Chapter One
A/N: set after "Ghosts of the Past" and "My Darkest Hour"
"What are you so nervous about, Christine?"
The young diva in question turned to the towering performer behind her. She blushed as she realized that she'd just peeked out the curtain for the fifth time in a very few minutes. "Oh… Well, my husband's mother is supposed to be in the audience tonight…" she murmured.
"Your husband!" the woman replied, painted lips stretching into an odd smile. "So you say, yet no one has ever met him."
"He's shy," Christine whispered as she turned away. What else was she to say? Yes, my husband is the Phantom of the Opera and though the law is no longer after him it would not stop an angry mob from flying down to the depths and destroying their home once again. Oh how that might work! Or not… Perhaps she best be silent.
The elder woman laughed and the smile broadened. "You take offence too easy," she said with a shrug of her strange shoulders.
Christine could find no words to respond with, so she did not. Instead she turned her attention back to the audience as best she could. She could see Raoul in his box. He came often enough to see she and Meg perform, though she would wager that he came more for Meg these days. Erik would, more than likely, be lurking in the shadows somewhere or even behind a false wall, waiting for a time to start up to his infamous box five for the best seat in the house.
"Who are you looking for?" an angelic voice murmured behind her.
Christine spun with a slight gasp and found herself in the strong arms of her husband. She sighed and fell into them, her cheek pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped up around his neck, causing her to stand on her toes to reach. He picked her up and their lips met briefly until the sounds of backstage made them part.
"I was looking for your mother," Christine answered his earlier question. "Though in all honesty I'd much rather find you."
A smile perked the visible edges of his mouth and he placed a kiss on her forehead, careful of any makeup she wore. "You'll do wonderfully tonight."
"With you watching me, I should," she answered. "And my, haven't you grown daring, hmm?"
"What do you mean?"
"Coming back here and sweeping me off my feet. Someone might notice."
"Are you ashamed?"
His hurt tone caught her off her guard. "I was only teasing, Erik," she mumbled, tracing one thin finger across his left cheek. "I would never-"
Erik caught her hand up and pressed his lips against her palm. "I understand, my dear," he assured her. "I'm just…"
Christine smiled warmly at him. "Madeleine is trying to show that she is, in fact, trying. By being here, I mean. You know that, love."
"Yes yes," the Phantom grumbled with a wave of his gloved hand. "Perhaps she might show it in another way. Outside our lives, yes?"
"Erik!" Christine found herself hissing, then hushed her voice so that she would not bring attention to them. "Please! She's trying the best she can."
"I know," her husband relented.
"Might I have a promise from you that you'll do the same. Especially when she asks us something at dinner this evening?"
Erik's mismatched eyes narrowed a fraction. "And what, prey tell, might she be asking?"
A grin lit the diva's face. "And I thought the Phantom of the Opera knew all! How easily I am fooled!" She glanced at the others that were beginning to move towards the stage. "I really should be going."
"Then you won't tell me?"
"I can't. I promised. Madeleine will tell you this evening. Go enjoy the opera, Erik." With that she stood on her toes and stretched upward to give him a kiss on the cheek before disappearing towards the stage.
Erik watched her go for a moment and with a swirl of his cape, he was gone.
The standing ovation lasted longer than usual and Christine felt herself blush as the roses and flowers were tossed to the stage, everyone clapping and cheering. She made a quick bow out and hurried off towards her dressing room.
"Christine?"
The brunette woman turned to see Meg smiling, a large bouquet of white and pink roses in her arms. Raoulhad been there!"You sang lovely tonight!"
The diva blushed. "Thank you. I'm terribly sorry, Meg, but-"
The blond smiled. "Of course Erik is waiting for you."
Christine nodded and dashed the rest of the way through the crowd. She smiled and avoided admirer as best as she could, mumbling, "thank you very much, but I'm married," more times than she could remember. Finally she made it to her door and pushed it open. The huge, wooden door swung open and she slipped inside, forcing it closed behind her. "Erik?" she called quietly a she turned. "Erik? Where are you?"
The room was dark and it sent a shiver up her spine. Servants always came in to light candles before the divas arrived in their rooms, but why not tonight? Fear began to well up within her. "Erik?" she called out again, reaching for a candle.
She heard the rustle of movement behind her and swung around, letting out a quiet squeal of panic. Before her voice could reach a scream a voice hushed her. "Shhh," her angel breathed in her ear. "It's only me."
Christine let out a small cry and fell into his open arms. "Why are the lights out?" she demanded, feeling very foolish. "You frightened me!"
Even if she could not see it, she knew he was smiling as he kissed the top of her head. A frown tugged at her lips and she pulled away. "What is this all about?" she demanded shortly. "Frightening me like that."
"You've never been afraid of the dark before," her husband murmured, pulling her closer once more.
She tugged away again. "Not until you tell me what you're up to."
The Phantom sighed heavily. "Close your eyes."
"Why? I can't see as it is."
"Indulge me, Christine. Please?"
"Very well," the young woman sighed as she did as she was asked. Behind her eyelids she sensed the candles being lit around the room, though it was far slower than she would have liked. "You know that they wired this place for electrical lighting when they rebuilt it," she pointed out.
"But it was always so much more beautiful by candlelight," he answered. "You may open your eyes now."
Two dark blue orbs slipped open and Christine gasped, one hand wandering to her lips in shock. When she had returned to work at the opera, she had asked the two managers to keep any flowers she received separate from her room. Only her husband's would be accepted there with her. Now the room was filled with red roses everywhere. They filled up the dresser, the tables, on thefloor and in the chairs, the petals falling even now on the floor and giving the entire room a romantic glow along with the candlelight illuminating the darkness. "Oh Erik," she breathed as she moved to the dresser, one slim hand reaching for the single rose that lay there. A black ribbon was tied to the stem.
"Do you like it?"
Tears pricked her eyes as she turned back to him, launching herself into his embrace. "It's beautiful!" she cried.
"Then all's forgiven for the slight scare?"
"Oh yes!" his young wife exclaimed. "They're amazing, Erik! How did you get so many? At this time of the year! It must have cost a fortune…"
The Phantom shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. "As long as you like it."
"Is there a special occasion?" Christine asked suddenly. "I haven't forgotten anything, have I?"
He laughed at the innocence of her question and ducked his head in slight embarrassment. "A sentimental thing, really."
"What?"
"Two years ago… at this time…" he stumbled over his words, looking away. Though she thought she saw a tear glisten in his eye, he was still smiling. "You left with the Vicomte."
Christine's eyes went wide. "And why on earth is that to be remembered?" she demanded in horror.
"Because," he murmured, pulling her closer and kissing her curls, "you are here now. Now is what matters, is it not?"
She smiled, noting thewords that she had often spoken to him whenever he would speak fearfully about his past and he horrible things he had done. She turned tolooked up at him and he down at her. She stood on her toes to meet him in a kiss as a sharp knock came at the door and it was opened. Both of them whirled, thankful to see only Madeleine and Marie standing there. The two women looked disheveled and a bit overwhelmed and not a little embarrassed to catch them in such a moment.
"Madame Giry said…" Marie stumbled for an explanation. "She said to come here. That you two would be here… I'm sorry."
"It's quite alright," Christine assured her quickly. "Did you both enjoy the show?"
Marie smiled. "I really have no ear for that sort of thing, but I thought it was lovely at any rate. Madeleine is the one who has a musical ear… Madeleine?"
The elder woman's dark eyes were wide as she took in the site of the candles and roses. "This is amazing," she breathed. "Did everyone in the theater bring you flowers? I'm terribly sorry that we-"
"Nonsense!" Christine answered with a bright smile. "Erik arranged this."
Madeleine turned a wide-eyed look to her son who stiffened beneath her strange glance. He cleared his throat when she said nothing. "Shouldn't we be off to dinner?"
A/N: Well there's your first chapter! I had several people asking me to write with Madeleine more, so here she is. If you read my PotC fics, you will see that I love parent-child relationships, especially if it's on the mend (I've never really figured out quite why). Anywho, wouldn't that be lovely if guys really did fill our rooms with roses? I love roses (as do most girls) and while my favorite thing is to receive a single rose and not a bundle, if a guy ever did this for me I do believe I might melt, though it would depend on the guy, certainly. Let me rephrase that: if ERIK were to do this, I'd melt! Hehe….
TS