A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros; as well as my "Skiing Specialist", Le Chat Noir
Episode 9
By: Elektra
Daaé-Garner Residence
Christine sat on the couch, feet up as she flicked through the channels on television, not minding that Erik was currently using her thigh for a pillow as he lay out on the couch, his long legs dangling over the armrest.
Her ghost was rather tired this evening, trying to undo the damage a very bored Loki had caused at the Populaire earlier during rehearsals. He had refused to sit still and allow the meddlesome trickster to ruin what everyone had put so much work in to.
Glancing around the room, Christine noted the blinds and drapes were shut. It was a necessary evil due to the latest interest in CAM, though Christine was starting to miss the daily sunlight that usually streamed into the living room.
With a resigned sigh, she slid Erik's mask off and placed it on the table beside her, stroking his face as she continued trying to find something interesting to watch on television.
Long thin fingers slid over the back of Christine's hand as Erik pressed his skeletal cheek into her palm. "What would you like for supper, beloved?"
"Are you cooking?" she smirked.
"No, but I am ordering." He pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for the portable phone.
Christine laughed, "Pizza then."
"Hmm, I would think a student of ballet would not eat such food,"
"I'm not a student of ballet any more," she said, then dropped her voice to a low whisper. "And spending a few energetic nights with you gives me more of a workout than my ballet classes ever did."
He was about to respond to that when the sound of a bell caught his attention. He frowned. "I will be right back."
"Wait… what was that?" she asked.
"Someone has gotten too close to the house," he said.
Christine looked up at him, "You set an alarm bell?"
He shrugged, "If we are to have unexpected visitors, I would like to know ahead of time."
He started to head out, and Christine called out to him, holding up his mask. He simply offered a cold smirk, and continued on without it. Christine sat back on the couch and played with the mask in her hands, waiting for him to return.
After a few minutes, she stood up and paced back and forth. What was Erik doing? Who was he doing it TOO?
Christine suddenly jumped at the sound of a scream. A male scream.
She sat back down on the couch with a heavy sigh. Erik had obviously rid them of the intruder, but for a moment, she worried it was permanent.
No, she told herself. He promised he quit that life…
Christine heart leapt when Erik returned. "Well, that photographer certainly won't be back." He smirked.
She tried not to show her apprehension, "What did you do?"
"I frightened him away," he said as he sat beside Christine once again, noting her sigh of relief. He couldn't blame her.
"You know," he continued, "I've often wondered if CAM should not just make his face known. After all, living corpses would not sell magazines, thus cutting down on photographers, nor would they invade women's fantasies, thus cutting down on those claiming to bed me."
Christine opened her mouth to protest, and Erik quickly placed a finger over her lips, "Present company excluded."
She shook her head. "But still, this is getting crazy."
Christine glanced out the window at the light snowfall and looked down at Erik, a thought coming to her, "Honey, maybe now would be a good time to take the skiing trip Raoul was talking about…"
DeChagny Chalet – a week later
Everyone stood in the large living room, suitcases at their sides as Raoul addressed them. "Welcome to the DeChagny Family Chalet," he smiled. "I hope you all enjoy the stay here. If there's anything lacking, let me know and I'll look after it,"
"More beer. This's the last bottle!" A crackling voice complained as the hunched figure shuffled her way towards the rest of the group from the kitchen.
"Grandmother Giry…" Raoul sighed. "We still have a six pack-"
"Gone," Grandma interrupted.
"Of course," he muttered. "I'll get more tomorrow."
"Thass'a good boy! A good, pretty boy! Gran'ma might give you a special pres'nt later," Grandma winked at Raoul as she guzzled the bottle in her hand. Raoul shuddered in disgust.
"Grandma, the beautiful boy is mine," Meg said as she took Raoul's hand protectively. He smiled down at her in relief.
"Well, there's always th'sexy mask'd one," Grandma glanced over at Erik and offered him a wink as well. "More a man, you are…"
"Grandmother Giry," Erik began politely but sternly, "I belong to another." He possessively put an arm around Christine's shoulders and leaned in towards her, his voice low when he spoke, "If she attempts to grab my backside again this year, I will leave!"
"Well, I guess I should tell you all your sleeping arrangements," Raoul spoke up again, grabbing everyone's attention once more. "Madame," he nodded to each in kind, "Your room is up the stairs to the far left. Grandmother, you'll be in the room beside them. I'll be sharing a room with-"
Raoul froze as Madame Giry focused her eyes on him, her steely gaze leaving him cold. He thought quickly, "… uh… the Christmas tree!" he said quickly. "I'll sleep in the living room, of course."
"What!" Meg's eyes went wide, "But we-"
"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, Megan," Madame Giry interrupted.
Meg turned to her, a frown upon her lips, "Right, because it's not like we LIVE TOGETHER or anything!"
"It's ok, Meg," Raoul said as he took her hand. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch. This way, you can room with your grandmother. And hey, Erik is going to be on the other couch and-"
"Pardon?" Erik interrupted. "I believe I will be staying with Christine."
"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, Erik," Raoul pointed out, smirking at the fact he would not be the only one to suffer lonely nights.
"Since when have I ever been a gentleman, DeChagny?"
Raoul's smirk faded, "But-" he stopped, realizing Madame Giry didn't seem overly concerned about where Erik would sleep, or with whom.
"Well, if all is settled, I will be taking my things upstairs," Giry said as she grasped her suitcase and headed off to settle in.
Raoul narrowed his eyes and glared at Erik once she was gone, "What the hell was that about?" he snapped. "How is it she gives me a death glare before I could even suggest sharing the same room as Meg, but you staying with Christine is all hunky-dory?"
Erik shrugged, "Perhaps because Antoinette knows better than to raise my ire about such things."
Meg scoffed at that, "Like Ray and I haven't been sharing the same bed for the last six months!"
Erik turned to her, "Your mother is not ignorant, Little Giry. My best guess is she simply does not want to be faced with it when she is in the same building."
"It's MY chalet," Raoul muttered as he tossed his suitcase on the couch.
"And Madame Giry is your girlfriend's mother." Christine pointed out.
Raoul seemed to think about that for a moment, "Good point."
"You can sneak into my room later," Meg winked. "Grandma will be deep asleep," She gave Raoul a quick kiss, then grabbed her bags and headed upstairs.
"Our room?" Erik asked.
"Huh?" Raoul looked up from the suitcase he was opening, "Oh, yeah… there're two empty ones on the right now. Pick whichever." He turned back to his belongings.
Christine thanked him cheerfully before her and Erik grabbed their bags and headed upstairs.
"It's MY chalet!" Raoul repeated to the empty room. The Christmas tree lights simply continued to blink cheerfully in response.
The Next Day
Christine eagerly led Erik to the first slope of the day. They had lagged behind the rest of the group, Christine needing to show him how to properly put on a pair of ski boots and skis.
"Where are we going?" he asked suspiciously when he saw a group of children and only two adults.
"Ski school," Christine answered.
Erik frowned, "Why do I need ski school?"
"Because you haven't been skiing before?" she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
Erik scoffed at that, "My lack of ski experience non-withstanding, it does not look so difficult that I need SCHOOLING!"
"Humour me, ok?"
Reluctantly, Erik did so. They arrived at the group just in time to hear two terms being used the 'pizza pie' and the 'french fry'. Erik did not take his golden eyes off the instructors, who seemed a little uncomfortable with a tall masked man joining a group of children.
"Now pizza pie is how to stop," the first instructor informed the students, "And french fry is when you put the skis parallel to actually move. Like this." She demonstrated, then turned to Erik, "Sir, would you like to-" the instructor froze, eyes growing wide, "You're not… I mean, you couldn't be… CAM?"
"No, I am ANOTHER masked freak. Continue with the lesson!" He snapped impatiently.
"Yes sir, of course!" The instructor sputtered, "Uh well… um… yeah, the french fry,"
With an impatient sigh, Erik did as he was shown, and found himself sliding uncontrollably down the bunny slope, Christine following close behind, laughing as he desperately tried to balance himself.
When they finally reached the bottom, he stopped easily enough but appeared quite arrogant, "As I thought, it was not difficult."
"Then why were you screaming?" Christine asked.
"I was not screaming. I was simply warning others that I was coming."
"Of course you were. Let's try the blues then."
"Blues?"
"Yeah, a bit steeper than this. With moguls. Since you're such a quick learner and all, it shouldn't be a problem," she smirked.
"Where is DeChagny? Shouldn't he be here as well?"
"Raoul is in the double blacks – the most advanced slopes. He's been skiing since he was a kid,"
Erik narrowed his eyes, "Are you telling me that there is something DeChagny knows that I do not?"
Christine raised an eyebrow, "Believe it or not, Erik, Raoul hasn't been living in a basement for half his life."
"Are you belittling me?" Erik asked warningly.
"No, lover. I'm just pointing out a fact."
With a scowl, Erik pushed off, "Where are those blues? I will show you that I am at least somewhat competent!"
"Right this way!" Christine offered, leading the way towards the next set of hills.
After several minutes - and a rather embarrassing incident on the ski lift which ended up with Erik on his rear when his weight shifted the lift forward a little too much - the two finally started down a blue slope side by side.
"See, beloved?" Erik began, "I told you I would not have a problem figuring out-" his voice halted, "What the HELL is that?"
"Mogul. JUMP!" Christine ordered.
Erik simply stopped his skis and sat down on the snowy ground as Christine flew over the mogul before her. When she realized she had lost her masked man, she halted and turned back to him. "C'mon! I thought you said this was easy?"
"This is ridiculous!" he shouted back. "Who thought of such a foolish sport? Sliding down a mountain such as this? Flying over … what did you call them? Moguls? It is insanity!"
"Look who's talking!" Christine shot back. "If you don't get your sweet buns over here, I'll call for the ski patrol, I swear!"
"You wouldn't dare!" He retorted.
"Want to try me!" Christine asked, hands on hips. "If you were frightened, Erik, you should have just said so! But no, heaven forbid Erik Garner admits there is something he CAN'T do!"
"Frightened?" he roared, "I am the one who frightens others! I am the Opera Ghost!" Erik stood back up again and pushed off, heading down with far more grace and agility than he had shown earlier.
With a smirk unseen by the black-clad man zipping by her, Christine mused on how well she knew the male ego - or rather, one male's ego – and quickly followed after him.
Late that night
Raoul slowly woke and glanced at the watch on his wrist. 1:30am.
After a busy day of skiing and a rather filling Christmas dinner, he had retired to the couch for a nap. It seemed the nap had been far longer than he had wanted. He had spoken to Meg about visiting her at some point in the night. The plan was thus: Meg would sneak into the spare room once Grandmother was asleep and await his arrival.
Raoul walked up the stairs and headed to the designated room only to find the door open and the bed empty. Curious, he walked towards the room he had saved for Meg. Perhaps Grandmother was off getting drunk and had left his lover alone for the night.
Quietly pushing the door open, he saw a small form sleeping in one of the twin beds. There was no one else around.
"Meg?" Raoul whispered softly. He heard no sound from the sleeping form. "Meggy?" There was a soft sound now, a mutter. Hardly distinguishable as an answer, but he would take what he could get.
With careful, hushed movements, he slid beneath the sheets.
Erik and Christine's Room
"I'm SO not going to sleep tonight," Christine muttered as she watched the TV screen from behind splayed fingers. "This movie is creepy!"
"Which is precisely the reason Little Giry so highly recommends it," Erik answered, receiving a thumbs up from the girl sitting a few feet in front of himself and Christine.
"I've wanted you to see this for the longest time," Meg replied. "It's a great creep out! And now that you have a guy to cling to – who is a hell of a lot scarier than a dead woman crawling upsidedown down the stairs, by the way – you have no more excuses!"
"Weren't you supposed to meet with Raoul tonight?" Christine asked.
Meg brushed of her concern with a wave of her hand, "Poor guy was out cold on the couch. I couldn't bear to wake him. Grandma has the room to herself tonight."
"But if Raoul thinks you're in there-"
"Don't worry, Erik told me he informed Ray of the change in plans before he came upstairs," Meg shrugged. "I guess he just decided to go back to sleep instead,"
Christine eyed Erik suspiciously.
"I DID mention it to him, beloved," Erik insisted. "I give you my word."
"Oooh, this is the best part! Shhh!" Meg interrupted.
Christine screamed and jumped, Erik grasping her to keep her from falling off the crowded bed.
She quickly froze, eyes wide, "Did you hear that?" Christine asked in a hushed frightenened whisper.
"I heard you scream, yes." Erik replied. "I am sure the entire ski resort heard."
"No! There was another scream! It sounded male… down the hall…" she stopped and looked up at Erik, realization hitting her. "You gave your WORD that you told Raoul about the change!" Christine accused.
Erik shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "If the boy was so dead asleep that he did not hear me, that is hardly MY fault, now is it…"
Meg slowly turned to look at Erik and understood what Christine had been referring to. Her mouth shaped into an 'o', a rather unladylike word escaping her lips, "SHIT!"
DeChagny Chalet Kitchen - an hour later
Once the excitement had settled down and Grandmother Giry understood that she would not be sharing her bed with the lovely blond man who had snuck beneath her bedsheets earlier, Raoul found himself left alone with Erik as the two sat in the kitchen.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Raoul demanded. "Meg told me you promised her you'd inform me of the change. NOW her mom thinks I'm a pervert, and her grandma thinks I want to sleep with her!"
"Well, I certainly cannot help what they think, DeChagny."
Raoul narrowed his eyes, "Will it always be like this with you?" he asked. "Our girlfriends are best friends. We're going to be stuck hanging out with each other for a long time. Do you really want to let this continue? I swear, this is so childish!"
"I would watch what I say if I were you," Erik hissed. "I do not take kindly to insults!"
"You don't take kindly to A LOT of things," Raoul pointed out. "I'm surprised you even take kindly to Christine."
He looked away with a sigh, his voice dropping lower, "Listen, Erik. I like Meg. No…" he turned back to the masked man and met his eyes, "I love Meg, ok? I seriously love her. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I don't know if you care or not, but I want you to know. This has to work for us. I'm going to get enough crap from my brother about marrying a girl who's so far below our social circle, I don't need to mess things up with HER family too!"
"Marry?" Erik asked curiously.
Raoul blinked quickly, "Did… did I say marry?"
"You did. If you wish, I can repeat your entire rant, in your voice no less,"
Raoul furrowed his brow, "You can do that?" He quickly shook his head, "No, never mind. That isn't important." He glanced down at the table, "I really said marry, huh?" he let out a small laugh, "Never thought of it until just now, actually. We haven't even talked about it. Heck, we've been together less than a year. Probably a little too quick to even consider it."
"I knew almost immediately," Erik answered. "Although, Christine did not, obviously."
"When did you propose to her anyway?" Raoul asked.
Erik opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. He knew exactly when he had proposed down to the second. It had been the first night they had become physically intimate.
He did not, however, think that would be wise to share with the man in front of him.
"Why are you speaking of this to me of all people?" Erik answered instead. "Do you not have any friends you can confide in? I do not care for your little social issues."
"Of course you don't," Raoul answered, then looked away. "As far as friends go, you guys are it," he replied quietly. "I have hundreds of acquaintances, but none of them I would consider friends."
"I am not your friend either."
Raoul glanced up at him, then shook his head, "That's too bad, Erik. You might find we actually have a lot in common."
Erik let out a harsh laugh, "I am not a rich handsome socialite, DeChagny. I cannot drop my name in a restauraunt and be ushered to the best seat. I am not catered to by every person I meet, I cannot charm a room full of people with a winning smile or a sparkle in my eye. I am not easy going, I was never brought up by a loving family, and my school peers never bent over backwards to 'get in good' with me."
Erik leaned back, arms crossed as he regarded Raoul from behind his mask, "We have NOTHING in common!"
"We're in love with two incredible women who have probably changed our lives," Raoul replied, raising his voice angrily. "That, Erik, is something we DO have in common. It may just be one thing, but it's the most important thing! It's for their sake that I attempt to be friendly with you and DON'T kick your ass out of my chalet, no matter how tempted I am right now!"
Erik studied the man before him, then allowed a ghost of a smile to appear on his pale lips, "Impressive," he said. "You actually dared to stand up to me, instead of bitching like a spoiled whiny child."
As Raoul contemplated his meaning, the masked man pushed to his feet. "Little Giry wants me to inform you that she is through the second door to the right, at the top of the stairs. She will be waiting for you all night – and there will be no more surprises. Good night, DeChagny."
Before Raoul could respond, Erik left the kitchen and returned to his room. After a few more minutes, Raoul headed upstairs.
Hesitantly, he knocked softly on the second door to the right, "Come in, babe," a voice answered welcomingly.
Relieved, Raoul entered the room, closing the door securely behind him. "Meggy…"
"Ray…" she answered. "About damned time!"
A week later
Their skiing trip over, Erik and Christine sat quite comfortably on the couch, the petite girl laying against the larger man, watching a replay of the entertainment news after a successful evening performance. Both of them wanted to see if the CAM mania had died down.
Alas, it was not to be.
"On Entertainment Daily," the host began as she teed up the show, "We talk to someone who claims CAM is hiding far more than his identity. The secret behind the mask, later tonight."
Christine raised her head from Erik's shoulder and met his eyes, curious as to who would dare come on television and claim to know what he looked like.
When the segment finally aired, Erik was ready to jump through the screen and strangle the boy who sat there: Richard Firmin Jr.
"There's a reason CAM has that mask. I've seen him without it!" RJ insisted. "He looks like a freakin' corpse! He doesn't even have a nose! And he wore that long coat to hide his pasty scrawny body! No woman would want that!"
Erik brushed away RJ's comments, "He is only angry because I caused him to release his bladder in the air ducts,"
Christine slipped a hand beneath Erik's shirt and furrowed her brow in concentration, "Okay, you're lean, maybe. But certainly not scrawny. And… well… I want you,"
Erik glanced at her, "Yes. You have made that quite clear - on several occasions,"
RJ continued his rant, "And he used to run around haunting Ravelle College. I mean, seriously! What kind of grown man does that?"
Erik's golden eyes suddenly narrowed, a scowl appearing on his face, "That cowardly little fool!" he hissed. "Now that I am no longer at the college, he feels he can speak about me behind my back? Does he not remember that I am in constant contact with his father?"
Christine began massaging her temples, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
If people believed Erik was the ghost of Ravelle, how long would it take long before they realized he was the Opera Ghost as well?
END OF EPISODE 9