A/N: I'm having problems with fanfic, so don't kill me…Oh and this chappie is dedicated to Morgan for bieng the best opponent for VP, and winning!
When she woke up, Erik was gone, but Raoul had left a card telling her that they would wait for her at the Opera. Christine dressed quickly and grabbed a piece of toast that was on the table. She saw the rose with a black ribbon and smiled as she ate swiftly. She walked out to find it was noon. She shook her head and took a carriage to the Opera. Christine knew where they would be, and went down to the lair without making a sound to disturb the occupants of the Opera.
She found Erik composing and Raoul with a book at different end of the place. She giggled and both men turned their heads. Erik stood up quickly and helped her out of the boat. His eyes had a hint of anger in them, she guessed it was because of Raoul. Christine was placed into a chair with a cup of tea and both men sat down expectantly. She began sipping the tea and then put it down calmly.
"Both of you have worked hard through the first of three stages," she began sternly. Then her expression became troubled and wearied.
"In the first event Erik won for his musical ability. In the second event…due to the fact that I was allowed outside with him, Raoul won. In other words, a tie, gentlemen. You are both evenly matched. This is where the second stage commences. I plan to spend a week with each of you. No hiding from me or ignoring I exist. I will see every aspect of you personal lives, and see how well they match with mine,"
Erik sat smirking, and Raoul seemed shocked at the very idea. "The first person with whom I shall spend this time with is Erik, starting as soon as Raoul leaves," Christine said laughing at his expression.
Erik picked up a knife and gazed at it lovingly. "Raoul, do you need a shave?" he asked innocently. Raoul eyes the knife suspiciously and ran out the lair. Erik laughed and then grabbed Christine. "I do remember one night where we made love a dozen times," he whispered seductively in her ear.
She blushed profusely and then leaned into his embrace. "I do recall the next day where you had your first pillow fight," she said softly, grinning into his chest.
"I do recall you singing a wonderful aria instead of Carlotta,"
"I do recall you singing Music of the Night,"
"I do recall you walking in a graveyard crying,"
"I do recall when we both sang the Point of No Return,"
"I do recall when you kissed another man, at a masquerade,"
"I do recall when you tried to kill that man,"
The battle ended when Erik abruptly let go of her, and sat at his piano, a sad, lonely tune coming up. The chords sounded hurt and abandoned, and Christine regretted saying that. She touched him on the shoulder, and he stopped. "I'm sorry, Erik…it's just…I'm…oh to hell with it, I'm having my monthly,"
Erik sat up straight and looked at her with horrified eyes. "And what is this?"
She sighed and sat down next to him on the piano bench. "Every month, women who are not pregnant bleed for about 5-7 days. This is accompanied with cramps and extreme mood swings. We often say things we don't mean,"
"Should I worry about this?"
"You can't make love to me tonight. Tonight's my last night,"
He looked crestfallen. "However, you can teach me how the infamous Opera Ghost prepares his dinner," she said jokingly.
He looked at her, and then his eyes lit up with something devilous. "How about something different for dinner? Would you like that?"
"And what would be this sort of different?"
"The type where I cook a little bit of one dish from Britain, one from Germany, one from Spain, one from Corsica, and one from Italy,"
"Sounds wonderful!" Christine said, her stomach rumbling in response. "When do we eat?"
"As soon as we're done cooking," he said, bringing her into a suite of rooms that she had never noticed before. It seemed like a surreal world, where everything was not cluttered. It hardly seemed he lived there. He pulled out a near-new set of utensils, and began getting out vegetables and meats out of the larder. Christine began to nervously pace around the room. Erik walked in, arms full, to this scene. He dropped the materials down upon a surface and then walked over to her.
He never reached two feet before she started yelling. "WHAT THE BLAZES IS THIS? DO YOU EVER COOK? IS THIS WHY YOU'RE SO PALE AND SICKLY? DO YOU NEED TO GET MORE FOOD?"
Erik grabbed her and she stopped, her eyes brimming with tears. She said softly, "Father died because he was anorexic. He would not eat. I don't want to lose you too," putting her head on his shoulder.
A set of gray-blue eyes gazed at her hiccupping body wonderously. She cared about his so much she was afraid of losing him. The monster of all things. He then heard her whisper, "You're not a monster, Erik," and he laughed, a full-blown laugh, raspy from years of never being tried. Christine giggled, glad she lightened the mood a little, and then got the cookbook.
They had debates on which recipes to choose, and then more problems with how much they should cook. Erik wanted spicy tastes and more food than needed, and Christine wanted sour tastes and a normal amount. They finally agreed on more food, and an herby taste to try, only after Erik kissed the living daylights out of her.
Cooking was wonderful, as they both created a masterpiece together. The meal was both wonderful and delicious. (and the author had a wonderful story, made with wonderful hands and wonderful feet and wonderful, gorgoues, sexy….OOPS! wrong story…hahaha) Christine then placed herself at the paino while Erik dried the dishes she had cleaned. She began touching notes and finding the notes for "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".
Erik was silently laughing at the joy on her face when she succeded. She began on "Mary Had A Little Lamb" and he went to go do his evening necessities. Christine, after playing various nursery rhymes, went to go see Erik. He wasn't in the kitchen, the dining room, the music room, by the lake or in the bathroom. She began to check the bedroom only to find Erik lighting candles around the room. There was a beautiful nightdress, not too revealing, but just enough to drive Erik mad with lust on the bed, and Erik wasn't wearing a shirt.
No shirt. She reveled in this fact, remembering nights of deep-fire passion. How she had clinged to these shoulders in times of need. She noticed how Erik came to her with a bemused expression, and offered her a red rose. She smiled at the black ribbon, then sat down, remembering the feeling of doom when she received one of these. He took this badly, and began to leave. Christine got up quickly, and sang softly.
Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight,
I need help believing you're with me tonight.
My wildest dreamings could not foresee,
Lying beside you, with you haunting me.
And just for this moment, as long you're mine,
I've lost all resistance, and crossed the borderline.
And if turns out, it's over too fast, I'll make every last moment last,
As long you're mine.
Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise,
But you've got me seeing through different eyes.
Somehow I've fallen under your spell,
And somehow I'm feeling, the stuff that I found!
Every moment, as long as you're mine,
I'll wake up my body, and make up for lost time,
Say there's no future for us as a pair,
I know, I may know, I don't care,
Just for this moment, as long you're mine,
Could be how you want to, and see how bright we shine,
Follow the moonlight, until it is through,
And now I'll be here, holding you,
As long you're mine.
(As Long As You're Mine from Wicked)
The couple fell on the bed and slept in each others arms, each knowing a certain type of bliss one only dreams about.
Three days passed, and Christine wanted to go and do something for once. Erik softly agreed and put on his mask. He felt people's stares boring upon him, and wanted to run away. However, Christine's iron grasp on his hand made it easier to handle it. They didn't know him, therefore could not judge him. Damn Christine. She was getting into his better judgment. He grumbled something about women that made Christine laugh. The days went pleasantly by, and by afternoon, Christine stopped by a music shop when Erik dragged her in.
She began looking over scores of opera, when she saw a pretty saleswoman flirting unabashedly at Erik. Christine grew jealous, but knew that if she was letting another man get in between them, then Erik could flirt with other woman, know other women, and even…make love to other women. The last one made her feel horribly insignificant. Making love to Erik was the best memory of her life. To see him doing it with another girl would kill her.
She let the girl flirt until she gave him her address to go talk about the latest in music styles. She told him ANYTIME would be fine. Christine's nerves were done, and she walked out the store, leaving behind a wonderful score of music by Celtic artists. She made her way to the jewelry store, knowing Erik would never think to find her here. He was much too afraid to linger where couples spent their time in. Even Christine had agreed that she hated going alone. However, this was needed. She gazed at the rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.
She only saw one thing she really loved. A rose pendant, hanging from a silver chain, had a black ribbon around its stem. Inside the ruby rose, there was a small diamond, shining above all others. She took out the rest of her money, and bought it. She attached it around her neck, and ran off into the street. It had begun to rain, and she walked through it to the back entrance of the Opera Populaire. Erik was back, and crying.
She took out the necklace and showed him. He glanced at her happily, convinced she was back to stay with him, and he aw the rose. Christine still loved him; she was showing him with the rose. He was stunned and hugged her close. No words were needed. They walked over to the bedroom, and the rest of world disappeared for the rest of the week.
