They finally met in the flesh. He had prepared for this night for many years. The threat of Raoul, a formidable flesh and blood suitor, and her constant begging to actually meet with him face to face-- to ease her own fears for her sanity and to indulge a wonderful curiosity that was a part of her-- forced this upon him. He was happy, yet unsure, she was still very frightened, he could see but sensed she was also comfortable with him, someone who had been her protector, and friend for many many years.

She felt trepidation, but was not frightened as he thought. He had been everything to her for so long. She had caught glimpses of him shadowed in box 5, protected by Madame Giry from all concerned. He was a presence that brought fear to everyone at the opera house, but she knew the difference between the gossip and the man. Raoul was a distant memory to her-- they had enjoyed one another very much as children, but she had not seen him since she was a child. He had grown very handsome and she was flattered by his attention that night, but knew her angel was watching and feared for Raoul's safety. She knew it was wrong for her to ask the Phantom this, but she needed to know that the man she waited for would give her his love. She wanted a real love. How long ago had their friendship and familial closeness turned to this? When she sang for Andre and Firmin, and looked upon the faces of all around she realized how well he had taught her, what a gift he had given her and realized then how much he cared for her. While the other girls were enjoying their many suitors there at the opera house, she accepted no one. Not because he asked, only because she hoped one day he would come to her in this way. She understood thatwhatever lay under that mask, was what kept him from her and the reason for his strange presence there but she didn't care about that. She didn't understand why he would not trust her. She had demanded this and now followed him, thrilled to the core of her being. She could hear Raoul pounding on the door-- she was concerned for him but all concerns floated away down the passageway.

The cavern was dark, as he had vanquished all candlelight when she had fallen. There was a faint glow from the lantern in the bedroom.When he went to check on her again--she seemed deeply asleep, no doubt she had not only been overwhelmed mentally but was also physically exhausted from the performance. He sat by the bed engrossed in thought.

He was wrong to bring her here he thought. He loved her so entirely he never wanted her to leave the Operahouse, but had known for the last few years a young man would come and take her away. He had wanted to give her a reason to stay. He knew he could not keep her there though, it would be her choice to stay. Stay and become the diva she was meant to be.They could continue their secret relationship in the depths of the Operahouse. And why not? He had a power here no one would dare usurp.

These new opera house mgrs were a problem though he sighed, wishing Monsieur LeFevre had not become ill and hadn't desperately sold the Operahouse to the first fools who offered him an extraordinary amount of money. The doctors had frightened him badly and fear of death had fogged his thinking. They told him to move quickly to a different climate. He and LeFevere had had a good relationship. He had known about his presence there since LeFevere had been presented with his music by Madame Giry. It had been brilliant and she had revealed Erik's secret to him as she trusted him. They protected him for years. In his haste to sell the opera house he had decided that Erik's secret should be kept, but did warn them about the 'Opera Ghost' and hoped Madame Giry would be able to sort things out once she trusted them. It had not gone well so far however and he was forced to consider leaving. He did not want to leave Christine. She kept him here. When his love turned to this deeper want he did not know, it simply did happen. He sat thinking about possibilities as she slept.

Christine awoke to the touch of a hand caressing her face. She didn't move but allowed this to happen. She wasn't sure what she wanted but she wanted this strange relationship to progress and had felt the question in his caress. All the years she had loved this man, she wanted to repay him for his love, patience and the gift he had bestowed upon her. She understood from his song earlier his need for her, and her own want. She reached and grasped his hand quickly and kissed his fingertips. He was at her side in the bed immediately. He had never known physical relations of this sort before. Indeed no one had ever touched him, but he was not uncomfortable with her. He had known of such things... he knew everything that went on within the walls of the Opera house. Much went on indeed. As a young man he had witnessed many couplings that had awakened in him an urge which he finally quelled, deciding no woman would ever want him in that way. Instead he concentrated on Christine's voice, molding it into perfection, and creating fantastic Operas that were credited to the Operahouse Mgr. himself.

Now he was at a loss, but let instinct take over. He stroked her body gently, then kissed her mouth-- it was all he needed to know. He worked his way down her exquisite form and she allowed him every inch until he reached a place that yearned for his touch. Here he stopped until she gently urged him.She felt pleasure and was amazed by how relaxed she was, but this was someone she knew for many years and in that darkness, somehow it felt right. He seemed to know exactly how to please her, but she didn't need much help as she was burning with a slow burn of passion, built up from the previous hours of the night. She climaxed, and he, trembling, asked for permission to continue. Of course. He then swiftly undressed and took her, gently at first then with a force that entailed years of waiting. She was no longer innocent. He slept beside her and as she cleaved to his body, she wondered still what lay behind the mask.