A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir.
Episode 43: Society
By: Elektra
Meg and Christine's dorm room
Meg was practically tearing her room apart. Christine was off having a vocal lesson with Erik, and she was at a loss.
Maybe I should have gone shopping… she thought. But what does a girl wear to impress a bunch of business people – and still look sexy for her date?
"You don't know much about this high society stuff, do you?"
Meg spun around, startled to see Sorelli standing in the open doorway, arms crossed as she looked down her four-thousand dollar nose at her.
"I don't know ANYTHING about this high society stuff!" Meg replied hopelessly.
Sorelli rolled her eyes. "Come to my room. I'll find something for you. God knows I've been to enough dinner parties on my dad's behalf."
The two headed into the neighbouring room, and Sorelli opened her closet. "I only have a couple gowns with me. The rest are at home. But maybe we can find something."
Meg glanced at her. "You go to a lot of dinner parties on campus?"
"No, not really. The social events here are somewhat disappointing, to be honest." She sighed. "But I'm always prepared, just in case."
"Can I borrow THIS one?" Meg asked as she pulled out a black and silver gown from the closet.
"Fine. Take it. But know it's my favourite dress, so if you wreck it, you pay for it!" Sorelli warned.
"How much was it?"
"Eight-hundred dollars."
Meg would make sure not to wreck it.
Giry's Office - two hours later
"Any word on the woman I keep running into, Antoinette?" Erik asked as he dropped down from the air ducts for an update.
Giry stood up and grabbed a piece of paper from her fax machine, holding it out to Erik. "Well, our scouts have found that lady you were wondering about. She is rather well-known in her field. That she keeps eluding you is not unusual. Many have tried, all have failed."
"I DO NOT fail!" Erik hissed angrily. "I have never failed a task set before me." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall wearily. "There is a reason I have yet to execute her, Antoinette."
Giry raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be? Some spell of protection?"
Erik shook his head. "I do not think a spell has anything to do with it," he admitted.
The truth was, Erik simply did not care to shed her blood. Not tonight, not since he had first seen her. In fact, he did not care to shed anyone's blood. He would rather be spending time with his beloved.
Like any normal man would.
Giry sighed heavily. "Regardless, we still do not know who hired her. Perhaps our resources are best suited to find THAT out first. A woman like her does not do something just for the sake of doing it."
Erik nodded. "Any hint as to where she may be? I could keep an eye on her."
"Rumour has it that she plans to attend some kind of dinner party tonight at the manor of Madame Aleese DuBois. You know the place, I believe." Erik nodded. "Good. Apparently, she is officially afinancial consultant and her presence was requested there tonight."
"Glad she has a day job when she's not busy raising corpses," Erik muttered.
"Yes, well…" Giry handed him a folder. "The dinner party begins at seven o'clock."
DuBois Manor – 7:30pm
Erik slowly slunk around the back of the large building that made up DuBois Manor.
Thus far, he had managed to evade the men at the gate by sneaking through tunnels below ground, and had avoided the various security guards milling about the property.
He was nothing more than a shadow.
Pitiful security, really. He thought.
He glanced in the window beside him, looking to see if he could spot Martine. All he saw, however, were shimmering gowns, a five-piece orchestra, and various upper class individuals dancing a waltz.
But… was that…
"Little Giry!" Erik said aloud as he saw Christine's best friend with the younger DeChagny's arm around her waist, his fingers caressing her slender hip.
He frowned. Perhaps Giry needed to be informed of Raoul's conduct with her only child.
Familiar with the property, Erik continued around the building to the servants' entrance and slipped into the empty hall, aware that all the servants were tending to the lady of the house and her guests.
He continued down the narrow opening until he reached the back staircase. He slowly climbed up, and slid through the door to find himself in a hallway filled with portraits of several people long since dead. The DuBois ancestors.
"YOU there! FREEZE!"
Erik spun around to see two security guards appear before him, weapons at the ready.
He cursed under his breath, holding his empty hands out to the side.
What a sight I must make – a masked man dressed in black lurking about a wealthy home.
One of the guards spoke into his walkie-talkie, informing the others around the manor of the intruder as the second guard pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Perhaps he should remind the guards who was currently designing Madame DuBois' upper west wing.
Although, sneaking around without her knowledge might be a little hard to explain. Erik mused.
He soon realized an excuse for his presence would not be necessary, however, when a door opened off to the left. The sounds of the orchestra wafted into the hallway as two young people stepped out.
"He's with us!"
Erik glanced to the source of the voice only to find it was Raoul DeChagny himself, Meg Giry by his side.
"He came as my guest." Raoul offered an almost painful smile, and Erik was certain the boy was clenching his teeth as he forced the words from his mouth.
"Yessir, Mr. DeChagny." The first guard nodded in response, and motioned for the second to move away from Erik. The two guards then continued their rounds.
Erik glared at Raoul and Meg. "What was THAT?" he demanded. "I am no guest of yours!"
"Hey, no problem. I can call them back and have them arrest you instead," Raoul offered.
Meg spoke up quickly. "We heard one of the guards walkie-talkies. They said something about a masked man in the Ancestral Hall so…" she shrugged. "We figured you don't just crash parties without a reason." She then smiled up at Raoul. "Nice save!"
Raoul responded brightly. "Thanks. It was the first thing I could think of. Considering my brother and I are guests of honour, we were given leeway to invite-"
"Yes. Wonderful." Erik interrupted. "Now if you do not mind, I am looking for someone." He began to walk away.
"What, no thanks?" Raoul asked. "I just saved your ass from jail!" He then smirked. "Guess that means you owe me one, huh?"
Before Erik could respond, Meg broke in. "Actually, it means you need to hang out with us for the rest of the night."
"WHAT?" Erik and Raoul replied in sync.
Meg shrugged. "You can't just walk around. You're supposed to be our guest, so, you need to stick with us - well, until we introduce you to the lady of the house at least." She furrowed her brow. "Couldn't you have dressed up a little or something?"
"I did not plan to make my presence known," Erik grumbled.
Meg stepped up to Erik and studied him for a moment. "Hmm… maybe we can do something here. Take off the duster."
"My weapons are in it!" He hissed.
"I'm trying to help you, Erik." Meg looked up at him. "Or I'll tell Christine you were being bitchy again."
Erik's golden eyes shifted beneath the mask. With a grunt, he shrugged the duster off, letting it fall to the ground.
"Ok. The sexy velvet pants are fine. Cute butt…" She winked.
"HEY!" Raoul snapped, not sure why he felt a sudden rush of jealousy.
Meg looked over and smiled at him. "You have a cute butt too, Raoul." She then turned her attention back to Erik.
"Ok, the boots are cool." She bit her lip and thought a moment. "But the shirt…" she motioned to the large staircase to the left. "We might have to go searching."
Raoul crossed his arms. "It's standard etiquette not to go wandering the house without a chaperone when you're a guest!"
Meg shrugged. "There could be something useful in one of the rooms upstairs. Come on." She headed over to the large oak staircase and made her way up, looking back to see if the two men were following.
Erik was only a few feet behind her, holding his duster. Raoul, on the other hand, was simply staring at her aghast. "What?" she asked. "Don't you want to check this place out? Move that sweet DeChagny ass!"
Raoul reluctantly followed.
As they reached the top, Meg sucked in a breath. "Wow..." she gasped as she stared down the wood paneled hall, a lush red carpet leading the way to the West wing and the East wing – the former blocked by yellow construction tape. "Must be nice to have money." She sighed.
"Well, it is not horrible." Erik replied knowingly.
"As if you know anything about money." Raoul snorted. "Living in a basement."
"High society never appealed to me. I am sure you can figure out why," Erik replied bitterly. "But that does not mean I could not afford it."
"What? Do you get paid per Hunt or something?" Raoul asked.
Erik turned down the East hall. "You forget whom your brother commissioned to design the new DeChagny summer home last year." He glanced back at Raoul. "Do you think he was my only client?"
His long stride led him several feet in front of Meg and Raoul, who had to rush to keep up.
"Wait, Erik - where are you going?" Meg asked.
He tilted his head to the left hallway. "The master bedroom is down this way."
Raoul eyed him suspiciously. "And how do you know?"
"Because I needed a copy of the blueprints to remodel the West wing." He glanced at Raoul and motioned behind him. "Or did you not notice the yellow construction tape blocking that side off?" Erik then grew serious. "I really should reprimand the crew for their delays."
"Woah!" Meg gasped as she ran to reach Erik's side. "The rich old lady is another client?"
"One of many." Erik replied, and said no more as the three continued down the hall.
O'Grady's Bar – outside
Christine kept her ears and eyes alert as she walked the two blocks from her place of work to the bus stop. Someone was following her.
Normally, Erik would pick her up from work on his bike - which she had finally gotten used to - but tonight, he was otherwise occupied.
Christine quickened her steps, glancing back and forth purposely, making sure whomever was following her knew she was aware of their presence.
Erik's self-defense instructions kicked in as a hand reached out to grab her.
"Miss Daaé!" A voice gasped as a figure jumped away from her.
"Mr. Khan!" Christine realized when she saw the olive skinned man beneath the lamplight. "I'm so sorry. I thought someone was following me!"
"Yes. I was." Nadir replied with a sheepish smile. "Erik asked me to keep an eye on you tonight. He worries about you."
"Because of the co-ed killings?" she asked.
Nadir nodded. "As well as general concern for your well-being."
Christine smiled at that. "He worries a lot."
"You are very special to him, Miss Daaé."
"You can call me Christine."
"You may call me Nadir." He offered, then studied her for a moment. "Tell me, Christine… have you ever met Erik's mother?"
"Um, I met her once. When she first got out of jail. Erik had to be there and asked if I wanted to come with. I didn't really talk to her or anything."
She glanced away. "To be honest, Mr. Khan - Nadir. I don't know what I'd say to her. Erik told me what happened between them when he was a kid. I'm worried if we do talk, it'll end badly. She may not like what I have to say."
"Maybe she needs to hear it," Nadir replied. "Would you like to see her tonight? Erik will not be home for a while yet. It is better than going back to spend a lonely night in Residence."
Christine remained unsure. "I don't want to make things worse between them."
"As it stands now, that would be impossible." He held a hand out to her. "Come. Please?"
DuBois Manor
Erik stared at the pile of clothing Meg had thrown on a trunk after raiding a rotted wardrobe filled with garments that looked old enough to belong to the DuBois ancestors themselves.
Their search of the house had led them up to the attic.
Erik picked up a black silk shirt that looked like a throwback to the Middle Ages. It smelled musty and was in desperate need of airing out, but he didn't have that luxury.
With a sigh, Erik tugged off his current top. "Chrissy really should cut her nails," Meg commented as she saw the little scratch marks across his chest.
Raoul turned to her, brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Erik closed his eyes and winced. Sometimes the girl spoke before she thought.
"Oh… um… nothing." Meg quickly changed the subject. "Hurry, Erik. Put the shirt on before we get caught."
Raoul's eyes fell on Erik suspiciously, but he dared not voice his thoughts.
Thirty minutes later
Christine sat silently before Madeline as Nadir offered the two refreshments.
"Christine. It's nice to finally get a chance to talk to you," Madeline began. "I love your hair. Blonde suits you."
"Thanks," Christine muttered. She had never been faced with a more unpleasant situation. "Erik was sweet enough to pay for it." She met Madeline's eyes, driving the point home. "Erik does a lot of sweet things."
"Of course," Madeline replied as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "He could be a sweet boy when he wanted to be."
Christine bit her lip, not wanting to say what was on her mind. It wasn't her place.
YES, it IS your place! A voice in the back of her mind told her. Say it.
Christine took a deep breath and spoke. "They WHY did you treat him like garbage?" she demanded.
Nadir had wanted her to speak to Madeline, and speak she would. She just would not be polite about it.
"Why did you make him feel like he was some sort of evil monster?" Christine continued. "Why did you tell him no one would ever LOVE him! Why did you HURT him so much?"
Madeline's face fell. "Things were complicated…" she tried to explain, but Christine would hear none of it.
"He was scared to touch me!" Christine informed the woman. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have feelings for someone who's afraid to touch you?" She could feel the tears burning, but she had much to get off her chest.
Ms. Renau needed to know what she did to her son.
"He ran away the first time I kissed him, Madeline! RAN AWAY!" Christine hit her tiny fist on the arm of the chair. "Because he thought I was offended when he responded! He thought he was some horrible creature who had no right to act like a man! Who had no right to feel what he was feeling!"
Christine was shaking now. "He told me I gave him his first hug! Last year. He went THAT long without a single hug!"
"I was SCARED!" Madeline finally interrupted.
"Of WHAT?" Christine shot back. She suddenly stood up and turned to Nadir, who had thus far watched their heated interaction with wide eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Khan. I told you this wouldn't end well. I think I'll just go back to my dorm and get some sleep."
"Of HIM!" Madeline jumped to her feet, answering Christine's earlier question. "He was … wrong! So very wrong!"
Madeline ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I had no money. I was a whore who had been knocked up. How could I make my living with a kid?
"I thought he needed medical attention! I thought… I don't know – he was so thin. Almost skeletal. I didn't know if he'd even live! And his face! What kind of baby is born with such a face?" She fell into her seat as Christine turned back to her, waiting for elaboration.
"Dammit…" Madeline sighed beneath her breath. She watched Christine slowly resume her chair. "I was your age, Christine. Maybe even younger. I'd been selling myself on the street for two years by then. I didn't even graduate high school."
She slowly massaged her temples. "I didn't know anything about raising a child! And I wasn't mature enough to accept that he was different."
"Erik's father had disappeared the moment he saw his son. I figured if Erik had been a cute baby, a perfect baby, maybe Shay would have stayed."
Madeline folded her hands in her lap. "I thought Erik would have no end of medical problems, but that boy wasn't sick a day in his life! Despite the way he looked, how thin he was, he was perfectly healthy!
"It might be hard to understand how a healthy baby could frighten his momma… but when he started his first words at six months, walking on his own at eight months, and harmonizing while banging away at a piano at one year-old, I knew something wasn't right! At that time, I had no idea what Shay was." She let out a harsh laugh. "I STILL don't know what he is…"
She then glanced away, wringing her hands nervously. "Shay had a fierce temper. And Erik inherited it. I don't mean a child's temper tantrums. I mean a full, terrifying temper! Before he was two, he began to speak in complete sentences. Absolutely coherent, as if he were years older!
"And he would let me know how he felt. He would let me know when he disliked my behaviour. Or what I prepared for dinner. Or… anything, really. And his eyes…" She shook her head. "When he was angry, those eyes…" She let out a harsh laugh.
"He was my dark little secret. No one knew about him. When I was busted for possession, prostitution and theft, the Feds were surprised to find drugs and stolen merchandise weren't the ONLY things I was hiding in my apartment."
"I know all about his anger, Madeline." Christine explained softly. "I've seen it. But I also know how to calm him."
"How?" Madeline asked, surprised that such a thing could be done.
"A touch," Christine shrugged. "Maybe a hug. A kiss. A gentle word. All those things you could have given him, but never did."
Madeline looked ashamed. "I know. I should have loved my son."
Christine met Madeline's eyes, her own filled with confusion. "How you could not love him?"
DuBois Manor
Erik, Raoul and Meg entered the room where the guests had gathered to socialize. Madame DuBois waved them over, her financial advisor beside her looking far too familiar to Erik.
"I see you two have a guest?" DuBois asked as she studied Erik curiously, her eyes straying to the mask.
Before Raoul could speak, Erik spoke up. "You already know me, Madame." he bowed politely. "Erik Garner."
"OH!" She seemed overjoyed as she grasped his hand and shook it enthusiastically, and turned to the coffee-skinned woman beside her. "Martine Robichaux, Erik Garner." DuBois introduced the two.
"This is the man I was telling you about, Martine." She babbled on. "He designed my new upper wing. I highly recommended him if you're looking to remodel your home."
Martine studied Erik with dark eyes. He knew she recognized him. How could she not? "It's nice to know your name, Mr. Garner." She held a hand out to him. Erik did not take it.
"Ms. Robichaux. Likewise." Erik tilted his head in acknowledgement.
DuBois glanced back at Erik, oblivious to the uncomfortable interaction. "I've recommended you to some of my friends. I hope you don't mind receiving a few calls in the next little while."
"Not at all. I thank you ahead of time." Erik replied.
"Tell me, what brings you here tonight, Mr. Garner?" Martine asked suspiciously, though she knew very well it was her.
Erik narrowed his eyes at the woman, the caught himself and glanced over to Raoul. "I am Mr. DeChagny's guest. A patron of the Populaire myself."
"Are you now?" Madame DuBois interrupted excitedly. "Do you have an eye for ballet as well?"
Erik offered the older woman a small smile. "I prefer the operas."
"I would be interested in hearing what you have to say about opera," Martine interrupted. "I simply don't understand the motives of some of the characters."
Erik's attention immediately went to her. "It can often get complicated, Ms. Robichaux. Sometimes things are not always what they seem."
Martine smiled at this. "We should have a one-on-one discussion sometime soon. I'm sure it would be rather interesting to see how it turns out." She turned to Madame DuBois. "Pardon me, Aleese. I see someone I need to speak to."
"Of course," DuBois replied.
With a flick of her mahogany hair, Martine disappeared into the crowd.
Erik attempted to go after her, but Madame DuBois quickly took his arm and insisted on introducing him to her guests.
When the evening was over, Erik Garner had found himself several new clients.
The Executioner, however, had lost his quarry once again.
Erik's Room – the next day
Erik sat upon his bed and stared at the police reports that Nadir had so kindly acquired for him (without Leroux's knowledge, no doubt).
Three more murders in as many weeks. Females in their early twenties, students at various local colleges.
All had been strangled, their faces mangled post-mortem.
Erik had been called the stalker-boyfriend by Sorelli in jest once. But he preferred to think of himself as Christine's guardian angel, for that was the main reason he had again taken to lurking in the shadows once night fell.
His concern for Christine's safety far outweighed how she would react if she ever found out he was following her.
"Erik! You home!"
Erik's thoughts were interrupted as he heard an excited voice call through the other side of his door, followed by an eager pounding for entrance.
"Come in, Christine," he called back.
In a blur of golden hair, Christine burst through the door and tackled Erik flat on his bed then pushed herself up to sit upon his stomach. "I GOT ACCEPTED!" she squealed, holding a piece of paper in front of him.
He took it from her, leaving the girl to continue sitting where she was, and read it. "The summer dance workshop at the Populaire?" he asked.
She nodded eagerly. "I'll be there mostly for the dancing, but I'll also get a chance to learn how real operas are performed and all the stuff that goes into it! OH… and maybe… maybe I might get another chance on stage!"
Christine then lay down atop him, her head on his shoulder, a hand absently snaking beneath his shirt. "It's going to be amazing, Erik!"
"It will be a wonderful opportunity," he agreed. "Do you know if any of your fellow students were accepted?"
"OH! Yes! Meg, Sorelli, and Jammes! No one else though. The rest are from other schools, I'm guessing. I think there were 10 spots altogether."
"At least you will be with your friends then."
She pushed herself up to brush gentle fingers over his sunken cheek. "The only bad part is - we won't be able to see each other as much." She pouted.
"Well, I do have ways of getting into places. I am a ghost after all," he replied. "Besides, I would not have so easily abandoned our lessons."
Christine smirked down at him. "Do you mean our singing lessons?" She lowered her mouth to taunt the soft skin just behind his earlobe, causing a shiver from the man beneath her. "Or those other lessons?"
Erik's voice was shaky when he spoke again. "We are both students in the latter."
He felt her smile against his skin. "You're a faster learner than me. And it stops you from being bitchy all the time," she muttered as she trailed her lips down his neck and slowly pushed his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the ground without a second thought.
"Christine…"
"Hmm? Something you want to say?" she asked as her kisses made their way over his chest.
With a surprised yelp, Christine found herself on her back, looking up into Erik's heated glare. "I… am NOT… bitchy!"
"Well, not at the moment," she tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him down into an intense kiss. "Mmmm… oh!" She suddenly broke contact. "I need to tell you something."
Erik looked tortured, his body making it clear it was a bad time for interruptions. "Now?"
Christine smiled as she tucked a lock of ebony hair behind his ear. "I just think you should know… I spoke to your mother last night."
Erik quickly shoved himself off her, his mood no longer ardent. "Why!" he demanded.
Christine sat up and reached for his arm. He tugged it away. "Erik. Don't be like that! I talked to her because Nadir asked me to, ok?"
Erik slid to the edge of the bed, gripping the mattress with a scowl. "You didn't have to say YES!"
With a sigh, Christine traced her fingers over the scars on his back, then wrapped her arms around him from behind. "But I did say yes," she answered. "And I gave her a piece of my mind."
He was silent for a few moments, then finally spoke. "What did you say to her?"
"I told her I didn't understand how she couldn't love you." She moved herself around to slip into his lap. "She had no answer for that, but she wants you to call her, Erik. She wants to apologize for… for everything."
Erik scowled. "What could she say to me, Christine? 'Sorry for making your childhood hell, Son. Sorry for killing any ounce of humanity you may have had'?" he spat.
"Erik-" Christine started, but Erik interrupted.
"For so long, I shut myself off from feeling anything because it was too much. I became cold. Frozen. Taking a life did not matter to me. Not until-" he halted, his voice growing softer. "… until I met you."
He lay her down on the bed and pulled her against him, burying his face against her neck. "I want to stop."
"Stop?" She asked, brow furrowed.
"Stop… executing. I cannot do it anymore," he hissed fiercely. "I can't hear the screams again. I can't watch a lost soul's humanity come back the last second before he dies at my hands! I can't touch you with those same hands and pretend there's no stain!"
He met her eyes. "I need PEACE, damn it! For once in my life, I need peace."
"Erik!" Christine gasped, startled at his words, yet knowing he meant every one of them.
"You… you are such a good girl, Christine. You have given me so very much, and yet, I still do things that frighten you. That frighten me even." He caressed her cheek.
"I have been debating this for a while now," Erik continued. "I will have to explain to Giry, but I'm sure she will understand." He frowned. "Leroux, on the other hand, may not be so accepting."
"You would really stop?" she squeaked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
"I would. And I would not regret it."
"But… the scary things you fight-"
"I will still fight the scary things, as you put it," he interrupted. "I just will not execute the living ones. Let Leroux find another soulless bastard to do his bidding."
"You aren't soulless, Erik," Christine replied.
"Sometimes, I am not so sure," he answered darkly.
"I am," Christine responded, reaching up to brush her lips against his.
He returned the gesture eagerly, his kisses traveling their way down her neck, over her pulse, then back up to her mouth. She reveled in the warmth of his graceful fingers against her skin as they gently slid beneath the cotton of her t-shirt.
Without another word, Christine eagerly wrapped herself around him, glad to give him the one thing he required most of all.
Peace...
END OF EPISODE 43