The Second Request

Nadir walked into the shop and stood holding the door as Erik slouched in after him. It was a necessary trip, but that didn't make it any easier for the reclusive man. Everywhere he and Christine went, people recognized them. It was no longer three or four people on the bus; it was small crowds. They wanted autographs – some even had the gall to ask for photographs! Christine could generally charm their admirers into letting them go on their way, but he still avoided going out when he could talk her into staying home.

Nadir did not even attempt to disperse the crowds. He liked being surrounded by an admiring public. As far as he was concerned, Erik was only getting his dues. Of course, the men's clothiers store management would not let the throng in, for which Erik was extremely grateful.

Soon, Erik was tricked out nicely in a two-button classic tuxedo with a tailor examining the fit. This shop boasted two-day custom tailoring, which was why Nadir thought it would be a good choice. Finally, the tailor sat back on his heels.

"Not much I'll have to do. We'll take in the jacket a bit, and the shirt, but we don't want too close a fit." The man's little more than a skeleton, he thought, but judiciously kept it to himself. He had no idea how much Erik had filled out since Christine entered his life. "It will be ready by tomorrow afternoon."

"That's just fine," Nadir smiled. He turned Erik towards the full-length mirror, which Erik skillfully avoided throughout the appointment. "Look at yourself, my boy. Christine will be blown away. She'll be breathless."

"Can we get out of here now?" Erik growled. "Before this man touches me again..." Erik wanted no one touching him but Christine, and the tailor's measuring certainly counted as touching.

"Of course, son, of course. Let's go"

That night, Christine and Erik snuggled comfortably in bed, each absorbed in watching the other. Erik was contemplating her gentle fingers as they ran through his hair lovingly. Christine was contemplating her plans for their wedding.

"Erik?"

"Yes, love?"

"Our ceremony is going to be perfect."

He smiled softly. "It will."

"We've rehearsed everything to the smallest detail. All the officiator – what's his name?"

"Archer."

"All Mr. Archer has to do is ask the questions, pronounce us, and sign the certificate. He's heard what we've composed..." The little man had sniffled and reached for a tissue midway through the tape. "But there's the matter of your mask."

"He saw the paper, he said." Erik stretched and pushed his arm under back and around her shoulders. "I'd figure he'd be happy to let me keep my mask. Not that I'd allow any quibbling over it."

"City Hall would never have allowed it." Christine didn't mention that she had called around for several hours before she found an independent officiator who would allow a masked groom.

"No, which is why we aren't going to City Hall."

Christine watched his expression, not liking the weather brewing there. She decided to edge around the subject a little longer. "We've got the prettiest little room at the Warwick. Mom and Meg will be doing all the decorations...Mom's a whiz with flowers." After a moment's thought, she added, "It's very private. No windows or any such thing."

"I'm sure staff will be in and out..."

"Nope. We've made sure of that. Perfectly private. And everything else is planned out as well. My mother and Meg will bring the dress by that morning and Nadir has promised to get you out of the way."

"Out of the way? I'll be in your way?" Erik threw her a hurt look.

"Don't be silly, Erik. You know you can't see me before the ceremony on our wedding day. Bad luck, you know? Besides, all you have to do is put on a suit. I have to be corseted and laced and draped and made up and goodness knows what else."

"I won't know you..." Erik had tried to imagine Christine in her bridal gown, but he knew all his fantasies would fall short.

"You'll know me just fine." She rolled over onto his chest and kissed his collarbone teasingly. "I'll be the one in white." She nibbled at his neck and ear in her funny little way, knowing it drove him mad. "But I won't know you."

Erik sat back from her, suddenly nervous. "What?"

"In the mask." She looked up to meet his eyes. "You remember what you promised me..."

"Huh?"

"You promised me that whatever I asked, you'd do. And I told you I already had two requests. I got one right away, but I reserved the other for a later time."

"Is now that time?"

Her fingers strayed to his face, tracing its lines and scars. It always amazed him that she could bear to touch him; even more amazing was that she could always do it without causing the slightest twinge of pain, that she could allow him to feel pleasure even in that most damaged of places.

"I think so." She bit her lip. Now that the time was upon them, her heart hammered and her words gummed up in her throat.

He waited, hunting for any clue. "Go on keeping your secrets, then." Erik kissed her firmly. "When you can tell me …"

"No. I'm getting there. It's just that I want to ask you for something, and I know you aren't going to like it. At all. This is my second request, my love," she whispered and lifted her hands to his naked face, touching the much-loved imperfections. "Please be like this."

He blinked. "Like what?"

Here came the hard part. Christine steeled herself and carried on as planned. "I cannot marry a mask, Erik."

Erik's eyes widened when he understood that she was entirely serious. He shook his head slowly.

"You can't ask that of me. Not in front of them." How could even think it was possible? He thought of their guest list. Her parents and sweet little Aunt Carol would be there, innocent of the horror behind his mask. Mr. Archer, Meg, and Jay had seen the paper, but print hardly translated into real life. His future family, potential friends, people he might have come to know and care for...if they saw, any chance he might have had with them would be obliterated. Anything else, he'd have granted without a moment's hesitation. But this? "Please. You know I can't, Christine."

"You promised" she repeated. "It will be fine. Don't you trust me?" Her tone was pleading, but she was adamant. She would carry this through until he heard her out.

"I trust you. I trust you, but this will ruin everything." His voice, even in a faint whisper, was soaked in sorrow. "Why, Christine? Why can't you just let it be beautiful?"

"It will be," she assured him "You don't need it. They don't, either. It will be alright, my Angel of Music. I promise. Let it go, Erik, it's not important. Look at me, play for me, and it will be beautiful."

He fell back on the pillows and closed his eyes. "You haven't answered me," he said, softer than before. "Why?"

"I did tell you why. I want to marry you. I love you. I'm only going to get married once and I want to see my groom when I do it." She held his hands tightly. "Don't you want the thing off, too? Don't you think there should be nothing between us? When we say 'I do'? When we kiss?"

"The guests…"

"The guests will be fine." Christine harrumphed. "It's not their wedding, you know? No one but you, me, the officiant, and two witnesses even has to be there. I can tell everyone not to come if you want. Nadir and Meg can witness for us. Nadir won't mind, and Meg still owes us."

He lay silent, breathing, steadying himself. Finally, he opened his eyes. "You would rather have no guests than have me wear the mask?"

"Absolutely."

He closed his eyes again. "And you know how…how hard this will be. For me. For our captive audience."

"No," she admitted. "I just know we'll both regret it later if you wear it."

"Can we compromise? I will consider it, but I'm not going to decide. Not now. Not until the day of the wedding. Your dress is a secret, and so will this be." He turned over, pulling the blankets up to his neck. "You don't know what you're asking, Christine. I suppose I see your reasoning, and maybe it's even true, but you just don't know."

"I suppose that's all I can really ask for." Christine snuggled close to his tense frame and threw her arm over his shoulder. "You know I'll marry you either way."

Unmollified, Erik grumbled, "Maybe I should ask you to come down the aisle naked."

"After what my Dad paid for that dress?" She squeezed him as tightly as she could. "Ok, but you have to explain it to him."

After a moment, Christine felt Erik wrap his arms over hers. The discussion was over; he either would or he would not, and nothing she said at this point could change it. She relaxed against him and listened to his breathing gradually slow and deepen.

"I love you, Erik."

"I love you, too," he conceded.