Disclaimer: -sigh- I only own a few li'l characters here, but nothing directly related to Phantom. Shucks!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Monsieur le Viscomte," Francois bowed. "I have news of Mademoiselle Daae as you requested."
Raoul stood from his desk chair with an expectant air. "And what news is that?"
"She was taken to a small seamstress shop in Paris, according to the driver. He is willing to take you there on the morrow, if you wish."
"A seamstress shop?" Raoul repeated, surprised. "What on earth would she be doing at a place like that?" He rubbed his slightly stubbled chin as if lost in thought. "Thank you, Francois. Please tell my driver that I shall be going there in the morning. That will be all."
"Yes, Viscomte," Francois bowed and left the room.
Raoul walked to the window of his study, gazing absently at the stars in the night sky. "Christine…" he sighed. "I must have you back in my life. I must."
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Erik and Christine thanked Father Michel for his hospitality. "I don't know what you mean," the old priest chuckled. "I didn't do anything at all." He feigned a look of innocence for a moment and then burst into laughter.
Erik smiled and patted him on the back. "Yes, well…you've apparently been a friend to both of us in our times of need. And you have helped us more than you know," he winked.
Christine smiled and couldn't resist hugging the old man's neck and pecking him on his cheek. "Thank you, Father. I will see you soon." Father Michel blushed profusely and laughed. "My goodness, Mademoiselle, you certainly are a most sweet and thoughtful young lady. Take good care of her, my boy," he winked, glancing at Erik.
Erik nodded and pulled the cowl of his cloak up over his head. "Keep the wine, Father," he said. "Perhaps we will make use of it on another one of my visits." He put his arm around Christine's shoulders and they stepped out the doors into the night air.
"I need to hail a cab for us," he said. "I came by way of the Laurent carriage, but I sent it back, not knowing how long I would be visiting." Christine nodded, gazing up at his face, partially shadowed by his cloak. Her body quivered with excitement, as if anticipating something wonderful, and she had no idea why. She had forgotten that Erik always made her feel that way. Suddenly, she was emboldened and wrapped one of her arms around his waist. He gasped and turned to look down at her. She smiled up at him, and he squeezed her shoulders more tightly with his one arm. He tenderly brushed a stray curl away from her face with his free hand, and turned from her as he heard a cab approaching. He hailed it and was going to direct the driver to the seamstress shop, but he suddenly realized that he had no idea of its location. He glanced down at Christine, and she seemed to understand his hesitation. She smiled up at the driver, giving him the address, as Erik placed his hand on the small of her back to help her inside, making certain that the driver could not see his masked face.
Christine seated herself on one side of the cab and gingerly arranged her dress around her. Erik climbed in after her and closed the door, settling himself on the opposite seat. The cab jerked to a start, and Christine's hand shot out to the seat next to her to steady herself. Erik smiled at her. They did not speak for a few moments, content to gaze at each other in wonder. Finally, Erik cleared his throat. "Christine, may…may I see you again?"
She laughed. "Of course, Erik! If you didn't, I don't know what I would do," she smiled tenderly, reaching out to hold his hand. As she looked down at his hands, a thought came to her. "I remember the first time you held my hand, Erik." He raised an eyebrow quizzically. She laughed. "Do you know when it was?"
"I believe that it was the night that I came for you…through your dressing room mirror, was it not?"
"No, that isn't what I mean. I mean…you always wore those black gloves…until the night of your opera." She shyly looked away.
Erik grinned slyly. "I do believe that I did more than simply 'hold your hand' that night, mon ange."
She looked into his eyes, her voice sounding low and seductive. "Yes, you did…and I have yearned in my dreams for you to touch me that way again." Her lips were parted and they were a delicate shade of pink in the dim light of the cab. Erik inhaled audibly through his nostrils. He watched her eyes as they searched his face for a response. He lifted off of his seat, moving to rest beside her. She was constantly in awe of the grace in each of his movements.
"Christine," he breathed, as he turned her to face him, and drew his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. "You are so very beautiful," he whispered, lowering his mouth at last to claim hers in a tender kiss. He had waited for this moment for what seemed an eternity—to taste her again, to feel the warmth of her mouth on his own. She melted into him and moaned delicately in her throat. He felt passion surging through his veins at the sound, and he pressed his mouth to hers with greater fervency. He wanted more…he wanted to be closer, yet he felt that he would never be close enough. He felt her breathing begin to quicken, and he tightened his arm around her waist. As he weaved his free hand through her thick curls, tilting her head back slightly to allow him greater access to her, Christine felt a strange yearning growing in her belly. She pressed herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their pace was becoming frantic, and a warning sounded in Erik's mind. He slowed his movements and pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead on Christine's. "Mon amour," he whispered breathlessly, "I…have to stop now…for both our sakes."
Christine closed her eyes and was relieved when he did not pull away from their embrace. "I love you so much, my beautiful Angel," she whispered against his lips. "I have longed for this. I have dreamed of kissing you again ever since…that awful night." She began to tremble, and he gently drew her head down to his chest, leaning back against the wall of the cab. His heart was nearly bursting with love for her. My angel…in my arms at last.
"I have longed for you as well, mon ange," he whispered, stroking her hair gently. "Please…let us not speak of that night any longer. As I told you before, it is time for us to begin again. I have changed since that night…as have you, Christine." He kissed the top of her head as the cab halted abruptly. "It seems that we are here already."
She sighed in frustration. "I want this night to go on forever."
He lifted her chin and she met his gaze. "Christine, I pray that we will have many more nights like this…in the future." He smiled at her, and she thought she saw his eyes beginning to moisten.
"Come, let me walk you to the door." He opened the cab door and helped her to step down. He instructed the driver to wait a moment and he turned to walk her to the back of the shop.
"Would you like to step inside…just for a moment? I want you to see where I am employed," she stated, with a hint of pride in her voice.
"Of course. I would be honored," he bowed. She giggled. She turned the doorknob, glad that it was still unlocked. She hoped that no one had entered the shop when she had gone…she would have felt terribly guilty if any theft had occurred.
"This is the kitchen, as you can see," she gestured in a sweeping motion. "And in here is the storefront. My room is just up those stairs to the right."
"Hmmm. Aren't you going to show me your sleeping quarters?" he breathed, leaning in closer to her, grinning devilishly.
"Erik, you are purposely trying to make me blush!" she exclaimed, half laughing, half gasping in surprise.
"Only because you are beautiful when you blush, mon ange."
She laughed again and hugged him around his waist. He responded by wrapping his arms about her shoulders. "I'm afraid that I must be going. I have a deadline to meet for the architects I now work for."
She beamed at him. "I should very much like to see some of your work soon, Erik."
"Of course," he smiled. "May I…visit you tomorrow evening after the shop closes?"
"Yes," she laughed softly. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. "Where will we be going?"
"Ah, mon amour, you forget that I am an expert at keeping secrets," he laughed. "I will come at, shall we say, six o'clock? Perhaps we can have our supper together." He couldn't believe what he was saying. We are together now. Thank you, Lord…You have been far too good to me…more than I will ever deserve.
"That sounds lovely," she said softly, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. He pulled her in closer and placed one hand at the base of her head, tilting her face toward him.
"Until tomorrow, then," he whispered back to her, placing a feather-light kiss upon her still swollen and slightly reddened lips. He left her wanting more, as he always had, but she simply smiled up at him and nodded. And then he was gone, out the door and disappearing into the darkness once more. Christine locked the door and shook her head, turning toward the stairs. In many ways, my darling Erik, you are still a Phantom, she chuckled to herself.
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Christine was awakened by the sound of a harsh rapping on her door. Madame Dubois' voice was somewhat muffled as she called to her. "Seven o' clock, Mademoiselle! Time to wake up!"
She stretched like a cat and yawned. Opening her eyes, she stared at the blank, yellow-tinged ceiling. She smiled at the memory of Erik's kisses and caresses the night before. Can this really be happening? she marveled. Is it all just a beautiful dream? She quickly dressed, wishing that she could soak in a hot bath. Her neck and shoulders ached slightly from sitting hunched over the sewing machine for hours the previous day. She pulled her hair back from her face and secured it, allowing the remainder to fall loosely around her shoulders. Glancing around the small room, she sighed. Perhaps one day soon I will be able to afford a small flat of my own. She was encouraged at the thought, and stepped out into the hallway, descending the steep stairs.
Madame Dubois glanced up at her as she entered the kitchen. "So, Christine, how was your first night here?" The older woman looked at her smugly, knowing that the room was nothing more than a tiny hole with a creaky bed. "It was just fine, thank you, Madame. I slept very soundly." She smiled, and Madame Dubois' jaw dropped slightly. "I-I'm afraid that my stomach is demanding breakfast of some sort. You wouldn't perhaps have some croissants and jam here, would you?"
Madame Dubois laughed mockingly. "What do you think this is, dearie, an inn? There's a bakery up the street a few blocks, if you want breakfast. We'll open the doors at eight o'clock, so be back by then."
Christine stared at her, surprised at her tone. "M-Madame, I didn't mean to offend you…I apologize. I am very grateful for the room. But…I'm afraid that I don't have any money to buy my breakfast." She looked away, feeling rather helpless at that moment.
"Oh, alright, then. Don't go around looking like a dog that's lost his bone! I'll give you a small advance on your wages so that you can have your breakfast," Madame winked at Christine. "Here. Should be more than enough." She handed her some money and Christine looked at her curiously. This woman certainly does keep me guessing!
"Well, what are you waiting for? You'd best hurry off now or you'll be late getting back."
Christine thanked her and threw her shawl over her shoulders, scurrying out the back door and in the direction that Madame Dubois had instructed her. She came back fifteen minutes later, carrying a sack with two croissants and a sweet roll. She slipped around to the back and walked into the kitchen. Madame Dubois raised her eyebrows when she saw Christine's purchases. "Hungry, are we?" she laughed.
"I…I thought perhaps I could save some…for my lunch," she blushed, embarrassed. "I felt badly that you had to share your food with me yesterday, Madame."
Madame Dubois softened. "Nonsense, Christine. The food here in the kitchen is for those who work here. And that now includes you," she winked. "Now, hurry up and eat. I have a few different things that need to be attended to today."
Christine eagerly bit into the sweet roll, savoring each delectable bite. She licked the icing off of her fingers as she had since she was a child. She retrieved some milk that was in the kitchen, sniffing it first to make certain that it wasn't spoiled. She drank it down and closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare herself for the day ahead. "Lord," she whispered, "help me through this. I am so unsure of myself here…and I have so much to learn."
She was lost in thought as she heard Madame Dubois cutting strips of fabric in the storefront. Neither one of them noticed the black carriage with the gold crest on the door that had parked in front of the shop.
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A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed! Hey, now that I have my stats back, I can see that a lot of you have read the last couple of chapters but haven't dropped me a line! C'mon! Feedback is always nice. And I don't bite...really! -chuckles-