Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but writer's block is a bigger bitch than Ann Coulter! Please read and review- after this the story will get a little more intense ;-)

Raoul thanked the barista and turned back to find Christine where he'd left her, staking their claim to the chic sofa in the corner of the café. He was glad that the place wasn't too crowded, but it had just the right flow of traffic where they wouldn't be bothered. Out of pure habit, he'd ordered her a white chocolate mocha; it had been her favorite when they were together in Miami- too late he realized that her tastes might have changed in their time apart.

He took a seat beside her and set the plate of scones on the low table before them- they had so much to catch up on, food was really the last thing on his mind. He just hoped that she would open up to him; after all this time, he felt that he deserved some answers.

"Here you go," he said as he handed over her coffee. "Sorry, I didn't know what you wanted, I don't even know if you like mocha any more," he said as he rubbed a hand over his face.

Christine had been quiet for the entire walk from the club to the café, and Raoul could understand her state of slight shock. He didn't know which of them should have been more surprised- all was equal, he supposed.

Christine ticked her head slightly, coming out of her trance, and took then cup with a smile. "Oh! No, it's still my favorite. Some things never change," she smiled as she took a sip. Physically he couldn't see much difference in her now than from when he knew her before- she was still exceptionally beautiful, almost exotic; he was overjoyed to have found her, but he had to know why she was in that club, degrading herself.

He had to know why she'd left him.

"And some things do," Raoul said sternly, reminding her of the very reason they were sitting across from one another.

He watched as Christine took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose; obviously this conversation would lead her towards a migraine, but Raoul wouldn't stop until he understood why she had disappeared.

"All right, Raoul. You found me, fair and square. Now that you have me here, I don't suppose you'll let me just gloss over everything that's happened from Miami until now?" She asked with a half-hearted smile.

His chest swelled with happiness simply from being in her presence- he had missed her cleverness, her dry sense of humor and her sharp mind.

That something so horrible had happened to her, and she'd been too ashamed to confide in him…it twisted something in his soul, encouraging all that was dark and vengeful within him- from the moment he'd learned the truth, Raoul had been sick with a lust for the blood of Michael Downs.

Christine, Christine...

He cleared his throat. "No, I'm not letting it go." He took her hand into both of his, kissing it. "Christine, please, tell me what happened. If you let me, I can help you,"

Christine rolled her eyes lightly and smiled at him the way she always used to, "Raoul, you don't have to do anything. You already know everything that's happened, why dwell on it?"

He held her hand tighter, searching her eyes. "You could have told me, Christine. You know I would have protected you," he said. "When I found out what he did-"

Christine pulled her hand from his and reached for her cup, "Raoul, I love you, but if you bring it up again I'm walking out that door." She said abruptly.

The glare of steel in her eyes told him she meant to keep her promise- one more word on the subject of her past abuse and she would run for the door. Raoul had lost enough races to her in the past to know not to push his luck. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "All right, all right. Will you at least tell me where you've been all this time?"

She took one of the scones from the plate and took a bite. Raoul chose one for himself and watched as Christine sipped her coffee to wash down the sweet pastry. He thought she might be stalling for time, but by the set of her jaw and the tense line of her eyebrows, he saw that she was simply preparing herself.

"I was...recovering, Raoul. You know he broke my leg, but I was lucky because it was a clean break- after a few months I was back to normal, minus the ballet. My mother was in a coma- she still is- and all sorts of bills were piling up. I'd spent weeks in a hotel- you can understand why I didn't want to go back to our house. Dancing is the only thing I know how to do, Raoul, but ballet doesn't pay the bills."

"We would have helped you-"

"I didn't need anyone's pity, Raoul, and I still don't! I thought of going to you- I would stare at my phone and watch as it blinked your name every time you called, I read all your e-mails, but what could I have possibly said if I'd agreed to see you? 'Hi Raoul, sorry you had to find out from Channel 8 that my stepfather was a monster'? I couldn't take the shame, so I hid. Then I ran." She informed; Christine was speaking with a tight control over her voice, and Raoul thought it likely that she had been rehearsing this speech in her head on their walk to the cafe.

He could understand- her past was horrible, no one deserved what Christine had been through, but it hurt him that she wasn't truly confiding in him. Rather, she was rattling off the facts and threatening to run if he even tried to broach the subject.

Where had his friend gone?

"You didn't have to run or hide- you mean so much to me, to all my family," Raoul told her in earnest as he took her hand.

"Which is why I couldn't take the shame...I'm sorry Raoul." Her face opened to him, her eyes were sincere. Raoul brought her into his arms and kissed her hair, stroked her back.

"No, I'm sorry. I hate it when you're right, but you're an adult, and I have no right to pry into your business. I'm sorry again, but I have to know why you're still dancing," Raoul said. "Please, Christine, you don't belong in a place like that, let me help you!"

Christine sighed.

They had only just begun.

Erik reflected that for the first time in his life, he shared his home with someone he loved. With the pets, the loft was crowded in comparison to his life before Christine.

How strange was it that, despite sharing his life, he had never felt so lonely.

He would rather not see Christine at all than keep up this awkward roommate relationship.

They had spent little time together outside of taking the dogs out on obligatory walks to the park each morning and night, and even then the air between them practically bristled with unspoken tensions.

They were in a sorry state- Erik could feel their relationship deteriorating, and it killed him that Christine's feelings towards him were beyond his control. What more could he do? He'd offered her the world…when all was said and done, Erik was powerless to make Christine love him the way that he'd come to love her.

Not much time had passed since the day Christine chose to cooperate with the police- it had barely been a week since she'd agreed to resume the role of a dancer to work as a sort of mole in their investigation. Erik understood her reasons- May was trafficking narcotics, hardcore drugs. Perhaps Christine felt compelled to held stop May's crimes, or maybe she chose to go along with the idea simply to protect him from the negative press that would surely follow if the police stormed the club in a raid.

Whatever her reasons, it killed Erik all the same.

He stared out the window of his bedroom, restless and captive by his frustration. He had been warned that any suspicious behavior of his around May might set off a caution alarm; if she thought Erik was watching her, she could put a hold on the trade for months until she thought the heat was off.

The lead investigator, David Casey, had cornered Erik on his way home, warning him to stay away from the club.

"I get what you're trying to do, Mr. Latour, but let me be frank. There is no room for vigilantes in this case, all right? If you do anything that could set off Valerious's suspicion, this could take months to wrap up. Your girl might have to extend her help to us for a longer stretch- neither of us wants that, but you are endangering yourself, your little girlfriend and this investigation."

Detective Casey had left no room for misunderstanding- anything that Erik did now could be seen with suspicion. He wasn't to go back to the club again, and now that Christine was with him, there had really never been much of a reason for him to go there anyway. Christine had been his only motivation to set foot in that place, though he'd let May believe that he came to discuss business matters- she hadn't believed him for long; she had seen his eyes wander to the blonde onstage and regretfully, May wasn't a fool.

Erik realized that Christine had been a pawn of May's from the very beginning, a distraction to him while she expanded her drug ring.

Even he had to admit that her plan had worked perfectly, though he refused to admit defeat.

Things between he and Christine were strained, but he would not allow things to fall apart now; not now when they'd barely begun what could be a wonderful life together.

Erik was tired, exhausted, really. His various projects outside of the opera and his property holdings had taken up much of his time; usually he wasn't so busy, but he saw now that his work life was driving the wedge between he and Christine even deeper.

How were they ever to reconnect when he couldn't even manage to make it home at a decent hour?

They were destroying themselves from the inside out.

"Erik?"

He turned toward his open bedroom door, where Christine was standing just over the threshold. His bright eyes widened at the sight of her; her lithe frame was again draped in a whisper of silken lace for the night. He couldn't imagine anything more enticing than the sight of her there, the long sheet of honey blonde hair falling over her shoulders, practically naked in the white light of the snow from outside.

Without hesitation, Erik went to her, holding out his hands. To his relief and joy, Christine slid her hands into his, lacing their fingers. He led her further into his room, and brought her into his arms. He rested his chin on the crown of her head for a few moments, just holding her and absorbing the vanilla scent of her hair.

Perhaps hope is not lost on us after all...

He stroked a hand up and down her back, simply enjoying the feel of her.

"May I sleep with you tonight?" She asked him quietly.

Erik knew what she was asking, though he didn't like the formality of her request. He almost expected her to address him as 'sir' the way she was acting!

He pulled back from her, just far enough that he could see her face. "Of course, Christine. I would love that. Is everything…are you all right?" He asked her hesitantly, stroking her cheek.

She took a deep breath and nodded, "I'm all right. I just ran into a friend today. You know, from before," she explained. Her meaning was plain; by before, she meant the life she'd left behind in Miami.

Erik turned down the covers on what had become her side of the bed, and then he settled on his side so that they could talk. He felt blissful that she had come to him with this bit of news- if she wanted to talk, then surely they could reconnect and rebuild what they'd lost?

Christine settled against him and sighed, breathing in his scent. It was strange to miss someone when they shared your space, but Christine had felt she and Erik become strangers to each other over the week she'd spent dancing in his club. She had come to him looking for advice, but she wanted more from him, always more. She wanted to simply be with him, to connect with him in any way that she could.

Erik held her, his blood singing with happiness as she allowed his hands to wander the shapely curves of her body.

"He knew me when it happened, but he hadn't been there at the time. I…I was hiding, I couldn't face him, knowing that he and his whole family knew what had happened to me." Christine explained quickly.

"Who is he?" Erik asked. He felt only a slight twinge of jealousy, but she was there with him, not this unnamed former friend. He was only curious, that was all. Of course it was.

Christine looked up at him and ruffled his hair, mussing it even more. "Oh, Raoul. Raoul de Chagny. It's a silly name, I know, but his family is French. We were friends for awhile, best friends, really. He's older than me; he was at college when it happened. I didn't answer his calls or his e-mails, I didn't go back to the house. I hid from everyone for weeks…"

Erik held her tighter, "Don't be ashamed of what you did. Given the circumstances, I'm sure he understood your reasons."

"Raoul was so angry with me today, Erik. He made me sit down and explain everything, from Miami to New York, he made me tell him everything that's happened,"

"He still cares for you, I'm sure he only wants to help." Erik said as he touched her hair.

She laughed a little. "I know he does, he's always been like that. He wants to see me again this weekend. By now he's probably told his family that he found me again. I can't face them, it's just so humiliating! I…I didn't tell him anything about you, Erik. I just told him I was living with someone, that's all."

He frowned in confusion, "Why didn't you tell him about us?"

Christine turned away from him, "The great Erik Latour, keeping a stripper as his mistress. That's not good for business," she said.

Was she trying to imply that their arrangement could incite some kind of scandal? That she wanted to remain as his dirty secret?

"Don't think that way." Erik told her, kissing her bare shoulder.

"Have you told your friends about us?" She asked as she traced a scar on his chest.

"I don't have many friends to begin with, but of course Claudette knows, as does Derek, a few close people at my offices and the opera…they don't know about what happened in Miami, Christine. That's not mine to tell."

Christine dropped a soft kiss on his chest by way of thanks. "You're a good man, Erik. A great man. More than I deserve. I don't want this to end."

He frowned again, uncertain of her meaning. "It doesn't have to, Christine. We've only just begun."

There was a long, telling silence. Then, "I want to believe you."