A/N: As always, a very special thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir. I never would have made it this far without her
Episode 42: Closer
By: Elektra
Vodoun priestess Martine Robichaux sat cross-legged before the lone white candle she had placed on the ground.
Taking a piece of paper, she scribbled down a quick phrase before pinning it to the hard wax.
With a deep breath, she lit the wick and began to chant:
Cleanse the energy around me, Damballah protect me and keep me from harm.
She repeated the phrase until the wax melted and the pin fell to the ground with a light plink.
The Hunters may find her, but they would never ever catch her.
Erik's Room
Erik could not sleep as he stared into the endless darkness, the candles long since melted to nothing. He glanced over at the clock – the only illumination in the room.
It had happened five hours ago.
He had been injured fighting the creature formerly known as Bobby Stevens, tired from being interrogated the previous night.
But it had still happened.
His senses were more alert then they had ever been before. He was aware of everything around him - the sound of water dripping in the washroom, the scent of apples mixed with a hint of peroxide upon his pillow…
… and the rise and fall of Christine's soft little curves against his body.
Erik closed his eyes.
Christine's kisses had started off sweet and gentle, but had soon grown heated. He could still recall the way she had made herself so very vulnerable to him; how his instincts took over as his logic left him; how his weariness vanished.
Erik remembered something powerful, almost painful, building up inside him. He had held on, desperately trying to keep it at bay… until he could do so no longer.
He would be the first to admit he had long ago lost his icy heart to the girl currently sleeping beside him, but now... now he had lost his damaged body and blackened soul - and she had welcomed both with opened arms.
Erik had not cried since he was a child, nor had he ever intended to do so again - but several hours ago his pride had momentarily left him and the iron grip he had kept on his emotions faltered. He had buried his horrid face in Christine's hair and unashamedly let the tears fall. He had felt her own tears dampen his shoulder and heard her soft voice in his ear.
And then he had asked her to marry him.
Christine had seemed taken aback by the question - until he informed her that she was free to answer any time within the next seventy years.
A smile had spread across her lips then, her arms wrapping affectionately around him.
She did not answer the question, nor did he blame her. Both knew he had spoken before his mind could process the gravity of his words. She did not seem opposed to the idea, however, and soon fell asleep, curled up against him.
Erik now looked upon her peaceful face as he brushed a few golden curls off her forehead.
Did she regret what had happened? Would she wake up and scream that he had polluted her? That he had ruined her? Would she hate him? Would she run? Would she-
"Mmm… you feel nice…" came Christine's soft voice as a hand slid over the lean curve of his hip and gently grasped his backside.
Erik took a shaky breath.
"This is where you're supposed to say 'you feel nice too, Christine' …" Christine muttered against his chest. She wiggled closer, allowing him to savour the feel of her warm skin against his - and unintentionally react to it. "Actually – never mind. It's kind of obvious now."
"Forgive me."
Christine chuckled. "It's okay. Makes me feel special."
"You are special," Erik insisted.
"If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna want to repeat what we did last night." A pause. "Um… though… with a bit less zeal, 'cuz … I'm a little…" she tried to find a fitting word "... achy... at the moment."
"I am so sorry," he replied guiltily. "I should have realized.You've never... neither of us have ever-" he stopped his rambling. It was, perhaps, not the type of thing a girl wanted to hear the morning after.
"I love you," he said instead, gently grasping her chin and tilting her head up to meet her eyes. "So very much," he finished, unable to hide the heated longing and intense emotions warring within him.
Christine swallowed hard. "Erik... if... if you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to forget I'm... tender..."
"Christine… I-" But one look from her made it clear no more needed to be said.
With that little bit of encouragement, Erik's curious hands and inquisitive kisses proceeded to commit every inch of his angel to memory.
Meg and Christine's dorm - 2 hours later
The sound of a cell phone startled Meg from her sleep. She glanced at her clock, the glowing numbers telling her it was 9am.
Her phone continued to ring.
With a groan, she grabbed it, not bothering to look at the Caller ID. "What!" she demanded.
"Meg? It's Raoul. Did I wake you?"
Meg was immediately alert. "HEY! Umm… no no… not at all!" she answered quickly. A lie, but he didn't need to know that.
"Oh! Good. I was just wondering if you'd be interested in joining me for a morning coffee." He asked. "I wanted to thank you for the crash course in ballet."
Meg smiled, remembering how Raoul had called her up the other night – before the unfortunate Bobby incident – and had asked her to tell him everything she knew about the great ballet choreographer, George Balanchine.
His new knowledge had gone over quite well with Philip's business associates.
"So? How about it?" he asked.
Meg smiled. "Ok!"
"Great! I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."
"Ok," she repeated, then disconnected the call and stared at the phone, the smile never leaving her face.
… until…
"TWENTY MINUTES!" She immediately jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready.
Erik's Room
A knock at the door startled Erik from his slumber.
Christine was sleeping once again, a leg entwined with his, a hand upon his hip.
He didn't want to leave her. Didn't want to lose the feel of her welcoming softness against his undeserving body.
The knock came again. "Erik? Open up! It is important!"
Erik growled at the sound of Giry's demanding voice – could that woman never leave him in peace?
At least she had chosen her moment of interruption better this time.
With a brush of lips over Christine's bare shoulder, Erik reluctantly unwound himself from her warm embrace.
Sighing wearily, he slid off the bed and grabbed his mask and sleep shorts, quickly tugging them on before he opened the door to a fretting Giry.
"I was told by Sorelli that Robert Stevens came back last night and made a disturbing scene in the student lounge," Giry explained. "I have not seen Christine this morning and I do not know where she could-"
"Christine is fine, Antoinette." Erik interrupted the woman, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake the aforementioned girl. "Bobby returned a little less alive. I had a scuffle with him."
"He was turned?" she asked. Erik nodded. "And he is finished now?"
Erik shook his head. "Unfortunately not. The police arrived at a most inopportune time. With their weapons trained on me, I did not relish the idea of getting injured again." he indicated the gauze on his arm. "The boy had a knife – and very shaky hands."
Giry massaged her temples, understanding the position Erik had been in. "Perhaps we should have kept a better eye on him. I had no idea he would go to such extremes to get back at you." She tried to walk into the room but Erik stepped in front of her.
"You did not ask permission to enter," Erik replied.
Giry looked up at him, brow furrowed. Why did it seem as if he were hiding something?
"Erik?" a soft voice spoke in the darkness of the room. "Who's at the door?" Christine, now dressed only in Erik's discarded shirt, walked up beside him. "Madame Giry!"
"Christine?" Giry replied, surprised to see the girl in such a state of undress. Giry then looked up at Erik, disapproval clear on her face. "Erik?"
Erik shrugged. "I did tell you she was fine, Antoinette."
Giry glanced back at Christine, seeing the telltale signs of an ardent night upon the girl's flushed skin.
The older woman raised her eyes to the masked man once again, a frown upon her lips. "What have you done, Erik?"
"It was not only me, Antoinette."
"Yes…but…" Giry protested. "She is only a child!"
"She is twenty-one!" Erik replied.
"And I'm standing right here!" Christine finally spoke up. She then hugged Erik's arm and buried her face against it. "And feeling really awkward too, thanks."
Giry wanted to say more, but shook her head. "I should have known this would happen. It was old-fashioned of me to think otherwise."
She took a deep breath and made eye contact with Christine. "I only hope you were careful enough not to risk your career."
Without another word, Giry turned around and headed back up the hallway.
Christine furrowed her brow. "What does she mean careful enough?"
Erik groaned at his own foolishness - such a thought had not even occurred to him. "We did not take precautions," he mused out loud.
"Precautions?" Christine asked, then understood what he was referring too. "OH! Um… I… I've sort of been unintentionally taking precautions since a really embarrassing female moment back in high school. No worries."
Erik had never felt such relief.
He went to sit on the bed, Christine following behind him. He tugged her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I should have asked beforehand."
Christine placed a light kiss atop his head. "I don't think you were coherent enough."
A ghost of a smile played upon his lips. "No. I most likely wasn't." He tightened his grip and held her for several moments before he spoke again.
"I hate to part from you, but there are a few things I must do today. Such as find out why Leroux saw fit to interrupt us a few nights ago with accusations."
Christine nodded as she absently played with the ebony locks that hung just past his shoulders. "Maybe I'll go see a movie with Meg this afternoon. Cheap Saturday matinees." She slid her arms around Erik's neck. "But I'll see you tonight, right?"
"Of course. I have planned a lesson to help you with your vocal final."
Christine smirked. "And after the lesson?"
"I will leave that up to you."
Starbucks Coffee
"So it went over well?" Meg asked as she took a sip of her caramel macchiato, looking across the table to the youngest DeChagny. She wondered if he noticed her new perfume.
Raoul nodded. "Very well! They were quite impressed. The two ladies are ballet fanatics and have given a lot to various dance companies and arts programs. My bro, he wants to go into the arts. Wants to invest in The Populaire, specifically, but he needs some extra backing. That place kind of relies on investors to keep afloat. They get a cut of the profits."
Raoul then glanced away, looking a little uncomfortable for a moment.
"What's wrong?" Meg asked.
"Well Phil – ever the opportunist – um… kind of mentioned I was… seeing… a ballet student."
Meg's face fell. "He still thinks you're dating Christine."
"No."
Meg looked up at him, brow furrowed. "What then?"
Raoul met her eyes. "He thinks I'm dating you."
Meg's heart nearly leapt out of her chest. "M-me?" she squeaked.
Raoul bit his lower lip nervously. "Well, he caught us that one time when we were trying to listen in on his conversation with that freaky guy… Shay. I mean, we were kissing in the closet, Meg! You can imagine what he thought! And hey-"
He quickly grabbed her hand reassuringly. "I know it was all for cover and didn't mean anything, but … I couldn't tell him we were eavesdropping, so…"
Raoul shrugged and pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry, Meg. I made a mess of it. I guess it doesn't help that I tell him when we hang out together. He thinks we're… you know… a couple now."
"Oh," was all Meg could say.
"Um…" Raoul looked uncomfortable again. "And… well… I guess I had an ulterior motive for inviting you out this morning." He stirred his cappuccino nervously.
Meg eyed him warily. Great. What now?
He glanced at her, then looked away again. "These ladies… they want to meet you. Phil's got some business to talk to them about and they're having a dinner party in a few weeks, so he needs to make an appearance. Told me I should come with, and bring my... girlfriend..."
Raoul had the decency to look embarrassed. "He wants you to butter them up, I think. You're hoping to dance at the Populaire one day, and he believes it would be nice for them to see 'the future'… or some such crap."
He looked like a regretful puppy. "I'm so sorry, Meg. This must put you in an awkward position."
Meg smiled, leaning over the table to brush a dirty-blond lock of hair off his forehead. "Not a problem. I'd love to do it."
His blue eyes lit up. "Really?"
Yes, you gorgeous idiot! I've got a huge crush on you! "Sure. Why not? Could be fun." she shrugged nonchalantly.
"Thank you so much, Meg! You won't regret it!" Raoul smiled. "I'll call you when I find out more details."
"Call me before that." Meg said quickly, then immediately took on an air of indifference to cover up her eagerness. "I mean, we have to pretend like we know all about each other, right? So… we should get to know all about each other."
"Good point!" Raoul exclaimed as if the thought had not occurred to him before. "Ok then. We'll make plans to hang out and chat."
Meg's smile could not be brighter. "It's a date!"
Nadir Khan's Apartment – that afternoon
Madeline was lounging on the couch, watching the Movie of the Week when she heard the knock upon the door.
She rose to answer, and froze when she saw who stood there. "Erik?"
"Madeline," Erik acknowledged as he looked down at the woman before him. "Where is Nadir?"
She shuddered at the coolness of his voice, quite aware he was not happy to see her. "He... he's just taking a shower. Come in. Sit. Um... maybe we can talk?"
Erik sat down on a chair, but did not seem overly interested in talking.
Madeline sat across from him nervously. "How have you been?" she asked.
"Fine," came Erik's short reply.
"And how is Christine? She doing ok in school?"
"Christine is fine. Currently excelling in Vocal Techniques IV."
At least that was a full answer, Madeline thought. "And you two are doing well?"
"Quite well."
"I'm so glad," Madeline replied. She was silent as she studied her son for a moment, then had to swallow the gasp when she noticed something about his current demeanor
Erik glared at the woman before him, a scowl upon what little could be seen of his face. "Why are you smiling?"
Madeline just shook her head, the smile never leaving her lips. She knew what a satisfied man looked like, and right now - despite his frigid attitude - Erik was a very satisfied man.
"Erik? I was not expecting you." A freshly showered and clothed Nadir started as he entered the living room.
"I'm sure you boys have business. I'll be around if you want me." Madeline replied as she stood up and excused herself from the room.
"You actually decided to visit your mother?" Nadir asked, surprised.
"It was not her I came to visit!" Erik explained. "I want to know what you've heard about the latest rash of murders."
Nadir furrowed his brow, surprised by the question. "Since when have you cared about crimes outside those that involve the guild?"
"Since Leroux dragged me down to headquarters and gave me the third degree - after confiscating my weapon for testing!"
Nadir winced. "I TOLD him you would have nothing to do with such wanton killing!"
"He will always think OTHERWISE, Nadir. There is a reason he made me the guild's executioner."
Nadir could not argue. "I should give you a heads up. He may ask you your whereabouts last night. There was another one."
Erik scoffed. "I was busy fighting one of them. An former student of the school who took personal issue with me."
"He is dust then?" Nadir asked.
"Unfortunately the police crashed the party. Leroux has probably since dealt with him."
Nadir nodded. "And after the fight?"
Erik was silent a moment. "I was with Christine for the remainder of the night."
Nadir raised an eyebrow. Something about the way Erik had said that... "Ah!" He realized, a smile spreading upon his lips. "I see!"
"Why are you and Madeline grinning at me like fools today?" Erik snapped angrily.
Nadir didn't answer. Instead, he stood up and went to a shelf off to the right, taking a small book from it. "You may find this interesting."
Nadir handed the book to Erik, who impatiently flipped through it, pausing every so often to tilt the book to the left or the right, brow furrowed beneath the mask. "It is amazing how the human body can twist and turn!" he spoke in wonderment, then considered Nadir's impetus for giving him the book.
Erik immediately glared at the man before him, a hand fisting at his side. "I came here to find out about the murders, Nadir!"
"Well you are no fun, Erik!" Nadir pouted. "But very well. Come with me. We will take a look in the police database. Leroux kindly gave me access to it."
With a gesture of his hand, Nadir led Erik to his computer room, the masked man unconsciously slipping the book into the pocket of his duster.
Ravelle Residence – Student lounge (three hours later)
"Any luck finding a good movie to see?" Meg asked as Christine thumbed through the newspaper.
"No, but I did find this!" Christine held open the page for Meg and showed her the advertisement. "A summer workshop at the Populaire!"
"WHAT?" Meg quickly sat herself down beside Christine and grabbed the paper from her. "It says here that they'll be picking from various applicants and showing them what life is like in a dance company!" Her eyes went wide. "Oh Chrissy! This could be a huge opportunity for us!"
"We should apply and see what happens." Christine smiled. "It would be so exciting working in a real theater!"
Meg laughed. "You've already worked in a real theater!"
"For one night only," Christine protested. "And it wasn't actually work. It was a birthday present!"
"Yeah yeah. Same shit, different pile. I hope you thanked Erik properly for arranging that."
Christine blushed at the insinuation, and Meg's jaw dropped as she realized she was closer to the truth than she thought.
"Holy crap!" Meg gasped as she grabbed Christine's shoulders and turned the blushing girl to face her. "You DID it!"
"What did Christine do?" Sorelli asked as she and Jammes entered the lounge.
Meg thought fast, the pleading look in Christine's eyes making it clear she did not want Sorelli or Jammes to know what Meg had just figured out.
"Chrissy found an amazing ad in the newspaper. Look," Meg quickly showed the other two girls the Populaire's advertisement.
Sorelli and Jammes made plans to apply as soon as possible.
Laramie Drive
Forgotten but not gone, the human-looking creature known as Sytri walked around in what was left of his once-beautiful home. The roof was leaking, the floorboards were creaking, and the broken windows and furniture had yet to be replaced.
The Hunters had destroyed everything in their wake - looking for him.
They had come up empty.
He entered the bedroom off to the left only to see a twenty-something boy playing a video game.
"I had another date last night, father," the boy started as he turned his masked face to the man who had just entered. "She was so lovely. Made the most interesting sounds when I pulled the rope tight."
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and held out a thick blonde lock of hair, stained with dried blood. "I kept a memento."
"I'm glad you had a good time… son," Sytri answered.
My, how easy these mortals are to control, he thought. The boy - Adam - had no idea what had been done to him.
Leaving the room, Sytri mused on how little effort it had taken to play with this one's mind. He had even managed to convince the boy he was some hideously ugly monster in need of a mask - despite the relative normality of his features. This belief had led the boy into hating all things pretty. Even Martine Robichaux – a Creole lady the boy had hired – would not be safe when the time came.
Of course, Adam thought he was making his father proud with his wanton killing spree – something that had, in fact, been a product of the boy's own long-hidden sadistic streak.
It had both surprised and impressed Sytri that such viciousness existed in one simple mortal. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to make the boy believe his faux history, to make Adam think he had found his long lost father.
Father indeed, Sytri thought.
Sytri was only father to one bastard child - the one who had betrayed him.
The one Adam had come to believe was his ungrateful older brother, Erik.
END OF EPISODE 42