The Girl Next Door

"No! No, I said that I didn't want the programmes in blue!" Christine said angrily down the phone. Meg paused in the doorway. "Well, you'll just have to get rid of that lot! We want them in dark green. No, we are not paying for those ones! If you can't understand simple instructions then it's not our fault! I want the programmes here in a week, in dark green."

She hung up the phone and screamed quietly into her hands. Meg moved in and sat down.

"Bad morning?"

"Horrendous. The programmes are wrong, three people in my department are sick, there were fourteen messages on my phone when I got here this morning and Richard and I are having an evaluation meeting this afternoon to see how I'm coping with the new job." Christine said, typing an email and sending it as she spoke before turning to open a file on her desk. Meg whistled.

"Calm down. Just share the extra work around the department, get Jammes to do the phone calls and have a cup of tea before the meeting."

"You make it sound so easy."

"No, you just make things unnecessarily awkward." Meg commented, playing with a paperweight. Christine glanced at her.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Sure. I just wanted to know if you want to go to Club Garnier on Friday."

"I can't even think that far ahead right now."

"Well, Sorelli and I are going. Give it some thought, OK?"

Meg went to the door but Christine called,

"I'll go. Give me a time and I'll get there."

"Great." Meg smiled warmly. "We don't see enough of you, Chris."

She closed the door behind her and Christine contemplated the exit. She didn't want to become one of those people who dropped their friends in a second just because there was a man in her life. Definitely not. No, she would go out on Friday and enjoy herself with her friends. She went to the door and crossed to Jammes' cubicle. The girl was chewing a pencil as she used her computer, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Jammes, could I ask you an enormous favour?" Christine asked. Jammes smiled.

"Sure!"

"Don't get too excited. I just want you to call a few people and give them messages." Christine smiled, handing her a sheet of paper with telephone numbers, names and information.

"No problem, Christine."

It was lunch when Christine found the time to pick up the phone. She dialled a number and sat, winding the cord of the telephone around her fingers. After a couple of rings, Erik picked up, his voice still as stunning over the tinny line of the phone as it was in reality.

"It's only me, Erik."

"Christine." he sounded pleasantly surprised, much to her relief. "Is everything alright?"

"I just needed to hear a voice over the telephone that wasn't going to tell me that something else had gone wrong with the Hannibal project. Are you busy?"

"Not particularly. The staff have all gone off to lunch; I was just finishing some paperwork. I take it that your morning has been less than productive?"

Christine related the horrific escapades of her morning to him. He listened patiently, offering some pieces of advice, making understanding sounds and generally being extremely wonderful.

"Don't go back to Gaston Place after work. Come to the Hawthorn and I'll take you out to dinner in an effort to save the day from becoming a total loss." He offered. Christine smiled, leaning back in her chair.

"You are an angel."

"I very much doubt that."

"Seraphim, Cherubim, Archangel and saint, all rolled into one fantastic package." She assured him. Erik chuckled richly.

"You, my darling, are delusional. I'll see you later."

Christine put down the phone and smiled broadly at it. There was nothing like the prospect of dinner with Erik to considerably improve her mood. Meg and Sorelli came in and Christine glanced at them.

"There's such a thing as knocking, perhaps you've heard of it?"

"I think I did once. We've been waiting to talk with you but we guessed you were on the phone to Monsieur Sexiness." Meg grinned. Christine lifted an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think I was talking to Erik?"

"Because you haven't wiped that grin off your face since we came in." Sorelli said. Christine shrugged.

"Fine. Yes, we were talking. We're going out to dinner tonight."

"Cool." Meg glanced at the clock. "Well, no time to gossip, since lunch is now over. We'll have to catch up tomorrow."

"I can't wait." Christine muttered cynically.

Erik was stood by the stage, scribbling in a notebook, his face furrowed into an intensive frown as he worked. Christine slipped inside the theatre and smiled at his concentration. She moved quietly behind him and reached up to kiss the back of his neck. He swung around and she laughed. He raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"That wasn't particularly mature."

"I know. I couldn't resist." She said, winding her arms around him and laying her head against his chest as she hugged him. He returned the embrace.

"Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Hmm. Seeing you definitely helped." Christine murmured, closing her eyes and breathing in his warm scent. He kissed her hair.

"I just want to try a new piece on the piano. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Of course not."

She perched on the edge of the stage, listening as he tested the music, pausing occasionally to alter a note. She took out a notebook and began to jot down some ideas and some vague sketches for designs. Erik glanced over and swiftly changed the music to Think of Me. Christine looked up with a grin.

"Show-off."

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked as innocently as he could. Christine laughed.

"When we start singing lessons again, you are seriously going to regret letting me try to sing that."

"You won't sound any worse than Eleanor. I don't think you could, judging by today's rehearsal." He pulled a face at the recollection. "It physically wounded me."

Christine laughed again.

"You poor, tortured soul. Suffering so much for your art!"

"Don't laugh, that's absolutely correct. Do you realise exactly how much I go through trying to get these operas together? Literally, working my hands to the bone." Erik commented, continuing to play. Christine couldn't stop laughing now. She already felt so much better from just being in Erik's company. How could a being so solemn and refined wash away her frustration and stress by his mere presence?

She was about to comment on the fact when an all-too-familiar voice echoed around the room.

"I thought I recognised that laugh!" Both Erik and Christine looked to the door, where Raoul was standing, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. Christine's smile faded instantly and she released a quiet groan.

"I didn't know you were going to be here. If I'd known I would have cleaned myself up a bit." He grinned, moving into the room. Christine sighed.

"It wouldn't have helped, Raoul."

"Now, you're just saying that to hurt my feelings." He laughed, leaning on the stage beside her. She gave him an incredulous look.

"Why else would I say it?" He opened his mouth but she shook her head. "God, don't answer or we might actually have to have a conversation."

She stood and went over to the piano, where Erik was stood, watching them both with puckered brow. He looked at her quickly and she smiled.

"Shall we go?"

"Of course." Christine picked up her bag and glanced up as Nadir came in. He cast a wary glance from Erik to Raoul, but Christine smiled at him.

"See you later, Nadir. We're taking off now."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Erik. Mr de Chagny, that information is ready for you now."

"Great. See you later Chris."

"Oh, I hope not." Christine said cheerfully. Erik smirked as he put an arm around her waist, rather pleased to see that Raoul's jovial grin had vanished at the sight.

They walked out of the Hawthorn and Erik swung her around to kiss her. She smiled, rather surprised at his forwardness.

"What was that for?" She laughed. He shrugged, tracing her lower lip with his thumb.

"Because you are an extraordinary woman and I am unbelievably fortunate to have you in my life."

"Mr Destler, you can be so romantic at times." She smiled, leaning against him as they walked to the car. He held open the door as she climbed and noticed Raoul walking to his own, extremely flashy car. The two men made eye contact and Erik held it until Raoul broke away uncomfortably to climb into his car.

"We never said

Our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea…"

"Stop." The order came for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. Christine eyed Erik over the top of her music.

"Do you ever want to finish this song?"

"I want it to be perfect." Erik said simply. "And we are far from that stage at the moment."

"Thanks."

"I'm only being honest. You're hitting the wrong note in 'unchanging' every single time. And you're slouching again." Christine straightened and took a breath.

"OK. Try it again."

"We'll go through it once more and then leave it for the evening. Or…" He considered her for a moment. She looked back, waiting for an end to the sentence. Apparently there wasn't one. Erik reached for a folder and pulled out a piece of music.

"There are only two lines but I'd like to hear you sing them." He said, pointing to them. Christine read them.

"I've not seen these before."

"You won't have. They're from Don Juan Triumphant." Erik said, putting his hands on the keyboard. Before Christine had a chance to react to this startling enlightenment, he had begun to play. She followed the music and came in on the cue.

"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy… no dreams within her heart but dreams of love…"

Erik stopped playing almost instantly, her final note still ringing in the air. Christine looked at him, anxious. He was watching her with the strangest expression on his face. Neither of them spoke. And then Erik stood up and slipped the music back into the folder. Christine ventured to speak.

"Sorry if it was bad, I just-"

"It wasn't bad. It was perfect." Erik said quietly. Christine felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment and looked down as Cat wound around her legs, mewing for attention. Christine picked the creature up and watched as Erik cleared the music from her piano.

"I was planning on going out with Meg and Sorelli on Friday. Is that alright?"

"You don't need to ask my permission." He said, seemingly amused. Christine smiled.

"I know. I was just commenting. Perhaps you and Nadir could do something."

The image of Nadir and Erik sat on the sofa, watching the football came to mind and she fought back a giggle. Erik glanced at her.

"Or perhaps not. I shall keep myself entertained, thank you."

"OK." Christine sat on the sofa, stroking Cat. Erik poured her some wine.

"Go out with your friends and have fun."

"I will." Christine said firmly. "I miss hanging out with them. Everything's been so crazy lately we just haven't had a chance."

"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time. What film do you want to watch?"

To Mr Erik Destler

You are cordially invited to attend

A Masquerade Ball

To be held at the Hawthorn Theatre on June 30th to begin promptly at 8 pm.

Costumes are mandatory

Invite + guest

"Nadir, have you completely lost your mind?" Erik asked tiredly on Friday morning. Nadir held up his hands.

"Don't blame this on me. It's just an event for the patrons and bluebloods to come and show off about how fabulously wealthy they are. Eleanor and Carl have both been invited, a few off the other more important employees as well as the both of us. And you will attend, Erik."

"Why?"

"Because you are our most renowned director/composer/producer. It won't hurt for you to spend a few hours sucking up to the people who keep this place afloat."

"I was led to understand that it was the shows that kept this place afloat." Erik said, examining the invitation. Nadir glared at him.

"You're coming, Erik. And you're bringing a guest. Christine, I presume?"

"If I'm being forced into going, I may as well bring someone whose company I can actually bear." Erik muttered.

Nadir's words hit him in full and he examined the dark man's face suspiciously.

"Nadir…"

"Yes?"

"Raoul de Chagny is going to be there, isn't he?"

"…Yes."

Erik let out an angry breath and dropped the invitation.

"Erik, be reasonable-"

"You expect me to go to that mockery and watch that insignificant twit trying to woo the woman I am involved with?" Erik demanded.

"He'll be far to busy to bother you and Christine. Now stop being so ridiculous and go and do some work!" Nadir said crossly, sitting behind his desk. Erik tucked the garish invitation into the pocket of his jacket and left the office, imagining the most delightful methods of torture to execute on Raoul de Chagny.

"I think it sounds fun." Christine said brightly. Erik scowled. That had not been the reaction he was looking for.

"Fun?"

"Yes. To dress up for a night and go dancing and everything."

"I didn't neglect to mention the presence of your former husband." Erik said sharply. Christine smiled at him as she brushed her hair out, preparing for her night out with Meg and Sorelli.

"No, you didn't forget. But don't worry about it. Everyone will be wearing masks; it's not as if he'll get a chance to talk to us. I'm guessing it'll be very busy."

"I suppose…"

"Cheer up, Erik. We'll have fun, I promise. We can sort out costumes, and I'll find a mask, and we can go and show off about how wonderful you are at your job." Christine said firmly. "It'll be great."

She turned to the mirror to put on some lipstick and Erik finally distracted himself from the disastrous proposition of the masquerade ball to look at her outfit.

"Christine?"

"Yes?"

"Where exactly is the rest of that skirt?" Christine looked down at her short skirt. So it was a little shorter than what she usually wore…

"It's not that short."

"It's not that long." Erik replied dryly. "Haven't you got a nice ankle-length and a polo neck shirt?"

Christine laughed and put her hands on his shoulders.

"You're overreacting. The skirt is fine." He did not look particularly convinced. She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I've got my mobile phone on and I won't stay out too late."

"I want you back by midnight."

"A, you are not my father and B, I am not seventeen. So relax. Have a nice, peaceful evening and I'll be back before you know it." Christine said, as the buzzer went, signalling Meg and Sorelli's arrival. She let them in and went off to find her shoes. Meg and Sorelli knocked on her door and Erik opened it. Both women smiled brightly at the sight of him.

"Hi Mr Destler."

"How are you doing?"

"Is Christine ready yet?"

Confronted by the two nattering women, Erik unconsciously took a retreating step, just as Christine emerged, now clad in a jacket and stylish shoes. Erik threw a last disgruntled look at her skirt and Christine smiled, kissing him swiftly.

"I'll see you later."

"Have fun." If you absolutely must he added in his mind. Christine grinned.

"We will."

And then they were gone. Erik blinked, rather perplexed and rather regretting his admission of stating that she didn't need his permission to go out.

After several fast dances, the three women collapsed into chairs in one of the quieter rooms at Club Garnier. Meg went to buy drinks and Christine stretched.

"This is so much fun. I can't remember the last time I just felt this hyper!"

"It's been a while since the three of us were together like this." Sorelli commented. Meg returned, passing Sorelli a coke whilst she and Christine drank cocktails.

"Well, what next? I've danced myself to blisters, I'm just drunk enough to do something stupid and we've got several hours more of partying to do!" Meg said. Sorelli raised her glass to that.

"Good point. We're three gorgeous ladies on a Friday night. What do we do now?"

"Easy – talk to random guys and see how many telephone numbers we can get!" Meg laughed. Christine lifted an eyebrow.

"I hate to be the party-pooper, but pregnant, dating and firmly attached." She said, pointing to Sorelli, Meg and herself consecutively. Meg pouted.

"So? Do we see any of our boyfriends around? Besides, it's not serious, we're only messing around."

"Tell you what; let's see how many guys I get talking to and how many I can scare away by mentioning that I'm pregnant!" Sorelli laughed. She drained her glass and went to stand by the bar to order another, eying passing men who cast appreciative glances at her. Her bump was barely visible and it was easy to pretend that she wasn't pregnant.

Christine shook her head, grinning.

"That girl is a nutter."

"Everyone's got a hobby." Meg shrugged, sipping her cocktail and twirling the paper umbrella between her fingers as she watched Sorelli. Christine glanced at her watch and Meg snorted. "You can't be thinking about leaving already!"

"No! I was just… never mind." Christine lifted her glass and Meg giggled.

"I can't believe it. You're away from him for four hours and you're already longing to be back at the apartment. I don't know how you make it through a full day at work."

"I'm not that bad." Christine muttered and Meg gave her a cynical look. "Well, I'm not! I just… I like spending time with him."

"When are you going to own up to the fact that you love him?"

"Meg, stop it."

"Well, you do! And I'm sorry for mentioning the L-word but it's true. You haven't been this serious about anyone since Raoul and you're clearly crazy about Erik."

Christine didn't reply. She stirred the glass stick in her drink and finished the last dregs of liquid.

"I will tell him. Eventually. Right now it's just easier this way. It's that I want to leave him for anyone else. I mean… I can't imagine ever begin with anyone else, ever."

"Head-over-heels, cheesy pop song, daydreaming in love. Definition of you." Meg commented lightly, grinning as a guy backed away from Sorelli, staring in horror at her stomach. She joined them, waving a few slips of paper.

"I got me some phone numbers!" She laughed, dropping them onto the table. "Go on, Meg. Your turn."

"Remember – he's not going anywhere. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't want to hear those three little words." Meg said quietly, before heading to the bar to beat Sorelli's record.

Erik was lying in bed, reading a book with a dark green cover when Christine got back, a little past one in the morning. She took her shoes off in the living room and tiptoed into the bedroom. He glanced up.

"How was your evening?"

"It was fun." She smiled, speaking a little too carefully, as though not certain as to whether or not he could understand. He arched an eyebrow.

"Are you drunk?"

"No, just a little… tipsy." She said sitting on the edge of the bed and throwing her clothes onto the floor before wriggling under the covers to snuggle close to his warm body. His arms went around her and she giggled.

"You're so comfortable."

"Hmm." He reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. Christine drank about half of it before yawning and closing her eyes.

"You're the best, Erik."

"Glad to be of service. Go to sleep." He murmured, shutting the light off.

Christine lay for a few dozing moments, considering the being beside her. How was it possible to have emotions so strong, so unbelievably powerful for someone and still be afraid of three tiny words?

Just say them, her brain ordered.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

I love you. It's not hard. Say it.

"…Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He replied.

…Coward.

A/N: Can it be? Can it be filler?

Why yes. It is. What a surprise! Making you wait for nearly two weeks and then give you filler. I'm so mean. Well, school ain't getting any easier, but thankfully no one has died in the last week. I'll bet people are just getting used to my author's notes becoming obituaries by this point!

Anyway, yeah. Pointless chapter but at least it's up and has some semblance of pointing this story towards a plot. Please review, love you all.

Love

Katie