AUTHOR'S NOTE: Funny how you all find that singing girl interesting… g

TheQueenSarah: Yes, I understand what you mean, and you're absolutely right. If you want to make a character seem dark and mysterious, write from another character's point of view. But this was not what I had in mind mainly, it was just to give Raoul a chapter of his own, so to say, and one where I could show the changes he's undergone. Oh dear, I'm really fearing for my OCs now… lol As for your speculation, I won't say anything yet. As for the Phantom's character depth, this is why he's my favourite non-original character ever to write. The darkness in a character gives it such potential, and it makes him so much more interesting than your common "good guy". I'm no stranger to pain and hatred of the whole world, true enough, though I've never yet wasted away with a doomed love. That does not mean I have never yet been in love, though. ;)

Bea: I hoped it would cheer you up a bit before the show, together with those pics I sent you. I hope you didn't miss any overly important points, because there were two in it you shouldn't miss. ;) As for Raoul's drunkenness, I was indeed just imagining what it must be like, you know me (and my dislike for alcohol), after all. Sorry, we can't have Erik's perspective all the time, though I also prefer his point of view to Raoul's. :) No, he won't just take a courtesan. That's not good enough for him. He's a bit more complicated than that. And it offers me the chance of letting you all venture wild guesses… ;-P

The Musician of the Night: You have an un-foolish Raoul, too, so you know what you're talking about. (Ought to check your story again one of these days. Those first four chapters were rather promising.) I have no idea where those lyrics you quote are taken from, either, so I won't be of much help to you.

Ashley: Somehow people keep hating me. lol Does that mean your mother saw you were reading about a severed head? g She must think I have a bad influence on you… ;) You throw stale brownies? Ah, the finer points of aggressive bakery… (Do you read Terry Pratchett? He has battle bread and drop scones… g)

Alisendre: You're back! squeak Let me guess, you've been taming Hun(k)s all the time, right? gg Can't resist a bit of darkness. I always like darkness in my stories, don't I? (The Holiday Special is a bit of an exception, though…) Better than KotC? I don't know. KotC is the original, after all, and you can't beat the original, that's just a rule. (Oh well, my sister keeps insisting the second Tomb Raider movie is better than the first, but that's just because ickle darling Gerry is in it, I bet. lol) Well, we'll have more (and rougher) combat action certainly, and more change of scenery, and more characters, and more flashbacks and fantasy elements in general, but I'm afraid that won't do the trick all by itself… Right, we'll see. :)

VI. Guide and Guardian

Christine found that she was not quite sure about the Phantom. But then, this was nothing new. She never was. He just did not fit into any category she could possibly imagine. He was so… different.

For some reason, it was easier for Meg. Meg seemed to know exactly what she was doing, and when Christine had asked her, she had answered without hesitation that he was like a brother to her, though there were those other moments at times, the moments when there was a draw about him a brother was not supposed to have. Meg knew her feelings, and she had no problems with them, as it seemed.

A brother. If it were that easy…

Yes, at times he was a brother, a loving elder brother who took care of her, who shared her laughter and tears, a friend and guardian. But there was something else, too, every time. Of course, she had fooled around with him just like Meg did, but there was something between them not quite allowing her just to be silly with him. There was something serious, too, all the time. Something so much deeper.

Christine sighed. She could throw a pillow at his head all she liked, but still it was not the same as between him and Meg.

Meg looked up from the book she had been flicking through. "Bedtime?"

Christine nodded. "Probably. I only hope Raoul and Erik are back already."

"I guess so. After all, Raoul will be quite eager to see you for a little longer."

Christine agreed, smiling. She, too, was eager to see her fiancé again. For some reason he had had to go on this excursion of his, but hopefully he was back now.

Bidding goodnight to Madame Giry, whose living room they had been occupying, they went down, all the long way to the cellars. By now they knew several ways to get to the Phantom's lair, including some where it was better to have a boat, but still it was a long way, Christine thought, and a dark way. She did not like the last part, where they had to go through complete darkness carrying a torch. Not that darkness exactly scared her, but she did not like it much. And all the things that might hide in the dark, where she could not see them… She felt better in the light. Once the gentle glow of many candles enveloped them, she breathed easier.

"They're back," Meg noticed. "Or at least Erik's cloak is."

Indeed, the Phantom's black cloak lay in a corner, half over a table. Christine shook her head. Why did he always have to throw it somewhere, instead of putting it away properly?

"And Raoul's jacket," Meg added, pointing.

Following her outstretched hand with her eyes, Christine saw it lying crumpled on the stairs to the bedroom. Sighing, she picked it up as she climbed the steps, while Meg deposited the torch in a rusty metal rack on the wall, obviously made for that purpose. She liked carrying torches, Christine knew. After all, her best friend was a real adventurer.

Entering the only dimly lit bedroom, and automatically stepping over clothes strewn on the floor, she immediately saw both of them – and she had to bite her bottom lip not to laugh. They were fast asleep, Raoul stretched out on his back, his white shirt half unbuttoned and completely crumpled, while the Phantom, not wearing a shirt, but, for some peculiar reason, his waistcoat, lay half on his side, one arm wrapped around Raoul's middle possessively, the other beneath Raoul's neck, and Raoul was huddled against him comfortably.

As silently as possible, Christine edged back to the doorway, gesturing for Meg to join her. "Come quickly," she whispered. "You really need to see this."

Already in her nightshirt, Meg hurried up the stairs and immediately had to stifle a giggle as she saw the two in the bed.

"Sweet, aren't they?"

"Almost certainly drunk," Meg stated. "Both of them."

Christine found that her friend was probably right. There was no other state in which the Phantom would put an arm around her fiancé, not even to please her.

She only hoped they had not been drinking too much.

"Well," Meg suggested merrily as Christine changed into her own nightshirt, "let's squeeze in, shall we?"

"Do you really think we're all going to fit into this bed?" Until now, Christine had not thought about this problem. "Is there room enough?"

Meg shrugged. "I guess so."

"But we'll be rather tight-packed."

Meg giggled. "This is improper. I like it."

"Meg! Really!" Honestly, what was her friend thinking about again? Of course, it really was not exactly proper sleeping in the same bed with a man, and even more with two men, but all the same, no reason to come up with any improper ideas.

Oh well… actually there were quite enough reasons, but Christine quickly banished those thoughts from her mind.

What would Madame Giry say to this? Did she think the Phantom slept in this horrible coffin of his? And had she yet spent any thought on where to place Raoul?

Climbing into the bed, Meg wrapped a woolly blanket around herself, then gave Raoul a gentle nudge. "Hello, sleeping beauty," she purred into his ear. "You're taking up too much space…"

Raoul grunted something completely unintelligible, except for Christine's name, and huddled closer against the Phantom.

"You know," Meg said, clearly amused, "this is a little weird."

Christine smiled. "I rather suspect he thinks Erik is me."

"Oh. He must be pretty drunk, then."

"The same goes for Erik, I'd say, only the other way round." Squatting down beside the bed, Christine gave the Phantom a little poke in the ribs. "Am I correct, Erik?" Strange that he had not woken until now; normally he woke from the softest sound. He was a good guardian, always wary. Yes, Meg must be right, they most certainly were drunk.

There was a growl from the Phantom as he rolled over onto his back, and soon he blinked into the light like a night owl. It took a moment more for him to realize that one of his arms still was around Raoul, but when he did, he snarled immediately. "Out of my bed, kid!"

Raoul did not quite obey, but almost automatically moved over to the other side of the bed, where he curled up once again, grumbling something unintelligible, accompanied by Meg's merry giggles.

The Phantom's eyes remained focused on Christine, filled with a greedy longing he could not quite conceal. And even when she went to join Raoul, she knew, his eyes always followed her. She could feel his desire, too, always at the edge of his awareness, a hunger that could not be sated. And how should it, when it was for her he hungered, for her and no one else?

His dreams must have been filled with his unfulfilled longing again. Poor Erik. He could not have her, and now he would have to share her with Raoul once more.

But on the other hand, she was so happy her fiancé had come back safely; she would not exchange his presence for anything else in the world. When Raoul was there, nothing else mattered, not even Erik. Well, no, of course he was still dear to her heart, but all she longed for now was to hold Raoul tight and never let him go again. Walking around the bed, she slipped in at the other side and snaked an arm around Raoul's waist, while Meg, grinning broadly, took up the place between the two men. It was not that Christine had not played with the idea of huddling in between them, but what she had seen in the Phantom's eyes again just now…

What scared her about it was not that he wanted her; she was aware of that and had practically gotten used to it. It rather was that there were moments when she would return that longing. At times she would find herself yearning for the Phantom's touch, hungry for his gentle caresses and passionate kisses, and the memory of being engaged was hardly sufficient to keep her from doing what she shouldn't. God have mercy on her, but it just felt so… right…

Of course, part of the blame was to go to that extraordinary mental connection between them, certainly, but not all of it. She had already experienced that same feeling when the Phantom had blocked her out, or when she tried to block him out in return. Maybe it was because they shared those strange mental intimacies so regularly, whenever he taught her to find a thought or analyze a sentiment in his head. But no, she had felt drawn to him before that.

Resting her head on Raoul's shoulder, and smiling briefly when her fiancé gave a little grunt and slipped an arm around her in turn, Christine had to admit to herself that the Phantom could not be blamed as much as she would have liked to blame him for his own dark fascination.

Why couldn't he simply be her Angel of Music once again, her guide and guardian?

At least she was ready now to face her feelings, even though she was not quite sure about her feelings sometimes. There was one thing she could be certain of, though: If not for Raoul, it would have been Erik. And he knew just as well as she did.

And all the same, he had not hurt Raoul yet. Slowly but steadily, they were developing a peculiar kind of friendship, against all odds. Because they both loved her. Because they loved her enough to overcome their hatred towards each other for her sake. For this love, the Phantom had taken Raoul in and would let him stay, despite his threats and muttered curses. For this love, Raoul had taken out his strange friend tonight instead of spending all his time with his fiancée. Christine did not quite know what they did when they went out together, only that it seemed to do the Phantom some good.

One day she would ask more closely. But for now, it did not matter; she was too tired.

And so was Raoul, probably. Besides, there was a definite hint of wine in the scent of his skin, a hint she caught even without sniffing the side of his neck, as she liked to do sometimes.

It was something she had learned from the Phantom, she thought, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks. God, the sensation of his warm breath on the back of her neck…

Why did they always have to drink? She did not like it much, though especially the Phantom could be extremely entertaining in this state. Thinking of how he had spent an entire evening pretending he was Carlotta, Christine had to stifle a giggle. That had been the week before that memorable night when he had, under the influence of a little too much wine, come up with the idea that partying all night with a bunch of pretty girls was a nice thing to do.

How the Poussepain sisters had squealed when he had first slipped into their room!

Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feeling of Raoul's warmth, listening to his calm breathing beside her. Still she could hardly believe that he was back. She had imagined his homecoming with desperate hope so many times, but now he truly was there… There was a marvellous soaring feeling in the pit of her stomach, and a kind of mirth that made her want to hop up and down on the bed and laugh for no reason at all, except that she was happy, but also a different kind, a quiet joy which filled her with just a calm feeling of happiness, and with the wish to simply lie beside Raoul and savour the wonderful knowledge that he was there.

From Raoul's other side, she heard Meg murmur something and then the Phantom's low chuckle. Hopefully they weren't going to start one of their pillow battles now; there wasn't too much room in the bed as it was already.

Yes, Meg had been right earlier on, this was a highly improper thing probably, sharing a bed with not only one, but two men even. But it was cosy, lying huddled against Raoul and knowing that her two best friends were very near. And she felt safe with them, even though there was war outside, tearing the world as she knew it apart. Down here, far away from what happened under the light, there was no war. There was just her and Raoul and Meg, and Erik, her faithful guardian. There was nothing to be afraid of.

And at once she felt that she liked the darkness more than she would have thought.