Disclaimer: Still not won the lottery. So no, don't own any POTO or The Corrs.
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And If Yesterday I Heard

Janet

She was wordless, when she heard their confessions. Erik- she dared think of him as her Erik, orphaned and abused.

She had loved him from the moment he had stepped into the auditorium. The electric charge he had brought into the room, the flashing eyes and fearless manner. The incredible poise and pride, the slightly sinister mask. He had captivated her with his fencer's grace, his bold air.

The double doors to the auditorium swung open, a tall, lithe figure moving from the light-spilled antechamber to the darkened theatre. The managers had hastened to greet him, groveling, she thought distastefully, as was their wont. It had seemed to irk him as much as it pleased Carlotta. He had drawn near, she had seen the left side of his face, darkly beautiful, the shockingly blue eyes that radiated power.

He had turned to answer the query of one of the leading actors. She caught a glimpse of the white half-mask, frightening and intriguing.

He had never seen her. She worshipped him from the shadows.

She followed him, one day, heard him singing in the room he tutored the unworthy bitch-girl in. It was then- had he only known it- that she lost her soul to him.

Vowed herself to the angelic voice and the soul-wrenching music pounding from the piano. Sworn herself to the hypnotic blue eyes and predator's grace.

Her heart pounded. Somewhere inside her, something beat frantically, urging her on. She can't have him. It's not supposed to be that way, it's wrong, it's wrong. I won't let her take you from what's yours, Erik. She can't ever love you the way that I can.

I won't let this go on.

Christine

She fished in her purse for her keys.

Oh. No.

Searching frantically through her purse, she paled. And resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. Where on earth were her keys?

Finally, she had to conclude that she had lost them. Frowning, she thought of who she could call and ask for help, fiddling with her phone absently. Meg's mother had come down with bronchitis, she had enough on her hands. Carlotta... she owed the diva too much already. Her old cafe friends she was not comfortable with asking. That left only...

"Hello?"

This is so embarrassing. Christine forced cheer into her tone. "Hello, Erik, it's Christine." She paused. "I, um, locked myself out of my apartment and I seem to have misplaced my keys." She laughed ruefully. "I guess this just isn't my week."

"Do you need a place to stay?"

Christine breathed an inner sigh of relief. Bless him. She was grateful for the calm, easy way he was taking this in stride. "Yes, would I be a burden if I-"

"I'll come and pick you up."

"Thank you." she said fervently.

She would have sworn he was smiling. "It's not a problem, Christine. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Goodbye. Thank you again." She ended the call and settled down to wait.

Erik

I am either extremely lucky- or Fate has something particularly nasty up its sleeve for me. He really preferred to think it was the former.

He thought over the conversation they'd had only hours ago. It explained a great deal on her part. The strange mixture of longing and guilt she'd shown around him. Does she feel she'll be betraying him if she and I...

She had as much as told him she longed for this as much as he. Longed with that soul-deep need that shivered her at her core.

Is it... possible for her to learn to love again?

Christine

She leaned against the railing, the cold metal giving her chills, watching for his car from above. Her relief at finding a place to stay was balanced with nervous butterflies in her stomach. The thought of seeing him again, especially with the memory of their last conversation fresh in her mind, was both frightening and soothing. The thought of what she might see in his eyes, should she dare to look...

Raoul... do you think I could find peace with him? You always said that you wanted my happiness above everything else. Would you approve if I found happiness with this man? She stared out into the cloudy sunset. A wash of orange and rose ribbed the clouds, flaming against the darkening sky. It was utterly silent.

Something in her was suddenly at peace.

"Well, well, Christine. This is the last place I thought I'd find you."

Christine whirled at that all-too-familiar voice. Oh, God.

Joseph Buquet leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I thought you were-" she stepped back, felt her spine hit the railing.

He shrugged casually. "I'm out on parole. A very obliging government we have, don't you think Christine?" A malicious smile played at the corners of his mouth as he walked toward her, arrogant, assured.

Her mind was on fire, racing with all of the self-defense techniques she'd ever heard on the television, in school, from her friends. She flashed on the mace in her purse. All it would take was one quick spray, and then-

Odd. She wouldn't have even considered that before.

"So Christine," he continued. He took a step toward her, effectively blocking her in. "I think we have a few things to say to each other." She could see the anticipation in his face, his eyes caressed her face, ran up and down her body, she imagined he the bruises he planned to put there.

She sidestepped his hand, reaching out for her waist. "I think we do." She looked straight into the dark, predator's eyes. And somehow the words kept coming. "I used to let you hit me. I used to let you degrade me, dehumanize me. I thought I deserved it."

She glared into the storm's eye.

"I don't think that anymore."

Joseph raised an eyebrow with his old sardonic assurance. "No? Don't forget, Christine, you caused your fiancé's death." He smiled viciously at her shock. "Oh, yes, Christine, I know. What do you think you've said in those nightmares of yours? Good Lord, I wouldn't like to repeat it here. People might talk."

She smiled back, steely. In that moment, she was fearless. "Do you know something else, Joseph?"

He emitted a groan at her sudden, completely unexpected, move and fell to the floor. She stepped over him, turned, arms crossed.

"I've stopped deluding myself."

Erik

He turned into the lot, looked up to see Christine watching out for him from stairs.

Only- there was someone behind her. And Erik had a sneaking suspicion as to who the mysterious shadow was.

His suspicion was confirmed when the figure came into the dying light. Christine whirled, jumped back, her hands gripping the rail. Erik turned the keys in the ignition and threw open the door. Shit.

He took the stairs three at a time, then froze on the landing as Christine swept over to him. Her head was held scornfully high, eyes alight. She looked regal, seraphic, as she turned to face the man hunched over on the floor.

"Goodbye, Joseph." Her voice was level and calm. Her eyes blazed. She looked up into his eyes, smiled.

There was nothing of a child in her eyes. She took his hand and led the way down the stairs.

Christine

Erik seemed in shock. The look on his face when he had stopped on the landing. The emotion that the shining eyes, as they caught the last rays of the sun, sent to her as she walked toward him.

Relief. Pride. Awe. Christine felt drunk on the heady intoxication of freedom. The thought that she had broken the chains that had tethered her for so long tasted like champagne on her tongue, warming her veins. The thought that she would never again take the insults of a man so petty, who knew no joy but hurting others. She felt as though she would burst with the giddying euphoria of it all.

She slipped an arm around his waist, suddenly daring. He glanced down at her, surprised, and she was unable to do anything but smile at him. His eyes danced, he hugged her shoulders. "I've waited so long for you to do that."

"Do what?" she laughed. It seemed the only thing she was capable of at the moment. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling.

He brushed a stray curl from her face. "Stop running."

She basked in the glow of his warmth. "Well, there's one person I'll never stop running to."

A smile hovered in his eyes. "And who might that be?"

"Carlotta."

She laughed at the blank look of shock on his face. It took him a moment to recover, then he gave her a stern look. "You- are a minx."

"But you love me in spite of it, right?" She was ablaze with her newfound confidence, smiling wickedly at him.

He caught her hand at as the light turned red, brushed his lips against it. She shivered at the sensation. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Truly?" she touched his cheek, brushing away the long dark hair as she had always longed to do.

"Truly." He traced her brow, leaned in.

"Erik, the light's green." she said, trying to produce a sensible thought.

"Damn the light." he murmured. She raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed. "Tease."

She blew him a kiss and waited with almost indecent anticipation for the next stoplight.

Erik

This was a side of Christine he had never imagined before. This laughing, vibrant woman who glanced at him sidelong.

He quite enjoyed her expansiveness. The sight of her laughing, teasing him, even, was new and intoxicating. Even if it did drive him half-mad.

She just might be the death of me.

She knew it too, with that wicked glint in her eyes every time the traffic light flicked on yellow or red, she had something new to torment him with. And they say the old monarchs had refined torture.

Christine had it down to an art.

Finally they pulled into the parking lot. He turned off the engine, turned to her. She was looking at him expectantly, a smirk teasing the corners of her mouth. He got out of the car before he lost complete control of himself. She joined him, purse in hand. She made as though to walk past him, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

She let out a yelp of surprise as he picked her up. Her eyes danced as she settled against him. The elevator door opened and they entered the, thankfully, empty elevator.

He tapped the button, then, on impulse, kissed the flauntingly smiling mouth. The result of this was several moments of mindless euphoria that bathed him in radiance. He pulled away and she leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing hastened. "That was low." she managed, voice unsteady.

He returned her own wicked smile. "Quid pro quo, Christine."

"I am going to make your life very interesting for that." she promised. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes exuding a fiery glow. He could feel her heart racing against his own. There was an electricity where they touched.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "I look forward to it."

Well, it took 12 chapters, but Christine finally deals with her demons. That leaves... hmm. Erik. That should be interesting.

Thank you for being so patient with me. I realize I'm a little late, but look at all the EC! Can you find it in your big, warm hearts to forgive me?

cookies n' hugs

Lee