Again, sorry for the long wait. Added a little something to help make up for it. I know where I want the story to go. I'm just struggling to get there. Enjoy!

Erik

I had resigned myself to my death. Knowing that Christine was safe gave me a peace that would allow me to endure the trials that I knew lay ahead. I thought of her pain in my nightmare. Now that nightmare would come true. She would surely be terribly grieved, but I knew in time she would heal. She would marry the Viscount, they would have beautiful children, and they would grow old together. Soon she would forget me, and she would be happy. I held on to that thought. I could see it now…Christine holding a beautiful little girl with the same big eyes and chocolate curls. The thought made me smile, and I felt a tear run down my cheek.

The door to the carriage I was being transported in shot open, and two men dragged me out into some lamplight. I sat on my knees before several men that all stared at me with awe and disdain. I recognized one of the men as the one that appeared to be the leader of the group that had captured me. We appeared to be outside of some sort of residence. The man went and slammed on the door.

The house was dark, but in time candlelight could be seen through the curtains of the windows. "Who the bloody hell is it?" an agitated voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Armand Barrett! I've captured the Phantom of the Opera!" the man called back.

The door opened. A heavy set, older man appeared dressed in night apparel. He looked very displeased. "Armand Barrett! How dare you come to…" His words cut off when he saw me. He dropped his candle on the ground. "Dear God!"

Armand smiled at his reaction. "I have captured him peacefully and Mademoiselle Daae is in the safe hands of the Viscount de Chagny."

With eyes wide from fear the older man walked towards me, paying no attention to Mr. Barrett. He grabbed a torch from one of the other men and held it over my face. They had removed my mask during my capture, and my distorted face was free for the world to see. The heat from the lamp burned the sensitive skin. "My god," he whispered. Hesitantly, he started to put his hand toward my face. I quickly caught his eye with mine and gave him such a menacing look that he nearly toppled over as he struggled to get away from me.

I could see the slight grin and Mr. Barrett's face, and I knew at once that the two were not on friendly terms. "Take him to the jailhouse and alert the press to his capture and Mademoiselle Daae's safety. I want the entirety of Paris to know that we've captured him by morning," the older, bigger man ordered.

"You mean I captured him?" corrected Mr. Barrett.

"Yes the police have captured him," the older man said, seeming annoyed.

Mr. Barrett laughed a little. "I'm not sure if you recall, Captain, but I am no longer in the police force. You let me go a few years ago. None of my comrades here are in the police, and we are the ones that made the capture. I am sure you will rightfully credit us...or perhaps you could reinstate me into the force. I am sure the public need not know about this minor timing discrepancy. Otherwise I am sure the papers will find it interesting to know that a group of mercenaries and misfits is more capable of defending the public than those hired to do so." I could see the satisfied smile peaking its way on to the Mr. Barrett's lips.

The older man did not look pleased. "Meet me in the morning, and I will personally see that you are sworn into the force," he answered with a grimace. "Now get this monstrosity out of my sight!" he ordered.

Mr. Barrett smiled. "With pleasure, sir."

Christine

I was sitting in the corner of a beautiful, lavish bedroom in the de Chagny mansion. The thought that Erik was sitting in some atrocious jail cell while I was in the epicenter of luxury burned me to my core. My arms were wrapped around my legs, and I could hardly keep myself in the upright position. The urge to fall over into the fetal position and cry my eyes out was constantly testing the bounds of my strength. My eyes had spent all their tears, and my muscles were aching with pain.

They had treated Erik like an animal. They had treated me like an ignorant, useless child. The bastards! The fucking bastards! I wanted to hunt each and every one of them down and use what little strength I had to end them.

The door creaked open as someone walked in. It was Raoul's maid, Marguerite. Thank goodness. If I had seen Raoul again I did not know if I could resist the urge to strangle him. When they had first brought me into his house I knew immediately that he was responsible for Erik's capture. I slapped him as hard as I could. I guess he got the idea that I did not want to see him.

"Hello sweetheart," the kind maid greeted. She had a tray with some breakfast on it. There was some hot tea, a warm croissant, and some eggs. There was also a cup of cool water. Thankfully she knew better than to make me move. She brought the tray to me. I looked at it but made no attempt for the food. I was definitely hungry, but I did not have the strength to accept any of Raoul's kindness.

The maid gave a small smile. She was an older woman, probably pushing sixty. She had a warm, round face that was weathered from hard work. Her hair was a dusty brown, and she had kind blue eyes. She took a seat beside me. "Starving yourself will not free your man," she told me as she pushed the tray closer.

I only stared at her and continued to ignore the tray. "My, my you sure are stubborn. Your remind me of myself when I was your age." She examined my reaction. I did not particularly want to hear of her youth, but I got the vibe that she did not much care what I wanted.

"I was hopelessly in love with this Spaniard boy that lived with us for a summer. Ohh…he was mighty handsome. Didn't speak a word of French, but with an accent like that he didn't need to!" She laughed, and I could see she was remembering the man. "My parents hated it! They wanted me to marry this boy that was to inherit the larger farm next to us. He was a total ass though! He liked to drink and always got too handsy. Plus I hated farm life, and I dreamed my entire life of moving to Paris. If I had to marry him…I would have put a pistol in my mouth before my twenty-first birthday."

"Why are you telling me this?"I cut her off.

She ignored me and continued with her story. "So my parents sent Alejandro away. The crazy bastard was so in love with me that he found a job in the next closest town to me, and he would walk ten miles nearly every night to see me." She smiled at the thought. "We were so in love. But of course my mother caught us one night together after we had been intimate." She blushed. "My parents were so angry! They were convinced that he had forced himself on me. The police saw him as nothing but a worthless Spanish orphan, and they arrested him. I was furious! I cried for days. I had never been in more pain. It felt as if someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. They wanted to hang him. I knew…I knew that if he died…I would end my own life."

"Are you trying to tell me I should kill myself if they hang Erik? If so, that was kind of already the plan."

"Shut up girl! I'm trying to tell you a story." I could not help but roll my eyes at her. "Anyway…after days of crying…I realized that I no longer had anything left to lose. My options were kill myself, forget him and marry the lousy bastard that lived next to us…which would have been equivalent to death, or bust my man out of jail. I didn't have much experience with jailbreaks or shootouts or anything, but I knew it was the only chance of happiness I had."

"How am I supposed to break Erik out of prison? Trust me I want that more than anything, but this isn't some small town jail on the French countryside. This is Paris!" I argued.

The maid smiled meekly. "Trust my girl…love and desperation will allow you to find resources you never knew possible." She gave me a powerful hug. "You're a smart girl, Christine. Go get your man or die trying. But first…you must eat something." She handed me the croissant with a sly smile. I took a small bite out of it. It tasted so good! It was warm, sugary, and soft.

"Marguerite?" There was a timid knock on the door. It was Raoul. He came in with wide, concerned eyes. His face was pale, and he was wearing the same outfit he had been wearing hours before. One of his cheeks was still a little red. I hadn't realized how hard I had hit him.

"Monsieur," she bowed respectfully and made her way to this door.

"Marguerite?" I called to her.

She looked back at me with a smile. "Are you married?" I had noticed the ring on her finger, but I wanted to know who the lucky man was.

This time her smile was big, and her cheeks turned pink with pride. "My husband died five years ago. Alejandro was the best husband of forty years a woman could ask for," she winked at me behind Raoul before slipping out of the room.

When she was gone Raoul and I were left in silence. I decided that there was a little strength left in me, and I moved myself to the chair beside me. Raoul came to my aid, and he placed the tray on the small table near the chair. He kept his distance from me, however. I think he knew that his touch would be more than I could bear. He took the seat across from me. I nibbled silently at my croissant and avoided looking him in the eye.

We were silent for what felt like ages. Raoul was nervous and could not remain still, and the only movements I could make were the small nibbles of my pastry. The tension between us was nearly overwhelming, but I simply did not have the strength to speak to him.

Raoul was the first to break the silence. "Do you remember that absolutely retched nanny that worked for my family when we were children? How she would never take us to the beach? We would beg her nearly every day…and she staunchly refused. I swear the woman hated the sand…" His voice was distant, and I knew his mind was elsewhere. He seemed solemn when he told his story. "Well you came up with the brilliant idea to torment her into taking us. What was it you said? Ohhh… yes…I will show her that my energy cannot be contained indoors." He smiled at the memory. "You would put bugs in her hair, hide her things, anything to torture the poor woman. You told her the only way to make it stop was to take us to the beach for one day. Finally she relented." He stopped to gauge my reaction. I remained silent. I recalled the memory, but I lacked the strength to find my voice. My silence, apparently, was encouragement enough for him to continue. "When she finally took us it was a horrible day. I swear she chose that day on purpose. I think she hated the sand or something like that. The clouds were thick and grey, and the wind was horrible. It was so bad that it blew your red scarf into the ocean. Your mother had given you that scarf the year before she died. You were frantic." Now I knew I remembered. "I didn't think about how cold the water would be…All I cared about was making you happy. I dove in and caught it for you. You were so happy."

"As soon as you put your feet on dry land it started to poor down rain…," I whispered. I still refused to look at him.

He smiled wide at the sound of my voice. He nodded. "The nanny…what was her name? Ava I believe it was. She demanded we go inside, but you were so happy that we started dancing in the rain. She was livid, but we had so much fun."

"It wasn't one of my best ideas," I added. "We were both terribly ill for the next month."

"Oh yes…," he laughed. "But that is not the reason it stands out to me. It was the day I knew I loved you Little Lotte, and that I would only ever do what I thought best for you."

"I'm not a child any more Raoul. You don't have to take care of me like one. I can fetch my own scarf now."

"I just could not fathom how you could proclaim your love for me one day, and the next day you loved another. And not only that…you loved the man that tormented you…that tried to kill me…that kidnapped you. I thought he had you under some kind of hypnotizes. Even you cannot deny that he is dangerous."

"He did not torment me. Before you came along he was nothing but a kind and dedicated tutor. When I had nothing, I had him. When I was nothing but a lowly orphan, fragile and alone, Erik was there for me. That is more than I can say for you." I stood up in anger. "If you loved me when we were children you would have sought me out as soon as you got the chance. Perhaps you could have persuaded your parents to adopt me. But where were you? You were gone gallivanting across France. When my father died I needed you. But you were nowhere to be found. How dare you come in here and insult the one person that was there for me? He might have his issues, but at least he never abandoned me."

"Christine, he's killed men! Be reasonable."

"Can you imagine what the world has done to him? How should he have mercy on others when it was never shown to him? The only reason he can be a cruel murderer is because the world made him that way. All they saw was his gruesome face, and they ignored the kind, gentle soul underneath. And it is that kind gentle soul that I love!" I screamed as loudly as I could, standing in disdainful resignation. My energy was drained from the outburst, and I collapsed on the seat behind my sobbing. Raoul knew better than to touch me. I dare not look at him, but I was aware of his leaving the room.

Erik

I sat calmly in my dark cell awaiting my trial. The guards were fairly interested in me. Several came by to gawk at my face, but I paid them no mind. I was used to the astounded reaction people afforded me when they saw my face. They did not matter. I had Christine's love, and I did not care what anyone else thought anymore.

The officers did not treat me well. Apparently they blamed me for the deaths of several of their own officers. I believe they were the ones that had kidnapped Antoinette. Hours ago some guards came into my cell and 'interrogated' me on the details of the deaths of their friends. Their idea of interrogation was to punch me until I could barely breathe. The good side of my face now looked quite mangled as well. They did not touch the other. I guess they were afraid they could catch my ugly. The pain did not bother me much. I had been beaten and bruised before. An interrogation was not at all necessary. After they punched and kicked me. I calmly admitted to my guilt in killing their comrades. That angered them more, and they proceeded to beat me for another hour. Never did the pain make me scream. I made sure not to give them that satisfaction.

Now I was alone. Only the distant echoes of the old stone prison were my company. My body ached, but I paid it no attention. I wouldn't even have time to deal with the healing process. Tomorrow I would likely hang anyway. I had resigned myself to die. Christine would be heartbroken…that hurt me, but I knew she had a long happy life with the Viscount ahead of her. She wouldn't have to face the trouble that being in love with me would cost her. Perhaps it was best that I was dying now.

I sat against the wall with my eyes closed and thought of Christine. I'm not sure how, but my body gave way to exhaustion, and I fell asleep.

I dreamt of Christine lying beside me in a meadow. We were having a picnic. There was a rainbow assortment of wildflowers surrounding us. She was in a white dress with her chocolate locks flowing elegantly over her shoulders. She looked up at me with big blue eyes. Her fingers were entwined in mine. I bent down and kissed her. The kiss became passionate. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and he legs wrapped around my waist. She pulled me to the ground on top of her.

She pulled away from the kiss and smiled up at me mischievously before forcing us to turn over. She was not straddling me looking lustfully down upon me. Slowly and teasingly she played with the top of her dress. The pace at which she removed her clothing was painful. I reached up to help, but she slapped my hands away. "All good things come in time," she laughed. She kissed me again. Then she stood up. She removed the ties in her dress and slipped the entire thing off. Then she made quick work of her undergarments. They fell to the ground leaving her completely naked in front of me. She looked like a Grecian goddess. Aphrodite herself would have been jealous.

With a wide grin on her face she sat back down on top of me. My insides were churning. I wanted her badly. I wanted to touch every part of her body. My desire to be inside of her was so overwhelming that it took every bit of restraint not to turn her over and ravage her immediately. She was in charge right now. I was hers to ravage. She took my hands and placed them over her exposed breasts. I cupped her soft skin gently.

"My body is yours," she whispered. That was all I needed to hear. I turned her over and put her on the bottom. Her blue eyes were wide with longing. She worked to remove my pants as I slid my shirt off. I placed a kiss on her lips before ramming myself inside her. She gasped against our kiss. Her legs wrapped around my waist. She writhed in pleasure beneath me as I made love to her. The scene was perfect.

"Good dream?" A voice startled me from my perfect dream. I looked toward the entrance to my cell to see Nadir Khan standing before me looking not too pleased with my present predicament.