The Girl Next Door

"Christine, can I have a word?" Firmin said, stopping at her desk. It was the third of January and they were back at work. Christine looked up anxiously and he smiled. "Don't panic, it's nothing worry about. In my office, fifteen minutes."

He left and Meg's head appeared over the edge of the cubicle.

"What's that about?"

"I don't know." Christine said, a little worried.

"I'm sure everything's fine." Sorelli said, her face popping over the other wall to the cubicle. Christine nodded and swallowed.

"I don't… I can't think of anything that might be wrong."

"Chris, he said 'don't panic'. I'm going to take a crazy stab-in-the-dark here and say that you shouldn't panic." Meg told her firmly.

She smiled and nodded.

"Yes. OK, I'm relaxed. I'll just finish this and then… face the music."

"Good idea." Sorelli smiled. Carlotta waltzed past and paused.

"Oh Christine, is everything alright? What did Richard want?"

"I don't know." Christine said, keeping her eyes on the screen. Carlotta put on an expression of friendly concern.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You do your best in everything and that should be enough. Well, I'd better go and see Thomas!"

She flounced away and Christine clenched a fist.

"I'm going to kill her. I am actually going to take this stapler and kill her."

"You can hide the body in the supply cupboard." Sorelli suggested brightly. Christine smiled and Meg put in,

"Or put it through the shredder!"

By the time she had finished her work and had to see Firmin, Christine had cheered up considerably. She knocked on the office door and went in. He was on the phone and signalled for her to sit.

"Yes, I understand that. It's not a problem." He said. "I'll fax through details right away. Goodbye." He put the phone down and looked across at her.

"Good lord, don't look so frightened." She smiled faintly.

"I'm fine. So… what did you want to talk to me about?"

"How long have you been working here, Christine?" Firmin asked, lacing his fingers and looking over the top of his hands at her. Christine thought about it.

"Well… two and a half years?"

"Hmm."

He was silent for a moment and then said,

"You studied graphic design at college?"

"Yes."

"I thought so." He was silent again before continuing. "Christine, I have been very impressed with your work here, especially since it's your first job. But I don't feel that I'm giving you work that matches the quality that you're capable of."

Christine said nothing, watching him and wondering frantically where he was going with this.

"I want to promote you, Christine. Scott, the head of the graphics department, is moving to London and I need someone capable to take the job. It's not a big department, only a dozen people, and there's a pay rise involved but it's a hard job. I think you can handle it though."

Christine's jaw had dropped from the word 'promote'. She shut it, blinked and opened her mouth to speak.

"Richard… are you sure that I can do this?"

"I am, otherwise I wouldn't be suggesting it." Firmin said firmly. "I can give you some time to decide if you wish-"

"No! No, I'll take it!" Christine said hurriedly. "But… I want to keep working on the Hawthorn projects. If that's OK."

"No one else could. Mr Destler informed us right near the beginning of the project that he didn't want anyone else working on it."

"He did?" Christine said in astonishment. Firmin smiled.

"He did. Now, I'll have a contract drawn up, we can go over it and have you reinstated on Monday morning."

"Thank you so much, Richard."

"You're welcome. Get back to work." He said with a fond smile.

Meg and Sorelli were waiting at her desk for news. Christine spied Carlotta hovering a little way off, taking a drink from the water machine. She smirked and Meg said,

"So… what happened?"

"What happened is that I just got promoted." Christine said, beaming. Meg and Sorelli squealed and hugged her tightly. Christine smiled and caught Carlotta's eye. She did not look impressed. Christine smiled sweetly.

"You were right, Carlotta. I did do my best and it was enough."

Carlotta gave a simpering, incredibly false smile and left. Christine smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she had been walking on air.

Stuart was working late that day, so Christine arranged to meet him at her apartment for dinner. She whistled cheerfully in the elevator and strode down the hallway, smiling to herself.

"You're in a good mood." Erik's voice floated down the corridor. Christine smiled as he came out of his apartment.

"I got promoted!"

"Congratulations." He said warmly. Christine beamed at him.

"And Firmin told me that you wanted to keep me on the Hawthorn projects. Thank you."

"You have extraordinary insight to what is required for the work." Erik said calmly. "I don't accept anything less than perfection and perfection is what you produce."

Christine glowed at the compliment as he went to the elevator. She unlocked her door and dropped her keys onto the coffee table, taking her shoes off and rubbing at her aching feet as she switched the radio on. The temptation of a cup of tea persuaded her to go into the kitchen and switch the kettle on. She had almost finished the Il Muto work, but she wanted to go back over a few details. With a steaming cup of tea in one hand, she opened the folder and spread the prints over the table, scanning them over the rim of the cup.

She made detailed notes on a notepad, pouring over each piece of art until she was certain that every inch had been examined. In fact, Christine was so absorbed that she didn't even notice how much time had passed until the buzzer startled her out of her auto-pilot. She let Stuart in and started to clear away the work on the table. When he arrived, she was still putting things back in folders.

"You really do live for your job, don't you?" He teased. Christine laughed.

"I just got so into it."

"So much so that you forgot dinner, didn't you?"

"You know me so well."

"Which is why I picked up food." Stuart said, holding up a bag that was letting out delicious wafts of food. Christine smiled.

"You're wonderful.

"So I've been told." He said, going into the kitchen to collect plates as Christine finished tidying her things away.

With relaxing music playing in the background, Christine and Stuart discussed their separate days, the biggest news being Christine's promotion.

"I don't know why you're surprised. You're fantastic at what you do." Stuart said simply, putting his plate down. Christine wiped her mouth and put hers next to it.

"That was great. I was starving."

"I don't know where you put it, you're so thin." Stuart said, poking her stomach. Christine swiped at his hand.

"Stop that!"

"Why?"

"It tickles." She said and almost instantly regretted it. Stuart grinned devilishly and pounced on her. Christine shrieked, feeling half embarrassed by their childishness and half-delighted at the waterfall of emotions that escaped her. Stuart grinned down at her and said,

"You've gone all pink."

She mock-scowled and then dug her fingers into his ribs. He gasped and his arms gave out, so he collapsed half on top of her. They lay on the sofa, recovering from the attacks until Stuart lifted his head to look at her.

All sense of childishness disappeared instantly. Christine knew from the look in his eyes that this wasn't a silly game as he lowered his mouth to hers. She responded willingly, his arms twining around her, pulling her closer and she lifted her hands to run through his hair. She knew what he wanted.

But she couldn't give it to him.

She broke the kiss and he looked at her, almost startled at the abrupt end to their activities. But he did not release his hold on her.

"Stuart, stop…" She whispered, her head bowed so her eyes were hidden behind a mane of dark curls. She could just picture the puzzled look on his face, the crease between the well-defined eyebrows, the confusion in his dark eyes.

"Christine?" He lifted her face so he could see her properly. "What's wrong?"

She pushed herself up on her elbows, forcing him to sit up. After a moment she looked at him, feeling like the worst person on earth.

"Stuart, I can't do this. Not yet. It's…" She took a breath. "Do you remember the first time we kissed?"

"Of course."

"I said that I was moving on and you said that he must have hurt me." She said slowly, trying to figure out a way of explaining it. "I… there is a lot of emotional baggage here that I haven't gotten rid off. I want to be free of it but what happened was so… so much to take that I can't forget it all at once. Oh God, I'm not explaining this well…"

"No." He took her hands. "No, its… its fine."

"Stuart-"

"It's fine." He insisted. "We can wait until you feel ready. I'm not going to push you."

"I want to but-"

"Stop talking." Stuart said insistently. "You're just making yourself feel worse."

They were silent for a moment and Stuart said,

"I should go."

"No. Please… stay. I mean, you can stay but-" She tried to explain but the words were sticking in her throat. Stuart clearly understood what she meant and seemed to internally debate it for a few minute.

"I'll stay. If you're OK with it."

"Yes. I want you to stay." She said in a voice that was firmer than she felt.

"I noticed Mr Wilkins leaving this morning." Erik said the next morning as they stood in the hallway for their usual pre-work chat. Stuart had left about an hour previously to go home and change before work. Christine winced.

"Yes… yeah."

"And you don't seem too happy about it."

"How observant you are." Christine muttered. Erik lifted an eyebrow.

"Are you going to explain your mood or should I develop my psychic powers?"

Christine smiled as she pressed the button to call the elevator to their floor.

"I… OK, for a start, nothing happened. We just slept. But… well he wanted to do more and I-"

"Didn't?"

"No, I did. But I couldn't." She said. "I'm just not over what it was that got me last time."

The doors opened and they both stepped inside. Erik pushed the ground floor button and as the doors closed he said,

"I am probably not one to be handing out advice regarding love lives but if you can't…" He hesitated before skipping to the next part. "Perhaps it's because you don't really want to."

"But I do. Why can't I just get over it?"

"Because you're not ready."

"Well, I should be." She said in a rather sulky tone. "It's been ages. I should be over it."

As they moved into the street where they separated, Erik looked at her.

"Perhaps you should simply take your time over it. There is no use in rushing into uncertainties. No good ever came of that." He considered her. "If you wish to, come to the Hawthorn after work today. We're rehearsing late and perhaps you'd like to see a little of it. If nothing else, it may improve your mood."

"Really? Can I?" Christine said, her mood already greatly improved.

"Of course."

He paused.

"How do you feel about Mr Wilkins?"

"Well, I love him. I really do." Christine said. Erik looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes, as though he were seeing something that wasn't quite clear.

"And now you have to ask yourself who you are really trying to convince when you say that. I'll see you this afternoon."

And he was gone.

Christine spent most of the day pondering Stuart and Erik's parting words. She couldn't deny that she'd woken that morning feeling extremely comfortable, Stuart's arm draped over her and his face buried in her hair. It had been nice to know that someone wanted to be that close to her.

That she could be so close to someone again.

But it wasn't close enough, she knew. It was so clear that Stuart wanted to take it further. And it wasn't that she didn't want to. She just couldn't.

She didn't want to get hurt again. It just took too much to recover from pain like that.

"Christine?"

She looked up and saw Meg looking at her worriedly over the cubicle wall.

"You OK? You've been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes."

"I'm fine." Christine said, standing to fetch a cup of coffee.

"Last day with us little people." Sorelli sighed. "She's moving to a higher plane. Going to forget all about us."

"I'm moving across the office. And I'll probably still be able to hear you if nothing else." Christine pointed out. Firmin had dropped the contract off to her that morning and she'd already signed it. "In fact, I'll go and give the contract to him now."

"And off she goes." Meg said glumly. Christine rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness. Still, it was comforting to know that they cared.

She knocked on Firmin's door and he called "Come in." She opened the door and found him sat with Carlotta, talking avidly. Carlotta cast her a disdainful look, as though they had been discussing something of the greatest importance. The cups of coffee and muffins removed any sign that they had been.

"Just delivering this." Christine said. Firmin beamed at her.

"Excellent! You can start first thing on Monday."

"Brilliant." Christine said warmly. "I'll just go and finish the Il Muto stuff. It's very nearly completed."

"Very good. Drop it in when it's done and I'll send it to the theatre."

"Thanks Richard."

Erik watched with a critical eye as the performers did the final scene of Il Muto. The music came to a triumphant finish and they all gathered to wait for his verdict. After several moments of contemplative silence he said,

"It was bearable, I suppose."

Disappointment went through the crowd and they all muttered.

"The orchestra are overbearing, the acting is wooden and the singing is only slightly less than painful." Erik said, getting to his feet, his authoritative voice ringing around the room. "I want act one again, now. And if you'd care to put a little emotion into it, please do!"

He went to the back of the room to fetch a drink. Nadir joined him.

"Aren't you being a little harsh?"

"Most certainly not. True, they weren't as bad as I just stated but if I give them praise it goes straight to their heads and they don't even try." Erik said irritably. Nadir smiled slightly.

"I underestimate you, my friend."

Nadir Khan was, in short, a good man. The world boasted many men who claimed to have that quality, but Nadir was one of the few genuine ones. Although his demeanour was generally solemn and silent, there was a gentleness to his manner that Erik admired simply for his own lack of it. Nadir was solid, kind, good and firm. A rock, Erik supposed. He didn't much care for the biblical reference, but Nadir was his rock.

As the music began again, they returned to the front of the room, sitting to watch the opera being performed. The cast seemed to be putting far more effort into it this time. It was actually very good, he knew. But he would still not let the cast know.

He stopped them halfway through a song to move a set of dancers further back on the stage and to pull the lead forward, rearranging her stance before letting them continue. Almost completely satisfied this time, he regarded them in silence before saying.

"Very well. You may leave." Taking this to mean he was happy with the work, the cast all dashed to the doors. Erik watched them go in a mixture of entertainment and despair when his eyes fell upon a figure sat in the last row of seats.

Christine Daae saw him and stood, leaving her bag and coat on the chair. She moved down the aisle and smiled at him.

"That was wonderful."

"How long were you watching for?"

"About fifteen minutes. You were busy and I didn't want to disturb you." She gestured to the stage and smiled. "The music was lovely."

"Thank you." He moved towards the stage and she followed him, helping him to collect copies of the score that had been left there. "It is coming along well."

"How long is it running for?"

"Eight weeks."

"And after that?" He paused and looked at her. She was watching him, genuinely curious.

"I have several other pieces that can be performed."

"What about that one you were writing? I saw it when I borrowed the violin bow."

It took him a moment to realise which piece she was referring to.

"That particular opera is… different." He said. Christine frowned and he tried to explain. "You are a skilled artist. Do you draw for pleasure?"

"Sometimes."

"Have you ever drawn something simply because it will kill you not to? And when it was finished you had to hide it away because you are too proud to admit that you were forced to create something that way?"

Christine stared at him. Erik sighed gently.

"No. I suppose you haven't."

"I have." She said quietly. "I didn't know that it was something that others could experience too."

"Madness is not confined to a single person."

There was a meaningful silence. And in some ways that spoke louder than any words could have done. It was broken by Nadir entering. He looked at Christine in surprise but didn't comment.

"Erik, I need to discuss something with you briefly. It won't take a moment."

"Of course. Excuse me, Christine." With a curious glance at her, Nadir left, followed by Erik. Christine continued to pick up the books, placing them neatly on the edge of the stage before looking over her shoulder, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl as she opened one of them.

She scanned the notes and lyrics, reading hungrily. There was something wonderfully satisfying about reading music, imagining how it would sound. The particular song she had opened at was called 'Poor Fool/He Makes Me Laugh.' Christine smiled as she read the lyrics before flicking random pages. They fell open on another song, a ballad of sorts. She continued to read and began to hum, reading the notes.

"Enjoying it?"

Christine gasped, jumped and dropped the book. Erik lifted an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

"You know, its good manners to warn someone that you're sneaking up on them." Christine said haughtily, trying to cover her embarrassment.

"Then surely it wouldn't be sneaking. And I wasn't sneaking anyway, I was walking."

"You were sneaking." Christine insisted. Erik lifted his eyes to the heavens, as though praying for strength.

"Fine. I was… sneaking. Shall we leave?"

As they wandered along the corridor of floor 5, Christine said,

"What day does Il Muto open?"

"The fifth of next month. Why?"

"Well, I need to get a ticket, don't I?" She smiled. "I'm not going to work this hard and then not see the thing."

"I shall have a ticket reserved. Would you prefer two?" He asked delicately. Christine paused.

"…Yes. Yes, go for two. Even if Stuart doesn't want to go, I'll find someone to come with me."

"I'll inform the office tomorrow."

"Wonderful, I'll get in some time next week to pay." Christine said, digging for her key in her bag. Erik shook his head.

"Consider them a gift."

"Erik, the company pays me to do the advertising. You don't need to-"

"They're not for that." Erik interrupted. "They are a gift from one friend to another and I believe that such a thing needs no explanation. Goodnight, Christine."

He disappeared and Christine gaped at the door before smiling as she unlocked her own door. There was something remarkably unusual about that man.

A/N: Wow, I didn't think I'd get this chapter finished today! But I just got into a writing mood and here it is. Hope you enjoyed it!

Love

Katie