Thank you, Mystery for the reminder! I was going to set up a timer system but since I couldn't even get my alarm to go off properly this morning *sigh* I fear 'tis hopeless. So thank you all for your patience! I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays and everything isn't too hectic. I finished my wrapping (finally) after much procrastination, so that's... something. Now if I could only finish decorating.

But enough of that. Onward!

vii

"F-forget I said anything," Christine insisted hastily. "Of course you don't need to talk about your family if you don't want to."

He nodded stiffly, and Christine could not help but feel a little disappointed. She was so curious about him, this mysterious man that was charged with her protection, but that did not give her leave to pry into painful memories.

"You never answered my question," she said at last, though at his look she hastened to clarify. "Not... not about your parents. I mean, about where you'll be staying."

"Where would you like for me to stay?"

There was nothing overly considerate about his tone, almost as if he had already made up his mind regarding the answer—and evidently it was not to his liking.

She nibbled at her lip, thoughtful for a moment. Would it be wrong to say that she'd rather he stay with her? At least, if the living space was big enough. They would both need their privacy if things were to remain professional—she did not want to be exposing her legs and other attributes so carelessly over the ensuing months. Perhaps if they found an apartment that was too small, him taking up residence next door would be sufficient. Close, but not too close. Able to help if she needed it, without interfering in her everyday life...

As if she now had one to interfere with.

"I want whatever is safest. And... I want you to be comfortable. If you were staying with me and that meant you couldn't ever relax or eat or... take time for yourself, I don't think that would be fair. I'm sure that the program wasn't set up for their marshals to have to sacrifice all of their time."

He looked at her rather oddly. "Are you sure of that?"

She flushed. "Well, no, but if it isn't, then that's a silly system."

"Even if it keeps people alive? Would you not think that the sacrifice was worthwhile?"

Christine hesitated. "I don't..."

"If we were to find a house somewhere, it would be most advisable for me to remain there with you. Quite economical, do you not agree? To save the expense of a second dwelling?"

She could not argue with that, already feeling guilty at all the taxpayer money that was going into her personal safety.

"And," Erik continued, not allowing time for her to reply or protest if she felt so inclined. "We shall have to provide a story to satisfy the neighbors regarding our presence there in the neighborhood."

That made sense... so why did he look as if he was almost taunting her?

"Tell me, Christine, would you prefer to be an unwed couple that are living together most illicitly, or pose as a happily married couple just beginning their new lives of wedded bliss?"

Christine simply stared at him.

"I... those are my only options?"

Erik shrugged. "That I can see. A man living alone with a woman..." he clicked his tongue almost reproachfully. "Those are typically the only two reasons."

"There are sometimes roommates of the opposite sex," she told him without much vigor. Even she thought it an odd arrangement when she heard some of her coworkers were living so.

And it was not uncommon to later see them giving each other long glances, their relationships announced soon after.

Christine bit her lip again, suddenly unsure about the whole thing. Erik was... he might be an officer of the law, probably had a very large and thorough code of ethics he had to ascribe to when he took this position—one that strictly forbade fraternization with any of his charges.

But he was also a man, and some things were just natural, weren't they? Close quarters, an abundance of time spent together...

"I shall take from your silence that the idea of being with me in any romantic capacity is wholly a distasteful one." There was that odd note to his voice again, almost accusing in its certainty—as if she had just confirmed some great truth that he had always suspected.

Christine was thoroughly confused why any of this mattered.

"You didn't give me time to think!"

Erik gave her a simpering smile, and she rather hated it. "My apologies. Which aspect required such a great deal of concentration on your part?"

Christine glared at him. "I don't know why you're taking this so personally. It's not like anything could happen between us for you to get your feelings hurt." She wasn't expecting him to look so stung, but he did.

Did that mean he... thought about her that way?

She didn't know how she felt about that. Didn't know how she felt about any of it.

Until three days ago, she had quite thoroughly nursed feelings for Raoul, regardless of her more practical realization that he might not be wholly worthy of her affections—not if he didn't even care to notice her. But still, despite what Erik's manly pride might demand, she was not ready to transfer them so easily. He was kind—at least, when he tried to be—and thoughtful—when he wasn't looking at her like this and using this tone—and maybe in time, if it was not actually banned by his superiors and ethics in general, she might find herself at least considering the possibility.

But not at this particular moment.

"I'm not used to being a deceitful person, and all that has to change now. Even whenever I introduce myself, it'll be its own lie because I won't even get to use my real name. And then when you add that now I have to claim a relationship with you that isn't there—pretend at a life with you that never existed..."

Erik still appeared rather sour as he continued to stare at the road beyond them. "I thought you feared being left alone, though evidently this is a far worse alternative."

Christine took a deep breath, searching for the right words to explain without angering him further. "Between your two alternatives, yes, I would rather that we appear married. I never thought I'd... live with a man before being his wife," her papa had instilled that most thoroughly before his death, "and I wouldn't want them thinking otherwise." Not that she did not know lots of girls who lived with their boyfriends at the theatre. And most of them seemed happy enough, at least for now. But Christine craved permanence and safety and security, in addition to love and affection. To be one with someone...

Erik was silent for a long while, and Christine was grateful for the opportunity to gather her thoughts properly. She did not mean to confuse him, or to hurt him—though she could not be sure that she had done the latter. Not when his reactions were confusing in their own right.

"I don't mean to be critical about you or your job. You keep people safe and that's very admirable. But… if you could please just… maybe be a bit more understanding that all of this is so new to me, and I'm not going to like every aspect of what hiding means." She sighed, "Like the lying. You might be used to it and I'm not."

Nothing about Erik's countenance suggested that he would be so, and she tried again. "It has nothing to do with you, honestly. About people thinking we're together." She still wasn't completely sure why that mattered to him, but evidently it did. But Erik remained silent, and eventually she could think of no other assurances to offer, so she turned her attention back out the passenger window, hoping that he wouldn't be mad at her for long.

Erik knew he was being unfair, and in truth, he did not know why he could not simply accept her words and the difficulties she communicated. She had been acting strange all morning, upset and prone to tears, and like a fool he had pushed and cajoled, trying to ascertain the source of her unhappiness.

Evidently it was a much wiser course to allow her to speak only when she wished to, otherwise he might hear things he most definitely did not desire to.

It shouldn't matter that she didn't want him. No woman ever had, and yet for some reason he had yet to ponder, her rejection of him tasted bitter. He reached for his rather tepid coffee and took a sip, better for the lingering taste to come from slightly singed beans than Christine.

Things had been going so well. Christine had a naturally cheerful disposition, despite her reservations, and he found himself genuinely enjoying her company. She was easy to tease, and she seemed to welcome his conversation with pleasure. Yet today, everything confused him. She did not want to be alone, but she did not want him. She wanted to be safe, but was not willing to lie to become so.

He wanted to soothe his rankled temper with music, but could not bring himself to make a selection. What appealed to him now would likely disturb her, all harsh notes and discordant tones to reflect his mood.

For the first time, he was grateful they would reach their destination soon.

When he had asked her to select their new home, he had thought she would supply a specific location—perhaps some fanciful spot in Europe she had seen in a book, or a childish dream of a castle nestled in some forgotten hideaway. Instead she had been vague and rather unhelpful in his quest to please her, but he supposed the freedom she allotted was useful in its own right. She could not complain overmuch if she was displeased when she had not offered more guidance when it was asked of her.

The place he had in mind was certainly not lacking in water. Rain fell frequently, in case that was what she had meant, but there were also inlets from the ocean, as well as a rather quick drive to the full coast if that was what she preferred. Or he could find her a river, if spring water appealed to her more.

His desire to please her was a strange thing. He enjoyed her smiles in a detached sort of way. Frequently in his life he had looked for sources of beauty, and there was no mistaking that Christine qualified tenfold. The more he spoke with her, the more he began to realize how protected she had been from life's cruelties while her father lived. It created a sweetness and a naivety that, while at times endearing, made him concerned for her now that the man was long since dead. Any could take advantage, any could prey upon her good will, and harm her deeply in the process.

It was perhaps a blessing to her that he had decided to relocate with her person. He would keep her safe.

If only he could understand her better.

"Erik," Christine spoke, hesitation marring her voice. He sighed deeply and forced himself to relax and keep the tension from his own voice.

"Yes?"

"Could we maybe... stop somewhere?"

He wanted to tell her that they were very nearly to the city, but he had promised himself early in their travels that he would be compassionate and put her needs before his own sense of urgency. And he would also not embarrass her by forcing her to recount each reason for her requested stop. He knew what it was to have every privacy stripped from him, and he would not subject Christine to that same form of humiliation.

"Of course."

Erik hated the public restrooms they had to frequent. Thankfully he had to make use of them far less regularly than Christine, but he cringed a little whenever she went to use such facilities. He always tried to pick someplace that at least had a hope of being clean and private, discovering that coffee shops and chain restaurants had better offerings than gas stations. They also had the added benefits of being able to supply Christine with more nutritious meals than a convenience store. He would like to care for her in all areas, and do it properly.

"Are you staying here?" Christine asked tentatively, and he hated her unease, though he was uncertain how to mend it. He was unused to relationships, of how to move past discord. If someone irritated him, they were either dead soon after—which proved an admirable manner of dealing with said emotion—or he simply withdrew to his underground home, where silence and hours of musical expression helped to soothe him. There was no need for restoration or apologies, or anything that Christine might prefer.

"Yes," Erik affirmed, hoping that some time to himself would provide a clearer answer to his current dilemma.

Christine nodded and took her purse, disappearing into the cafe beyond.

He tried not to let his eyes linger as she walked, the soft leggings she wore settling about her curves most admirably.

It did not help that he now knew precisely what lay under said coverings, all milky skin and firm flesh. He should not have looked then either, as she burst from the bed and fled into the bathroom, but she held him captivated as she did so.

Beauty.

There was no other word for it.

He should have asked if she required more money before she left, and he groaned at his thoughtlessness.

He was distracted and disgruntled, and he knew not why. But he most certainly did not like it.

Erik made his way into the cafe, the morning lines not seeming to have dissipated as he wove through the many bodies to reach the little hallway that housed the restrooms. There was no sign of Christine, so he assumed she must be in the confines within, and he waited patiently until the door opened.

Only for a different woman to emerge.

She stared at him briefly, much as he did her, before she rolled her eyes and walked away. Not caring for propriety, Erik opened the door clearly marked solely for women and peered inside, hoping to find that there were multiple stalls.

There were not.

"Excuse me, but that's the ladies' room!"

Erik turned and glared at the woman chastising him, his jaw set firmly. "Congratulations, madam, you can read."

And with that, he stormed off, trying to see if perhaps he had merely passed her in line.

He had not.

He returned to the car, thinking perhaps he had missed her altogether in his haste and she would be there waiting for him.

She was not.

And with dread settling firm and tight in his belly, he knew one simple truth.

Christine was gone.

Sooo... Surprise! Who was expecting that? One little tiff and she's outta there! Run far, Christine, because a mad Erik is never fun... And methinks if asking about his family wasn't enough, this would certainly get his ire up!

Fingers crossed for me tomorrow. I'm braving the lines to go see Star Wars...