A/N: WARNING! R RATING! Yeah, I know, I haven't updated in forever... I've been swamped in homework, you can all curse and swear at my teachers for delaying my lovely little story. Anyway, If you don't like scenes with sexual content, then exit right now! Otherwise, I really hope you don't hate this, I've never done this kind of writing before... and I'm a bit worried. Please read and Review, I need your reviews, without them, my world is just so empty (:p)

Diclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of it's characters... DAMN IT! IT NEVER GETS ANY EASIER! walks off whistling (You have to see the South Park movie to get this joke)

Kristen stepped only as far as the shadows, and then she turned to watch the others walk towards their awaited meals. She sighed, what would happen if Erik found out that Christine was back? She had the urge to hide him away and never let him find out, but that wouldn't work. Erik was far too clever to allow something as important as Christine's return to pass him by without notice.

She watched as they all laughed, making cheer as if the Populaire was already on it's feet again, Christine looked happiest of them all. Kristen leaned against a marble stone pillar, and sighed. If only she was half as beautiful as Christine, perhaps she would be with child by now... over the course of the past few days, the prospect of motherhood seemed to occupy her thoughts more than ever. As she watched this scene of delight, she held her stomach. Would a child ever grace her life?

As she entered the darkness of box 5, she quickly discovered his absence. Where was he now? Did he leave before or after Christine arrived? Sudden panic began to take over her calm demeanour, and she quickly left the box, rushing down the dreary tunnels towards the lair, as quickly as her feet would allow her. But as she scurried through the corridors, she could once again hear the festive sounds of the de Chagnys, the Girys, and M. Armande. She had not an answer for why M. Firmin was missing.

She came to an abrupt halt, stopping before the small ray of light which seemed to pierce it's way through the dark. How clever, she thought. Upon peering out through this hole, she realized that her eye was not detected by the people she so easily observed. It was purposely arranged there, the eye of a portrait cut out to allow the man... or in this case, woman, to view the activities of this dining room from behind it. Erik was a genius, Kristen thought with a mischievous little grin controlling her lips, as she eavesdropped on the behaviours of her friends and enemies. He must have millions of these situated throughout the Populaire.

"We were married instantly after!" Kristen watched Raoul declare with happiness.

"Did you not have intentions to go to sea?" Madame Giry asked with ready curiosity. Raoul shook his head no at her,

"Do you think I could go to sea so soon after making Christine my wife?"

Christine smiled. Everything was perfect... the Populaire would be restored, and Erik was dead, right? Wrong, Kristen thought, speculating the contents of what must have been going through Christine's head at this hour.

"I am very happy everything turned out the way it should have. That ghastly Opera Ghost will never haunt these walls again." Madame Giry proclaimed. Of course she knew that Erik lived... but she was quite content with keeping that a secret.

M. Armande seemed to choke on his red wine at these words. All of them directed their attention to him, and Madame Giry glared mad fire his way, warning him with her evil stare that if he should expose the secret of the Opera Ghost, he would not have lungs to breathe with in the morning. Who, after all, had sent those blueprints, other than Erik himself?

It was quite evident that Christine's spirits were rather lowered over the memory of Erik. Ghastly? She sighed lightly, and waited patiently for the food to be served.

There was already a lump forming in young Meg's throat. How long would this dinner last? and how would Christine react to the knowledge of Erik's survival?

Kristen watched with disgust as the food was brought in. Her own stomach was torturing her now with hunger, she had not eaten throughout the entire day, and most of the day previous. She would not be the only person to go hungry in the theatre that day. The de Chagnys were rich, were they not? Couldn't they have gone out to eat?

"I think it would be appropriate to leave such... talk... out of the conversation." Raoul interfered, taking Christine's hand softly and leaning over to her. In a whisper, he asked, "My dear, are you going to be ok?" She only nodded to him,

"It shouldn't be kept a secret. Everyone knows of the incidents which led to the unfortunate collapse of the Opera. We all must realize as well, that it was he who set me free. It was a kindness he did not have to bestow upon me, but did. We should not look down upon such a tortured soul, he suffered far greater than I did while under his capture."

Everyone at the table listened to this former Opera singer in amazement. How could she be so kind towards a man who'd committed so many crimes? Madame Giry watched her with a fondness she only rarely showed her best ballet dancers. Christine was the purest of women, in her opinion.

Kristen could watch no longer. It was bad enough that Armande nearly blurted out the well hidden truth, but Christine spoke of Erik as if she defended him... as if he was somehow in her heart. She turned from her place of survey to head back down through the tunnel. After seeing Christine Daae, or de Chagny, or whatever the hell she was called, she could not stop comparing herself to her. She was ugly... she thought, compared to this queen of beauty.

After braving the mazes and hidden chambers of the opera house, Kristen finally found her way to that familiar mirror passage. She must have spent ages in the dark, contracting all sorts of cob webs, dust and dirt, which would make her lovely red gown as filthy as a wash cloth. She didn't care, at this point. She wanted to rid herself of these clothes any way, dress in something a little less formal, and return to her silk heaven, and sleep away her hunger and worry. Of course, sleep never cured hunger, but worry... perhaps.

She opened the glass gateway, and was puzzled to find that nothing was where it was supposed to be. The desk, the organ, the exquisite items of furniture, everything was scattered about as if preparations were being made to move to a new location. Surges of trepidation coursed through her veins as she searched frantically through her worried eyes for any sign of Erik, when a noise, as loud as noise could possibly be, startled her right out of her skin.

An enormous sigh of relief was pushed out through her lips as she heard the curse words that followed. Obviously Erik had thrown something to the ground, in frustration, at whatever he was doing.

"Erik?" Kristen called, listening to her voice repeat itself throughout the winding tunnels of the lake. She further entered this underground realm which she now called her home, looking for him. Eventually she came to approach her room. Upon entering, she heard that familiar loud clank once more, which she now recognized to be the sound of metal against stone.

"Erik?" She asked softly, she could barely see in this darkness. She heard him scurry to a standing position, hadn't he heard her before? His breath even betrayed frustration, obviously the result of spending too much time fidgeting with whatever it was he was trying to build, or disassemble. "Erik, what are you doing?" She asked, in a drowsy and tired voice. Her excursions throughout the theatre were remarkably trying to the poor girl, who'd spent much of the past few months either in bed, or not far from one.

"You sound exhausted Kristen... and I expected you to remain with the Giry's. They seemed more than willing to accommodate you."

"Why would I want to stay with them, when I can stay here with you?" she asked, but obviously the real reason behind her lack of interest in remaining above ground was the return of Christine and Raoul... but she would not tell him that. "Besides, they had visitors, palpably the same visitors which claimed the dinner of several staff members tonight."

"Who were the visitors?" Erik requested.

Kristen knew it would be unwise to pause now. Without thinking too long, she said the first thing that her wearied mind came to, "I don't know, I've never seen them before." Well, she couldn't be accused of lying, that was for sure. "What are you trying to do in here?" she besought.

Erik was completely silent. She shrugged in lack of interest, she would not beg for answers, despite her longing to know them. She removed her clothes, completely indifferent to the fact that she was naked before him. Soon after, she retrieved the same gown which she had placed delicately over the head board of the bed many hours earlier, and let it slide from her head to cover the rest of her figure. Without uttering another word, she filled the empty bed with her tired mass, though, she did not allow herself sleep just yet.

"Am I inaudible?" she asked,

"I'm sorry, Kristen." He said, moving to her bedside. She looked up at him as he loomed over her, clad in continuous black. "It is for you, all of it." he said.

"What is for me?" She asked with mock innocence. She didn't know what was getting into her, but she somehow felt herself growing angry at the thought that Erik had once loved the beautiful Christine... no, not angry, jealous. She was normally not a very jealous woman, but who could blame her here?

He frowned, "Is something wrong?" he asked. Still he didn't answer her question, and she was growing more frustrated with each proceeding moment that he did not. She could take it no longer, she removed herself from the bed and made her exit through the threshold of curtains.

Erik frowned, she was on the brink of insanity... or perhaps the rumour of women being a little nuts during certain parts of the month was not myth. She walked up to the mirror passage, and just as he was about to greatly dread the prediction of seeing her open the door and leave, she stopped before the mirror. He watched as she examined her face, touching over every scar which violated her brow.

No wonder he doesn't want me, she thought to herself. Perhaps she knew a little more of what Meg had been feeling earlier than Meg believed. Erik came up from behind her,

"Kristen, I want you to tell me what is bothering you, right now."

"Tell me what you are doing in here first. Why is everything moved around as if you are planning to leave, huh?"

He closed his eyes. His thoughts concerning her impossible personality had not strayed far from the truth, and the whole time that she graced his life she proved his observations correct.

"I heard everything you said in the auditorium, Kristen." He said.

She froze. Everything? Would that include her conversation with Christine? Did he know that the terrible woman was back? He was planning to leave! She concluded. He was leaving because she was back and he did not want the pain of having to see her with Raoul. She knew she was jumping to extreme resolutions, but this could not be helped. Tears came instantly to her gorgeous dark eyes as she looked up at him, "Are you leaving?" she asked in a pitiful whisper.

"Leaving?" He replied with a degree of laughter. The state of the lair certainly looked that way, but by no means was that even a possibility. He couldn't understand where she was getting this totally ridiculous notion anyway. "Where would you get that idea?"

"Well look at the place, you've completely torn it apart! and... what do you mean by you heard me?" she asked.

He turned her to face him, and with both hands on her shoulders, he endeavoured to answer her questions.

"I truly hope that what you said to Madame Giry was true."

She couldn't take it any more. Nowhe was beating around the bush and she was finding it unbearable. "What? that I LOVE YOU?" She lashed out. She angrily shoved him away from her and walked back towards her bedroom. This was becoming an endless pursuance, and it was hurting her more and more each time she had to think about it.

"What has got into you" he basically hissed at her, blocking her entrance, and staring into her eyes with an enraged, confused gaze. "You act like you no longer possess a right mind."

"So it is with knowing how I feel that you pack up and leave? I love you Erik, I..." she covered her scars, "It's not a wonder you have been so distant from me, my appearance could never exceed that of Christine's beauty." Instantaneously she felt herself being pushed against the walls of the stone domain, though she expected to be slammed against it's unfriendly surface, not treated with his high level of care.

"I don't want you to even think about her" he hissed, "She's gone,"

"Not from your heart, she's not" She countered, "From what Meg says,Christine is the most beautiful woman alive, no doubt after seeing her your chances of being attracted to another are altogether ruined."

He sighed, "What is making you think these things?" He growled, but in his eyes she could see the concern... he was so complex it was confounding. She wanted to wipe away the tears which flowed stubbornly down her cheeks, but his hands, which held her arms, prevented her from doing so.

She found she couldn't speak. She worried she wouldn't be able to. Looking up into his eyes, she could almost see her empty future, within their emerald flame. Just when she thought she'd found forever, one woman was returning to take that all away from her. Shock waves of fear streamed through her, maybe those three simple words would have been more reassuring to her than his metaphor of fondness.

He waited for her explanation, with similar tones of worry burdening his heart.

Before she said another word, she reached up and removed his mask. At once he grabbed it from her,

"Why must you do that?" he angrily interrogated.

"Because I hate when you wear it." She blurted out, "I'm not seeingyou when you wear it, all I am seeing is your hatred towards yourself. I love you... I love you, and I want us to part never," The poor girl was soon racked with sobs, "More and more I want to know that you feel the same way for me, but you don't say it, and you don't show it, and now you're moving things around like you're going to leave forever, and I don't know what to do Erik, I'm so afraid... you mock my dreams like they areso bloody hilarious, what does that mean? Shall we never marry? Shall I never bear your children?" She completely broke down. Her words near the end had gradually increased to desperate cries. Everything she had wanted to say, was said. All that was left for her was the inevitable. He would tell her that it was never meant to be.

Her head gently tilted back to rest lightly against the wall. Her dark eyes were closed, and she tried. Oh how she tried to hold in her crying, but this was a feeling which controlled her emotions, destroyed her self control, and completely tore her to pieces inside.

Erik nearly cried himself, watching her like this. These fears which she exposed were the very picture of what he'd spent his whole life feeling, and this was certainly not the over- reactions of a lovesick little girl. Any woman who pleads to her companion this way is far beyond lovesick. Somehow, he knew, this had something to do with the enhancing marks upon her flesh, marks which by no means took from her outstanding beauty.

"Have I not made it clear that I love you?" he told her, his voice nothing more than a whisper, his hand leaving her arms to softly caress her cheek.

She strove to hold back her sobs, making them come out only as far as they could before she stopped them, causing a jolting her chest region, enough to tell him that she was still crying, inside.

"Is it her memory, which contaminates our love?" she asked, her crying eyes not parting with his.

"Kristen, you know the reason for our... lack of passion."

"I do, and I don't understand it. You claim to have fears about never having children, and yet you deny me? What is the real reason behind your, lack of passion?" She asked coldly.

"Thatis the reason behind our lack of passion. Is it what you want? to be poisoned with the seed of a monster?" He demanded from her, nearly shaking her now by the shoulders.

"Poisoned by the seed of a monster? Erik!... why do you do this to me? You are not a monster! Your self hatred hurts me more than it hurts you!"

"You don't know what you're asking,"

"I do for heaven's sake! and you give me every reason to believe that I am simply not enough to satisfy you."

All was silent from there on. Tears were flowing ceaselessly from her bloodshot eyes, she was already exhausted from the day's trials, and now she had this to add to her lassitude. "I wish for your child Erik," She confided, "More and more I've desired to be a mother, and your wife. Will you ever see me as your wife?... Erik?" She asked.

Had he not been planning to improve their living quarters, and had the organ not been buried under a pile of ominous things, he would have probably took refuge from this situation in his music. His music which was always there before to calm his sadness or rage, was out of reach this moment. "My wife" he said, his hand roaming from her shoulder to her neck, gently fondling her delicate skin.

She was gently pushed backwards into the darkness of the bedroom, all her anger quickly drowned by her weary state. His lips came down to meet hers, in a soft and loving kiss. "You know that I love you Kristen," he whispered to her.

The tears which formerly marred her fair skin were gone from her now, though the evidence of their presence was still quite obvious.

"I love you," he whispered once more, as if he worried she had not heard him. She stared up into his beauteous eyes, she could fall for miles in their deepness. She was completely consumed when his lips met hers once more, only now their kiss was far deeper, with far greater passion than the first. She was lifted from the floor, and carried to the bed, it's softness welcoming her as he laid her feminine mass to rest upon it's heavenly comfort. Not five seconds later, she could feel his presence with her in the beautiful swan bed.

He could not understand what it was that made her so upset, and to see her cry like that was almost unendurable. It was true, he did wish to be a father, but never in his wildest dreams could he believe that there was a woman out there who would willingly bear him a child. He did love her, God how he loved her, he would not allow her to feel the same emptiness which had dwelt within his heart for so long. If she wanted to be a mother, he would grant her that, for he in all truth, wanted the same thing for her.

She only wore that gown, loose was it's fabric. It was hardly a barrier to be conquered. She could feel his skin warming her, and she knew that this pursuit of hers had been pushed to it's limit, and ultimately she had come out the victor.

"You know about the pain?" He asked her, and she softly nodded. Without a doubt she was a virgin, but it was unavoidable that someday it would be taken from her. She was nervous, as anyone would be, but her love for him was stronger than that.

She could feel him carefully pressing his muscular form to hers, his lips taking her's in a series of fervent kisses. When had he discarded his clothing? So caught up in the moment she was, that she did not even realize. Her arms locked around his neck as she returned this affection, anticipating the moments to come, and wondering just how unpleasant this first time would be.

His hand moved to the skirts of her gown, slowly lifting it above her legs... above her knees, stopping just before she had the chance to think that this would be over with quickly. Her eyes could not have left his now for the life of her, she watched him impatiently. What was he doing? Something within her was hating him for stalling, her blood was boiling, racing with the anticipation, the knowledge that this moment was finally here. All of her adolescent curiosities were about to be extinguished, all of her questions answered, all her momentary desires fulfilled.

His kisses were almost too seductive, the way he rested between her parted legs was almost unbearable. A strange heat was generated from within her, he still refused to proceed? "Erik," She whispered softly between kisses, she could feel his hand exploring the regions of her torso, her thighs, torturing her with his touch, which glided over her as if the sight of her bare skin was the single most appealing thing he'd ever seen. His desire for her was physically evident, she could feel him against her. What he had just caused within her was almost spectacular in itself, and he had only touched her.

"Kristen," his breath warmed her flesh as he whispered, the very sensation beckoning her breath to increase. His touch continued it's torment, the very feeling sent her body into different motions, reacting to the way she seemed to beg for his entry. Just when she thought she could take it no longer, the gown which she wore was removed from her, and soon after, she felt him gently thrust into her, and penetrate the barrier which formerly labelled her a virgin.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, muffling the cry she so desperately craved to emit, but as soon as the pain was there, it was gone, ending mere seconds after it's unpleasant arrival. All that was left, was him, and the fullness he seemed to fulfil her with. She held her hands to his broad shoulders, and back, tracing his masculine form as he halfway withdrew from her and thrust into her a second time, bringing forth from her a silent gasp. The heat she produced grew stronger as he continued to move within her, her breath increasing and her mind losing all thought. These moments of passion were not even close to the stuff of petty dreams or fantasies. No fake illusion could have possibly compared to this sort of genuineness, this sort of love.

She could feel his breath warming her skin as it in turn increased, both of them savouring the feelings they created within each other. Her hips soon raised forward towards him. As the pace of their passion was increased, outcries of fire escaped through her lips, cries which could not be held in. She had not intended to make so much sound, but what he made her feel was taking ultimate control. This unimaginable act of love persisted for some time. She completely yielded to his movements, and was thoroughly consumed by his presence within her. Their rapidity was built to an extreme level, both of them reaching climax in almost perfect unison, gasping, crying out, expressing passion which could not be held back.

For some time afterwards, he remained above her, using the bedding around her to support his weight. Her hair was matted to her forehead, beads of sweat lingered on her soft, beautiful skin. The very sight of her beneath him was almost ravishing.

When she felt him move to lay beside her, she quickly forced herself into his arms. She could have cried. Nothing she had ever felt, could even compare to what he could make her feel. She would never be able to express to him in words the love she felt for him, and if she could figure out a way to show him, she would.

He was just as unbelieving as she was, about what they'd just done together. He did not deserve her, he knew he would be telling himself this every day for the rest of his life with her, but he would never let her go willingly.