A/N: Thanks to BabyNake, sharp52092, peanutpup, and ClaryF for the reviews on the last chapter! They are very appreciated!

When Erik reached toward her as though he intended to embrace her, Christine felt herself snap out of the dreamlike state that had overtaken her since the moment she saw him standing next to her on the balcony. Jerking away before he could touch her, she stepped back, inadvertently tripping on the chair behind her. Unable to catch herself after her sudden movement, Christine fell all the way to the ground.

Lying on the floor, the idea crossed her mind of simply staying there for a while and crying over everything that had just happened, but within seconds Erik was kneeling next to her, tentatively reaching a hand out toward her.

"Christine, are you all right?" he asked, the concern in his voice obvious.

Turning her head, she looked up at him. On the dark balcony, with only the low light from inside the suite spilling out, Erik's eyes seemed to glow with that strange yellow gleam she remembered from what seemed a lifetime ago now.

"Fine," she replied, brushing his hand away, pushing herself to her feet.

Erik reached for the chair she had knocked over, setting it upright and gesturing toward it. "Here, sit, please."

Still feeling a little light-headed, and unwilling to argue with him over something so inconsequential when her mind was starting to race with all the implications of seeing him again, Christine sat, while Erik knelt next to her chair, his masked face lit by the glow of the lights from the suite.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, before she finally broke the silence. "Erik, what are you doing here?" In a distant part of her mind, Christine knew she was severely underreacting to finding Erik on her balcony, but between a combination of what felt like shock and the suspicions she'd already had, she felt numb as she looked at him.

When he merely stared back at her, she started to think more clearly. "Wait, how did you get out here? Were you in our suite?"

Obviously sensing her growing panic, Erik raised his long hand in a placating manner, holding it up in front of her. "No! I - it's not what you think, Christine. I live here. I own this hotel, actually."

Staring back at him blankly, Christine repeated doubtfully, "You own this hotel?"

"Yes. Along with Nadir."

Thinking this over, Christine allowed her gaze to travel away from him, glancing around the space in front of her. "Okay, assuming that you're telling the truth, that still doesn't explain how you got out here, on our balcony. This is our private space, Erik."

Obviously sensing that she was becoming agitated, Erik stood up slowly and walked over to the wall that stood to the left side of the balcony. Reaching up, he hit a spot that must have contained a hidden mechanism, because when he did so a door slid open.

"This leads to my suite, Christine. This is how I got out here."

"That doesn't make it any better," she countered, but already her mind was racing ahead to other concerns. "So, what did you have to do with me coming here? I guess I can assume you're behind that, too?"

Shifting, he glanced away. "Well, yes, I donated enough to the Opera to ensure that you couldn't refuse their offer, but it was a genuine one, Christine. They were thrilled to have you here."

Looking up at him, almost pleadingly but not sure what it was she was hoping to hear, Christine asked, "Then how long were you going to wait to tell me you were here? Why was this such a secret?"

Dropping his head as though in defeat, Erik said quietly, "I never intended to tell you, Christine. I merely wanted to hear you sing again. You have no idea how it's been for me without having you for a muse. I haven't been able to compose in years, until you arrived here."

Holding in her hurt gasp at his words, Christine rose from her chair and went to stand at the railing of the balcony, turning her back toward Erik so the hurt caused by his words wouldn't be apparent. Even after everything he had done, hearing confirmation that she had meant so little to him brought a burn to her eyes and to her heart. Just a short time ago she had been telling herself that Erik would be more likely to have died than to have stayed away from her for so long, and now here he was telling her he didn't care if they had never spoken again, as long as he had her voice to inspire him.

Unbidden, words spilled from her mouth. "So that's it, then? You never cared about me as a person, did you, Erik? It's always just been about my voice. You've never thought about how your actions might affect me, have you?" Christine hated the bitter tone of her voice, but she was unable to control it in the face of the painful truth of Erik's feelings for her - and, to make things even worse, there was absolutely no reason she should care what he thought of her anyway, not that her heart seemed to recognize that fact at the moment. "I suppose I should have known when you left me in your apartment without even a note to say goodbye."

"No!" she heard Erik say forcefully as he crossed the balcony, coming to stand behind her. "Christine, I left you that night for the same reason I didn't intend to let you know I was here - to spare you from having to tell me you wanted nothing to do with me! I love you - I've always loved you!"

Whirling around to face him, she peered up at him incredulously. "Love me? You think leaving me without a word after we had sex was a good way to show me you loved me?"

At the stricken look in Erik's eyes, Christine exhaled, suddenly exhausted. Tired of holding back, she let the truth spill out. "I loved you, Erik. I loved you so much, but you didn't even give me a chance to show you. You just decided for us that we were over before we even had a chance to begin."

At her declaration, his already incredibly upright posture became even straighter. "And now? Is there still a chance, Christine?"

Stunned, her mouth dropped open. It seemed that in the five years they had been apart, she had forgotten the twists and turns present in any interaction with Erik. "What do you mean, now? You couldn't possibly think there could still be a 'now' for us, do you?"

At her words, his shoulders seemed to hunch slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the glass door to the balcony slid open just enough for her son's small body to slip through. Not looking at Erik, Gustave exclaimed, "Mommy!" in a tearful voice before he ran to Christine as she knelt down to wrap her arms around him.

xxxxx

"What's the matter, baby?" Christine asked as Gustave let out a sob in her arms as she embraced him.

"I had a bad dream," he mumbled against her shoulder in a sad little voice that broke her heart.

Ignoring Erik, Christine led Gustave over to the chair she had been sitting in earlier, pulling him into her lap after she sat down. Holding him tightly, she stroked his soft brown hair as she hummed a lullaby to him, not stopping until his crying had quieted all the way down.

After he was settled, she kissed his forehead. "Do you feel better now, love?"

"Yeah," he responded in a quiet voice.

"Why don't you go pick out a book, and then we'll read until you fall back asleep, okay?"

"Okay," Gustave responded after a long pause. "That sounds good."

When she lifted him off her lap to stand next to the chair, Christine saw his gaze land on Erik. Seeing how wide her son's eyes were, Christine spoke quickly before he got frightened again.

"But first, darling, I want you to meet my...friend."

Inwardly cringing at such a mild choice of words to describe everything she and Erik had been to each other - to say nothing of his biological connection to Gustave himself - Christine pushed on, wanting to reassure her son.

"Gustave, this is Mr. Destler. He owns this hotel, actually," she added somewhat weakly as her son took one look at Erik and turned sideways to hide his face against her leg.

Looking at Erik almost pleadingly, Christine could tell just from his body language that he wished he was anywhere but where he was at the moment. Knowing how sensitive Erik was to rejection, she was sure Gustave's reaction hadn't helped, but when she had imagined the two of them meeting for the first time in past moments of weakness, it had gone much differently than this.

Seeming to catch the look in her eyes, Erik managed an oddly formal sounding, "Hello, Gustave," that just made her son press his face even harder into her leg.

Suddenly a slight inspiration hit her. "Gustave, I don't know for sure, but I have a hunch that Mr. Destler probably made your music box, you know."

Erik cleared his throat. "That's true, I did."

That piece of information was enough to entice Gustave to turn his face and look at Erik for a moment. Turning back to Christine, he said quietly, "I like it."

Seeing Erik's lips curve just slightly underneath his black mask, Christine decided that this was the best the situation was likely to get, and guided Gustave to the door.

"Go pick out your book, honey, and I'll be there in a few minutes, as soon as Mr. Destler and I are finished with our business meeting, okay?" she instructed him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead.

Watching as Gustave padded across the room to his bedroom, Christine heard Erik stir behind her. Dreading what he might say, she turned to face him, and saw that he was looking at Gustave through the window as well.

"He seems like a wonderful child, Christine."

Stiffening, feeling slightly defensive at Erik's sincere and slightly wistful tone for reasons she couldn't entirely understand, Christine agreed tightly, "He is," before Erik's next words completely derailed her train of thought.

"So where is de Chagny, then?" he asked, sounding almost angry.

Taken aback by Erik's sudden change of subject, Christine answered, "Um, he's in Paris. He and his wife just had a baby, actually."

Before she could ask why he would care to know anything about Raoul, Erik turned from her suddenly and strode over to the balcony. Seeming to be staring at the mountainside in front of him, Christine heard him mutter, "That fool," under his breath before continuing more loudly, "Please tell me that he is at least doing right by you and your son, Christine. If he is not, I have some words for him."

Christine could only be grateful that Erik had his back to her, because her mouth had fallen open in shock at his statement. The irony of Erik theoretically chastising Raoul for the very thing he had done for Gustave's entire life was so great that Christine didn't know if she wanted to yell at Erik or laugh at him. Just before she could tell him exactly what she thought of him, though, the full implication of his words hit her and she snapped her jaw shut again.

Turning to the balcony herself, Christine stood so that she was facing slightly away from Erik, not trusting herself to be able to hide her reactions if he happened to turn toward her suddenly. For whatever reason, Erik seemed to assume that Raoul was Gustave's father. Christine needed to think about this new information some more, preferably when Erik wasn't around to distract her. She needed to try to make the right choices for her son's future, and she certainly wasn't thinking clearly enough to do that at the moment.

"I don't want to talk about Raoul right now," she prevaricated, and thankfully Erik let the subject drop.

"Very well," he agreed. "Perhaps we should talk about your plans for your gala performance, then, Christine."

"My plans?" she echoed blankly. Trying to keep up with Erik's changes of topic in the conversation really was becoming exhausting, she reflected as she turned to stare at him incredulously.

"Why on earth would you think I would discuss my plans for anything with you, Erik? I'm much closer to leaving in the morning and never coming back after what I've learned tonight."

The only reaction Erik gave to her statement was a slight tightening of his shoulders, but Christine could tell she had gotten to him, and for a brief moment she enjoyed the feeling, meaningless though it was. However, Erik's reaction had always been to attack when he felt backed into a corner, and of course this was no exception.

"What do you mean, Christine? You have a contract."

"Right now, I don't care very much about that. You brought me here under false circumstances, Erik!"

"I don't see how that would have any bearing on your contract, Christine. In fact, breaking it would be very bad for you indeed, I would think."

Freezing, she stared at him. "Is that a threat?" she asked hoarsely.

"A threat? Reminding you of a legal obligation is hardly a threat, my dear. It's simply a fact that if you renege on your contract, you'll cost yourself a huge sum of money, and that's to say nothing of the damage such a thing will do to your professional reputation. Why, your career might never recover."

Turning from him again so Erik wouldn't see the angry tears that his words had brought to her eyes, Christine stared silently at the view before her as she wrestled with the fact that, as much as she hated to admit it, Erik was right. Was she really going to jeopardize everything she had worked for? She had more than just herself to think of, after all.

Steeling herself, she turned back to him. "You're right. I'll fulfill my contract."

When she saw Erik relax just the slightest bit in relief at her words, Christine continued, "But, that doesn't mean I need to see or talk to you, Erik."

Now he turned from her before speaking. "No, that's true, Christine. You don't have to see me at all if you choose not to."

Erik hesitated just long enough for Christine to wonder if this was truly going to be that easy, but of course she should have known that when it came to Erik, nothing ever was.

"However, think of the opportunity in front of you, in front of us."

When she gave an outraged gasp at his words, Erik pivoted to face her, one long hand held up in the air. "I'm strictly speaking professionally, creatively, Christine."

Against her better judgement, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I did for your voice before, Christine. Why squander this opportunity to work with your old teacher? And you also know you inspire my composing like nothing else ever has. We can help each other, improve each other. Please, Christine?"

Filled with a confused longing for exactly what Erik was describing, Christine returned his searing gaze helplessly. Wanting nothing more than to agree to become his student once more, if only for the summer, she managed to restrain herself from instantly agreeing. Just like the situation with Gustave, she needed to think about this when Erik was not standing in front of her.

"I...don't know." After pausing for a moment, she continued, "I'll have to think about it before I make any final decisions, but if you want, you can come to my rehearsal on Monday. We can see how it goes, and decide from there if we want to proceed or not."

When Erik quickly nodded in agreement, Christine quickly added, "That is, if you leave me alone between now and then. If I see any sign of you being out here again before then, I will leave, contract or no."

Erik paused for a long moment before inclining his head in a single slow nod of agreement. "Very well. I will see you Monday, Christine."

Hating how bitter her voice sounded as he turned to walk away, Christine couldn't resist commenting, "I'm sure you already know the time, so I don't need to tell you."

His lack of acknowledgement only served to increase her ire, and as he reached the doorway she hadn't known was there, Christine spoke without thinking. "Stop!"

When Erik turned back to her questioningly, Christine walked over to him and gestured at the door. "Show me how to open it."

Seeing Erik's eyes widen slightly, Christine hastened to explain. "You've had access to my balcony without me knowing about it, I want access to yours. Even if I never use it," she added, before Erik developed any foolish hopes.

Silently, he showed her where the catch to trigger the door was before stepping back to his side. When he turned to her, as though he wanted to say something more, Christine took petty satisfaction in reaching up and shutting the door without another word.

After staring at the closed door for a few seconds, Christine collected her abandoned glass of wine and returned inside, locking that door behind her in a gesture she knew was completely futile - if Erik wanted inside, it would take much more than this lock to keep him out, of course, but at least it would send a message if he went back on his word and tried to enter their suite.

Dropping the glass off on the kitchen counter, Christine moved to check on Gustave and read him the story she had promised if he was still awake. As she walked toward his room, the scene from earlier played in her head. Even though she hadn't agreed to anything more than just the one encounter, Christine felt as though she had set herself on a life-altering course, allowing Erik back into her life, no matter how limited the capacity.

If only she could determine exactly how she felt about that fact.

A/N: Well, they're talking, at least! Thank you for reading, and feel free to leave a comment!