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Guardian Angel
Meg wasn't able to talk to Christine until the next day. She and the other dancers were stretching before practice; Christine was only there to watch as she would be leaving soon.
"So, when are you leaving?" Meg asked stretching her leg.
"On the twenty-second," Christine answered. "I'm going to spend Christmas with Papa."
Meg looked up. "That sounds depressing. Mama was hoping you would come to our house for Christmas."
Christine shrugged. "I'll be back by New Year's Eve. I can come over then."
Meg shrugged, too. Mama would be disappointed, but if she wanted to spend Christmas in a cemetery, Meg wouldn't try to stop her. Instead, she brought up what was really on her mind.
"Your fiancée showed up yesterday, just as you said he would."
Christine looked up, alarmed. "Raoul? Did you tell him where I am staying? Or where I'm going?"
Meg looked at her guiltily. "Well, I did let it slip that you were leaving. But I didn't tell him where. And he wants me to tell him how you are, since you won't tell him yourself."
Christine thought a moment. "I suppose that wouldn't be a problem. As long as he doesn't try to come after me."
Meg would have responded, but one of the other girls said, "Christine. Your Vicomte is coming."
Christine stood up. "I must go. Tell him I'm doing fine. Just don't tell him where I am."
Meg tried to stop her, but she was already gone. *That girl has spent too much time with the Opera Ghost. She's becoming a phantom herself.*
At that moment, Raoul walked in, right past the twittering, flirting ballerinas, and straight to Meg. "Mademoiselle Giry," he said by way of greeting. "Shall we go somewhere else to speak." It wasn't a question. He led her backstage ignoring the catcalls and crude remarks of the others. Meg felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. How dare they. They knew full well that she had no interest in the Vicomte or any other man. Of course it might have help if the man in question wasn't hurrying off like he was late for a tryst.
Once backstage, Meg yanked her arm out of his grasp. "You didn't have to embarrass me like that," she said.
Raoul looked at her, confused. "If I did embarrass you-and I don't see how I could have-I apologize."
Meg crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing. It was hard to be angry when he was so gosh darned polite. It didn't matter, though; he wasn't expecting an answer. "Now then," he said, "about Christine?"
Meg resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Didn't the man think if anything except women? Probably not. "Fine," she sighed. "Christine said I could tell you how she is as long as you don't try to find her." She waited for Raoul to nod his agreement. "Christine is doing fine." Meg turned and started back to rehearsal.
She didn't get very far. Raoul caught her arm before she had taken five steps. "Is that all?" he said incredulous. *What kind of an answer is that?*
Meg looked at him. "What else could there be? You want to know how Christine is, and she is fine. Now may I please return to practice?" She didn't wait for an answer before leaving.
Raoul waited for the anger he always seemed to feel when someone, some man, of course, was insubordinate. Michelle said it was one of his worst flaws. Oddly enough, though, he only felt intrigued. Women never talked back to him. They made life difficult in their own ways. *Except Christine,* he reminded himself. *Christine would never want to make anyone's life more complicated.* This chit, however, didn't have Christine's scruples. And even more strangely, he almost enjoyed her sassy tongue. Almost. *Who knows,* he thought. *Perhaps Mademoiselle Meg and I could become friends. Christine would like it if I didn't dislike her friends,* he added quickly in his mind. Then he wondered why he was having so much trouble thinking about what Christine would want.
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A/N : No, Raoul isn't a cheating bastard. This is all part of a master scheme. Next chapter, ...well, who knows?
Guardian Angel
Meg wasn't able to talk to Christine until the next day. She and the other dancers were stretching before practice; Christine was only there to watch as she would be leaving soon.
"So, when are you leaving?" Meg asked stretching her leg.
"On the twenty-second," Christine answered. "I'm going to spend Christmas with Papa."
Meg looked up. "That sounds depressing. Mama was hoping you would come to our house for Christmas."
Christine shrugged. "I'll be back by New Year's Eve. I can come over then."
Meg shrugged, too. Mama would be disappointed, but if she wanted to spend Christmas in a cemetery, Meg wouldn't try to stop her. Instead, she brought up what was really on her mind.
"Your fiancée showed up yesterday, just as you said he would."
Christine looked up, alarmed. "Raoul? Did you tell him where I am staying? Or where I'm going?"
Meg looked at her guiltily. "Well, I did let it slip that you were leaving. But I didn't tell him where. And he wants me to tell him how you are, since you won't tell him yourself."
Christine thought a moment. "I suppose that wouldn't be a problem. As long as he doesn't try to come after me."
Meg would have responded, but one of the other girls said, "Christine. Your Vicomte is coming."
Christine stood up. "I must go. Tell him I'm doing fine. Just don't tell him where I am."
Meg tried to stop her, but she was already gone. *That girl has spent too much time with the Opera Ghost. She's becoming a phantom herself.*
At that moment, Raoul walked in, right past the twittering, flirting ballerinas, and straight to Meg. "Mademoiselle Giry," he said by way of greeting. "Shall we go somewhere else to speak." It wasn't a question. He led her backstage ignoring the catcalls and crude remarks of the others. Meg felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. How dare they. They knew full well that she had no interest in the Vicomte or any other man. Of course it might have help if the man in question wasn't hurrying off like he was late for a tryst.
Once backstage, Meg yanked her arm out of his grasp. "You didn't have to embarrass me like that," she said.
Raoul looked at her, confused. "If I did embarrass you-and I don't see how I could have-I apologize."
Meg crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing. It was hard to be angry when he was so gosh darned polite. It didn't matter, though; he wasn't expecting an answer. "Now then," he said, "about Christine?"
Meg resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Didn't the man think if anything except women? Probably not. "Fine," she sighed. "Christine said I could tell you how she is as long as you don't try to find her." She waited for Raoul to nod his agreement. "Christine is doing fine." Meg turned and started back to rehearsal.
She didn't get very far. Raoul caught her arm before she had taken five steps. "Is that all?" he said incredulous. *What kind of an answer is that?*
Meg looked at him. "What else could there be? You want to know how Christine is, and she is fine. Now may I please return to practice?" She didn't wait for an answer before leaving.
Raoul waited for the anger he always seemed to feel when someone, some man, of course, was insubordinate. Michelle said it was one of his worst flaws. Oddly enough, though, he only felt intrigued. Women never talked back to him. They made life difficult in their own ways. *Except Christine,* he reminded himself. *Christine would never want to make anyone's life more complicated.* This chit, however, didn't have Christine's scruples. And even more strangely, he almost enjoyed her sassy tongue. Almost. *Who knows,* he thought. *Perhaps Mademoiselle Meg and I could become friends. Christine would like it if I didn't dislike her friends,* he added quickly in his mind. Then he wondered why he was having so much trouble thinking about what Christine would want.
* * * * * * * * * *
A/N : No, Raoul isn't a cheating bastard. This is all part of a master scheme. Next chapter, ...well, who knows?
