Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! It's been an unforgivably long time since I updated this, and I just hope that everyone will be understanding. I'm still alive and working on "All Through The Night" as you can see... and I will continue to work on both this piece and "For What It's Worth" my other Phantom fic.

Please, please please Review!
K.S,

The Spirit Gently Stealing

Christine:

"Miss Daae will be performing the role of Serafino, the mute." The announcement made my blood run cold. After I had single-handedly saved their opera, they did this to me. But of course they would. Carlotta was a name- I was a jumped-up chorus girl. Don't think I misunderstood the looks the managers were giving me, and turning upon poor Raoul de Chagny. They thought we were lovers! The idea would be rather insulting if it weren't so ridiculous!

And so we rehearsed- I felt like a puppet being jerked by her strings, inept hands tangling me up. And I had to learn Carlotta's score… for the simple fact that Reyer came to me after the announcement and whispered a rather unusual warning to me.

"I've made a copy of the role. Learn it; you never know what might happen in this place. And, mam'selle, let's keep this to ourselves. No need to bother the managers with the idea of an understudy." He patted my hand and winked! I never even contemplated the idea that stuffy old Reyer might have a sense of humor. These past days have been an education that things and especially people are never truly what they seem. Reyer can have a sense of humor, and Madame Giry has soothed my hurt feelings- she is as mysterious as ever, but she has been so much gentler since my encounter with the Phantom….

And so, day by day, I stood by, silent, as Carlotta paraded about, making sneering comments about my morals, all the while sneaking off to her reclaimed dressing room to cavort with Piangi. After an aborted visit to the chapel, where I called to him; there was no answer, and so I did not return. I practiced the part of the Countess that Reyer had given to me alone, without instruction. But I worked so hard at it; I knew that even without my Angel's tutelage, I still sang it better than La Carlotta.

But knowing that still didn't prevent me from crying myself to sleep at night. Is it any wonder when the Vicomte de Chagny came round, asking me to dinner, teasing me with chocolates, that I took the chocolates and laughed at his sallies? But behind it all, I was so terribly lonely for my Angel. I would catch myself humming the tune, and quickly silencing my rebellious tongue.

If only I could work up the courage- to either go to him, or to cut the very thought of him from my mind! But the thought of him, in that underground cavern, all alone was enough to wrench my heart. Yet I just didn't have the strength- I didn't have the strength to do either or… and so I just floated in a limbo while the world went by around me. I didn't have the strength… until he came to me.

Erik:

If only I had the strength. If only I had the strength to go to her- and beg her on my knees to end my suffering. But I'm a coward- I couldn't answer her when she called out to me, despairing, and now it is too late. I'm nothing more than a shadow, following her and making certain no ill befalls her.

Not that she has noticed, I stay far enough off so that she cannot sense my presence- she is far too sensitive for me to follow too closely. Her gilded gingerbread boy has not noticed anything amiss… not that he notices much as a rule, I suspect.

Oh, I ached for her though, having to face that bitch, Carlotta, in her seeming triumph. No matter, I shall soon wipe that sneering smirk off that toad's rouged faced… Ah yes, a toad in rouge and powder, croaking before Paris. Such an evocative image, one I think I shall have to bring to life.

Only once did I come out of my self-imposed exile- and that was for a very good reason. Joseph Buquet… The lecherous swine was always following the ballerinas- trying to get a good look at them in their skins, no doubt. Once he nearly cornered Christine, by herself, on the way back to the dormitories from the chapel. In I swooped between the vile stagehand and his unsuspecting prey. Christine went on her way, not knowing how close a brush with danger she'd had.

"Indulge in your filthy habits elsewhere. Christine Daae is off limits, Buquet… unless of course you have a death wish?" I said in my softest, most dangerous voice. I waited a moment, and was rewarded by the acrid stench of urine. Buquet had pissed himself! Hopefully I put the fear of God, the Devil and the Phantom in the bastard.

Passing through unseen corridors, I soon caught up with Christine. She was alone in the dormitories; the other young members of the corps de ballet were enduring a late rehearsal. Keeping to the shadows, I spoke, "Be more careful, cherie. Buquet likes to come upon girls unawares, and he was following you till I intercepted him."
"Where… where are you? Show yourself!" Christine called out, and so I did- the white mask and the relative pallor of my face surrounded by the black shadows. When she barreled into me, she knocked the wind out of me, and I was even in more shock when she began to hit me with her little fists.

"How could you! How could you leave me to the wolves like that? I called for you, cried my eyes out and you still never came! I- I thought you cared, and here you only came to warn me about that foul stagehand?!" She was crying, and I could not tell if her tears were from real misery or plain and simple fury, or a combination of both. But how could I answer her accusations? Hadn't I tried to rationalize them to myself over and over again in the past month? She stopped hitting me and just allowed herself to cradle in my arms, weeping into my waistcoat.

"I… I was frightened, Christine. I thought you never wanted to see me again, and I didn't blame you for it." I trembled at her closeness.

"I never got to say that I was sorry. Please don't leave me alone like that ever again." They weren't words of love, but they were so sweet to my ears! I leaned my head down and rested the left side of my face, the unblemished side, on her hair. This had to be the most perfect moment of my life! She had seen my face, unmasked, and my temper at it's most uncertain- and still she stood, her arms wrapped about me, head tucked against my shoulder. All that was lacking was… a kiss… I leaned my head down, and she tilted her face upwards- close… she was so close!

And then, "Christine!" It was that damned boy! We jumped apart, and she looked fearfully about her.

"I shall take my leave of you, Mam'selle… till next time, my angel." And as I let my voice fade away, I once again found refuge in the secret passage, where I could see her flushed face and the confused one of the boy.

"Who were you talking to, Christine? I thought I heard some man's voice."

"You know the acoustics of the building plays tricks on people, Raoul. No doubt you heard something from the stage or elsewhere." She replied coolly. Well, let the boy look for me to his heart's content- he won't find me, and now I know that Christine shan't give away my secret. And perhaps, just perhaps, hope isn't lost. I very nearly kissed her back there, and she didn't run away or scream or faint in my arms… maybe, just maybe, I will have my happily ever after.

Post-Note

There you are... next is the disastrous performance of Il Muto, and the scene on top of the roof of the Opera. What will come to our hero and his lady... I'm not certain yet, but I aim to find out.

Cheers

K.S.