- --

She felt the heat first, warm and soothing on her back. She rolled over in the soft pillows, facing a pool of light that poured through the open shutters of the bedroom. Christine squinted slightly while fluttering her eyes open. The room was so bright; her eyes throbbed for awhile before they adjusted. The tiniest of breezes came fluttering past the muslin curtains, which made Christine smile slightly, pulling the crisp white sheets up to her chin. She felt so peaceful, she wondered why. And soon she came to realize it was the absence of heavy thoughts and nightmares that had so recently plagued her mind, leaving the images imprinted in her waking moments. There had been only deep peace in her sleep, and she began to understand the reasons.

Christine heard a deep sigh next to her, and turned to the man who lay there. He was breathing softly, his chest rising and falling steadily. His eyes were shut in slumber, and on his lips, the tiniest of smiles. Christine lay watching him for a long time, admiring his magnificent form. She stroked the side of his face ever so gently, the side that held such heart breaking good looks; it would turn heads of admiration. She laid a soothing hand the other side, the side of his face that would turn heads for reasons of horror and hatred. But he looked so peaceful, so gentle and calm that he looked beautiful to her anyway.

As he began to wake, Christine snuggled into his shoulder, unwilling to be shifted from their moments of serenity, something they had been robbed from long ago.

Erik decided before he opened his eyes that the feeling that he felt at that very moment was the most heavenly he had ever felt. The sunlight, which had been so rejected in his past, woke him gently and kindly, as if in forgiveness to his shunning of its rays. He sighed deeply, opening his eyes and being greeted by an angel, his angel. Christine was lying on her arm, with her curls falling majestically onto the white and terracotta pillows. She smiled at him and sat up slightly, propping herself onto her elbows. The morning light from the window behind her sent a glowing light around her. He had to catch his breath slightly.

"Morning." She whispered, stroking his arm tenderly. He instinctively sent a hand up to his face, as if in realization of his nakedness, not from his body, but his face. But Christine leaned over and kissed him, making him totally forget in an instant. He drank in her scent, curling his fingers in her hair. She laid her head against his chest, letting it rise and fall with his breaths. He stroked her for a while, trailing his hand down the soft skin of her back and neck. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to ruin the perfect moments they were having, so remained silent for a long time, until Christine sat up again. "Are you alright?"

He stared deeply into her chocolate eyes that gazed so lovingly at him, he thought he could weep. "Yes, my love." He half spoke, half whispered. She smiled; the morning light twinkling in her eyes. "Christine?"

"Yes?" She cocked her head to the side in waiting.

Should he dare? Should he dare ask what his heart has always wanted, what she knew he wanted? He was terrified. Terrified one wrong word would send her away once more. If she went away this time, he would defiantly die of heartache. He had had too much of her to let her go. Her safety was his main priority, as it always had been, and his love for her would play a part in that. Asking this one question may save them, or destroy them. He took a deep breath.

"Christine…I ask in the interest of your safety! You would be a lot safer if…if you were to agree."

She looked at him worried and confused. "Agree to what?" He furrowed his head into a frown. How could he ask her? It was so hard! He didn't want to bruise the memory of her precious Vicomte. Not for him, but for her.

"You understand…you know that you are safer with a different name, so I wonder…if…if the idea is not too painful for you…we could…you will..?"

Her eyes widened. He could not see the emotion written there. Confusion, realisation, pain, shock, happiness? Any could be possible. He braced himself for the answer.

Christine felt her heart leap into her mouth. Her mind jumped straight to Raoul, when he had asked her the same thing, so romantically and so secretly, from the man in front of her. Her heart pained at his memory, throbbing violently. Could she betray another loves memory? Yet another emotion also flooded her senses. A feeling she found to be quite pleasant... A saddened joy that the question; so unromantically asked by Erik, had come at such a beautiful time for such sad reasons. She begged against his wishes.

"I will not…" She began. She saw the pain rage terribly in his face, tearing his heart. She regretted choosing those words. She hastily carried on, "…will not if it is safety that you prioritise." He furrowed his brow. She smiled, and pulled herself up close to his lips and whispered. "Tell me you love me first."

His voice cracked with bubbling emotion. He whispered, his lips brushing softly past hers,

"…I love you."

As she kissed him, she muttered through her breaths. "Then…I…I will. I will marry you Erik."

- --

It must have been a fine house, Thought a woman, stepping quietly into the morning lit building. The joy of the rays did not lighten the atmosphere of the place, which was old, derelict and eerie. The walls whispered of family's secrets, laughter, births, deaths and wealth that once was. The windows were all boarded up, save the doors, which aloud the sun limited entrance. It was still cool, as the sun had been around less than 20 minutes, but the abandoned house seemed colder than usual. The meeting, of course set a dark light on the place. A woman and a man, maybe a couple, stood waiting in the entrance to the building. They looked tense, casting worried glances around incase of prying eyes. Every passer by they would hide from, yet they would take no notice to the old building, uninhabited for years. This was good. Secrecy is what they wanted. Or what one of them wanted.

"You promised, remember? Just the documents. We get them and leave. That's all I'm helping you with."

The man sneered at the woman, cocking an eyebrow upwards. The woman cast a repulsed look back at him through her dark cloak and veil.

"I promised." He growled. "But if your friend puts up a fight, I can't see any reason not to use this."

Robard pulled out a long silver gun from his waistcoat. Madame Giry swallowed in response. "You see," He continued. "I have no use for wasting time. As log as I know this man has the documents, and then it won't take very long to find them. I don't need him. Killing him won't affect anything. So, you better warn him that resistance will not get him anywhere!"

At that point, someone stepped through the archway, and they both stepped back, startled. It was a woman, dressed in distinct colours of orange and yellow. She had gold dripping from her wrists and neck, and her face was covered by a very deep, angry shade of orange. Her eyes fluttered to Robard, and he sighed and smiled.

"Madame, thank you. I hope your journey here was not too testing."

"Not at all." She replied back in perfect French. It was heavily accented, yet it sounded as formal and as proper as any Parisian woman. "Madame."

She nodded in the direction of Madame Giry, who flung her head back, looking down her nose at the young girl. The girl ignored her and walked to Robard. She was very commanding in her presence, for such a young person. Her confidence echoed in her voice.

"So, Monsieur, you wish for something I have, non?"

Robard smirked and his eyes glittered. Madame felt her heart sink with disgust. How she hated this man. How she hated the way she had dragged her across the world to find something as stupid as documents. She felt such murderous anger towards him for leaving their daughter under the protection of his own henchmen, which she had witnessed almost raping her. She prayed to God she had not done anything to provoke them. She fought back tears angrily, waiting patiently for her time. Her time when this would all be over, and Christine's safety had not been breached by her. She would help find the documents for her own daughter's safety, and Christine would still remain safe for a time, at least.

Her mind fluttered back to all those years ago, almost 12 years ago, when she had arrived at the Opera with a young girl. She had put the girl to bed in her dormitory, wiping her tears as she left her. The little girl had been through so much, Madame Giry could hardly bare to see her in times of fret again. She had to put these documents which her father had trusted to her, somewhere safe. She knew somewhere, or particularly, someone, who would have little trouble keeping them a secret.

Madame Giry had wandered every so carefully down that damp, dark passage way to the lake, where she had took the small gondolier to the inhabited underground. She had found him hunched over his organ, frustratingly scribbling notes of music. He was a young man, in his late 20's; with a tormented face that clashed with his dashing good looks of one side. He had listened carefully to Madame Giry and her proposal.

"Erik, I need you to take care of something for me."

She remembered his raised eyebrow, while she had carried on.

"A small girl, Daae, has come back with me to live in the Opera." She had explained. "Her father was a good friend of mine, and he has left his inheritance to her. Yet it will only pass to her on her 19th birthday, and so I need these documents safe until that time comes. Could you be so kind?"

Erik had snorted, yet took the documents, and the small black box she handed him.

"What's this?"

"That is for her eyes only. I will come for it one day, and I will give it to her."

He had pawed the box carefully, frowning slightly.

"What was the girls name again?"

"Daae. Christine Daae."

Robard and the young woman had been talking for a while, until loggerheads had come.

"Monsieur, I see no benefit for me. If I betray the presence of this man, I could loose more than I gain."

The man frowned. He saw this woman was not interested in money. She could not be bought for the information he needed so much. He had searched this land for weeks, and had no success. He was beginning to loose his patience with Madame Giry, who had sworn that the documents were here, with someone she had confided them with. He had no doubt that she wouldn't lie, her daughters life rested on it, yet, he knew she was hesitant to help completely in finding his whereabouts. She seemed obsessed with the man's safety. When they had arrived in Persia, she had known where about in Persia he was, yet nothing specific. They had had to search the entire city for clues, listening in Kasbahs, cafes, ports, local towns for anything that could give them a clue to the mystery mans hiding place. It was only until Robard had 'found' himself in a brothel, did he overhear 2 young women, talking about a mysterious customer. One of these girls had been particularly upset by it, and seemed keen to get herself involved with the conversation with Robard on finding him for means of threatening. He guessed this man had hurt her in someway. Maybe he could play on that now…

"Is there…anything you want from this man? Anything…I can maybe…arrange for you?" He stroked his gun slyly as he said this. Her eyes twinkled slightly as she realised the power this man had.

He could get the one thing she wanted. Erik. She had been so angry with him, yet so madly in love. Only one person stood in the way. She felt such raging hate towards her, she would do anything to get her out of the way. Maybe this man could be the one who could help Sara…