Title: The Devil We Know
Summary: Christine Daae is the daughter of a recently deceased mafia boss. Suddenly, she finds herself toted as an up and coming gang leader, learning from the Phantom, a man who is feared by even the most powerful in the field as a notorious hit man. Will Christine find the strength to carve her own path, disregarding both darkness and light? Raoul's in it too. I guess.
Disclaimer: Phantom isn't copywritten any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, and Raoul aren't my original characters.
Author's Note: Thanks to Jen and Millie's brother for info regarding guns and the parts of guns for Christine! If not for Jen, I would have called the part of the revolver that holds the bullets a "barrel". Oops.
Chapter Four: Guns and Roses
The man was insufferable. That was all there was to it.
Erik corrected her grip on the light revolver for what must have been the millionth time this afternoon. He had picked her up from Madame Giry's two hours ago for their first lesson in firearms.
Needless to say, it wasn't going to well.
"Your hold is weak! The gun isn't going to break if you squeeze it." He wrapped his gloved hands around hers on the gun firmly. "If you hold a gun like that and fire, the kick will make you drop it on your foot."
She stared up at him as he instructed, mesmerized by his lips throughout his explanation. They were only inches apart. If she really wanted she could reach up and-
Without looking down at her, he grabbed her chin and directed her face forward. The target hung on its mechanism a few feet away. She wondered how he had access to a private, indoors shooting area in such a nice building, but decided not to ask. Erik loved his mystery something fierce.
Irritated, she gripped the handle of the gun hard and pulled the trigger. She imagined wringing Erik's neck and before she knew it, her grip had firmed and steadied.
"Good!" He praised, letting his hand drop from hers with satisfaction. "You're getting it."
"You'll get it," she grumbled under her breath, drawing back the hammer and squeezing the trigger repeatedly before the chamber clicked empty. She managed to actually nick the target, though she was nowhere near the bull's eye yet.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," she amended in frustration. After she stopped firing, he cautiously reached out and pried to gun from her hands. "You love to take away my fun."
"If we don't leave now, you're going to be late for your… other lessons," Erik informed her, slipping the revolver into the holster at his thigh. He checked his watch for confirmation of the time. 7:00 PM. Madame Giry's was already open for the night.
"Just call me a student of Madame Giry's school of hard knocks and mafia etiquette," Christine sighed, rubbing her eyes. She hadn't slept well the previous night, what with scenes of Erik and Raoul swarming her mind like lemmings to a cliff.
"Clever," he watched her with concern hidden behind his dark eyes. Considering the events of the past few days, she was holding up surprisingly well for a woman in her situation. Now that she was staying at the Madame's, he couldn't be near her at all hours. What if she was crying herself to sleep every night alone? Or worse, just crying with no sleep?
"So, when do I get my own gun?" She asked hopefully as they waited in the elevator. Muzak played harmlessly in the background.
"When I'm sure you won't shoot off your own foot with one," he replied easily. She fell into her familiar sulk and they exited into the parking lot in silence.
When they reached Madame Giry's, Erik shifted into park and waited for her to exit. Instead of getting out, she scooted closer to him on the bucket seat. She leaned in expectantly, her face upturned, lips full and waiting.
Erik stared down at her, suddenly overwhelmed by a surge of fear and self-loathing. He was already corrupting this poor, beautiful girl with his-
Christine opened her eyes into a look of annoyance after a few seconds passed and sat back in her seat. "Stingy old man."
Then she pushed open the passenger side door and jumped out of the car, leaving him alone as she stalked toward the entrance of the nightclub. Madame Giry's was just as busy as the night before, Christine noted as she entered. Meg spotted her and quickly swooped over, neglecting a customer momentarily. "Christine, you're on door duty. I put your dress out on your bed, so go change."
"Thanks, Meg," Christine patted Meg's offered hand and quickly made her way up to their room to get dressed for work. The dress tonight was black and white, sleeveless and stopped at mid thigh. Next to the dress rested a single, blood red rose. She lifted the rose to her lips gingerly and smiled as she breathed in its faint aroma. Reluctantly, she placed the rose back on her bed and changed into the dress.
An hour later, Christine stifled a bored yawn behind her hand. The opening crowd was starting to slow and she hadn't taken a jacket from a customer in at least five minutes. Her legs were starting to ache in the three inch heels she'd borrowed from Meg and in the back of her mind she was already checking out for the night.
A rather large man only a few inches taller than her shoved through the front door, his brown overcoat slightly furry and cut too long for his height, falling close to his ankles as he walked. He peered around the room through beady, narrowed eyes before focusing on Christine, who smiled brightly at him with her hands out. "May I take your coat, sir?"
He removed his coat, moving closer to her with a quick shuffle. When she tried to take the coat, his arm snaked out to grab her by the wrist, pulling her arm behind her back painfully. Startled, she froze in his grip, not struggle for fear of him breaking her arm. He pressed the barrel of a gun stealthily to her back, his weapon hidden under the coat he draped over his arm.
"Miss Daae, my boss insists upon meeting you. I have a car waiting out front to take us to her in style." He applied a brutal pressure to her wrist, sending a sharp pain darting up her radius. Biting back on her cry, she let him pull her toward the entrance.
Calmly, Christine sought the eyes of anyone who could help her. Meg's frightened expression met hers and Christine sent her a tiny nod before Piangi shouldered open the front door and tugged her along. Just as he opened the door to exit, Raoul rushed inside, fixing his tie hurriedly.
Raoul and Piangi crashed into each other in their haste to get where they needed to be, sending them both teetering off balance. Piangi's hold on Christine loosened enough for her to slip free. Remembering Raoul's actions from the previous night, she darted forward and slipped her hands under his blazer.
Luckily, he had his holster on in the same place under his arm and she quickly jerked his gun free.
Safety off, a vicious voice in her mind ordered and she obeyed, training the gun on the recovering Piangi. "Leave. Now."
Having dropped his gun in the confusion, Piangi started for it only to have Christine shoot the ground at his feet. He froze in mid-step. She tried for her best imitation of Erik's pissed off voice. "Do I look like I'm joking with you, sir? Leave the gun and get out of here or your kneecap is my next target."
Honestly, his knee had been her first target, but she couldn't admit that now.
Piangi stared at her, a look of fear passing over his face before he ran toward his car. Once he was gone, Christine exhaled in relief and retrieved the forgotten pistol. She carried it, testing its weight. It was heftier than Raoul's semi-automatic pistol and the practice revolver Erik had let her use. It was also shiny, metallic, and now it was all hers.
"Thanks, Raoul," Christine handed him his gun back remembering to click the safety on before placing it into his hands. Raoul stood stunned in place so Christine took his pistol back and holstered it under his arm again.
Patting his cheek twice, she walked back through the entrance of the nightclub. Madame Giry was following a frazzled Meg toward the front door, but they both slid to a halt when they saw Christine reenter with a grim look on her pretty face.
"I could have been dead by now," Christine snapped at them and they eyed the menacing gun in her right hand.
"That's Piangi's gun," Madame Giry murmured in awe. "He is Carlotta's right hand man. But why would he attack you?"
"You tell me!" Christine demanded, angrily. "Who is Carlotta anyway?"
Raoul answered from behind her, getting her attention. "Carlotta is one of the big bosses vying for authority over the city after the death of the old boss."
"Yes, but Carlotta was also a trusted friend to Elizabeth," Madame Giry stated in confusion then realized who had spoken. "You! You aren't welcome here anymore."
"Wha?" Raoul was hustled backward by Madame Giry, her arms blocking him from ducking around her. He tried to talk to Christine over Giry's flailing arms. "Christine, meet me outside!"
"She will not!" Madame Giry hissed. "Do you think the Phantom takes kindly to sharing his women?"
Christine slapped her forehead in dismay as realization dawned on Raoul's boyish face. "That guy from yesterday was-?"
"Out out out!"
"Christine, don't worry, I'll be back!" he managed just before the Madame shoved him out the door and shut it decisively in his face. When she turned back around, she was brushing her hands off as if disgusted with the whole ordeal.
Glaring at Christine, she crooked her finger, beckoning her closer. Christine started forward until Giry grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her near as she said, "Do not see that boy ever again if you want him to remain alive. The Phantom has eyes and ears in this place. He will get reports from the other girls on your progress and if he learns of what happened tonight…"
"But I didn't do anything with Raoul!" Christine complained, wincing as Madame Giry's nails clutched into the soft flesh of her neck. "Besides, if Erik can have informants then so can I!"
Giry dropped her hand from Christine's neck and quirked an eyebrow at her. "You expect me to believe you've already secured a spy in the field?"
Rubbing her abused neck with her free hand, Christine nodded with a wince. "What did you think we were doing last night? Having sex?"
"Well, yes," Madame Giry admitted simply before sweeping back through the club toward her office. Christine eyed the woman as she disappeared into the back room, then glanced down at the shiny gun in her hand. What was she supposed to do with her new weapon? She didn't have a cool holster like Erik or Raoul…
"Why are you standing in the doorway?" A smooth, deep voice asked from over her shoulder. She knew it was Erik before she turned around. His eyes widened when he saw the large, dangerous pistol in her hands. "Where did you get that?!"
"Nowhere." She stepped back when he swiped for the gun, clutching it close to her chest protectively. Realizing what she had just said, she revised her statement. "I mean, I took it from the fat guy who tried to kidnap me just a few minutes ago."
Erik stared at her in shock. When he tried to take the gun from her again, she moved out of his reach. Eyeing him haughtily, she petted the gun and questioned, "Hey. Are you trying to take my awesome gun?"
"Christine, you can't keep that gun." He was torn between amusement and anger.
"Why not? You already have two of your own. You don't need this one," she pointed out as she continued to watch him warily.
"Christine! If you fired that gun, the only thing you'd hit is your face with the butt. The recoil on that monster would knock you unconscious, or at the very least give you a black eye." He eyed the gun for a moment before adding, "Not to mention that it would bite the skin between your thumb and forefinger because of the way it fires. You'd need to learn how to hold it."
"Hmph," she let him pry the gun from her fingers. "You're just jealous that my gun is bigger than yours."
Once he had the gun safely in his possession, he led her up the stairs so they could speak in private. As they walked, she noticed him examining the newly acquired gun with curiosity. "The fat man who attacked you. Was his name Piangi?"
"That's what Madame Giry called him." Christine stated while shutting the bedroom door behind them. "She mentioned something about Carlotta and my mother being friends."
He had faraway expression as he nodded. "That is what they wanted everyone to think. The truth is they had fallen apart a few years before her death."
"Why?" Christine asked. The look on his face was more interesting than his words.
"Your father was the reason, actually." Erik stated, placing the gun on the bed and picking up the rose he had left for her. He held it out to her as he asked, "Are you sure you're ready to hear this?"
Unable to find her voice, she let him pressed the flower into her hands and nodded. He sat down on the bed next to her and began to speak in a lulling, quiet tone. "Your mother and father fell in love before my eyes. One day she was running around, free as you are now, the next she was engaged to Gustav Daae. He came from a long line of shrewd Mafioso. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was in love."
"They got married and relied on each other as joint leaders of the area. Soon, you were born. Carlotta was Elizabeth's best friend from their years at Madame Giry's and served as bride's maid in your mother's wedding." He paused to run a hand through his hair before continuing in a strained voice. "So it was quite a shock when Elizabeth found out your father and Carlotta had been having an affair for a few years."
Christine stared up into Erik's eyes. He looked down uncomfortably and jolted in surprise. Her hand was dripping tiny droplets of blood that trailed down the stem of the rose. He took her hand gently in his and she watched as he pried the thorny flower from her fingers before lifting her scratched palm to his lips. "I'm sorry, Christine. You need to know who your enemies are and why."
He placed several tender kisses to the cuts while she fought back the tears that burned her eyes. With her other hand she reached up toward his mask. "Take this off, Erik."
Erik sat up straight instantly, dropping her hand. A look of fear and surprise entered into his dark eyes. She moved her hand closer to the mask and he leaned back. She stretched her arm out all the way and he ducked out of the way. "I can't… Christine, no, I can't."
She saw the panic in his eyes and let out a breath. She stood and reached her hands out to hold his. "Erik, what are you afraid of? You've killed people, lived in darkness and done what was needed to survive. What can I possibly do to you?"
He didn't reply, only reached out to cup her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb against her skin. The slick leather of his gloves only served to annoy her at the moment, a reminder of the constant wall he placed between them. She swatted his touch away with the back of her hand, whirling on her heel to pace a short distance. He peered at her, his hand still lingering in the air for a moment before dropping to his side.
"I bet you let my mother see your face." She snapped, crossing her arms in front of her. The look he gave her was one of utter disbelief.
"Of course I didn't. I wouldn't wish that horror on anyone, let alone someone I lov-" he caught himself in the middle of the word and hastily amended, "cared for."
Her mouth dropped open in shock and worked in silent syllables as she tried to find her voice. Finally she managed to growl, "I want you to leave my room, Erik. Right now."
It took a moment for her words to register in his mind. A dark look dropped over the visible portion of his face and he walked quickly to the door, shutting it decisively behind himself. Christine glared him, daring him to return so she could get rid of the ugly lamp sitting on the night table. It would look much better in pieces and it would get rid of his damned mask in the process.