A/N: See the end of the chapter. I don't want to give stuff away before you read it.

But I do promise that this chapter does come with a 100 Raoul-Free Guarantee so enjoy the lack of Raoul!

ilustgerik: Yes, in the words of Scooby Doo, "Ruh-roh." Well said

phantomann: Hee hee – So I caught you unawares, eh. Hurray! I thought you might appreciate my evil plot twist. Of course there will be no shortage of fluff before the action begins. As to the killing Erik off thing, well you will have to wait and see like everybody else. Sorry! (Evil cackle) PS – Go buy some paper. I gotta know when Tina and Erik are going to hook up. When are you coming back, woman? Jema and I are in withdrawal.

Kagome1514: "Stupid Raoul...stupid fop" – I couldn't have said it better myself. Erik caught Jacques offguard and quite drunk last time, so he will most likely prove a more challenging adversary this time, but yeah, his chances of killing the Erik are about the same as my chances of being spirited away by a certain masked fictional character. Still, Jacques and I continue to dream our impossible dreams...sigh.

Hearts Aflame: Awwww. I love forgiving readers who will allow me my sinful plot twists and love me anyway. Erik plushies to you, my dear. (Still don't know what those are. Like a little stuffed Erik doll, is that it? Hmmmm. Can you get them in life-size I wonder? With a wicked grin, DD runs off in search of the nearest toy store.)

eternalcelestial: More fluff for you. I am glad you enjoy all my twists and turns.

Twinkle 22: Love the "I hate Raoul" rant. No Raoul in this one, I promise. Only EC. And please don't die. I am still trying to update as quickly as my busy life allows.

Orphelia-Rose: Manure/Raoul – yes the two words do seem to go together, don't they? Ahhhh, but careful, Jacques is hardly a new character. We saw him back in chapters 11 and 12, remember? Hanging by his ankles like a ham in a butcher shop window? And yes, Erik has bested them both once already, but Jacques and Raoul are hardly likely to fight fair. Let us hope that Erik's newfound happiness will not diminish his skills of self preservation.

erikfan: Loved your little comment about the Raoul getting the "fate he deserves" rather than it being "denied". LOL! Yeah, Erik should get some payback, don't you think?

draegon-fire: Right. Jacques and Raoul do not know that Nadir has already conveyed the message in person without the second page of the letter. They are operating under the assumption that E and C have not yet hooked up. So now the question comes as to what will they do when they show up to find E and C together. Stay tuned!

xxphantomphanessxx: I never liked him either, from the first moment I laid eyes on that ridiculous hair. And sorry, my muse leads where it will.

Pertie: Thank you. Thank you. I do try.

Captain Oblivious: Of COURSE Raoul is a complete idiot. Anyone who can still be singing "There is no Phantom of the Opera" while a stage hand is dangling from the rafters by a Punjab lasso has got to be an idiot. PS – What exactly is "glomping"? Just curious. And I hope you don't have neighbors below that wood floor you are tromping around on. (Because of your screen name, I always picture you in pirate boots, so that would be pretty loud.)

lafemme540: I shall endeavor to be worthy of the title you have bestowed upon me. "Dratted Jacques" does indeed turn up like a bad penny, just as Jema Moda noted in her review. I won't Punjab you for feeling sorry for the fop yet, though I AM rather disappointed in you, but if you still feel any hint of sympathy for him by the end I will be forced to ask Erik for instruction in the art. Glad you liked the twist and didn't see it coming.

xo-little-lotte-xo: LOL! – But what are you apologizing to me for? Pass the skillet, woman! Take that, Raoul! And that! And that! Like xo-little-lotte-xo said so eloquently, "SHE DOESN"T WANT YOU!" Get it through your fractured skull!

Jema Moda: I don't like any loose ends, so my own eye would have started to twitch if I hadn't shared the remainder of the letter. I am a wee bit obsessive-compulsive, so such a thing would have really been impossible for me anyway. And personally, I was so enchanted by your "poetic prose" that I am going to repeat it here: "de Chagny's all suck". Well said.

Sabrina Fair: I am glad you have recovered from your bout of feeling sorry for the fop. We can't have that among all these EC shippers. From this point on, you won't find much to like about him. He has passed "the point of no return" into villainy I am afraid.

Abby Kovac: I know. Double UGH. I hate Raoul too, passionately.

Ch. 16 – New Beginnings

Dawn was breaking softly over the eastern hills when Erik at last brought the great black horse to a halt in the alley behind the Teatro Comunale. He glanced down with a smile. Christine was fast asleep against his chest, after having sworn she was not a bit tired when he had asked just before leaving. He hated to disturb her, but thought it best she return to the opera house before her absence was noticed.

Erik leaned down and whispered gently against her ear, "I am sorry my love but I am afraid I must return you now to your home."

Christine stirred, smiling as she opened her eyes to find herself in his arms. Erik swung down from the horse and raised a hand to steady her as she climbed drowsily from the saddle. Realizing where she was, Christine sighed in disappointment. She had wished for the enchantment of the previous night never to end, but now it appeared it must. She frowned as she realized Erik intended to leave.

"Where will you go now?" She had a sudden gripping fear that he might disappear again.

Erik stepped forward, pulling her into the reassuring circle of his arms. He could see the uncertainty in her expression and leaned down quickly with a kiss to quiet her fears. When he drew back at last, he brushed a gloved hand gently along the line of her jaw, holding her eyes intently, as if seeking to memorize her face. "I own a villa just outside the city," he said softly. "Today is Sunday. Perhaps after you have had some rest, you might care to join me there?" He hoped he wasn't being too forward, but even after spending an entire night with her, he found he was already hungry for more.

Christine looked up into the face of the unique man she had grown to cherish. "I would like nothing more than to spend the day with you, Erik," she said quietly. And he knew that she meant it.

Erik bent to touch his lips briefly to the back of her hand, his intense gray eyes never leaving hers. Even at this tiny contact, a thrill stole through her entire body, and his burning eyes seemed to promise so much more to come. Christine felt her breathing quicken, at the thought.

"Buona notte, signora," he said softly. Smiling, he turned and mounted his horse in one easy, fluid motion.

He is grace incarnate, Christine thought to herself, watching him in awe. With a brief nod of farewell, Erik tightened his heels around the horse's flanks. The two dark figures melted into one, chasing the fleeting night as if racing the rays of the morning sun that had just begun to touch the city streets with gold.

Sighing blissfully, she reluctantly turned and retreated into the opera house.

Christine awoke several hours later in the comfort of her room. She sat up stretching idly and smiling like a fool. So this is what it truly feels like to be in love, she thought with a grin. She threw off the covers and pirouetted around her room in sheer giddy joy. She felt lit up inside, as if a secret fire had been ignited in her spirit. The daylight poured through the window, its brightness mirroring her glorious mood.

Wondering suddenly just how long she had been asleep, Christine glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. Startled, she flew to her wardrobe, hastily digging through her many dresses to find just the right one. She smiled when she pulled out her very favorite: a dress in creamy yellow, just the color of the muted Tuscan sunshine. She hurried to bathe and change, for she was uncertain what time he would arrive and she didn't want to waste a moment of their first real day in each other's company. After all, every other minute they had spent together over the years had been in the dark of night. How wonderful it would be to know Erik in the light of day at last.

With her mahogany ringlets carefully arranged in a low shimmering mass just above the nape of her neck, she slid into the fine taffeta of her dress and turned to survey herself critically in the mirror. The color was perfect, the sunshiny yellow reflecting the optimism radiating from her impatient heart and lending warmth to her fair skin. The bodice of the dress was well fitted and the neckline just low enough to show the gentle curve of her breasts. She touched her cheeks with a trace of rouge and applied the tiniest bit of kohl to her eyes. Just as she was reaching for her matching hat, there was a knock at the door. Christine hurriedly arranged the hat atop her head and reached for her wrap, drawing in a deep breath as she swept gracefully to the door and opened it with great anticipation.

Much to her dismay, it was not a white mask, but the smiling face of the opera manager that met her expectant eyes. Trying in vain to conceal her disappointment, Christine managed a weak smile. "Signor Buenechelli, I was not expecting you." That was certainly true, she thought in annoyance.

A balding, plain man in his fifties, Buenechelli had always been slightly in awe of his mysterious French prima donna. His admiration had only grown with the tidings he was about to impart, "Signora de Renoir," he said with an air of imagined self importance, "I do apologize for the intrusion, but I have some wonderful news to share with you."

Christine looked past him impatiently to the hallway. Hopefully, he would not stay long. Still, as she turned her attention reluctantly back to his face, she gave him her best gilded actress smile. "I do hope this won't take long, Signor Buenechelli, you see I was just leaving..."

Buenechelli interrupted before she could make her excuses. "Signor Romando sent word today. Their lead soprano has had an unfortunate accident and will not be able to complete the season. They wish for you to assume the lead role in Verdi's latest work."

In his excitement, all of the words came out in one long rush so that Christine had to think for a moment before she could at last comprehend them.

At first, she said nothing, simply taking in the information, but all at once a brilliant smile spread across her face. "La Scala," she whispered in disbelief. It was the most famous and grand of all the opera houses in the world. Every opera singer alive dreamt of hearing his or her voice echoing back triumphantly from its opulent hallowed walls. Christine was no exception among them.

Erik will be pleased, she thought in delight. To be offered the position of leading soprano at the world renowned La Scala was the greatest achievement any singer could ever hope to attain. And ultimately, it was Erik whom had brought her here. It was he who had looked beyond the awkward shyness of that orphaned chorus girl so many years ago and had seen something greater. She owed her triumph to him.

Suddenly realizing that Signor Buenechelli was still awaiting her response to his announcement, she broke from her thoughts abruptly and met his eyes with a bright smile. "When would they like me to start?" she asked, exultant jubilation dancing through her veins.

Buenechelli beamed. "In two week's time. Of course that doesn't give me much of a chance to find a replacement, but I suppose we will manage."

Christine smiled at him, sincerely this time. "Thank you, Signor Buenechelli for your understanding, and for bringing me these wonderful tidings as well."

"You are most welcome, Signora. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my office to make the necessary arrangements." Buenechelli made an awkward attempt at a bow and turned to leave.

"Of course, Signor. Grazie." Christine felt her heart nearly filled to overflowing with joy and gratitude. Within a two-day span she had somehow managed to be reunited with her lost love and achieve her lifelong goal.

Her cheeks flushed with excitement, she stepped back into her room and noticed at once a fine gray envelope tied with a black ribbon on the floor by the doorway. Grinning madly, she retrieved it, hastily reading its contents. He would be sending a carriage at two o'clock to fetch her.

She looked over at the clock in alarm. It was already five minutes past! Knowing that Erik abhorred lateness, she hastily reached for her handbag and fairly ran for the door. She couldn't wait to share with him her news. She was about to become the reigning diva in the world's premiere opera house. And Milan was such a remarkable city. Christine smiled. Yes, Erik was certain to be thrilled.

A/N: I would just like to reassure you all that Erik was in no way involved in the "unfortunate accident" that rendered the former diva of La Scala unable to perform and perpetuated Christine's leap into stardom. In this one instance, he is completely innocent and I can prove it. He was here with me the whole time. (Hee Hee Hee! Sorry Jema. You see, one thing led to another...)