Hey all! (thanks for all the birthday wishes, BTW) Who's up for another chappie?

Hugs to reviewers!

carkeys: glad you like it. Thank you!

Midnight Tango: hee hee, it's an interesting mix. I hope you like the next chunk. Thank you!

Shadow Fox Forever: Glad you're still hanging in there. Thank you!

twinlady: -:song:- thank you, thank you, thank you very much,and I- I'm glad that you liiiiiikkeee it. (Yeah, if you by some miracle pick the same tune it'll be really cool but otherwise it's rather stupid)

potostfbeyeluvr: Yay! (attempts to reel in further) Hope you enjoy the next chapter. Thank you!

Neori: hope this was soon enough. Thank you!

MagickAlianne (or La Femme Fadora if you prefer): Yay for Mark in your story (chuckles, that still rocks) and updated. Thank you!

nightbug08: I don't really know...it's just an expression...stop ruining my illusions:) Thank you!

Well you guys all rock my socks.

Alright, in this chapter Erik and Christine are actually going to meet! (sort of)

Now, diving in...

Christine awoke to much the same routine the next morning and the one after that. Again she asked Raoul to join her for a fainéant afternoon walk to escape the walls and he declined, favoring seclusion. But a few days later after she'd returned from a short horseback ride to the sound of crashing furniture. Closing her eyes, she rallied her courage and ran to Raoul's study.

"Raoul! Calm down!" Christine yelled through the thick wooden door. "Tell me what's wrong."

The door opened jerkily and Christine gasped at his bloodshot eyes and haggard appearance. She could smell alcohol on his breath but didn't hesitate to embrace him and run her fingers through unwashed hair in an effort to soothe him. Her efforts were rewarded as he relaxed and drew back into his study, gesturing for her to follow. Christine obeyed and settled next to him on the chaise. Raoul held his head in his hands and for a moment neither moved.

Finally, Raoul spoke in a low voice: "Apparently their master stonemason died a few days ago. The imbecile was killed at the Opera Populaire." Raoul chuckled mirthlessly. "Even without the ghost there's still danger in every board of that building. They said it would take another week or two and I'll have to pick it up personally. All I wanted was to honor my brother's name, to give him a last bit of dignity. But I can't even seem to do that right."

"Raoul, this isn't your fault."

"Christine, I should have been there for him. He was my brother."

Christine brought Raoul's head to her shoulder as he cried out his guilt while she murmured reassurances in his ears.

After Raoul had calmed again, Christine spoke up, "I will go to town to fetch Philippe's gravestone, Raoul, if you will stay here and get some proper rest and something to eat."

Raoul looked at her briefly then closed his eyes and nodded. He knew he was being selfish, sending Christine on such an errand, yet he had no desire to leave these walls and face the world again. He took Christine's hand and kissed it lightly. She rose to leave. She would have to pack; Paris awaited her and it was a long journey.

∞†∞

Philippe had a point; given time a man could get used to anything.

Against his will, Erik was forming a friendship with his strange companion. Their shared experiences and the skills Philippe was teaching him had slowly taught Erik to tolerate Philippe's unique personality. Each day, Erik grew bolder in his new abilities and soon the duo terrorized half of Paris.

After around a week, Philippe began to teach Erik how to transform into the traditional bat. It was a difficult process to say the least. Once Erik formed only the wings and Philippe doubled into fits of laughter while Erik gave an ear-piercing screech like a true bat. Another instance, Erik had just transformed back to human form…excluding the ears. It had taken him another twenty minutes to return them to normal, Philippe too caught in his mirth to be of any assistance.

"So how long can I stay as a bat?"

"Well, that depends. I can only keep the form for about five hours, some can for longer."

"What happens when you run out of time?"

"You simply return to human form exactly where you are, be it twenty feet above the ground or from the ceiling of an unsuspecting woman. Come let's work on your sonar. For a man who can pick up any song by ear, you have a horrible time using it to get around."

Erik admitted to himself this much was true; he'd hit the walls more times than he could count but he wasn't about to give Philippe the satisfaction.

The time quickly passed and Erik grinned at Philippe, "Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Shall we?"

In response, Philippe elegantly shifted into his animal form. "Where should we go tonight?"

∞†∞

Christine struggled with her packages. Since she was in town, she'd taken full advantage of the proximity of her favorite shops, acquiring much needed items for their home. It had been a fast week. She'd met with the Meg and Madame Giry and was grateful to see both were well and eagerly awaiting for the opera to flourish again. Meg asked Christine what day they had set to which Christine experienced one of the most awkward replies of her life. Mme Giry was kind enough to step in and save her further embarrassment.

Now here she was, having just spoken with the tombstone carver for much longer than expected and walking the dark streets of Paris. She sneezed lightly, a result of a fearful cold she'd caught during her travels. Taking a moment to tuck her errant lock back, she loaded up her arms again and walked down the alleys, a shortcut.

"Don't move."

Christine froze as cold steel was pushed against her throat. The man withheld the pressure but moved around to face her. With a confidence she didn't know she possessed, she glared into her assailant's eyes…and delivered a mighty kick to his shins. Shocked, the mugger dropped his weapon and Christine bolted, leaving her belongings behind. She could hear the man's footsteps echo behind her as he chased after her.

∞†∞

Erik flapped his wings gently, enjoying the rush of wind as it flowed through his fur.

Soaring next to him, Philippe yelled, "I see mine. I'll meet you back at the lair."

Erik bid his companion farewell and sought his own victim. Instead, he saw something else that caught his attention: a woman pursued by a man bearing a blade. He grinned to himself and dropped lower.

As Erik drew closer and closer to the man (he too absorbed in his own prey to notice his hunter) he slowly morphed out of his bat form and, instead of clawed feet, Erik reached down with his strong hands and pulled the man up by his shoulders. Erik glided through the air, still gripping the man's struggling form feet above the earth. He hissed as the man's knife tore his hand. Erik threw the man aside as it fell to a crumple heap; then he turned the body to face him only to see that the man had been stabbed by his own knife. I'll come back later if I'm still hungry.

Melting into shadow, Erik followed the woman. He caught up with her quickly.

∞†∞

Christine gasped as a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind. Struggling violently out of the grip, she continued to run as fast as her weary legs would carry her. Moments later, large hands again seized her shoulders but this time, she was lifted into the air. She tried to scream but soon one of those hands clamped over her mouth. Her chest heaved as Christine fought the effects of her sprint and her fear, air more difficult to pull through the strange filter blocking her oxygen.

The same barrier muffled another scream as she felt the skin of her neck broken, pierced by unseen means.

∞†∞

Well, TECHNICALLY they did meet again, now didn't they? Guys? (small voice/whimper) guys? Oh, I'm in so much trouble aren't I? (precise, fluid arm movements and an incantation under breath. HA, force field!)

Love it or hate it, please, let me know! Then I'll update (malevolent smile).