You know, sometimes I sit down to write one thing and something... completely different comes out. This was one of those chapters. Sooo... not quite what I had planned, but... here it is!

Onward!

XXIX

"I don't know why you looked so aghast at me for saying that," Christine chastised as they were once more in the seclusion of the elevator. "I was only teasing."

Erik gave her a disgruntled look, and she was once again reminded that his displeasure was more than just for show. "I would prefer that you would not allow such teasing to be directed at other men. Especially not ones that I have already..."

He quieted quickly, and Christine waited for him to continue.

Only to be greatly disappointed when he looked away from her entirely with a sniff and she was left wanting.

"You already what?"

He continued to say nothing.

Christine sighed and gave a tug at his sleeve, not liking how he simply dismissed her enquiry. "Erik, that's not fair. You can't just say that and not finish your thought. What did you already do?"

His lips thinned into a frown, and she didn't like him looking at her that way—his exasperation obvious. "I have already told him that he was not to have further contact with you, and he might take your teases as encouragement. Should you like to encourage him, Christine? Did you like it when he touched you?"

The elevator moved steadily downward, but before they could reach their final floor, Christine reached over and gave the emergency stop a tug, trapping them inside as a brief alarm signaled their nonexistent distress.

She had never done such a thing—it had never occurred to her that there would be a circumstance where she would consider it. Yet she had done it, and even as Erik moved to release the tab and continue their movement, she covered the panel with her back and blocked his view.

He could move her easily, she knew. If he had truly wanted to, nothing she could have done would have impeded his intent. But rather than move her bodily, he leaned against the other side of the elevator, his arms crossed and his expression one of grave annoyance.

"Erik, tell me what you're talking about."

Still he remained silent, his eyes narrowed and his gaze settling somewhere over her head.

Her own irritation rising, she tried to remember what he could be referring to. She'd had very little contact with the lawyer other than the initial questions he had asked when she'd been selected. They hadn't spoken in the courtroom other than when she'd approached Erik and told him of her gladness that he hadn't been found guilty. But other than that...

And then she remembered.

That alarming conversation with the security guard, her abrupt turn...

Which made her fall quite literally into Mr. Chagny's arms.

But how did Erik know about it?

She vaguely remembered their whispered conversations, the first time she had ever seen Erik engage vocally with someone that had at least allayed her concerns that he was incapable of doing so—despite the fact that she could not hear what was said.

"You're talking about him catching me when I fell?"

If anything, Erik's eyes hardened further.

Christine sighed deeply. "Erik, I'm not going to apologize for that, no matter how much you glare at me. He was kind enough to help me, otherwise I would have fallen and probably bruised something. Is that what you want? That I'd be hurt rather than have another man steady me?"

His eyes narrowed. "I would never have suggested such a thing."

Christine scoffed at that, although she tried to keep her temper. "Erik, you had Joe transferred for asking me out on a date. Apparently you also gave Mr. Chagny a bad time for having any contact with me at all. I'm not a possession!"

Erik took a hurried step forward, and suddenly she remembered to whom she spoke, and she regretted immediately having raised her voice.

But when he took hold of her arm there was nothing painful in his grasp, except for where her heart ached at the hurt in his expression.

"Is that what you think? That I would guard you as some treasure, ever covetous as I lock you away from sight so that only I may enjoy you?"

Christine gave a shrug, unsure of how to answer. "You did kidnap me," she supplied weakly, the argument an old one.

Erik chuckled incredulously. "I most certainly did. Heaven forbid we forget my error in judgment. That we never again should have a moment's peace because I could bear the thought that another man was there to catch you, to woo you, while I was locked away from you. While I had nothing but my hopes for what we could have. I took away your choice and therefore I must be the worst kind of monster."

Christine swallowed, hating how sarcastic he sounded, yet there was a vein of earnestness in it as well. As if some part of him, no matter how small, actually believed it.

"Erik, I don't think that."

"Do you not? I wonder sometimes. I have given you opportunities to leave, have I not? And yet you remain. But do you do so because you fear the reprisal, or because you actually have come to enjoy some part of my company?"

She hadn't wanted to speak of this now. All of it was still too confusing for her to discuss it with him, especially while they were trapped within the confines of an elevator. She hadn't the least idea of when a repairman would be called—or was it a fireman? It all seemed foolish and petty, and she should have waited... waited until they were back home, back where things were comfortable, and she knew better than to accuse instead of gently approach him, reminding him of the importance of honesty between them.

But he was taking her silence as confirmation of his deepest fears, as he gave a pained nod and released his hold on her, turning away to stare at the farthest side of the elevator. "Of course," he murmured miserably. "I was a fool to think it could be anything else."

Christine nibbled at her lip, hating that things could get bungled up so quickly. She took a careful step toward him and laid a hand upon his wool covered shoulder. "Some people would say you're controlling. That I... that because I want to stay with you, that something must be wrong with me."

Erik hung his head wretchedly, and that part of her, that sympathetic part that had reached out to him in the earliest days of the courtroom, remembered him and wanted to soothe all of his terrible hurts.

"But I... I want to be truthful with you, Erik. And it frightens me how you react when another man pays attention to me. I worry for what it might mean in the future. I worry that maybe there really is something wrong with me, that I could... want to be with you so very much."

He stiffened beneath her hand, and when he glanced over his shoulder to look at her, it was with such guarded hopefulness that it made her want to cry. "You... you wish to stay with me?"

Christine hesitated, the choice too monumental for the confines of an elevator. "It is something I have been considering, yes. To simply forgive you and... and to live with you down below. But then something like this happens and I worry that I'm being naive about what that would really mean—that other than being one of the sweetest men I've ever known, that maybe my judgment is faulty and..." she sighed and her hand fell away from him, not wanting to finish the thought.

She'd blessedly never experienced it herself, but she'd heard enough stories from her coworkers about controlling and possessive men who took out their jealousies on the women they claimed to love.

And she wanted no part of it.

Would Erik ever do such a thing to her?

Her heart screamed no, even as her mind insisted that she be cautious. She had not known him for very long, not really, and evidently they both still required time to trust one another.

Erik faced her fully, his eyes wide and pleading, and she noted how his hands trembled slightly. Did he wish to comfort her with his touch, yet refrained? She almost wished he would.

"But do you not see? If you were mine, if you were to consent to be mine and I knew that you stayed with me because you... you loved me... I would have no need to fear! For you are a good, honest, kind girl and you would never be unfaithful."

Christine smiled sadly. "I'm glad you think so well of me, but I don't think that's the best way to start a relationship. You don't have someone as your girlfriend just to take her off the market."

Erik's expression turned to one of supreme distaste. "I do not want you for my girlfriend."

She would have been hurt by that—she nearly was. He said it so earnestly, and it took her a moment to realize that he meant he wanted her for more...

She swallowed and walked back to the elevator panel and pushed the emergency button, the elevator beginning its descent once more with only the barest of lurches.

It was clear from the beginning that Erik didn't know how to have real relationships. So why did it surprise her so that he did not know the way of courtship?

He'd told her before that he wanted to be the one to ask her on dates, to woo her affections much as she had agreed Joe could have done, but evidently he was a bit clumsy in the execution.

Erik watched her warily from his resumed place on the far side of the elevator, and as the doors dinged their welcome to the lobby as they opened, he made no move to vacate them first.

Christine sighed, warring with herself, before holding out her hand to him.

"Aren't you going to escort me?"

And with simply that his shuttered expression gentled, and he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm as they vacated the lift.

Yet there were things still unsaid, matters still so unresolved, that things felt awkward between them.

And it surprised her how much she hated it.

"Erik," Christine asked, hoping that a change of subject would ease the uneasy feeling in her stomach. "How will we get back without the car?"

He peered down at her, her hand still tucked in his arm as they passed the receptionist, who merely continued to flip through her magazine rather than give them any attention.

Christine decided she preferred being ignored rather than the open stare than the other girl had given them.

Erik was quiet for a moment, apparently considering whether or not he should actually reveal such things to her.

"There are several options," he finally answered. He opened the large glass door and held it ajar, his hand brushing the small of her back as she passed him.

"Such as?" she prompted.

The day had grown darker during their sojourn into the law office, dusk rapidly giving way to evening, despite what she knew to still be early in the day. Winter was beginning to settle over the city, the days growing short, her stomach reminding her that while not yet dinnertime, lunch was woefully absent.

"The first is that we walk," Erik offered, not too distasteful of an option. It hadn't seemed so very far from the theatre, but she was starting to grow anxious about Boo being alone for so long. "But you have already spent a great deal of time in the cold, and I am uncertain of the wisdom in such a venture."

Christine would have argued—she had walked home from work in much colder weather than this, without the benefits of such a warm coat, or shoes whose soles had begun to peel away from age and use.

But she rather thought he would see such things as further evidence that he was morally obligated to keep her with him for always, and he most assuredly did not need further excuses for his actions.

Even when she was beginning to believe some of them herself.

"Then what's the next option?"

They were still situated under the canopy covering the entrance to the building, shielded somewhat from the flakes of new snow that fell, seeking to hide away the dirt and grime of the street with something pure.

Yet Christine was well aware that until a true storm hit, it would merely turn a putrid grey as it mixed into an icy slurry.

"I place you in a taxi and you may wait for me at the theatre."

Christine frowned. "That seems silly. I'll still be waiting for you outside because you locked the door when we left."

Some tension in his shoulders dissipated at her rejection of that plan, and she realized that he must have feared that she would not in fact be waiting for him. Not after the almost-fight they'd just had.

She had no words to comfort him, the lump in her throat too great as she tried not to show how much it pained him that he so expected to be abandoned, despite her assurances that she cared for him. But she did rub the inside of his covered elbow with her thumb, hoping that even that small gesture would imbue him with some sort of reassurance.

Whether or not she found a way to regain her freedom, she could not imagine simply disappearing—of hurting him in that way. It wasn't a matter of escaping, not anymore, but of deciding whether or not she wanted to coax him into letting her go.

Something she wasn't sure was worth the effort.

"Can't you just come with me? In the taxi, I mean?"

Erik's lips pulled into a sorry semblance of a smile. "I would be most pleased to be your riding companion, Christine, although you may wish to rescind the offer when it becomes difficult to find a driver willing to take a masked passenger."

Oh.

She hadn't considered that.

"Well, we should at least try," she reasoned. "I'm sure money goes a long way with such things."

Erik snorted at that. "Yes, I do believe in this instance you are right."

To Christine's amazement, the first two taxis that slowed toward the curb, did indeed speed away when they caught sight of Erik's mask. Each time she would glance back at Erik worriedly, only to find that he was studying the pavement, not even bothering with a triumphant look of I told you so.

The third however pulled to a full stop, the driver giving them barely a glance before asking for their destination.

The address Erik gave didn't sound quite right, and while Christine was fairly familiar with the city, the only street names that really mattered to her were those that related to her bus stops to and from work.

The cabbie gave surreptitious glances into the backseat via the rearview mirror, and Christine felt very uncomfortable by the entire thing. The car was a small one, and Erik's frame took up much more room than she had realized before.

And while Erik strove for a relaxed appearance, the tension in his body was palpable beside her.

She was surprised then when he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "We are both bathing when we are once again home."

For a brief moment she was alarmed at his suggestion—together?—but with a quiet chuckle she watched as he peered about the cab with a look of disgruntlement, obviously displeased at having to be in an enclosed space available to the common man.

"That might interfere with you making me dinner," she replied, not entirely certain he would still want to, but her stomach insisting that it was a very grand idea.

Erik grew thoughtful. "Not if I am very quick."

Christine smiled. "Fair enough."

The cab driver did not attempt to make conversation, for which Christine was glad, although when he announced the cost when they came to a stop outside a building that did not remotely resemble the theatre, the price seemed exorbitant.

Yet Erik paid it with no argument, despite the meter clearly showing a differing total.

"But he was gouging you!"

Erik took her hand and placed it on his arm, guiding her through an alley that she would have been far too nervous to have traversed on her own. "Yes, he was. And if I was alone I would have argued the point, but as it stands I would rather him not remember a pretty girl and a dangerous figure who convinced him that his rates were ridiculous. Sometimes it is best to be cautious."

Christine still didn't like it, but she hesitated before arguing further. "You mean... in case he's called as a witness? If the police get the evidence of our trial and want to investigate you again about the... kidnappings?"

Erik looked at her oddly at her acknowledgement that the trial had been theirs, but it was true enough. For better or worse, she had participated. And when it came to the law she was fairly certain it would be for worse.

"Is that why we're not at the Opera House? If he does get called, you don't want him to know where we're actually staying?"

Erik gave a short nod. "Prudence is typically best in such matters. As it stands, he has dropped a strange man and his companion at a club known for their... eccentricities. That hardly would arouse suspicion."

Christine looked back over her shoulder, not having noted anything particularly strange about the place. But it was early yet, and she shuddered to think of what she might have seen if it had been any later in the day.

"Do you... know from personal experience?"

She tried to make her question sound casual, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded strained. She couldn't picture Erik in such a place, couldn't picture him surrounded by people at all really, but there was so much she still didn't know about him.

But he merely gave her another exasperated glance, and sniffed disdainfully. "I should think not. Knowledge of a location is not nearly the same as admission of participation. Do be serious, Christine."

She nibbled her lip, feeling chastened.

The evening was getting cooler and the wind was beginning to pick up as they exited the shadows of the alley and emerged on the main boulevard that boasted the theatre as a prominent feature. She was gladdened by the sight of the familiar building, but as another gust nipped about her ears, she couldn't help but shiver and move just a bit closer to Erik.

He was not a particularly warm figure, his person seeming to exude cooler temperatures than she would have expected a body capable, but his tall frame helped cut the wind. And other than a surprised glance down at her, he did not seem to object to her closeness at all.

"We are nearly there," he offered comfortingly. "But if you are too cold, I would be happy to supply you my coat as well."

Christine pressed her nose against his sleeve, hoping that the soft wool would imbue it with some warmth. "No, but thank you, Erik. I wouldn't want you to get too cold. If either of us got sick, somehow I think you'd be a far better nurse than I would prove to be."

Erik stopped suddenly at that, his expression rather horrified. "While of course you would receive the utmost care for any ailment, if you believe you are in danger of contracting an illness then you should tell me so at once!" His arm fell away from his grasp as his hands began to neatly unbutton his outer coat, but she stopped them with a smile.

"Really, Erik, it's fine. And I'm serious; I want you to be warm too. Just next time we go out for a jaunt, I need to be sure to bring a scarf and gloves too."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You are certain?"

"Yes!" she answered him with a laugh. "And the more you keep asking, the longer we're standing out here, so let's go home!"

She hadn't meant to refer to it as such. It was merely a slip of the tongue and not something she was prepared to dwell on for long. But as Erik's eyes, which in the light seemed nearly color-less they were so pale, now seemed to almost glow a luminescent gold, fervent and so very pleased by what she had said.

She swallowed thickly. "I..."

"Yes, let us go home, Christine," Erik interrupted silkily, his own hand doing up his coat buttons while the other was once more proffered to her. "I believe I have been remiss in providing you proper nourishment, something I mean to rectify immediately."

And she could do nothing but obey, for while she might not have meant to declare his underground dwelling as such, she could no longer deny to herself that it also felt so very right to refer to it as such.

And perhaps that should frighten her more than it currently did.

Sooo... I had planned to write a very romantic date for these two... but instead they ended up having a tiff in an elevator. But perhaps learning how to work through these things will help them in the long run, yes? So what do you think, what Christine brave or silly for trapping Erik like that?