A/N: Okay, here's where things get a little tricky for the lovebirds. Also, I have no idea how the dances really went in Don Juan, but there are close to belly dancing here. It's called creative license for a reason. Still don't own anything but the movie soundtrack.

Erik's mind was reeling. This woman in his arms was truly the goddess he proclaimed her to be. How different she was from Christine, the angel of his past. The child had been terrified when confronted with his face, and he had feared Calliope would be the same. Instead, she stopped his shaking hands, a serene smile on her face as she told him it didn't matter to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his heart soaring at her words, her touch. But he had to know. Would she be horrified by his grotesque continence, as the soprano had? If not, oh the possibilities would be endless! Slowly, Erik pulled the skull mask from his face and lowered his hand, the mask lightly held in his fingers before her eyes. He stared down at her as those beautiful amethyst orbs turned upwards to gaze upon his face. He tensed, waiting for the fear and revulsion to fill those lovely eyes, but it never came. Instead, her fingers came up and gently traced over the deformed flesh on the right side of his face. Her light touch was so sensual that he drew in a sharp breath, a shiver running up his spine. Then her lips were on his skin, gently caressing the lumpy part of his cheek, the corner of his eye. Finally her lips returned to his, and Erik returned her kiss with fervor. After several moments, they pulled apart, and Erik gazed down into her heavy lidded eyes.

"I must return you now, my sweet muse, or the fool will surely form a mob to hunt me down for your capture. Listen carefully. When they find you, tell them that your disappearance was a warning. My opera will be performed, or they might lose someone more precious to them. Christine will see to it that your message is obeyed." he said, his voice dropping to hypnotic levels. His muse nodded slowly before her eyes rolled up into her head, her body going limp in his arms. Erik swept her up and carried her through the tunnels to her rooms, where he laid her gently in her bed. As he left, he placed the black mask and a red rose on her dressing table. He turned back and gazed once more at the goddess before him. She had been through so much, and it broke his heart that no one else saw her for the beauty she truly was.

"She's here! Mademoiselle StClair is safe in her rooms!" Meg Giry's voice crying out from the door to her rooms woke Calliope. Carefully, she sat up, her mind replaying the events following the ball. She smiled to herself as she recalled the first kiss, and closed her eyes as she recalled the feel of Erik's arms around her. Her daydreams were shattered when several people came thundering into her rooms. Christine flung her arms around the costume mistress sobbing. Madame Giry, Raoul, and the managers were also in attendance.

"Oh, Roux, I was so frightened! I didn't know what he would have done to you! I'm so sorry, this is all my fault!" she cried. Calliope calmly soothed her friend.

"Are you unharmed? I tried to follow, but I became so turned around by those damnable mirrors." Raoul said, his fists clenching.

"I am fine. My abduction was meant as a warning. If we do not perform his opera, the Phantom might very well take someone more important next time. It was also a reminder to both Christine and myself what happens when we defy his will." Calliope said, the lies flowing easily from her mouth.

"This is ridiculous! I will not allow this maniac to order me around like some servant!" M. Firmin snapped. Christine looked up at Raoul in fear.

"No! We must do as he says! Raoul, please! I cannot bear it if anything more were to happen to Roux!" she sobbed. Raoul fixed the managers with a firm glare.

"We will perform this opera, if only for my fiancée's peace of mind." he said, the tone in his voice that of nobility. Madame Giry took this opportunity to clear her throat.

"Now that you have made your decisions, I must insist that you all leave. Mademoiselle StClair is surly exhausted from her ordeal. Meg, dear, go to the kitchens and fetch some tea. I will sit with her until you return." the ballet mistress said, her tone the same as she used on misbehaving ballet rats. Everyone quickly filed out of the room, and Madame Giry closed the door behind them, before fixing the costume mistress with her steely gaze.

"Alright, I want the truth. Did he harm you in any way?" she demanded. Calliope fixed the older woman with her own gaze.

"He did not. He called my abduction theatricality. The message was from his own lips." she replied, feeling a rush of heat as she remembered what else had come from those lips. Madame Giry raised an eyebrow at the younger woman, and sighed.

"Very well. This opera will be difficult for my dancers. The routines are closer to the dances of your homeland. I wish you could lead them." she said. Calliope reached out and took the ballet mistress' hands in hers.

"Then I shall lead them. I will need help with the costumes, at least two people. I will make sure your dancers are able to dance as I once did." she said. Madame blinked in surprise.

"Petit, are you sure? I do not want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable." she protested. Calliope nodded.

"I am sure. It is time I stepped from the shadows and left my past behind. This is just another step on that path."

Erik was confused. Over the past two weeks, he had slipped into Calliope's rooms late at night, only to find she had not yet retired. He often found her hunched over her sewing, so completely focused on her work she did not notice that he had entered. So, he would simply slip away and bring her a cup of tea, placing it on the table nearby, and leave her to her work. Every day, he left a red rose on her pillow, hoping to bring a smile to her face. Now he stood in the shadows of the costume rooms, watching in puzzlement as two strange women worked over the costumes. Turning, he moved through the tunnels to the catwalks above the stage to watch the dancers rehearse. What he saw stopped his breath in his throat. Calliope stood alongside Madame Giry, clad in her belly dancer's outfit, working through the steps with them. The dancers were looking to her with a sense of awe as she showed them exactly how to move their hips and lift their arms to achieve the proper look. Even Carlotta seemed to be impressed by the costume mistress' hidden talents. Erik was rooted to the spot until the rehearsals ended, and then he watched as Calliope turned to leave, only to come face to face with M. Firmin.

"You are a most exceptional woman, Mademoiselle. How is it that you remain unattached?" he asked, his eyes roving over her body. Rather than flinch away as Erik expected, considering her past, Calliope stood firm and met the manager's gaze with an icy one of her own.

"Simple. I will not be a trophy bride, and the men of my homeland do not desire a pale wife. And before you say anything else, keep in mind that Persian women sleep with daggers under our pillows. Why do you think there are so many eunuchs in our country?" she said smoothly, before gliding off down the halls. Erik grinned widely, his heart swelling with admiration and pride at her reaction. Laughing softly, he moved through his secret passages to the hidden door in her rooms, and saw that she had collapsed onto her chair, a huge yawn escaping from her mouth. Silently, Erik slipped in and placed a tender kiss to her neck.

"You are dancing in my opera?" he asked softly. She turned and met his lips with hers lazily.

"I am the only one who can teach them properly." she murmured. Erik pulled her up into his arms and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

"You have blossomed into such a treasure. At every turn you surprise me." he whispered. She sighed and leaned against his body. He could tell she was exhausted.

"I surprise myself. It is you that has given me this courage. Were it not for you I would be hiding in the costumes still." she said, her eyes sliding closed. Erik picked her up and laid her in bed, drawing the covers over his exhausted goddess. Leaning down, he brushed a lock of hair from her face and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek, whispering so softly against her skin he was unsure if she heard him.

"I love you, my sweet muse."

The opening for Don Juan drew near, and Calliope couldn't help but notice that Christine was a nervous wreck. After finding her pacing in the chapel for the fourth time in two days, Calliope pushed a cloak into her hands.

"Come with me. A trip to see your father will put your mind at ease." she said. The sheer relief on the soprano's face eased Calliope's own concern. Ever since the night Erik had learned she was dancing in his opera, she had not seen him. Every evening she would stumble into her rooms in the early morning hours to find a red rose laying on her pillow, and her dreams had been filled with images of him, and his voice whispering that he loved her. She knew without a doubt that she was completely in love with this wonderful man, and she wished she could see him even for a moment, just to tell him so. The two women entered the stables where they climbed into a carriage. Calliope was so exhausted from her long hours that she fell asleep quickly as the carriage rocked. She was awoken by someone shaking her shoulders and calling to her.

"Roux, Roux wake up! Where is Christine?" she opened her eyes to see Raoul staring at her. She looked around and saw the cemetery.

"She went to her father's crypt." Calliope quickly replied. Without a second look, Raoul raced into the graveyard, sword in hand. Calliope sat up and noticed that the carriage driver was missing. She clambered out of the carriage and made her way through the rows of gravestones. Hearing the sounds of battle, she sped up. When she reached the row where Gustave Daae was buried, Calliope felt her heart shatter into a hundred pieces. Erik and Raoul were locked in a duel, their swords striking each other with deadly force. Christine cowered on the steps before the crypt, watching in terror as the two men fought for her.

And why should he not still want Christine? a dark corner of her mind whispered. Why would he want a mongrel half breed Persian when he can have the perfect, untarnished beauty that is Christine. Raoul manage to knock Erik's sword away, and Calliope moved to stop him from delivering the final blow, but Christine was faster, pleading with Raoul. Erik propped himself up, watching in anger as Raoul and Christine mounted a white steed, then his eyes locked onto Calliope. She held his gaze for only a moment before the heartache was too much to bear. Then Raoul and Christine were before her and she was lifted up behind the soprano. The horse was sturdy, and they reached the opera house swiftly.

"Roux? Are you alright?" Christine asked. Calliope smiled falsely.

"Of course, rossignol. I am relieved you are unharmed. Forgive me, but I am over weary, and I must rest. We wouldn't want one of the dancers to collapse onstage!" she lied, turning and sweeping into her rooms. After firmly locking the door, she threw her self onto her bed, allowing the tears she had held back since the battle to finally fall. She sobbed into her pillow until she had no more tears, falling into a dreamless sleep. All the while, a pair of sorrowful green eyes watched from the shadows.

Erik cursed out loud, flinging over a table that held several carvings he had been working on for his muse.

How could you have been so stupid? he thought. Chasing after your angel when a goddess adores you despite your face?! Erik turned and picked up a stack of papers, flinging them across the ground before his organ. When he had seen Christine leaving the opera house, intent on visiting her father's grave, he had feared she would leave before his opera could be performed. So he took the drivers place and took the two women to the graveyard. When he saw Christine head into the cemetery alone, he decided to slip in after her and use his hypnotic voice to convince her to stay. Unfortunately that idiot Vicompt had followed and assumed he meant to steal the soprano away. In the heat of the fight, he forgot who he was fighting for, and the fool had gotten past his defenses. When he had gotten up to watch them leave, what he saw instead stopped his heart cold. Calliope, his beautiful muse, the woman he loved, stood just feet away, staring at him. He saw the heartbroken look on her face, saw the tear that slipped down her cheek. He wanted to run to her side and kiss away her pain. Instead, he watched as she was pulled onto the horse behind Raoul and Christine and rode away. Now his beloved muse was heartbroken, and he ha no idea how to make it right.

A/N: Sob! Poor Calliope! Poor Erik! But don't fret dear readers, all will be resolved shortly. And the next chapter promises a little more of Calliope's past. Please review!