A/N:

Christinedaee29, ghostwritten2 and lawshark, thank you so much for your lovely comments! They're very much appreciated.

Theodora clapped her hands together. "Ladies and gents, if I could have your attention for a couple seconds?" she called out.

Unfortunately it didn't seem as though anyone was listening. Alfie was at the front of the stage messing about with the phone he'd installed in some kind of rig to keep it steady, and consequently almost overbalancing into the forest of plexi-glass that now made up the orchestra pit; nearly everyone else, those members of the cast and crew currently scattered about the stalls in anticipation of what was about to take place on stage, seemed to be far more interested in chatting amongst themselves. Even Meg, who had been cheerleader for the sing-off and was supposed to be compèring, had her head down over her phone and Madame Giry's brows were furrowed in disapproval. She nudged her daughter sharply with an elbow and Meg looked up, startled, causing Christine to hide a grin behind her hand.

Across the boards from her Teddy frowned, foot tapping impatiently. Before Christine could suggest an alternative way of getting everyone's attention, the other soprano had picked up one of the microphones and walked across to the nearest amplifier which resided in the lower box stage right. Without preamble, Teddy held the mic against the speaker, generating a quite horrendously ear-splitting amount of feedback that had most of the audience shouting in protest and covering their ears. Christine winced and Alfie looked relieved that he was wearing headphones, as did Mike, who crouched at his side as co-opted sound recorder.

"Thank you," Teddy said, the merest hint of a satisfied smile dancing on her lips. "And thank you all also for coming. As you know, we're going to inaugurate our new YouTube channel with a little competition between me and Christine: a 'battle of the sopranos', if you like."

"Are you going to get on with it?" a voice asked from the semi-darkness at the back of the auditorium. "Some of us are on our lunch break."

"If you've got something more important to be getting on with, Colin, feel free; I'm sure we won't miss you," Madame replied, craning round to find the voice's owner: it belonged to one of the stage hands, who promptly ducked down in his seat before she could spot him.

"We're waiting on Reyer," Alfie explained, pointing to the grand piano that had been positioned downstage left. "You didn't think one of us was going to play that thing, did you? We want to get the public's support, not torture them."

Teddy checked her watch. "He should have been here by now; I told him we were going to start at half past one."

"I'm sure he hasn't forgotten," Christine assured her, just as there were footsteps in the wings and the next moment the tall, black-clad figure of her husband emerged from behind the curtain, a pile of sheet music under one arm and a harassed expression on what little of his face she could see, obscured as it was by both Covid mask and prosthetic. Though it might not have been visible to anyone else, she knew even from her position six feet away that his hands were shaking; half an hour earlier they'd been in his office as she did her best to steady his nerves after he emphatically declared he'd made a mistake and there was no way he could go through with it. She was called away before she had a chance to convince him otherwise and it was something of a surprise even to her that he was here; he'd been so agitated she'd half expected him to do a runner and send Gene in his place.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, smoothing his hair and taking a seat at the piano, deliberately avoiding the collective gaze of the company, most of whom were murmuring in interest at his sudden appearance. "I was halfway out the door when the phone rang. Have I kept you waiting long?"

"No, not long," Theodora replied, turning to Christine and raising her eyebrows so high they almost met her hairline. 'How the hell did you do that?' she mouthed. Christine just shrugged.

"Good, good." Erik shuffled his music on the stand, a tactic more to reassure himself than because he actually needed it. "How is this going to work, then?"

"Meg will introduce us and explain what's happening," Christine told him before Teddy could open her mouth. "Then we'll each sing the same piece, and viewers will be asked to vote for the one they think is the best. The poll will be on Facebook and linked in the comments."

"That's it?" He looked sceptical.

"That's it. Then we choose another song and do it again next week."

"We're having five heats," Teddy added. "Winners takes all."

Erik's eyebrow arched. "And what do they take, exactly?"

She exchanged a glance with Christine. "We haven't quite figured it out yet."

"Very well." The music shuffled again, and this time Christine was sure those standing closest would be able to see he was nervous; if the shaky hands weren't enough, the anxious bobbing up and down of his left knee would be a dead giveaway. "What is it to be today?"

"As Hannibal's coming up in a few months we decided to start with Think of Me," Christine said. She had deliberately suggested it because he could probably play it in his sleep, and for the memories it held for them both, memories that hopefully might be able to calm him a little. "Teddy's going to go first this time."

"We're ready whenever you are, ladies," Alfie announced, grinning when Erik just shot him a look. "And maestro, obviously."

"Meg, get up here," Theodora called. "You're on."

Fortunately, as the cast had been taking regular Covid tests since they became available and the older members had almost all received one vaccination by now, it had been decided that they could manage this without masks. Christine was grateful, as she had wondered briefly a few days before how they were going to get round that particular problem; singing through three layers of fabric was not something she was very keen to try. All the auditorium doors were open as they were for every rehearsal, and the microphones for herself, Meg and Teddy had been positioned at carefully-measured intervals to ensure maximum distancing; Christine's was the closest to the piano and her husband. Mike, Alfie and the audience were still masked up, but Meg took hers off as she came up the steps onto the stage and when she glanced across at him Christine saw Erik reluctantly remove his own; the piano had been carefully angled so that only his good side would be towards the camera.

There were a few moments of general faffing around before Alfie cued Meg in and she snatched her mic from its stand, directing such a dazzling smile towards him that Christine thought the online audience would need sunglasses. "Good afternoon everyone, and welcome to the Vanburgh Theatre at lunchtime on a sunny Wednesday. This is the Battle of the Divas!"

"She makes it sound like a boxing match," Erik muttered, just loud enough for Christine to hear.

"Oh, you ain't heard nothing yet," she told him, having already been treated to Meg's opening spiel, and he looked pained.

"...in the red corner," Meg was announcing, gesturing to Teddy, who threw a couple of air punches that contrasted ridiculously with the tight wiggle dress and heels she was wearing, "If you're a regular here the chances are you're familiar with her phenomenal pair of lungs; Violetta, Norma, Manon... she's sung them all. She's performed for at least one president, though she won't say of which country, or in what capacity, and even been a pretty kick-ass Fairy Godmother in the Christmas panto... here she is, dramatic coloratura soprano extraordinaire, the USA's own Theodora Merriman!"

A somewhat ragged cheer went up from the side of the stalls occupied by those opting to support Teddy, followed by applause that from necessity sounded rather thin. Realising this, Mike glanced over and shook his head, pointing to the recorder he was using; Christine took that to mean 'we'll fix it in post-production'.

"And in the blue corner," Meg continued, turning to her; she tried not to jump and settled for a decorous wave towards the camera, "She's the lyric coloratura soprano who's been celebrated for the roles of Susanna, Mimi, Gilda... the list goes on. A recording star in her own right, she's been the best short-notice stand-in Wicked Queen we've ever had and if she wasn't just too nice she'd love to play Eva Peron, mainly so she could dance the tango with our very hunky tenor Mike Dobson. Coming to us via Stockholm and Shepherd's Bush for your delectation today is the fabulous Chrrrrristine Daae!"

Another cheer with some added foot stomping arose from the section of the crew that had designated themselves 'Team Christine'. Teddy shot them a death glare that was only half serious; to ensure a non-partisan audience they'd drawn lots to choose who would be backing which side. There seemed to have been an unspoken agreement between them to each try and outdo the other.

"Today's heat will be a sing-off requiring each competitor to give us their best interpretation of Elissa's act three aria from Hannibal. Tickling the ivories to accompany these lovely ladies we have a man whose wife has assured me can do practically anything, and I believe her," Meg said, giving Christine an unrepentant wink when her friend pretended to look outraged at the insinuation. She turned, raising her arm towards the piano in an expansive sweep. "He's the Vanburgh's resident director and composer, as well as an incredible singer and top vocal coach; in fact, he's an all round musical marvel, but then I have to say that because he's my boss and he'll probably sack me if I don't give him a good intro... allow me to introduce Mr Erik Claudin!"

This time Christine and Teddy enthusiastically joined in with the applause. Erik was quite visibly startled; the tips of his ears turned pink and his hands descended abruptly on the keys, accidentally playing a minor fifth chord before he recovered his dignity and managed to incline his head in acknowledgement of Meg's over-the-top introduction. He summoned up a faint smile and kept his face turned just enough to hide the prosthetic as Alfie circled with the camera.

Meg waited for him to return to her before she moved on, giving a little potted history of the aria they were about to perform and including a quite hefty plug for the forthcoming revival of Hannibal. Though aware of one of the crew hovering with another phone to capture reaction shots Christine took the opportunity to sit down on the stage by the piano as Theodora prepared herself; they had both gone through a full warm-up a few minutes earlier. She glanced at Erik and offered him an encouraging smile as he began the opening bars, an evocative introduction that immediately took her back to the moment she had been plucked out of the chorus to cover the role of Elissa when Carlotta, always the drama queen, disagreed with the direction she was being given and stormed out, apparently never to return. Meg, never one to miss an opportunity, had immediately offered Christine as a replacement, much to the Italian diva's horror when she found out. Of course, the knowledge prompted Carlotta to cut her tantrum short and Christine's stint in the role on that occasion ended up being rather briefer than she would have liked, but the piece would always have a very special important place in her heart, no matter how many times she had sung it since. Not least because her triumphant debut had confirmed Erik's faith in her, a faith that she had at times been convinced was somewhat misguided when she struggled to live up to his impossibly high expectations.

Teddy's take on Think of Me was naturally somewhat different to her own; the other soprano's darker tone lent itself to a rather more melancholy interpretation, suggesting that Elissa's relationship with Hannibal had come to an end and she was looking back, unlikely to see her lover again. Conversely, possibly influenced by the sheer joy she'd felt in her first leading role, Christine had always seen the song as a message of hope, that though the couple were separated there was still a chance they would meet once more, as long as they held onto the memory of the love they had shared. Her colleague's cadenza was as always impressive, Theodora sliding up and down the notes with ease, adding a few trills here and there until she reached an effortless top note which she held for so long that Meg started to look slightly worried, as though she was wondering whether Teddy was ever going to take a breath. When she ended with a flourish everyone was clapping, including her rival; she gave a jaunty bow, face lit with a beaming grin.

And then it was Christine's turn. Having been waiting, with Erik's approval she took a moment to run through a couple of scales. For a moment she wished she'd thought to filch one of the Elissa scarves from the costume department before her two bar intro came to an end and almost automatically she was carried away by the music, her voice instinctively floating over words she knew so well. It was hard not to keep glancing over at her husband so she fixed it on the middle distance instead, the virtually empty stage and sparsely-populated auditorium fading away as her hands beginning to move almost without her realising it, muscle memory retaining the routine Madame Giry had drummed into her years ago. She kept her own cadenza light, jumping back and forth between staccato and glissando before swooping up to a pure, sustained Bb.

As her final note died away there was silence for a long moment before the applause erupted, drawing her back to the present. She glanced round to see that Madame had been joined in the front row by Eugene Reyer and they were both on their feet; though she had played the part many times in the intervening years, with Erik still hesitant to make the fact that he had been tutoring her public it had fallen to them to guide her through her first performances and it seemed the memory, of all that time they put in taking her through blocking and phrasing, had affected them nearly as much as it had Christine herself. Erik was clapping too, trying not to look as though he favoured one contestant over the other and doing a fairly good job of it, though she didn't miss the proud little upturn at the uncovered corner of his mouth. She met Teddy's eyes and her friend just smiled, a smile Christine shared, one that was a mixture of euphoria and relief that only a fellow performer could understand.

Reaching out a hand, she invited the audience to show their appreciation for her colleague; automatically Theodora did the same and then they both at a nodded agreement turned towards Erik, who after a beat gave a little seated bow, gesturing with an elegant hand back to his two leading ladies. Meg, evidently deciding this little love-in had gone on quite long enough, stepped in to sum up, directing the viewers towards the Facebook poll and giving them an idea what to expect next week. After what seemed like an interminably long time but was probably only a couple of minutes, Alfie declared a wrap and everyone breathed a grateful sigh. There was a rustling in the stalls as the crew began to shuffle out to return to work.

"Thank God that's over," Teddy exclaimed, taking a couple of exaggeratedly deep breaths as she looped her mask back over her ears. "I really need to work on my voice; I've obviously been slacking off during lockdown."

"It was your idea," Christine reminded her, laughing. "And there's nothing wrong with your voice."

"Honey, you'd say that even if I was croaking my way through," the other soprano declared, but her eyes were dancing. "It must be over a year since I've sung anything like that; my lungs feel like I've just run the marathon."

"I suppose that's what happens when you can only access your voice coach via Zoom."

Theodora raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess we're not all lucky enough to be married to our tutors," she said, glancing at Erik, who was gathering up the sheet music he hadn't actually needed. Alfie was looking pleased, and stopped near the piano to say a few words that were rather muffled and they was too far away to make out; Erik replied equally quietly but his tone sounded a little terse as he replaced his own surgical mask, a faint flush touching the visible side of his face. "He did great for his first public performance, don't you think?"

Christine smiled as her husband met her gaze; the look of relief in his eyes was enormous. "He did, he really did. For a moment I thought he was going to bolt," she confessed, watching him shut the piano's fall board and get to his feet. "I could hear his knees knocking when he walked on stage."

"Oh yea of little faith," Teddy scolded. "I should be careful, though," she added with a sly grin, "He might get a taste for the adulation and start to steal your thunder."

"Teddy, you are ridiculous." Christine shook her head at her friend's teasing. "He'd probably be like Gene and faint if a spotlight was trained on him."

"I don't know." The little diva pursed her lips, regarding Erik as he spoke to Reyer and Madame; whatever they were discussing, the Vanburgh's conductor was being particularly voluble, one hand waving expansively in the air. Erik seemed to have relaxed a little, leaning on the polished black lid of the baby grand and nodding every so often. "Stranger things have happened."

"That was fantastic!" Meg announced before any more could be said upon the subject, hurrying across the stage towards them with Alfie not far behind. "I think we'll get a great response. You looked as though you were miles away, Chris; what on earth were you thinking about?"

"Never ask artists about their inspiration," Teddy told her with a wink. "It ruins the magic."

"I was just... remembering a few things," Christine admitted. "About the first time we gave Hannibal."

"Dreaming of days gone by, eh, Chris?" Alfie asked with a grin that pulled at the edges of his mask.

"Had a haircut, have you, Alf?" she countered lightly, raising her eyebrows at the grade two that had left only a short red stubble over his scalp. He just shot her a mock glare, eyes alight with amusement.

"How was it looking through the lens?" Meg asked as Erik, evidently having regained his normal poise, finally joined them.

Alfie glanced at his boss. "Pretty good. I'll check it all over the weekend; I'm sure once I've worked some digital wizardry on it we'll have something really special."

"I'm glad to hear it," Erik replied, arching a brow. "I'd hate to think we'd all been through this for nothing."

"Misery," Meg retorted.

"Haven't you got dance rehearsals, Marguerite?" he enquired, shooting a pointed look towards her mother, who was standing by the footlights rounding up those of the ballerinas who had been in the audience.

She rolled her eyes. "Rehearsals, always rehearsals..."

Christine laughed. "Well, they are rather important, Meg."

Her friend stuck out her tongue, but went anyway. Erik moved to centre stage and clapped his hands sharply, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "We'll recommence in ten minutes, everybody," he called, voice carrying easily across the auditorium. "I expect those of you involved to be ready for a vocal run-through of the end of part one."

There was the usual grumbling and a couple of cheekily rude comments which earned the perpetrators a patented Claudin freezing glare that most of the company could never work out was genuine or not, but the required members of the cast left in the stalls began to move. Madame watched them like a hawk before crossing the stage to attend to her own troupe, passing Erik and Christine on the way.

"You did well," she told them, eyes crinkling at the corners in a rare smile. "You should be pleased."