Down the Line

When Meg opened the door of her dressing room after the performance, she fully expected to find Raoul standing there. Instead she saw Jean Ranier, complete with a dozen long stemmed pink roses and a bottle of champagne. Her temper sparked and she attempted to slam the door in his face, but Jean quickly insinuated himself between the door and the frame.

"Please, Marguerite. I must speak with you."

Meg let go of the door, turning into her dressing room with Jean following behind her. "I believe you said quite enough last night, Monsieur."

"And for that, I am truly sorry. I should never have spoken to you in such a way. Forgive me, please?"

Meg crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. "I don't know that I can, Jean. You hurt me deeply."

He nodded, setting aside the flowers and bottle he carried. "I should have chosen my words more carefully. But my concerns are genuine, Marguerite. You must know this, or you would not have reacted so strongly to what I said."

Meg sighed raggedly. "I really do not wish to discuss Raoul with you again."

Jean reached out and cupped his hands around her shoulders. "Then we will not. Can you accept my apology?"

Meg met his eyes, wondering if he was being sincere, or simply playing at some new game. She should not forgive him, she knew, but could she hold a grudge when every word he had said seemed voiced from her own questions? "I will forgive you, Jean. But I will not forget."

He smiled a little, tracing his right hand over her collarbone and up to her cheek. "I understand, my dear Marguerite. You are very special to me, you know. I hope I might still have a chance at your heart, should I decide I do indeed desire it along with the rest of you."

Meg huffed in irritation. "You truly are a wicked man, Jean."

"But you like me."

"Against my better judgment."

"Have dinner with me, my dear. Let me make up for my behavior of last night."

Meg opened her mouth to refuse, but she never got the chance, as Raoul's angry voice cut in on them. "I am afraid the lady is otherwise engaged, Ranier. Now kindly remove your hands before I cut them off."

Jean did not move, did not even turn at Raoul's voice. He merely watched the guilt and panic flash in Meg's lovely eyes as she looked over his shoulder at the vicomte. With a wicked grin, he stroked his hand back down her throat. "Perhaps tomorrow then?"

Meg drew quick breath and jerked away from him at the same moment Raoul lunged forward and physically dragged Ranier back from Meg, slamming the man against the wall.

Meg let out a cry of despair. "Raoul…no!"

For a brief moment, she was certain the two would come to blows, but Jean was not an easy figure to be manhandled and he pushed Raoul away, straightening from the wall and narrowing his eyes. "Touch me again, Vicomte, and I will forget I am a gentleman."

"You are no gentleman, Ranier."

Jean merely smiled that wolfish smile, turned and nodded to Meg. "Enjoy your evening, Marguerite. I will be in touch." He glared at Raoul as he passed.

Raoul stood staring at Meg, hurt and confused and angry beyond belief. He had come upon her dressing room happily looking forward to their evening, only to hear Ranier inside telling her how much he desired her. Hearing Meg admit she liked the man against her better judgment. And all Raoul had been able to think was it's happening again. He had been back at Christine's dressing room, hearing her talk to her angel.

And now Meg was staring at him with the same guilt in her eyes. She had been with Ranier last night. She was still seeing him. Raoul could no longer play this game with her. His gentle seduction was at an end.

"Raoul, I…it isn't what you must think…"

His voice was hard and laced with pain when he spoke. The words felt ripped from his very soul. "Do you love him, Meg?"

Meg stared at Raoul, taken aback by his blunt question. "I have hardly known him long enough to love him."

Raoul's hard gaze softened fractionally, and a strange mix of desperation and hope entered his eyes. "But people have been known to fall in love with only a look…a word..."

"A song?" As he had with Christine. The wordsescaped without thought, born of Meg's own hurt and confusion and, yes, jealousy. Bitingly, she added, "Such a love can be fleeting."

Raoul looked away a moment, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Perhaps." His love for Meg had taken flight with a smile from her, and her every word, every moment in her company had made it soar. When Raoul met Meg's eyes again, it seemed he was trying to look straight into her very heart. He closed the distance between them as he spoke again. "Unless there is a deeper connection beyond that first flutter of emotion. A completion of the soul. A love impossible to deny. Tell me…do you feel that, Meg?"

Yes, she wanted to say. I feel it, but not for Jean.

She could not speak….her eyes held captive by his…unable to look away from the heat…the longing. Dear God, she could almost imagine that she saw love there. She wasn't even aware of the tears escaping down her cheek until Raoul lifted his hand to wipe them away with his thumb. He moved closer, his mouth just inches from hers. She felt his breath flutter against her lips as he whispered. "My sweet Meg."

Then his mouth brushed over hers, gently at first. But that brief contact was enough to ignite the spark between them. Raoul pressed another kiss to Meg's lips, this one more urgent, and she responded. Her arms looped around his neck, one hand tangling into his long hair while Raoul pressed a hand against the small of her back and pulled her closer.

The world seemed to fade away as Meg lost herself in Raoul's kiss. Her entire being melted seamlessly into him and every nerve ending in her body came alive with sensation. The new feelings he was arousing in her were so exquisite that she never wanted them to end. In fact, she wanted even more.

This must be why Christine had smiled so when she'd spoken of Erik.

The wayward thought had the same effect as a bucket of ice water over Meg. With a strangled little cry, she wrenched herself away from Raoul and pushed against his chest, causing him to stumble back a step. "No…Christine…"

Raoul stood staring at Meg through a haze of desire, aroused beyond belief and aching from the sudden loss of her. It took a moment for her words to register in his passion-fogged mind, but when they finally did, he cursed himself for having failed to reassure her of his feelings.

"Meg." He reached out with his right hand and cupped her chin, lifting her face until her sapphire eyes met his once again. "Christine is only a memory to me now. I have fallen in love with you."

Meg felt herself sway; the words so beautiful to her that she would hardly believe that she had heard them. It was what she had been wanting for so long…yet…

She could not make herself forget what Jean had said, and she closed her eyes to break Raoul's intense gaze. Her own doubts crept back in once again. Could she do this; knowing that all of Paris would see her as Christine's replacement? Always wondering if deep inside Raoul would be thinking of his Little Lotte.

She shook her head sadly, realizing how truly naïve her daydreams of love had been. "She will always be between us, Raoul. We will never be free of her."

Raoul dropped his hand, stunned that Meg would say such a thing…with words so familiar to him. He took her hands in his, desperate now to make her believe.

"Meg, look at me. Can you not see the truth of my feelings? My love is yours alone. If Christine is between us, it is you who have placed her there."

Meg met his eyes, wanting so badly to believe him. But they were only words, and words could easily lose their meaning.

And then I will lose even his friendship.

"I…am sorry, Raoul. But I cannot help but feel her here with us. And if she were here….I would be…nothing…to you."

Raoul felt his heart breaking again. "No! Meg, you are everything to me! How can I convince you?"

How, indeed? Even if Raoul were truly free of Christine, Meg was not. There were secrets that Meg could not share, and she felt caught between her loyalty to her friend and her loyalty to the man before her now.

Meg turned pleading eyes to him; her heart wanting to give in, her head telling her there was too much left unresolved. She gave Raoul the only answer she could at the moment. "I…time…please… give me…time."

Raoul drew a ragged breath. Time?

She was asking him for time, and Raoul suddenly recalled the words Meg herself had once spoken to him.

Such a small thing to grant to the woman you claimed to love.

As impatient as he suddenly felt to press Meg for more, he could not refuse her when she was looking at him in such a way. His sweet Meg needed reassurance that his heart belonged only to her now, and he would spend the rest of his life providing it if she would allow him. He took her small hand with his own. "I will grant you anything, my love."

Her eyes turned liquid, and Raoul found himself unable to resist pressing another soft kiss to her lips. He wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss and sink with Meg into the sofa, but he had only just promised her time, so he forced himself to pull away.

"Perhaps…" He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Perhaps we should see to dinner now.'

Meg dragged in a deep breath. "Y-yes. I think we should."

A/N: I know...so close...but the whole issue of Christine really does need to be resolved before Meg and Raoul can ever completely move on.