In Return

The next many days passed without much ado. The Crawfords had paid a visit early on to meet the family that Christine had been so excited to see again, and they had all gotten along quite well. As Christine had suspected, the still somewhat reserved Victoria had not known quite what to make of Meg's teasing banter at first. Although Meg had been a great deal more subdued than usual.

Christine had been sensing her friend's odd mood almost from the moment of her arrival, and honestly did not know what to think of it. Meg was, for the most part, her usual spirited self when she spoke with Christine, but there was a strange wistfulness in her eyes. Christine had even broached the subject with Madame…Antoinette…asking if everything was truly well. Antoinette had skillfully evaded, reassuring Christine that Meg would certainly speak with her if something was amiss.

Christine decided to give her friend every opportunity to do so. They were currently walking in the small orchard behind the house, and Christine was somewhat surprised that Erik had let her go. He was constantly tucking her into chairs and onto sofas lately, even though Doctor Winston had actually encouraged some light exercise. Christine cast a sidelong look to Meg, who was staring out to the ocean.

"Meg, you've still not told me…why did you really refuse to return to the Opera Populaire? It cannot only be because your mother disapproved."

Meg laughed lightly, "We are speaking of my mother, are we not?"

Christine smiled, but shook her head firmly. According to Meg, the Populaire had been completely renovated and was beginning preparations for the opening gala even now. "I cannot believe that she would not wish to return there. Monsieur Ranier cannot be such a man to keep her away from the home she loved."

Meg sighed, "I think there are too many unpleasant memories there now, Christine." At her friend's visible distress, Meg rushed on, "You must remember…all those years of secrets, of her own guilt over everything…as much as she loved the Populaire, I really think she has found a certain peace at the Theatre Soliel that she'd not known before." After a brief moment of silence, Meg grinned wickedly, "And she would not wish to abandon Monsieur LeCleur."

Christine giggled at the reference to Madame Giry's besotted manager. "Meg, please. I do not wish to have that image in my mind."

Meg joined in her friend's laughter, catching her breath after a moment to admit, "To be honest, Christine, Jean Ranier is such a man to keep Maman away from the Opera House. She cannot abide him…either his manner or his business practices."

Christine eyed Meg carefully, "And what of you, Meg? Can you abide him? I do not mean as a suitor, but…the ballet at the Opera, Meg? The Prima? Is that not what you always wished for?"

Meg looked back to the ocean, a strange smile playing on her lips. "I am lately finding myself wishing a great many things." She sighed, "And the stage of the Populaire is least amongst them."

Christine raised her brows in surprise. She never imagined hearing Meg say such a thing. Instead of quelling her curiosity, she found herself with even more questions. "Meg…I know so much has changed in these last months, but you know that I am still your friend. If there is something you need to talk about, I am here to listen."

Meg turned then, her smile trembling slightly. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. With a slight shake of her head, her smiled turned a bit more certain, "I know, Christine. We will talk soon…really talk…I promise you. Now, I must get you back inside to rest before Erik comes out in search of us."

Christine rolled her eyes indulgently, "Yes, mother."

Meg laughed, "Mother, am I?" She turned Christine by the shoulders, looping an arm around her waist as she began to guide her back to the house. "My friend, I do believe you are in need of a mirror. There is but one mother between us, and I am not she."

Christine was still smiling in merriment when she and Meg entered the house through the terrace doors, only to be greeted by the angry sounds of an argument. There was a man's voice, slightly raspy and dripping with disdain.

"You bastard! You tried to kill me."

Christine's heart stalled, and she felt Meg tense beside her, but she didn't stop to think of anything but moving towards the sound.

"As I would any uninvited pest in my home. Now tell me quickly why you are here, boy, or I will finish the job."

Erik. Oh God, Erik…what are you doing?

"You took her after all. Stole her away."

Christine came to a dead stop in the foyer, her mind registered the owner of the voice even as her eyes went wide at the sight before her. There, like a scene from one of her nightmares, stood her husband, cold murder in his eyes, his lasso dangling from one hand and the tip of a sword pressed firmly against the throat of le Vicomte de Chagny.

Raoul?

Erik growled, "I have stolen nothing! Only claimed what was mine. What has always been mine."

Christine gasped, "Erik!"

Both men turned toward her, their faces wearing matching expressions of rage and hatred, but only for a moment. Erik's eyes flashed with immediate concern for Christine, and Raoul's filled with shock.

Christine looked at Erik with pleading eyes, "What are you doing? Let him go, please."

She watched Erik sigh dejectedly, grateful when he dropped the sword from Raoul's throat. He turned back to his would-be-prey, "She saves you once again, Vicomte."

Christine looked at Raoul, as well. His face still wore a look of stunned disbelief. He was staring at her as though he'd never before seen her, and Christine suddenly realized that he hadn't. Not like this. Her hands flew to her belly, and she stood trembling before him.

What is he doing here? How did he find us? God, he knows. He knows everything now.

"Christine?" He took several steps toward her, then he froze, the dazed look on his face being suddenly replaced with one of confused anger. "God, what has he done to you?"

Christine's spine stiffened at his tone, every one of her protective instincts firing to life. Her temper sparked at his implication. "Nothing I have not asked him to, Raoul." Erik chuckled at his wife's biting retort, and she glared at him, "Do you think you are forgiven for attempting to spill blood in my hallway?"

Erik sobered immediately, his eyes darkening. "It is le Vicomte's own blade, mon ange."

"I do not care." Her eyes filled with tears and her voice trembled. "You promised me, Erik." Christine saw his eyes drop slightly, and she inwardly cringed. Had she expected him to welcome Raoul in any other way? She turned her angry, tearful gaze back to their uninvited guest. "Why did you come here? Why couldn't you just let us be?" She spun awkwardly, rushing into Meg's arms, who had been just one step behind Christine. She felt her friend's arms close around.

This cannot be happening. Not now. Not when Erik and I are finally happy.

Raoul's voice cut in through the haze of Christine's grief, yet it was not she whom he addressed. "Meg…?"

"You've done enough." Meg turned fierce eyes from Raoul to Erik. "Both of you." Then her voice softened as she stroked Christine's hair. "Come now, Christine. You mustn't let them upset you. No harm was done." Christine felt her friend stiffen. "Tell me you came alone, Raoul."

"I…?"

Christine's head snapped up, and she felt faint. Her eyes fastened on Erik, who looked very close to running the blade he still held through Raoul's back. "God, no, please…! Erik…?"

He grimaced, sheathing the blade as he crossed the short distance to his wife. He reached for her and she moved easily from Meg's arms into his. "Sh, mon ange. It will be alright."

He glared again at Raoul, ready to kill the boy. Erik had seen the fop as soon as he'd stepped from the hansom, and the moment the front door opened there had been a rope around the Vicomte's neck. He'd wanted nothing more than to strangle the life from the boy, but he'd not taken a life since he'd made his damned promise to Christine. Erik had shown the fool a moment of mercy….asked for a reason not to snap his neck. It was the boy's answer that had stopped Erik. One rather unexpected word.

Meg.

Her voice rang out through the foyer, strong and firm, stopping Erik from threatening the man again.

"Raoul…answer me."

Raoul looked at Meg, and took a tentative step towards her only to have her take a step back. His eyes flashed annoyance, "Of course I came alone. How can you ask me such a thing, Meg?"

"How? Raoul, you had me followed! I trusted you."

Raoul frowned, "You call this trust? You lied to me, Meg! All you told me of this trip was so perfectly calculated to keep me in the dark! And I believed every word…because I believed in you. Just as I believed you when you told me Ranier meant nothing to you!"

Christine caught her breath as she listened to Raoul's exchange with Meg. Her tears abated slightly and now her mind began to focus on the shift in their argument.

"What has Jean to do with any of this?"

"Exactly what I wish to know! Where is he, Meg?"

"I…assume he is in Paris."

"He is not, and you well know it. Or will you deny to me that he traveled with you to Calais?"

Meg gasped, "How…?"

Raoul wore a deep scowl, "He made no secret of the fact, Meg! Do you have any idea what it did to me to hear that you had eloped with him?"

At that, Christine gasped audibly, her mind spinning again.

Meg? Eloped with Jean Ranier? No…she could not have…

Meg's face registering shock at the accusation. "E-eloped? Where did you ever get an idea like that?"

Christine's eyes drifted away from Meg to Erik, who was now watching the altercation with a strange amusement. Then she looked to Raoul when his clipped response captured her attention again.

"The entire cast at le Soliel is gossiping about it! And the cad's assistant confirmed he had booked passage on your train."

There was a brief hesitation, and Christine found herself studying Meg's face again, awaiting her friend's answer just as Raoul was.

Raoul…who is treating Meg as if…

Could it be?

Meg colored slightly, "Jean…did travel with us, Raoul, but he was certainly not invited! And we parted company in Calais."

Raoul closed his eyes and sighed in relief, "Then you are not…his wife?"

Meg's eyes flashed, "God, no!"

Christine saw the smile light Raoul's face, watched his rigid posture sag with relief and his eyes rake over Meg as if she were the center of his world. His voice buzzed in Christine's ears as sudden understanding washed over her, and she felt like a fool for not having seen it sooner. She cut into their conversation, "You came after Meg, then?"

Both Raoul and Meg turned to look at Christine, the momentary confusion in their eyes making it clear that they'd not even remembered that there was anyone else in the room with them. Raoul nodded to her, his neck turning ruddy in embarrassment, "I…yes. It wasn't until I arrived in Dover that I began to realize…" He stopped, turning back to Meg with a frown, "You did lie to me."

Meg sighed raggedly, her voice barely a whisper, "So did you."

Christine looked from her friend to her former fiancée, her chest feeling strangely tight with an emotion she could not quite name. If she did not know better, she would think it…jealousy.

But that is ridiculous. I cannot be jealous. I love Erik.

"Erik…" She looked up at him, seeing the hard look in his eyes. She had felt his body grow tense when she'd interrupted Meg and Raoul's argument, and now she saw his own dark jealousy raging in his eyes. She looked away, "I am suddenly feeling… very tired. Could we sit awhile?"

Erik felt his grasp on control slipping away. His fist tightened on the sheathed sword still held firmly in his grasp. The Vicomte's blade, concealed in a fine gentleman's cane. Yet the boy had not come to kill him. He'd not brought any police. He had not even come for Christine. It was very clear now that he'd come for Little Giry...and Christine was clearly not happy about that. Erik felt the child kick between them, and he attempted to push aside his dark thoughts.

He set Christine away from him and placed a comforting hand at his wife's back. With a sharp look of warning to the boy, he guided Christine toward the parlor. He looked at Meg in passing, and the expression on the girl's face told him all he needed to know about her feelings for the Vicomte. He muttered, "Come along, then."

Erik looked up as he passed the stairs and saw Madame Giry standing four steps from the bottom, obviously having heard most, if not all, of the conversation. She nodded to him before continuing down toward the Vicomte.

Fate had brought them all to this moment…and there would be no turning back.

A/N: Uh, oh...unresolved issues all around.