Disclaimer: See first twenty chapters.
Guardian Angel
Erik stared out across the city of Paris and thought about the girl he had left hurt and crying in the cellars of the Opera. Of course, that was a few hours ago. After she ran into her room, he had left his underground refuge hoping to find peace somewhere else. Unfortunately, he had not been able to escape the echoes of the cruel words they had exchanged. That finally drove him here, to the roof, where he sat at the base of Apollo staring out over the city.
"Mind if I join you?"
Erik leaned around the statue to see who the voice was speaking to and saw the Vicomte de Chagny holding two decanters of brandy, two empty glasses, and apparently talking to Erik. At least, he was looking at him. Raoul raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
Erik sighed, figuring his life couldn't get much worse than it already was. "Sure," he said and leaned back again.
Raoul sat down next to him on the ground. "Drink?" he offered, holding up the brandy. "Sure," Erik repeated, and accepted a glass. Raoul poured two fingers of the amber liquid in both glasses and sipped at his. Erik tossed his back, reveling in the burning path it left down his throat. If only it could burn away the memory of the hurt in Michelle's eyes. Not waiting for Raoul to offer, Erik refilled his glass.
When he had tossed back that one and was in the process of swallowing a third, Raoul spoke up. "You're probably wondering how I found you."
Erik gave up on the glass and took a sip straight from the bottle. "Not really," he said honestly.
Raoul ignored him. "I actually was looking for you."
Erik glared at him, though not with his usual enthusiasm. "Why? When I left you, you seemed too drunk to do much of anything except sleeping."
Raoul glared right back. "When you left, you were very angry. And when people are angry, they say and do stupid things." He followed Erik's example and drank deeply from his own bottle. "I figured you'd probably want to talk about it after you'd calmed down."
Erik let out an undignified snort of laughter. "Even if I did, what made you think I'd want to talk with you?"
Raoul shrugged and stared at his brandy. "Misery loves company."
Erik glanced at him. "You're miserable, too?"
Raoul nodded, and then grinned sardonically. "How about you tell me about your love life problems, and then I'll tell you about mine. That way, we'll both feel better."
"You're having love life problems?"
Raoul shook his finger at Erik. "Ah, ah, ah. You go first."
Erik wondered if the alcohol had muddled his brain, then decided that he didn't care. He leaned back with a sigh. "When you told me what she was-is- and in relation to you...I was furious. I felt she had betrayed me. It hurt, so I wanted to hurt her." He Looked down and said half to himself, "God... I made her cry."
Raoul looked up sharply. "Cry? Michelle never cries. Except when she's reading LITTLE WOMEN."
"Thank you," Erik said. "That makes me feel so much better."
Raoul either didn't hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, or he chose to ignore it. "So what did you say?"
Erik hesitated a moment before answering. "A lot of rotten things. I even accused her of only pretending to enjoy the kiss."
Raoul spit his brandy out. "What kiss?!"
"We got caught under the mistletoe."
"Oh." Raoul nodded understandingly and leaned back again.
After a few moments of silence, Erik spoke up again. "So what's your problem? Trouble in paradise already?"
It was Raoul's turn to snort with laughter. "Hardly. Christine's not even here nowadays."
"Oh, right. She went on her little trip."
"Yes." Raoul frowned into the decanter. "But I can't marry her."
This surprised Erik. "Why not?"
Raoul's shoulders slumped. "Because I'm in love with someone else."
Erik raised an eyebrow and took another drink from the bottle. "That IS a problem."
"That's not even it. I kissed her."
"The girl you're in love with?"
"Yes. And now she hates me."
"Who, if I may ask, is she?"
"Meg."
Erik choked on his brandy. "Little Meg? Meg Giry?"
"Yes."
Erik started laughing. "Lord, boy. She hated you long before that."
Raoul scowled. "You can stop laughing now."
Erik got himself under control. He WAS getting a bit tipsy. He set the bottle aside. "Well, good luck getting her back. You'll need it."
Raoul sniffed. "How can I get her back when she was never mine to begin with?"
Erik thought a moment. "Good point."
They sat in a companionable silence for a while longer, when Raoul started chuckling. "Ha, we're a sorry."
Erik glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
Raoul chuckled some more. "We were mortal enemies fighting over the same girl-who, it turns out, neither of us loves-and when we do something so foolish that our new love interests may never forgive us, we drown our sorrows together in brandy."
Erik chuckled as well. It was rather ironic. "What a depressing thought."
"What is?"
"That she may never forgive me."
Raoul shrugged. "Michelle will. Once you apologize profusely on your hands and knees. I'd suggest flowers, too. They're a nice touch."
Erik perked up a little. "Do you think so?"
Raoul shrugged again. "Sure. She's very forgiving. There are very few things she won't forgive."
"Like what?"
"Oh... rape, adultery. Kicking puppies and stepping on kittens." He grinned at Erik, and Erik couldn't help grinning back. Then Raoul cocked his head and studied him. "You love her, don't you?"
Erik's eyes widened, then closed in resignation. He leaned back before answering. "As hard as I tried not to. I couldn't help it. I didn't even want to."
"Yes you did," Raoul said, satisfied. "If you didn't want to love her, you wouldn't. It's as simple as that."
Erik stared at him, surprised, then smiled. "I suppose you're right."
Raoul nodded. "Of course I am."
"We ARE a sorry pair."
Raoul laughed; Erik chuckled softly. "Fop," Erik said without any venom.
"Monster," Raoul retaliated likewise.
"Fop."
"Killer."
"Fop."
"Moldy music maker decaying in the cellars of the Opera."
"Fop."
They grinned at each other and clinked their bottles together.
Guardian Angel
Erik stared out across the city of Paris and thought about the girl he had left hurt and crying in the cellars of the Opera. Of course, that was a few hours ago. After she ran into her room, he had left his underground refuge hoping to find peace somewhere else. Unfortunately, he had not been able to escape the echoes of the cruel words they had exchanged. That finally drove him here, to the roof, where he sat at the base of Apollo staring out over the city.
"Mind if I join you?"
Erik leaned around the statue to see who the voice was speaking to and saw the Vicomte de Chagny holding two decanters of brandy, two empty glasses, and apparently talking to Erik. At least, he was looking at him. Raoul raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
Erik sighed, figuring his life couldn't get much worse than it already was. "Sure," he said and leaned back again.
Raoul sat down next to him on the ground. "Drink?" he offered, holding up the brandy. "Sure," Erik repeated, and accepted a glass. Raoul poured two fingers of the amber liquid in both glasses and sipped at his. Erik tossed his back, reveling in the burning path it left down his throat. If only it could burn away the memory of the hurt in Michelle's eyes. Not waiting for Raoul to offer, Erik refilled his glass.
When he had tossed back that one and was in the process of swallowing a third, Raoul spoke up. "You're probably wondering how I found you."
Erik gave up on the glass and took a sip straight from the bottle. "Not really," he said honestly.
Raoul ignored him. "I actually was looking for you."
Erik glared at him, though not with his usual enthusiasm. "Why? When I left you, you seemed too drunk to do much of anything except sleeping."
Raoul glared right back. "When you left, you were very angry. And when people are angry, they say and do stupid things." He followed Erik's example and drank deeply from his own bottle. "I figured you'd probably want to talk about it after you'd calmed down."
Erik let out an undignified snort of laughter. "Even if I did, what made you think I'd want to talk with you?"
Raoul shrugged and stared at his brandy. "Misery loves company."
Erik glanced at him. "You're miserable, too?"
Raoul nodded, and then grinned sardonically. "How about you tell me about your love life problems, and then I'll tell you about mine. That way, we'll both feel better."
"You're having love life problems?"
Raoul shook his finger at Erik. "Ah, ah, ah. You go first."
Erik wondered if the alcohol had muddled his brain, then decided that he didn't care. He leaned back with a sigh. "When you told me what she was-is- and in relation to you...I was furious. I felt she had betrayed me. It hurt, so I wanted to hurt her." He Looked down and said half to himself, "God... I made her cry."
Raoul looked up sharply. "Cry? Michelle never cries. Except when she's reading LITTLE WOMEN."
"Thank you," Erik said. "That makes me feel so much better."
Raoul either didn't hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, or he chose to ignore it. "So what did you say?"
Erik hesitated a moment before answering. "A lot of rotten things. I even accused her of only pretending to enjoy the kiss."
Raoul spit his brandy out. "What kiss?!"
"We got caught under the mistletoe."
"Oh." Raoul nodded understandingly and leaned back again.
After a few moments of silence, Erik spoke up again. "So what's your problem? Trouble in paradise already?"
It was Raoul's turn to snort with laughter. "Hardly. Christine's not even here nowadays."
"Oh, right. She went on her little trip."
"Yes." Raoul frowned into the decanter. "But I can't marry her."
This surprised Erik. "Why not?"
Raoul's shoulders slumped. "Because I'm in love with someone else."
Erik raised an eyebrow and took another drink from the bottle. "That IS a problem."
"That's not even it. I kissed her."
"The girl you're in love with?"
"Yes. And now she hates me."
"Who, if I may ask, is she?"
"Meg."
Erik choked on his brandy. "Little Meg? Meg Giry?"
"Yes."
Erik started laughing. "Lord, boy. She hated you long before that."
Raoul scowled. "You can stop laughing now."
Erik got himself under control. He WAS getting a bit tipsy. He set the bottle aside. "Well, good luck getting her back. You'll need it."
Raoul sniffed. "How can I get her back when she was never mine to begin with?"
Erik thought a moment. "Good point."
They sat in a companionable silence for a while longer, when Raoul started chuckling. "Ha, we're a sorry."
Erik glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
Raoul chuckled some more. "We were mortal enemies fighting over the same girl-who, it turns out, neither of us loves-and when we do something so foolish that our new love interests may never forgive us, we drown our sorrows together in brandy."
Erik chuckled as well. It was rather ironic. "What a depressing thought."
"What is?"
"That she may never forgive me."
Raoul shrugged. "Michelle will. Once you apologize profusely on your hands and knees. I'd suggest flowers, too. They're a nice touch."
Erik perked up a little. "Do you think so?"
Raoul shrugged again. "Sure. She's very forgiving. There are very few things she won't forgive."
"Like what?"
"Oh... rape, adultery. Kicking puppies and stepping on kittens." He grinned at Erik, and Erik couldn't help grinning back. Then Raoul cocked his head and studied him. "You love her, don't you?"
Erik's eyes widened, then closed in resignation. He leaned back before answering. "As hard as I tried not to. I couldn't help it. I didn't even want to."
"Yes you did," Raoul said, satisfied. "If you didn't want to love her, you wouldn't. It's as simple as that."
Erik stared at him, surprised, then smiled. "I suppose you're right."
Raoul nodded. "Of course I am."
"We ARE a sorry pair."
Raoul laughed; Erik chuckled softly. "Fop," Erik said without any venom.
"Monster," Raoul retaliated likewise.
"Fop."
"Killer."
"Fop."
"Moldy music maker decaying in the cellars of the Opera."
"Fop."
They grinned at each other and clinked their bottles together.
