"Erik, this is indecent."

"I must say, even in my wildest fever dreams you never looked quite so fetching in riding trousers," he whispered hotly into her ear. A sharp tug on her waist indicated the rigging tethering her to the gimbal was secure. "While I'm not pleased with how seductive you will look to others in them, I'm afraid that is exactly the point, my dear."

"To be a distraction."

"To be fair, I could have put you in one of the acrobatic outfits. Their legs are bare." At his inflection, warmth pooled in her belly. The Colosseum was empty but for Erik and Simon, and bathed in cold moonlight from the wide-open space above. "Now," Erik circled her, stopping to adjust the sleeves on Christine's shirt – his shirt, "the ropes connecting your harness attach to the gimbal above. Simon will control the balance and length of your tether, but you control the speed and force."

"Has anyone ever done this before?"

"No, my angel. You're very brave to indulge me in this."

"I believe the correct phrase is ignorant of the repercussions." He snickered at her retort, tucking a stray lock of her hair back into her bun. "What are you going to have me do?"

All the air escaped from her lungs at the look of delight on his face. A wide, excited smile filled Erik's features, skewing his mask, "I'm going to make you fly."

For a moment, no matter how small, this man had forgotten the torment behind and before him and enjoyed all that he commanded. He was excited for this.

His arm rose to indicate her path. "You will sing the first stanza of the song here, a cappella. You must face toward the shell. It is the only way your voice will carry in the center of the ring. Once completed, the chorus will build. Start slowly, but you will run down this slope and up the ramp. The goal is for you to keep running and the force will begin your swing."

Christine gasped as an invisible tug wrenched her from the floor. Her stomach fell at the quick rush, her legs dangling three feet off the ground. Erik cursed and grabbed the harness by the lock at her waist. "Just showing her boss," Simon hollered from the darkness. At Erik's pull of the harness she was lowered back to the ground. Christine clutched his shoulders, desperate for some solid form beneath her.

"Don't worry. They all know full well if you're hurt, they die." His booming laugh echoed menacingly against the empty seats.

Simon spoke again from his hidden place, "Boss, this was your idea."

"And it will work just as intended if my strong man stays focused. Physics."

Oh great. We're putting our faith in science now. Christine hoped his mastery of science extended farther than the students who'd mulled about Montmartre during their evenings off. How anyone could think scientifically while out of their minds on laudanum, she still could not grasp.

"Let's get you in the sky." He stood behind her, both hands on her waist. "The ropes should feel snug. That's important."

He released her then, and with a deep breath she took to running down the slope of the stage and up the ramp closest to the lower seats. "Good. Just keep running."

The end of the ramp rose up before her and Christine stalled, the force of her halt jarring her off the ramp and swinging her uselessly just feet from the edge. Her face flushed in embarrassment. Silence filled her ears.

"Try again."

.

The third time was the charm. The trick was to sit into the harness, and let it begin its carry two steps before the end of the ramp. Erik had not anticipated this. She'd figured it out on her own.

The air against her body exhilarated her senses and she flung her arms out wide behind her. It really was like flying. The force of her run only got her around half the Colosseum, and she struggled as she fell from weightlessness.

At the sixth attempt, Erik suggested she try kicking her feet off the rigging poles, if she could get her footing. She missed the first one, but firmly hit the second, pushing off the pole with as much force as her leg could muster. It worked, and she made the entire circle.

"Good!" Erik exclaimed. "The goal is to make it around once and have the crew unharness you during the first fireworks. Let's try it now with music." Her limbs screamed in protest. Angling her body and staying still in the air was hard work she was unaccustomed to; however, she could not deny Erik when he was so clearly enthralled in his creation.

From a small cubby under the center stage he rolled a phonograph, placing it exactly at Christine's mark. "You'll have four bars before you start to run. Don't get distracted by the sound." The expectation in him was palpable. Never had she wanted to meet his expectations more.

He set the needle upon the record and stepped away. The chorus began and the sound carried throughout the room, passionate and booming. He counted her down the last measure and she took off into a run. She used the downward slope to sprint faster, taking as much speed with her into the ramp. She did not slow her speed on the rise. The music was too powerful for that. With her last strides she bent deep, pumping her legs hard against the ground and resting into the harness.

She didn't fly. She soared, and the music echoed around her in bombastic support. She rose with so much speed, she missed the first and second rigging completely and kicked off the third. Her acceleration carried her past her previous end point and Simon gently released her rope, until she could run again on the dirt floor. She ended a third of the way through her second spiral, right next to a trap door in the wall.

The music ended and silence filled the cavernous space.

Christine's head spun at the otherworldly perfection of the feat she'd just performed. There was nothing like it. Never in all her imaging could she have believed she was capable of something so adventurous, so defying.

She searched for Erik in the moonlit arena and saw him staking toward her.

The rush of wonder throughout her body condensed to hot need as she gazed at him. His pale skin barely contrasted with his white shirt, yet she could see the definition of his forearms where he'd rolled up his sleeves. There he was. Her love. She swallowed thickly at the sight of his open collar, the muscles of his throat highlighted in light and shadow. Christine's body throbbed at the memory of how his throat had tasted under her tongue. He looked like a warlord coming to claim his spoils.

His hand reached for her, capturing the nape of her neck and pulling her near. His lips seared her own and coaxed her into an even deeper claiming before she could wrap her arms around him. She felt the harness tug low near her thighs and groaned at the teasing pressure.

The kiss changed, deepened into something less demanding, but with no less hunger. Erik's arms pulled her close and they both inhaled at the press of her breasts to his chest. Erik released her lips. "Bravissima," he whispered against them. Her nose brushed his porcelain one. The act made him blink, and confusion filled his eyes.

"What?" Christine asked.

"Simon!"

"She's just so short, boss! I thought I'd help a guy out!" Simon had lifted Christine off the floor to balance their heights while they kissed. It was a testament to Simon's gentleness that she'd not really felt the change, though she dearly appreciated the sentiment. Christine felt Erik's body chuckle in silent laughter.

Her knees were weak when he returned her to the ground. Erik's hand began to unlatch her harness with careful movements. "We're done for this evening. Thank you, Simon."

Christine swore she heard the strong man laugh and say 'Sure you are' from the darkness. She couldn't help but giggle to herself.

"Do you laugh at me good lady?"

She could not hide her smile now. Too much passion and nervousness and delight coursed through her veins. "Never."

"Then what is so entertaining?"

At his question, Christine was forced to think of an answer. Silence would not do well; he was genuinely curious. She struggled to think through the distracting touch of his hands on her thighs. He bent to finish his task. The words came before she had a chance to think on them, "You kissed me before someone –"

"Simon is hardly someone." His lips joined his hands.

"And he jeered at you and you merely laughed." His left hand tugged at her shirt, freeing it from her pants. "I like how you are with people here." The nose of his mask ran along the top of her trousers. "I like how you are with me."

He stopped his movements and spoke into the skin of her stomach, "When there was no hope to win you, I found everyone else's slights mattered little. In America, men and women have less horror and more curiosity in their gazes, and that poison is less sour to swallow. And of course, now that you're here, now that you dare to be alone with me, to look at me without fear, now that you call me my love, I find no one else's opinions matter. Let them say what they like. I have Christine Daaé in my arms, and so the world be damned."

Christine's heart burst with wonder.

She threaded her hands through his hair, holding him close. "Erik?"

"Hmm?" he murmured.

"I think a soft bed is too far away." She felt the smile in his cheek against the center of her chest.

"Then we best get going." He rose from her, taking her hand in his. When she tried to protest, he stilled her with his finger against her lips. "You deserve a bed and nothing less. I am determined."

So long as he didn't change his mind.