It had been a touch over a month before Erik had initiated a night of love with Christine. Not that he hadn't been tempted to do so well before then, but he'd thought to give Christine time to adjust to her new situation. He understood, all too well, what she had given up just to be with him.

Her family, her friends, her country.

Everything she'd ever known was thousands of miles away, and the Old World was entirely new to her. If the shift in location was not difficult enough, Christine had to adjust to the fact that being a part of Erik's life meant being a secondary parent to Nicole.

It had been a whirlwind of change, and Erik had shied away from adding to that pressure with his natural urges. Still, weeks of sleeping beside Christine but not with her had taken their toll. He wanted her, but more than that Erik wanted to show her what she meant to him. Words had a fickle way of failing him when it came to expressing deeper emotions; he was left with the physical realm, and could only hope it would be enough.

He had taken Christine to dinner and then, at her suggestion, a walk along the river near his loft. She was wearing a basic black dress, remarkable only for its open back. She'd told him the name of some high-end designer that made the dress, but what did Erik care about that when all he could think of was getting her out of it?

It had been a clear night, calm, as tranquil as a night can be in a city of the world.

Erik had taken her hands into his, kissed them. "You've made me so happy, coming back here to Paris. I know it must have been difficult for you to leave so much of yourself behind."

She'd stood on her toes then, pressing her lips against his. She tasted sweet, she tasted warm. Her bright eyes bore into his once their kiss was broken. Erik was not surprised to find his arms around her, drawing her against his body. She fit with him perfectly, his once-missing half. "I left a lot behind me, but I'm happier here than I ever was while I was in New York. This wasn't a sacrifice to be with you. I'm here because I choose to be."

Erik was the one to kiss her then, releasing the restraints he'd placed on himself since she'd arrived. His sensual presence came over her, greeting her desire and drawing on her arousal. "Christine." He breathed raggedly against her ear, biting lightly at her throat, smoothing urgent hands over the exposed burning skin at her back. "Come with me tonight."

She went with him, through the streets to the lobby, up the elevator, then through his loft, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

There was no time wasted, every moment had been savored.

Erik kissed her gently as he eased the straps of her dress lower, lower, until her breasts were exposed to his eyes and hands. The dress puddled at her bare feet and she stood before him, a Venus revealed in the swinging light of the Tower. He took her hands, kissed them, bringing her closer to him. Stumbling back slightly, Erik sat on the edge of his bed with Christine straddling his lap, her toes nearly touching the floor on either side of his legs.

It had been a silent torture for them both, to have been so close and so distant in the same moment. Their reunion was so fragile that they had both been terrified to see it shatter again from the force of their shared passion. His hands grazed her open thighs, though he did not reach for her center- he was more than eager to have her again, for his memories were strong, but Erik knew the importance of patience better than most men.

Christine's head leaned back as his lips and teeth traced her neck, she shivered delicately when his hands lifted to her breasts. Her own hands reached toward him, tugging his shirt free of the waist of his trousers, her fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons.

The voice of Erik's insecurity was silent. I have to do this, I know she will accept me as I am. She already has. I trust her. I love you, Christine.

Without breaking their contact, Erik rolled her beneath him onto the bed. Christine couldn't help herself, and she giggled, laughing not at him but at the both of them. What a story theirs was! It had taken them so many years, so much anguish simply to have this night. The thought was hysterical to Christine. She felt mad with happiness, and the crazed joy she felt swept over Erik when she found his lips with her own.

Seeming to forget everything, they laughed, holding each other.

Soon though, the laughter ended, and Christine lifted the mask from Erik's face. With great care, she set it aside and turned back to him. He allowed her to trace his scars, silently, with her fingertips. Erik held still, knowing that it was her right to examine him as thoroughly as would please her. In a way that he'd never known, he wanted to be seen, to be touched and analyzed. He'd never wanted to be seen before, but then, his future had never been so dependent on a woman.

Fingertips smoothed over the scars on his face. Erik looked down at her to find that Christine's express had changed, from giddy to serious. "Show me."

The plea was gentle, but Erik knew there was no way he could deny her now. Not now that she had changed so much in her life to be with him. Taking a deep breath, Erik moved back from her, until he was kneeling on the edge of the bed. He glanced down at the hands he'd lifted to the line of buttons down his shirt. They were scarred and differing in texture...but Christine welcomed it when he touched her. His face was nearly lost in the fire, but Christine had kissed him without hesitation.

He'd paused only for a moment to glance at her. Christine's face was eager, encouraging him. A thrill ran through his body, and Erik's fingers moved quickly to strip himself down before her eyes. His shirt was dropped to the floor, followed by his trousers. He watched as her eyes traveled over every shiny patch of grafted skin, every discolored, misshapen scar on his chest, upper arms and shoulders. He tried to remain calm under her scrutiny. It was difficult for him. No one had seen him like this, completely exposed, since he'd been released from the recovery hospital several months after the explosion had first occurred.

Christine rose off the bed and put her hands to his chest, allowing her hands the freedom to travel its expanse, to feel the soft ridges of scar tissue and the tense muscles just beneath the surface. It was still strange to him, having her so absorbed with what he'd hidden for so long. "Can you live with this?" He asked. The question was out before he had been able to stop himself.

At first he was afraid that Christine would become angry with him- the last thing he wanted, especially as her searching hands were moving lower and lower...

Christine looked up, into his eyes. "I can't live without you, Erik. I wouldn't have you any other way."

Her lips found his, and Erik felt his heart swell with a painful form of happiness that he knew he would have to become accustomed to, since he'd felt it every day since she had come back into his life. He twined his arms around her waist, suddenly feeling playful and eager once more. She could feel his lips smile against her own. "Then how will you have me, Christine?"

She pulled back and tried not to laugh at what he'd said. This was the Erik she remembered from that morning after they'd first become lovers in Paris. Playful, teasing and most of all, he was confident in her acceptance of him. She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. Christine reached for him, and quickly yanked Erik down onto the bed. Climbing atop him, Christine flashed the man a triumphant grin.

It was a look that Erik grew accustomed to in their following years together.

"Tell me again."

"Why? I've told you already."

"Tell me again."

Smiling, Erik leaned down to plant a kiss on the crown of his daughter's head. Nicole Adelle DeRoux had grown to be an impatient, manipulative, demanding little minx, all qualities that her mother was quick to assert came from Erik's side of the family. The girl's talent, intelligence, determination, beauty and caring heart all came from Elita, naturally.

He reached over and ruffled her hair, trying not to laugh as she frowned and tried to smooth the damage he'd done to her chocolate brown curls. "Tell me, please, about how it was the first time."

Erik nodded at the insistent eight year old, and thought back to the day when she was born. "Well, Elita had put David and I out of the room- she didn't want us to see her giving birth."

"Why?"

The honesty that the French had with their children was sometimes bizarre to Christine; when she'd been a child there were certain things that her father had never made mention of, though Elita and Erik would make such comments right in front of the family children. It was different, but also strangely freeing.

To Erik's amusement, Christine would often try to censor him, but she was not here to do so now.

"Your mother is very strong, but having a baby for the first time can be a scary thing for a woman. Really, I think she wanted you all to herself, she just didn't want to share with David or me. I can understand- you were her first joy in the world, Nici. She named you after her mother, who died before you were born."

"And your mother."

"Yes, that is where your first and middle names came from. Nicole, Adelle. And, because you are my daughter, you have my last name, DeRoux." Erik watched as the girl fingered the hem of her new skirt. He'd bought it for her, hoping she'd like it for her recent birthday. The girl was thinking over his words.

"I like our big family."

He nodded. "I do too. And it's going to be bigger. Your brothers first, and today, your little sister."

"I don't want her to have any of my names."

Ah, jealousy. Another trait she's inherited from her father. What am I going to do with this girl?

He took her hand and stroked the top of it. She was wearing the little sapphire ring he'd given to her on the day they'd learned she would be a big sister again. Her voice had been calm, but anxiety showed in the sweat of her palms. "She won't have your first or middle name, love, but she will have the last name DeRoux. You can share that, can't you?"

"Yes."

"Nicole, you know that just because there will be a new baby in the house doesn't mean that Christine or I will love you any less. A baby will only bring more love into the family. You'll always be our little girl, but now you'll also be a big sister." Erik said, wondering if his explanation made any sense to her.

"It was different with Charles and James." She reminded him, sulkily.

"Why was it different?"

"The twins are David's and she'll be yours." Nicole said. Though young, the girl was far above average intellect, but her emotions were under strain at the moment, not her mind. She understood her family situation easily enough, having two parents of either gender, finding nothing wrong with it as she had never known anything else.

She loved all four of her parents, but from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other, Nicole had been what she knew the Americans called a "Daddy's girl." She loved her mother, but when her half-brothers had been born Nicole had not felt jealousy against them, only excitement and blind curiosity while Elita had been pregnant two years before. The twins were boys, after all, David's sons.

Now, though, an unseen rival had grown within Christine's womb. Another daughter to Erik, a man Nicole had no want to share with anyone, be it Christine, his work or this tiny new interloper.

Erik leaned down and hugged Nicole to him. "Nicole, I understand. But this is your sister-"

"Half-sister!"

"You sister. I know it will be hard for you to adjust, but this new baby isn't going anywhere. When we take her home from the hospital, she will be a part of our family, just like you were when Elita first brought you home to me. Christine and I will need you to be strong, and brave for your sister. I know she'll love you, she'll want to be just like you when she gets older, Nici."

The girl crossed her arms, still sulking. "I don't want her."

"It's too late, Nici. Your sister will be born today, and soon she'll be home with us. You'll love her when you see her."

"No I won't."

"You said that when Charles and James were born and you love them now." Erik reminded her.

"They're boys. I don't like other girls."

It was a fairly well-known cultural trait that French women were so competitive with other women that their aggression could border on silent hostility. He hadn't seen much of the trait in Elita, and Christine was an American- to see it in his daughter, against her own newborn sister was jarring.

"Nicole." He said firmly, becoming fed up with her stubbornness. "I know you don't like the idea of a sister, but she is not just an idea anymore. She is born today, alive, and a part of our family now. In time you will grow to love her, I know you will, but for now you will learn to be nice to her. I don't want to hear any mean comments or see any frowning faces. A birth is a thing to celebrate. Do you understand?"

It was rare that Erik had a need to become stern with her, but when he did, Nicole knew to obey. She sighed lightly and crossed her arms. "Yes."

Together, they waited for another hour before a doctor came forward to let them know that the birth had gone well, that mother and baby were fine, and free to visit.

The bulging swell of happiness he'd tried to suppress throughout the morning rose up to his chest, and Erik had to force himself to walk, rather than run to Christine and their newborn daughter. Quickly, Erik and Nicole reached the hospital room that housed his wife and baby. He glanced to Nicole. "Remember what I told you."

She nodded and followed him inside.

Christine was there, sitting up in the bed. Her face was flushed but she had been washed free of sweat; to Erik she looked luminous. Her smile lit the room. "Hey guys," she called, her voice high and friendly. She felt exhilarated, triumphant and filled with a crazed new energy.

Erik moved to her bedside. "Christine, how do you feel?"

"Exhausted. Happy. Go, Erik, she's right over there. The nurse said she had to rest, but they let me hold her already. Look at her cute little hat!"

Christine started giggling a little, and Erik couldn't help but to raise a brow at her. He wondered if maybe the drugs meant to dull the pain of giving birth hadn't reached her brain- he didn't remember Elita being so giddy when Nicole had been born. And speaking of Nicole...

Erik turned to find Nicole already looking down into the medical crib on the other side of Christine's bed. He leaned down to kiss Christine. "My beautiful girls."

She laughed then, and playfully swatted his arm. "Go see her, daddy."

He walked over to the roller crib and looked down at the new arrival. Like all newborns, this baby had red skin and a frowning face. She was wrapped in a light pink blanket, with a bright pink cap tucked over her head. She looked just as Nicole had when she'd been born, but then all newborns look alike. From the other side of the crib, Nicole looked up at him. "She's small."

Erik nodded. "Yes, this is the smallest she'll ever be. After this she'll only get bigger."

"Her face looks mean."

The man shrugged, and found he couldn't disagree. "Newborns can't smile yet. It takes time for them to learn. You looked just like her when you were born."

"Why won't she open her eyes?"

"She might be sleeping, or waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light."

"What color will her eyes be?"

"I don't know, maybe they'll be light like Christine's. Did you know that babies' eyes can change color?"

"I heard that in school. What about her name?"

He shrugged again, happy to simply watch the newborn sleep. "We still haven't decided, but we do have to name her before we leave the hospital. Do you want to help us?"

At once, Nicole's eyes lit up. "I can name her?"

"You can help, so long as it's not something crazy. Christine and I will choose her first name, but I'll leave her middle name to you. Pick something pretty, your little sister deserves a middle name as special as yours."

Nicole was silent then as she watched the baby.

"I heard that your little sister is coming home today."

Nicole looked up at her mother, and handed her the bowl of strawberries that she'd sliced in half. They were making a pie, at Nicole's insistence, to welcome home the latest addition to their family. Elita took the bowl and watched as Nicole began to sprinkle cinnamon and powdered sugar into the dough that would become the pie crust. She smiled, happy to see that her daughter had such a talent in baking. This was a trait she'd inherited from her mother, of course.

Elita treasured this time they had together, just the two of them, when David would take the boys out to the park or river to play with the toy boats they'd received on their last birthdays. Nicole was her only daughter, her first child, and she was growing up so quickly. Why, just the other day she'd been informed by Nicole's teacher that she had kissed a boy! Elita hadn't mentioned this news to Erik just yet since he was so busy with the new baby, but she knew that when he found out, Nicole's father would not be pleased.

While it was an exciting thing to Elita to learn that Nicole liked a boy, she imagined that Erik would be horrified. In France it was natural for children to experiment with kissing, but Erik had already declared that if he so much as heard a rumor that a boy had kissed Nicole, he'd be the first to send her to a convent. Elita rolled her eyes as she remembered his words. The man could be impossible sometimes, and she wondered what he stance would be once he learned that it had been Nicole to kiss the boy, and not the other way around.

The girl nodded. "They picked a name. She'll be Marie, but I get to pick her middle name."

"Christine told me that. You have to have the name chosen by today, did you already pick?"

Again, Nicole nodded. "Yes, but I want to wait until we get there."

Elita smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. "All right, well then let's get this finished. We can let it bake and then when it's cool we can go, how does that sound?"

"Good." Nicole swallowed her nerves before sharing her secret. "I kissed Michael at school."

The mother laughed at her daughter's blunt statement. Elita led Nicole to the living room as their baking pie filled the house with the sweet scent of strawberries and cinnamon. "Yes, your teacher already told me. Thank you for telling me, Nicole, I'm your mother. We can talk about everything. You know that. Also, thank you for telling me before telling your father." She said with a wink and a quick grin.

"I'll tell him today-"

"No!" Elita laughed, "No, Nicole, I think he'll be under enough stress just bringing the new baby home today. Maybe you should hold off on telling him for a little while, just until things are settled."

Nicole nodded, seeing the sense in being patient.

"Well, Nicole, have you thought of a middle name for Marie?"

It was only an hour later, back in the hospital where she'd been one week before. She stood there in the center of Christine's recovery room, her eyes on the bundled baby in her step-mother's arms. Nicole knew better than to say so, but she thought the baby looked like a tiny, prune-faced old man. Surely her sister would become prettier in time? She didn't know why, but she thought Christine looked very nice, maybe because she looked so happy. Erik was standing beside Christine, who was in a wheelchair. Nicole wondered if having the baby had hurt Christine's legs.

"I decided. Anne." She said simply.

"Anne? Marie Anne DeRoux. That's beautiful, don't you think?" Erik asked Christine.

She nodded. "I think it's perfect."

Erik smiled. "All right, I'll tell the nurse, and then we can make our way home." He slipped out of the room, leaving all his women together.

Christine glanced down at her new baby. The red, wrinkled little face, the frowning expression, the strange blue-gray eyes. Her daughter, Marie Anne. She smiled at Elita, and then turned her attention to Nicole. "I want to thank you for being a part of Marie's life like this. I know that you share something special with Erik I mean, with your father. You've been so good about this, Nicole, I know that you'll be a great big sister to her."

Nicole shrugged, somewhat uncomfortable with this open gratitude. "Well, I just wanted her to have a pretty name..."

Erik reentered the room. "All right, my lovely ladies, we are free to go."

Together the family left the hospital to begin a new chapter in their lives.

Author's Note: Ah, a happy ending! Maybe a little too sweet for my typical taste, but I couldn't help myself. I don't usually write about children or do epilogues, but I couldn't end the story on 44, that's just a funny number to end on, so I decided to wrap up the whole thing with a glimpse into their future. I hope you liked it!