Hi everybody,

thank you all for reading, for putting on alert, adding to favorites, and most of all, thank you for your lovely reviews! You always make my day with your sweet comments. Anyway, I also understand your concern about the absence of our favorite couple those past few chapters, but there is a certain need for plot development as well, and then we do have our second favorite couple to deal with too, do we not? ;-)

Just a quick guide as to how I see the ages of the characters: Christine and Meg are 17/18 approximately, Erik is mid-thirties, 36/37, and Mme. Giry about a year or so older than him, thus about 38 (thus she must have married at around 18 and had Meg at around 19/20). Nadir was already a widower with young child, thus around early to mid-thirties, when Erik (about 20 then) arrived in Persia, thus Nadir is approximately 15 years older than Erik and Mme. Giry, approaching 55. Giovanni, on the other hand, is closer to 65 than 60, since his younger daughter was about Erik's age, his surviving older daughter thus must be around 40 by now.

Ha, ha, note that Nadir thinks he is too old for Mme. Giry when the age gap between Christine and Erik is even slightly lager than the one between him and Antoinette!

Oh, yeah, and let's see how our two couples are doing, right? Just keep in mind that I do not own anything or anybody!

PS: my next update will probably be on Sunday next week instead of Saturday!

Chapter 36 - Longing

Mme. Giry nervously paced her parlor. She had neither eyes for the beautiful sunshine outside nor ears for the happily chirping birds. All she could think of was Nadir and his attempt to find Erik's documents. He had promised to see her in the morning and tell her whether or not his trip to the cellars of the Opéra Populaire had been successful, and yet, it was already ten o'clock and he had not shown up yet. What could that mean? Had he had an accident? Was he lying injured in the subterranean labyrinth that had been Erik's former home? Or worse – was he dead, killed by a collapsing wall? Or was he trying to come but could not, because he was followed? For surely, if he either had not been able to go to the Opéra Populaire or had not found the documents there, he would come anyway and explain the situation to her? He would not leave her in the dark like that?

Mme. Giry bit her lips. Yes, of course, he would eventually come. He was not that inconsiderate. He would tell her about his search for Erik's documents, but why would he hurry? He could not know about the way the thought of him in danger made her feel – and it was better that way, for if he guessed or as little as suspected, how affected she was by him, that would be beyond embarrassing. How ridiculous! A woman of her age, with all the dreams and feelings of a young girl. If Nadir knew, he would probably laugh, and maybe pity her. But that's not what she wanted. No, she had no use for his pity, she wanted... She blushed, as she remembered the way Nadir's lips looked, and how curious she had been the previous day about what it would be like to be kissed by him. The rest of him was not bad, either. As a former police officer, he had kept his body in good shape, and Mme. Giry turned an even deeper shade of purple, as she caught herself thinking that he would still look rather appealing even without his clothes on.

She glanced at the clock on the mantle of her fire place maybe for the hundredth time, sighing as she realized that it was now almost five past ten, when she finally heard the door bell. She was about to run and answer the door, when she suddenly stopped. No, she could not run, she must keep her dignity. She would not be all flustered when opening the door, that would easily give him hints about the way he made her feel, and thus embarrass her greatly. She would be just as calm and composed as ever, so as not to betray the turmoil of emotions raging within her. Also, he had made her wait, so it was only fair that he had to wait in front of the closed door for a few moments longer, too.

Slowly she walked to the door and opened it. When she saw Nadir Khan standing there, obviously uninjured and none the worse for his adventure the previous night, she was barely able to suppress a wide grin. What a relief to know he was fine!

"Good morning, Monsieur Khan," she managed to say, her voice almost even. "Please step inside. Would you like some tea or coffee?"

Nadir quickly followed her inside. He was elated. Had there been some relief swinging in that wonderful woman's voice? Had she actually been worried about him? At least a tiny little bit? In that case, maybe... and he caught himself at imagining her with her luscious hair released from that tight braid, flowing freely, and her all supple and willing in his arms. Then he shook his head. Of course she had been worried. After all, they were friends, and Erik's happiness sort of depended on the success of his endeavor. But still... he could not help wondering what it would be like to bring her more tender side to the fore. She always appeared so strict and formal, but he knew that was not all Antoinette Giry was. She had turned herself into this cold, stiff person, in order to be prevail in the world of business, to be respected as a working woman and professional, out of necessity, in order to be able to stand her ground and make a living for herself and her daughter. But he knew that there was a different person underneath that facade of calm composure, a warm and caring woman. The young girl who had helped a disfigured boy escape and had kept him safe from the authorities out of compassion, was still inside that rigid woman, as was the young widow, who had taken the orphan Christine under her wings and taken her on as her foster daughter. Oh, how Nadir longed to bring that side of her out!

But when faced with the woman of his dreams, he could not speak about all these thoughts and desires, for fear of making a fool out of himself in front of her. She would probably think of him as an old lecher, if she guessed his feelings, for he was in his mid fifties, and she was not even forty yet. Also, he was a Persian, and he knew about the wide-spread prejudice that orientals treated women not as persons with equal rights, but more like a commodity. How could she know that he had never felt that way about women, that he had truly loved his wife and treated her with the utmost respect?

Nadir composed himself. No, there was no point in dreaming about things that never could be, the highly desirable Antoinette Giry was off limits, and he had to accept that and concentrate on the situation at hand. He therefore calmly pulled a wallet out of his breast pocket and handed it to Mme. Giry. "I found these items in Erik's home last night," he stated.

Mme. Giry quickly grabbed the wallet, opened it and pulled out the two documents. "Thank God," she whispered, as she recognized Erik's birth certificate and passport. "Erik will be so relieved!"

Nadir grinned. "There is more," he told her. "Look into the other compartment!"

Mme. Giry did and gasped as she saw the huge bundle of banknotes. "All that money?" she asked. "You found that in Erik's home as well?"

Nadir nodded. "Yes, it was with the documents. It seems that despite his expensive taste in clothing and his need for books and gifts for a certain young soprano, Erik could make some savings. But then, that is no surprise with a salary of twenty thousand francs a month," he added.

A faint smile graced Mme. Giry's lips, which Nadir found most endearing. "You will bring all that to Erik?" she asked. "So that he and Christine can get married as soon as possible?" She had a feeling as if time might be of the essence, considering the close living quarters of the young couple which would lead to temptation. She wanted Christine to be pure on her wedding night.

"I will most definitely do that," Nadir confirmed. "And I will give you notice as soon as Darius and I are settled in Brussels. I am sure Erik will start looking for a suitable little community where he and Christine can dare getting married now that he has his papers, and once a date has been set, I will let you know, so that you and your daughter can follow us in time."

"Thank you," Mme. Giry said more warmly than she had intended. "But what about the Vicomte? What am I to tell him if he asks about you?"

Nadir thought about it for a while. "Tell him, that I got a note from an acquaintance of mine, who served the Shah of Persia with me years ago, that this gentleman is now living in Brussels, and that he has told me that there are good business opportunities there, a huge demand for import of oriental spices or something like that, and that I went to meet this friend of mine to discuss business opportunities with him. That's really all he needs to know."

"Import of spices?" Mme. Giry giggled. "Could you really see yourself doing that?"

Nadir shrugged. "I might as well. Retirement can be a bit boring. As long as Erik needed me to run errands for him that he could not do himself because of his mask, I was quite busy, but it seems that boy won't need me any longer, so I will have to find myself something else to do. Of course I have my pension and don't really need to work, but a nice little shop might be fine. It would not have to be too profitable, just a bit of a distraction and some side money." Yes, Nadir thought. A few bucks more here and there would not be bad, if only he had a wife and a stepdaughter to spoil with that extra money...

He quickly took his leave, before he lost his composure and his secret thoughts and desires became obvious to his adored Antoinette, and headed home, where Darius had already prepared their bags. Two hours later, the two men left for the train station to board the next train to Brussels.

Xxxx

Erik and Christine had just had breakfast together. They were both a bit on edge. In a way, Erik's proposal had cleared the fronts between them, by making it clear that they were both in love with each other and that they wanted nothing more than to get married. That knowledge had made them both happy and had given them a feeling of security and peace. But on the other hand, that very love they felt for each other was making them wish for more than just a chaste kiss or hug, and even though it had only been a few days, both of them were now wishing for a quick marriage. To be so close together, without actually being able to give in to their passion, was torture. And yet, even though their desire for each other grew stronger every day, they valiantly fought it. Erik felt that he would treat Christine like a whore, if he took her before she was legally his wife, and Christine thought that she would commit a grave sin, if she gave herself to Erik, before they were married.

Their relationship was therefore a bit forced. They tried to avoid contact as much as possible, in order to avoid temptation, and they mainly used their eyes to assure each other of their unchanged feelings. Despite all precautions, there were instances, when their hands touched, or when they allowed themselves a quick hug, that Erik's body betrayed himself, and despite his attempts to somehow hide his condition, Christine had noticed once or twice a certain bulge in his trousers, and the thought of what that might mean, had made her blush. She always pretended not to have noticed anything, since she realized it embarrassed him greatly, but she had to admit to herself that it was getting increasingly more difficult to avert her eyes...

Breakfast had been a bit strained again. While Christine had made coffee, Erik had taken a quick bath, and he had emerged from the bathroom, wrapped into his robe. The sight of him in just his robe had made Christine's heart beat faster, as she had spotted a bit of his muscular chest and when he walked, she also got a good view of his legs. The thought that he was not wearing anything underneath had made her blush and she quickly retreated to the kitchen to give him the privacy to get dressed.

Erik had been both pleased and concerned by her reaction. Pleased, because he had noticed her interest in his body, her curiosity about what lay underneath his robe, that had shown him beyond any doubt that she was as eager to explore a more physical side of their relationship as he was. Concerned, because until now she had been the more composed one, that had made it easy for him to keep his word and not betray her trust. But when she was now beginning to feel the same urges and needs as he did, how much longer would they be able to keep their hands off each other? And marriage was still several weeks away...

As a result of this bathrobe incident, both had felt a bit awkward during breakfast. How much easier things would have been, if neither of them had felt such scruples and they could have just followed their instincts!

"I might have to leave you alone over the weekend," Erik finally mumbled, intently watching the half croissant still on his plate. "I … I thought I could start looking for a village... you know... for our wedding... "

Christine smiled at him. How she loved the idea of them getting married, preferably the sooner the better. "Can you do that already?" she asked. "Will you not need your documents first, before you can approach any priest or official about us getting married?"

Erik shrugged. "I won't have to tell anybody I want to get married," he explained. "At least not yet. But it can't hurt to have a look around, trying to find a place. That way, once I have the documents, all we need to do is go there straight away and have the wedding planned. That way we can save time..."

He sighed. "And the less I am around you, the less chance there is that we will give in to temptation," he thought. But he did not voice that thought for fear of alarming Christine.

A knock on their front door interrupted their conversation. Christine went to see who it was while Erik quickly put on his mask. A rather disgruntled Mme. De Verkope greeted Christine.

"Mademoiselle, there is another foreigner down there, who wants to speak to Monsieur," the landlady huffed. "But he is nothing like Monsieur Giovanni, who despite his poor French, is a true gentleman. This new person does speak French rather well, but he is... well... he does not seem to be good Christian folk, if you get my meaning. A heathen, I tell you, from some ungodly corner of the earth, India maybe, or Arabia, he dresses like a civilized person, but who knows!" She shivered at the thought of the oriental poisons and daggers that this guest might be hiding.

Erik who had overheard Mme. De Verkope's words, quickly joined Christine. "A visitor, you say?" he asked the landlady. "An oriental looking gentleman? Olive skin, dark eyes, maybe in his mid-fifties?"

Mme. De Verkope nodded. "You know such a person, Monsieur?" she asked surprised.

"In fact, I do," Erik informed her. "I met him on my travels when I was younger. He even once saved my life. Please, Madame, be so good and show the gentleman up."

Mme. De Verkope's jaw dropped and she had to make an effort to close her mouth again. For the first time she wondered what kind of strange people she had taken into her house, and if there would be more unusual guests showing up at her doorstep asking for the Chenets in the near future.

"Yes, Monsieur, of course, Monsieur," she stammered, then quickly made her way down the stairs. Erik and Christine could overhear her talk to someone.

"Please, Monsieur, if you would follow me? Monsieur Chenet is awaiting you..." Mme. De Verkope said. Then a deeper voice grumbled, "thank you, I think I can find my way on my own..."

A few moments later, Nadir appeared at the top of the stairs. When he spotted Erik, he opened his arms wide and grinned. "It is good to see you again, doostam," he said in Farsi, pulling Erik into a hug. "And don't you dare complain about a hug. You need to get used to normal human interaction, now that you have decided to join society and live a normal life like everybody else, and even become a husband..."

Nadir released Erik and turned to Christine. "My apologies, Mademoiselle," he said in perfect French. "I do not think, we have met, though we have corresponded, have we not? My name is Nadir Khan, Mademoiselle, and you can be no other than the courageous little lady who has taken it upon her to turn this cantankerous, self-pitying fool into a valued member of society, am I correct?"

Christine nodded. "Oh, Monsieur Khan, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person," she beamed. "Yes, I am..." She looked around cautiously, to make sure that Mme. De Verkope was not within hearing range. Then she continued, "I am Christine Daaé, and Erik is no fool, nor is he cantankerous, he is … " She lovingly gazed at her fiancé. "He is the Angel my father sent me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "the answer to all my prayers." She locked eyes with Erik, and they both were lost to the world for a few moments, just gazing into each other's eyes.

Nadir felt deeply touched at the couple's obvious love, but also a bit embarrassed at witnessing their private moment. He therefore cleared his throat, to get their attention, before asking, "May I come in, Erik? I think I have some news that might interest you..."

Erik and Christine both blushed, as they had completely forgotten about their guest. They quickly turned to him. "Of course, Monsieur Khan," Christine said, "please come in. I take it you have news from home? Have you seen Meg recently, and Madame?"

Nadir grinned. "Yes, I have seen both, and I bring you their greetings, if all goes well, they will be following me within a few weeks."

Erik frowned. "Will that be wise?" he asked. "Isn't the Vicomte still spying on them, hoping to find out where Christine has gone?"

Nadir grinned. "He probably is," he admitted. "In fact, I saw him, too, the other day. He is delusional, I tell you, he still thinks, Mademoiselle Christine is going to marry him. But I have a feeling, he won't be too surprised to learn that Mme. Giry and Mademoiselle Meg will be following me," he added with a sly smile. "For he will think that the good lady is moving here, to marry me."