Just a heads up that while this is a T rated story this chapter contains some sexual content. It is not by any means smutty or I would move this to an M rating but be aware this chapter does contain a small amount of mature content.

Also thank you kindly to those who have been reviewing!

"This is the place?" Erik asked, somewhat confused as the girl led him to an inn.

"Oui monsieur," She nodded. Having calmed down on the journey there, still in his arms she yawned.

'Good timing I suppose,' Erik thought to himself. He did not enjoy leaving the opera house without his full mask on, but given the late hour there were few people out tonight. Tipping his fedora low enough barely any passerby would notice the white porcelain he wore over half his face.

Being given the appropriate room he made his way up the stairwell. Just outside the door he knocked, not realising who would be on the other side of the door.

"About time!" Erik heard on the other side, the doorknob turning. His good brow raised at the familiarity of this voice. "We've been anxious for hours! Tell me you've found her-"

Mismatch coloured eyes met hazel as the two men glared at each other.

"YOU?!" Raoul and Erik shouted at each other in unison.

"Darling? What's going-" Christine asked, coming to the door and realised why her husband was suddenly so riled up.

"Unhand my daughter. Now." Raoul said through gritted teeth.

"Your daughter?" Erik asked, glancing down at Angelique, whom had since fallen asleep in his arms.

"If you've laid so much as a hand on her I swear I will-" The Vicomte's eyes wild with rage.

"Raoul! Please." Christine begged. "She looks well and also exhausted. Please don't wake her."

Gesturing with outstretched arms, Christine moved past her husband and took Angelique into her arms as Erik gestured for her to take the child.

"I want an explanation for this!" Raoul demanded.

"Shh! Please!" Christine scowled, indicating to Angelique. "I'm going to put her to bed. Please do try not to kill one another as I do so. BOTH of you."

While slightly surprised by Christine's sudden authoritative tone, the men complied and simply shot daggers at each other with their eyes.

Angelique stirred as Christine set her down on the bed.

"Maman?" The girl sleepily asked.

"Yes darling I'm here."

"Are you and papa angry at me?"

Caressing her dark curls, Christine shook her head. "Never sweetheart. We could never be upset with you. We were so scared when we saw you were gone darling!"

"What happened to the man in the mask?"

"Oh. Well, he had to go you see."

Angelique smiled, closing her eyes. "He's a nice man, he sang me the song like you do."

Christine smiled, "He's the one that sang it to me."

"Is..." Yawning again, Angelique leaned her head into the pillow, "Is he your friend?"

"I guess you could say he is. Off to bed Angelique, it's too far past your bedtime for all of these questions. We'll talk about this more tomorrow."

Closing the bedroom door, Christine rejoined the two men, Raoul now seated and Erik still standing with his arms crossed. The twinge of fear that she would return to the two strangling each other subsided.

"Maybe now you can explain why you had our child in your arms tonight?" Raoul sneered, "I should have known you'd come back to haunt us one day. Just as phantoms do."

"Raoul just-"

"Stop defending him Christine!" He exclaimed.

"Don't take that tone with her Vicomte," Erik growled. "I don't need a lasso to kill you boy."

"Both of you enough!" Christine stomped, startling both of them. "You each want answers. Fine, but can we not do this like civil adults?"

Raoul released a hard sigh, "Fine then, I'll be civil. Him I can't speak for."

"I know very well how to behave Christine. I apologize my dear." Erik said calmly, ignoring the Vicomte.

Christine began in asking Erik about his encounter with Angelique.

"Obviously I had no idea who her parents were." Erik explained. "I found her sobbing in my auditorium, never mind how she even managed to get in. And there was no available means to send her on her way by herself, so I took it upon myself. Do you think I enjoy leaving my home to escort lost children?"

"Come off it," Raoul glared at the masked man, "You won't take her from us. You planned all of this somehow."

With a confused scowl Erik shook his head. "What on earth would I want with your daughter exactly? Correct me if I'm wrong monsieur, but I was the one returning her to you."

"You mean you don't know?" The Vicomte asked, turning over at Christine. "All these years I've been terrified of this night and he didn't even know in the first place?"

Christine shook her head, "When would he have known? How could I say something about it when I thought he was dead?"

"When would I have known what?" Erik asked, becoming thoroughly annoyed and impatient with this one sided conversation.

Christine cleared her throat, "Erik..."

"Christine, you don't have to say anything." Raoul shook his head. "Please"

"He has a right to know. He's already seen her, he's going to figure out eventually."

Her gaze fell on Erik's.

"You..." She began. "You remember the nights we shared in your home under the opera house? Before I unmasked you."

A hand protectively going up to the porcelain concealing half his face, Erik nodded. His appearance as always being a tender nerve.

"Ten years ago, after you let us go I gave birth to Angelique a few short months after that. But the doctor told us there was no possible way she could have properly been born at that time unless she were conceived in the summer. The summer you brought me down to the house on the lake."

The realisation of what she was saying hit Erik like a splash of ice water down his back.

"Erik..." Christine stood in front of the masked man, "She is ten years old."

-1881-

Erik's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, absolutely frozen as she kissed him. His hands while not flailing twitched and trembled uncontrollably. Never before had he ever received a kiss-not even from his own mother-and especially had he never received one filled with such passion or dare he say desire.

He waited for her to pull away in repulse of her actions, that she made a mistake, but it never came. If anything, the girl craved more, craning her head and continuing to grace those pillowy lips with kisses.

The shock seemed to melt away, Erik's mismatch eyes falling closed leaning closer to the brunette. His once trembling hands went around her waist, Christine shimmied herself slightly to allow her arms to weave more comfortably around his neck.

"My angel..." The masked man mumbled against her petit lips before claiming her mouth once more.

Christine could feel a warmth seeping in her belly, and remembered gossip she'd heard among the older girls in the ballet. The passion, the need and desire, the heat they spoke of. All of this Christine could feel begin to stir and awaken in this moment.

The only thing that distracted her in this heated haze was the porcelain mask he wore, the cool material scraping against her cheek.

But reaching up to grasp the edge, she felt a palm immediately over hers.

"I'd rather you not Christine," Erik gasped, the fantasy fading away as he returned to reality.

"Why not?" Christine asked, more from curiosity than offence.

"I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't. We shouldn't have. I can't let you see." He seemed to babble in a panic.

Christine chewed on her lower lip, the fire ignited and burning in her craved more of the affection they had just shared. She wanted to know why he hid his face from her so, why such reluctance? But these questions were overpowered by the need she felt.

Feeling bold she asked, "What if you took it off and I couldn't see? We could turn out the lights, go someplace darker? It just hurts when I try to kiss you."

She leaned up to kiss him again. He pulled back just as their lips grazed each others.

"Christine, I'm afraid if we continue. If we do, I may not be able to hold myself back much longer." Erik said with warning. This was no sinister threat, he meant no malice or harm. But the spur of love and passion he felt welling inside him was a fire that he would not be able to extinguish if they went further from here.

But no louder than a whisper, Christine leaned up onto the tips of her toes up to his ear. Erik shuddered at the feeling of her warm, gentle breath against his ear.

"I don't want you to hold back anymore," The brunette herself was almost surprised at how wanton her tone was, just as Erik seemed to be upon the gasp she heard him emit.

The floodgates completely giving way, Erik let himself succumb. A hand around the girl's waist and the other around the back of her head, the masked man claimed her lips to his. His fingers intertwined through her mass of chestnut coloured curls, his kisses more ravenous and hungry hearing the melodic moan escape her throat.

He would allow her request to remove the mask and found themselves in the Louis Phillipe room. Neither knew whom had pulled whom towards the room but it was done. The room was immersed in darkness, the light of the oil lamps extinguished and non existent. Erik had no trouble seeing within the black mass, Christine's eyes however could not adjust as well as his could. In a quick gesture, so as she would barely noticed, Erik set his mask on the table adjacent, and continued to ravage her mouth with kisses free of any restraint.

The two figures sank into the cushioned sheets, Erik's hands wandered, exploring up along her bodice. Christine couldn't help the sharp intake of breath feeling his palm linger along her clothed breast, a wild side of her psyche aching for his hands to caress bare flesh.

Erik seemed to understand this desire when she guided his hand further along to trail around it. Leaning his forehead against hers, both of them shaky as if out of breath. His hands moved up along the buttons securing the back of her dress.

"May I?"

Christine felt her words caught in her throat, while unable to speak she nodded knowing he would see it. Unfastening the buttons one at a time, the brunette reached up to unfasten his bowtie and soon after peeling away the tailcoat jacket.

She couldn't see him, only just barely able to make out his slender frame, but unable to see his face at all. His touch set her ablaze with want and need.

She was undressed down to only her chemise, but Christine was the one sitting up to remove the thin garment. Erik's eyes were hungry with desire looking upon his angel, completely exposed and willingly succumb. The brunette had already made short work of his shirt and undoing the belt around his waist. Feeling brave enough to do so, Erik slipped out of his trousers and at last the two were intertwined, bare flesh on flesh.

While the masked recluse had not the privilege to indulge in the joys of the flesh, he was certainly not a novice to the action. But it was one thing to read books about the practice than it was to perform them.

He was rather clumsy at the start, and his stone heart trembled hearing his angel cry so. From what he was to understand, it usually hurt for a woman to be taken. But while Christine was pain stricken at the beginning, the pleasure seeping through her numbed the initial pain. The whimpering cry turned into a moan of ecstasy.

Applying a little more and more pressure, Erik's hips rocked them back and forth. They both were panting and feeling nearer to the precipice. It was when they shared a last and fiercely passionate kiss that Christine felt herself let go. Even in the darkness Christine could see shimmering stars reaching her climax. Erik let a low groan escape his throat feeling himself seep into her. Pulling apart from each other, they rolled back on the bed together. Both were drenched in sweat and short on breath they now heavily craved. It hardly surprised Erik that Christine fell into sleep so suddenly, the poor dear was exhausted.

It wasn't until the next morning when Christine awoke that she realized the other side of the bed was cold, lacking the companion she presumed she had slumbered with the night before. She was feeling giddy, albeit excited. Surely this must be love, truly. She had given herself to her angel and her heart sang with glee.

Putting her chemise back on over her head, Christine tiptoed out of the still dark room, finding the handle and making her way down to the parlour.

Erik was fully clothed, as if nothing had happened-surely she hadn't dreamt all of that. He was composing again on the monstrous instrument, a quill in his hand.

Studying his features-his eyes concentrated solely on his music-her gaze hovered over that mask. Erik was so reluctant for her to take it off and see him bare without it. Surely now, there were to be no secrets between them? What harm could it do really? But he would not be swayed to simply remove it if asked.

Who was that shape in the shadows?

Whose is that face in the mask?

But her quick hand removing his mask while he remained unaware was the beginning of their relationships downfall. In that moment as he shouted and cursed her for her actions, things were about to drastically change for master and pupil from that point on. The memories haunting her mind with the fear of his sudden fury and the recoil at the sight of his twisted and deformed face.

-Present-

Christine could hardly believe when she was told of the pregnancy. She had barely gained much additional weight in those months, and the back pain she experienced she associated with her dancing practices. And with the added stress of the Phantom forcing his opera on them all, not once had Christine had time to think that she being with child was ever a possibility. The night they shared together was distant in the back of her mind, too focused on Raoul's plan to catch the Phantom on Don Juan Triumphant's opening night.

When she was finally in the process of giving birth she and Raoul were originally thrilled, newly married and with a baby on the way. A new family, it seemed to be the perfect life. But the doctor told them otherwise.

She and Raoul had only consummated their marriage four months prior to Angelique's birth, the doctor informed the newlyweds that babies needed to be carried for nine months. While he explained there were rare exceptions to this, but most premature births were stillborn and did not survive or turn out healthy. This lead the physician to ask if she had shared her bed with anyone prior to their wedding night.

She only knew of one other, and so Christine had no choice but to tell Raoul.

And at this moment Erik wore the same startled expression her husband had that night.

So this chapter was the 'Beneath a Moonless Sky' of the story, but rather than taking place the night before Christine and Raoul's wedding takes place during the events of Phantom after 'Music of the Night' but before 'Stranger Than You Dreamt It'. As the story fast forwards 6 months later by Act II of Poto this would mean by the end of the original story Christine in this case would be 6 months out of 9 along in her pregnancy. While obviously most pregnancies have physical signs, some births even today can happen with next to no symptoms. Some women have given birth lacking a large belly or not experiencing morning sickness or back pain which for the sake of this story is Christine's case.