Lucrecia LeVrai: Noooooo, not fluff! I'm trying to write this story with a good plot, not like a "cheap romance". :cries: I'm still not quite sure if that was a good or a bad review….

Haley Macrae: Yay, I like those Pocky things:)

Chapter 16

As soon as he heard Christine's bath water running in the adjoining bathroom, Erik slipped silently from the room, straightening his morning coat as he did so. The long hallway was empty, but he could hear faint voices floating up the stairway from the ground floor. He had no intention of taking the route by which all would see him – instead he strode quietly down the wide corridor to Nadir's study, trying the door handle without bothering to knock. It did not open, as he had suspected, but he easily picked the lock with a stray hairpin left in their room.

The door swung open and, although he had known by the locked door that Nadir was elsewhere, he was still relieved to find the office empty. He looked over the seemingly endless bookshelves, the wooden chest, the drawers in the desk… minutes later he had discovered a discreet cupboard mounted on the wall by the door, containing several bottles of liquor, a tin of cigars, and a small box containing that which he sought. One release deserved another…

X X X

Christine luxuriated in the bath, the hot water feeling deliciously good as it relaxed her muscles. The steam in the small bathroom curled her hair into even tighter tendrils round her face and she closed her eyes, breathing in the warm air.

Erik had dressed quickly and neatly in another set of clothes brought with them from Paris.

"There are things I must speak to the owner about," he had said with a kiss to her brow. She didn't know what could be so urgent as to call him away after such… such… she couldn't even finish the sentence in her mind!

She blushed and held back a foolish smile, curling her toes and sinking up to her nose in the hot water. The ballet girls' tales of lovers and secret trysts had not prepared her for… well! She smiled secretly to herself,

It had been hesitant and awkward at first, but desire and instinct had taken over to create something so intimate and passionate that… she could not think of a word to describe it! She laughed underwater, the air bubbling to the surface.

X X X

When Christine had finished, she put on a clean chemise (really, it was surprising how much Erik had fit into the traveling bags) and pulled the cord by the bed to call for a maid to help here dress.

Back at the Opera, all the girls helped each other, and it was odd having a stranger help her dress. As if she was some fine noblewoman with a lady's maid! The clothes Erik had chosen were quite fine, she mused as she grasped the edge of the vanity table as the maid laced up her corset. Finer than anything she'd worn before. But of course, it would only make sense for him to have expensive tastes. One didn't spend 20,000 francs on decorating a cave with candles.

In the traveling bag was yet another dress, a little wrinkled but no worse for wear. The mere sight of it was complicated – a never-ending line of tiny hooks marching down the back, a small bustle that Christine was unaccustomed to wearing, a full elaborate petticoat….

She must think me ridiculous for not knowing how to wear my own clothes, Christine thought as the maid helped her wrangled herself into it. When she was fully dressed she thanked the maid, and the young woman merely smiled, murmured that lunch was in two hours, and left, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

The fabric was gorgeous, she thought as she eyed herself in the mirror and ran her hands of the bodice of the dress. The material was a deep, deep red, overlaid with a pale black swirling design, so faint you could only see it when it caught the light at the right angle.

She felt almost overdone, comparing the beautiful dress in her mind's eye to the other simple dresses she usually wore. It wasn't as if there had been any need for a chorus girl to own fine gowns, except for wearing stage costumes and going to the Opera's balls and parties. But this was what the ladies in Paris were wearing, most of the women at the inn, too. She tied up her hair in a neat chignon at the nape of her neck and smiled at her reflection.

X X X

Erik was just opening the little box when the study door clicked open. His head snapped up to see Nadir, standing in the doorway with wide, surprised eyes.

The pair stared at each other, while Nadir's startled expression slowly faded and was replaced by a mixture of regret and disappointment.

"I thought you had stopped that long ago, Erik," he said slowly. "I guess I was wrong."

Erik slammed the cupboard door shut. "Who are you to judge?" he spat defensively. "You're the one with morphine in your study."

"Don't try to blame me, Erik. My taste for it has always been a temporary pleasure."

"As if mine isn't?"

"We both know its not."

Nadir's eyes traveled down to Erik's exposed arm, and Erik pulled his sleeve down neatly.

"Its really none of your business, Nadir."

"It is when you've broken into my office."

They eyed each other for a long moment.

"Does… Christine know about this?"

"No."

"Does she know about any of it?"

"No," Erik replied curtly. "And I know you won't be telling her…" this last was said with a pointed stare.

Nadir passed his hand across his eyes and sighed. "No, Erik. That I would not do." He paused. "That's up to you."

There was a long silence as they stared at each other, memories passing unspoken between them. Abruptly, a soft knock on the door broke through the reminiscent reverie.

Erik's eyes flicked to the door, then back to Nadir, and he turned away, crossing the room in several long strides to sink gracefully into an armchair with his back to the door.

Nadir watched him for a moment before turning and opening the door to see his housekeeper standing before him.

"There are men to see you, sir," the woman said, wringing her plump hands nervously.

"I'll be down in a moment," Nadir replied with a sigh. "Please make them comfortable in the meantime."

"But, sir, they're police! I knew they must be mistaken, and I tried to send them away but they were very insistent, wouldn't explain a thing, they're searching the building as we speak!"

Nadir frowned for a moment before realization dawned – he turned just as Erik shot from the chair, the look on his face almost frightening as he strode past Nadir and the startled housekeeper and moved swiftly down the hallway.

X X X

Christine was stepping out of the bedroom when Erik reached her. She smiled shyly, blushing a pale pink, but her expression turned to one of startled confusion as he seized her arm roughly and hauling her down the hall towards the servants' stairway.

"Erik!" She tried to dig her heels in and stumbled, and he dragged her to her feet again. His face was like marble, jaw set, eyes hard. "Erik!" she cried again, and he stopped dead, staring at the servants' entry with an expression of undisguised horror and anger flashing in his eyes. There were strange voices echoing up the stairway, loud commanding words and tramping feet, and Christine shrank against the wall in fear and bewilderment, her heart pounding in her throat. Erik stood frozen for a split second before grasping her arm again and dragging her back to their room.

He flung her inside, slamming the door shut and striding across the room to throw open the curtains. He fumbled with the latch on the window – it wouldn't open and he tried to force it, shaking it furiously and cursing. Christine pressed against the vanity table, her breath coming quickly in frightened gasps, her fists pressed to her mouth, staring at the door with huge scared eyes.

She could hear loud footsteps in the hall, Monsieur Nadir's indignant voice, authoritative voices overriding his.

"Erik!" she cried, her voice sounding strangely shrill and panicky. "What's going on?"

Somebody was knocking on the door, rattling the lock – it began to shake with incessant pounding, hammering, thumping….

Erik whirled around, abandoning the window and crossing the room to stand in front of Christine, facing the door. He stared at it, emotions battling on his face, and closed his eyes for half a moment, then opening them again, and turned his head to stare at her. His expression was unreadable, yet his eyes seemed to be screaming in pain.

"What…. what is happening?" she whispered, fear and incomprehension choking her words.

There was a low, agonized sound in his throat, barely audible above the shouting voices, the slamming at the door that reverberated through the room…

The door burst open seconds before Erik backhanded her across the face.

A/N: I hope you all have read the Kay book… otherwise the first part of this chapter probably didn't make much sense. Oh well, even if you haven't, you'll understand it later. :)