This chapter has a little bit of R/C loving in it, it is something I rarely write, but I want to establish that Christine really does love Raoul as a husband. Her love for Erik is just as strong, but she loves him as a best friend; something he doesn't quite understand.

The chapters, in case you haven't noticed, alternate between the two different places - and they will until Erik and Lavanya meet; then we will concentrate on their lives - with a few glances into the lives of those around them.

I have so many ideas in mind for this story - it could be quite long; we shall see.

Thanks goes out to my wonderful beta, Mlle.Fox - "You're, quite simply, the best!!"

DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS

CHAPTER 9

December 1875; Paris, France

Raoul sat straight, staring pointedly at nothing in particular, as André and Firmin plead their case. Every angle he could think of had been explored; there was nothing to be done about the opera house.

"My family will not keep putting money into this if there is nothing coming out of it; the last couple of years have profited nothing and I cannot make excuses for the losses anymore, I am sorry."

"Perhaps if Madam de Chagny would continue as our diva…"

"My family will not allow it – it does not befit her station; besides, we have just found out that we are going to have a baby."

They all looked around the room, making brief eye contact; but nobody spoke for what seemed like forever.

"Performing is out of the question…" Raoul noticed the scowl he received from Madam Giry and the two managers, "…it is not my decision; it was hers."

Gilles André finally spoke up, after fearing that the answer he would get would bruise his already wounded pride even more.

"She does not care for the quality of material we are using, does she?"

Although it was true, Raoul had no inclination to hurt Gilles – the man had done the best he could do, given the circumstances. In truth, Raoul's oldest brother, Philip, was pressuring him to abandon all ties with the opera house. He had highly disagreed with Raoul's decision to marry Christine – so much so, that it had caused a rift between them.

"No Monsieur André, she is just not happy…she misses…."

Raoul's thoughts wandered to a place he had no desire to go. He knew whom she missed, and it still caused him pain.

He had forgiven Erik long ago…the man had done nothing more than Raoul would have done had the roles been reversed. However, that made it no easier to accept the fact that his wife would always harbor a love for her mysterious and beautiful teacher that Raoul would never understand; nor would he ever be rid of it.

"We have to find another way…my family is not going to keep this up."

Richard walked over to Annette's slight form and took her arm; he led her over to the couch and indicated for her to sit. He sat down beside her, smiling his most charming smile and doing his best to win her heart.

"Annette, you once told me that you know where he is, have you asked him to return?"

She nodded only slightly, answering his question with little doubt.

"Has he responded?"

She dropped her eyes to the floor and twisted her hands together.

"His answer was clear – he does not wish to return. He has begun a new life and it is going well for him."

Raoul sat back in the chair and listened to the exchange of words between the two. He found it rather amusing that Firmin continued to pursue Annette Giry, even though she told him that she was not interested; of course, sometimes her eyes said otherwise.

"But France is his home."

Annette laughed and rolled her eyes at him.

" Richard, France is the latest in a long line of places in which he has spent considerable time."

"So, where does he call home?"

She frowned and looked around the room; each man seemed interested in what she had to say.

"I do not believe he has ever called anywhere 'home'."

Richard moved closer to her, trying to gain a place in her heart. He took her small hand in his and raised it to his lips, causing a twitter in her stomach that Annette had been trying to avoid ever since Richard began his ridiculous pursuit of her.

"You always seemed more interested in the younger girls Monsieur Firmin, why the sudden interest in me?"

Richard had the good manners to look aghast at her observation.

"I think you have me mistaken for my wayward partner."

She raised her brow and pursed her lips at him; her tone was playfully doubtful.

"Really?"

He looked deep into her smoky gray eyes and smiled rakishly.

"You are a handsome woman, Annette; I have never failed to see that."

She did not think it was possible, but she felt a blush color her cheeks and send her heart racing.

If she wasn't careful, Richard Firmin would have her heart…and she wasn't sure she was ready to give it.

♦♣♠♥

OPERA POPULAIRE TO CLOSE ITS DOORS FOR GOOD?

After three years of struggling and not having much luck, the World Famous Opera Populaire may have to close its doors for good. This reporter has it on good authority that the family de Chagny is considering a complete withdrawal of funding, effective immediately.

The fire of almost four years ago can hardly be blamed for this most recent failure. The damage was minor and the repairs were made rather quickly; the results were as even more beautiful and stately opera house than the first.

What cannot be explained are the sad, uninspired performances that have lately been coming out of the opera house. There is no real talent left among those who remain. Many have moved on, pursuing careers in other countries or opera houses, but there are a few that have stayed.

Madam Annette Giry and her lovely daughter, Meg Giry, have stayed on with the Populaire; in fact, Meg Giry is the one remaining light amongst the dark cloud of doom that has settled over the Opera Populaire. We have lost Christine Daae to the de Chagny family, and she may never preform again - it is a sad situation for Paris and avid opera attendees.

Where is the Phantom? This never happened when he was here. His obscure sightings kept people coming back for more; and rumor has it, he was actually the composer of most of the opera's, plays, and musical plays that were performed – other than the obvious works of the popular composers.

I say, along with most of France, bring him back. We need him if the Opera Populaire is to survive another season. Wherever you are, Phantom, Paris needs you – please forgive us, stop all of this foolishness, and come home – or we all lose.

Stefan Cassius

The article sent Christine's mood into the darkness. What were they going to do? They couldn't let the opera house close, it just did not seem right; her angel would not have allowed it.

Her hand rested on her slightly swollen abdomen. The child she and Raoul had created rested safely within her body, shielded from the outer world – if only she could be shielded when it all seemed overwhelming.

"I want you to have the music, my child; the music that moved my soul and filled me with such wonder…"

She spoke quietly to her daughter – at least she hoped it was a daughter – Raoul wanted a son, but a girl would be so wonderful.

"Your father does not understand the hold of the music – but he appreciates it. I had hoped that my angel would be here by now and he would teach you as he did me."

Raoul stood in the doorway and watched her. His heart swelled with the love he harbored for her and his unborn child. There was nothing he wouldn't do for either one of them.

"He may yet come, my love…do not fret."

She heard his voice and turned to him, smiling with a warmth that never ceased to steal his breath.

"Raoul…how did the meeting go?"

The tree outside the window painted dancing shadows on the walls. The snow was beginning to fall, and the wind was whipping through the tree with force. It hadn't been long ago that Christine dreaded winter, but as the Christmas season approached, she found the wonder of it had once again beguiled her.

"They are all upset, as expected. I just wish there was something more that I could do."

"Is there a chance that another patron will come forth?"

Raoul went over to the fireplace and placed the logs strategically in place, then struck a match. He watched the sparks and trickling embers as they began to build and the crackling sound of burning wood filled the room.

"There is no one, Christine…it is just too much of a risk. In order to invest, there would have to be some sign of recovery and the Opera Populaire has done nothing but go down hill – I see no way out – and you know Philip."

It bothered them both. The history of the building was intricately entwined with Paris history and it seemed as though a part of the city was dying with the loss of the Opera Populaire.

Christine walked over to the fireplace and stood beside him. She watched the flames flirt with each other and smiled sadly.

"It is a good thing my father is not alive to see this…he would give his dying breath to save the opera house; nothing would have stopped him."

She quietly walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed; she covered her face with her hands and quietly wept. Raoul went to her, wrapping her in his strong arms. He buried her head in his shoulder and softly moved his hand through her hair.

"What is it, Christine…tell me?"

She did not look at him, but she spoke quietly; pushing the tears away with her fingers.

"Why does everything have to change, Raoul…why can it not stay the same?"

She searched his handsome face for answers, not really expecting him to have them – but finding strength in his familiar hazel eyes and angular features. His warm, tender smile filled her aching heart and she couldn't keep from smiling back at him.

"I want the Opera Populaire and all the history that is linked to it to remain intact…is that asking too much? Every possible angle has been explored and it seems as though we are going to lose the only home I knew for many years."

He gripped her hands in his, massaging the soft skin of her palms with his thumbs. He met her gaze with his and smiled calmly.

"If there is an answer to this problem, I will find it; I promise you."

She smiled at that, lifted her hand and cupped his smooth cheek. He would give anything to keep the love in her eyes – the love she looked through when she looked at him.

"I know you will."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to lie atop her on the bed. He started to scramble away, thinking he would hurt the baby.

"Oh stop it, we were far more intimate than this before I found out I was pregnant."

He smiled down at her and relaxed. The idea of his child growing within her was the most erotic thing Raoul had ever experienced; and the feel of her beneath him aroused him quickly.

"If being pregnant makes you this frisky, I shall have to get you this way all the time."

She moved her mouth to his ear and wound her tongue around the outer surface, making him tremble with need.

"It is not being pregnant that does this to me, it is you…and we are stopping after we have two children..." her tone was teasing and haughty, "...I have spoken."

Raoul pulled away from her searching tongue and smirked at her.

"Stopping?"

She smiled again, filling Raoul's heart with joy. The ornery look on her face made his loins ache and he knew she was playing with him when she spoke the next words.

"Of course…you shall never touch me again, Raoul de Chagny…"

She pulled him down to her eager lips, and claimed his mouth in a hungry kiss. She moaned against him, wanting more of him against her.

"How long has it been?" She pleaded.

Raoul moved his lips down the soft slope of her neck and grazed his teeth along the racing pulse that signaled her building desire.

He tickled the throbbing pulse with the tip of his tongue and gently passed his palm over the swell of her tender breast. She moaned and pressed her body into his touch, needing everything he could give her.

"Too long." He murmured.

His eager mouth moved down the lacey collar of her sleeping gown and he covered her hardened peak with his mouth, feeling her surge against him in anticipation of what was to come.

Christine felt a surge of desire fill her with a palpable need that she would not ignore. Her body was sensitive in many areas and she felt the need of him so profusely.

She moved her hand down to grasp his engorged flesh and moved rhythmically against him. He reared back and smirked roguishly at her.

"Face it my love, I will be touching you like this until we are old and gray."

Christine unfastened his belt and started on his pants….her hands frantic and impatient. She kissed him with a fierce need and then plunged her hand down inside his pants, finally feeling his warm flesh swell even more with her touch.

"Be quiet and make love to me."

He smiled seductively and lifted the hem of her gown.

"As you wish, my lady."

TBC