A/N: Well I really have no idea what the hell happened to the font and such. Thanks for reviews, and sorry for all delays.

Had Ryan known that every accident he caused would lead Erik and Christine into each other's arms he may have taken a different approach. He watched Erik's former house through a pair of binoculars. The man himself had escaped. Damn, did this guy have all the luck in the world? All rights should have killed this freak killed in a car accident.

Ryan could admit that the brakes had possibly been a bad idea. After all, Christine had been in the car. Something could have happened to her. Then all of this would be for nothing. He'd have to be much more careful about that. The unharmed masked man got back into his huge SUV (Sport Utility Vehicle :D) and dialed a phone. Once a fire team arrived, and the fire was well contained, Erik drove away.

Following this Erik person back to the theater, he contemplated his next move. Obviously he wasn't getting through. The man in the mask fell into the arms of the woman who should rightfully be his. Rage filled him as he glared at the two of them.

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"Chris?" Christine turned to see Ryan standing a few feet away. He smiled warmly at her.

"Oh, hello Ryan." Planting his most charming smile on his face he walked up next to her.

"Are you free for supper tonight? We really should catch up. I want to talk to you." He dimpled at her.

Christine fought the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Actually I already have plans this evening…" Ryan's smile faltered and his eyes narrowed. The masked man no doubt.

"C'mon Chris. I want to get to know you better." He leaned against the wall in front of her. "Do you remember, how our parents always used to say how we'd be married one day? I think they were right." His head descended down toward hers. She quickly stepped out of the way.

"Ryan, that was a long time ago." Her chuckle was soft. "I'm already in a very happy relationship, Ryan."

"I know. With that man in the mask. Chris, I think you should stay away from him. He gives me the creeps. I mean what kind of weirdo wears a ma-" Her hand stung as it met solidly with his cheek. With her chin raised she started to walk by him. Ryan's hand shot out, his fingers closing tightly around her wrist.

"I'm a very wealthy man Chris. I could give you everything you ever wanted."

"Mr. Changy, you have nothing that I want."

This took him aback. Does she know who he is?

"Have you forgotten Miss Daae, that I own and run this theater?"

"No, I haven't. Who do I fill out a sexual harassment statement with?"

"How dare you. Obviously you don't wish to remain employed here."

"Yes, you're right. So long as you're in charge, no, I don't."

Furious, Ryan was ready to tell her to leave. Instead he dropped her wrist.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry. I'm just…worried about you. I really think you should stop seeing that madman at once. I truly fear for your safety. You should come away with me. I'll keep you safe." He took her arm again, more gently this time.

"Ryan, let go of me." She yanked unsuccessfully. Ryan pulled her toward the exit.

"No. He's got you brainwashed or something. You wouldn't really want him over me. He's messed with your head." He tugged on her more.

"Stop it Ryan." Christine was becoming frightened. She pulled harder.

"Christine I'm only doing what's best for you." Before he could finish the sentence a large hand was holding him against the wall by his neck.

"Unhand her." Ryan tried to wheeze something out as the big man crushed his windpipe. "NOW!" Ryan's fingers dropped Christine's wrist. "Don't ever touch her again." Erik dropped the smaller man and reached for Christine. She moved into Erik's embrace while Ryan attempted to stand.

Attacking the man crossed his mind, but he was at a disadvantage. This other man had at least four inches on him, and thirty pounds. Desperately trying to catch his breath Ryan leaned into the wall. He watched Erik comfort Christine and felt jealously growing fiercely. He should be the one holding her, keeping her safe from the wild masked man. The man, he thought, who had just nearly killed him. The man who was now leading Christine away from him. He glared at their backs rubbing the tender flesh of his neck. This meant war.

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His masterpiece was sold. The deal had been made that morning and he insisted that he should bring his own Aminta. She would of course still have to audition and all that but he knew that she was perfect for the role. And they would see it too. She would be lighting up Broadway, just as he'd predicted.

Insurance had covered the losses on his house, but he wouldn't be able to start rebuilding until it was warmer. Faulty wires was the cause the firemen had given him and his insurance company. It seemed plausible. He'd hired professionals, but these things do happen. No one was harmed, and the electrician was fine, so it was only an annoying setback.

Champagne seemed in order. It would have plenty of time to chill as Christine was off somewhere shopping with Giry. He may never see her again. A chuckle escaped him as he jogged across the street. With only a week left in the semester, Christmas was approaching quickly. Holidays weren't something he usually cared about. That all changed when you actually had someone to share them with. Thanksgiving at the Giry's had been only slightly awkward. Far better than spending the day alone he supposed.

When he collapsed on his couch, Lucy jumped up next to him. He tugged the small velvet box from his pocket, and flicked the lid open. The modest diamond twinkled at him. He doubted she'd want anything large and gaudy. On either side of the larger diamond sat a smaller diamond. This was all set in platinum. His thumb brushed over the stones.

"Think she'll like it?" Lucy had no answer for him, only a head tilt. "Right, well…I think tonight's the night." The box snapped shut and he replaced it in his pocket. "Let's make something fabulous for our lovely lady then, shall we?"

The champagne chilled while Erik fumbled about the kitchen. The dog wasn't much help, but he managed.

While he was shaving, he glanced in the mirror. His hair was far too long. The twisted face stared back at him. How could she bear to look at him? He could hardly bear to look at himself. The nerves that he'd kept at bay for most of the day swamped him. Feeling sick, he quickly finished shaving and replaced his mask. He pushed the nerves away, shaking his head.

After a quick run down the street to a flower shop, he was ready for her. Back on the couch, his fingers tapped against his legs.

What if she said no? It would kill him. He would die as soon as the words left her lips that he was sure of.

She loved him, he was sure of that. No, she hadn't said the words, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words. She acted as if she loved him. He smiled and took a deep breath.

Now where the hell was she?