In Passing

The black coach arrived in the alley behind the Marseille House well before dawn. The driver, Jerome, jumped down from his seat to calm the horses, giving them both an appreciative pat. The fine animals were his livelihood…the respectable one, at any rate. With four little ones at home, another on the way and an ailing mother to care for, it was the more unsavory side jobs that kept his head above water. He knew whom he was to be meeting here, and he couldn't shake the cold fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He'd done a few jobs for Madame Giry before, and for the man she called Erik. Those were before the fire at the Opera House, though, and now Jerome knew exactly who the masked man was. Still, he had no quarrel with ghosts, and no particular fondness for either the Paris upper crust or the police. He'd already been paid very well by the Madame just to show up and keep quiet, with the promise of an equal payment waiting at the end of the journey. So he stood quietly in the alley, waiting for his passengers.

Right on time, three ladies appeared from the back door of the building. Madame Giry, who he'd met before, and two younger ladies. A pretty little blond and even prettier brunette…but then, Jerome always had preferred dark-haired beauties. He nodded to the ladies, and Madame approached him and handed him a few Francs.

"For your trouble so far, Jerome. I trust you shall continue to be discreet."

"Certainly, Madame." He bent to load the ladies bags into the coach, absently muttering, "I haven't seen a sign of him yet. Hope he didn't get caught up in that trouble back near Rue des Postes."

At the mention of trouble, Christine paled, a gasp escaping her lips as she clutched at Meg's hand. Fear gripped her heart even as Madame Giry laid a hand on Jerome's back to regain his attention, sharply asking, "What trouble?"

Jerome turned, taking note of the ladies' fearful expressions and the young brunette's sudden wan pallor, and he grimaced, "Sorry, ma'maselles…I got stopped by the police on the way here. They searched my coach and asked me where I was off to. Told them I had a prearranged fare to pick up, but I didn't give them any other details." All three ladies seemed to be looking more distressed as he talked, so he rushed to add, "They weren't looking for him, though. They're out looking for a robber that murdered one of his victims sometime after midnight. They think he's still in the area…warned me to be careful."

Tears were falling over Christine's cheeks, and her breath was coming in short panicked gasps. Meg squeezed her friend's hand, attempting to reassure her, "He will be here, Christine. I'm sure the police are too preoccupied with this robber to even notice him."

As if making a mockery of Meg's soothing words, the predawn silence was shattered with a distant gunshot. Christine jumped at the sound. The four people in the alley grew very still. Then another shot rang out, and Christine began to fall apart, her wild eyes seeking out Madame Giry. "M-madame…?"

Antoinette rushed to the girl's side, grabbing onto her arm. "You must not even think it, Christine."

When the third shot split the air, Christine slumped limply into Meg and Madame's arms.

xXx

"Christine…Christine…you must wake up now, child."

Wake up?

No. She did not wish to ever wake again. She was perfectly happy to stay right here in the darkness. With Erik. She could feel his arms around her, hear his heartbeat and smell the spicy scent that clung to his skin. She could see the passion and love in his beautiful eyes. If she opened her own, she knew that her lover would be gone.

"Christine…please…open your eyes."

Meg, now…begging me…

Christine felt consciousness tugging at her, and she tried to sink deeper into the blackness. It was so peaceful there. She had no reason to ever leave.

You most certainly do have a reason, Christine. Your child needs you. Erik's child.

Her breathing began to quicken as she danced around the edge of the waking world. She could feel the tears slipping from beneath her closed eyelids as she climbed back into cold reality.

"Mon ange?"

Her heart jumped in her chest. His voice! Was she dreaming? No…the arms around her seemed to tighten. Slowly, her lashes fluttered open. Shadows blurred her vision before her eyes came sharply into focus. She was staring at a dark cravat and her cheek rested against a strong shoulder. Christine caught her breath as her gaze jerked upward, "Erik…?"

He smiled down at her, "I certainly hope you were not expecting someone else."

A sob escaped her and she flung her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his throat. "Oh, Erik…you're alive."

He chuckled, "Yes…quite." He cupped a hand under her chin and raised her face, eyeing her closely, "Are you well, Christine?"

Christine smiled through her tears, mimicking his words, "Yes…quite." And then she was pulling his head down to kiss him thoroughly, completely mindless to the fact that both Madame Giry and Meg sat across from them trying their best to avert their eyes from the intimate scene. Erik, however, was very aware of their position, as he currently sat in the very confined space of the coach with Christine across his lap. He was also aware of Meg clearing her throat in an attempt to gain Christine's attention, and then trying in vain to stifle her laughter when her friend remained wrapped up in Erik. Madame Giry gently squeezed her daughter's hand in warning, and Erik gently pried Christine from him, sliding across the seat so that he could remove her from his lap.

She suddenly seemed to realize her surroundings, and blushed deeply as she straightened herself onto the seat next to him. She glanced briefly to Madame and Meg, dropping her eyes in embarrassment before she looked back to Erik. She clasped his hand tightly, "What happened?"

Erik sighed through an ironic smile, "It seems you fainted again, my dear."

He had slipped behind the Marseille House a few moments ago to find his angel laying unconscious across the seat of the coach with both Girys trying to rouse her. At the sight of him, Little Meg had jumped out and flung her arms around his shoulders. The moment had been entirely awkward, and he'd not known what to do with the girl. He'd soon realized the reason for her reaction, however, cursing his damned luck once again. The shots fired at Rue des Postes could not have gone unnoticed at so close a distance. Erik should have expected that the ladies would have heard them and thought the worst.

Christine squeezed Erik's hand, in no mood for his games now. "The gunshots, Erik! Tell me you were nowhere near them."

He glanced away, smiling slightly at Madame Giry and Meg who were clearly just as interested in his answer as Christine. "I…was in the vicinity…but as you see…I am unscathed."

Christine eyed him warily, sensing there was more. "What are you not telling me?"

Erik closed his eyes briefly, the memory of what had occurred in the alley rushing back. He had run towards the pipe attached to the two story building that lined the alley, and with one well made leap, he'd given himself a good start at scaling the wall. He'd heard the gunshot and been half expecting to feel the pain of a bullet rip into his flesh, but the pain had never come, and he'd not paused one moment in his frantic ascent. Years of haunting the rafters had made him agile enough, and he'd quickly pulled himself over the top of the building. He'd laid on his back staring at the fading stars above, taking a quick inventory of his senses. There had been no pain, and glancing down at himself, no blood.

He'd risked a look back down into the alley below, and seen the robber slumped against the wall where Erik had left him. Two policemen were already standing over him, both with guns drawn. A third had approached even as Erik watched. The clips of conversation he'd caught told him that the man laying dead in the alley had been the reason for the extra patrols on the streets, and that the final shot fired had been from a police revolver.

Erik had taken a moment to collect himself before taking advantage of the commotion on the ground, leaping over to the adjoining rooftop. He'd slid down into an empty alley when it was safe and quickly closed the remaining distance to the boarding house, using the distraction of the events at Rue des Postes to complete his venture completely unnoticed.

Erik smiled again, looking at Christine. "I assure you, Christine, there is nothing of consequence to tell. The fine Parisian police force has captured their man on this night, and it was not I. Now…are we ready to begin our journey, my love?"

A slow smile spread over Christine's face. She was certain there was more to the story, but at the moment, all that mattered was that Erik was here with her. Safe. "Yes, Erik, more than ready."

Erik nodded, exiting the coach briefly to call Jerome from his watch. He'd intended to use his considerable charms to the intimidate the boy into submission, but Erik looked into the young man's eyes, and saw the flicker of fear there. His mouth twisted in a pleased smile at the sight, and he decided he just might keep his lasso inside his cloak for their little talk. After all, he could be just as dangerous without it.

A/N: Wow...do I put poor Christine through the ringer or what? But Erik is back with her, safe and sound.