A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but we do meet Christine and Meg

Chapter 3: Such a Sweet Brother

The evening winter air was balmy and warm, but not uncomfortable for those in the restaurant wearing long sleeves or jackets. Everyone inside was dressed to the nines. Erik and Raoul climbed out of their limousine and strolled into the club.

"The Palais," Raoul read off the sign. "Classy."

"Indeed," Erik sniffed as he adjusted his cuff links. "You might remember the owners, you spoke on the phone with them a few times. What were their names?"

"Oh yeah," Raoul said, scratching the back of his head. "André and Firmin. Friends of my dad's I think."

"I take it your father frequents this establishment?" Erik asked and glanced down at his partner.

Raoul nodded.

"And my brother. I came here once, but that was before I joined up. Haven't been back since. There they are."

He waved at two approaching gentlemen, both well into middle age. One was taller, with grey hair, and the other was shorter, rounder, and balder (though trying to hide it with a bad comb over).

"Raoul, good to see you!" The shorter one said, shaking his hand.

"Firmin, this my business partner, you may have heard of Mr. Erik Destler," Raoul said, gesturing to Erik. André extended his hand to shake but Erik kept his hands clasped behind his back. Raoul elbowed him but he just shot him a warning glance.

"Have the Grant sisters been on yet? We got a letter from their brother, an old army friend of ours, and he wanted us to take a look at their act," Raoul said, looking around. A waitress passed and offered him a martini, which he gladly took. If Erik was going to be anti-social, he would need some alcohol.

"Not, yet. They're up next. Betty-" André said, gesturing to the hostess. "-Will get you seated."

"Thank you. Tell them we're here please," Erik said with a dry smile. Firmin barely contained a shiver and was almost glad to see the Chagny boy drag his creepy partner off.

"Sit still," Christine grumbled as she jabbed another pin into Meg's nearly perfectly coiffed hair.

"I can't when you keeping stabbing me with those. Just add more hairspray," Meg whined, shifting on the vanity stool.

"I need to use both other wise it will fall out and we'll look bad," Christine said. She set the pins down and grabbed the can of hairspray. "Close your eyes."

For once Meg listened as Christine covered her head in a cloud of aerosol. She waved the rest of it away and coughed violently after inhaling some of it.

"You're-" she hacked again, turning away. "-All set."

"Oh, thank you, Chrisy. Now sit down and I'll do yours."

They traded places as there was a knock on the door.

"It's André," a voice called. Meg and Christine exchanged a look before Meg turned and opened the door.

"Destler and Chagny are here to see your act! Your brother wrote to them and asked them to come check out your act and give you a few pointers," he said.

Christine couldn't decide if he tone was excited or anxious. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and waited for the girls reactions. She glanced at Meg who was pouring herself some tea. Something about one of those names tugged at her mind but she couldn't place it. She'd met so many people over the years the names and faces had started to blend together.

"Destler and Chagny? For us? Isn't Jimmy a good brother?" Meg asked, not looking at Christine.

"He is," she said with a shaky smile. "A wonderful brother. Thank you André."

"No problem," he said, shutting the door behind him. Christine crossed her arms and turned back to the mirror, watching as Meg bustled around, finishing getting herself ready and cleaning up the room.

"I can't believe Destler and Chagny are here to see us," Meg sighed as she came to a halt to finish Christine's hair. "What a surprise."

"It is," Christine sighed as she helped Meg take out the curlers she had in to help smooth out her naturally curly hair.

"Jimmy is too good to us. Such a sweet brother," Meg continued, pining the front of Christine's hair back.

"Yes. Such a nice boy," Christine murmured in agreement. She fluffed the curls in the back a little before handing the hairspray to Meg and closing her eyes.

"It was so good of him to use his army connections," Meg said, setting the hairspray down after applying a generous coat to Christine's dark chocolaty curls. "For his little sisters."

"Mmhmm, I wonder what gave him the idea," Christine hummed as she stood up. She turned to face Meg, who was playing with collar of her dress, avoiding Christine's gaze.

"He probably knew we would be here at the same time as Destler and Chagny," Meg said, feebly as she stepped into her pumps.

"Did you read Mother's letter this morning?"

Meg looked up in surprise. "A letter?"

"Yeah. Jimmy's working in Australia. He's been out of the country for six months now," Christine said, tugging on a pair of satin gloves that matched her dress.

"Really? I had no-"

"Meg, Jimmy didn't write that letter did he?" Christine asked, even though she thought she already knew the answer.

"No. I did," Meg admitted, finally cracking. "I wrote the letter. We've been on the road for so long, I thought maybe we could settle down with a show and not have to pay for our own accommodations and whatnot anymore. It'll be good for business. And, they're rich bachelors. It wouldn't hurt to try."

"I told you we don't need help with money," Christine snapped, perhaps more harshly than she meant to.

"I know," Meg said defensively, hoping Christine wouldn't remember all the guys whom Meg had been sending her way after the performances. Unfortunately for her, that's exactly what Christine was thinking about.

"Just tell me first next time," Christine relented, giving Meg a kiss on the forehead. "I just worry about you."

"You don't have to," Meg grumbled. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Alright," Christine said, not entirely convinced. She always worried about Meg, even when she knew she didn't have to. Her adopted sister had grown up in New York. She would run into oncoming traffic without fear, but Christine preferred to hold someone's hand while crossing the road.

"Really," Meg said with a deep sigh. She put her arm around Christine's waist and smiled. "I'm doing just fine. Sometimes you're like a mother hen, herding her chicks around."

"Well sometimes the chicks need herding. Until someone else comes and is better at herding chicks than I am, I'm staying close to the coop," Christine said.

"Five minutes, ladies!" Firmin's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Thank you," they called in sync. Christine squinted at herself in the mirror, trying to find any stray hairs or clumps of mascara that might have escaped her notice.

"You look beautiful," Meg reassured her. "He's going to be following you around like a lost puppy by the end of the night."

"Which one?" Christine asked with a giggle. "There are two of them."

"Does it matter?" Meg shrugged. "They're both famous."