There you go - a teaser for my next story to wet your appetite. I hope you will enjoy it just as much as my previous ones and I am looking forward to your reviews...

This chapter is dedicated to my dear fellow author and reviewer You Are Love, who once asked me in a PM if E & C might do something that they usually only do at the end of my stories somewhere around the middle of "When We've Said Goodbye". Well... it's not gonna happen in that story, but I am fairly certain she was referring to something they do in this chapter.

Oh, and I still don't own anything or anybody... but then, neither do you! (sticks out tongue)

Chapter 1 - Realization

„You try my patience, make your choice!"

Christine shuddered. She looked at the two men in front of her: her childhood friend and fiancé Raoul was standing in the subterranean lake, tied to the portcullis, a noose around his neck, gasping for breath, his face already turning red, while the other one, the Phantom – no, she corrected herself, her Angel – was holding a rope in his hand, ready to tighten the noose around Raoul's neck, to end her fiancé's life.

Christine looked from one man to the other. Both were silently pleading with her, trying to force her decision, but somehow Christine had a feeling that she could not let either of them influence her. This was too important, this was the choice she had to make on her own, because whichever way she chose, she would be the one to live with the consequences. But was there really a choice?

Christine looked at the one that had been her angel for so many years, her confidant, her best friend, and her heart went out to him. What had happened to her kind, supportive, sensitive guardian, who understood music like no other and had always been there for her? What had turned him into this raving lunatic that threatened to kill another human being? She swallowed hard. "This is my fault," she suddenly realized. "He has been abused and shunned by society all his life because of his face, but when he started to befriend me, he hoped that I would be different, that since I already knew him as a person, I would be able to accept him, once he revealed himself to me. He has done so much for me and I… I have failed him so miserably."

She smiled. She knew what she had to do. There really was only one viable option for her, one choice, which would allow her to save both these men that were – or had at one point been – dear to her. She would save Raoul's life and her angel's soul, by preventing him from killing yet again. Resolutely she stepped into the lake and walked up to her former angel – her fallen angel, she corrected herself – smiling at him encouragingly. "Pitiful creature of darkness," she whispered, "what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone!"

"Yes," she nodded at him, "my answer is yes. I will stay with you." She looked into his eyes to make him understand that she was serious about it. She had finally made her choice. She knew that she owed it to him. He had been there for her when she had been alone after her father's death and had needed somebody to take care of her. Now she would be there for him, for now he needed her.

Her angel stared at her, and Christine blushed. His eyes… oh God, his eyes! She had never before noticed how beautiful they were, how expressive. There were so many emotions reflected in those orbs gazing at her. Incredulity, surprise, doubt… and at the very bottom of them… was that hope?

"He has his doubts about the sincerity of my promise," she thought. "I need to convince him." That's when his lips caught her eye. Bloated, yes, but also strangely appealing. Would it feel different from kissing Raoul, she wondered, or would it be the same? It did not really matter. She had just promised to stay with him, this was their engagement, and to show her poor, unloved angel that she truly meant it, she would seal it with a kiss.

Christine's hand reached for the deformed man's face, pulling it down, so that she could press her lips to his. For a split-second nothing happened. Her angel seemed frozen in shock at what she did, then his lips began to move against hers and something within Christine stirred. It felt as if she had a thousand butterflies in her stomach, humming and buzzing and batting their tiny wings. This was nothing like the kisses she had shared with Raoul, this was different, but in a good way.

Christine broke away for air and smiled at her angel. The look of incredulous wonder on his face warmed her heart. He had enjoyed their kiss as well. Encouraged by his obvious delight, she pulled him closer to her and kissed him again, her left hand caressing his deformed cheek. To her utter surprise the skin there was soft and pleasing to her touch and Christine decided that she could get used to kissing and holding her angel like that.

Finally he broke away from her, his expressive eyes full of emotions: love, incredible tenderness, awe, hope… and still some doubt. "Come," he finally said glumly, grasped her hand and pulled her with him. Christine followed him out of the lake and into his lair, till he stopped in front of the huge bird-shaped bed.

"Prove it," he told her, his eyes ablaze. "Be mine."

Christine's eyes widened. Surely he did not ask her to…? "What do you mean?" she asked nervously. "I promised to stay with you…" She did not dare look at the bed. He could not possibly expect her to get into this bed with him now and do certain unspeakable things that married couples had to do if they wanted children. She only had a vague idea what exactly that entailed, but as far as she knew, it involved nudity and the woman allowing the man to stick a certain part of his anatomy into her most private parts. Of course, when she had accepted Raoul's proposal, she had known that sooner or later she would have to submit to this "act", but she had hoped that Raoul would not push her when she did not feel ready for this yet. And now her angel expected her to do this very act with him, when they were not even properly married?

"I knew it." The incredible sadness of her angel's voice interrupted Christine's thoughts. "It was a lie. You do not want to go as far as that. A kiss the Vicomte may forgive, but that… he would not want a used woman…" His insane laughter echoed through the subterranean cavern. "A ploy," he sneered, "a subterfuge, to make me release the Vicomte and then you'd wait for a chance to run away, to leave me again…"

Christine trembled. She was letting him down again. And to be honest, she could not blame him for not trusting her. After how she had treated him ever since he had revealed himself to her after her debut performance in "Hannibal", it really would be utterly stupid of him to believe one single word she said.

"It's not what you think, Angel," Christine finally whispered shyly. "It's not that I don't want to be yours, it's just… I have never done this." She waved her hand towards the bed, blushing deeply. "I am nervous," she admitted.

Her obvious distress seemed to somewhat calm him, but his voice still oozed despair and hopelessness, when he spoke again. "Of course, if the handsome Vicomte asked you, you might be more inclined to accommodate his wishes," he accused her.

Christine closed her eyes. What could she say or do to make him understand that her reluctance had nothing to do with him, but with the act itself he was asking her to perform? Nothing, she realized. Nothing would convince him. His self-doubt and the conviction that nobody would ever love him, care for him in any way, shape or form were so deeply ingrained in his psyche, that nothing would convince him otherwise.

Christine summoned all her courage. She had promised to stay with him, be his wife. Sooner or later they would therefore do this anyway. Did it really matter when? Would it be less awkward three weeks from now?

"Yes," she finally whispered, trembling with fear of what she was agreeing to. "Let's do it. Make me yours."

Her angel looked at her, as if she had suddenly grown a second head. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. His eyes bright with love for her and full of hope that maybe she would learn one day to feel the same way about him.

Christine smiled. Whatever unpleasantness and awkwardness the next hour would bring, that look of cautious joy and love on his face was worth it. He looked younger, relaxed, and she felt all warm and fuzzy inside, knowing that she had caused his contentment.

"I am sure," she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his broad chest. She could feel his heartbeat, and when his hands came up to hold her in a tight embrace, Christine's nervousness was gone. She suddenly knew without any doubt that he would not hurt her, that he would make the experience as little embarrassing and awkward for her as possible, and all of a sudden she was glad it was him she was going to do this with, and not Raoul.

Once her angel's lips claimed hers in the most passionate kiss she had ever experienced, all thoughts of embarrassment and awkwardness dissipated, as she felt a tingling desire deep down in her belly, a need that only her angel could fulfill. She hungrily returned his kiss, submitted to his caresses and caressed him back. They avidly explored each other's bodies, shedding more and more items of clothing while doing so, until their need for each other was finally fulfilled in a joyous coupling of their bodies.

Xxxx

Afterwards, Christine lay in her angel's arms, smiling at him, gently caressing his deformed cheek. She did not care that they were both still naked. With him she did not feel shy. "This was marvelous," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I had no idea it could be like this."

Her angel gently brushed a few chocolate brown curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. "And do you not regret having given yourself to me? Would you not rather have wanted to do this with your Vicomte?" he asked softly. His madness was gone, he was much calmer and relaxed now, and his deformed face was glowing with love and tenderness for her.

Christine shook her head. "No," she said. "I am glad it was you. With Raoul it would not have been the same." Her voice was strong and serious. She meant every word she said. Never in a thousand years would she have been able to abandon herself so fully, to give herself so freely, if the man in bed with her had been Raoul. Because … because she did not love Raoul. Not in that way, at least. She beamed as realization hit her. "Because I love you," she admitted shyly, "not him."

"You love me?" he asked incredulously. "Me the faceless monster? How can that be? Nobody has ever loved me."

Christine snuggled up to him, pressing herself even closer to his lean body. "Yes, it is true," she said solemnly. "I did not know myself until…." She blushed. "When you kissed me," she finally decided. "When I kissed you, I already noticed that it was different from kissing Raoul, somehow more meaningful, but when I agreed to this and you kissed me, it hit me, that I had misunderstood my own heart, that it was you I truly wanted. I do love you, and I think I have always loved you. My feelings for you are so … different from those I have for Raoul, so much deeper and stronger. Oh Angel," she sighed, smiling happily at him.

"Erik," he corrected her, barely able to speak, since he was moved to tears by her confession. "My name is Erik."

"Erik." Christine liked it. It was a good, strong name, not too common in France, but very popular in her own home country of Sweden. "I love you, Erik."

Erik's face lit up at those words. He had long ago given up all hope of ever hearing these words from anybody, let alone his beloved Christine. The sound of his own name being pronounced by her sweet lips was intoxicating. He sat up and reached under the pillow on his side of the bed, pulling forth a tiny box. He opened it, took out a plain gold band with a single diamond and slipped it on Christine's finger.

"We need to get married as soon as possible," he told her, "after what we just did…." He looked at her apologetically. "I should never have asked this of you before we were married."

Christine smiled. She liked the tasteful, unassuming ring he had just given her. "I would love to be your wife, Erik," she said beaming. "And the ring you chose for me is stunning." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before she added, "and don't feel bad because of… this. Yes, I always thought I would wait until after my wedding and only do this with my husband, but I understand why you needed this proof of my sincerity, and I needed to show you that … that your face doesn't matter. We both needed this experience in order to rebuild our trust that I had destroyed so frivolously. And since we are getting married anyway…"

Their lips met again and for a few moments they forgot everything other than their love and newfound happiness. Then, all of a sudden, Erik pulled away from Christine and sat up straight.

"Quick," he said, "get dressed. We need to leave."

Christine stared at him uncomprehendingly. "What is the matter, Erik?" she asked, trying to pull him back to her side.

"A mob is approaching," Erik explained. Thanks to his superior hearing he had already perceived the sounds of the approaching crowd. "We are no longer safe here."

He picked up Christine's discarded clothes and shoved them into her hands, then stepped into his own trousers. Christine now heard faint noise coming from a distance as well. She panicked. The people approaching sounded anything but friendly. She quickly put on her clothes, then followed Erik to the shore of the lake.

"You go with him," Erik said, pointing at Raoul, who was still tied to the portcullis. "You will be safer that way. You know Mme. Giry's little house in the suburbs? Good. Go there. She will let you stay till I can come for you, my love. It may not be safe for me to follow you there tonight, but tomorrow night at the latest, I will meet you there. Then we can go away together, get married and start a new life somewhere else."

Christine objected. She did not want to leave Erik, to let him face the mob alone, and she was not prepared to go with Raoul now that she knew she did not love him the way she loved Erik. "Please, Erik, let me go with you," she begged, but he was adamant. For her own safety she had to go with the Vicomte.

"I promise I will be careful," Erik said, kissing her once more. "Since now my life does not belong to me anymore, but to my beautiful bride, to whom I intend to return safe and sound."

Christine smiled bravely. The angry sound of the approaching mob scared her and she was not sure if Raoul would be able to keep her safe. She would feel much safer in Erik's presence, but she also understood that the Phantom was probably their main target, and that she would slow Erik down with that stupid wedding dress she was wearing. For his sake she would go with Raoul, so that she would not be a hindrance to his escape.

In the meantime, Erik had cut Raoul lose and instructed him, what to do. "Take her," he said, "Forget me, forget all of this." And then he added, "take the boat, swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in hell. Go now," he shouted, shoving Christine towards Raoul. "Go now and leave me!"

Raoul hugged Christine. "Little Lotte," he sighed. But Christine pushed him away, leading the way to the boat. "Quick," she told him. "We need to get away, or the mob…." Tears began streaming down her face. She was worried sick about Erik and prayed that he would be safe and meet her at Mme. Giry's home soon.

At the obvious display of Christine's fear, Raoul's protectiveness took over. "Don't worry, Little Lotte," he promised. "You are safe now. Nobody will harm you now, not the mob, not this…" He glared towards the lair, where Erik was smashing a huge mirror, behind which seemed to be a secret passageway.

Raoul frowned. A very disconcerting thought troubled him. What if…? Deftly poling the boat towards what he thought was the nearest exit, he watched Christine, who had turned around and was looking back to the murderer's lair. "He did not…," Raoul began uncertainly. This was a delicate subject and he was not quite sure how to tackle it. "The two of you were gone so long," he began again, his voice clouded with concern. "What happened? I hope he did not … force you? For, if he hurt you in any way, Little Lotte, I swear I'll make him pay."

Christine's cheeks turned red with anger. How could Raoul talk to her like that? Hadn't he heard her promise that she would stay with Erik as his wife and seen her kiss him? Did he not understand that this meant she was engaged to Erik now and that therefore whatever happened between her and Erik was none of his concern? And how could he assume Erik would ever physically force himself on her, or hurt her? "Yes, it's true," she thought, "he did not leave me much of a choice, but if I had said no, he would never have forced me. And turn it as I may, I gave myself freely."

She gave Raoul a scolding look. "Of course not," she said indignantly. "He would never hurt me. He gave me this ring, though," she added, trying to appease her childhood friend, "and he promised that we would get married soon."

Raoul stared at her. "Good thing then that the approaching mob changed his mind," he sneered. "Or else he might indeed have dragged you in front of the altar and forced you to marry him."

Christine smiled. "Nothing has changed his mind," she said dreamily. "Nor mine, for that matter. We are still going to get married. He just sent me with you, because he thought I would be less of a target for the mob that way. I am sorry, Raoul, that I had to break our engagement like that, without really telling you, and get into a new one so quickly, but I know now that it is him I love, and I am glad I found out before marrying you…"