I probably shoooould have made this segment shorter but... a character in my show is in great peril and I barely managed to tear myself away so I could post! So forgive its lateness and... Lincoln! I'm coming back to you!

Ahem.

Onward!

vi

Christine nestled further under the covers, not wishing to move. The drapes, much heavier and thicker than her own flimsy offerings on her apartment windows, blocked even the most determined sunbeams from entering, leaving the room a dark and cozy place.

And driving was exhausting.

Even if all she had to do was sit still and look out the window.

This was their third hotel in as many days, each much finer than she would have expected on a marshal's budget. But then, she really understood so little about the system. Part of her also expected to hear from Detective Nadir, but Erik simply promised her that any such calls would go through him.

"Anonymity is important, Christine. Your safety is paramount. And if anyone should realize that he is making calls to an unknown number halfway across the country..." He'd shaken his head and tsked low in his throat, and she suddenly felt very stupid.

"But how will I know when I need to go back? If... when the man has been caught and I have to testify?"

Erik gave her a searching glance before turning his eyes back to the road. "As I have stated, I will inform you of any changes. Now, do you care for music?"

This he said with a bit of a smile playing about his lips, and Christine rolled her eyes at him good naturedly. Most of their journey consisted of long silences or arguments over Erik's musical selections. On more than one occasion it seemed that he grew overly vexed when she disagreed, his mouth opening to summon some retort, his eyes narrow slits. But before she could grow too nervous or stammer a redaction, he would simply shake his head with a barely audible, "You are young," and skip to the next song.

She did not appreciate his assessment of her, but she also did not want him to be upset with her so she had yet to press him further on the matter. Twenty-two was not so very young. Before all of this horrid business had begun, she had a career and a home of her own—a life. Perhaps a very quiet one, perhaps one that would not be envied by many, but it was hers. And her father had ensured that her musical education was not at all lacking, so his dismissal of her opinions was not very appreciated.

But what kept her silent on the subject was the knowledge of how very lonely all of this would be—at least, even more than it already was—if Erik was truly cross with her. Maybe then he'd make her sit in the back, would not offer any conversation or even agree to one of her road games with that longsuffering sigh that was his wont.

And then when they reached their final destination, what if he simply dropped her off somewhere and left her on her own? It was one thing to have carried on after her papa left with a city so very familiar to her. It was something else entirely to consider wandering around an unknown place, with no leads as to a job or an apartment, with little cash in her pocket.

She always tried to keep some in her purse, and with Erik's insistence that she not even take her debit card, unless she could find a bank and prove her true identity—which somehow she doubted Erik would consider a wise thing—she would not be retrieving more.

"Will you be joining the living today, or shall you prefer to remain as you are?"

Christine nearly groaned, peeking out from beneath the fluffy duvet to look at Erik leaning between the doorways of their adjoining rooms.

She had thought at first that it would be terribly awkward to have so little privacy from a relative stranger, but it was not overly so. Erik was very respectful of her space, only entering her room when directly asked and never going so far as to touch her person at all.

Professional. That described him well.

The only exception was when he helped her out of the car. She had protested at first, insisting that the height was no trouble for her, and at first he had respected that—hovering, but not interfering. But yesterday she'd been tired and her legs uncooperative, and if he had not moved so quickly she would have ended up with more than a scraped knee.

"Do you never sleep in? We've been driving for ages."

The light was still dim, but from his sigh, she was left with the distinct impression that he was rolling his eyes at her.

"Some believe that the body is most productive in the mornings. Clearly you are not in agreement."

Christine groused but rolled over, flicking on the bedside lamp so she could see him properly. "How far are we going today?"

"Well, unless you agree to leave this bed, we will not make any progress at all," he retorted dryly. "And since I have only booked these rooms for the single night and checkout is in ten minute's time, unless you have the funds to cover the overages..."

Christine yelped and shoved down the covers, hurrying to her suitcase and pulling out the first comfortable clothes her fingers touched before barricading herself in the bathroom.

Only to belatedly realize that Erik had received quite a view of her legs as she had discarded her sweater and socks before climbing into bed the night before.

Her cheeks burned and she hoped he wouldn't say anything. She was mortified enough already.

She had showered the night before as had become her custom when at last they finished driving for the day. Erik's car was quite comfortable, the leather seats supple and everything very clean. But she still felt stale and stuffy after being cooped up for so long, and he had taken to ordering her a meal while she readied for bed. And she privately thought that he'd begun to linger just a little bit closer to their adjoining doors to see if she would ask him to eat with her.

He still never had a full meal himself, and she was beginning to feel like quite the glutton in comparison to his own limited intake. He promised that he was simply not hungry, but as she never actually saw him consume a full meal aside from the occasional nibble now and again, she worried that perhaps he was simply not allowed to be distracted by eating. Meaning he was hungry because of her.

A knot settled in her belly whenever she thought of it, and she promised herself that she would ask him about it today.

She finished her morning ablutions as quickly as possible, not wanting to spend the very last of her cash on rooms she likely could not have easily afforded even under the best of circumstances.

"Ready?"

Christine nodded, placing the last of her things back into her suitcase and zipping it closed. She missed having a dresser. And being stationary for a while. Where there were bathrooms that one did not have to muster up the courage to ask for.

Erik had been very polite about it all, but still she felt horribly embarrassed whenever she had to quietly ask him to find a rest stop for a moment. He always did so promptly, reminding her that he wanted her to travel without discomfort, but still, it was awkward and she rather hated it.

Yesterday he had started stopping for fuel on a far more frequent basis, politely suggesting she take the time to stretch her legs while he saw to things with the car, and she was increasingly grateful for his discretion and thoughtfulness.

Erik took the handle of her suitcase as well as his own, walking them both out to the trunk and depositing them in the back. Not for the first time, Christine wished she had some skill that would give her something to do during their long sojourn. Knitting. Or crochet. Or even needlepoint. But she had none of those skills, and the few favorite books that inhabited her suitcase would have to remain where they were—it would not prove wise to add queasiness to her growing complaints.

"You will be relieved to know that I believe we will reach a potential candidate for your final relocations today. Presuming you find the area to your liking."

Christine turned to him, a wide smile forming on her face. "Really?"

Erik glanced at her before looking away, turning on the vehicle and focusing his attention on pulling out of the narrow parking space. "Yes. It has much water which was the only criterion you saw fit to provide me."

Christine laughed softly at his tone, disgruntled as it was, though she sobered quickly at his reproachful look. "Sorry."

He merely sniffed in response, returning his eyes to the road.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she'd yet to have breakfast. Usually he would have ordered something from room service to be brought to her, but she supposed she slept through his attempted provision.

Erik frowned at her. "You are hungry."

"Yes," she confirmed, already feeling guilty. She supposed he might have eaten this morning while she slept—possibly even the fare he had thought to give her before she had decided the bed was too nice to leave so soon—but if he had indeed been going hungry because of some duty to her protection...

She felt she at least had to apologize for that necessity.

"Erik," she began carefully, still very aware of the consequences if she provoked him overmuch, and she hoped he would not take offense to her attempt at sympathy. "I'm sorry if... that is to say... I'm sorry if there's some rule against you eating with me while you're on duty. I don't like to think about you going hungry all because of me."

His grip tightened on the wheel, and her wariness grew. Maybe it would have been wisest to remain silent on the subject. "Forget I said anything," she mumbled quietly, shifting in her seat so she could look more fully in the opposite direction. Perhaps if she afforded him some privacy, he would not be the one too cross to speak with her, and later she could attempt to smooth things over once again.

"Christine," he stated so firmly that she could not help but look back toward him. "I do not deny myself any wanted sustenance on your behalf, so you may release yourself of any needless guilt. I can assure you, I eat to my satisfaction. That seemed to occur, however, when you are absent."

Christine nibbled at her lip. "Is that on purpose? Would it be... bad to eat with me?"

He eyed her shrewdly for a moment as they came to a stop light, the freeway beckoning just beyond. "You would wish that?"

She flushed and fiddled with the tightly bound leather of the seat. "I mean, I always ate alone at my apartment, and that was fine. But I just thought..." she shrugged, feeling foolish. Erik was not here to be her friend. This was a job and nothing more to him, and he was under no obligation to eat meals with her and talk with her and keep her company in the evenings just because she asked it of him. He was not her friend, he was her protector. Paid by the government to be so, simply because a man wanted to kill her. And even with that charge, he'd still likely find a decent spot, and once she was set up enough with a job and an apartment, he wouldn't even be that anymore. He'd leave and she'd...

She'd be alone.

Again.

She swallowed thickly and looked back out the window.

And to her great surprise, Erik did not take the freeway entrance, but instead pulled to the side of the road just before it.

"You are upset. Why?"

How could she explain without embarrassing herself further? She had not made many friends at the theatre, but that had been her choice. To grow close to someone meant she could just as easily lose them and she had not been ready to relive such an experience yet again. But with Erik, his presence had been wholly thrust upon her, frightening and intimidating at the beginning and now... now a comfort that she craved. Companionship, conversation. They were things so enjoyed and familiar in the past and now that she had them again, she was loath to be without.

But she was being unfair and ridiculous. Surely he had a life back at home—wherever his home might be—and she was being purely selfish. She would not be a ninny about things. She would thank him for his kindness, for making the stress of this whole horrible situation so much more bearable, and would most certainly not cry when he left her.

"Christine?"

"Sorry," she murmured, her throat unusually tight and strained. "Just overwhelmed, I guess."

His head cocked slightly to the side. "Why?"

She knew she was confusing him; of course she was. Her feelings were too erratic to have any sense of rationality, and to try to speak of them to him would only further her upset. And she did not wish to cry in front of him. That felt too manipulative. She'd seen the frightened look in her papa's eyes when she would have such emotional outbursts, and even as caring and sweet as he had learned to be when she no longer had a mother to turn to, he always would chuckle and tell her how awkward and unsure he felt whenever she would turn those tearful eyes to his.

Erik sighed deeply at her silence, and she scrounged hurriedly for some explanation to offer him. But how could she confess that she was growing too dependent on his presence? The comfort it brought her in a world that would wholly be new?

"We're almost there," she managed finally. "And that scares me."

He frowned at her again, obviously not expecting that answer. "Why should it? I would have thought you would relish being through with our travels."

She laughed, a weary sound even to her own ears. "I thought so too. But now... now I remember that there's so much I don't know, don't know how to even prepare myself for and you..." she stopped herself short, wishing she hadn't even mentioned him.

"What about me?" he insisted, his eyes narrow as he watched her carefully.

Christine sighed miserably and lay her head against the back of the headrest with a mild thump. "It is embarrassing to even say."

He was silent for a moment, and she could not bring herself to look at him. Finally, he started the car and she startled thoroughly when he suddenly turned the car about and forewent their obvious destination, abandoning the freeway entirely. "What are you doing?"

Thankfully he maneuvered any traffic with ease, settling them into their proper lane without killing them or anyone else, but her heart still pounded at what she was certain was a highly illegal u-turn.

"You clearly require breakfast. Perhaps after you have eaten sufficiently you will be willing to explain yourself more thoroughly."

Christine opened her mouth to retort that she most certainly was not simply acting strange due to hunger, but quickly closed it again when her stomach clutched at her. Well. If he wished to feed her, then she wasn't going to object.

He did not have to go far before he pulled up to a coffee shop, and Christine hopped down on her own without waiting for his assistance. His eyes narrowed at her once again, but she walked past him into the store, her emotions still quite rankled. The morning was a busy one, the line long, but Erik still kept a careful distance between them as they waited.

On more than one occasion she glanced toward him, trying to find words to explain herself properly, only to find him staring at her, his expression grim. She looked guiltily away.

She wasn't being fair. He had been nothing but kind, but that was precisely what was so difficult.

Christine went forward and ordered a cup of tea and a plump looking scone, and very nearly confirmed that the order was complete, except suddenly Erik's voice cut in from above her. "And a small coffee."

She blinked up at him, not at all expecting him to join her for breakfast—he most certainly had never done it before. He looked at her rather pointedly when he handed the cashier his credit card, and Christine felt thoroughly chastened by the entire encounter. He had his own reasons for whatever he did, and she did not know him well enough to begin to make assumptions. And he also was the one who paid for all her meals and saw that she had a bed every night, and it wouldn't do to begin to be ungrateful.

Before she could apologize to him, a bag with her scone and her tea were handed to her, and Erik accepted his coffee with a simple nod of thanks.

They prepared their drinks in silence, her adding cream and sugar, while Erik accepted only the smallest dash of milk to his otherwise dark brew. She had never managed to acquire a taste for coffee. Her father had liked it, drank a single cup every morning as he read the newspaper. And though the smell, even now, made her think of him, the taste was still as bitter and unpleasant as when she'd stolen sips as a girl.

"You like coffee?" she asked Erik dubiously. It didn't come as a great surprise—plenty of people clearly enjoyed it—but she was trying to find some small measure of more comfortable conversation before she tried to explain her previous upset.

Erik shrugged his shoulders and held the door open for her as they exited, before doing the same as they came to the car once more. "It is adequate."

She frowned, realizing he referred to this particular blend, not his liking of it in general.

She settled back into her seat and fastened her belt before opening her bag and taking a bite of scone, trying not to shower his nice interior with crumbs as her slightly warm breakfast was clearly attempting to do.

He was still looking at her in that strange and searching way as got in his own seat, and it made her very uncomfortable. "I'm sorry about the crumbs," she tried, hoping that appeased him. "I'll brush them all out when we stop next."

Erik sighed deeply and placed his coffee in the cup holder, starting the car with a frustrated shake of his head. "I care less about the crumbs and more about why you are acting so very oddly this morning. Do you require time to digest before you will prove more apt at sense making?"

Christine took a sip of hot tea to keep from arguing with him. She wasn't making much sense as she had spoken little of her thoughts and trepidations, and she could not suddenly begin punishing him for not being able to guess the source of her fears.

No matter how much she might wish to.

This time they eased onto the freeway without any drastic movements on Erik's part, and she wondered if this truly was the last leg of their journey. An uncomfortable knot settled in her stomach and her lovely scone lost some of its appeal.

"Well? Or are we to continue on in silence?"

Christine huffed out a breath and gave him an exasperated look. "You have a very good way of making me angry enough to talk. I suppose that's better than being on the verge of tears that everything is about to change again."

Erik looked at her in mild surprise. "It is not my intention to cause you vexation, only to spur you to speaking your thoughts. They clearly have upset you, and I can do nothing to help until I know what has gone wrong." His voice dropped. "You were fine yesterday," he murmured softly to himself, clearly assessing and analyzing her mental status.

Christine rolled her eyes.

"I told you on the very first day that I couldn't visualize what my future looked like. And while I can't say I've enjoyed every moment of our road trip," he glanced at her sharply at that, clearly wanting to prod for more information on that front, but she pressed on, "it was comfortable. Is comfortable. And now..." A lump settled back in her throat and she had to struggle to keep her voice from breaking. She felt utterly ridiculous and stupid, and Erik was...

Erik was simply a man trying to help.

She sighed and thumped her head against the headrest a few times, trying to force her thoughts to align properly.

To her very great surprise, a large hand was suddenly at her neck, preventing her from doing so.

He released her almost immediately, her shock at his touch—gloved though it was in the finest leather she could ever imagine—causing her to cease the action completely.

"Do not do that," he told her quietly. "You may injure yourself."

She wanted to release an incredulous laugh, but there was something odd about his tone, the way he suddenly refused to look at her, and she could only nod her assent instead.

They went on in silence for a moment before Erik straightened his already impressive posture. He always made her feel a bit gangly in comparison, as she slumped and nestled and contorted in the seat to whatever suited her best in the moment.

"You were saying that our travels have been moderately comfortable, yet now..." he prompted with a pointed look for her to continue.

Christine took another sip of tea, enjoying the warmth between her hands and the distraction it brought her. "And now there's just a scary, lonely world out there that I'd have to learn to navigate on my own. Again."

Erik looked at her sharply. "Who told you that you would be alone?"

Christine's brow furrowed. "No one told me, but wouldn't that make the most sense? You're taking me to safety, someplace where no one knows me, with a new identity and a new life. And then you'll leave and I'll just... be there." She hated the thought of it. Of having left the familiar, of leaving behind the acquaintances she valued, of letting Raoul have the opportunity to pursue her.

She snorted softly to herself at that, realizing even now the unlikelihood of that particular happening. He would have noticed her long before if she was of any great importance, regardless of what Erik had told her. She was very much above age now, yet still he had forgotten her and continued to ignore her in the hallways. At the very least he might have said hello...

Christine tugged out her papa's ring from underneath her shirt, rubbing at it. It still felt strange to have it on a chain, and she missed rotating it on her thumb—a soothing action that had brought her a great deal of comfort. But she would not be responsible for losing it again, so she told herself firmly that she would simply have to adjust.

"I will not be leaving you," Erik stated firmly at her side. "I do not know if such an idea stems from your own imagination or perhaps too much television, but I can assure you, I am not going to abandon you."

Something tightened in her chest, and to her horror it felt a great deal like a sob. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, and took another sip of tea simply to soothe the last of her upset, before she addressed him again. "Is that normally how it works? You'd sure need a lot of marshals if one stayed with every person that needed to be relocated."

Erik's lips quirked downward. "You do not need to worry over how I see to my job. I do it well, and with great success, and I would appreciate if you did not question it." His tone was tense and almost sharp, and she looked away from him, her feelings stung.

She did not mean to question him. But perhaps some people did not like too many questions or comments about their job performance. She wondered what that would be like, her own work constantly open to critiques and well-meaning—or not so well-meaning—suggestions on how she could improve.

"Then what will happen?" she finally asked, slightly irritated at his harsh response. "Because you haven't told me very much, and when I don't know I start to worry. And I can conjure up some pretty dreadful things..."

Erik's frown deepened. "That will not be necessary."

Christine very nearly released a groan of frustration when he remained silent once again, and she shifted in her seat so that her back was turned to him. She did not know anymore if he was being unreasonable or if she had crossed the line into being so herself, but at the moment she didn't particularly care.

All she wanted was a vision of her future—something concrete she could hold onto when all her fears surfaced, her worries and her frettings—and he denied her that. For her protection? Or because the answer would only cause her further distress?

"We will stay in a hotel until I find a suitable home for you. Somewhere that offers enough privacy for your comfort, but within the bounds of the city so that your presence there will not be questioned. Is that sufficient information?"

Christine huffed and looked at him over her shoulder without turning completely. "Where will you be? If you don't live with me, will I see you frequently or would it not be safe to contact you unless it's an emergency?"

Erik answered softly, though there was something in his tone she could not readily identify. "Would you like that? To have such limited contact with me?"

If she hadn't promised him to stop, she would thump her head against the back of the headrest again. "That's not what I said. And not at all what I meant. Why would you think that?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug. "It has been my experience that my presence is rarely welcome for long. You have proved remarkably resilient thus far, and it is expected that even you should have your limitations."

Christine opened her mouth and then closed it again, not wholly certain how to respond. Finally, she settled on some measure of comfort, for he said those things with such mild resignation, that she was fairly sure it covered some amount of hurt. "I'm sorry if your other... charges didn't like your company. All I can say is… it's a scary thing, this witness protection thing. Everything is so unknown, and you don't even hear from the detectives with an update on the case, so you have no way of knowing if the person after you is getting closer or you lost them completely. And maybe… maybe it isn't you at all, but just the circumstances. Maybe some people like to just withdraw, and you being there keeps them from doing that."

Erik offered her a grim smile, and she immediately felt foolish for having spoken at all. "You are very kind to say so, Christine, but I am well aware that my presence is a trial. As I have said, none have cared for it for long."

She shouldn't prod. It was rude, and she didn't want to make him cross.

But already they were rather at odds, and if they were to maintain a relationship, she'd like to know more about him. Other than his taste in music, she new remarkably little about him. He listened to her personal stories with interest—or at least, she hoped she could read him enough to know that it was interest and not a feigned sort of indulgence on his part—but he rarely offered anything of his own.

"You must have had a family. Surely they liked your company just fine."

It was very much the wrong thing to say, she knew it as soon as the words had left her.

His entire body tensed, his eyes narrowing and his mouth forming a tight line. She had thought him intimidating before, when first he had appeared in her doorway, all long limbed and radiating authority.

That was nothing compared to Erik when he was angered.

Sooo... uh oh! Just haaaad to go and bring up the family, Christine! Think Erik's going to blow up at her? I think he's been relatively calm so far, all things considered.