Erik was not home once Christine returned late in the afternoon. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly; she was glad that he wasn't there. It was strange to think that she'd only been away from the club for a few days- it had seemed ages ago that she'd been a willing stage dancer.

It had been surprisingly easy to slip back into dancing on the stage, writhing for the men and accepting their money. Christine had gone through the motions, letting her stage persona take over on the pole. She'd been dancing in that club for months, and she'd developed a routine that was difficult to break.

She felt dirty and guilty as she remembered the dances she'd performed that afternoon; her self-disgust was amplified as she entered Erik's loft. The rich décor and elegant appeal made her suddenly uncomfortable, she felt out of place.

I don't belong here, I've never belonged with him!

Erik knew where she had gone that morning, and he had also known what time to expect her back. He wasn't there, most likely he was revolted by her now. He knew the why of it all, that she was working as a sort of undercover for the police, but he was no doubt disgusted. Christine sighed, wondering where he might have gone.

He knew that we weren't a match, he knew it from the very beginning and he still made me come back, night after night. The fun is over, Erik has to be bored with me by now. I'm not what he wanted. I have too many issues to overcome, no family, nothing to offer him. All I am to him is window dressing, I just look good on his arm. He could be out right now, looking for my replacement…

Christine put a hand through her hair and decided that she needed a shower more than anything else. She wasted no time in stepping into the bathroom and shedding her clothes. The hot spray pounded her back, and though the urge was there, Christine swallowed her tears. What she felt that morning still held. She was furious in her helplessness, but it would be useless to cry.

No more! No more!

She washed her hair and rinsed off, washing away the stench of sweat and cigarette smoke that made her feel so filthy. She took a towel and slipped into the guestroom. Christine stared at the numerous shopping bags that still surrounded her bed, many of them she hadn't even explored yet and she had no idea what Claudette had purchased for her with Erik's money.

The woman had gone to great lengths to properly attire her as a rich man's witness, both in public and in private. She had bought all kinds of lingerie, little lacy things made to entice a man. Not just any man, but Erik alone. He was all Christine wanted- he'd given her hope that they could have a real life together, however short-lived it may have been.

Christine dug through the bags and boxes to find a pair of chocolate corduroy pants and a top of lavender lace. She dried her hair and applied just the barest of cosmetic, a touch of lipgloss and a simple swipe of brown mascara. This was Erik's home, he was bound to return soon and she wanted to look wholesome and pure for him, though that was the height of deceit.

Erik had seen her dancing with his own eyes, he knew what she had spent her afternoon doing, but Christine felt no need to remind him of the fact. He had been so hostile that night she'd come to him with a full face of garish makeup and she didn't want a repeat. They were strained enough.

She tidied up the loft, tossing away the morning's newspapers and cleaning each room of the apartment. She wiped down the kitchen counters, dusted in the dining room and vacuumed the living room. The dogs were gone, probably with Erik, and she was thankful. She wouldn't have been able to clean with them jumping at her.

Once Christine had finished with the front rooms, she went off to the guestroom and began to unpack the shopping bags, hanging the clothes up in the closet and then folding the rest, setting them into the blonde wood dresser. There was comfort in the domestic chores, and Christine drew them out, anything to stretch the hours from then until the next morning, when her next shift would begin.

There was a slight commotion at the front door, and she left her room to find Erik with the pups on their leashes. During their time over the weekend, he'd been dressed casually, but he was back in his fine tailored suit. He unleashed the pups and, catching her scent, they headed straight over to greet Christine.

She knelt to pet them, and could feel Erik's bright eyes holding steady on her. Christine looked up to see him staring down at her. "All right, Christine?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded, taking his offered hand. He helped her up, but was quick to release her. His posture was rigid, his stance slightly withdrawn. Christine swallowed. "Erik, why are you in a suit?"

He looked down at himself and ran a hand over the lapel of his jacket. "Oh, well, I must go to work tonight, at the opera. I'll also be making a stop at the university afterwards, but I shouldn't be too late in coming back home." He seemed uneasy, and hadn't looked into her eyes as he told her his plans for the night. "There's no need to wait up for me…you must be tired…"

So that was how he was playing it. He was avoiding her now, though Christine couldn't blame him. He must see her as a damaged, dirty woman. Unfit to share his bed, certainly, and unfit to share in his life. "You're leaving already?"

"Ah, yes. It's nothing groundbreaking at the university, the same for the opera. We're just going to be working on some ideas for the stage design of our next production. I was at my office for most of the day, but I only came home to take the dogs out." Erik said quickly. "I must go now, and I should be back before eleven,"

Christine nodded, feeling as if she'd been put in her place. Erik had to work, he was an important man, and also, it seemed, a very private one. They had yet to directly discuss any of the mess they'd been caught up with. He had promised to end it all, but Christine knew how men were; they all made grand vows in the heat of the moment, but what could Erik do to help her, really?

Erik took his briefcase from the coffee table and began moving towards the door. Christine moved quickly to follow after him, "Erik?"

He turned to look back at her, his face as impassive as that of his mask.

She wanted to reach out to him, touch him and feel his own gentle touch on her skin, but Christine could sense the wall that was already forming between them. She was ready to fight, and she beat her fists against it. "I'll wait up for you."

Erik said nothing. He only nodded, and left.

"Jesus, what happened to you?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "I had a rough day at work," he replied stonily as he settled into Derek's office.

"The hell you did. My eyes aren't as sharp as they once were, boy, but I'm not so blind that I can't see you've had it a little worse than just 'rough'. Now come on, Erik, who can you talk to if you can't talk to me? I don't think that your old friend from the police force would appreciate a call this late."

Erik checked his watch. "It is late. Not too late, however. She won't be expecting me back for a while. Just enough time for a chat and a drink, if you have one."

Derek shot him a look. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Erik. You'd think that at a university like this I might have a nice selection available, but I'm afraid that the only alcohol available is the rubbing kind. It's got a great kick, but the hangover might kill you."

Erik sighed. "Right. I shouldn't drink anyway, I fear I'm fast becoming an alcoholic,"

Derek leaned back in his chair. "The girl?"

"Of course the girl!" Erik shot out of his chair and began his habit of pacing. "She's so wonderful and now the police are involved and she's just so damn unhappy and I'm hard pressed to have this all over and done with."

Derek frowned. "The police? What the hell are you talking about now?"

Erik sighed, "Oh, nothing. Forget I said anything. I'm just having trouble dealing with Christine, that's all."

"But she is living with you now?" Derek prodded.

He nodded, "Yes, I moved her things in just a few days ago. I sent her off with Claudette to shop, I bought her jewels, I even had a few dogs shipped over from specialized breeders in Europe. I did these things to show her I was committed."

"You should be committed to have done all this and still not have slept with her," Derek muttered.

Erik shot him a dirty look but only sighed, "Please…there's so much…I can't make any demands of her, and she's in a bad situation because of me. She's only dancing again to protect me. I love her for it."

Derek sighed and moved to a metal cabinet on one of the lab tables in his large office. He reached in and took out a bottle of whiskey. Erik raised a brow, "I thought you said-"

"I know what I said, Erik. I was being selfish, but you need a drink more than I thought. Are you trying to tell me that your little girlfriend has gone back to stripping to somehow protect you?" Derek asked as he poured them each a drink.

Erik nodded.

"And you can't tell me the exact reason why."

Again, a nod. "I'm sorry, Derek. The police were very adamant about the need for discretion. I'm sure I've said to much, but as you said, who can I talk to if not you?"

Derek handed him a glass. "I've only been your friend for so many years. I understand that there are always going to be certain things that you won't tell me, so I'm not going to bother pressing the issue. If you really care about this girl as much as you say you do, then you'll just have to weather the storm as best you can and hope that it all works out."

Erik sighed heavily after sipping the fine whiskey. "For a scientist, you sound like quite the hopeless romantic."

"Thanks so much, but you are right. I'm hopeless, I haven't had a date in weeks. I'm destined to be alone forever, so you must go out and enjoy life for me. Now, go on home Erik, and enjoy life with your woman."

Erik nodded, "Thank you Derek, I'll be sending over a little something as my way of saying thank you."

Derek laughed, "I'll hold you to that."

Erik arrived back to his loft late that night, much later than he'd promised Christine. After visiting with Derek, he'd driven aimlessly for a long while, not knowing what he could say or what he could do to make things right between them. None of it was her fault, and Erik was no fool.

He knew that she had to have agreed to go back to dancing just as a way to protect him.

She'd told him herself how much she hated it, that exploiting herself had come as her last resort, a choice born of pure desperation. Again, Erik cursed her mother for piling so much misery onto her, and he cursed May for her underhandedness that had brought Christine back to the stage.

She was a pawn to so many people, and he knew that he was just as guilty. He wanted Christine for himself, to have her in his life and bed as his woman.

He'd never denied his selfishness; he was an ardent man and always had been.

Erik entered the loft to find the living room illuminated by the fireplace, the overhead lights were dimmed very low. Glancing into the small dining room, he saw that Christine had set out a meal for two; pasta, chicken, vegetables. A bottle of wine was on the table.

The pups ran over to him, but thankfully they had sense enough not to start barking. Erik obliged them with pats on the head, but he was not interested in them. What interested him most was the figure on the sofa. Christine was there, sitting up, her lovely face resting on her hand. Her lashes were dark fans over her face, her breathing was deep.

He felt his chest begin to ache for her. Christine had waited up for him, even when he'd returned home deliberately late. She'd cooked for him, and changed into a pretty lace dress. Erik sighed, feeling like a bastard and a disappointment to her. He approached her slowly, and kneeled before her on the floor. He took her hand and kissed her wrist.

Christine stirred slightly, her eyes barely opened, but she smiled at him in a dreamy haze. "Erik,"

He reached up to stroke her hair, "Hello, Christine,"

"I waited up for you,"

"You were sleeping,"

"No, I was just resting my eyes," she corrected him gently.

Erik nodded and took her into his arms, carrying her towards the guestroom. Somewhere in between the living room and the guestroom, Christine fell deeper into her sleep. He held her close to him, frowning slightly at how light she felt in his arms. Erik laid her down on the bed, taking extra care not to wake her.

He sat beside her on the bed for a moment, watching her, and planted a kiss on her shoulder. She appeared so innocent to him, but rather than offer him a sense of comfort, her innocence reminded him, with a pang in his chest, how utterly he had failed her.

If we are ever to make a life together, I have to end this. I'll do what I have to now, whatever it takes. For you, Christine, I'll risk it all.