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Forget Me Not	By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 12354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
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A/N the general descriptions of the Met Opera house are what I have gleaned from the few images on the net. If they are in any way incorrect, you will have to forgive my ignorance. Happy Holidays!

Dedicated to my dear friend Salome, a better friend is hard to find. Love ya girl!

Chapter 17
L'air Des Bijoux

After placing his jacket over the chair, he turned back to Christine. She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him hungrily on the lips. She drew back to look up into his eyes.

“All is forgiven then?” she asked.

“It always is,” he smiled wryly.

Christine removed his mask. “You do not have to wear this anymore, you are home,” she said gently, as she placed it on the fireside table.

Erik swallowed at her words. Home was truly where the heart was, he realised for the first time. He wrapped his arms around her and she sighed, resting her head and hands on the warmth of his chest, her fingers idly playing with the buttons of his shirt, before popping a couple and slipping her hand inside to touch his bare flesh.

Christine could smell the spice of his soap, the fragrance lingered on his skin. She breathed it in as her hand crept higher to touch a male nipple. She smiled in gratification as she heard his intake of breath and felt the flesh pucker beneath her fingers. She deftly undid the rest of his shirt buttons and parted the edges.

Her hands rested on the hard planes of his stomach for a moment, before she lowered her head and her tongue darted out to envelope the dark peak in her mouth. She suckled on it gently, unsure of his reaction. It was something she had never dared try with her husband; curiosity got the better of her. Everything with Erik was so sensual, the music, the lovemaking. The passion it evoked, spurred her on to new heights and sensations. Her teeth grazed the hard bud and he groaned.

Christine felt his hand on the back of her neck as he undid the numerous tiny buttons that held her gown together. She switched attentions to his other nipple, glancing up as she sensed the cooler air against the skin of her back. She reluctantly removed her mouth from his flesh and stepped back so that Erik could ease the gown from her shoulders. It fell to the floor and pooled around her feet. She stepped out of it, leaving it where it fell. Her hands moved to the fastening of her corset, only to have them removed and replaced by his hands.

“I want to undress you,”

Christine did not protest as his fingers neatly worked the lacings of her undergarments. She trembled, not from the cold, but the heat inside of her as his hand rested on the waistband of her drawers for but a moment, before he tugged at the cord that held them up. The material now loosened, he never broke eye contact with her as his hand disappeared beneath the cotton fabric. His hand touched her sex and she parted her thighs. Erik smiled a slow smile before his finger slipped inside her wet warmth. She struggled to draw breath as it made contact with her erect nub of flesh. Christine struggled to hold on to what coherent thoughts she still had, as she looked at him with concern and desire.

“Will it be fine for you to..?”

“Make love? My injury is healing well, would you leave me in such an agony of want for your touch?” he asked, removing his hand and pulling the drawers from her as she lifted her legs to aid him.

Christine shook her head. She wanted this reunion as much as he did. Her own hands were busy as she slipped the shirt from his shoulders, her fingers stroking the firm upper arms. They felt so strong and wonderful; Christine drew in a breath as the enormity of the moment washed over her, the realisation of how close they had come to losing each other. She would never be as foolish, as to risk what they had, ever again.

Christine reached up again to kiss his lips, his mouth opening up to her as their tongues entwined. Her knees almost buckling as he cupped her breast through the thin material of her chemise, torturing her in the same way she had done to him. Dampness spread between her legs at his ministrations and she unconsciously pressed herself against his already hardened body, he put a leg between hers to part them, pressing his still clothed erection against her softness.

She was surprised as he lifted her from the floor and carried her, halted as her back hit one of the bookcases. A couple of volumes fell to the floor as Christine wrapped her legs around his waist to bring them closer together. His hips thrust against her womanhood while his mouth plundered her neck, before moving lower, to her breast. His lips closed over the stiff peak, suckling it through the thin material. The barrier of their still remaining clothing was driving her almost to insanity.

She was gratified as Erik momentarily lifted his head to tear away the thin material, which covered her, to leave her naked to him. Only his pants remained. He stepped away to remove them, his hand on the fastenings. He was surprised as she did to him what he had done to her only a few minutes previously, the only difference, that as she slid to her knees, she unbuttoned him, and took the hard length in her hand. His need was already evident for her to see. Christine’s tongue flicked out to taste him, his hands bunched in her hair as she took him all the way in to her mouth, before drawing back again. She glanced up at him, still holding him inside her mouth. He groaned at the sight of her, almost angelic face as she took him to heaven with her lips and tongue.

With her other hand, she cupped him, he felt heavy and she shivered in anticipation of their joining. Christine felt a tightening in him and the gentle touch on her shoulder became firmer, which made her look up. His face was coated in a sheen of perspiration, his features altered with desire.

“Christine if you do not stop now…I…”

She continued to look at him, her eyes holding his attention, as her movements on his body did not slow. Erik gripped the bookcase behind her, as he watched her, unable to look away. He thrust gently as he felt his seed rising and spill onto her lips and into her mouth in hot, thick spurts. He cried out as he came repeatedly.

Christine tasted his saltiness on her lips, as she held him in her hand, still massaging his member. She got up from her kneeling position and kissed him hard on the mouth. Her curiosity satisfied, but her desire was not, as she still ached for him. He began to harden in her hands once more, and she smiled at her power over his body.

Erik scooped her up and lowered her to the rug, by the fire, positioning himself between her thighs. He teased her with his body as he pressed himself against her damp opening. He trailed kisses along her throat before reaching her ear and nibbling at the lobe.

“No one has ever done that for me ever…” he whispered against her ear.

“I have never done that for anyone either, before now,” she whispered back.

“Surely…Raoul?”

“No,” she replied.

Erik responded by surging into her body, making them one again. As he began to move inside her, she sighed, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Soon sensation took them both over. Erik planted his hands either side of her head to lift himself up and deepen the penetration. Christine wrapped her legs around him, making his passage easier. Tears rolled down her face as her walls started to clench around him as she climaxed. She watched as he took pleasure from her body, feeling her own responding again as he pounded into her. Their cries were mutual as they both came together, his warm seed filling her as she clung to him.

Their breathing slowed, and even the warmth of the fire could not keep the chill out as their damp skin cooled. Erik rolled off her, pulled a blanket off the arm of the chair, and covered them both. They lay side by side, and for a little neither one speaking, just content to be in each other’s embrace.

Christine’s mind was still troubled about the scene she had witnessed between him and Meg; she needed to know, to set her mind at ease. She knew she was being silly, but until it was resolved, it would always be there in the back of her mind.

“Erik…there is something I need to ask you about that night at five points,”

He looked down at her, as she lay in his arms. A slight frown marred his brow, but she ignored it. Christine opened her mouth to speak, the moment was lost as there was a knock on the door and someone tried the handle.

“Mr Erik? I have brought the tea,” said Patty through the door.

“Thank you Patty, could you leave it outside,”

Christine smiled as she heard the housekeeper muttering to herself as she walked off. She turned back to Erik, she could see that his mind was already on other things and she sighed regretfully.

“For your audition, I think you should sing L'air Des Bijoux,”

Christine looked up at him. “Faust?”

“It is to be the very first opera of the very first season. To perform something from it might make more of an impression. Marguerite is not a role that is unfamiliar to you,”

“Yes, but it is a long time since I sang it,”

Erik left her side, getting up to pull up his trousers. As he turned, his face twisted.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing, I am still a little tender that is all,”

“The maybe we shouldn’t have…so soon,”

He smiled. “It is a little late for that now, besides the pleasure far outweighed the pain. Now on to your music lessons, do you remember the words? I have the libretto if you do not,”

“I remember them. So, on this occasion I am allowed to use French?” she teased.

He nodded, and Christine sighed as her attempt at humour fell on deaf ears. Once his mind was on the music, it almost possessed him, leaving little room for anything else.

Erik walked over to the piano, pulling out the stool, before seating himself at it. Christine wrapped the blanket around her naked form, got up from the rug, and joined him by the piano. It seemed strange, both of them there, in various states of undress, but the informality of it warmed her. As much as she had loved her husband, he had never once forgotten who he was, or his station in life, and a scene such as this would have been unthinkable to him.

Christine pushed away her uncharitable thoughts. He had been a wonderful and loving husband…who had left her in penury. She was almost relieved as Erik began to play. She watched his fingers as they touched the keys turning her attention back to the task. Christine took an ample breath and began to sing.

“Ah! je ris de me voir, Si belle en ce miroir! Est-ce toi, Marguerite?”

Erik stopped playing abruptly. Christine looked at him in apprehension, the hard taskmaster who had brought her to greatness once before, was once again present in this room with her now.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, biting her lip nervously.

His hand rubbed at his forehead tiredly. "We are not going to leave this room until I am satisfied that we are making progress. I was moved by your performance in Meg’s apartment that night, but it reminds me that we still have so much to achieve before you are ready to face the world again. I can see that I have allowed a certain amount of emotional investment, cloud my judgement to your abilities or readiness,”

“It is not my fault that Raoul did not like to be reminded of my past on the stage. I had no opportunity for practise!” she pouted.

“Do not blame others for your own neglect. I have been to your husband’s home; there must have been some corner of that vast estate where you could have sung without being heard?”

Christine’s cheeks reddened and she stamped her foot in frustration like a petulant child. A slow smile lifted the corners of Erik’s mouth. He began to play once more. She had the feeling that he had purposefully goaded her to anger, she felt like refusing, but knew it was for her own benefit, even if some of his words had stung her, because she knew they were true.

“Now sing Madame, and this time hopefully there will be some feeling in it,”

“Ah! je ris de me voir, Si belle en ce miroir! Est-ce toi, Marguerite Réponds-moi, réponds vite! –Non! non! – ce n'est plus toi!”

He interrupted her singing once more. “Better! Now continue!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Six days later

The past few days had left Christine drained and tired. The only bright spots had been the nights spent in each other’s company in the parlour, and the moments of passion in his bed. Erik was every bit the hard taskmaster she remembered. The years had dulled the memory of it, but she had learned quickly.

Tomorrow morning would be the audition, and her nerves were stretched to breaking point, if she had to sing that damned Jewel song one more time, she was sure she would scream. However, today had turned out to be different. Erik had sent one of his abrupt notes from the Opera house, instructing her to dress for dinner, as he was taking her out. The thought of an outing raised her flagging spirits somewhat. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as the maid arranged her hair.

Meg sat on the edge of Christine’s bed, a dreamy look on her face.

“I wish someone would take me out to dine. Where is Erik taking you?” she asked.

“Some restaurant called Delmonico’s I think the note said. You could come with us Meg,” suggested Christine.

“Christine, I have no intention of being the three’s a crowd number in your party. Besides, you need some time away from here. Erik has worked you very hard this week. Mother will be here within a few days; maybe we can have some sort of celebration then,”

“Oh yes! I cannot wait to see Mother Giry again. Erik told me that you wished her not to know of your abduction. I will not breathe a word, you can rest assured on that matter,”

Meg smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you,"

“It is my fault, he was right…I could have continued to sing even without my husband’s knowledge,”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I do not know, but there was something about that night…the last time I saw Erik at the opera house…it was as if the music died inside of me. He is my muse Meg, without him there is no music,”

Meg smiled at Christine. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, you remind me of the Christine that I grew up with,”

Once the maid had finished arranging her hair, Christine voiced her thanks and dismissed her. She got up from the dresser and collected her purse and fan.

“Shall I do?” asked Christine.

Meg pretended to pass a critical eye over her. “Hmm, maybe…as long at the lights are not too bright in the restaurant, you will be fine,” She laughed at her friend’s serious expression. “You know you look beautiful!”

A firm, but impatient knock sounded at the door. Christine took a breath, which had nothing to do with the restrictions of her corset lacings.

“I know this will sound ridiculous, but I feel as nervous as a girl on her first date, not an experienced woman of almost thirty!”

“This is exactly what you both need, some normalcy,” Meg smiled. “Well as normal as its ever going to be with someone such as he. It is all well and good to have a grand passion between the sheets Christine, but the relationship is what takes the real effort,” Meg’s mouth twisted in amusement. “Here I am giving you advice on how to keep a man and I haven’t had too much success at that myself,” She got up from the bed, to answer the door. She opened the door and stepped back. A mischievous smile spread across her lips. “Your lady awaits,”

Erik and Christine’s eyes met across the space that separated them. Without malice, Meg knew that she might as well have been part of the furniture. She watched them leave, letting out a little wistful sigh as she walked over to the window and followed their progress to his closed carriage out on the street. From the way they had devoured each other with their eyes, Meg had a sneaking suspicion that the relationship outside of the bedroom was just as rock solid. It set her at ease, but left a dull ache in the region of her heart. Tom’s kindly weathered face came to her mind.

He was not the kind of man she normally fell for, but of late, he had often crept into her thoughts. Meg was left in no doubt that, Tom admired her, but felt reticent to return any affection so soon after Luc. Another failed love affair was the last thing she needed. Besides Maman would be arriving in a few days, it was one thing to conduct affairs under the privacy of your own roof, but it would be much harder to keep that kind of thing a secret from the watchful eyes of her parent.

She took her wrap from the adjoining room and left the room, as a sharp pang of loneliness took over her. Tom would be in the kitchen playing cards with Patty and the other servants. It was one of the things she liked about him, he was in a position of power, but thought himself no better than any other of Erik’s household.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as the carriage arrived outside Delmonico’s Christine knew it was every bit the special occasion that Erik had promised in his note. They were shown into the crowded dining room. The animated chatter slowly dwindled into silence at the appearance of the strange guest. Christine’s cheeks reddened in anger. She put her hand on Erik’s arm and led him proudly through the dining area as they followed the maître d'. He led them to a private dining area; a fine candlelit room was set with the finest china and silver. However, Christine saw none of it as she felt her earlier anger rising again.

“Why do we not have a table with all the other diners? Are we not good enough for the elite of this establishment?” She demanded.

The maître d' looked decidedly uncomfortable. “But Mr Devereux instructed that…”

Erik placed a bank note in the flustered man’s hand. “I will deal with this, if you would leave us for a moment. We would appreciate the wine, my usual and some water,”

The man nodded, took the money and left in almost indecent haste.

“Erik, I refuse to eat at this place, if you are not good enough for them…”

He smiled at her outrage of his supposed ill treatment.

“Christine, calm yourself. You must not strain your voice,” he said a little more firmly. “The man was only following my instructions. I asked for a private room for us. You thought he was ashamed to have us as his patrons?”

Christine’s cheeks reddened again as she realised her error. “You can hardly blame me. I saw how all those people looked down their noses at you as we entered the restaurant. I know that look well; I often endured it from Raoul’s relatives at social gatherings,”

“And we will have to endure it some more yet, ma petite. Get used to it, I have,” he added, a hard edge creeping into his voice. He walked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and seated Christine, before taking the place across from her. “You will have to endure a lot more, especially when word gets around that the freak in the mask has a female companion,”

“Erik!” she warned angrily, at his choice of words.

“I am sorry if I am a realist, I know what they call me. Remember I have a knack of observing my surroundings. It is what has kept me alive so far, my wits are all I have,”

“Not all you have,” she reminded him gently.

Christine was silent for a moment, lost in her own thoughts as his words sank in. He had reigned at the opera house, very little had gotten past his notice…Raoul…their secret engagement...the rooftop. It seemed at least he had become more tolerant of gossip. Those who offended him in the old days had a rumoured habit of meeting with accidents.

“My being here, it hasn’t made things any easier for you, has it?” She asked.

Erik frowned. “But it has. Before you came back into my life, it was something to be borne rather than lived. I can endure those stares and whispers all the easier because I have you by my side. The indifferent face I present to the outside world is just another mask I wear. Only you see the reality and I am not just talking about my unfortunate face. We all wear masks Christine, in our own way, but enough of this melancholy chatter. I brought you out here tonight to reward you for all your hard work these past few days,”

Christine smiled at him. They were the first real words of praise he had given her all week, and she had begun to fear that she was disappointing him in some way.

“Do you really think so?” she asked eagerly.

“I am not one to bestow unjustified praise,” he returned. He studied her countenance, his heart twisting in his breast as he witnessed the youthful enthusiasm on her face, so reminiscent of many years ago. For a moment, it erased the loneliness that had been his for so long.

She smiled at him, the warmth of it reaching her eyes and soothing the ache within his breast. He was surprised as she leaned over the table to kiss him briefly on the lips. “Thank you,” she said, seating herself back in her chair just as the waiter appeared with the wine and a carafe of water.

The man poured a little into a glass and Erik tested it, before nodding his acquiescence. The waiter filled his glass and was about to do the same for Christine, when Erik placed a hand over her glass.

“None for the lady, she has an audition tomorrow, we cannot risk the alcohol tainting her voice,”

Christine sighed. She would be glad when this cursed audition had taken place, her nerves were already red raw in dread of the next day, but at least her fate would be decided. A little sip of the wine would have calmed her, but she knew Erik was right, tomorrow she would need to give it her all if she were to make a good impression. There was at least the consolation that there was one activity she could engage in without fear of the ruination of her voice. A slow smile spread across her lips as she raised the glass of water to make a toast.

“To the night, let the morning take care of its self,”

They chinked glasses and she took a swallow of the tasteless water as she watched him savour the wine, enviously.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Next Morning

“Christine the ruby gown looks just fine. If you do not hurry, you will be late. I can hear Erik pacing outside in the hallway now. He will wear the floor tiles down with it!”

Christine pinched her cheeks in an attempt to bring some colour to them. She grabbed her drawstring purse and Meg followed her out of the door, they almost took the stairs at a run. Erik was waiting at the bottom stair, a scowl on his face as he looked pointedly at the gold watch from his waistcoat. He held out his arm to Christine and she took it, almost having to run to keep up with his long strides.

Tom and the carriage were waiting outside. The driver opened the door and took out the step, while Erik gave Christine his assistance to alight the vehicle. Tom and Meg joined them, sitting opposite on the comfortable seats. Erik banged on the roof with his silver-topped cane and they were off. Christine shivered, and it was nothing to do with the sharpness of the early morning.

Erik took one of her hands in his. It was icy to the touch.

“You did not wear your gloves,” he chided.

“There was not time,”

The journey to the Met was much too short for Christine’s liking. As the carriage pulled up outside the plain grey, almost utilitarian building, she was disappointed by its appearance. She quickly hid it, but not quickly enough for Erik. He smiled at her ironically.

“It’s not the Opera Populaire,” he stated. “However do not judge a book by its cover,”

The coach door was opened; Erik got out and helped Christine onto the sidewalk. She gazed up at the imposing building before he took her arm and led her into the entrance hall. The huge expanse of marble floors and sculptures that dotted the foyer was as grand as any that had been at the Opera house in Paris. A couple of the financiers were already gathered in the hall to greet them. Christine pasted a smile on her face and hoped her nerves would not betray the terror she felt at performing in public again, even to such a small audience.

Erik led her through to the auditorium and up the steps to the stage. Christine looked around her in awe. It was almost twice the size of the Opera Populaire. She did not want to think how many people it could seat. She was surprised to notice a full orchestra in the pit, only expecting a piano accompaniment and had a suspicion it had been Erik’s doing. Erik walked off the stage and she stood there, suddenly feeling very alone as she watched him seat himself with the other men.

“When you are ready Miss Daae…” said a portly gentlemen, in between puffs of his fat cigar.

Christine glanced nervously at Erik. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, to which she replied. The music started and Christine took some calming breaths and on her cue began to sing.

TBC
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Forget Me Not