A/N: This was just some random inspiration that I had while browsing through my iPod and rediscovering my love for Phantom of the Opera. It's a oneshot that I haven't been able to get out of my head all week.

Please review after reading! :) It would please me very much if you would let me know what you thought. Even if you hated it.

There are a couple of slight references to the book, but this is in the musical section because it is primary musical based. :)

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Phantom. No money was made off of this. It's purely for my own sick enjoyment.

Christine was sitting at the organ beneath the opera house, marveling at its beauty and mystery. Despite being raise with the sounds of music she had never learned to play. She had only learned to sing. With wonder, Christine ran her fingers up and down the keys with a light touch. She didn't want to disturb Erik's organ because she knew how he could get about those sorts of things. The last thing she wanted was an argument.

Finally, Christine ripped her gaze away from the organ to look around her new home. It had been dark at first, but Erik always took great care to keep it well lit to help her adjust and it was always warm. Christine never spent a night with chill. She had a memory in every part of this domain now that she started living there. The two of them spent countless hours singing and rehearsing by the organ and also time reading in the various rooms surrounding them. Not to mention the times they had amused themselves with talking and getting to know each other better. Every part of this place was familiar to Christine and she had quickly learned to love it.

It was his. And now it was hers, too.

In the distance, Christine could hear Erik returning. He must have been coming through one of his many entrances, one that Christine probably didn't know of. Erik claimed that most of them were dangerous and that she should only come and go by the gondola. She didn't particularly mind. The boat seemed the safest of the choices, despite whatever might be in the water.

"Christine?" Erik's voice tentatively called. His footsteps drew closer and Christine smiled at his hesitancy.

"I'm here," she replied and stood up from the organ. She didn't think he would mind but then again… he was rather protective over such things.

Erik entered the room and smiled at her through his mask. "I thought you might be up getting ready for your rehearsal. It's only a few hours away."

Christine continued to sing in the operas despite her residency with Erik. Most of them didn't know of it and Christine preferred to keep it this way. She came when she was supposed to and she left at the appropriate times. None questioned her. However, Meg Giry often seemed to be bursting with questions and Meg's mother, Madam Giry, usually glanced at Christine knowingly. Still, Christine managed to keep her secret between herself and Erik.

"I was hoping to perhaps practice a bit more with you first," she admitted. "I want to be ready for rehearsal. I have the lead and they all expect much from me."

"Of course," Erik agreed, "You needn't even ask." He held a steady gaze upon her and Christine's heart fluttered. His look was intense and Christine couldn't help but love it when he looked at her this way. She had his full attention and admiration. And even if he didn't know it, he had hers as well.

"Your aria?" he asked, already knowing what Christine would request. "You're very close to perfecting it. I've never heard you sing so beautifully." Erik always told her this whenever she sang something new for him. He took great care to keep her ego thriving through flattery as well as the occasional criticism.

When Erik moved towards the organ, however, Christine carefully reached out to touch him. He halted obediently when her hand rested on his shoulder and he turned his head to look at her.

"I missed you this morning," Christine confessed, trying her hardest not to blush. "Nothing pleases me more than when you return home. I want you to know that." For some reason, Erik looked ashamed when Christine told him this. But there was also pleasure in his body language, she could tell. While he praised her singing she again and again affirmed her love for him.

"Thank you." Erik nodded at her and then continued his way to the organ. "From the beginning then, love."

Christine's eyes widened a bit at the affectionate term he used when addressing her. She knew he had difficulty expressing his emotions, especially when intimacy was involved, but a thrill ran through her every time he allowed his romantic feelings show. He could be rather aggressive at times, especially where male leads were concerned, but he was usually timid when it came to their relationship. It seemed to her that Erik strongly believed that he was going to awaken from this dream and Christine would be gone, never to return.

Quickly, Christine opened her mouth to sing and with this new joy rushing through her she easily channeled the sublime feeling of ecstasy that her character was supposed to embody. This was bliss. This was a life that she could live forever.

………………………………….

With a start, Christine woke to the sound of something large and metallic being dropped. A string of curses followed it from the bathroom and Christine tried to hold onto the dream she'd just had. Had it been about Erik? She tuned out the sounds of her husband to try and remember.

If Christine was honest with herself she supposed that she thought about Erik an awful lot. Often these thoughts center on what could have been between them. This was the largest 'what if' in her life and it haunted her frequently. Sometimes she thought about what he might be doing now and if he was even still alive. Would he still be lurking about the opera house, tormenting ballet girls and mangers? She hoped so. She didn't like to think that she had crushed his spirit by leaving. Or worse, that she had actually killed him.

It wasn't that she didn't love Raoul. She truly did. She didn't choose to go with him merely to spite Erik. He was kind and gentle and he spoke to her nature in a lot of ways Erik never could have. The two of them slid into place easily and she had by no means faltered in her wedding vows. Raoul was a perfect husband.

But she would be lying if she told herself that she had never loved Erik, her Angel.

This dream she'd had. She was living with Erik and was still performing in operas. Erik had called her his love and they were going to sing together as they would every day afterward. The memory of how their voices used to meld still sent thrills through Christine's body. Christine would never know the like of it ever again, except in her dreams. Despite her best efforts, Erik would always be at her side in her sleeping thoughts.

Her lingering affection didn't mean that she'd forgotten how he'd frightened her. Or how he had tried to kill Raoul, the man she loved dearly, or nearly killed her as well. His rage and his murderous rampage would never be far from her thoughts either. Shivers, now of fear, took over Christine's body at the memory of his murderous gaze that had often been fixed upon her or those she loved most. Christine merely wondered what would have happened if she'd managed to look past that and stayed with him that fateful night. That was all.

Raoul poked his head into their room and grimaced when he found her awake. "I'm sorry." He was rather breathless. "I dropped the razor and nearly took a couple of my toes off. I didn't mean to wake you."

"There's no need to apologize," Christine assured him with a smile. "It was about time to go check on the baby anyhow."

"I can do that," Raoul offered, his voice nearly pleading with her. "You should go back to sleep and get some rest. I can look after Charles."

Christine, however touched she was at his eager offer, did not trust herself to go back to sleep. That dream was still too near and she was sure she would fall right back into it. She was no longer in any mood to revisit old ghosts. "It's quite all right, Raoul. Thank you, but I'm awake anyway."

Raoul's face twisted in regret but he let her go. He'd learned long ago to trust Christine when she said she wanted to do something. She was a girl who often knew what she wanted and didn't like others to tell her otherwise. It was part of what he loved about her. And in a way, selfishly, this way he knew that she had been absolutely certain when she had left the underground of the opera house with him all those years ago and when she accepted his renewed offer of marriage. He trusted her every time she told him that she loved him. With a contented sigh, Raoul returned to try and shave his face without killing himself.

Christine, however, stood outside of her son's door and watched him sleep. She was not surprised when she began to cry. She would always miss Erik. She would always miss the opera. But she loved her new life and she was reminded of that whenever she saw her husband or her son.

Still, it was hard to let go of old ghosts. She figured that as long as she should live Erik would always be lurking in the background of her life, haunting her with the passionate love in his eyes.