A/N- Thanks to the reviewers…hopefully this will be a little easier to read than the disjointed short chapters. I am trying to get inside E/C's minds as PONR was being performed. Course I plan to change the end a good bit so I can diverge into my own wacky ideas. Raoul will eventually find his way back into the story. I mean he can't sit outside a locked stage door forever...FYI lyrics are in italics and internal thought processes that need to be declared to faithful readers are in bold italics.

Chapter 4

Erik's intense eyes had not missed Christine's glance up, nor did he misread her look of confusion as she noticed Raoul's absence. What he was completely unprepared for was the hungry look in her eyes when she turned back to fully face him. Has she any concept of what she is truly doing? The slight smile on her parted lips answered for him and he daringly continued the melody from his libretto, from his masterpiece.

Past the point of no return- no backward glances: our games of make believe are at an end...

Erik hardly dared believe that the event unfolding in front of him was not the product of his own fertile imagination. But as he walked behind Christine, daring to let his hands run along her bare shoulders the smooth reality that was her flesh assured him this was no dream. Christine's head turned, her eyes following him, never shirking away from his cool hands.

Past all thought of "if" or "when", no use resisting. Abandon thought and let the dream descend...

At that moment Erik's own ability to resist her left. Within a heart's beat he was behind her, pulling Christine roughly against him.

What raging fire shall flood the soul?

His arms went of their own accord, around her neck, around her waist. Do you burn with this fire too Christine? Erik wondered in amazement as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. He could feel her heart pounding as his hands roamed, could feel Christine's breath fluttering.

What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us...

He allowed to the last syllable to decrescendo into a hiss as he nuzzled her ear, smelling her hair, before pulling back and moving over to stand close beside her. Taking her hands tightly in his he continued..

Past the point of no return, the final threshold. What warm unspoken secrets will we learn, beyond the point of no return?

The removal of his warmth against her back jolted Christine from her reverie. Realizing her lines were about to start, she willed her trembling limbs to be steady. Glancing up she saw Box 5 was still empty. As long as I give no signal and stay close, you will be safe my Angel. His recently sung words reverberated through her consciousness. Christine was past the point of no return, she had decided long before now. The reasons flooded back- saving her Angel from Raoul's wrath at the cemetery, being drawn to his presence at the Bal Masque, wanting to keep the sham she called an engagement a secret. He overwhelmed her, terrified her, and yet her soul would not deny him anymore. Allowing her heart to follow her soul, Christine turned to face her captor and her salvation. Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes and began to sing...

Raoul felt chills as he heard that voice. The devil himself would have such a voice. How did the monster do it? Raoul stopped his mental debate, realizing time was working against him. He turned away from the locked door, quickly retracing his steps back to the corridor and taking a left to go to the other side of the stage. His hopes plummeted as he found that entrance as secured as the last. Knowing that the only access to the stage would now be through the auditorium itself, Raoul dashed back the way he had come. Turning back right, he cursed the demon and his damned opera.

Surely Christine will give the signal, he thought as he returned to the original hallway. She must realize what is on the stage with her.

Raoul began his ascent of the stairwell when her voice rang out.

"Thank God, " he whispered, but his prayer quickly died on his lips. The timbre in her voice was as he had never heard, but the words were not of alarm. They were those he had heard in the rehearsals of Don Juan Triumphant. He broke into an unadulterated run up the stairs, rage building as he heard the erotic lyrics spilling forth from her beautiful soprano.

"By God or the devil himself", he spat as he entered the atrium and turned to the grand staircase. "This will end tonight!"

You have brought me to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence...silence.

Unaware of her fiancé listening backstage, Christine reveled in the opportunity before her. Using every ounce of training and passion that he had taught her, Christine made Aminta's lyrics speak for her own soul. Surprised at the dark timbre her voice developed, Christine never wavered her eye contact with Erik. Determined for him to understand, Christine deviated from the choreography she had so distastefully rehearse with Piangi. Choosing to now run her hand up his arm she continued,

I have come here hardly knowing the reason why

The rest of her body followed her hand as she came to lean against him. Christine saw the fire leap in his eyes. He knew the next line, how could he not? This was his creation. Her voice was his as well, she would flood him in it. Taking his hands in hers, she led him to hold her as he had that first night in his home. Freeing a hand to caress his cheek she closed her eyes and sang

In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenseless and silent.

The blatant suggestiveness overwhelmed Christine, making her wish to be off the stage. Wishing the audience gone, to be able to sing this, become this for him alone...the thoughts in her head made a seductive smile flicker on her lips as her shimmering brown eyes reopened to look upon him again. Christine turned around to face him, taking both of his hands and continued

Now I am here with you: no second thoughts. I've decided...

She lightly kissed their entwined fingers...

decided.

The motion of a guard shifting his rifle to the opposite shoulder caught the corner of Erik's vision. Amazed that he had been so easily distracted, Erik forced his consciousness to take stock of the pressing situation in the auditorium rather than remain focused on the situation eagerly pressing against him.

Knowing that the majority of the gendarmes would have a more difficult shot at the elevated balcony, Erik pulled his hands away from Christine. Following his original stage blocking, Erik turned and walked to the stage right staircase. Mentally willing himself to look nonchalant, he paused at the base of the staircase, hoping Christine would go back to the original choreography.

He steeled himself against the disappointed look on her face. Stubborn child you don't have time to pout, he mentally admonished her. As if able to read his thoughts Christine slid back into character and without missing a step reverted back to the original choreography. Turning away she began her walk to the opposing staircase.

Past the point of no return-no going back now. Our passion play has now at last begun

Christine tried to keep her frustration at bay. Of all the times for him to actually follow instructions he picks now! Here she was willingly opening herself to him and he goes back to the original blocking...No wonder he's following the instructions - he wrote them. Almost wishing for him to trip on his damned cape, Christine decided another tactic instead. Leaning over the wooden railing she caught him mid step and sang

Past all thought of right or wrong-one final question: how long should we two wait before we're one?

Seeing his mouth drop at her blatant display, Christine turned back and continued up the stairs. Erik gathered his wits and began his climb anew.

When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom?

Reaching the top of the staircase and the upper limits of her emotions simultaneously Christine faced him, hiding nothing and completed her lines..

When will the flames at last consume us?

Standing at opposite ends of the elevated balcony, Erik and Christine paused for what seemed an eternity yet could not have been more than a beat of the music.

The music, Erik wondered, is that it? Has it blemished her with its dissonance? This music could rape the senses- has it stained her soul, tarnished her somehow so that such innocence could sing with such passion? Knowing nothing else in the world but Christine and the pound of the music, he stepped forward.

The music, Christine wondered, is that it? Had this fulfilled him, were the notes enough? Ghost, genius, Angel...Erik. This music bared his every emotion. Was it enough for him to only dream or sing of the baser passions of a humanity from which he had been exiled? Knowing nothing else in the world but Erik and the pound of the music, she stepped forward.

A/N Hope this edited version works...