This almost posted as a long string of code, but I caught it in time! And this is another one that should probably have been cut somewhere but... ah well. I doubt anyone will complain :)

Keep the reviews coming! I do so love to hear from you. And I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas! I know mine was.

ix

"Christine," Erik murmured softly, and she grumbled, opening one eye to glare at him for waking her.

"I'm sleeping," she unnecessarily informed him, ever mindful of how petulant she sounded. But she gave herself permission for her momentary childishness. When she'd gone to sleep, her cramps had been horrible things, making her long for the comfort of her own bed, her wonderful blankets, and the rest she could find there. But as she considered her condition now, she felt markedly improved. Apparently while mild, those little pills were effective.

"I am well aware of that," Erik answered dryly. "You seem to do little else." Her eyes flew open at that, and she opened her mouth to offer an angry retort, but Erik continued before she could do so. "Excellent, you have rejoined the living. Would you care to notice that we are no longer moving?"

Christine sat up hurriedly. "We're not?"

Erik peered at her from the driver's seat. "Apparently I have kept you confined to the car for too long. You seem to have forgotten that such a thing is possible."

Christine smirked, realizing he was teasing her. She much preferred his little taunts to his genuine displeasure, and she hoped his good mood continued. "Is it safe to get out?"

"Yes," Erik confirmed. "But do not stray from where I can see you."

Normally such a warning would be most unwelcome—a nod to her days in girlhood when her actions and judgment were not to be trusted. But Christine remembered his earlier words, and she could not forget that his primary motivations were to keep her safe. And she could not bristle every time he reminded her of that fact.

No matter how she might wish to.

The air was cooler than she'd expected. It was late summer, and while her home had been almost oppressive at times with its heat and humid air, here there was a delicious breeze that swept over the water, crisp and tingling with salt. She'd never seen anything like it. Papa had always promised to take her to the ocean. But while they had lived comfortably, money was never exorbitant, and he'd never actually owned a car of his own to make a trip like this possible. But his intention had been there, which made Christine's request to Erik all the more poignant. Maybe then her papa would approve her relocation, at least for a time. She might have been forced to abandon the theatre they both loved, but as she stood, facing the vastness of the water and experienced the crashing of ever determined waves, she grew hopeful.

"Does it meet with your approval?"

Christine turned, managing to tear her eyes from the sight for a moment in order to give him a beaming smile. "It's beautiful." She blushed at the realization that she'd paid so little attention to their direction. "This is the Pacific, right?"

Erik gave her an incredulous glance, before he gave a single nod of confirmation. "We are at the western coast, yes."

"What made you pick west?"

East was a bit closer, with New York and the theatres there providing some hope that she could find a similar job to the one she already possessed. Even now, she worried at her ability to find work—but she supposed that anyone could start waiting tables; it was simply a matter of learning how to do it properly. And she did not want to impose on Erik and his resources for too much longer, regardless of how he assured her that it was all acceptable.

Christine shivered at a particularly persistent nip in the air, and Erik frowned at her. "You are cold."

She shrugged, not wishing to lie with denial, but unwilling to do anything about it either. She saw a bench a few yards away, and remembering Erik's earlier pronouncement, she determined it was close enough that he wouldn't worry.

She had taken to going barefoot in the car, abandoning her flats in favor of having the comfort of no shoes at all, but she had grabbed this pair from the back before she'd allowed Erik to help her from the SUV. As she stepped forward, however, she noted that the path in front of her was more rock and sand than smooth pavement, and after she nearly slipped from her shoe protesting the terrain, she plucked both from her feet and carried them as she progressed toward the bench.

She enjoyed the quiet. It surprised her a little that such a beautiful place seemed practically deserted, only a few joggers and a man with his dog interrupting her view of the ocean and horizon.

Christine startled when something was placed about her shoulders, and belatedly she recognized it as her thick sweater she had taken to wearing to bed to cover up her nighties from Erik's view.

Which meant he had rifled through her suitcase.

She tried to muster up any feeling of annoyance for him having done so, but it was so beautiful about them, and she was grateful for the warmth it would provide. "Thank you," she told him as she pushed her arms through the sleeves.

Erik walked around the side of the bench, halting for a moment as he took in the state of her feet. "I see your shoes prove no more desirable out of the car than they do on the inside. I wonder why you own them at all."

Christine patted the bench beside her, partly because she desired the company and partly because she feared he would continue to stare at her uncovered feet, willing them into being covered by the force of his gaze alone. "Sit with me."

Erik hesitated briefly before he complied, his long legs stretched out before him. "What are we looking at?"

Christine gaped at him briefly, before she shook her head. Could such beauty truly become commonplace simply through continued exposure? She hoped not.

"We're appreciating the day, and the magnificence of the Pacific." She gave him a teasing glance. "And, one of us is enjoying the feeling of sand between her toes."

Erik scoffed slightly at that, scowling at her bare feet. "You will require a tetanus shot. And that is something that I do not carry with me."

Christine rolled her eyes, but did see some logic in being careful. She didn't want to end up with bloody feet and an infection just because she was choosing to enjoy this moment. "I promise to sit right here and not step on anything sharp. And then if it bothers you that much, you can carry me back to the car."

She had not meant it. Not in the least bit. She would evaluate the walkway for anything that looked dangerous, and at most she would have accepted his arm to steady her if her shoes decided to be uncooperative again.

But as Erik looked at her, a very satisfied glint came into his eyes, and she realized that he took that as a genuine offer to do so. Christine swallowed, and looked back out at the waves, trying to decide if any harm would come from allowing him to actually do it. She didn't want to lead him on, but she also did not want to read more into his intentions then he intended, and perhaps he was simply being amiable and playful.

She decided it would be much easier to enjoy him and his teases if she determined only to address the issue directly if he became particularly forward. And so far he seemed more friendly than anything, and as long as he kept his temper and did not begrudge her if ever she said no...

The joggers moved on as did the man with his dog, and Christine suddenly felt very small as she sat there. She pictured slipping into the waves and being pulled into the depths, lost in a churning, unfeeling world of water and foreign animals, with no one to miss her when she was gone.

And suddenly she missed Meg terribly, and guilt prickled at her conscience for not having made more of an effort in their relationship.

They were friends at the theatre, though Meg was a dancer and Christine part of the chorus and their rehearsals did not always overlap. Meg had often urged Christine to come out with her, to be a bit more social and embrace the other girls, but Christine was hesitant and withdrawn, and she realized now how wrong that was.

She had only herself to blame for her loneliness. People had been there, willing and able to give her companionship, but she hadn't been ready.

And now she was alone.

"Do you think..." Christine cleared her throat, pushing away the tears that threatened. She'd had quite enough of crying. "Do you think it would be possible for me to call my friend? And just... talk to her? Say I'm sorry for disappearing for a while?"

She knew his answer even before he spoke. It didn't make it any less difficult to hear. "It is possible for traces to be put on the phones of those closest to you, just for this very reason. I am sorry."

Christine nodded, pulling her sweater a bit more tightly about her, more for comfort than because of the temperature. "She'll worry. I should have... I should've called before you came. Told her what was going on and that there was a possibility I'd have to leave. At least then she'd know."

Erik raised his hand, and for a brief moment she thought he would pat her shoulder, but then he dropped it again. She tried not to be disappointed. "Detective Nadir will doubtlessly inform her of the situation." There was something rather odd about the way he said that, a little too controlled, his tone too flat.

"He will? And he'll tell her that I'm being taken care of?"

Erik stared steadily toward the water beyond. "He is quite adequate at his job. You need not worry."

That didn't answer her question fully, but she did not press him anymore. These were gruff and seasoned policemen, and it shouldn't surprise her that they would not think to offer comfort along with the reality of a situation. Officer Grady had been thoughtful though, and maybe he would tag along and explain things better to Meg.

Christine smiled softly. They would make a sweet couple, if Meg would only realize she didn't have to snag one of the rich donors that frequented the theatre in order to be happy.

"What will we do now? Is there a safe-house nearby or something?"

Erik shook his head. "Not in this location. We'll have to look for suitable housing just like everybody else. In the meantime, we will stay at a hotel as we have been."

Christine sighed. "That sounds expensive."

Erik's eyes narrowed at her. "I have tried to express to you that you needn't fret on that subject. You will be well provided for. Have I yet to supply you with something you require?"

She thought briefly of her menstrual supplies stashed under her seat in the car. But that hadn't been his fault—not really. If she hadn't been so embarrassed by the entire subject, she could simply have asked him to stop at a drug store so she could have made her purchase. But it felt wrong to ask him to pay for all these things, and not for the first time she wished she had disregarded his order to leave her debit card behind.

"You've been very generous with everything," she assured him quietly, still feeling rotten about the whole thing. "But I feel like a mooch and I think it'll stay that way until I get a job of my own and start taking care of some of these bills myself."

Erik stiffened beside her. "You are not responsible for any such thing. I will take care of it."

Christine closed her eyes, choosing not to argue. It was such a pretty day, and the last thing they needed was another disagreement. They would find a house and get settled, then she would bring up the subject of getting a job so she could start paying half of the expenses. Or at least paying for the things that were strictly for herself.

"I don't want us to fight, Erik. Not right now. Let's just enjoy the day."

She brought her feet up and rested her chin on her knees, and she continued to enjoy the salty breeze. But Erik did not relax, and he shifted often. Slightly annoyed that he proved such a distraction, she turned toward him. "Are you anxious to leave?"

"No," he assured her hastily, but he didn't seem entirely truthful.

Perhaps she should have been more obliging—he wasn't being paid to see to her every whim, but she also was not going to allow him to ruin her first experience with the ocean.

She stood and Erik was quick to follow, but instead of heading back toward the car, she walked determinedly toward the waves.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked, hastening to her side.

"I'm going to put my feet in the water. You might not want to follow." She looked pointedly down at his black shoes. Shiny and polished as they were, she did not think that the sand and water would be good for them.

"We discussed this; it is not safe for you to be walking without any coverings for your feet."

Christine huffed and stopped, forcing herself to tamp down her ire. Hormones. That's all it was. Normally she could tease and be light and carefree, dismissing his concerns with a well placed smile. But today it grated, and she didn't want it to. Not when his worry for her was so obviously sincere. She forced a lightness into her tone before she addressed him again. "Erik, I told you that I would let you carry me to the car if you wanted to. But I've always wanted to do this and I would appreciate if you could just... let me experience this. Please." She glanced down at his shoes again. "You could come with me. When was the last time you put your feet in the water?"

He looked so horrified at her question that she could not help but laugh. "That's what I thought."

And with that, she strode toward the water's edge, enjoying the tickle as the cold lapped against her toes, leaving behind wet sand and pebbles to mingle with her skin.

Christine found it all quite enchanting.

And did not at all expect when Erik was suddenly at her side, his pant legs carefully cuffed beneath his knees, his feet just as bare as hers.

And she smiled.

Erik had been certain that his mind had been lost to him when first he had decided to convince Christine to leave her home with him.

Yet now he was even more so.

He knew he had grown more indulgent of Christine than he had ever thought possible, but to do this, join her on the beach and expose his too-thin feet to the open air…

He had thought he was mad before, but she had driven him to near insanity.

That was the only possible explanation for why he had acquiesced to her suggestion of joining her in indulging in the seawater.

This beach held no great novelty to him. He had seen many, though perhaps this one had a few more rocks interrupting the endless sands than others of his acquaintance. But somehow, being here with Christine...

She made it different.

And so before he could chastise himself too thoroughly—to remind himself that to remove his shoes and step into the surf was far beneath his dignity, he did so.

And then when she smiled at him, her eyes so bright and full of mirth to suddenly find him beside her, he knew that whatever madness and insanity had taken hold of him was well worth the sacrifice, if only she would continue to look at him that way.

He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from how her beauty affected him. "How long must we do this?"

Christine laughed, walking a little deeper until the water soaked up to her ankles when the next wave hit. "Until my toes turn blue."

Erik's eyes narrowed, not at all in agreement that her appendages should have to protest so completely before he returned her to the comforts of the car. He was about to correct her when she took another step, and then another, and he suddenly grew nervous. "I hope you do not feel the need to immerse your entire person. It is my responsibility to protect you, but I do not relish the thought of a deep water rescue."

Christine turned back, her expression soft. "I wouldn't ask that of you, Erik. But it tickles my toes and I wanted to see if it always felt that way." She gestured him forward. "Come on, you're already wet, so you might as well join me."

Before he could inform his limbs that following was in poor taste; that he would await her on the bench they had vacated until she had returned to her senses, he found himself once more at her side.

"No further," he told her firmly, although he could still hear the slight tremor in his own voice.

Christine glanced up at him, her features suddenly marred by a frown. "Are you all right?" She looked back over the water, and her expression smoothed to one of sympathy. "Are you afraid of the water? Of drowning?"

Erik sniffed, wishing he could provide a more adamant refusal, but the clutching fear in his belly prevented it. "I had... a poor experience with water when I was young."

An understatement to be sure, but he would not subject her to knowledge of the abuses he suffered. He would paint her a happy fantasy of her protector—that he was strong and capable, that he could provide for her every need. She did not want to know of the times when he was young and helpless, when cruel hands had held his hideous head beneath the water until his lungs had burned for air, and he desperately struggled until at last he was released.

For years his world had been a thing of nightmares and pain, and it shamed him how long it had lasted. His freedom had come at great cost, he was not ignorant of that. But he did not like to dwell on it lest a great melancholy take hold that was usually only partially driven away by a few hours communing with his music. But he had forsaken his instruments, and that had been the most painful thing about his sudden departure. He could purchase more; of course he could. But he had crafted those with care. His beloved pipe organ with its resounding and powerful tones. His violin that had the power to make men weep with its mournful melodies.

Yet he had left it all.

For her.

So he would not have to cause her any physical unpleasantness.

He startled when her hand was suddenly on his, a gesture he supposed was meant to comfort. But he was unused to such things, and it felt strange and odd, and he could not help but tense. "I'm not a great swimmer, either. Papa would take me to the lake and try to teach me, but I'm afraid I wasn't a very good student." Her smile was a thin one. "I can doggy-paddle, and keep my head above the water, but when it comes to floating even..." She shrugged and squeezed his hand. "So we won't be going any deeper. Promise."

Erik had to swallow, his throat suddenly a dry and parched place, wondering at what this young woman was doing to him. He did not recognize the feelings she stirred him in, but they were not wholly unpleasant aside from the lingering ache that suddenly was in his heart.

Many nights he had lain awake, simply awaiting a time when he could announce that she had rested long enough. He felt rather pathetic for doing so, but he... enjoyed her. Her company.

And he had yet to determine if that was such a terrible thing.

But to his very great horror, he very nearly wanted to tell her the truth and correct her assumptions. That he had not nearly drowned because of a lack of skill—that if needed, he would be able to save her from her own poor abilities if she needed him. It was tempting to be sure. That perhaps, if he simply spoke of it aloud, some of those nightmares would be put to rest, should she look at him in that soft way, with kindness and sympathy that even he could not twist into some detestable form of pity.

He could not bring himself to extract his hand from hers, but eventually she released him, her cheeks suddenly red, though he could not be certain if it was from her lingering touch or because the wind was colder now that they were closer to the water.

Her feet were buried in the sand so he could not adequately judge the state of her toes, but Erik had experienced quite enough. When next she shivered, he ensured he had a firm grip on his shoes before he moved quickly, knocking her knees from under her with one arm while supporting her back with his other, striding confidently back to the car before he could chastise himself from doing so.

He grimaced at the sharp pebbles against his feet, and he cringed somewhat when he imagined the state of them when they returned to the vehicle. He had wipes in the glove compartment, and he would most assuredly be making use of them, for both himself and for Christine.

"Erik!" she yelped at the suddenness of the entire action. "I really can walk back myself!"

He knew she could. But she had given permission and it was too tempting an offer to refuse.

"I am well aware of the capabilities of your legs, Christine." And how they looked with only a short nightgown to cover them.

Even through her sweater, he could feel that she was cold, and with thoughts like those flitting through his mind, and with the current knowledge of how good she felt in his arms, it was most certainly time for them to leave.

A hotel held temporary appeal. A place to change and to wash properly. To command food be brought to their rooms with a mere telephone call.

But he needed to find her a home.

A true home.

One where she could be happy, and she would smile.

And maybe even, sometimes, it could be at him.

Sooo... looks like our Erik is actually a bit of a softie! Does that come as a surprise to anyone? Who's the big murdering lout now?

New story on the brain, probably furthered by thoughts of Star Wars. Sci-Fi/Fantasy is not my typical genre, though goodness knows after so many years watching it, it certainly should be. Get to brush up on all my alien races now! I admit it, I'm excited.

But for now, I hope you enjoyed this latest installment!