My gosh...the reviews are so awesome! They inspire me to write more more more!

LOL! And now...without further ado...The Masquerade

-Nico

Raoul had not been kidding when he demanded nothing but the best for the Masquerade ball.

Christine and Erik were late; it was nearly 9pm. Raoul had suggested Christine arrive slightly after 8 in order to make a grand entrance…she just hoped that he wasn't cross.

Silently, they walked down the now empty hallway leading to the ballroom. Christine felt Erik's forearm tighten under her hand as they drew closer to the grand, gilded ballroom doors. Behind the closed doors laughter, music, and general merriment could be heard.

Christine stopped before the doors, turning to face Erik. Since the fantastic mask he wore mostly obscured his face, it was unreadable…

But his eyes held a look of anxious anticipation…and something darker Christine could not identify.

"Erik," she said softly, placing her gloved hand on his cheek to soothe him. "Everything will be fine."

Erik looked down at her, smiling tightly. "Yes," he replied, his voice low and resonating. "I believe it will."

Christine smiled back at him, returning to his side, looping her arm properly through his.

"Then are you ready?" She asked, looking straightforward.

Erik sighed, placing his gloved hand on the golden door handle.

As the heavy door swung open, a scene spread out before them unlike anything either had ever seen before.

They stood in the entranceway, which spilled out onto a sort of platform at the top of a wide, marble staircase. The design was intentional in that it allowed nearly every guest to make an elegant entrance, reveling in the fact that once their feet touched the top step, all eyes would be on them as they made their descent.

No one had noticed the extravagant couple standing in awe at the top of the stairs yet, which allowed Erik to grasp his bearings. Music coursed through the large room…music that was not quite Erik's taste, but suitable for the happy occasion. Couples swirled around the highly polished floor, a mass of colors and movement that dazzled the senses. Fragrant meats and other delicacies tickled the nose, while champagne corks exploded all around them.

Christine tugged at his arm, coaxing him to the light that spilled over the top of the staircase.

No sooner had they stepped into that light than a hush fell over the crowd, who was obviously in awe of the presence of their newest diva and the mysterious masked man at her side.

The first face Erik's cool gaze fell upon was Raoul, who had been smiling broadly until the moment his eyes met Erik's.

Then, his entire presence changed, reflecting a truly crestfallen human being.

Christine, who was getting used to being the center of attention, merely smiled widely, allowing her angelic form to float down the staircase beside Erik, who took the steps in smooth strides, careful to exude the intense presence he always radiated when threatened.

It was little Meg Giry who broke the silence, hurrying over to the base of the stairwell just as Erik and Christine completed their descent.

"Christine!" Meg breathed. "You look positively gorgeous!"

Christine smiled at her friend's compliment. "Thank you, Meg," she said warmly. Then, looking up at Erik, she spoke again. "Meg Giry, please allow me to introduce Sir Erik DuLange, her Royal Highness's finest composer."

Meg's face changed into a knowing expression. She flashed Christine a smile before curtseying politely. "Monsieur DuLange," she said, "So nice to finally meet you."

Erik took the young dancer's hand and lightly placed a kiss on the back of it. "The pleasure is all mine," he replied in careful, British-accented French. Christine's eyebrows raised in surprise. The greeting had sounded so natural…as if Erik had been a member of polite society his entire life.

Would he ever cease to amaze her?

"Monsieur DuLange," Meg continued, leading Erik momentarily from Christine. "Please allow me to introduce my mother."

Before he could escape, Meg tapped her mother on the shoulder, pulling the older woman's attention away from several guests who had been chatting with her about the newest ballet steps.

When Madame Giry turned around, her face fell into a mask of immediate recognition of Erik.

She went white as a ghost, but managed to remain silent as Meg twitted away an introduction.

"Mother, this is Sir Erik DuLange, Christine's escort for the evening and England's finest composer," Meg said, beaming.

Christine watched with apprehension as Erik took Madame Giry's hand much like he had Meg's and kissed it lightly. "Madame," he said softly, trying to read the older woman's expression.

Madame Giry swallowed hard. "A pleasure," she managed to squeak.

As soon as her hand was released, she excused herself abruptly.

Meg watched her mother weave through the crowd. "My apologies," Meg said to Erik, obviously mortified by her mother's bizarre behavior. "Please excuse me while I see what the matter is."

She bobbed another polite curtsey and then was gone in a flash of pink silk, following her mother's hasty exit.

Erik inhaled deeply, looking down at Christine.

"I know you are familiar with her," Christine said softly.

Erik nodded. "I assumed she would have already spoken to you about me."

Christine sighed. "Let us not worry about her," she said. "This evening is special to me."

Erik smiled. "And so we shall keep it special."

He bowed slightly, offering her his hand in an invitation of dance.

Christine placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her gracefully to the dance floor.

She was nearly oblivious to the fact that the dance floor had cleared out upon their arrival. The only thing she focused on was the intense stare of the large man who now held her tightly against his body, leading her in a seductive, dark dance that caused several older women to blush and fan themselves furiously.

Raoul watched as Christine was lead around the dance floor by the mysterious, imposing figure that was holding her too closely for Raoul's comfort.

He walked behind the observing crowd, slowly sipping his champagne. He made his way over to Meg, who, unable to find her mother, was now watching the dance, her face dreamily jealous.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Meg asked, aware of Raoul's silent, brooding presence next to her.

"Who is he," Raoul asked suddenly.

Meg turned to look at the man beside her, whose voice sounded incredibly different from it's usually carefree tone.

"I've only just met him," Meg replied, aware that Raoul was jealous.

She had originally thought that Raoul was the mysterious man who had stolen Christine's heart. But now, as she watched her best friend in the arms of this new man, she was aware that Raoul had never been the object of her affection.

"I find that hard to believe, Meg," Raoul said quietly. "You are Christine's best friend; am I to believe that you have only just met this…man…tonight for the first time?"

Meg narrowed her eyes. "I have no reason to lie to you, Monsieur."

Raoul snorted and took another sip of his champagne. "And it doesn't strike you as strange that she is here now, escorted by a complete stranger?"

Meg shrugged. "She has known him for several weeks now, Monsieur," she said, hoping to placate the obviously angry man next to her.

The information did nothing to soothe Raoul's nerves.

"I do not trust him," he said darkly.

A chill ran down Meg's spine.

There was something about her new Patron's voice…something Meg could not identify, but it frightened her none-the-less.

"Christine has wonderful judgment, Monsieur," Meg said carefully. "I am sure that she is in perfectly capable hands."

Raoul turned to look at her slowly. "That is exactly what I am afraid of, Mademoiselle."

Meg watched as the handsome man turned from her, swallowing the rest of his champagne in one dramatic gulp.

Sighing, she turned back to the dance, where Christine's head was tossed back in flushed laughter.

"You were serious when you mentioned performing tonight," Christine whispered up to Erik, her voice giggling.

Erik winked at her, spinning her quickly away and then back towards his body as the music reached it's final chords.

"Shall we give them something to truly applaud?" He asked her lowly, his voice mischievous.

Before Christine had a chance to answer, his lips came crashing down on hers.

The act was met by stunned gasps from the crowd.

A public kiss was not something encountered every day.

Raoul felt an unfamiliar spark of rage ignite in his stomach as he watched the tall, masked man passionately kiss Christine, lifting her off her feet in a dramatic, swooping gesture just as the music ended.

Everyone was so enamored with the positively glowing couple on the dance floor that no one noticed Raoul's champagne glass shatter under his subconsciously enraged grip.