What was he like before yesterday? Grumpy, right? He was cold and unwelcoming and he certainly didn't stand around with a smile on his face.

Erik was having a hard time remembering how it felt to not be the happiest person on earth. Christine was his. Christine was his and he was weightless. The only thing that could have made him happier was telling every person he saw. A living breathing angel had, by some miracle of nature, returned his affections and he desperately wanted to share that. Instead he had to plaster on a scowl that his features rejected.

One foot was tapping rapidly on the tile. He reminded himself he had only been standing there for three minutes. Three minutes and fifteen seconds. Twenty. Twenty Five. What if she had changed her mind? What if she came around that corner and said it had all been a mistake and she wasn't in her right mind and surely he hadn't thought she meant it?

Oh god. That was it. At this very moment she was planning the words that would end him. She would step around that corner, cold and clinical, and deliver those words. Words that would cut him to the core and surely cease the beating of his withering heart and-

"Hey."

Ice blue met warm brown and she was smiling. What an angel. How foolish he was.

"Hey." His scowl collapsed into a grin and he was powerless to stop it.

"Ready to go?"

"Ya."

Two steps toward the elevator. Two buttons pressed. Two metal doors slid shut with a ding. Silence. Two pairs of eyes. One hesitant glance.

They lunged for each other.

Erik's hands immediately tangled in her hair and hers wrapped around his neck. Their mouths were clumsy but earnest as they pressed against one another. She tilted her head and their noses bumped. They breathed their laughter without separating. He wanted to savor her. To take his time appreciating each detail of her mouth and the way it felt against his and the wonderful miracle of a fact that he was allowed to kiss her. But all they had were these few stolen seconds to soak each other in, ravenous.

The ding came to soon and they separated with a mutual groan. By the time the doors opened they were rearranged and standing half a foot apart, the picture of professionalism.

When they reached the car Christine hopped in the back seat. As Erik moved toward the front, she stopped him with a hushed "psst". He turned back to her, eyebrow raised.

"Just a second," she said, holding up a finger. Erik watched as she leaned against the middle console and looked at James.

"James, my good friend."

The driver turned to her with a curious look.

"You've been my amazing driver for two years now."

Always a man of few words, he nodded his agreement.

"And I'd like to think that we're friends as well. Are we friends, James?"

He raised an eyebrow but nodded again.

"Excellent. And as my friend, I'm sure I can trust you to be discreet about things I need kept discreet, can't I?"

James glanced behind them to where Erik was standing by her open door. Then back to her with a smile. Another nod.

Christine grinned. "I knew I could count on you, thank you James."

She maneuvered back into her seat, this time in the middle. She turned to Erik and patted the seat next to her. He hesitated, eyes flitting from her to the driver.

"Come on," she insisted. "My good friend James is very discreet."

He was not entirely convinced, but he was certainly not about to tell her no. He slid in next to her and closed the door. Knowing James would once again be wearing that infuriating smirk, he refused to look at him.

Christine scooted close to him before pulling out her laptop. "To the Monroe building please."

James nodded. Erik watched as Christine fired up her laptop and pulled up a word processor.

"What are you working on?" He asked as he angled his body toward her.

"Ummm my presentation."

"For?"

"The meeting I'm headed to."

He laughed. "Shouldn't you have finished that a little sooner?"

"Well I was going to finish it last night." She turned toward him. Her face was so close he could feel her breath on his lips. She lowered her voice, "But I was a little distracted."

Out of context, he knew exactly how James could misconstrue those words. But apparently they were not worrying themselves with what James thought today.

"Mmm. My bad."

She tilted her chin up and their lips brushed softly. He responded with the lightest of pressure. A teasing smile when she pulled away invited him for more. He wanted it. Badly. But the present company was making him more than a little uncomfortable. One quick shift of his eyes informed her of this and she responded with a disappointed, but understanding smile.

Christine, little devil that she was, decided to turn this into a game. For the rest of the day, her sole delight was seeing just how much she would have to tempt Erik before he would kiss her in front of James. She thought they deserved it, considering they had missed out on six months together already. And James was to be the one person they could be open with during work hours. Erik would just have to get used to it.

When they got back in the car after her meeting, she scooted a little extra close to him. He looked down at her curiously. Large eyes and a pouty lip beckoned him. He smirked as he realized what she was doing. His head gave the tiniest shake. Christine bit the corner of her lip and tilted her head. She knew she was winning when his eyes fixated on the action. He began to lean closer.

Then James did her the great disservice of honking at a car that pulled out in front of them, reminding Erik of his presence. The desire vanished from his eyes and he quickly straightened up. Christine gave a quiet growl. Erik one. Christine zero.

Later that afternoon another idea struck her. One thing Christine had learned about Erik in their months together, was that he had a weakness for cherry. Not so much the fruit itself, but anything cherry flavored. He had never actually surrendered this information. Rather it had been a long experiment on her part, testing out which treats and what flavors he would accept when offered. It was rare. But anytime he did accept something, it was cherry.

Naturally, she chose to use this to her advantage.

After lunch she made a stop at a cart selling icees. Erik, of course, ordered nothing. Her favorite was grape. She ordered cherry. Erik raised an eyebrow at this deviation.

"Changing it up today?"

"Mhm," she responded, taking a large sip of the deep red slush. She continued sipping on it until they got back in the car.

"Want some?" She asked, holding the drink out to him.

"No, thank you."

She frowned sadly. "But I thought you liked cherry?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I do…when did I tell you that?"

She shrugged, not wanting to change the subject. "Sometime awhile back." She focused on sounding small and sad again, "But that's why I got this one. To share with you."

Erik looked genuinely touched. So much so that Christine almost felt guilty for her false pretenses. But not quite guilty enough.

"Won't you at least try it?"

He looked down at the straw she held up near his mouth. "Alright…"

He leaned in to accept the offer. Right as his lips touched the straw, she pulled it away. Erik gave her a confused smile as she instead raised the straw to her own lips, taking a long sip as she stared at him.

"Mmm," she hummed, puckering her lips around the straw. Erik watched her carefully. She set the cup aside, no longer offering it to him. "Try some?"

Her mouth was tinted red and she tilted her chin up invitingly. Erik's tongue poked his cheek, eyes narrowed. For a moment, it looked as though he would win again. His mouth was in a hard line, his face stoic. That changed when Christine's tongue darted across the corner of her mouth. His jaw went slack.

The next second his hand cupped her cheek as he captured her lips hungrily. Christine smiled at her victory. Despite his initial enthusiasm he moved slowly, gently. A few seconds ticked by and she waited for him to pull away. He didn't. She didn't complain. Rather she gave a sharp intake of breath when she felt his tongue, hesitant yet searching against her lip. She gladly let him in. Their breath came a little heavier.

When Erik gave in, he certainly did so to the full. Christine endeavored to match him, responding to each tilt of his head and increase in pressure. What he lacked in practice he certainly made up for in passion. Her hand was soon skimming his thigh, climbing up and down softly. He let out a hushed groan.

Then they found themselves forced apart as the car came to an abrupt stop, their bodies lurching forward. Erik caught himself on the passenger seat, instinctively reaching his other arm across Christine.

"Whoops," James deadpanned.

One glance out the window told them there was no reason for the sudden brake check. Erik narrowed his eyes at the driver as Christine gave a flustered giggle. James was happy for the two of them, he truly was.

That didn't mean he wanted to watch them make out in his back seat.

Another evening of saying goodbye in the parking garage was soon upon them. Except this time, they sat secluded in Erik's car, and there was much less talking.

Christine quickly learned the unspoken rules surrounding Erik's mask. It didn't get in the way as long as she kept her head to the right. He did not like her to touch it. At all. At one point she did on accident, in an effort to put her hands around his head. He had pulled away with a gasp, so quickly she was stunned. It took a few moments of coaxing and assuring him she was not trying to take it off, before he relaxed again.

It made her insanely curious. But she was completely resolved not to pressure him, and certainly not betray his trust. Perhaps, in time, he would show her. Perhaps not. She was going to try her best to accept either outcome.

With the subject of his mask already brought to the fore in a less than ideal way, Christine thought now would be a good time to invoke the question she had been pondering all day. In light of what had already occurred, maybe it would be more palatable.

"I have something I want to ask you…" She started hesitantly. Her hands were still around his neck, one lightly stroking his hair.

Erik was still on edge, shoulders tense. But he was slowly relaxing with each pass of her fingertips. "Alright."

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Erik cocked his head curiously. That was not what he had been expecting. Christine's brow then furrowed, realizing that was not quite what she meant. She assumed he would like to have dinner with her of course. But that wasn't the issue at hand.

"I mean…would you? Can you?"

He smiled. One would think being asked to dinner by such an angelic being was a step down from being allowed to kiss her all day. But when it came to Christine, every precious word, touch, and second spent with her, held immeasurable value.

"Yes, of course," he said happily. She found his grin to be positively adorable.

"You will?" She asked excitedly, "I mean, you can?" She glanced at his mask hesitantly.

He didn't like it. But he knew she meant well. "Yes, I can." He tapped the porcelain in question. "It's only a bit uncomfortable. But not impossible." It actually hurt. But she didn't need to know that.

Her face fell. "Oh…well, I don't want you to be uncomfortable…"

He shook his head and reached around to take her hands, holding them in front of him. He kissed her knuckles gently. "No, Christine. I want to, really. It's worth it to spend time with you."

Her heart fluttered. "Alright then," she said with a grin. "Um…how about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

She nodded. "You could come over to my place. I don't ever really cook on week days, but we could get take out."

He placed another reverent kiss on her knuckle. "That sounds lovely."

She grinned and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Great. I should go then. Give me a little bit to um…clean up," she laughed. "Is 7 ok?"

"Absolutely."

"Great," Another peck. "See you then."

Christine's apartment looked even more put together with the lights on. On his first visit, he had noticed the bright, pristine surfaces and elegant decorating. Now he could see her color coordinated bookshelf, perfectly organized shoes by the door, and collection of coffee mugs that hung in a line on her kitchen wall. He couldn't help but laugh. It was such a contrast between her scattered and disorganized personality.

Christine noticed him smiling as she was giving him a little tour. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," he responded passively, pretending to inspect a plant on her kitchen counter.

"Noo it's something, tell me," she insisted.

He shrugged. "I just find the difference between your home and your personality…amusing."

She rolled her eyes with a good humored smile. "Meg says the same thing. I'm not incapable of being organized you know."

"Well I can see that."

"It's just difficult sometimes, I'm so busy. This place only stays so clean because I'm never here. Trust me, it doesn't always look this good on the weekend."

"Oh I believe you."

She scrunched her nose at him with a smile. "Shut up." She stood on her tiptoes and pulled him to her, her fingers hooking in his belt loops. He had changed into jeans and a t-shirt and she loved it.

Erik looked down at her with a smile, his hands finding her hips. He was thrilled this transition, which should have been inherently awkward, was going so smoothly. No doubt it was thanks to the easy friendship they had cultivated, as well as the abrupt way in which it had changed. They hadn't really taken the time to dwell on any reasons to be awkward. And he wasn't about to start. No, instead he was going to return the delightfully soft kiss she bestowed upon him.

Just then the doorbell rang. Christine pulled herself away with a groan. "That's probably the take out. I just ordered Italian, I hope that's ok. I figured you wouldn't tell me your preference anyway," she added with a smile.

He chuckled. "I don't have one to begin with."

"Riiiight," she droned incredulously as she made her way toward the door. "Be careful though, Italian has lots of…" she spun back around, eyes narrow, "garlic."

He gave her a confused look, then remembered her little running joke about him being a vampire. He rolled his eyes. Christine continued her suspicious stare as she backed away from him, all the way until she turned to answer the door.

They ate on the couch, as Christine had never bothered to get a dining table. She rarely had any guests, much less enough to warrant a dinner party. Erik sat angled towards her with his legs crossed, barely touching his pasta and trying to keep her too busy talking to notice.

"And that's when I realized my cat wasn't begging for her dinner like she usually did every night," Christine was explaining through a mouthful of penne, "So I checked her bed, and you'll never believe what I found…"

Erik's eyes widened just slightly. "The hamster?"

"The hamster."

"Good lord. That must have been rather traumatizing to a ten year old."

She nodded sternly. "Oh yes. I screamed. Dad had to come clean it up. It's little hairs fell everywhere."

He held back a laugh.

"What about you? Did you have pets when you were a kid?"

The corner of his mouth turned down a bit. "No."

When he offered no further conversation Christine moved on, "Hm. Any pets now?"

He much preferred to talk about her. In fact, he would have been content to sit and listen to her all night, without speaking of himself once. But unfortunately, he knew that was unrealistic. Perhaps if he kept it short, they could get back on the much more appealing topic of her.

"A cat."

Her eyes widened and she gave a happy gasp. "A cat? Really? How come you never mentioned it before?"

He shrugged. "You never asked."

"What kind is it? Is it a boy or girl?"

"Siamese. Girl."

"What's her name?"

"Ayesha." He wasn't sure why this was so interesting, but it certainly seemed to grab her attention.

"Do you have any pictures?"

Erik was surprised that the answer to that was yes. He was never sure why he took pictures of Ayesha, but he did. He pulled out his phone and scooted closer to show her.

"Awww she's beautiful!" Christine cried when she saw the photo of Ayesha perched on a windowsill. Erik smiled at her reaction. He scrolled through a couple more.

"Oh my goodness you have a cat tree for her?" Christine asked when he came to one of the Siamese sitting atop a tall carpeted platform. It had three levels consisting of a perch, hiding hole, and a hammock.

"Well…yes, I suppose so." For some reason the fact felt slightly embarrassing.

She slowly covered her mouth as she looked at him. "That's so adorable. You love your cat so much."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't say I love her. I…like her. She's nice to have around."

"Mhm, sure," Christine said with mock sincerity. "What do you feed her?"

"Science Diet sensitive stomach,' He said automatically. Then pursed his lips.

Christine practically squealed with glee. "You love your cat!"

Erik looked down sheepishly and shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Whatever."

With a grin, she leaned against his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "You know I've always had a thing for cat guys. They're usually very sweet."

His eyes shifted with a barely perceptible movement of his head. "Oh?"

"Mhmmm." She placed a kiss just below his ear. Erik stayed frozen as she lingered there, sucking lightly. Delicious heat coursed through his body. Then she whispered again, sultry tone completely unmatched by her words, "What's your favorite color?"

Erik gave an abrupt laugh at her sudden shift. "Um..." he took a moment to gather his composure. "Red. Yours?"

"Purple."

"Hmm." He shifted to lean back on the couch, pulling her with him. Their food was set aside and long forgotten. Christine positioned herself between his legs and leaned her back against his chest. Erik nearly hissed when he felt her press against him. He focused very hard on controlling his breathing.

"How about...your favorite movie?" She asked. He wrapped his arms around her and she took his hands in hers.

"Don't have one. You?"

"You don't have a favorite movie?"

His chin was resting atop her head and she felt him move back and forth. "Nope. I don't watch many movies."

"We'll have to change that."

He chuckled. "You didn't tell me your favorite."

"Would you recognize any movie title anyway?" She asked with a laugh.

"Probably not. But I still want to know."

He couldn't see her smile, just felt the way she began stroking his hands. "Alright. Beauty and The Beast."

That one he recognized. He nearly choked. How ironic.

"Interesting."

Christine shifted, leaning to the side so she could look up at his face. "Ask me something else."

He thought for a moment as he gazed into her eyes. There was one question that had been pricking his mind for quite a while now.

"How many years is a few?"

She smiled, confused. "What?"

"My first day. You said you were a few years younger than me. How many is a few?" He was careful to keep his tone purely curious, knowing the question could easily be misinterpreted. It worked, and Christine simply laughed.

"How long have you been thinking about that?"

"Not long," he lied. It didn't make any difference to him, not really. But he knew Christine worried about what other people thought. He also knew, that he wanted to be prepared if "age difference" was going to be one of the many oppositions her father would no doubt heap upon them once he knew the truth.

She bit her lip, eyes hesitant. Her smile became a little more nervous. "Um...ten."

"Ten!?" He was unable to hide the shock in his voice. "You're twenty five?"

"Ya..." her face fell at his reaction. "I'm sorry, I should have told you." She sat up a little straighter, pulling back to look at him. "Does it bother you?"

"Me? No!" He quickly took her hand and kissed it. "Not at all. I just...well...doesn't it bother you?"

She laughed and kissed his lips firmly. "Oh yes...it bothers me...so much..." every few words were punctuated with another kiss. Erik laughed.

"Ok, ok, if you say so."

She shifted again to move closer to him, placing her hands behind his neck. Her movements were creating a delightfully torturous friction and Erik wondered if she was simply ignorant of this fact, or she was having fun testing him. The innocence in her eyes made him believe the former.

"Let's talk about something else," she decided.

"Like what?"

"Liiiike," she leaned in and began peppering his jaw with kisses. "Your favorite things. Tell me more of your favorite things."

"Mmm. You'll have to be more specific," he was just barely listening, much too distracted by the electricity she sparked across his skin.

"Your favorite song?"

"Don't have one. I love all music." His favorite song was actually one that he had written but he was afraid of sounding too egotistic.

Her mouth moved to his neck, slowly tracing a path down to his throat. "Favorite food?"

"Italian. Let's talk about you."

He decided her little game of multitasking was quite to his liking, if only he had more of an advantage. He gently pushed her back and scooted up to position her on his lap. Pulling her close again, he pushed her hair aside to latch onto the base of her neck. Christine gave a breathy laugh and squirmed against him.

He spoke as his mouth traveled her skin, "What's your favorite kind of music?"

"Hmmm...soft rock. Or instrumental. Sometimes alternative."

"That's a lot of favorites."

"Yes it is."

He chuckled. She hissed as he nipped her shoulder. "I have one for you now."

"It's still my turn."

She laughed. "Just one, please?"

"Hmmm…ok."

"Why were you so late to your interview?"

Erik pulled back to look at her, a question is his eyes. "What?"

"Why were so late to your interview?" She repeated. Just as he had done earlier, she was careful to keep her tone curious and not accusatory.

"Why are you asking that now?" He asked through a confused laugh.

She shrugged. "Just wondering."

His shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. This was not where he wanted this conversation to go. "Well, if you must know, it's because I was downstairs in my car, deciding whether or not I wanted to…" he hesitated here as he caught her eye, "…throw my life away."

Christine instantly sat up, bracing her hands on his chest. "What? Throw your life away?"

He nodded.

"Why did you feel like you were throwing your life away?"

"For all the reasons I told you I was leaving. Except at the time, I actually believed them."

She squinted, thinking. Then that familiar teasing smile crept over her lips. "I see, you thought we were a waste of your wonderful talents…"

Erik shrugged helplessly, knowing he technically should be modest and deny it. But it was true.

"So what, did you just imagine this would get you by until you found something better?" She laughed.

"Pretty much."

She knew the answer but she couldn't resist asking anyway. "What changed your mind?"

Erik rolled his eyes with a grin and kissed her. "Goodness, I have no idea…" Imitating her response from earlier, he answered her through a string of kisses, "what on earth…changed…my mind…"

Christine giggled. Then, abruptly, she broke away and reached across him towards a little side table. Erik watched her curiously. She dug blindly through the drawer for a few moments and returned with two sticks of gum.

"We've been eating garlic drenched Italian," she said with a cheeky smile.

He watched her lips as she took her own stick, then opened his mouth to let her pop his in. They chewed for a few seconds, eyes locked. Then she beckoned him forward with a lick of her lips. He quickly accepted her invitation.

Erik reflected on how grateful he was for finally deciding to get out of his car that day. Technically, he owed everything, including his unfathomable happiness and the wonderful woman in his lap, to Nadir. He wondered briefly if he should thank the irritating man for coercing him into something he didn't want to do, yet again. The thought was banished instantly.