A/N: Okay, I'm just in one of those moods. Bear with me. I've got this scene in my head (don't ask my why or how it got there, but it's there) and I think I'll go nuts if I don't get it out. Most likely because it's been a little while since I wrote anything phantom-ish. I wrote this all in one night, so I didn't really edit it, so forgive me if there's some errors. I might go back later and update it with better editing. This is just a one shot fic and then I'll move along back to the other things I'm writing. This is technically a one chapter fic, but it ended up being so insanely long, that I'm releasing it in three sections simultaneously. Keep in mind this is a purely M rated fic for a VERY good reason. So be warned and beware.

Basic premise: Christine is still at the opera house, being tutored by her angel, Erik. There is no Raoul (Mwahahaha). She has seen Erik and knows his identity, but has never seen his face. I think that about sums it up. Enjoy!

"Christine, you'll wear a hole in the floor if you don't stop pacing. It's not going to make the time go by any faster." Meg watched her best friend nervously bite her finger nails as she waited impatiently for the clock to tick.

"What time is it?" Christine asked, not able to hold still long enough to look.

"It's less than two minutes since the last time you asked," Meg said with a smile. She got up from the chair and took Christine by the arms, stopping her circular pattern she'd been treading for nearly 20 minutes. Ever since she found that single red rose with the black satin ribbon laying on top of a note left in her dressing room after the evening's performances, she had been unable to sit still.

"What do you think he wants?" Christine asked nervously.

Meg smiled devilishly. "Oh, I can guess exactly what he wants," she said, letting go of her friend to take up the note from the dresser, she read the perfectly elegant script aloud,

My dearest Christine,

Meet with me tonight, after your performances.

There is something I wish to show you.

Your's Eternally,

E

"Meg! How could you think like that?"

"How could you not?" Meg asked, indignant. "If I had a tutor that looked like him, I sure would be thinking about it."

Christine smiled as a rosy blush flooded her cheeks. Yes, her angel was by far the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. But he wouldn't wear a mask needlessly. She wasn't so naive that she did not believe a little of the things she had heard.

"You've been the worst at perpetuating awful rumors about his looks, Meg. This is hardly the time to reverse your claims."

"Well, just so long as he keeps the mask on, what have you got to worry about?" Meg enjoyed prodding her friend. Yes, she was jealous that Christine had found such a handsome and talented man as her Erik, but it was a sisterly jealousy.

"Don't you have some young nobleman waiting for you?" Christine questioned Meg to change the subject.

Meg sighed, lounging back leisurely on the chair. "Yes. Comte Phillipe something or another. He can wait. He only wants one thing anyway."

"Which you will gladly give him," Christine pointed out, resuming her pacing, but thankful to have a distraction.

"Christine, what kind of a harlot do you think I am? You make it sound as though I sleep with every wealthy man I go out with."

"Don't you?" Christine asked, knowing the answer full well. Meg often gave very thrilling accounts of her nights with her suitors. Most made Christine blush furiously. But late at night, she couldn't help but wonder what Erik's hands would feel like on her body. Especially after their first kiss just a short week ago. It had been opening night with her as the leading soprano. Erik had made the two of them a very intimate candlelit dinner in celebration.

As he walked her back to her room, he had taken her face very gently in the palm of his hand and ever so softly brushed her lips with his own. It had shot such a power through them that they pulled quickly away, Christine touching her lips and wondering just what had happened.

Their kisses since that time were just as equally brief, but had ignited her imagination and dreams with such thoughts and visions that she was far too embarrassed to even be able to confess.

"Of course I don't!" Meg quickly and automatically answered. Then with a smile she added, "Just the ones that I like."

Christine laughed. "You mean the ones that buy you the most beautiful things."

"Well, yes. That too," she said, and both girls broke out giggling like school girls.

Suddenly, a voice descended upon the room like a fine mist. Quiet and seductive, full of passion and promise as it called Christine's name like an enchantment.

Meg took her cue, gave her friend an embrace and kissed her cheek. "Don't behave tonight, Christine. Enjoy it," she said, completely contradictory to the advice of her mother, Madame Giry. Christine waved off her friend who stole out of the room with one last smile at her best friend.

Christine hardly noticed Meg's departure. She was staring at her own reflection in the mirror, knowing that her angel waited on the other side.

The mirror slid away and with the grace of a feline, Erik stepped into the room and brought such a presence that it was nearly overwhelming.

Christine didn't bother to hide the beaming smile that had illuminated her face as Erik crossed the short distance between them and took Christine into his powerful arms. He swept her off the floor and covered her lips with his own. Christine was caught by surprise with how potent this kiss was. Far from the peck on this lips they had shared before.

She wrapped her arms instinctively around his neck.

With one arm wrapped around her lower back, holding her up, he used the other to hold her head as he intensified the kiss for one brief second before pulling away and lowering her back to the ground.

She had to grab onto the front of his jacket to stay steady. Her legs felt like water and her head was swimming. She looked up at him with wide, wondrous eyes, completely speechless. Christine couldn't help but notice as she was holding onto the front of him, that he was breathing heavily.

He waited with the utmost restrained impatience for her response. That wasn't at all how he intended on greeting his protoge, but after listening to her and Meg's conversation, it was entirely unavoidable.

He breathed a noticeable sigh of relief when she smiled and her eyes dazzled.

"Erik," she began, thankful when he stopped her with a leather gloved finger to her lips, as she had no idea what she was going to say after that.

"Christine, you were divine this evening. I am so proud of you."

Red instantly crept into her face at so rare and beautiful a compliment. Erik never made her feel inferior, but he wasn't quick to give unneeded praise either. Like his trust, it had be earned.

He gently kissed her forehead and smiled at her. He looked so elegant in his perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course, with beautiful gold accents. The only white he wore was the ultra pure white of his mask. They nearly matched in color this evening, as she was wearing a flowing golden yellow dress. Though hers was not nearly as brilliant of a gold as his. Nothing of her would ever be as brilliant as him. She knew this and was strangely comforted by it.

"Your note said that you wanted to show me something, what is it?" she asked, her childlike curiosity perking.