Here's the chapter you've all been waiting for--the rooftop scene. Enjoy and please review!

Rooftop Rendezvous

Christine paused before the door that led to the opera house's roof, breathing hard. After mooring the boat, she had run most of the way up from the cellars. Her legs were cramping, her lungs burned, and despite her efforts, she was still late. As she opened the door, she could hear church bells tolling the half-hour.

Raoul was waiting for her, standing in the middle of the roof, gazing out at the Paris night. The moon was full and brilliant, the lights of the city matching the shine of the stars above. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned around, his face lighting up. "Christine! Darling! I've been so worried!" He bounded toward her, throwing his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug she did not return. He did not seem to notice. When he went to kiss her, Christine turned her head, letting his lips land on her cheek.

He stepped back, holding her at arm's length. "Christine, what's wrong?"

She looked into his anxious blue eyes and was relieved to feel no sudden surge of longing. That had been her biggest fear, that some remnant of whatever emotion she had felt for Raoul would resurface when she was face to face with him again, leaving her in an internal tug of war between the two men. But her heart beat only for her Angel.

Shrugging out of Raoul's grasp, she said, "I asked you to meet me tonight because I have something important to tell you. I'm sorry I put you off for so long, but I didn't know how to explain it to myself, let alone you." She reached into the pocket of her skirt and withdrew the ring he had given her, the one her Angel had torn from her neck at the Bal Masqué. Taking his hand, she placed the ring on his palm.

"Christine, what is this? Where did you get this? Didn't that–the Phantom take it from you?"

Nodding, she replied, "He gave it back to me before he died. He–" Christine felt tears welling up in her eyes unbidden at the memory of her Angel lying injured in the snow. "I can't marry you, Raoul."

Raoul's gaze shifted to her from his examination of the ring. "What? What do you mean you can't marry me? There's nothing standing in our way now. The Phantom is dead."

Christine put a hand to her mouth, her tears spilling over. Raoul moved to comfort her, and she backed away from him. "I don't expect you to understand–" she started, but he cut her off.

"I'm sorry for what happened, but I did what I had to do. He was a murderer, a terrorist. He never would have left us alone; he would have haunted us for the rest of our lives. I did it for you, Christine, I was protecting you!" Reaching out, he laid his hands on her shoulders. "I love you."

Realizing that tears were not going to sway him, Christine wiped her eyes then pointedly removed his hands from where they rested. "You deserve a wife who will love you completely, with her whole heart. I am not that woman. My heart belongs to another."

For a moment, she thought he was honestly going to ask to whom. "To a dead man? Christine, I don't understand. I'm here. I'm real. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Is that so terrible a thing?"

"No, it's a very beautiful and honorable thing, if I were some other woman. Please, Raoul, just say you'll honor my wishes." She did not want to hurt him more than she already had.

"No, I will not. I deserve an explanation. You told me you loved me, you accepted my proposal when that creature was alive. Why is it that things are different now that he is gone? Or is he truly dead?"

Christine felt her heart stop. Did he really suspect her Angel lived? Or was he simply baiting her? She closed her eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath, finding the emotional truth she needed to be convincing. She opened her eyes, but kept them downcast, whispering, "When you left us at the cemetery, Raoul, he was already dying. So much blood, on my hands, my clothes. Did you know that if you spill blood in the cold it steams? I tried and tried, but I couldn't stop it. And he…and he…he was happy. Not to be dying but because the last thing on earth he would see would be my face."

The tears started again, and she let them fall, tilting her head so that she caught a glimpse of Raoul's uneasy expression. "My Angel told me he loved me. That was all he ever wanted, just to love me, and to know that I thought kindly of him. I looked into his eyes then, Raoul. I looked into his eyes and I saw the other half of my soul looking back at me. All the empty spaces inside of me were filled in that moment, and I knew such joy, such incredible love–when he died in my arms, my heart, my soul went with him and I am once again empty. Only now it's unbearable, because I know what it was like to be whole." Wrapping her arms about her torso, Christine let out a genuine sob, the fear of losing her Angel all too real.

"Christine…Christine, please let me help you. I love you. I can fill that empty place in your heart, if you'll only let me. Don't leave me. Please, marry me and I know you'll come to love me as I love you," Raoul begged, holding his hands out to her.

Christine ignored them, moving away from Raoul to stand at the edge of the roof. She looked to her left, toward the statue of Pegasus. Moonlight glittered from a splash of white in the midst of shadows. She turned around, walking back towards the steps to the door, leading Raoul away from the statues. Halfway to the stairs, she stopped and said, "You would come to hate me, Raoul. You would spend years living with a wife who pines for someone else, who calls out another man's name in the heat of passion, when she allows you in her bed at all. Your love isn't strong enough to overcome that. No one's is."

Grasping her by the shoulder, Raoul whirled her around to face him. "It is! I am strong enough, Christine! I can make you forget all about your Angel of Music."

She barely managed to restrain herself from slapping him. She could not hold onto her tongue. "I will never forget, never!" she hissed. "I will remember until my dying day that you were the man who took my Angel from me! If I were to marry you, it would be only to make your life a living hell, to crush you under the weight of my vengeance every second of every minute of every day! Tell me you want that for the rest of your life! Tell me, and I will give it to you!" she screamed, her fingers curled into claws inches from his neck.

Even Raoul's courage left him in the face of her wrath. "You are mad, Christine! He has driven you mad."

She laughed, a deep, dangerous growl that came from some forbidden place inside her. "Perhaps I am." She raked her fingers through her hair, sending her curls flying everywhere. "What would your family think to see me now? Is the lunatic opera singer a better match for you than the sane one? Because I know how much they loved the sane one," she quipped sarcastically.

He stared at her for the span of several heartbeats then said, "I think perhaps you are right, Christine. Perhaps it's best if we do not marry."

She nodded her head. "I concur. Goodbye, Raoul."

Swallowing, he looked like he was about to say something else, but he simply shook his head, turned and left the roof.

As the door closed behind him, the relief hit Christine like a physical blow. It was all she could do to remain standing, gulping in great lungfuls of air. She felt her Angel's arms go around her, and she leaned back against him, soaking up his strength, his love. It was over. It was finally over.

Turning around in his embrace, she looked up into his eyes, seeing the shine of tears. Smiling, she brushed her hand across his cheek. "Yes," she told him. "My answer is yes."

Never had a word sounded so sweetly in his ears as Christine's "Yes." The Phantom raised his arms to the sky and cried out in jubilation. "Yes! Do you hear that world? Christine said yes!" Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her off her feet and spun them both around wildly until at last Christine made him stop.

"You're making me dizzy, Angel, and I will be very cross if injure yourself again," she laughed, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He set her down carefully, breathing hard, his side aching but at the moment he didn't care. She tilted her face up toward him and he needed no other hint to brush his lips against hers. Not satisfied with that, Christine grabbed hold of the collar of his cloak, crushing her mouth to his and kissing him with a raw passion that set his whole body to singing like a struck tuning fork.

She was the first to step back, surprise at her own boldness apparent in her eyes. Slowly he reached out to stroke her cheek, the heat of her skin matching the fire burning inside him. "I think perhaps we should consider getting married sooner rather than later," he said with a smile.

Nodding, she slid her arms about his waist and leaned her head against his chest. He held her to him, resting his cheek against her hair, letting the night wind cool them. "You were amazing, Christine," he said finally. "I have never seen you give a more brilliant performance, especially when he wondered if I still lived. And I honestly thought you would rip out his throat there at the end. Where did that come from?"

Laughing, she replied, "Like a tiny fragile flower is gently nourished by the sun, your love somehow empowers me to do things I have never done. To break through all these chains, all of my doubts and uncertainties, when your weakest hour falls around you, you can find your strength in me."

Clasping her hands in his own, his heart and voice rose in harmony with hers. "My love is stronger than your pain, stronger than your fears, sweet enough to wash the salt from your tears. Deeper than the waves that break against your heart, when you can't go on any longer, my love is stronger."

The last note still ringing around them, the Phantom kissed her once more then led Christine through the hidden door to the roof and back down to the cellars.

Raoul left the opera house roof shaken to his core. He had failed Christine. He hadn't been able to break that miserable creature's hold on her while it lived, and now even in death the Phantom's memory was driving Christine insane.

He stopped halfway down the spiral staircase and sat on the steps, leaning his head against the bars of the railing. "Oh, Christine, I'm so sorry, so sorry." Part of him wanted to run back up to the roof and swear to her he would keep trying to save her, no matter how long it took. The rest of him realized sadly that there probably was no help for Christine. There had been truth amidst the poison of her final words to him. No matter how much he loved her, her hatred would crush his love until his heart was as bitter and hardened as hers was.

Opening his hand, he stared at the diamond ring that sat on his palm. He should have known their love was doomed from the moment she chose to wear it around her neck in secret rather than proudly on her finger. Why had he been so blind? He should have taken her from the opera house the instant the Phantom had returned, the second he had known the Phantom was a living, breathing being, rather than a figment of Christine's imagination. In his hesitation to act, he had now lost Christine to a ghost.

Wiping at the wetness on his cheeks, Raoul started to get to his feet when he heard Christine's voice raised in song. He closed his eyes, letting the sweet, pure notes wash over him. He couldn't make out the words, but it didn't matter. The sound was as wonderful as the first time he had heard it.

Another voice joined hers, a man's voice! Deep and full of emotion, it blended perfectly with Christine's, the beauty of their combined harmony making him shiver and raising the hair on the back of his neck.

"…My love is stronger…." The final note echoed down the stairwell, and Raoul realized he had been standing there mesmerized when he should have been racing up the stairs.

By the time he threw open the door to the roof, Christine was gone, and the hard-packed snow showed no footprints. Raoul stood there shaking his head, wondering if he had imagined the man's voice. It wasn't until he had returned to the interior of the opera house and was walking down the hallway outside the dressing rooms that he remembered where he had heard the voice before.

It had been the night of the gala, the night he had been reunited with Christine. The same strong, powerful baritone had been coming from behind the locked door of Christine's dressing room.