The Usual stuff: Yeah, I don't own these characters; credit there goes to M. Leroux and in this case Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. At least I can manipulate them in my own little world. :)

In addtion: I don't own Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice or any of the characters therein. I just love that book to death and brought it up as a forshadowing thing amongst others (besides the fact that I wanted to drag it in somehow). I tried to explain parts briefly there for those of you unfamilar with the book (shame shame, you should read it). Very good story.

Author's normal blabble-fest: Ugh... lead me, save me from my servitude, I've been reading phanfics amongst cleaning today and a couple other choresand thought it was time to put up another chunk... unless I hear any objections... :)

I wanted to respond individually to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter (as you all rock and my computer is being less screwy):

Witchy-grrl: Glad to hear you enjoy it.Hopefully kiss was a catalyst for more to come, eh:) Thank you!

galabalesh: Wow... my first threat! (cowers slightly before drawing self up to full, though not really tall, height, all the while grinning). Evil is all in how you look at it. :) I don't think I made him "evil" persay but as Madame Giry said earlier, Raoul gets carried away; his heart's in the right place, he's just going about things wrong. (Plus, he doesn't do his own dirty work anyway). ;) But I did add a couple of things in and he does redeem himself...somewhat... in the end. Thank you!

midnightangel38: yes, harmless fun at Raoul's expense is a treat, glad you liked it! also glad it didn't come out as awkward, thank you!

Susie Q: (or Siseo, whichever name you're going by today). As always, a treat my friend. Will never tire of your ramblings, constructive or otherwise. (Ttttthhhhhh) Thank you!

MagickAlianne: Glad to see you enjoy it. :) I figured it was only fair that you updated yours, I should do likewise. Thank you!

A collective thanks again to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter, and all the others for that matter. It totally makes my day.

Now enough of my ramblings, read!


Upon re-entering the waking world, Christine replayed the last few moments of consciousness in her mind. She could still feel his hand over her own. She could still hear the breathy whisper flutter next to her ear. She could still remember the warmth of his lips…

Christine nearly giggled with the guilty memory but stopped short when she caught the sight of Raoul's ring on the small bedside table. This was infidelity, she was engaged.

But to whom?

Christine looked at Erik's ring on her finger, then at Raoul's ring; two beautiful gifts from two loving men but she could only accept one. Her brio slipped from her mind completely, now what was she to do? She raised a hand to her lips as if to trap the sensation; Erik's kiss had been pure, exhilarating, and Raoul… she turned her head in shame. To compare two such men in this way surely was a sin. Now I'm in even deeper, is there no end? Why me?

Growling with frustration, she closed her eyes and prayed for guidance. If she had trusted her legs to carry her, she would visit her father's grave and ask his spirit. With some effort, Christine pulled herself to a sitting position. She already knew what her father would say and the line could have easily been a missing lyric to a song from her past: know thyself and follow your heart.

Christine knew that this was no light manner she faced. She compared the two rings as she mentally compared the personalities of the two men. Raoul was normally sweet when not taken in by some new idea and she had known him since childhood to be kind and amiable. On the other hand there was Erik who was aloof yet passionate, willing to go to any lengths to make her happy, even murder, (while the prospect was flattering it was terrifying) but nothing could make Christine forget the nights he had reached out to her and brought her voice to level beyond which she had ever dreamed.

What a wretched, wretched mess. Christine longed for some form of mental escape, something to occupy her mind from the fainéant activities she'd chosen to pass the time, those being sleeping and staring at the ceiling. She glanced over at the chair by the bed and noticed a small stack of books for the first time. On top was a rose of such a deep red that it was nearly black, tied with a dark satin ribbon.

She smiled at Erik's thoughtfulness, picked up the top book, and read the title: Pride and Prejudice. Despite the English setting, she soon found herself immersed in the world of the Bennet sisters, especially that of Elizabeth and, once introduced, Christine labeled Mr. Darcy as Erik for their similarities in mysterious and aloof nature. She was surprised to discover Mr. Darcy was falling in love with Elizabeth and furthermore that she seemed unaware of it; there was an uncanny mirroring in vague terms. Then Elizabeth was introduced to Mr. Wickham, a man of genial manners, and he was soon mentally marked as Raoul. Some time later, the tedium of the hours caught up with her and she fell asleep again, despite a good story.


Madame Giry saw to Christine as often as she could but much was left to ready for the next performance. She had not had a chance to speak with her as Christine spent much of her time asleep. Mme Giry had noticed the new additions to Christine's room and made her own conclusions with a secret smile, still wishing to understand from the girl's own mouth. Her smile disappeared as she set down a small tray laden with a light meal. There were still some serious matters to discuss. Raoul was up to something. She prayed that Christine had some inkling to the plan's existence, whatever it may entail; surely it would not end well if successfully carried out.

Checking Christine's temperature, she was pleased to see that it had indeed regulated but her body would still be weak from the exertion. She saw no reason for Christine to be bedridden much longer…unless she enjoyed the excuse.

She rose quickly from her seat, acknowledging that there was still work to be done.


Raoul watched as Mme Giry left before walking into Christine's room. He glanced at the food tray, glad to see that his fiancé was provided for, and then took in the new adornments on the table. First he raised the chain holding his ring to the light and noticed that it coruscated just as brightly as when he'd first bought it, thinking of it gracing Christine's hand. He also took notice of the roses with the signature black satin ribbon and felt his inner peace caving in to jealous anger once more. Reaching for her hand, he sought to place his gift back where it belonged.

He froze. The blue sapphire glimmered innocently on her ring finger. He nearly threw her arm down in disgust but instead stalked lividly out of the room.


Erik reflected joyfully on the last few days. After he had bared his heart to Christine with the impossible hope that she would renounce her fiancé, he had visited her several times and on each instance she still wore his ring; it was a simple act on her part but his spirits soared on all the implications. He could scarce care for what Raoul was up to skulking about the opera house; he had only visited Christine on two brief occasions that he was aware of, each with strained conversation and an uncomfortable distance visible in their body language.

He smiled again as he compared that quiet unease to the genial comfort he shared with Christine. Even as he thought back to several days ago, he could sense a difference; however grudgingly he may admit it, Christine slowly started the process of extracting him from his shell that he never fully realized existed. He felt a security and confidence he never knew was possible, growing almost careless as he roamed the passageways of the opera house, lost in his enthusiasm. Only when he returned to his lair did any doubts or demands that he guard himself flitter into his mind, but he soon shoved them from his mind. Everything had changed.

In his new mood he set his mind to composing one of the first cheerful tunes he'd ever created. He glanced at a small pocket watch; Madame Giry would return to her other duties soon. Erik's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he replaced the watch and hurried back to the mirror.

He glanced through the glass and watched the pair; Mme Giry stood by Christine's side as she hobbled around the room unaided and with only minor problems. His heart swelled with pride as she made her way around the room. A couple rounds later, Mme Giry left and Erik coughed softly to make his presence known.

He relished in the glow that filled her flushed face. "Come in, Erik."

Erik acted as bid and brushed his lips on her hand, his eyes flickered briefly to the ring that still rested on her precious finger. "Good afternoon, Christine. How does my lady fare?"

"Bored, I must admit. I've grown too accustomed to these walls. I'd like to leave this room, but then again this leisure time is rather nice."

Erik gestured to the books, "I see you've been reading more of Pride and Prejudice."

"Yes, I've found myself quite taken with it. Poor Mr. Darcy, everyone seems to have misjudged him." Her original comparison resurfaced, Erik had known this injustice for much of his life.

"I'm glad to see you enjoy it. It's one of my favorites. But, now we must be sure your voice does not suffer from the tedium." With that, Erik led her in a series of simple warm-ups, those he had taught her long ago. Truly Christine's voice was the essence of music to the trained and loving ears of Erik. Some time later when she finished an easy piece, they resumed conversation.

"Since you're tired of these walls, I propose that we visit Apollo's Lyre on the roof and survey all of Paris. Then you can either return to these same four walls or I can take you to a new setting and you can see what I've been working on."

She grinned, "That would be lovely, Erik."

Shifting his weight, Erik leaned in. Christine responded and met his lips once more as they deepened the kiss, lost in each other and the promise of later.

When the couple pulled apart, Erik spoke in a breathy voice, "I'll come back."

Thinking of no worthy response, Christine stroked his hair gently. He tenderly kissed her cheek before fading behind the mirror.

Christine sighed contentedly.


Raoul nearly put his fist in his mouth to bite back his frustration. Christine's song had saturated the stagnant air of the opera house and he felt himself drawn to her room…only to discover his fiancée was far from alone. That monster was there: "Since you're tired of these walls, I propose that we visit Apollo's Lyre on the roof and survey all of Paris. Then you can either return to these same four walls or I can take you to a new setting and you can see what I've been working on." The words replayed in his head and his mouth twisted in disgust; there was little mistaking his intentions. But to make matters worse his fiancée, his Christine, was willing. He vowed he would not let her character be compromised through bewitchment.

After the words echoed again in his mind, his grim anger abruptly changed to a smirk. Perhaps I could use this to my advantage


Authoress who can't shut-up-ness: More to come! reviews are, as always, welcome.What's to come: Christine and Erik's night out and what comes of it.

:sniff: I'm actually nearly finished with this phanfic,the bittersweetness flows in...

Until next time.