Christine stared up at Raoul as he finished getting ready for the night at the opera. He had just finished tying his ascot, and she knew from habit he was about to brush his hair next.

She scurried over to the hairbrush and climbed onto the soft bristles. He noticed her there and picked her up with his thumb and one finger, depositing her in the middle of his dressing table and smiling down at her, amused by her antics. She loved to see him smile. He ran the brush through his hair as she watched, then straightened his jacket.

"There," he said. "All ready."

Her little heart beat faster. He had never forgotten to take her with him in the past, but even still in the back of her mind she worried that one day he might.

But not today - he held his hand out for her, and she climbed onto it. He put her safely into the breast pocket of his jacket and went to join Philippe in the waiting carriage.

Halfway through the carriage ride, during a lull in the conversation, she stuck her face out of the pocket. Philippe happened to glance over and noticed. She squeaked at him, and he narrowed his eyes at her, but that was okay. That was just how Philippe smiled, she thought. Philippe looked away and said nothing.

She looked out at the big world going by the window, marveling at what she saw there. She thought about how lucky she was to be in the care of people who loved opera and ballet so much that they never missed a performance. It had been a month since her ordeal in the dollhouse, and just like she had been ever since she had worked out an agreement with Erik, she was looking forward to her time spent at the Populaire.

Erik stared down at the crowds of people making their way into the opera house for the show tonight. There was one person is particular he was hoping to see. From his position where he was sitting on the chandelier, he had a good view of everyone who was coming in. In the effort to better spot the boy who would be escorting her here, he had forgone his mask altogether so that he might have a wider range of vision. She never seemed to mind, anyway.

At last he saw them enter. His ears perked up and he climbed up the chandelier chain to the hole in the ceiling, running fast down the secret tunnels he used, knowing he would be there on time, but worrying about being late even still. He had spent his time counting down the moments until he would see her again ever since she had left a few days ago.

Once inside the opera house, Christine climbed out of Raoul's pocket and up onto his shoulder. She kept a sharp eye out for the hallway she was supposed to meet Erik in.

As they came closer to it, she stood up on her hind legs and whistled. Raoul was expecting this - she had done the same thing each time they'd pass this hallway, and just like before he turned and went down the hall. He reached up to let her climb into his hand, and just like every time before, he lowered his hand to ground and she jumped off.

His brow furrowed a little. He didn't know where she went or why she wanted to go down this hall all by herself, but he knew from experience she wouldn't give him a moment's peace until he let her go - she had put up quite a fuss the very first time he'd walked on past the hallway, whistling through her teeth and squealing and reaching her little paws towards it. He had taken her down the hall, puzzled, only to grow more baffled as she tried to get down, and then frightened as she ran from him. She had darted away so quickly that he couldn't catch her, and he had forlornly visited that hallway again after the performance, but she hadn't been there. He had come back to hallway before leaving after the next performance several days later, and to his utter shock Christine had been there, waiting for him.

It had become a habit for them now - he'd take her to the hallway and let her go before the show started, and she would stay at the Populaire until he came back to watch the following performance days later, when he would then take her back to the de Chagny mansion until the cycle would repeat again.

"And you'll come back to me, won't you?" he asked softly as she scampered away. She had always come back to him so far, but still, he worried.

She paused when she heard his words, turning back and approaching him. His hand was still stretched out to her, and when she was close enough to do so, she stood up and kissed one of his fingers before running off, going behind a pedestal. He quickly stood and went to look behind it, but discovered only a small hole in the wall and no sign of Christine. He ran a hand through his hair.

"See you in a few days, then, I suppose."

There was a spring in her step as she traveled inside the walls to get to her dressing room and meet her Angel once more - besides the joy of seeing Erik again, there was something else that made tonight a special occasion, too.

Raoul settled into his seat next to his brother, who glance at him and frowned.

"What's got you looking so forlorn?" he whispered to him, but Raoul only shrugged in response because he knew Philippe wouldn't understand.

Philippe raised an eyebrow. Perhaps it was about a chorus girl or some other young lady who would be performing tonight. His little brother had the look of unrequited love, that much was certain.

"Christine," breathed Erik, surprised as always that she had returned to him.

She beamed up at him when she found him in her dressing room.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

"Of course, Angel!"

"And no Carlotta to step on you tonight," he chuckled, and stretched out a gloved paw to her.

She put her little hand in his, and let him lead her deep inside the walls to one of the lower cellars.

Her debut on a different stage was about to begin.

She wasn't entirely certain about the dress Erik had gifted her, but she trusted his judgment, and even if she wasn't sold on the idea of why she should wear one to begin with, she did have to admit it was a beautiful dress, a fluffy skirt sparkling with little crystals and puffy sleeves that hung down around her shoulders.

Once dressed, she climbed up on top of the old barrel, waiting for Erik to finish lighting the candles that illuminated where she stood. He moved so stealthily that he only appeared as a shadow that left little flames in its wake. She looked out to her audience, a slowly growing crowd of about three dozen rats who also lived in the opera house, and a small handful of mice in one of the corners. She smiled at them all. At last Erik began to hum, and that was her cue to begin singing.

Erik regretted that it had to be this way, that she couldn't sing up on the stage with all of the humans, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe the world simply wasn't ready for such talent, such perfection! Let everyone down here get a glimpse of the majestic star he knew she was going to be, and then when the legend of her had spread, then maybe that pitiful excuse Carlotta would be fired so that Christine could take her place. Erik saw absolutely no reason why this shouldn't work. None.

He hid in the shadow, humming an ethereal tune as she sang so beautifully, and the wonder of her nearly made his throat close up.

The other rats and mice marveled at her, unused to hearing something so lovely. When she finished her first song they all stamped their feet to clap for her and squeaked and peeped, overjoyed to have witnessed her song. She did a curtesy and began to sing another one, and then another one, and went on to sing five more that evening.

At last she threw her arms up, her cadenza lingering in the air all around them, and all the candles went out in a mysterious puff. The rats and mice stared, mystified, and the next thing they knew there was an ominous, yet proud, Voice echoing from every direction.

"Christine Daaé, prima donna of the Opera Populaire, will be performing tomorrow evening at this same time and place. Please tell your families and acquaintances and come enjoy the performance!"

A loud cheer went up from the crowd as they clamored for more of the beautiful tiny singer, but she had already left.

She could still hear them, of course, basking in the glow of their applause as she lingered there in the secret tunnel with Erik. She put her hands up to her face, beyond pleased with how the evening had gone.

"Oh, Erik!" she sighed. "It was a dream come true!"

"You were magnificent, my dear," he said adoringly.

"I couldn't have hoped for a better performance!"

Erik looked down at his shoes. She deserved a grand stage, far better than a barrel. She deserved the very Populaire itself!

"Christine was... happy, with her stage?"

"Oh yes!" she nodded eagerly. "Very happy."

The barrel hadn't been the grand stage of the Populaire, but she was a very small mouse and the barrel was still very big to her.

Erik fiddled with his tail, too shy to meet her eye.

"And Christine is happy with- with her Erik, too?"

"Yes, very, very happy!" she smiled warmly. "Are we going to go home now?"

Home! How his heart soared to hear that word from her sweet mouth!

He could only nod, his heart fluttering too much to form any words. Her trust was such a precious thing, her continued presence in his life a blessing beyond his wildest imagination. He worked hard to earn it, and he would gladly continue to do so.

The rest of their evening was spent quietly, domestically. Inside of his - their - dollhouse, they drank tea and ate a cookie and discussed the plans for the following night's performance.

The show on the main stage was long since over, and Philippe had spent over an hour in deep conversation with Sorelli, while Raoul had chatted lightly but not seriously with Meg. At last they had to leave, and as they departed, Raoul spared one last glance to the large building that somewhere inside held his little Christine. He would look for her when he came back, and he was certain he would find her. He sighed a little and silently wished her a pleasant evening.

It was pleasant indeed. Their tea and talk finished, he had kissed her on the forehead before she had gone to her bedroom and curled up in the soft doll bed he had prepared for her. Outside of the house, he played a gentle melody on the piano for her, the notes drifting in to her room and lulling her sweetly to sleep, a smile on her face and dreams of herself singing on the stage again forming in her mind.