I've been on a roll with updating on time! I do not own The Phantom of the Opera. Erik likes to be his own person.

There was something surreal about sitting on the edge of the roof with the stage and all of Paris spread out like a lighted web below them. Erik and Christine were sitting on the edge of where the roof was repaired, with their feet hanging over the edge. It was a clear night, and all the stars were out. Christine couldn't help but think that sitting there with Erik was better than the last time she'd been up here. Everything seemed so much more peaceful.

"We couldn't have asked for a better night to come up here," Christine said after a minute or so of silence.

She was right; the air was warm, and the stars were out. The full moon lighted the roof for them. Spring was coming, and they could feel it in the warmer night air.

"You're right," Erik said quietly. Christine leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder. There was a short pause that both of them were reluctant to fill. "Christine?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering…What are you going to do when the opera house is rebuilt?" Erik asked. The question had pestered him when he noticed how far along the repairs were when they came up to the roof. He had been afraid to ask it before, but something about the idyllic night and having Christine sitting next to him changed his mind.

"I don't know," she admitted. It seemed far off to her, and she didn't know why he was asking now. "I guess I'll sing again, and it'll be like before the fire."

"Things have changed since the fire," Erik pointed out. Christine was engaged to the Vicompte before the fire, and he didn't want things to go back to that.

"I know that." She nudged him with her head a little.

"Good." He nudged her back, so she elbowed him. They started pushing each other for a while, until Erik said that they were too close to the edge.

"Fine," Christine said, moving all the way back to the door and sitting down in front of it, "We can continue over here."

Erik rolled his eyes and dutifully sat down on his knees next to her. He looked expectantly at her, waiting for the next nudge.

"You're it!" she said, touching his arm and dashing away from him towards the statue of Apollo.

He cocked his head and blinked at her, unsure of what she was doing.

"What was that?" he asked, confused by her behavior.

"Tag? You don't know what tag is?" she asked slowly, walking back over to him.

"No."

"Really?"

"I really don't know what 'tag' is, Christine."

"You never would have played it, would you?" she said sadly, "It's a children's game. You're 'it,' so you're supposed to chase me and tag me so that I'm it. Then I chase you again."

"And when does it end?"

"It doesn't."

"Oh."

"You really don't know," she said with wonder, "Almost everyone grows up playing it."

"I never had playmates."

"I'm sorry, Erik."

There was a glint in his eyes when they met hers. "You're it!" He raced away from her before she could process what she did.

"That's not fair!" Christine cried, sprinting towards him.

"All's fair in love and war," Erik replied smoothly.

"Which one's this?"

He pretended to think about it for a moment, and she took the opportunity to tag him.

When the first stars began to fade, they made their way back to the lake breathlessly, and Christine was still it. Their radiant mood dimmed a little bit when they reached the other side of the lake because neither one of them had thought of Meg since they were up on the roof. They felt almost guilty about having fun while she was in bed asleep. Christine told herself that Meg was probably sleeping anyway, and Meg would most likely join in their game of tag if she were there, anyway. She could almost hear Madame Giry reproving them for running around like lunatics. When they were inside, Christine and Erik went to see if Meg was awake.

"Where were you?" she asked when she saw them come in.

"The roof," Christine answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Mother was worried. She thought Erik kidnapped you or something," Meg said.

"He did. It was horrible. I had to teach him to play tag so that he would let me go," Christine answered.

Meg looked at her for a moment with a confused expression. She knew so little about Erik that she supposed it could have been true. Her naïve expression made them both laugh, and the sound hadn't been heard in that room before.

"He really didn't know how to play tag, though," Christine said thoughtfully.

Madame Giry walked into the room at that moment.

"Where were you?" she asked indignantly.

"We were on the roof," Erik explained,"Christine and I-"

Madame Giry interrupted him, "I was so worried! I didn't know where you were."

"Meg told us you thought I kidnapped Christine," Erik said with disdain.

"What else did to expect me to think? You are…" She trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"A murderer?" he supplied.

"Stop it!" Christine interjected sharply, "We were on the roof, that's all. We're not children anymore, for heaven's sake."

"I know, but it's easy to forget sometimes," Madame Giry said, "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Erik said, as warmly as he could manage.

"Aren't I due for more medicine?" Meg asked, changing the subject quickly.

"You're right," Erik said. He left to go get the medicine, and Madame Giry also exited, muttering something about breakfast. Christine was left alone with Meg, so she sat next to the bed.

"Tag!" Meg said, reaching weakly for Christine's hand.

"I was it last," Christine said, "That makes you it."

"Oh well," Meg said, shrugging cheerfully.

Christine didn't reply because Erik came back into the room with more medicine. He handed it to Meg, and Meg made sure that her hand touched his when she took it from him.

"Tag!"