It's good news bad news time here, people. Good news is that it's Easter! Hooray for Easter! Bad news is that I might not be updating much until June. My summer break is over tomorrow and I know my teachers will be piling on the homework since school is out in less than two months for me. I'm excited for June 2! But I also don't know how much I'll be updating over the summer because I'm visiting my dad, friends, going on trips, and band camp. Yup, you heard me right: band camp.

Erik: Can I go with you?

Me: I thought you hated people?

Christine: He does, but he doesn't want to be home with me and Alyssandra all summer.

Me: Erik, you do realize that it's only for August.

Erik:…Christine! Forgive Erik! He loves you and his darling daughter!

Christine: Nice try, Monsieur Phantom, but no; you're going to band camp.

Erik: But Christine!

Me: Stop arguing you guys! Well, there is something exciting going on in this chapter so I hope you all enjoy it.

Erik: Does Alyssandra walk? Talk? Is her first word Papa?

Me: You'll have to find out!

Red Rose Thorns

"Erik, honestly, you can't keep carrying her around like that! She needs to learn how to walk on her own." Christine scolded, but couldn't hide her smile as she watched her now fiancée carrying their daughter everywhere. It had been six months since she had left Raoul and Alyssandra was supposed to be learning how to walk. Erik was eager to teach their baby girl how to walk, but when she fell and scrapped her knee, that is was where he drew the line; Alyssandra was never going to walk as long as he was her father.

"I don't want her to get hurt again, Christine; she's far too precious." He shot back, knowing he had won the battle, but definitely not the war. Even when she was young, Christine was determined to have her way and usually Erik gave into the determination, letting her have whatever her angel could get her and he could tell that she was determined for Alyssandra to learn how to walk by any means necessary.

"I thought I was precious!" Christine feigned being hurt, using her most dramatic voice, "Well then, Monsieur, I shall stay in my room."

Laughing, Erik wrapped his arm around her petite waist, kissing her cheek as his daughter grabbed hold of his thick black hair. "Ow! Alyssandra, release Papa's hair, please."

"She just loves her father, don't you sweet one?" Christine cooed, prying her tiny hand off of Erik's silky hair.

"Merci, mon ange." He sighed, "Christine, there is something I want to ask you."

This wasn't good. The last time he had started a conversation out like this, they had ended up arguing and he left for hours. Christine had been so worried and regretted every word she had said to him and when he finally returned, she was asleep by a dying fire, Alyssandra in her arms. All was forgiven the next morning and it was the same morning he had proposed.

"Why hasn't the Vicomte come after you yet? I mean, he doesn't love you and you don't love him, but you're still his wife; wouldn't he try to 'rescue' you?" Erik asked; his golden gaze never leaving Alyssandra's own golden eyes.

Sighing in relief, Christine gave a slight smile and touched her baby's nearly neck length curly hair. She had thought about why Raoul hadn't sent the police, but she didn't care; as long as he didn't tear her away from Erik, she had nothing to complain about!

"I don't really know why Raoul hasn't come down here yet and I honestly don't give a damn. You're my fiancée now and we have a beautiful daughter and even if Raoul did come down here, there is no way he could take me away from you; he won't convince me because I know you're a good person, he won't beg because his pride is too great, and he can't drag me against my will because I'll kick him into the lake before he could touch me."

Alyssandra looked between the two people who had been taking care of her. She could hear the woman saying something about never going back to the bad man who had hit her with the cane.

Erik gazed down at the squirming infant in his arms. He was still confused about how quickly the Vicomte went from being caring to a drunk who beat his wife and her child, but that was something else to think about later. Right now, he had Christine and Alyssandra and that was all that mattered to him.

"Erik, I need to go above ground as soon as possible." Christine whispered timidly, afraid to bring this topic up, but it had to be discussed.

"Why is that, mon cherie? I thought you did all of your shopping yesterday afternoon with Alyssandra?"

"Oui, I did, but there is another matter that I must attend to. According to the church, I'm still married to Raoul. I have to get a divorce, no matter what the humiliation will be on my end."

"Why can't we just go to America where nobody would know that you're married to Raoul de Chagny? You could just be married to Erik Destler." He said, trying to keep his anger level. Erik knew that Christine would have to go to Raoul and get his signature on the divorce documents and that it could take months, maybe even a year, before everything was settled; he couldn't wait that long!

"It's a thing that I have to do. If we leave for America, or any other country, I don't want this marriage to hanging over my head; I want our marriage to be filled with joy and not secrets and worry."

Erik knew that she was right, but there was one doubt that still rang in his thoughts, despite all of her promises and reassurances. "How do I know you won't just stay with the Vicomte?"

If Christine's glare had been fire, he would have been dead by now. Getting up out of her chair, Christine picked up Alyssandra from Erik's grasp and walked to their bedroom, slamming the door and bolting it, just like she used to when she had feared Erik's temper, but now it was her temper she was trying to calm.

How could he think of such a thing? Hadn't she shown him that she loved him? Wasn't their daughter proof? Or the ring on her finger? Perhaps the bruises and infected cuts that she had shown him wasn't enough! Christine placed her daughter in the crib Erik had made and landed face down on the silky bed; it smelled just like the man outside the room. Musky. Ink. Smoke. Roses.

Erik still had his arms positioned as if he were holding Alyssandra; he hadn't expected Christine to get so upset! Didn't she hear him wake up in the middle of the night from dreams of her leaving with their daughter and going straight back to the Vicomte? That he relived that scene from the roof every day? They had been together for six months now, but he had tutored her for God knows how many years and she still betrayed him! Getting off the couch, Erik walked calmly over to the bedroom door, lightly knocking.

"What?" came his only reply, muffled from the door and from what sounded like a pillow.

"Christine, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it. I just…I just think about you leaving every night…leaving with Alyssandra. I love you so much…it kills me to even think that you would go back to him, even if it is just to sign documents." He heard light footsteps coming towards the door and the bolt unlocking, but the door did not open like he had hoped.

"I'll only be gone for a couple of hours, Erik; it's not like I'm leaving for several months."

"I know. I'm sorry. Will you please come out?"

Christine could hear the uncertainty in her angel's voice and instantly felt bad for marching out on him. He was still insecure with himself and their relationship; she should have known since the first week they were together, when the nightmares began. Opening the door, she smiled slightly at the sight of Erik's unmasked face; he looked so vulnerable, but seemed to brighten up at the sight of her.

"Mon ange, je t'aime, but we can't keep arguing like this. We'll eventually grow sick of being around each other and I don't want that."

"It was my fault, Christine; I shouldn't have said anything about you and the Vicomte."

"You were only speaking out load and I overreacted. There is nothing to be sorry for. Now, come, I'll make you some lunch before I have to leave." Christine smiled, taking her fiancée's hand into her petite one and led him to the kitchen, the argument completely forgotten.

^.^

Raoul smiled wickedly down at the prostitute who was sleeping next to him. The six months that Christine had been missing had granted him all the sexual freedom that he craved while she was pregnant with that….thing's seed. He had filled his share of women, becoming a regular down at the brothels and favorites already lined up for him when he arrived, but he still didn't like the fact that his wife was wandering around somewhere; she was his property after all and he had to control it!

Slipping out of his bed, Raoul dawned a red silk robe before leaving his room, blowing a kiss to the whore who was still sleeping soundly. Finding his servant, he ordered a bath and for his carriage to be prepared for departure in an hour. The servant could only bow and follow his master's orders; he knew why the young man needed his carriage and he didn't like the thought of him going out to find the poor Vicomtess sickened him. She had been a very smart girl for leaving when she had the chance!

Raoul entered his room and found the woman awake, if barely, and decided to see if she needed a way back into the brothel. Or if she was game for another round.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle. How did you sleep?" he asked sweetly, placing a kiss on her flushed cheek.

"You should know, Monsieur; you exhausted me more than usual. Is something on your mind?" she asked, getting out of the bed and reaching for her chemise. She absolutely hated this man! He was so self centered, a drunk, and had temper issues, which usually led to the girls or herself to be beaten every time they were over at the mansion, but she had to grin and bear it because he was the biggest costumer that the brothel had seen in a long time.

"Oui, something is bothering me, but I shall have to tell you later; I have had the maid draw you a bath so be quick because I must leave and you have to come with me." Raoul replied, his tone was colder than any winter chill.

"Merci, Monsieur. I'm not spoiled by all of my other customers."

"You're very polite for a woman of your trade."

"Well, my mother used to be a high ranking woman before we lost all of our money and old habits die hard I guess." She replied, instantly regretting that she said anything about her mother.

"You can't fool me, Mademoiselle; I know your kind well enough that you can generate the worst sob stories. Why, just the other day I talked to a young woman who claimed that her father was a duke in England, but he had lost all of his money to his awful gambling habits. They were so far in debt, she told me, that he committed suicide and left her and her mother to rot! They eventually moved here where the mother is a supposed seamstress and she the prostitute. Now, would you buy such a silly story, Mademoiselle?"

"Non, Monsieur. What a silly story." She mumbled. She knew that girl very well for that girl was her cousin. The woman at the brothel only took in well bred girls who had either lost all of their money in one form or another or just decided to leave their rich and posh lifestyle for something that brought them excitement.

"I knew you'd agree with me. Now hurry up and take your bath; I wish to leave in an hour." Raoul growled, changing into his day clothes. "And one more thing, Kimia, I saw your father the other day; what a pathetic excuse of a man, don't you think?"

Curling her fists, all she could do was nod and leave, wanting nothing more than to wrap her hands around the Vicomte's pampered neck. Entering the marble bathroom, she unwrapped the towel that Raoul had thrown at her, revealing her smooth, coffee cream skin, and dipped into the warm water. This was the reason why she put up with that asshole: he pampered her to no end. She might as well be his wife with the way he treated her, but when he got too drunk or wasn't pleased…then everything went downhill.

And how could he say anything about her father? He knew nothing about what had happened in Persia all those years ago! Kimia swore the day her father was thrown in prison that she would find the man behind it and she knew she was close; rumor had it that the Vicomtess herself ran off to a man who had the same features her father had mentioned. Perhaps going with the Vicomte to find his tramp of a wife wouldn't be such a loss after all.

^.^

"Au revior, mon amour; I'll be back as soon as possible." Christine said, kissing Erik's scarred check and did the same with Alyssandra. She looked so much like Erik, if someone ignored the scar; she had his eyes, his thin lips, his lopsided grin, but there were parts of Alyssandra where Christine could see herself, even though they were very settle.

"You promise?" Erik teased, pulling her down for one more kiss.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I want to get back to my family?"

Alyssandra saw the man's eyes sparkle with something that he looked at her with often, but she couldn't place what the sparkle was! "F-Fa…Family!"

Erik and Christine looked down at the giggling little girl, stunned that she had just talked.

"Oh my God! She-She talked!" Christine cried, one hand reaching for Alyssandra's hand and the other going to Erik's neck.

"Can you say Papa? Maman?" Erik smiled, holding his baby girl up in a standing position. Had she really just talked?

"P-Papa!" Alyssandra laughed and clapped her hands. The man and woman were speechless! She did something that made them not yell at each other!

"I wish I could stay longer, but I have to go. I'm so sorry, sweet one, but Maman promises to play with you once she gets back, alright?" Christine sighed, stroking Alyssandra's curly brown hair. The only response she got was a tender coo, but it was enough for her. Taking one last look at her family, Christine got pulled back a curtain and entered a tunnel that would open up into the Rue Scribe.

Entering the street, she walked confidently towards the church, but something stopped her dead in her tracks: her husband was standing just a few feet away from her, a young tan girl on his arm and he was showering her with gifts.

And we're going to leave it at that. I told you that Alyssandra would do something cute!

Erik: She's growing up so fast!

Christine: She's so precious!

Alyssandra: Papa!

Me: She reminds me of my cousin. They would get along so well!

Christine: Erik is going to spoil the living daylights out of her…that can't be a good thing.

Erik: Of course it will be! She'll be so spoiled, but I'll raise her to be the most polite child who ever lived!

Me: Oh! She's just so cute! Well, anyway, this chapter was short for several reasons, the main one being that I wanted it to be short. It was a filler chapter basically and I promise that what is to come is going to be amazing! I'm so glad that you guys convinced me to continue writing this!

Erik: Christine and I thank you also, lovely readers.

Alyssandra: Merci!

Christine: I love you!

Me: Good night everyone! I'm sure that once Erik and Christine stop doting over their daughter, they'll talk some more. Review please!

^.^