Fire and Ice

A/N: I'm sorry for the short chapter. I'm having internet problems & it's taken me about five times to try to upload this chapter! I'm sorry it's so short. Anyway, enjoy & I love you!

"Okay, never ever have I ever cheated on an exam." Christine narrowed her eyes at the masked teacher sitting across from her. She was skeptical. With seven fingers left, she looked down at his long digits and shook her head with defeat; six fingers left to go. "Christine! Have you ever cheated on one of my exams?"

"Of course not, English is the easiest subject known to man. It's math that is the bane of my existence, Dr. Lantier." The green eyed beauty smiled devilishly at the teacher, sitting up to think of a clever, 'Never Ever, Have I ever.' Pondering on her innocence, she finally landed on an experience, she had not yet had the pleasure of experiencing. "Never ever have I ever had sex in a public restroom." Christine raised her eyebrows insistingly, making kissing noises towards the blushing man. Erik looked down at his eight fingers, shutting his eyes to avoid the awkward eye contact with Christine. Slowly, he lowered the seventh finger in shame, turning bright red, but he hoped that the glare of the blazing flames masked his furious blush.

"Let me explain myself, Christine." She couldn't help, but let out a giant laugh, a chortle. She covered her mouth with her hands, giving him an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, teacher... I just don't think there is much to explain. I think the fact that you put your finger down... Explained yourself pretty damn well." Christine outburst with laughter again. "It's okay, it's okay." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his porcelain mask, sitting back down on her bottom. "Let's play the question game. I want to get to know you."

"Was this game not sufficient for you?" Christine shook her head, scooting to close the gap between them.

"Are you ready, Dr. Lantier?"

"I don't know how to play the question game." Christine gave him a plain stare, her green eyes glaring through her thick lashes.

"I ask you questions and you answer them with one word answers, quick fire questions. Are you ready?" Erik nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"Show me what's in that bag of yours, kitten." With an excited giggle, Christine smiled and began her rapid questioning.

"What's your middle name?"

"Jerome."

"When's your birthday?"

"Four-Seventeen."

"Your favorite color?"

"Red."

"Guilty pleasure?"

"Nachos."

"Sexual fantasy?" Erik swallowed hard, blinking slowly at the grinning girl.

"That answer is much longer than one word."

"Fine." Christine thought for a moment. "Top or bottom?" Christine winked.

"Bottom." Erik winked right back at her. "These questions are getting awfully lewd."

"Lace or silk?"

"Lace."

"When did you lose your virginity?"

Erik paused. Christine grinned, repeating the question.

"17."

"Where were you?"

"Christine-"

"Where were you?" Erik's expression turned serious, his palms laying flat on the ground. He locked his jaw, his teeth tightly pressed against one another. He didn't want to answer her question, but he knew if he stalled any longer, she would begin to get suspicious.

"Home." Christine slightly tipped her head, trying to figure out what took him so longer to answer. With a shrug, she asked her final question.

"Would you ever consider getting married to me, instead of her?"

"Possibly." Christine internally jumped for joy, her heart skipping several beats. Erik smiled softly, grabbing her tiny hands, pressing a kiss to each palm. "My turn." She nodded affirmatively, bracing herself for the range of questions that could not possibly be predetermined.

"Hit me with your best shot, Lantier." Giving a wink, Erik was off to a slow start.

"What's your middle name?"

"Elissa."

"What's your favorite animal?"

"Giraffe."

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

"Twelve."

"Favorite movie?"

"Chicago."

"Top or bottom?" Christine rolled her eyes.

"You're just repeating my questions, you dumbass!" Christine folded her arms over chest, pouting like a child. Erik couldn't help, but let out a small laugh.

"Top or bottom?" He asked once more, his face turned serious - well as serious as he could be. With a defeated sigh, Christine answered with a blush.

"Bottom." Erik smiled widely.

"That's a problem, isn't it?" Erik paused to think of another question. "Batman or Superman?"

"Batman."

"Boy or girl?" Christine narrowed her eyes at his extremely vague question.

"Erik, are you asking if I'm a boy or a girl, or are you asking if I want a boy or a girl for my first child?" Erik smiled again.

"The second one, the second option." Christine blushed even harder this time.

"Girl."

"Why did you choose me... Out of all the other professors?" Christine exhaled shakily, looking down at the embers that sparked from the bright flames. Silence fell over the two. Christine didn't have an answer for him, an answer he'd particularly enjoy hearing, at least. "Christine?"

"I... My answer requires more than one word, Erik." The thirty four year old breathed out, grabbing her tiny hands in his.

"I have time, all the time you need." Christine swallowed hard and moved her curls into a loose bun.

"When I registered for class, I looked through all of the available advanced English courses... I had gotten some letters from some professors, asking if I would be interested in taking their class, but none of them seemed to appeal to me... I stumbled upon your class and you didn't have a picture to go with your course description. It intrigued me." Christine's green eyes landed on the white mask. "All the other professors kept gloating and boasting about their degrees and accomplishments, I wasn't interested in how many languages they spoke or how many books they read in one summer. I came to learn and I wanted a professor that was there to teach."

"You picked me, because I was mysterious and faceless." Christine shrugged, her eyes averted to the blanket that draped over her. Her brow furrowed in thought as she mustered up the rest of her explanation. "There's more?"

"In your course description you had only one thing stated. You quoted Aristotle." Erik was taken aback, throughout surprise more so. He never actually thought that any of students actually read his course description. He figured that he got stuck with a bunch of business majors, trying to learn how to make a killer application essay, to the business graduate school of their choice. He stared at Christine in awe as she closed her eyes. With a deep breath, her plush lips parted and spoke softly the words like music to his ears.

"Educating the mind without educating the heart, is no education at all."

Christine barely finished quoting Aristotle before she found a pair of the warmest lips on her. Erik's hands were cupping her face as if he were holding the most precious of gold. He didn't know what it was that caused him to attack her like he was, but he didn't care, he needed her. Erik hastily removed the blanket that she covered herself with, laying Christine flat on the carpet. His hands wandered all over her body like he had never touched her before. She was breathing heavily, her hands in his hair as his lips attached to the hot flesh of her neck. She wasn't sure if it was her moans or his that were filling the room, but in a mixture of passion, he pulled off the flimsy tank top and devoured the extraordinary sight beneath him. He was sure his heart stopped beating. Wasting no time, he tugged off his own shirt and leaned down once again. The green eyes stared up at Erik, their hands gripping each other, holding on like it was their last seconds to live. The teacher moved his head down to his student's collar bone, brushing his lips against her skin, leaving feathery kisses down the crevice of her breasts. Her skin was burning. Looking up at the girl, Christine bit her lip in anticipation, nervousness, and desire. Erik noticed that his kitten was watching his every move, like a lioness out for her prey. With that knowledge and a grin, he hooked his fingers to the side of her underwear and slowly pulled them down, never breaking eye contact with his predator.

"Kitten, wake up... Kitten..." Christine groaned, turning over onto her stomach; like tutor, like student. "Christine, my dear, we have to start getting ready to leave. I have to pick Bailey up from the train station tonight and I can't be late." Christine groaned even louder at the mention of her name.

"Five more minutes, teacher..." Erik smiled down at the five foot three girl who was tangled in the sheets, her curls going every which way.

"If you wake up now, I'll make you chocolate chip pancakes..." Erik whispered in her ear. Christine could feel her goosebumps rising as Erik's lips brushed her skin, his presence soon leaving her. With one more whimper, she sat up and looked around for the masked man.

"Oh, sainte médaille... Que me veint de man souer... Au jour de la bataille... Pour écarter la mort... Reste sur mon couer..."

Christine smiled widely as she sat listening to Erik quietly sing in French, the sound of sizzling food in the background creating a nice ambiance. She stood to her feet, scanning the upper floor for her suitcase. Yawning loudly, she grabbed some clothes and quickly changed into them. She figured that she'll just shower when she got home. With a nod, she quickly packed the rest of her things and yawned again. Recalling last night's events, Christine began to blush. He was tender, he was loving. It felt like making love, though neither of them wanted to admit it. There was something about him that Drew Christine in, something beyond the mask and beyond the faceless course description. It was the way his hands moved in class when he was describing his favorite character in the current novel they were working on or the way his words fell so delicately from his tongue, it was as if they were crafted from velvet. Christine never thought of the age difference. Christine simply saw a man who was passionate about his work, who saw beauty in things that normally people who pass by and brush off as inconsequential. Christine saw a man who placed his heart fully into his teaching, never letting his mind get in the way.

"Miss Daaé, your breakfast has been served." Erik bowed jokingly at the bottom of the wooden staircase as he quickly jogged up to meet Christine at the top. She smiled softly, placing a kiss on his unmasked cheek.

"Ew, you're scratchy." She scrunched her face up, shaking her head at the sand paper feeling.

"You don't like my stubble?" She looked up at the towering man, smiling widely to no end.

"I like you, however you like you." Patting him on the chest, Christine made her way down the stairs, plopping herself down on the seat next to André. "Good morning, Monsieur. How are you today?" Nuzzling against his owner, the cat took a seat in happiness.

"Do you speak French?" Erik asked curiously as he brought down the luggage with ease. Christine shrugged her shoulders as she ravenously shoved a rather large piece of good into her mouth. "Do you have any other talents I don't know of, missy?"

"They wouldn't call them hidden talents if I showed them to you, would they?" Christine took a sip of her milk as her English professor leaned across the counter. "To answer your question though, I do speak French. I'm fluent in French. I am French, well my father was." Erik nodded, exhaling softly.

"What happened to your father?" Christine tensed, clutching her fork much too tightly. Erik could see Christine's breathing shallow, her face pull back in tightness as she pressed her jaw together in pressure. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"My father was a very bad man." She interjected, dropping her fork into her syrup covered plate. Her palm was red, engraved with ridges from the fork she held on with such force. "I'm glad that bastard is dead... Though... My step mom wasn't much better. She at least had some decency to her. My father..." Christine glared up at Erik who was now standing tall. He was cautious of the girl, not knowing exactly what to expect. Her tiny hands were balled up into fists, her chest heaving up and down in deep breaths. Her eyes were glassy and her eyebrow was raised in antipathy. With a final exhale, she turned on her heel and excused herself from the table, not wanting to relive whatever horror she once bore.

"My father, may he rot in hell."

"Hello darling." Erik leaned down to kiss his fiancée, knowing that he didn't have to bend as far down as he would if he was kissing Christine. Bailey was about five foot seven. Placing a loving kiss on her lips, he grabbed her two bags as they began walking to his car. "How was the convention?"

"It was wonderful! I learned so many new things!" Bailey stepped excitedly with her fiancé, going on about different ways to braid hair and something about ombré dye. Erik drowned out her blabbing, being not too fond of hair salon talk and the fifty new ways to braid someone's hair. "I even bought new equipment!" Erik halted immediately in his tracks.

"You did?" Bailey rolled her eyes, knowing that he was going to get mad. "How much did it cost, the equipment?"

"In the end it cost about four hundred, but Mindy paid for some of it. It could have been six hundred if she hadn't offered to pay-"

"Bailey." Erik seethed as he set her luggage abruptly in front of his car's trunk. "You spent four hundred dollars on equipment and you let Mindy pay two hundred dollars for the rest?" Erik had moved in closer to the blonde, who clearly wasn't listening. "Bailey Sierra, what did I tell you about spending money?" Erik was fuming. Bailey's eyes had gone to the floor as she fiddled with the zipper of her coat, she remained silent. Erik demanded to hear her explanation one last time. His patience was wearing thin, very thin.

"I just..." Bailey whispered. "I'm sorry... I really... Erik..." Her blue eyes met his, they were unbelievably wide. Erik suddenly stumbled backwards into the car, his breath taken straight from his lungs. He quickly rubbed his eyes, trying to get the image out of his head, the merging of his two worlds colliding, out of his head. Bailey's wide blue eyes staring up at him had morphed into impossibly big green eyes, her voice transforming into the innocent student, he was so deeply in love with, so disturbingly connected to. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes to find his fiancées hand on his cheek, his masked removed, and her coat above them. She was shielding the public from seeing his face... She was protecting him.

"B-Bailey..." He breathed out, his mouth dry and his exhales staggered. "I-I'm sorry I yelled at you... I'm s-so sorry..." Her body pressed against his as he brought it closely to warm her. He missed the feeling of her fit figure against him. They had been torn apart by the winds of their occupation, the wind of adultery and chance. The blue eyes of kindness searched Erik's mismatched eyes once again, blinking slowly in tempo somehow, with the beat of his heart.

"Don't be sorry, my love. Let me drive us home, you look exhausted." Bailey pressed a kiss to Erik's trembling lips, a kiss much needed. It was warm, it was passionate. It seemed to mend their hearts together, to rekindle the flame that once was lost. "Erik..."

"Yes, dear?" He was sincere, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"I love you. I hope you know that."

He did. He loved her too, but he loved another. The pain that stroke him in the heart was so great that he began to sob into his fiancée, burying his face into her chest. He didn't care if anyone saw his scars, his infection, his disease! He gripped her waist, trying to hold onto what he had left to give her; it certainly wasn't much and it wasn't what she wanted, but she had no clue. He was being pulled into two separate directions. He was clueless, he was frightened. Erik tried to form words, but Bailey just held him, trying to console him. She had never seen him like this, so broken, so afraid. It made her wonder about what had conspired this weekend, what took place in his soul that made him so desperate for love, for forgiveness. He slowly emerged from his burrow, his mismatched eyes red with pain and desolation. Bailey ushered him to the front seat, making sure he was warm. Putting the bags in the trunk, she got into the front seat and started the car. She glanced over at Erik who sat stoically, facing the front. She exhaled deeply and turned towards the unmasked man.

"Erik, there is something I need to tell you." Erik blinked, turning to face the blonde woman. She was expressionless, just like him.

"What is it?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Erik stayed still. The world stayed still. "You can tell me anything." No. Not this.

"I didn't go to a hair salon convention, these past four days." Erik's eyes widened, his head tilting in anger, confusion, and curiosity.

"Where the hell did you go, then?" Who was he to question her?

"Just please, you have to understand-"

"Understand what, Bailey?" Erik's voice shook the windows of the car. He leaned over the middle console, his face inches from hers. "You're trying my patience." He gritted through his teeth, making the blonde girl flinch backwards into the window. She winced at the sight of him. She shut her eyes tightly, her lips quivering as she spoke the words that he only dreamt of hearing, but never actually longed to hear.

"I can't marry you!"

A/N: dun... dun... dun... and the love triangle continues... what shall Erik do? he tries my patience! he shall make his choice very soon...

read and review!

the French little song Erik sings is a little aria from Faust. I do not own it. I just copied it from some website.

thank you so much for continually supporting me through this stressful time with this move / my health. I love you all & I hope you enjoyed this chapter.