A little POTO/LND holiday piece that I wrote for th POTO Advent Calendar on Tumblr. Because I'm a sucker for happy holiday family stories, apparently.As always, reviews are welcomed and deeply appreciated. Happy Holidays!
Christine had always dreamed of seeing New York at Christmas.
Now that she resided only miles from the City, instead of oceans as she had before, nearly all of her wiles for the month of November had been exhausted in attempts to convince the very stubborn object of her affections to indulge her whims for a day.
"As if I fail to do so already?" had been his dry reply before he issued another fervent denial. "I am sorry, my love," he supplied mere moments later, tone softening slightly around the edges. "I fear this is as far as I dare to venture into the world around me."
She knew very well his reasons for declining (and acknowledged the validity of such), but that did not stop a petulant frown from creeping across her full lips at his explanation. Seeing her displeasure, Erik had sunken into the armchair across from her and offered his solution. "Why don't you and Gustave go on your own, hmm? Take Gangle and perhaps Ms. Fleck? Something tells me they would have no objection to shirking their duties for a day. I shall send for them at once!"
And with that, the matter had been settled, leaving Christine with myriad conflicting emotions. Still, she hoped to make her presence here a bit more...permanent and it was with that hope that she dutifully repressed her objections and agreed to her Angel's alternate plans as they were quickly set in stone.
Still, a stone can be cracked. And, sure enough, the one that delivered the final chaotic blow happened to be none other than a certain precocious ten-year-old.
Was it only just this morning that the house was in such uproar? She had been sitting at the vanity in her rooms, attempting to tame her mass of brown curls when the discordant shouts began to echo through the house.
"Maman!"
"Christine!"
Two of the voices she loved most in this world, so similar in their honeyed clarity and tone. Yet today, they sounded like nothing of the sort. One was high-pitched and joyful, the other dark and disapproving but both held a slightly whiny quality that both parties would emphatically deny. Allowing herself a slight chuckle at that thought, she set her brush aside as the door to her room flew open and a fleeting ball of energy was launched nearly into her lap.
"Maman, make him listen!" Large brown eyes stared up at her, imploring her to his cause.
Christine set him back on his feet as she asked, "Make whom listen to what, Gustave?"
Her question was answered only seconds later when the third party strode into the room, dressed only in trousers and shirtsleeves and the visible side of his face flushed in barely-leashed panic. "Christine," His dulcet voice was deceptively calm as he came to a stop behind Gustave, hands folded together at the small of his back. "Are you aware of the madness that your son is proposing?"
Christine stared up at him before returning her attention to the boy's expectant gaze. "Would one of you be so kind as to tell me what on earth is going on?"
Gustave needed no further prompting, but his father was faster. "Allow me, my dear." Ignoring the boy's accusing stare, Erik moved to the end of Christine's bed, taking a seat on the edge. "It seems our young friend here wishes us to partake in the tradition of the Christmas holiday."
She blinked. "And?"
"And," he continued, hunching forward and bringing bony elbows to rest on his knees. "Are you aware that such tradition involves bringing coniferous vegetation from out of doors inside, filling its branches with ostentatiously shiny objects and displaying it for the better part of the lunar cycle? The mere thought of it is insanity!"
"We've always had a Christmas tree," Gustave noted, his chin lifting in challenge. "Why should this year be any different?"
"He's right,", Christine smiled, placing a comforting hand on her son's arm. "It's tradition. Besides, is it really that terrible of an idea? It might make this feel a little more like home."
Erik bristled slightly at her words. "Be that as it may, it is wholly impractical."
Christine's smile was both indulgent and apologetic. "Christmas is hardly meant to be practical, Erik."
Gustave's huffed, a triumphant smirk pulling at this lips. The expression was such a smaller version of her beloved that Christine tried quite unsuccessfully to hide her smile. If only they could see how alike they were at times.
Thankfully, neither seemed to take notice at this particular moment. Instead, Erik sighed as he worked long fingers over his brow. "Let us suppose that for a moment I agree to this outrageous display -which I have not yet!- there remains another matter to be settled."
She exhaled. "And that is?"
This time it was Gustave who won the race to answer. "I told Mr. Y that we need to find the perfect tree and chop it down ourselves."
"To which I replied I have a bevy of staff that could take care of such matters, should they be necessary." Erik retorted, "Which it is not."
"Yet," Gustave supplied, earning him an exasperated sigh from his father.
With a slight shake of her head, Christine turned to the boy. "Gustave, even if Mr. Y agrees to the tree, why do you feel the need to chop it down? You've never done that before. The servants always saw to that." Across the room, she could almost see Erik tense at the mention of her life before arriving in Coney Island.
Gustave dropped his eyes to the floor at her words, acknowledging their truth with a tilt of his head. "I know. It's just…"
"What, sweetheart?" Christine asked. "What is it?."
"Go on, Gustave," Erik prompted, his voice soft and soothing as it used to be in Christine's lessons.
"Didn't you used to go with your father, Maman?"
"Yes, Gustave. When I was very young. Before we came to Paris."
"Well…" The boy glanced at Erik, then flitted his gaze to his mother. "I just...remember the stories you used to tell me. About how you and mofar used to go deep into the woods each year to find the perfect tree and how happy and excited you used to be for that to come. I just thought that maybe now that I had my father, we could do it too," He glanced back at Erik with a shrug of his small shoulders. "But if you don't want to…"
Erik leapt to his feet as he met Christine's wide eyes. "Gustave, that is not at all why I don't…"
"Gustave," She interrupted smoothly, forcing a tight smile." "Would you do something for me, cherie? Please go and find Ms. Fleck. Tell her that I'm nearly ready to leave. Can you do that?" When he hesitated, she added. "I just need to speak to Mr. Y alone for a few moments. We will resume this discussion very soon, I promise."
Her son's face was doubtful, but he nodded obediently and scampered from the room. The moment the door shut behind him, Christine was on her feet and inches from the former Opera Ghost. "Erik, he's your son, for God's sakes. Are you truly going to deny him of this?"
"Do you think I want to refuse him? Of course not. There is nothing I want more!" He shuddered before her and she felt her heart break a little for his sake. "Christine, if I were any other man…"
"If you were any other man, you would not be who you are," she replied. Taking his hand, she led him back to the foot of her bed and indicated that he sit. Joining him, she attempted a wobbly smile. "Erik, he's your son. He just wants to be with you."
"I've already missed so much…" he mused. "But...my face….all of the people…"
"You do realize where you will be if you do go, don't you?" Christine asked, a touch of humor coloring her voice. "There won't be another soul for miles unless you are worried about whatever opinion the wildlife might have of you. Christmas trees do not grow in the middle of a city, my love. I understand why you will not accompany me there. I do not like it," This with a pointed, playful glare in his direction, "but I do understand it."
"So I am to be at the mercy of Mother Nature and her cruelties once more?"
"Only if you fear hers more than mine," With an encouraging smile and squeeze of his hand, she pressed on. "I know all of this is new to you. But if you truly desire to be a 'normal man' as you put it, taking Gustave for a Christmas tree is a good way to start."
Erik glanced down at her. "Did your father truly take you every year?"
"Every year," she confirmed with a nod, meeting his eyes with a melancholy grin "When Mother died, we were all each other had. Even after the Professor and Mama Valerius took us in, I always looked forward to spending that time alone with Papa."
She chuckled as the moments sprang forward, one by one to the forefront of her memory. "I always managed to choose the tallest, biggest evergreen I could seem to find. And oh, were there choices." His responding half-smile urged her on. "I remember one Christmas, I don't know- perhaps I was around eight at the time? Regardless, I was set on finding the grandest tree anyone would ever have the privilege of seeing."
The visible brow climbed higher. "And were you successful in your quest, my dear?"
She laughed outright this time. "Quite so. The tree I selected must have stood at least five times my height. Being who he was, Papa indulged me and the Professor followed his lead. If I remember correctly, word was sent for assistance from the servants. When all was said and done, I think it took about seven men to bring that tree down."
Erik gave an indignant snort. "Let us hope your son is now prone to the same flights of fancy as his mother."
"Don't be such grouch," she admonished with a slightly reproachful glare in his direction.
He met her glare. "Do not treat me as if I am a child, Christine."
"Then do not act like one," she retorted, chin lifting.
Coloring slightly under her censure, Erik gave an indignant "hmpf" and adjusted his posture, attempting to work the tightness out of his neck as he motioned for her to continue. Christine rolled her eyes, but complied, moving behind him on her knees and began to work out the kinks in his shoulders with surprising strength. "In any event, somehow we managed to eventually haul the thing back to the estate. Mama Valerius nearly had a stroke when she saw us coming up the drive with it in tow, but like Papa and the Professor, could not find it in her heart to turn it away."
"Yes, you seem to have that effect, don't you," Erik muttered, even as his eyes fell closed under her ministrations.
Her fingers stilled. "If you keep on with your comments, you can do this yourself."
"Unheard of. My deepest thanks for you, ange," he groaned, rolling his shoulders, prompting her to resume her work. "And my sincerest apologies."
Christine huffed, but began again moving her hands to his back and suppressing a chuckle at his moan of approval. His back arched sharply a moment later when her fingers found a particularly large and difficult knob between his shoulder blades, and she ducked in order to avoid knocking heads. "How long as it been since you've tended to these knots in you back?"
He shrugged artlessly. "Would it truly surprise you to learn that you are the first person I've allowed to touch me so intimately?"
Point taken. She increased her pressure as he added. "Please, continue with your story."
It was her turn to shrug. "There is not that much more to tell if I am being honest. Papa and the Professor were able to muscle the tree into the grand foyer, albeit with some help from the staff. I was promptly sent to bed as it was already dark by the time we arrived back and the festivities continued the next morning with decorations as they did every year."
"The house must have been massive to fit such a thing."
Feeling the knot loosening under her head, Christine smiled her approval. "Eventually, she conceded, then added with a laugh. "Although I did hear some of the kitchen servants whispering about how the stable hands had to chop off a good two feet before morning in order for it to stand upright in the parlor."
Erik chuckled slightly at that. "How disappointed you must have been."
She answered with a shake of her head. "Quite the contrary." Her fingers moved in small, soothing circles over this shoulders and back as she spoke. "I felt nothing but wide-eyed wonder when I pranced into the parlor the next day to see that majestic tree in all of its glory and knowing that I had been the one to pick it out of thousands of others. My father trusted me, of all people to make that very important decision."
Erik relaxed under her hands when she stilled them on his shoulders. "That is what I want for Gustave," she confessed, wrapping an arm around his neck from behind and resting her head lightly against his as his hand came up to cover hers. "For him to know that joy and to cherish the time and memories you shall make with him."
With a deep sigh, Erik tilted his head back, his gemstone eyes catching her brown ones, following her as she eased off of the bed and tucked herself back into his side. "Do you really think I am ready to be his father, Christine?"
"Ready or not, darling, you already are," she reminded him, placing one hand on his thigh and gently lifting herself over his lap to press her lips to his exposed cheek. "I know you care for him."
"He is a part of you and me," Erik's eyes now shone with unshed tears as she placed a hand alongside his face. "How could I not?"
"The very best parts," Christine agreed, drawing his head down to her lips and allowing herself the quiet moment and a stolen kiss. "Now," she commanded, pulling away and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirtsleeves. "Go tell your son that his father has had a change of heart."
"He has!?" Christine followed Erik as he rose from the bed, taking advantage of his height to hide her smile in his shoulder. In the doorway, Gustave practically beamed up at the taller man. "Is it true, Mr. Y?"
Erik glanced back at Christine, but forced a slight smile to his face at her warning stare. "So it would seem," he muttered, more to himself than the boy. Christine's elbow connecting with his ribcage forced some of the brightness back into his voice. "Right. Shall we be off then, Gustave?"
With an undignified whoop, Gustave leapt in the air, nearly bowling over Ms. Fleck, who had stood silently behind him watching the exchange with undisguised interest. Christine met the smaller woman's gaze and the two shared a secret smile at the thought of the mysterious master of the house traipsing through the deep woods with a small boy for hours on end.
Still, said master squared his newly-loosened shoulders and declared the boy to follow him. "We shall need our warmest coats, of course. After you retrieve yours, Gustave, please find Gangle and Mr. Squelch. I imagine we will be in need of their assistance on this endeavor as well. Meanwhile, I will speak to the stable master about readying the sleigh." Glancing down at his son, Erik attempted a true smile that nearly made Christine's heart burst. "I promise you, my boy, this shall be a day you will not soon forget."
In all of the excitement, Christine realized Erik must have forgotten Dr. Gangle's prior commitment to accompany her to the City. But one look at father and son quickly extinguished any prick of disappointment she may have felt. At that moment, Gustave gazed up at the former Phantom as if he held the sun, moon, and stars in his hands.
Her smile grew. Perhaps he did.
Erik's smile had tightened slightly, unused to such open adoration, but one glance back to see the encouraging slight of her head was all the prompting he needed to place a gentle hand on Gustave's back as they ascended the stairs.
Next to her, Ms. Fleck knit her brows together and let out a chuff of surprise. "I would pay big money to see the Master chop down a tree."
Christine chuckled despite herself. "In all honesty, so would I." The confession was a conspiratorial stage-whisper and brought a full laugh from her unlikely friend. "But we have other things we must be about today."
Ms. Fleck glanced up at her. "Such as."
Christine was already halfway to the closet as she answered. "I certainly have no plans to sit home while the men have all of the fun, do you?" A determined smile bloomed on her lips as she indicated for the other woman to follow her. "After all, a tree does need decorations and I hear that Manhattan has some of the best."
