A Defensive Situation
Part 12
Erik sat glumly at his desk, playing with his model opera house. It had been two days since he'd come back. Suddenly, as if by some unknown power from above, he had realised that Christine wasn't going to choose him. So he'd left before he could hear her say it. That would just be rubbing salt into the wound.
He sighed and picked up the little model of himself.
"Take a word of advice from me. Women are trouble. Just avoid them if at all possible. Especially the pretty singing ones." He said sadly. He glanced over at the Christine model and showed it to the Erik model.
"Sure, she's hot. She sings amazingly. And, yes, she'll even kiss you. Twice, if you can believe it. But then she just runs off to her happily-ever-after ending with a fop. I know – a fop. And then she leaves you to rot in the cellar with no one but a Persian and Buffy for company."
He sighed, resting his head on his hands.
"You're better off just not falling love, because it just screws things up. For everyone. Including her." He glanced at the smiling Christine model. "Because we want her happy, remember? That's the important thing."
Erik put the models back and sighed for a third time. Buffy would be starting in a moment, but he just couldn't work up the enthusiasm he used to have for it. He stared at the models again and, after looking around to make sure no one was watching, picked up the Erik and Christine models.
"I love you, Christine!" He said in a deep voice, moving the Erik model. He wiggled the Christine one around.
"I love you too, Erik! Come here and let me kiss you. Mwah, mwah, mwah." He made smooching sounds, pressing the figures together.
"What the hell are you doing?" Said an incredulous voice.
Erik swore, dropped the models, banged his legs on the table as he jumped in shock and fell sideways off his chair. From the doorway, Christine watched curiously. He stared at her from the floor.
"Christine?" She moved forward and helped him up. He brushed himself off and gazed at her. "What are you doing here? Where's the fop?"
"Raoul is at his house, I assume. Are you OK?" She said vaguely. "You banged your legs."
Erik didn't reply. He turned, straightened his chair and sat in it again, looking determinedly away from her.
"Your things are packed. They're in your room." He said quietly. Christine lifted an eyebrow.
"What are you talking about? Erik, why did you run off like that?"
He looked up at her crossly.
"Did you really think that I wanted to hang around whilst you let the fop drool over you? No, I was getting out of there ASAP."
"You didn't even hear my decision."
"Kinda the point." Erik muttered, wandering over to the television and setting it on Buffy. Christine stared after him.
"Erik-"
"Buffy is on." He said pointedly.
Christine folded her arms crossly.
"Fine. If you want me to go, I'll go."
"That would be nice." He muttered sullenly. She glared at him.
"You're so… petty."
He didn't reply, glaring at the screen. Christine went to her bedroom and slammed the door shut as she fetched her things together. A moment later she emerged with her suitcase. She glanced over at Erik and strode past.
"Fop-boy didn't come to help?" Erik sneered. Christine glowered at him.
"No, Raoul did not come. I'm sick of your mood swings Erik. I'm going to Meg's. At least she listens to me."
"Why Meg's? Why not just go to your fop-house?"
Christine threw her suitcase down, glaring at him and shouted,
"Because I don't live with Raoul anymore, Erik! Where do you think I've been for the past two days? I've been moving my stuff to Meg's house and filing for a divorce, you cretin! And I DID come here to tell you that I think we should give it a try but if you're not willing to listen to me, you can just bugger off!"
She seized her suitcase and marched towards the door. Erik gaped after her and jumped out of his chair.
"Wait! What was that?"
"You heard. But you're being so immature, I'm not sure I want to stay anymore." Christine said haughtily. Erik blinked.
"You… you…"
"Yes, Erik." She said quietly.
They gazed at each other and slowly began to move towards each other. Until the doorbell interrupted them.
"Pizza delivery for Mr O.G. Phantom!" A cheerful voice called. Erik ripped the door open to reveal a girl in a brightly coloured uniform that clashed terribly with her ginger hair. She smiled brightly.
"Hi there! My name's Kirstie and I'm delivering a large pizza with pepperoni, cheese and pineapple."
"I didn't order a pizza." He said, puzzled. Kirstie's smile widened.
"It comes with a note!"
She cleared her throat and began to read a message.
To Erik the Phantom
Hope everything sorts itself out. Everyone at the E/C Shippers United are rooting for you! And here's a gift to remember us by. Feel welcome to call in at any time. Enjoy the pizza!
From George and Donald.
"There's also this." Kirstie said, holding up a small pink teddy bear, wearing a mask.
"Mrs Punjab!" Erik cried joyfully, snatching the bear and hugging it. Christine cleared her throat pointedly.
"Well, thank you for the pizza." She said, pushing Kirstie back through the door and closing it before the delivery girl could object. Erik blinked.
"That was rather rude."
"Erik-"
"Where's Mr Punjab? I want him to meet Mrs Punjab."
"I-"
"Should I write George and Donald a thank you note?"
"ERIK!"
He looked at her. She was fuming, eyes narrowed. He swallowed and took a step back.
"Pizza? I'll take the pineapple off." He offered nervously. Christine stared at him and then sighed.
"Erik? Put the pizza down."
He did so, placing Mrs Punjab next to it. Christine took a deep breath.
"OK, Erik, here's the deal. I want to stay here and give us a shot. But I've got a few conditions."
"Let's hear them."
"No more phanfiction. No more being mean about Raoul, who will be visiting. And no waking me up in the middle of the night with songs."
"Deal." Erik said.
"And…" She said. Erik winced, waiting. "And you're going to have to explain this to Dennis. She's coming for tea and she's bringing smartie cookies."
"Ooh, cookies!"
Christine nodded and then smiled.
"So we're settled?"
"Absolutely." Erika greed and stepped towards her, intending to kiss her. But she put a finger to his lips.
"Oh, and one last thing?"
"Yes?"
"If you ever try to act out romances between us using that opera house I will recreate the disaster from upstairs. Arson will have a new meaning." She warned. Erik shrugged.
"OK. That's fair."
And he kissed her.
The story doesn't end there. Well, it sort of does. But there are a few things that need clearing up with the other characters.
Nadir retired from being Erik's errand boy. He demanded a pension from Erik, bought a charming house just outside of Paris and played squash once a week with Madame Giry. This did NOT inevitably lead to them falling in love.
Meg earned herself a position as a secret ninja for the government. She called in at the cellar once a week for tea with Erik and Christine, as well as visiting her mother. Madame Giry had been horrified that Meg did not want to be a ballerina, but had forgiven her eventually. Meg also made sure to visit Raoul. They had bonded during their captivity. And no, not in a sexual way. Nor did they ever get together.
Raoul took the divorce rather well, deciding that it was simply easier to avoid phans if he made sure that she stayed with Erik. He also went to tea occasionally and struck up a friendship with Dennis from the Friends-of-the-Fop society. This DID lead to a relationship and the last I heard, they were planning to make a movie about the kidnapping and use the profits to go on holiday.
Donald discovered that Erik and Christine had gotten together and was delighted. She and George got married and went on to create a new generation of E/C shippers.
Erik and Christine didn't quite live happily ever after. They were happy, but had many arguments, many revolving around whether Buffy should be with Spike or Angel. But generally, they got along very well. With the help of many pineapples, cookies, milk and bottles of Nytol.
So the story didn't end there.
It ended here.
Thank you for sticking with it this long. You may now choose from the below options. You may choose to:
A – Hunt and kill the author for wasting an hour if your life which will not be returned.
B – Leave a review.
C – Leave a threatening review.
D – Send a threatening review that will inevitably have the words "a disaster beyond your imagination will occur."
E – Bang your head against the computer screen until all memories of this story have been erased from your brain.
Please choose an option now.
Bonus Section
Dear Mademoiselle Kat097 a.k.a Katie
I recently discovered a story under your name on titled 'A Defensive Situation'. I would like to inform you that unless you make the following changes, I shall be forced to Punjab you for crimes against the Phantom of the Opera.
Raoul de Chagny will be killed by my hand. Either by sword or hanging, you may choose. Christine will NOT be forced to treat me like a child. You will rewrite all sections containing information about myself so that I am not made out to be a pathetic excuse for a human being, but rather a mysterious and powerful presence in the world.
You will also remove all sections implying that I have an unhealthy addiction to milk or pineapple. Please try to make it something a little more manly, such as sandwiches or beer. Also remove the section concerning my 'Kiss the Cook' apron. That belongs to Nadir and if I ever discover how you found out about it a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.
I remain your obedient, if disgruntled, servant.
O.G
PS: Please send me the address of the E/C Shippers United Club. Even I need a little appreciation now and again.
A/N: LOL, I had a lot of fun with this story. I'm rather sorry that it's over! I hope you choose option B. Love you guys and my thanks go to Kirstie, or Gingalops, who would just not stop bugging me at school until I promised to let her appear. I'm glad you enjoyed it everyone! I can't believe how many reviews I've gotten for this. It's rather ridiculous but pleasing.
Love
Katie