The Girl Next Door

Jammes watched Christine closely as she critically examined the design for Hannibal. Christine rubbed her chin and then looked at Jammes.

"I am seriously impressed, Jammes. This is top-quality work." She said earnestly. Jammes' face relaxed into a grin.

"Really?"

"Really. This is amazing, comparing it to what you were doing just weeks ago. I'm going to show this to Firmin and see if we can get it onto the programmes."

"Thanks so much, Christine, that's brilliant!" Jammes said excitedly, near skipping away. Christine watched her go with a smile and picked up Jammes' work up. She left her office and started the walk to Firmin's. After knocking, she looked in. He was sat with Carlotta and a man that Christine didn't recognise.

"Ah, Christine, come in!" Firmin said, looking rather pleased. "This is Mr Guidacelli, Carlotta's father. Mr Guidacelli, Christine is one of our best employees and organises all of the work for the Hawthorn Theatre projects. As you know, they take up a large percentage of our clientele.

Mr Guidacelli was a strongly built man with thick silver hair and it was clear to see where Carlotta got her strong looks from. He shook Christine's hand and Firmin asked,

"What can I do for you, Christine?"

"It's not urgent, if you're busy…"

"No, no, Mr Guidacelli is just interested in seeing what it is that Carlotta's been doing and how we work here."

"Well, I've got one of Jammes' designs here and I think it should go in the programme." Christine said, handing it to him. Carlotta lifted an eyebrow.

"Jammes? She's never worked on the Hawthorn's before; surely she can't have produced something good enough to go on the programme."

"The work speaks for itself." Christine said firmly. "If you compare that to her earlier pieces, you can see how well she's done. That's good quality designing for someone of her experience. If we get her involved now, she can pick up more tips and techniques and she could be capable of producing full pieces within a few months if she carries on at this rate."

Firmin considered the piece.

"I'll put it in with the designs I'm sending to the Hawthorn today, Christine, but I think Carlotta's right. Jammes hasn't got enough experience." He said, clearly not wanting to show Carlotta up in front of her father and their benefactor.

"With all respect, Richard, experience shouldn't matter. I've only been here for two, three years and I'm heading a department." Christine said, sensing that she was losing the battle. "That piece is good enough for the Hawthorn programmes."

They all watched Firmin, waiting for a verdict. He took a few moments of deliberation before putting the design down.

"It can go with the designs. We'll let the theatre decide." He said firmly. Christine clenched her jaw but nodded, said her thanks, and walked out before she said anything that she'd regret. Once outside the office she threw a killer glare at the door.

"For God's sake!"

"What's up, Chrissie?" Sorelli asked.

"Bloody Carlotta Guidacelli, that's what!" Christine said, following her to the coffee machine.

"What's she done now?" Meg said, joining them.

"I wanted to put one of Jammes' designs on the programme but Carlotta said it wasn't a good idea. And since Daddy Dearest is in there with them, Firmin instantly agreed with her! I am sick of her; she doesn't do anything constructive around here!" Christine ranted. "All she does is get in the way!"

"But her father does provide us with our equipment." Sorelli pointed out. "We can't lose him as a backer, the company could go under."

"It'll go under anyway, if he refuses to put our best work out!" Christine retorted angrily. "Oh, I can't do this. I'm going to do some work."

When Christine got back to Gaston Place, her mood had not improved any further. She stormed up the steps without saying hello to Cat, who followed her in regardless. Erik was by the post boxes, leafing through his mail. He glanced up as she entered, sensing her unhappy disposition.

"Good afternoon."

"It is now I'm out of that bloody office." She growled, marching over to the boxes. She pulled out her letters and glanced through them. Bill, bill, advertising, letter from her solicitor, advertising.

"Christine?"

"What?" She looked up at him. He was watching her closely.

"What happened?"

"Carlotta Guida-bloody-celli."

"You seem to be using an excessive amount of profanities today." He said pointedly. "And you haven't said hello."

Christine put down her post and smiled tiredly.

"Hi. How was your day?" She said, kissing him.

"Fine. Now stop swearing, calm down and come upstairs and tell me exactly what it is that has offended you so greatly." He said authoritatively. Christine nodded and he took her hand, twining his long fingers around her palm as he led her to the elevator. Cat was patiently waiting for him by the doors. He seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that whether he liked it or not, Erik and Christine were going to spend time together and he would have to share her.

They went to Christine's apartment, which was how they had settled into a routine for their evenings. If neither of them had pressing work matters to deal with, they had tea or coffee in Christine's apartment whilst they discussed the day's work. Then they usually did some music and they took it in turns to cook dinner, eating in Erik's apartment and spending the evenings there.

"Tea or coffee?" Christine asked, flicking the kettle on.

"Tea, please. And I'll cook tonight."

"But it's my turn." She said, dropping teabags into the pot. Erik took a deep breath.

"We will be having company for dinner tonight."

"Who?"

"Nadir. I told him this morning that we are seeing each other and he's taken it upon himself to act as my overprotective parents and inspect you."

"But he already knows me." Christine said, looking at him with a frown. "We spent lots of time working together on the Heaven and Hell concert."

"I know. But he's gotten the idea into his head and even some choice threats would not remove it." Erik commented dryly. Christine smiled.

"Well, I like Nadir so that's OK. But he must be seriously bored to do this."

"He is. What did Carlotta do this time?"

Christine related the incident to him and he lifted an eyebrow.

"You do realise that you could just ask me to make sure that I choose Jammes' piece."

"But only if you like it, Erik." She warned. "I don't want you picking it just because I asked you to."

"If it's as good as you believe, I should think that we'd choose it anyway." Erik pointed out and Christine couldn't disagree with that. She set the tea brewing and poured some milk into Cat's saucer.

"I had a phone call from Monsieur Karon today. The date of the opening night of Il Muto has been set for June 1st." Erik said.

"Oh, right. That's only three weeks off. Is it as good as the one here?"

"There are a few differences, but it was doing well when I left. I am planning on going to Paris for the opening." He said casually, watching her. "And I was wondering if you would care to accompany me there."

Christine looked over at him, considering him for a moment.

"Yes, that'd be lovely." She smiled. Erik felt a smile curve his own mouth and let it. After all, that was certainly something smile about.

"I've never been to Paris. I went to France when I was at school and we had a few family holidays there, but we never visited the capital." Christine said, spooning sugar into her cup and getting milk from the refrigerator. "Nadir said that you have an apartment there."

"I do, yes."

"Wow. That must be wonderful, to be able to get away so easily and be able to just go and live in another country whenever you wanted to." Christine commented wistfully.

"I remember thinking when I was in Paris how much you would love the opera house." Erik commented abstractedly. "I wrote about it."

"Wrote about it?" Christine said, pouring tea into their cups. Erik hadn't actually mentioned the letters that were now tucked away in his desk.

"Yes. When I was away, I wrote you a letter almost everyday." He said. Christine looked at him.

"I never got any letters."

"I didn't send them."

"Oh…" She paused. "Can I see them?"

"I'd rather you didn't." He said honestly. "It would all seem a little foolish now."

Christine left it at that. It was easier than trying to force it out of him. She knew how stubborn he could be about these things.

Nadir arrived promptly at seven, as Erik was dishing up bowlfuls of hot chilli with brown rice and fresh, steaming bread. Christine answered the door to his apartment and smiled.

"Hello Nadir. Come on in."

"Thank you, Christine." He said, pulling off his coat. Christine hung it up for him.

"Dinner is just ready. Erik, Nadir's here." She called into the kitchen. Erik emerged and Nadir said,

"That smells very good."

"We were just waiting for you."

They sat on chairs around the island surface in the centre of Erik's kitchen. Christine had a table in hers, but Erik had preferred the extra surface. With wine poured and food served, they were silent for a few moments as they tucked into the delicious cuisine before conversation started on the topic of Hannibal.

"Have you started rehearsals?" Christine asked.

"Oh, yes. Well, running through the score, casting and so on. It'll be quite some time before we begin full stage rehearsals." Nadir said. "Have you started designs?"

"They'll be sent through tomorrow." Christine confirmed.

They had an avid discussion on the best points of Il Muto and the Heaven and Hell concert.

"But what about after Hannibal? You haven't got an infinite backlog of operas to throw in, Erik. You may actually have to write something." Nadir said, with a peaked eyebrow. Erik settled back in his stool.

"You just carry on with your part. You manage, I write."

"How can I be a manager if there's nothing to manage in the first place?" Nadir shot back.

"What about that one that you haven't finished yet?" Christine asked.

Erik's hand tensed around the wineglass as Nadir chuckled softly.

"Ah, I suppose you are referring to the elusive Don Juan Triumphant? That masterpiece has long escaped my clutches, and it is not yet even finished, Christine." He said. "But if you can convince Erik to allow me a glimpse of it, I should be eternally indebted to you."

"Why are you so secretive about that one?" Christine asked, looking at Erik. He had tightened his mouth into a strict line.

"That opera is incredibly different from my other ones. It is not crowd-pleasing and in its inevitable failure I would find it impossible to recreate music. Don Juan shall not triumph at the Hawthorn Theatre."

"After this run of successes, you could produce anything and the public would love it." Nadir said.

"Which is precisely why I refuse to put it on." Erik said sharply.

This seemed to be the signal for a change in conversation so Nadir chose to comment on the quality of the cooking in order to cover the inevitable awkward silence.

They had nearly finished eating when Christine's mobile phone rang. She tugged it out of her pocket, wiping her mouth.

"Hello?"

"He's going out with Maria!" A voice wailed. Christine blinked.

"Sorelli? Calm down, what's wrong?"

"Steven! He's going out with Maria from publications!" Sorelli sobbed. Christine pushed her chair back from the table, going into the living room whilst Nadir and Erik cleared the dishes away.

"I just saw Tina, who heard it from Mark, who works with Steven in communications!"

"Sorelli, he's a loser, remember?"

"But how could he do this to me? To us?" Sorelli snivelled. "Christine, can I come over? I really need to see a friendly face. I tried Meg cos I knew you had plans with Erik but she's out with Matt and…"

"Of course, come straight over." Christine insisted. "I'll see you soon, OK?"

She hung up, turned and saw Erik watching her.

"I invited her over."

"So I heard. Is she alright?"

"Not really. The guy who got her pregnant is going out with someone else from work." Christine said slowly. "I think she really loved him. But now he's gone and done this to her… Is it OK for her to come?"

"Of course. I'll put the kettle on."

Nadir came into the living room, passing Erik in the doorway.

"Is everything alright?"

"Sorelli's having dramas." Christine said. "She needs to be with someone right now so she's coming over."

"Sorelli…" Nadir strained his mind. "Blonde woman, quite tall, dark eyes? The one who's having a baby?"

"That's her." Christine nodded.

Ten minutes later, Christine heard her buzzer go and answered it. She and Erik rarely bothered to close their doors now, since they were the only people on the floor. She let Sorelli up and waited in the corridor for her. Sorelli stepped out of the elevator, eyes red and cheeks stained from sobbing. Christine pulled her into a hug.

"Oh, Sorelli…"

She guided her into Erik's apartment and sat her down on the sofa as she burst into tears again.

"Christine, I want him back! Why doesn't he want me?"

"Because he is a bastard, Sorelli, that's why." Christine said firmly. "He is scum and he doesn't deserve someone as wonderful as you."

"But… but our baby…"

"Is going to have such a wonderful mum that he or she won't even care that Steven isn't around." Christine said, sitting beside her. Sorelli put her head on Christine's shoulder, crying with soft sobs. Christine held her gently for several minutes until the sniffling stopped. Nadir came in with a box of tissues and Sorelli took one.

"I know he's not worth it but…"

"Sweetie, you're emotionally fragile right now and the excess hormones probably aren't helping. You just need to get perspective. There are so many great guys out there who are going to love you for who you are. You don't need one like him." Christine said comfortingly.

Erik came into the living room, carrying a cup of tea. He gave it to Sorelli, who thanked him and then said,

"I'm sorry, you were all having dinner and I just interrupted-"

"Nonsense." Erik said calmly. "We were hardly busy. Especially if someone is in need of aid."

"See? Why can't I have a guy like that?" Sorelli mumbled. Christine patted her back.

"Because I got there first. Feeling better?"

"Not really." She said, sipping at the hot tea. Erik looked at Christine.

"Did I ever meet this man?"

"I don't think so. No, you wouldn't have. He didn't come to any of the meetings." Christine said, considering. Sorelli sniffed.

"Consider yourself lucky, Mr Destler."

"I couldn't possibly comment, not having met him." Erik said dryly. Christine smiled slightly and wiped Sorelli's cheeks with a tissue.

"Tell you what, Meg and I are taking you out tomorrow night. We'll go to Club Garnier and have a proper night out, OK?"

"OK." Sorelli said. She blew her nose noisily and dropped the tissue into the bin, before wiping smudged mascara from her cheeks. "God, I must look a mess."

"Use the bathroom, if you wish." Erik offered, gesturing to the door.

Christine scratched her head as Sorelli disappeared.

"Sorry about this. But I can't just leave her alone-"

"Don't worry. It's clear that she needs to be in good company." Nadir said kindly. "And you are obviously the best available."

"I just copy what Meg does. Besides, the first rule of comforting a heartbroken friend is to assure her that the man involved is a complete and utter bastard." Christine shrugged.

She bent down to pick up Cat, who wandered across from her own apartment. He seemed to take it for granted that since Christine was here, he could be too. Luckily Erik didn't mind. She stroked Cat's soft fur and Nadir looked at him.

"I wasn't aware that you had a pet, Christine."

"I found him. Or he found me. Either way, he sticks around and I enjoy his company." Christine smiled. "It's nice to have someone waiting for you to come home."

"Am I insufficient to such a task?" Erik said, sounding rather putout. Nadir struggled to hide a smirk as Christine replied with a sideways glance at him.

"Certainly not. But cats don't answer back." She commented dryly.

Nadir insisted on escorting Sorelli home a few hours later. She was certainly in no condition to look after herself, so they left Erik and Christine sat on Erik's sofa.

"That was an exhausting evening." Christine muttered, leaning into Erik. He was sat with his legs on the sofa and she was laying between them, with her back against Erik's chest, his arms about her middle and his face resting against her hair.

"I couldn't possible disagree." He murmured. "Because if I did, you'd probably say I was just 'answering back'."

"Oh, don't be so petty." Christine smiled, wriggling to poke him in the ribs. But he held onto her too tightly and she soon gave up. She found that since they had been together, she delighted in little things like this. Just being in his company and knowing that he wanted her there was a wonderful sensation.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself, just for a moment, to be enveloped in him. The exact way that his arms were around her, the precise way that his cheek rested against her head, the way that he smelt of… what was that? A sort of mixture of spice, but less palpable, as though it were mixed with age and wood and books and music.

"Are you alright?" He murmured.

"Hmm." She confirmed. "A bit sleepy. Thank God it's Friday tomorrow. I love having the prospect of a free weekend."

"You realise, of course, that I plan to take over your whole weekend." Erik commented.

"I don't have any complaints about that." She was silent for a moment. "Tomorrow it'll have been a week since you got back from France."

"I know."

"It seems so much longer than that." Christine remarked.

"It has been an eventful week." Erik said. "There have been a lot of things to stretch the period."

"Tell me about it." She muttered darkly, remembering her unexpected visitor of Monday.

The clock struck midnight and Christine sat up.

"I'd better go and get some sleep." She said, rather reluctant to leave Erik's warm embrace.

"You could sleep here." Erik said quietly. She looked at him quickly.

"Erik-"

"I said… you could sleep here." He repeated slowly. "I know that sleeping is all that you had in mind."

Christine considered it for a moment. And then stopped. Why consider it at all?

"I'll just go and clean up. I'll be back in a few minutes." She said. She crossed to her apartment, Cat at her heels. Christine quickly removed her make-up and brushed her hair before finding a set of pyjamas. A camisole and a pair of soft, drawstring pants, slightly too big for her. Cat watched curiously as she brushed her teeth.

"You'd better stay here, Cat." She said, patting his head. Cat gave her a scornful look and lay on her bed, stretching across the pillows.

She went nervously back to Erik's apartment. She heard him moving about in the bedroom and knocked lightly on the door before opening it. He was drawing thick red curtains across the windows, blocking out the garish light of the streetlamps. He was wearing only sleeping trousers and Christine paused to look once again at the scars on his back. She could clearly see now how they lay in threes. He turned and saw her.

For a moment they both stood uncertainly, neither of them sure of how to react next. Christine was the first to move. She went to him and pulled off his mask. His hand automatically lurched up to his face, but Christine caught it and pulled him over to the bed, putting the mask onto the bedside table.

"It can't be comfortable to sleep in." She said firmly, wriggling beneath the covers, a lot more daring than she actually felt. Erik hesitatingly slipped under the duvet.

Without even seeming to realise that they were doing it, Christine curled onto her side so her back was to Erik, so that he could mould himself to fit her shape. One of his rested lightly on her hip and his lips brushed against the back of her neck before he turned the light out.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I haven't wanted to update until I'd worked out a vague idea of what was going to happen in the next arc of the story. So this chapter is very much filler, although I enjoyed writing Christine and Erik in that awkward beginning-of-the-relationship stage, where neither of them is entirely sure of what to do. It's quite sweet really.

OK, a couple of people have asked if I'll be writing a smutty scene. The answer – very probably not. I just don't think that I could write something like that convincingly. I'm not comfortable with writing stuff like that. Although I AM going to try and go a littler further than I have in previous stories. Just to see if I can do that. But there will be no full on schmex. There are plenty of stories out there with that. Go find 'em.

Love

Katie

Oh, I forgot – you guys are AWESOME. I'm now on over 500 favourite lists. 500! And the number of reviews for this story are ridiculous! (Not that I am complaining in any way, shape or form!)