, Erik," she began, noting his barely perceptible flinch. "But because of that, I think I should be the one that decides your penance. And I won't have anyone punishing you for it. Not when you can repay me with all sorts of wonderful things instead."

She supposed that could sound rather materialistic—that somehow he could buy his forgiveness by plying her with enough beautiful things to smooth over the hurts he had caused. But in truth she was thinking of his kisses, his shy smiles, and she realized sheepishly, above all, the delicious food he seemed only too happy to prepare for her.

Erik seemed torn between looking at her tenderly and once again questioning her sanity, so he settled on an odd mix between the two.

Mr. Chagny shifted uncomfortably. "I appreciate your desire to protect my client, Miss Christine," he began warily. "Truly I do. It was invaluable in the jury room, I'm sure, but I must remind you..." he gave Erik a careful look before continuing. "You need to think about yourself now too. I won't pressure you, I won't force you, and I most definitely won't be telling the police where they can find you," his eyes shifted briefly to the doorway that had once again smoothed into the seemingly solid wall of the music room, "but I'm afraid this isn't going to just go away."

Christine worried at her lip, not knowing what she should do. She didn't think she could lie to the police like that even if she did consent to questioning. She had known what Erik was doing. Maybe not in the very beginning, but eventually she did. She had contributed to coaxing their confessions. She'd even gone with him quite happily to deliver their persons to Mr. Chagny when she'd had ample opportunity to run off to the police station to report not only their kidnapping but her own.

But she hadn't.

She hadn't done any of that.

Because through it all, she loved Erik and didn't want to lose him.

And even now as she leaned heavily against his arm, resigned to paying for those contributions, she realized that she might very well just have to.

"What of you, Daroga? Are you going to remain silent as well on the subject of Christine's whereabouts?"

Erik's voice was cutting, as if there was nothing he expected more than the man to leave here and immediately announce her presence to the authorities.

Yet the man sighed deeply and continued to watch Christine with that dry fascination as she entwined her arm about Erik's. He was not particularly yielding. He did not wrap his arm about her nor reveal any indications that her touch was overly welcome, but Christine did not mind, not really. While she longed for him to hold her, to assure her that things would be all right without him indulging that ridiculous notion that she turn him over to the police, her Erik was a private man. She was certain he was embarrassed about being without his mask in front of these men, whether or not they had seen him without it before. And for him to be affectionate also...

That was simply asking too much of him.

Mr. Nadir also cast an interested look to the hidden doorway, his interest obviously piqued at what lay beyond, but Erik shuffled them slightly to the left so as to inhibit his view. "Well?"

The man sighed. "Regardless of my personal perspective on your little show, I have no desire to see Christine incarcerated for your error in judgment." He ran a hand through his black hair, shaking his head ever so slightly. "I am not even certain I should like to see you incarcerated for it, not when I... I was so very wrong to have conspired with the police in the first place."

Christine was surprised by his admission for he seemed a very prideful sort of man, and she glanced upward to catch Erik's reaction.

He merely blinked placidly, his mouth set in a grim line.

Of course.

Because only she was able to astonish her Erik with her apparent bouts of absurdity.

"How very generous of you," he eventually sneered, his lip curling as he spoke. "I should have thought you would be quite happy to find any means in which to put me away for life."

The Daroga gave him a pitying look that was obviously not appreciated. "You deliberately misunderstand me then if you think that is the case."

Erik waved his hand dismissively, apparently finished with the subject as he turned his attention back to Mr. Chagny. "So what do you propose she do?"

His hand went again to his neck to fiddle with his tie, his eyes taking on a pinched appearance when he yet again met with its absence, his hands dropping back to his sides. "I cannot in good conscience be her legal counsel when her best defense is to accuse my client of wrongdoing. I'd be sacrificing one to save the other, and I... I won't do that."

Christine understood that, and it was to his credit that he would refuse her case, but that still left her feeling lost and wholly confused. Despite his odd taste in clothes, his slightly too long hair, and the way Erik hated when she spoke to him, he had defended Erik admirably when no one else had.

No one except her, that is.

And the idea of having to face detectives and the inevitable trial that followed with a stranger as her attorney, with no trust already formed between them...

The panic was rapidly returning.

"So your presence here is simply a prolonged nuisance since you have nothing further to relate," Erik surmised, his frustration seeping into his every word.

"I have friends," Mr. Chagny offered to Christine. "Good people that could defend you and ease you through the process. You don't have to go through this alone."

And then Erik's arm was about her, pulling her close as he stood tall beside her, a protective figure if ever there was one. "She was never going to do so."

Christine's heart warmed at his words. For so long she had been alone—had to carry the burdens of life without someone else to share them. But now... now she had Erik.

And she was determined to keep it that way.

"Can we... can we talk about things and get back to you? Or will that be too late?" She swallowed thickly as she considered what that meant—of the possibility that more police could storm this place and drag them both away, forever to be parted.

Or perhaps not forever.

Just however long a jail sentence would be.

She shuddered even to think of it.

Mr. Chagny gave her a soft smile, although his worry for her was still readily evident. "Of course. Discuss things and perhaps you can phone my office when you've made a decision?" This he directed toward Erik, obviously uncertain if he had such a capability, but Erik nodded presently.

Christine had never seen a phone in his underground home, but she supposed that did not mean so very much. She had not known that a coffin resided in the room beside hers until she had ventured there. It was impossible to say what else Erik had squirreled away in some of the more secret places of his dwelling.

Their meeting drawing to a close, Christine was more than willing to return to Erik's comfortable couch and discuss things properly, but she hesitated as both groups began to turn to go their separate ways. "Mr. Nadir?"

The man stopped and turned, his dark eyebrow quirked in question. "I... I should like to have your word that you won't interfere again. I know you wanted to help Erik last time, but... I'm not sure I trust your brand of help."

Erik snorted beside her and she felt his hand settle at her back, his thumb making affectionate circles against the fabric of her sweater.

Mr. Nadir sighed. "No, I don't suppose you would." He glanced toward Erik and Christine watched the silent exchange, wondering at their history that enabled them to engage in such a silent form of communication. "I hope you know what you are doing, Christine," the man replied at last. "You've chosen a difficult life, and I hope that you do not come to regret it."

Difficult?

Erik had his moments. His eccentricities abounded, their conversation was often stilted by miscommunications, but even in that they were improving.

And the comfort she found with him, the affection, the understanding—those made the rest so completely worth it.

So Christine shook her head and stepped a little closer to Erik and his tender touches. "Not so very difficult," she corrected, knowing that it was true.

The man smiled at her, though his eyes revealed that he thought her quite mistaken, quite naive for her words. "Very well, if you would prefer, I shall not meddle. You have my word. But Erik," he entreated, his voice firm. "You are prone to selfish choices, and I'd suggest you see to it that Christine is well protected."

Christine glanced upward and saw Erik's eyes narrowed. "That is perhaps one of the stupidest suggestions you have ever given me, Daroga. As if I needed any such reminder."

The man raised his hands defensively, and returned to the exit, his hands running over the smooth wall in search of the catch that would release them to the tunnels beyond.

Erik seemed perfectly content to allow him to remain there rather than offer assistance, but eventually the door swung open, the dark and foreboding tunnels beyond revealed.

Christine shivered as the draft hit her, and she regretted not bringing her coat. Erik had promised her a warm fire which would accompany her as she sang, but the intruders had made him quite forget his promise.

She was cold and ready for a warm blanket and a cheery fire as she nestled against Erik and listened to his grand plan of making this wretched business go away.

"Chagny," Erik called as the two men made to leave from the newly revealed exit, the lawyer stopping at his name.

"Yes?"

"They are going to prosecute them, will they not? They are not so dense as to let them go?"

Mr. Chagny's lips thinned and Christine remembered that it was his brother that was supposed to be on the case, and she doubted that he liked to hear him besmirched in such a way. "There was talk about letting them go once news of their kidnapping hit. But their confessions make sense with the evidence and Philippe thinks they can make the charges stick this time. They're still in the hospital for now while things get sorted out, but they'll be taken into custody when a doctor releases them."

"Hospital?" she repeated, suddenly uneasy. They had seemed fine enough to her. Erik had promised them food and water, and there were no bruises beyond where their bonds had kept them immobile against their struggles.

Had she stood by while they'd been badly hurt?

"Not to worry, Miss Christine," Mr. Chagny soothed. "They had to be checked out when we'd first found them, just to be sure, and after... well, it's a little difficult to know what to do with them. There's a case to build you see, and we typically like to wait until we know more before making any arrests."

Erik scoffed beside her, and she took his hand, this time being the one to make comforting circles with her thumb, though proper contact was impeded by the return of his leather gloves.

He waited for her to nod her thanks before disappearing back through the tunnels, the door closing firmly behind him as he went.

"Are you all right?" Erik murmured beside her, and he raised her chin with his forefinger so he could evaluate her to his satisfaction.

She smiled grimly and nodded, suddenly feeling weary. "Just take me home, Erik. We've got a lot to talk about."

Sooo... looks like Raoul and the Daroga got their trip to Erik's lair after all. Points to those who guessed it! What do you think is up next for our lovely couple? Will Erik turn himself in? Can Christine cut a deal? Guess we'll have to wait and see...

I look forward to reading your theories!