The Girl Next Door

The apartment in Paris was a generously sized affair, a little smaller than their apartments in England, but still large enough to pronounce Erik's garnered wealth. Large bay windows led onto a small balcony overlooking the bustling city.

"No romantic view of the Eiffel Tower, I'm afraid. That would be in the opposite direction, but still in an impressive sight, don't you think?" Erik commented as Christine went to admire the view. She smiled.

"Very impressive."

"We can go and see the Tower this evening, once it gets dark. One should only ever witness the Eiffel Tower by night." Erik said firmly.

"I'll go and put my things away." Christine said. Erik followed her into the bedroom to show her where everything was. When he reached her, she was holding a small, framed photograph and examining it closely, her brows contracted into a vague frown.

Erik's chest tightened as he saw her looking at it. She looked up.

"Is this Anna?"

"Yes." He said after a moment.

"She's beautiful." Christine said softly, admiring the woman in the picture. How cruel, that such beauty had been ripped from the world. Erik didn't reply. He seemed almost nervous. Christine quickly put the picture down.

"I'm sorry, I was just… I'm sorry."

"No."

He picked up the picture, turned to a chest of drawers and placed it in one of the drawers.

"I should have taken it down a long time ago. To be perfectly honest, I didn't even know it was there. You become accustomed to seeing things and then you don't see them at all." He commented. Christine watched him.

"Erik, if you want to leave it out-"

"I don't." He said shortly, effectively ending the conversation.

Once they had unpacked everything, Erik suggested they go for dinner until the sun had set. Christine readily agreed.

"I don't speak very good French." She warned him.

"I am fluent, we won't have any trouble." He promised, taking her hand. "Come. Let me show you Paris properly."

The restaurant he chose was evidently one he knew well. An understated but charming place with friendly staff and delicious food. Once Erik had helped her to understand everything on the menu, they ordered and drank wine as they waited for the food to arrive.

"Monsieur Destler!" Cried a female voice. Christine and Erik both looked around to see a young woman with white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes coming over, her youthful face lit up in a bright smile.

"Adele." Erik said, getting to his feet and kissing her hand. They instantly began to speak in quick French. Christine sat, a little bewildered, and to her surprise, a little jealous as she watched the pair interact.

After a moment Erik turned to her.

"Christine, this is Adele Latouchia. She was my assistant at the Opera House here. Adele, Christine Daae."

"Ah, Mademoiselle Daae, you are the one who was waiting, yes?" Adele asked in a pretty accent. Christine blinked.

"Waiting?"

"For Monsieur Destler to return to England. He was waiting too." She smiled. Christine looked at Erik. He seemed to be holding himself a little tensely.

"You are here for Il Muto?" Adele asked them both.

"Yes."

"Ah, it is wonderful! You will enjoy it very much. But I must be excused, my friend is waiting. It was lovely to meet you, Mademoiselle Daae." She flashed them a smile before moving to join a young man who had just entered. Christine looked at Erik.

"She seems nice."

"She's not quite so terrified. She was an absolute quivering wreck when I first started working there." Erik commented

After they had finished eating, they stepped out into the dark street again. Christine wrapped her arm around Erik's as they walked.

"Is it far to the Eiffel Tower?" She asked.

"Not too far." He pointed over the skyline of some buildings and she caught a glimpse of the illuminated structure. A smile split her face and they walked a little faster. People walked past, talking in French and laughing. Nobody noticed the couple walking down the street, despite Erik's mask. Christine loved the anonymity of the place. She could be anyone and anything here and no one would know. The disastrous meeting of that morning was a million miles away from her and she could forget all about it.

After paying a few francs, they stepped into the elevator and sped up the lit tower. Christine felt like a little child, excited and impatient. Erik watched her with a smirk as they stepped out onto the tower. She immediately rushed to the edge, staring out at the city.

"You can see everything!" She laughed. "Look, the Arc de Triomphe!"

She moved from spot to spot, darting past the few other people that were up there to point out landmarks or sights.

"Erik, it's beautiful." She said, turning back to him. He lifted an eyebrow.

"Very beautiful."

"Look at all the lights and-"

"I was not," He said, moving closer and tilting her chin, "Referring to the city."

Christine lifted her hands to put her arms around her neck as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together. One of his arms was around her waist and the other was in her hair as he kissed her powerfully.

He couldn't stop. Ever since that first kiss he had wanted to do this, had wanted to be with her like this. The only thing holding him back had been the knowledge that she was not ready. Now he knew that she was and he wouldn't, couldn't stop what would happen that night.

After several long moments they parted their mouths and looked at each other. The look in Christine's eyes, the dark intensity in her brown depths confirmed his thoughts. Without speaking a word, they walked swiftly back to the elevator.

They drove in silence back to the apartment. Erik unlocked the door and they went into the living room. Christine took off her jacket and shoes before looking at him. He was watching her closely.

For some reason, Christine felt terribly nervous. What if he didn't want to? What if she was a disappointment to him? She swallowed and licked her lips anxiously. Erik moved towards her and lifted a hand. She held herself perfectly still as his fingers ran over the scar on her cheek, tracing it before moving over her other features, her nose, the outline of her eyes, exploring her features as she had done the night that his mask had been taken away. She closed her eyes, tensing at the sensation of his fingertips against her skin.

Erik surveyed Christine as he touched her face. She hardly seemed to be breathing, looking almost as though she were a mannequin rather than a living person. He slid his hand down her arm to take her hand, lifting to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to the palm. Her eyes slid open again as she watched him.

"Christine…" He whispered her name so softly, she wasn't sure that she hadn't just imagined it. Her fingers touched his shirt and she slowly began to unbutton the fabric. He shrugged the shirt off and then bent to lift her off her feet in a sudden rush of energy. Christine gasped but didn't speak as he carried her swiftly to the bedroom.

In the dimness of the room, Erik lowered her and she instantly pulled her shirt over her head. Erik didn't pause but lowered his head to kiss her again, pulling his mouth away before the kiss could deepen. He pressed his lips to her cheek, to her neck, to her shoulder. Christine let out another quiet gasp as his teeth caught against her collarbone. Erik lifted his head and Christine took advantage of his pause to lift the mask from his face. Instinctively he tried to cover it but she pushed his hand away to kiss his mutated skin.

"Don't ever hide from me." She whispered. "I want you, not a mask."

"I don't deserve you." He said softly, closing his eyes.

"I don't deserve anything. I'm the fortunate one here." Christine murmured, kissing him. "Erik, I want you. I just want to be with you."

She spoke so sincerely. So honestly. How could such sweet words be a lie? Erik chose to believe them instead, as he moved her towards the bed.

What happened was… extraordinary. Erik lay afterwards, his mind numbed and his blood pounding as he felt Christine's skin against his own, her sleeping form curled closely to him.

How very different it had been from anyone else. How wonderfully new and different. He could not have imagined anything like this. That was the only thing that stopped him thinking that it may have been only a beautiful dream.

Slowly his mind began to clear and he felt things properly again. The now-cool sweat that lay against his face and torso, the silkiness of the sheets, the soft warmth of this angel beside him.

How kind life could be. How sweet fate could be. He was positive that he had done nothing in his life to deserve such beauty. Yet it had been granted to him nonetheless.

He brushed a stray curl from Christine's face. She twitched as the hair tickled and her eyes opened again.

"That tickles."

"Sorry." He muttered. She rubbed her face against his chest and yawned.

"Haven't you slept?"

"No."

"…Are you alright?" She asked, lifting her face to look at him. Her expression was one of anxiety and concern.

Erik smiled. He couldn't help it. He smiled and nodded, pulling her towards him.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Oh. Good." She said, relieved. "You've got a big day tomorrow."

"So I have."

"Are you excited?"

"I suppose." He said, with a shrug, still smiling. No need to admit that he would gladly miss the whole affair and stay here with Christine. He'd be glad to never even leave the apartment again. Christine smiled.

"Do you know that's the longest I've ever seen you smile for?"

"Really?"

"Mmm hmm."

"You, Christine, are the cause of that." He said, planting light kisses on her shoulder. She traced a finger over his chest.

"I'm glad to be of such service to you." She whispered. "And now I don't feel at all tired."

"What a pity. Now we shall have to find some way to pass the time." Erik said lightly. "What would you care for? Music? I have a chess set. Or perhaps you'd like to-"

She cut him off with a deep kiss.

"Stop teasing!" She told him firmly. "And that's another first."

"You bring out the best in me." He told her solemnly. She lifted an eyebrow.

"Let's see how much there is to bring out."

The Paris Opera House was a spectacular building. But Christine had no time to admire it as Erik whisked her up the front steps, his hand on her waist protectively. A medley of marble and gold met Christine's eyes as he led her into an enormous auditorium. People were milling around, talking in quick French and sipping from water bottles or stretching muscles, or testing instruments. Christine longed to stop and watch but Erik guided her towards the stage, where a gentleman with a thick beard and moustache was talking to the woman from the restaurant, Adele.

"Monsieur Destler!" He cried as he caught sight of him, moving to shake his hand warmly. His eyes fell upon Christine. "Et qui est cette belle femme?"

"Monsieur Karon, Christine Daae. Christine, this is the producer of Il Muto, Marco Karon." Erik said. Karon planted a kiss on Christine's hand.

"A pleasure, Mademoiselle. You are both joining us tonight?"

"We are, Monsieur. I merely wanted to see how things were going."

"Ah! Everything is perfect!" Karon said, beaming. "Adele has been helping me and is very good."

Adele smiled.

"You are seeing our fair city, Mademoiselle?"

"We visited the Eiffel Tower last night and we are on our way to see Notre Dame." Christine replied.

"You will adore Notre Dame." Adele assured her. Karon touched Erik's arm and spoke briefly in French. Erik looked at Christine.

"I will only be a moment."

The pair moved away and Adele smiled at Christine.

"Come and meet some of the performers."

"Can I?"

"Oui, any friend of Monsieur Destler's is welcome! Il Muto is bound to be a success." Adele said, leading her to a small group gathered beside the stage. They were gossiping together and peered interestedly at Christine.

"Marisa plays the Countess and Alexander is the Count." Adele said, gesturing to a pair, who eagerly came to meet this woman who appeared to have enchanted their masked superior. Marisa spoke to her in French and Christine looked at her, a little embarrassed as Adele explained that she spoke little of their language.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle Daae. I enquired how long you have been with Monsieur Destler." Marisa said sweetly. Christine flushed slightly, glancing back at Erik.

"Er… not long. A month."

"Such swift love!" Marisa said with a light laugh. Alexander winked at Christine before putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You must be an enchanting and engaging lady to break his ice. I have never worked with a man so solemn!" He said warmly. Christine laughed.

"Well, we have known each other for almost seven months already. We were good friends."

"Why be friends when you can be more?" Alexander smirked.

Christine flushed again and then jumped as Erik appeared at her side. His eyes went pointedly to Alexander's hand, which still lay on her shoulder. Alexander hastily removed it as Marisa engaged Erik in conversation. Christine tried to understand but gave up almost instantly. She looked up at the stage, where dancers were running through the ballet from Act three. It was a charming piece and she smiled delightedly at the talented women as they soared across the stage to music she knew so well.

"They're good, aren't they?" Erik commented.

"Amazing." Christine replied. Erik took her hand.

"We should be on our way. I don't want you to see too much."

"Erik, can you zip me up?" Christine called. Erik emerged from the bathroom to see Christine struggling with the zip on the back of her dress. He smirked.

"Why?"

"So we can go and see the opera that everyone in that opera house has worked so hard on." Christine said, eying him.

"But you look so much more engaging without the dress."

"Erik…"

His smirk widened and he stepped across to her, sliding the zip up the back of the dress. Christine shook her hair out and turned to look up at him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He said and kissed her. She laced her arms around his waist and he reached for the zip. She pulled her face back and lifted an eyebrow.

"We'll be late if you start now."

"They'll survive."

"No! Erik, you are going to that opera and you're going to enjoy it!" Inwardly she marvelled. One night together had turned him into a complete… animal.

Not to say that she didn't enjoy the fact. But it did get in the way of pressing engagements.

They drove to the opera house and Erik led her through the crowd to some stairs.

"Private box?" She asked.

"Of course." Erik replied. "Box Five, it provides the best view of the stage."

"I can't wait to see it again." Christine said excitedly. He smiled down at her.

"It hasn't been that long since you saw it, has it?"

"Several months." Christine pointed out. "Back before you came here for those months."

"Ah. I suppose it has been quite a while."

He held back a curtain and she stepped into the box. There were two seats in the balcony and they sat. Christine leant forward to admire the stage and watch the crowd pouring in.

"This is incredible!" She smiled. "How can you not be excited?"

"I hide it remarkably well." He said wryly. Christine laughed and he took her hand in his, caressing the fingers softly as the lights dimmed and the overture began.

After what can only be described as an excellent performance, Christine and Erik descended to the crowd. Monsieur Karon pushed through to greet them.

"Monsieur Destler! What a marvellous success!"

"Indeed. I was most impressed." Erik assured him. Karon turned to Christine.

"And you, Mademoiselle Daae?"

"It was amazing." Christine smiled. "I loved it!"

"Generous but deserved praise! You must join us for a drink, both of you!" Karon insisted.

Erik was not entirely happy about that. Whilst he knew it was expected of him to have a celebratory drink, the idea of being alone with Christine was extremely inviting.

"Thank you, but no. It has been a long day and we are both very tired." Erik said. Karon looked vaguely disappointed.

"I see. No matter, you will come and see us again?"

"Of course, Monsieur. Bon Nuit." Erik said, steering Christine towards the door.

"We should have stayed." She said as they climbed into the car. "You should celebrate your success!"

"There will be other opportunities to do that. I doubt we will find time again soon to have a weekend in Paris." Erik reminded her.

"That's a good point." She said airily.

Whilst she listened to the radio on the way back to the apartment, Erik pondered her. How had this happened? Once he would have stayed, greeted the critics, spoken to the performers and congratulated. But now all he could think about was her. She filled him, sweetly intoxicating his senses with her presence.

"When did it begin?" She asked as they entered the apartment.

"What?"

"You. And me. I mean, I know when. But when did you first start…?" She left the question unfinished. Erik slipped his jacket off, dropping it onto the sofa.

"I first wanted you when I saw you in the white dress."

"White dress?"

"You were going to some affair of Stuart Wilkins's." He said, looking at her. She lifted her eyebrows.

"That was ages ago!"

"That was when I wanted you." He said quietly, cupping her cheek with a hand, running his thumb over the silver scar. "I first needed you in the bar after Il Muto was performed for the very first time."

"The bar at the Hawthorn?"

"Yes. You kissed my cheek and embraced me and I needed you more than anything in my life." He said. "But I couldn't have you."

"Because of Stuart."

"He knew. I saw him watching us and I could tell from his eyes that he knew."

Christine gazed at him.

"You felt like that for so long… and you never told me."

"I did try. But you ran away screaming." He reminded her with a slight smile. She blushed.

"I didn't scream. I shouted, but I didn't scream."

"It didn't invoke much confidence on my part, whatever it was." Erik said dryly. Christine smiled.

"I just didn't expect it. I frightened me."

He lifted an eyebrow and she tried to explain.

"I think… it was because I wanted you too. I mean, I didn't realise it at the time, I really didn't. I couldn't understand it at all. But the thought of being happy was terrifying."

"Why are you so afraid to be happy?"

"Stuart asked me the same thing when I broke up with him." Christine said, looking down. "He told me I was a coward for being afraid of happiness. Because whenever I've had it before, it's always been a lie."

"He did?"

"Yes. In fact, he was the one who told me to come and find you. He asked me if I had feelings for you and I said that I didn't want to live a life that didn't have you in it."

Erik's mind was stuffy and this information was taking twice as long to process.

"You said that?"

"Yes. So I went to find you, to tell you the truth."

"And… you found Carlotta."

"Hmm. It wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting." Christine said sardonically. Erik's eyebrows lifted.

"No, I can't imagine that it was."

He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his.

"But it turned out rather well in the end, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I'd say. I'd definitely say." Christine grinned. "Now you can undo the zip."

Christine rose in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. When she returned to the bed, Erik had rolled onto his side. Christine sat on the edge of the bed and examined the scars across his back, mauve and silver streaks against the pale skin. It was a lattice of scars; they must have beaten him countless times. How much pain had he suffered before their appetites were sated?

Never. Never again, would she let him be hurt like that, Christine decided solemnly, softly tracing one of the scars with a fingertip. Never.

She lay down and pressed her cheek against his back as she held him in her arms, the reverse of how they usually slept.

Oh, Erik… isn't it time that somebody kept you safe?

They spent a luxurious Sunday morning in bed, talking quietly and sharing everything that had seemed so unimportant before but was now of the utmost significance.

"I didn't even know your name when we met in the elevator." Christine said, lying the wrong way on the bed, so she was next to Erik's feet and facing him.

"I didn't know yours either."

"I only found it out because I looked at the name on the intercom." She said idly. "That was the night I got attacked by Buqet and you saved me."

"You very much saved yourself. I merely cleaned up afterwards." Erik said, leaning against the headboard. "I was rather surprised. You'd left looking incredible and come back a mess."

"It had been a weird evening. Meg was on the pull and she dragged me along." Christine said, stretching her arms over her head. "That was the night we met Matt and Stuart."

"Hmm."

"Don't get grumpy." Christine said, digging her toes into his ribs. He caught her foot and smirked.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Besides, we know how well that worked out." Christine pointed out. "And if it hadn't been for Stuart, you never would have seen me in that dress and you'd never have liked me like this."

Her voice was teasing and Erik rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't the dress. I'd only ever seen you in jeans and t-shirts before then. It was something of a revelation. I realised that you were a woman."

"What? I rather thought that these might have given it away." Christine said, glancing down at her chest. Erik's eyebrow arched.

"Obviously I knew you were a woman. But you were suddenly… a woman."

"Are you trying to make things better? Because you're really not very good at it."

He let out an exasperated sigh and tugged her foot. She gasped, slipped a couple of inches and then laughed as Erik smirked at her.

"Erik!"

"Yes?"

"You can be very childish sometimes." She said mock-haughtily. Erik simply pulled her foot again so she fell down onto the bed, laughing. "Stop it!"

"Why?"

"Because…" She couldn't actually think of a reason. Erik tugged her foot more gently.

"Because?"

"…I don't know."

Erik chuckled quietly and glanced at the clock.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

"I know a rather good café a few streets away…"

"Would that involve getting out of bed?" Christine asked.

"I'm afraid so." He said. "On the other hand, I could make something here."

"That sounds much more appealing." Christine grinned. Erik climbed out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown. He looked down at her.

"Unfortunately I only have the one dressing gown so you'll have to wander around the apartment completely naked."

"Or I could get dressed." Christine said. Erik smiled slightly.

"If you prefer…"

She found a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms and pulled them on as Erik disappeared to the kitchen cum living room. She went into the living room and grimaced as she caught her reflection.

"Jesus, I'm a mess."

"Nonsense, you never looked lovelier." Erik commented. Christine smiled, shaking her head.

"I have never seen you in such a good mood before! It's amazing."

"You have a positive effect on my attitude." Erik said.

"But I've never seen you so open before. Teasing, and laughing…"

"If you don't like it I could be withdrawn and irritable."

"No! No, I love it like this." Christine smiled, sitting on a stool. "I love seeing you so happy."

Erik began to brew coffee. It was only as he lowered his face to look into the refrigerator for milk and felt the coolness of the machine on his skin that he realised that he wasn't wearing his mask. And that he hadn't even noticed its absence.

A/N: Fluff all over the place. But I like fluff. So there. Like it or lump it!

Updates are going to become considerably less frequent. Schoolwork is approaching disaster stage and requires complete attention from me. So I apologise for anyone long waits. I'll try and get at least one chapter up a week, but no promises. Wah. I hate that.

Well – I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I liked writing this one, it's nice to write proper interaction between Erik and Christine, especially letting Erik open up a bit more.

Oh, and I forgot to do this last chapter so I'll do it this time instead. This chapter is dedicated to Nabira! She made me a doll of Christine in her black and red dress when she goes to see Il Muto for the first time. She even put a little scar on her cheek! Love, adore and appreciate her work at

http : /i29 . photobucket . com / albums / c253 / Nabira / ChristineGND . gif

Remove the spaces and view to your hearts content!

Love

Katie