Disclaimer: Alas. Do not own POTO or The Corrs. But do own shiny POTO 2 disc DVD (happy dance)

Thanks for all of your fantastic reviews- you guys are awesome!

Myself Saying These Words

Christine

There was an odd symmetry to their movements that night. A kind of single-minded dance. The way that they wordlessly moved around in the kitchen; he chopping up the salad, her hovering over the stove. Setting out the plates, never bumping into each other, never in each other's way. He opened a bottle of wine, poured them both a measure of the liquid, gleaming like rubies and sunlight.

The hesitant glances they exchanged over their meal. The brashness was gone with the sun, replaced by something deeper, a tremulous and tender current that entwined them. She rose at the same time he did, both of them moving as one.

It was in unison that they moved to living room. He turned, smiled down at her. "Is there anything you'd like to do, Christine?"

She opened her mouth to ask if they might sing once again, together. But no- if they sang together once more, something would be set in motion. Something that neither she nor he would have the will or desire to stop.

And it would be too soon.

And there was something that needed to be done. "

Actually, Erik. I'd like to talk with you about... Raoul."

He looked suddenly wary, the relaxation drained from him. Then, with a visible effort, he lowered himself to the couch and waited.

She sat down across from him, took his hands. They were still in her grasp, almost ready to pull back. She sighed. Be careful what you say, Christine.

Christine began haltingly. "Erik, you know that Raoul was my fiancé. My first love. I will never forget him. Your first love isn't someone you get over and move beyond. I understand that. So I won't." She held on to his hand as he began to pull it from hers, to tense.

"I've come to terms with it, though. I've accepted that a part of me will always love him. And I've accepted that I can't live on that alone.'

'Not after I've found someone else."

His eyes were unreadable, blue fathomless depths. His face was eerily statuesque. "I'm not sure what you're saying, Christine."

She matched him stare for stare. God, don't let me say the wrong thing. "I'm saying, Erik, that, although I will always love Raoul, it will never be in the way I love you. I could never replace him- and I don't want to try. That would be a hollow kind of love, don't you think?" Part of her froze at those words, froze at the daring of them, but she continued recklessly on, desperate to bring a flicker of expression to that still face. "Raoul was my first love, Erik. I want you to be my last."

His face was, even now, distressingly expressionless. "Are you sure of that, Christine?"

Christine turned intent eyes on him. "You could never replace the love between Raoul and I, Erik." Her voice was calm, serious.

He jerked back, a flicker of shock going across his face.

Damn. I knew I'd say something stupid. She plunged on. "Erik, my love for Raoul was-"

"-Irreplaceable, yes." His voice was distinctly cool.

She fixed him with a look. "Will you let me finish what I was saying?"

"By all means, continue." Erik's blue eyes had assumed an icy tint.

"My love for him was the love of a girl, the love of a friend. It was compatability. He was entirely different from you, Erik. When he held me, there was only- safety. When you hold me, it's- belonging. He was caring, shied away from arguing with me. He shielded me from everything. I was dependent on him, Erik. It was not like- like you and I. You protect me, yes, but you'd never let me be anything but myself. You're not afraid I'll break without you." She felt a prickling at the back of her eyes.

"You're not afraid to let me love you as more than..." she trailed off, wishing she could find the right words. How could she tell him- tell him that Raoul would never have formed this soul-deep, searing bond between them. That he had not brung her the awakening that Erik Destler had.

How can I tell him?

She looked into the blue eyes, saw there was no need to. The ice had thawed under the blazingly blue eyes. A hesitant smile, tender in a way that made her tremble, curved the mouth that had been so tightlipped a moment ago. He reached out and embraced her; her arms went around his waist.

"I think I understand what you're saying, Christine." he whispered into her ear. His eyes were intimate, warm on hers. "I hope I am, at least."

To her embarrassment, she felt a tear gather, spill, at the corner of her eye. He kissed it away, lips lingering. Christine closed her eyes as he left a trail like fireflies in a summer sky. She buried her face against his neck. "I think you do, Erik. I think you do."

His only reply was to hold her to him more tightly. She smiled and settled against him, content.

Erik

God. He had been afraid- so afraid when he heard those words. That he couldn't replace Raoul.

He didn't want to, hadn't she understood that? He had frozen, every instinct was warning him that, despite what his logical side had been trying to tell him, Christine Daae was going to walk out of his life forever. Leaving only her voice singing songs in his head.

But she hadn't. She had told him that- she loved him.

How often had he heard that? How often since his mother died and he was left with only his music?

Never. His heart began to beat again after those words. It was all he could do not to break down in front of her. Only now, as she lay against him in sleep, did he let the tears fall at last. He had never been a religious man, not with his upbringing, not with the death of his mother, but this was somehow sacred.

Thank you. If You exist, than- thank you for this.

For her.

He would have been more than happy to sit there with her in his arms, forever.

It seemed someone else had other plans. There was a firm tap from the door.

Christine stirred slightly, half-murmering a question. He slipped from her gently, cursing whoever was calling at this time of night for being seven kinds of an idiot. He opened the door as quietly, and as irritatedly, as only he could manage.

And was completely poleaxed.

Carlotta stood on his doorstep- the last person he had expected to seek him out for conversation. He stepped outside, shut the door gently behind him. "May I ask why you are here, madam?"

"I am aware that you have spoken with Christine."

Busybody.

"Yes, we have." He raised an eyebrow.

"And your intentions toward her are honorable?" Erik resisted the urge to give her what he would have called a witty retort. She just might hurt him.

The mothering instinct did frightening things to women as far as Erik was concerned.

"I have no intention of letting Christine get hurt again, Carlotta." He put as much sincerity in it as he could, considering how irritated he was at being dragged away from Christine's side.

"I shall assume that I may skip the- what do you call it- the birds and the be-"

He cut her off. "Most definitely."

"Then I shall settle for telling you that she is delicate. Be careful. If you lose your temper around her- if you hurt her, I, along with every other female of the theatre, will see you personally emasc-"

"Your concern is touching. If misplaced." Erik snapped. The idea of garroting her was particularly appealing. "I will not let Christine be hurt again, especially by me. Did you think that I would harm her?" he asked fiercely.

She raised heavy brows at him, unintimidated. "Vell. Meeracles do 'appen. I vish you both 'appiness."

Her accent had thickened. Erik suspected she did that just to annoy him, now that she was no longer so concerned with the situation at hand.

He paused a moment. "Carlotta?"

She put her hands on her hips, expecting some sort of argument now that the real discussion was over.

"Thank you- for watching over Christine in the theatre."

A flicker of surprise went over her face. Erik couldn't blame her. The last time he had exchanged a pleasantry with anyone to her knowledge was the last time she had sung well to his knowledge.

She recovered, looking imperious. "You're velcome. I shall continue to do zat."

Erik winced as she stepped away. Why must she use that- accent with him? Didn't she know how it made him cringe?

Probably. Although, at the moment, he was willing to forgive her for it.

Carlotta

She hadn't been sure what she would find when she went over there. She knew that Erik Destler was a decent man, if a bit unfathomable and cool at times. But would he be suitable for Christine? She was warm and young, his opposite in many ways. She loved him- was it enough if he loved her back? Or would she be hurt again- at his hands?

Somehow, she didn't think she needed to worry about Christine coming to any harm by Erik. Something in the way she had seen Christine through the door, curled catlike on the couch, smiling in her sleep. Something in the way he had closed the door ever so gently, his voice pitched not to wake her.

Somehow, she thought, they would manage.

Janet

Damn!

She slammed her fist against the wall. All of the time it had taken to find the bitch's address, to take her keys, and she wasn't there!

Why didn't she have a spare, damn her? Christine would have been the type to have a spare. Janet knew the breed. Insecure.

Weak.

She stood scowling in the apartment. Than she locked the door behind her, and went to work. The bitch may not have been there, but everything Janet needed to know about her was. Janet strode into her room, opening and closing drawers, checking the shelves in the closet. Her questing hands found a photo album in a neglected corner. Oddly enough, there was no dust on it. Apparently she looked at this quite often.

Janet opened it up. A laughing-eyed man smiled up at her, his arm around the bitch. He was handsome enough, in a pale, effeminate way. Blond, boyish, an easygoing air about him.

Nothing like Erik.

And behind the photos- Janet caught her breath, amazed at her luck- well worn paper, smoothed by constant readings.

Love letters. Between her and this- Janet guessed his name was Raoul.

Janet sat down, let a slow smile spread across her face, and got to work.

Hmm. I forsee trouble on the horizon. And I should know. Review please, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

cookies n' hugs

Lee