Phantom of the Opera 1. Prologue

A curly haired brunette sophomore leaned against a wall that was throbbing with the loud music coming from a large black stereo. She had a beer in her hand and she took a sip, puckering at the taste in her mouth.

"Ick," she muttered. A curvaceous blonde, with long straight hair, bounded up to her. The blonde's large chest threatened to spill out of her low cut, pink shirt, a denim miniskirt showed of her well-muscled legs. "Hi Meg," the brunette said dully.

"Christine what are you wearing?" Meg looked scornfully at Christine's black tank top, baggy black pants, combat boots, and the black fishnets that ran up her arms. Heavy black eyeliner encircled Christine's eyes and black lipstick finished her look.

"What I always wear."

"Exactly," Meg sighed, "What will it take to get you in something pink?"

"The castration of your boyfriend," Christine laughed.

Meg slapped Christine's arm, "Never mind then." With a characteristic nose wrinkle, Meg sauntered away from Christine and into the arms of her boyfriend.

Christine stared down at her second beer, wishing for someone to talk to. It was times like this when Christine felt the loss of her mother the most. When Christine was twelve, Emma Daae was diagnosed with breast cancer. She underwent extensive treatments, but two years later, they found a brain tumor. They lost Emma shortly after Christmas.

Christine shook her head, trying to rid herself of the oppressive thoughts. That was three years ago. She was over it. Looking down at the beer in her hands, she took one more long drink and tossed it over her shoulder then went to the table to get her third.

She was just taking a swig when someone bumped into her back, causing the beer to spew out of her mouth and the rest of the beer to spill, effectively drenching her shirt, running under her bra, and soaking her pants. "What the?" she whirled around and her breath caught in her throat. Looking at Christine was the most gorgeous pair of ice blue eyes she had ever seen. They were lined with heavy black eyeliner, and on the right eyebrow was a bar with skulls on either end. Thick, wavy, ebony hair covered the top of his head and stuck up a bit in the front and brushed the top of his collar. The guy had a tall, lean body and stood about five inches above her… in her combat boots. He wore clothes similar to hers in the fact they were all black. He had full lips that made Christine wonder about kissing him, but what caught Christine a bit off guard was the half mask that covered most of the left side of his face.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking down.

"Its fine, you just startled me." She smiled a bit, stretching her black lips in a gesture she didn't practice very often. He looked like he tried to smile, but it turned out as more of a grimace. Christine giggled, "I'm Christine," she put out a hand to shake. _You don't shake a hot guy's hand! It isn't done in high school! _ Christine mentally slapped herself.

"Erik," Erik caught up her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

"Classy," Christine fought to keep her face from flaming, and she lifted an eyebrow.

"Merci," he quipped.

"Vous êtes bienvenu," Christine said back.

"French class?"

"Nope, I'm from a family of traveling musicians… at least for a little while. We spent two years in France, and then came back here."

"Why?"

"Mom had breast cancer."

"Had?"

"She died three years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry… again."

Christine shook her head and laughed a little, "Why am I telling you this?"

Erik smirked, "Because I am dashing and you find yourself overwhelmed by my charm?"

She shrugged, "Not so far from the truth."

"I was kidding you know."

"I wasn't. Want to dance?" The rational part of Christine's brain screamed at her to stop, call her dad, and go home, but the rest of it was so drunk that it didn't know what was going on.

"Sure why not?" Erik smirked, he was just as drunk if not more so than Christine.

They stepped into the mass of dancers and were quickly pushed into the midst of the throng. At first, Christine and Erik danced almost a full arms length from each other but soon, the magnetic attraction between their hormone ravaged bodies, and not to mention the push of the dancers, soon found the only two gothic people at the party were dancing close and dirty.

The electric shocks that coursed through Christine's body at Erik's touch made her ecstatic; it was something that she had never felt before. She wasn't positive but by the way Erik's ice blue gaze never left her brown one, she was pretty sure he felt the same thing. The sway of her hips matched his exactly and her back was pressed into his chest. His hands were on her flat stomach, and hers were on the back of his legs. Ever so slowly, his hands inched up, as did hers, but Christine broke away before Erik touched anything too intimate.

She turned around and pressed her body up against his, winding her black nailed fingers in his hair, "I don't play with fire, little man."

"Really? Hm." Erik raised his visible eyebrow.

"Yes really," Christine breathed, "I could get burnt."

"Oh but my dear Hecate, I would never let the flames of Hell burn you."

"Hades with an eyebrow piercing, it's not what I imagined but still very nice."

"Thank you," he purred in her ear, sending delightful shivers down her spine. Erik's hands made his way down the small of her back and came to rest on her butt. Christine hooked her arms around his neck and tried to press them together more, but it was practically impossible. The thirst Christine had was not for beer, and it was not for contact that was blocked by thin fabric barriers, it was for the blissful contact of skin on skin.

Tiring a bit, Erik led Christine off the floor and over to a couch that was so populated with couples making out, Christine had no choice but to sit on Erik's lap. His hands rested on her thighs and her head against his shoulder, her soft breathing tickled his neck. Sighing, Christine raised her head to look Erik in the eye, her lips a scant few inches from his. But just as she did that, a rouge dancer bumped into her, sending her crashing toward Erik. Her lips made rough contact with his and suddenly, her body felt as if it were on fire.

Shocked, Christine pulled back and started stammering, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do t-that."

"Sh," Erik breathed. He cradled the back of her head and kissed her gently. His lips were soft against hers, and gently massaged her lips. Once the aftershock wore off, Christine kissed him back, nipping at his bottom lip. Suppressing a groan that bit at the back of his throat, Erik ran his tongue over her bottom lip, seeking entrance to her mouth. Not one to deny Erik anything, Christine opened her mouth a bit and welcomed Erik. Electricity ran through their bodies as their tongues contacted and they explored e ach other's mouths. Soon, Erik's fingers crawled under her shirt and grazed the hook of her bra.

Christine pulled back, her lips lingering on his for a moment. With a deep breath she said, "No, not here," her voice was husky, eyes heavy lidded, and mouth swollen from their savage kissing.

"Come on," Erik said. He grabbed Christine's hand and pulled her to the door.

"Wait, I have to tell Meg I am leaving." Christine stumbled in a drunken stupor over to her blonde friend and whispered to her for a moment before Meg nodded and Christine followed Erik out the door. Erik unlocked his black Mustang and reached across to open the passenger door. Christine slid in and looked at Erik, "Where are we going?"

"My place,"

"No parents?"

"None at all," Erik put the key in the ignition and sped away.

Christine's breathing was heavy and she couldn't tear her eyes away from Erik as he drove the short distance to his house. She didn't pay that much attention when he pulled into the driveway, but it was quite a large house, bordering on mansion. He opened the door quickly, as did Christine, and Erik took her hand and they practically ran to the door. Erik fumbled with his keys in the lock. It took him a minute to finally open it. Once inside, Erik locked the door and pinned Christine against it, and began kissing her passionately. He pulled away moments later to drag her up the stairs and into what she presumed was his room.

The walls were all black with silver graffiti on the far right wall; music notes and various sayings were the main focus. An emerald green comforter lay across the bed and was pulled back to reveal black sheets, silver pillows were thrown haphazardly at the head of the bed, and they scattered into a complete disarray when Christine was pushed onto the bed by Erik.

Christine writhed under Erik as waves of warmth bubbled up from her belly as Erik thrust his tongue into her mouth and explored the roof of her mouth, the contour of the inside of her cheek, and the sensitive area under her tongue. Erik pulled back and pressed soft kisses to her jaw line and down her neck where he began to suck at her collarbone. His fingers crept up her shirt sending shocks to Christine's barely on brain. Still kissing him, Christine unbuttoned Erik's black shirt and pulled it off, fingering his well-defined abs; Erik had her shirt off a moment later.

Pulling back, Erik looked at Christine, "We can stop if you want."

She shook her head and pulled his back down to hers.

Christine lay in Erik's embrace staring at his masked face. _Slut._ The single word ran through her head like a mantra. _You filthy dirty whore, you sleep with a guy you have known for how many hours? Let's see… try about four! Your father has done so much for you and how do you repay him?_

She shook her head to rid it of the thoughts and reached out to touch Erik's lips. When she did, he stirred; his eyes fluttered open to look at her.

"I have to go," she whispered.

Erik nodded, "I'll drive you home."

They dressed silently, and stumbled down the stairs into Erik's car where they drove silently to Christine's dark house.


	2. Chapter One

_AN:_ _I have made a few changes to the prologue, so if you want to read that go ahead. I am astounded by the response I have already gotten and I hope you like it! The beginning may be a little slow so sorry in advance.

* * *

_

_Fourteen years later_

"Grab a can of green beans, would you Ashe?" Twenty nine year old Christine Daae looked at her list and back up at her daughter. Ashleigh Desiree Daae wrinkled her nose as she picked up a can of green beans and dropped it in the cart with a satisfying clang. Christine sighed at her teenage daughter and looked back down at her list. _Bread, apples, turkey, mayonnaise, pasta… _the list went on down the page.

"Can I go get some chips?" Ashe asked, looking back at her mom. Christine nodded. Ashe was tall for a fourteen year old (about five nine), she had her mom's curls but her hair was jet black and she had piercing ice blue eyes; however her beautiful eyes weren't usually the first thing people noticed about her. On a normal basis, people noticed the white porcelain mask that adorned the left side of her face. They just stared at her. When Christine was around she would usually glare at them in a protective, motherly way, when she wasn't around… Ashe came home crying a lot when she was younger. When she was in sixth grade all of a sudden she became cold and distant to most people. The only people that she would let behind her walls were her small group of friends.

Christine thanked the Lord everyday for the small group of friends that Ashe had. It was a blessing to both of them that some people were raised in sensible households and knew better than to judge people by what they looked like. They saw past the mask and the clothes that were so similar to what Christine wore as a teenager. Jay, Aimee, David, and Hunter had been Ashe's friends since elementary school and had been a tight knit group ever since.

Ashe came shuffling back with a bag of baked Lays and wordlessly held them up, Christine nodded, and Ashe put them in the cart. Looking her feet, Ashe pulled out her black Ipod and slipped the ear buds into her ears, tuning out the world and slipping into one full of music.

As Ashe and Christine rounded the corner into the cereal isle, Ashe took out the ear buds and looked up at her mom, the white mask slightly obscuring her expression. Christine glanced at her, "Did you want something sweetie?"

"Could… could you tell me about my dad?" Ashe asked quietly. Her dad was something that they had never really talked about. Ashe knew that she was not supposed to happen, but she never doubted that Christine loved her. The "dad" subject was not avoided per say, but it was not something that was a frequently discussed topic.

Christine bit her lip, "Well I guess I could, a bit anyway. What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet?"

"I was fifteen, he was sixteen… I think… he may have been seventeen, I'm not completely sure. We went to the same high school and we hung out in the same crowd, but I never talked to him. Anyway, Aunt Meg was throwing a party, you know how she loves to entertain, and I was drinking-"

"Mom!" Ashe laughed a little, the image of her mother drinking and getting drunk was something that could send her into hysterics if it wasn't such a serious topic.

"I was young and stupid, something you aren't; besides I was still mourning my mom's death and I suppose I was trying to get back at the world. But I was pretty drunk, and I went to get another beer when your father bumped into me and being as clumsy as I am, I slopped beer down the front of my shirt. I whirled around to cuss him out, but was pleasantly surprised by what I saw.

"But when it all comes down to it, we were both drunk and looking for something we thought we could fulfill with sex. I haven't seen him since, but I got you," Christine leaned down and kissed Ashe's forehead tenderly.

Ashe rolled her eyes, trying to hide the small smile that was threatening to commit treason on her lips. "What was his name?"

"Erik, I don't know his last name."

"What did he look like?"

"Honestly, in the looks department, the only thing you got from me was your curly hair and maybe your facial structure. Your hair color and eye color is all him."

"And," Ashe gestured to her face.

Christine sighed, "I am not sure honey, but he did wear a mask like that though. I don't know what was under it. I'm sorry."

Ashe shrugged, "Its okay. Can I ask one more question?" Christine nodded. "Do you know where he could be now?"

Shaking her head, Christine apologized, "For all I know he could still be in Indianapolis." Ashe just put the ear buds back in.

* * *

With a growling stomach, Erik pulled into the Chick-fil-A across from a Meijer.

"_Thank you for choosing Chick-fil-A, how may I help you?"_ the tinny voice came across the intercom.

"I would like one chicken sandwich and one large, unsweetened iced tea please."

"_Okay… that comes to 3.65, please pull around to the first window._"

"Thank you." Erik pulled around, paid, and got his food. _Imbeciles_, he thought, _with all the crazy things that kids do to themselves, they just have to stare at a mask. Thank God I will never have kids. Spare someone else this horror.

* * *

_

"Hey Mommy!" A little boy pulled on his mother's pant leg, "Mommy, look at that girl!" His stubby little finger pointed at Ashe.

"Shush Josh," the woman muttered, not turning around.

"Mommy," Josh whined, "look at her! She is wearing a mask!"

"Joshy," the mom turned around and looked where her son was pointing. His little finger was pointed directly at Ashe who was looking at him, the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown. "Um, come on Josh." His mom took him by the arm and started pulling him away.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Christine tapped the woman on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I believe you and your son owe my daughter an apology."

"Josh, say you are sorry to the girl." The little boy shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. "Joshy!"

"What?" He looked up at his mother with wide innocent eyes.

"Apologize, now!"

"No."

"Excuse me?" Christine and the mother said at the same time.

"Ma'am, please just leave this to me, he is my son, and I can take care of it." The woman turned on Christine.

"I don't believe you can because if you could, you would have had him apologize to Ashe when he said something the first time and not tried to walk away, and you would have instilled him with enough morals to not point and make fun of someone, especially when they are _right in front of you_!"

The woman spluttered, "We are both _sorry_," and she turned on her heel and dragged her little boy by the wrist down the isle.

Fuming, Christine stalked back to Ashe's side. "Mom, don't worry about it." Ashe blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "I get it all the time."

"And should you have to? No, you shouldn't."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be used to ridicule," Christine dropped a box of spaghetti in the cart.

"Well I am so can we just forget about it and leave it the heck alone!" A lone tear trickled out of sight, and under Ashe's mask.

Sighing, Christine hugged her daughter and nodded.

* * *

Erik pulled into the Meijer parking lot and as he got out, reached into his pocket and pulled out his list, _lunchmeat, bread, wine, ground beef… _all written in the fine hand of his butler, Damien. Sighing, he put it back in his pocket and walked though the parking lot and went though the automatic doors. A greeter pushed a red and grey cart into his hands, refusing to look at him. Biting his lip to keep from a sharp response, he rolled down the isle and into the produce section.

Inwardly, Erik cursed his butler for being sick, and he cursed Nadir, the closest person he had to a "friend" for being out of the country. As much as Erik hated being out in public, he had woken up and looked in the fridge and was amazed to find there was practically nothing in there except for a few slices of American cheese (which he detested when not melted or on something) and the remnants of a few past dinners which were not looking so good. His stomach had influenced his better sense, and driven him to go out and actually go shopping. Damien had a list that he kept on the kitchen counter, and Erik had snatched it up before he went out the door.

_Bananas… bananas… _Erik scanned the cartons for the yellow fruit. _Ah, there they are._ He rolled over and picked up a bunch to inspect it for blemishes. Turning it over, he spotted a large brown mark. _Christine,_ her name broke into his thoughts for the billionth time. Whatever he tried, he could not forget that beauty with auburn curls. The way her skin felt against his had plagued his dreams for fourteen years. Not once had he gone a day without thinking of her. The things Erik saw as problematic though were the facts that he had only seen her once (but he would recognize her anywhere), he did not know her last name (but he wished that he could replace it with his), and he didn't know what her address was or her phone number (but Erik wished they were the same as his). Her chocolate brown eyes were so expressive and seemed to glide over the mask with only a moment's pause. Sighing, Erik ran his hand over the right side of his face, and continued to look for fresh fruit.

* * *

"What do you want for dinner tonight?"

Ashe only shrugged and looked disgustedly at the packaged rabbit in the meat freezer. "Well I can tell you what I don't want."

"What is that?" Christine sighed.

"Two things…"

"Ashe just spit it out will you?"

"Chicken butt or rabbit," wrinkling her nose, Ashe turned away and walked ahead of her mother to look at something less nauseating.

"Teenagers…" Christine muttered darkly.

Picking up a package of ground beef, Ashe walked back to her mom, "How about cheap spaghetti?"

"That does sound good. Will you go and get a package of chicken patties for me please?" Ashe muttered something and walked away to get the chicken.

Christine looked at her daughters retreating form. She looked a lot like Christine did when she was that age, except with a different twist. Ashe did the heavy eyeliner but skipped out on the black lipstick, preferring a blood red color or a clear lip-gloss. Baggy black cargo pants hung low on her daughter's waist and pooled over her (at the moment) bright pink Converse high tops. A white vest with black pinstripes was layered over a skin tight, pink, long sleeve shirt. Ashe's waist length hair was piled on top of her head in two pigtails that were gathered into messy buns. And of course there was the white mask on the left side of her face.

After a few minutes Ashe came back with the chicken patties and fell into step with her mom. They finished their list and got in line to check out.

"Oh, Mom, did we get spaghetti sauce?"

"Damn, no we didn't. Will you go get it for me?" Christine stuck her bottom lip out at Ashe. Sighing, Ashe shuffled away; Christine chuckled at her daughter's dramatic antics.

_Bread, crackers and health food… no… Would spaghetti sauce be under foreign food? May as well look._ Ashe stumbled down the isle, bright pink packaging caught her eye and she turned, _Ooh! Ramen Noodles!_ Snickering, Ashe grabbed one of the mostly empty crates that the packages were in and filled in the spaces with Chicken and Oriental flavor. Humming the overture of _Phantom of the Opera_, Ashe grabbed a thing of Ragu (flavored with meat) tomato sauce and ambled down the isle and into the frozen food section with the Ramen Noodles resting on her hip.

* * *

Erik looked at the two cartons of Vanilla Bean ice cream in his hands; one was more expensive than the other and Erik couldn't figure out the difference and he couldn't remember what Damien got, so he was comparing the ingredients on the back. Shaking his head, he put them both back and grabbed a carton of mint chocolate chip, the only one he probably hadn't tried yet. Dropping it in the cart, he looked down the isle and smirked at a girl who was piling her arms with frozen dinners that were on sale for five for three dollars. She had black, curly hair, and she dressed in a way that reminded him of Christine, but in a more subdued way. Then again, he could find anything about a woman that reminded him of Christine. It was a curse.

* * *

Ashe piled frozen dinners on the crate in front of her, they came up to her elbows, and she had to lean back so that they wouldn't spill everywhere. It couldn't be helped, there was a sale, and sadly, Ashe and her mother were addicted to them.

After looking down at them for a while to make sure she was situated, Ashe looked up and found that people were staring at her, and that little kid, Josh, and his mom were back. _And Mom just _had _to bring me out to go shopping with her. "Please Ashe?" she says. God I hate how I can't ever refuse anything to anyone I love. _

"Look Mommy, she's back!" The little boy said loudly, pointing at Ashe. Anger bubbled up in her veins and she walked backwards, away from the boy, and she bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Ashe turned around to look at the person she was apologizing to, but when she looked around, she was looking at someone's chest, which was quite unnatural for her. She looked up and a glaring white mask exactly like hers stood out on the man's face. After doing a double take, Ashe looked at the man, _Black hair, blue eyes, tall, mask… Oh my freaking God._


	3. Chapter Two

**AN: Here's chapter two! Sorry for a bit of unrealism in the beginning and actually through out the whole chapter, but I know both my parents so I wasn't sure how to write it. But anyway, Let the story begin!**

* * *

"Oh my God, Oh my God," in shock, Ashe dropped what she was holding and the jar of spaghetti broke and splattered all over the floor, sending droplets of red onto her and the man's pants. She put her hand over her mouth and backed away, then turned around and sprinted through the store.

"Ashe?" Christine looked at her daughter come flying out of the produce section and toward her.

"M-mom, he's here!" Ashe spluttered, tugging on her mom's arm.

"Who?"

"E-Erik, he's here! Come on!" Shocked, Christine let Ashe pull her through the store and back to the frozen food section where a man with a mask was picking up an array of frozen dinners and Ramen Noodles, a Meijer worker was there, cleaning up the spilled spaghetti sauce.

"Yes I am quite a klutz, I will pay for it." Erik's voice rumbled out of his chest sending chills down Christine's spine as they had the first time she met him. They walked up slowly and stopped about two yards away as he pressed the money into the palm of the worker who left with a huff, and turned to the side to put back the frozen dinners.

Ashe stood a bit behind her mother as Christine sized Erik up. His jaw was more chiseled than it had been fourteen years ago, he had more muscle on him and it showed through the thin fabric of his white long sleeve shirt. His dark wash, boot cut jeans that had black cowboy boots peaking out from under them. Erik's long black hair was slicked back, except for a few pieces that were loose around his face, his blue eyes seemed even bluer, and as usual, the white mask adorned the left side of his face.

Poking her mom in the back, Ashe asked, "Is that him?" Wordlessly, Christine nodded. "That is my biological dad?"

"Yes, it is."

"Ma'am, you don't need to stare, I know you are looking at my mask. And it is only that; please leave me alone so I may shop in peace." Erik could see a woman with auburn curls looking at him with a wistful expression out of his peripheral vision; she looked so much like his dearest Christine. _Get her out of you head you old man! For all you know she is not even in Indiana and she is married with children. But that little girl, she looked a lot like Christine, and she had a mask. Quite peculiar isn't it?_

Shaking his head, Erik turned around to look at the woman who was still looking at him, his breath caught in his throat.

"Hello Erik." Christine smiled slightly.

"Christine?" Erik didn't really need to ask, the speeding up of his heart told him it was really her. Her hair had grown out, reaching the small of her back, her eyes held a sparkle that they had held less of when he saw her first. She had filled out a little more, and had a little more curve than he remembered but she still looked beautiful.

Ashe felt a surge of confidence since Christine affirmed that this man was indeed her father, "And now that introductions between you two are over, I'm Ashe." Smirking she stuck out her hand to shake.

Slightly confused, Erik shook her hand, "Do you even know who I am?" What didn't make sense to Erik was why Christine would tell her daughter about a guy she had a drunken fling with.

"Of course I do!" Ashe laughed sarcastically.

"Ashe," Christine said in a low, warning tone.

"Oh Mom, doesn't he have a right to know?"

"What do I have a right to know?" Erik asked, looking at Christine. He really wasn't being stupid, he was just ignoring that gnawing ache in his stomach that told him how Ashe knew who he really was.

"Ashe," Christine repeated.

"Are you blind? Do you not see the resemblance between you and me? Black hair, blue eyes, this," she gestured to her face. "Don't you recognize your own daughter? Daddy?" Ashe batted her eyelashes and clasped her hands under her chin.

"Christine, you got…" Erik trailed off.

"Pregnant? Yes, I did." Sighing at Erik's dumbness, both physically and mentally, Christine fished in her purse for a piece of paper and pen. When she found it she wrote her address on the paper and handed it to Erik. "Meet us there when you are finished shopping. I will fix you dinner."

"Oh Christine, I don't wish to impose and I don't think your daughter-"

"Our," Ashe corrected.

"Our?" Erik looked at her.

"My God, you are stupid. I am your, as in the two of you, Christine Daae and Erik whatever's daughter. Our, is the first person of your. Coming from you, it should be our. Now you may continue."

"I don't think _our _daughter likes me much." Erik corrected. Sadness welled up in him as he said that. Erik had never thought about having children, but it made him sad to think his own daughter didn't like him.

"Oh quite the contrary, I do like you for some strange reason, but I am just sarcastic and critical of most people." Ashe cut off her mother again, smiling sweetly.

Christine pursed her lips in irritation, and then looked up at Erik, "Do you like cheap spaghetti?"

"Cheap spaghetti?"

"Ragu sauce, a pound of ground beef thrown in, pasta, salad and maybe some Italian bread."

"Um, sure."

"Good." Christine and Ashe said at the same time and they turned around to go check out.

* * *

"What am I doing?" Forty-five minutes later, Erik was driving to Christine's address. He had speed shopped through the store, earning more looks than he should have, and skipping about a third of the items on the list. Who needed garlic anyway? All it did was make his breath smell bad, and Erik didn't like the stuff at all. And then he had to go home and put away the food… Erik's nerves were in tatters.

Next thing Erik knew he was knocking on the door to a modest two-story home in a quaint suburb. It was red brick with a black roof, and white trim. Christine opened the door, she had a white apron on that said "Kiss the Cook," and it looked like she had changed into a scarlet t-shirt and some wide leg, cuffed, dark wash jeans and she was wearing black, pointy toe heels.

"Oh how sweet!" Christine squealed, taking the roses that Erik hadn't even realized he had bought, she took his hand and led him into what he presumed was the living room. "Sit down, let me just get a vase." She bustled into the other room and Erik realized that her jeans were a little too tight for his comfort. Literally.

Erik looked around the room. He was sitting on a red couch with cream and gold throw pillows. The walls were a warm creamy color and in the center of the room was a mahogany coffee table. The carpet was a pristine and well-kept white, it was spotless! There was an array of antique lamps that Erik presumed threw a soft light that was almost like candlelight, but he wasn't sure because it was still only six o'clock.

Ashe came stomping down the stairs and looked at Erik, "What are you doing in here?"

"Your mom just told me to sit down." Erik shifted uncomfortably.

"Mmm, well I hope you don't mind but my band is going to be here soon."

"You are in a band?"

"Yep, at the moment we are still a garage band, but we are trying to get a lot better so we can get a record label soon." Ashe flopped dramatically onto the white chaise lounge across from the couch where Erik was sitting.

"What do you play?" Erik leaned forward, wondering what musical instrument his daughter had hopefully gotten his genius for.

"I don't play, I do vocals." That was even better in Erik's book.

"Ashe can you come in here and help?" Christine poked her head around the corner. Sighing, Ashe stumbled into the kitchen, with Erik at her heels.

The kitchen did not have a color scheme Erik figured Christine would have, it seemed to sharp for what she seemed to be now. The stark white walls contrasted sharply with the black stove, cabinets, and countertops, but Christine seemed to radiate happiness while she was stirring the large pot of spaghetti sauce.

"Ashe set the table please." Christine directed, not turning her back.

"Two steps ahead of you Madre." Ashe walked out of the room and into what Erik presumed was the dining room.

Christine turned around and saw Erik standing awkwardly in the doorframe, she laughed a little. "I don't bite you know," she paused at Erik's raised eyebrow and thought for a moment and corrected herself, "Well I won't right now." She wrinkled her nose. "Do you know how to drain pasta?"

"Yes," Erik affirmed.

"Then would you please? All you need to do for this one is put the lid on, and twist it to the left so it locks then you can turn it upside down without it spilling everywhere."

Erik stood beside Christine and looked for the lid, "Where is the lid?"

"Oh, here." Christine reached across him and pulled it out from behind the bread. Unbeknownst to her, the slight brush of her arm and breast against Erik's chest sent fireworks exploding in his body.

Biting his lip, Erik drained the pasta and then at Christine's request, he sliced the bread and put it in a bowl with a dark green napkin over the top to keep in the heat. Ashe came back and put the bread, silverware, butter, salt and pepper on the table then turned to her mom.

"The guys are going to be here around seven, so I am going to eat fast then set up, alright?"

"Ask Erik, not me." Christine poured the sauce into a large bowl and the pasta into another bowl and went to set them on the table.

"Two questions," Ashe directed this at Erik, "One, is it alright if my band comes over? You didn't seem to have any objection to it earlier, but whatever."

"It's fine with me." Erik shrugged, he didn't really understand why he would care, but he liked that Christine had thought about him.

"And two, what do I call you? I mean I know you are my dad and all but, you know." Ashe smiled slightly.

"Erik is fine."

"Okay."

Christine came back into the kitchen and announced dinner was ready, so the three of them walked into the dining room and Christine took her place at the head of the table, Ashe on her left, and Erik presumed that he was on her right. Then again, that was the only place left with a plate.

The dining room had cherry wood paneling on the walls and dark green carpet. Erik didn't know what the table was made of because of the dark green tablecloth that covered it. The chairs however, were a rich cherry color and had dark green cushions.

Erik looked at Christine and she had her head bowed and her hands folded as did Ashe. He didn't usually pray, but out of politeness, folded his hands and bowed his head. After praying, Christine served everyone's food, and the bread bowl was passed around and they began to eat.

"So what is your last name?" Ashe looked up at Erik.

He swallowed, "Destler." As if on cue Ashe and Christine both dropped their forks onto their plates with a clatter and stared at him, with almost identical, bug eyed expressions on their faces.

"You are Erik Destler?" Ashe asked; she was shocked! Erik Destler was a millionaire at least, and was probably a billionaire.

"Yes, I am. Is that a problem?" Erik's brow furrowed.

"No not at all, we just weren't expecting for you to be rich. Then again, with all the articles Ashe has read about you, she should have placed you." Christine's expression smoothed out and she wiped her hands on her napkin.

"Oh, I don't read the things people write about me. I have never actually had an interview, but my butler and friend have been interviewed about me. So I don't really pay attention."

"Wow." Ashe just shook her head and started shoveling her food back into her mouth. They ate in silence for a while before Erik started talking to Christine.

"How have you been the last fourteen years?"

"I've been okay. Dad was sick after I met you, and he died later that year, around thanksgiving, and I went to live with the Girys. You remember Meg don't you? Yeah, she was the one having the party. Ashe was born, I got my degree online, when she was about four, I got a job, and we have done pretty well ever since."

"What do you do?"

"I write about fashion and up and coming trends and designers."

"Mom you make it sound so low key." Ashe rolled her eyes are her mother and turned to Erik, "She is an at home writer for Vogue and she gets to go to New York and watch fashion shows and all that stuff, and she has made friends with more than a few designers. That is where I get most of my clothes. I even have some haute couture clothes that Mom insists I save for a very special occasion." She rolled her eyes again. Christine only shrugged modestly.

"I am also trying to get a book published, but that doesn't mean much."

"I'm impressed." Erik smiled slightly; Christine dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

Three quick raps on the front door then it opening and a loud "ASHEYPOO!" announced the arrival of Ashe's friend.

"HUNTERKINS!" Ashe yelled. Christine rolled her eyes.

"Where are you?" Hunter trilled.

"Dining room," she trilled back.

A boy with sandy brown hair that was spiked up sauntered into the room. He had deep green eyes, and a tall, lean physique. Hunter wore one small hoop in his left ear, and he wore a red t-shirt and some jeans that rode low on his hips.

Laughing, Ashe stood up and air kissed Hunter on both cheeks, then he slung his arm over her shoulders and looked at Christine. "Hey Christine! We match!"

Christine mock pouted and Hunter laughed and air kissed Christine. "Hey Hunter." She looked at Erik who had raised his visible eyebrow. "Hunter this is Erik Destler."

"Hello sir," Hunter shook Erik's hand, his eyes slipping over the mask. "I have heard quite a bit about you, and it is a pleasure to meet you in person."

"You too, young man." Erik was astounded at the teenager's manners; manners in the younger people seemed to be something that just didn't exist.

"Go ahead and get some dinner. I take it you haven't eaten?" Christine said.

"Well I have eaten something, but it was just some fries from Rally's. But who am I to refuse any food?" He sauntered into the kitchen with Ashe at his heels. Laughter could be heard in the dining room and Erik turned to Christine.

"Are they dating or something?"

Christine shook her head, "No they are just really, _really_ good friends."

"He didn't even look at my mask."

"That is why I let him call me by my first name and let him have an almost run of the fridge. I just have to remember to have barbeque chips or he gets a little nutty."

Ashe and Hunter came back into the room and sat down next to each other. "So Ashe, how did you meet the famous Mr. Destler?"

"I literally ran into him at the grocery store and a whole little story spilled out so Mom invited him for dinner."

"Story?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, you know how mom is only like twenty nine and I am fourteen and all that jazz?"

"Yeah."

"This is my biological dad." Ashe just said it nonchalantly, but Hunter's mouth dropped open, exposing the food he had just chewed up. "Close your mouth Hunter, we aren't seven and see food is not funny anymore."

Hunter swallowed quickly and looked at Erik then Christine and then Erik again. "Wow."

"Yep, that's what I said."

Around seven o'clock, the rest of Ashe's band arrived. Aimee was on guitar, Jay was on drums, and David was on bass while Hunter and Ashe were the lead vocalists. Aimee had blonde hair that was cropped short with a heavy bang, and she had alternating purple and pink stripes in it. She wore clothes a bit like Ashe's, but concentrated more on the color black. She had heavy eyeliner, and her ears were triple pierced with one hoop through the upper cartilage of her left ear. Jay wore his black hair a bit long and wore a blue t-shirt and cargo pants. David had a small red Mohawk, and wore a black band shirt and jeans.

As soon as they were all fed, Ashe escorted them to the garage and they began to play.

"Do you want to go listen?" Christine saw the curious expression on Erik's face.

"Would they mind?" As much as he wanted to listen, he didn't want to be pushy and make himself unwelcome in Christine's home.

"I doubt it, but would you help me clear the table first?'

"Sure." As they were clearing the table, Erik realized he didn't know Ashe's full name. "What is Ashe's full name?" he asked as he put the left over pasta into a Tupperware container.

"Ashleigh Desiree Daae, why do you want to know?"

"I don't know anything about her, I figured her name was as good a place to start as any."

"Anything else?"

"About her or you?"

"Either one."

"Okay let's start with you."

"Alright," smiling, Christine led Erik into the living room and they sat comfortably on the couch, getting to know each other.

* * *

**AN: Hey lovelies! I need to know how many of you would stop reading if Raoul was _really really_ OOC. I am asking because I came up with an idea and it would move the plot (which is the only plot I have right now) along, but I don't want to lose readers. If a majority objects I will just make it fluffy till I have a plot, but I really hope that you lovely readers don't object. Then again if you do, that is your opinion and I respect that. **


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Hey all, I decided what to do with Raoul and as you can see, he wont be the bad guy here. He just isn't that kind of guy. And I'm not sure on how I did with the whole Christine, Erik thing. It may be a little to fluffy a little to fast, but dont think that means that they attacked each other's lips because they didn't. Alrighty then, go ahead and read. Please review!**

* * *

Erik bit the inside of his lip as he listened to the sound coming through the walls.

"Erik is something wrong?" Christine tilted her head at Erik's expression; he looked like he was in pain.

"Do you think we could go and listen to Ashe's band now?"

"I suppose so, is everything alright? You look like you are in pain."

"No, I just have some tips to make them sound much better," he stopped, "Do you think they would mind?"

Christine laughed a little, "I doubt it. They are trying to win the talent competition at the high school next month, and I don't know enough about instruments to help." They got up to walk into the garage.

"Do you know anything about singing?" Erik cast her a sidelong glance.

"I dabble. Once I tried to get onto Broadway and I never made it so I sort of quit singing."

"I would like to hear you some time, if that is okay." Christine shrugged and opened the door from their kitchen into the garage.

The garage had the typical unpainted grey walls, it had a ragged off white carpet. There were beanbags in one corner, a mini fridge close to it and other things typical of a teenage hang out.

"We never use it, for the car anyway." Christine said.

"Figured as much," Erik leaned against the door and waited for the band to finish their song, which they did in a few seconds.

Ashe and Hunter finished the last note and Ashe looked at her parents, "Well?"

"May I give a few tips?" Erik took a step toward them and she nodded. "Alright, Ashe and Hunter, breathe from your diaphragm, you will have more air power. Ashe, keep your throat relaxed and you won't sound as strained when you are trying to hit higher notes." He walked over to Aimee and demonstrated a different way to hold her guitar and looked at her guitar pick, "I can get you a better quality one if you like."

"Sure," Aimee smiled widely and thanked Erik, who offered the same to David, who also accepted. Erik didn't have much to say to Jay except perhaps tone down the theatrics; Jay flushed a deep shade of scarlet and mumbled something to his feet.

"Alright, now try something." Erik stepped back and stood next to Christine.

"Um, how about the first verse and chorus from _Me Against the World_?" Ashe offered. She was answered by shrugs and nodding. Aimee began the introduction, and Ashe and Hunter strummed at their guitars and stepped closer to the microphones.

"We're not gonna be  
Just apart of their game  
We're not gonna be  
Just the victims  
They're taking our dreams  
And they tear them apart  
Til everyone's the same  
I've got no place to go  
I've got no where to run  
They love to watch me fall  
They think they know it all

I'm a nightmare, a disaster  
That's what they always say  
I'm a lost cause, not a hero  
But I'll make it on my own  
I've gotta prove them wrong  
Me against the world  
It's me against the world" They stopped playing and Christine and Erik clapped.

"Better, much better." Erik smiled slightly.

Ashe squealed, "Thank you!"

Laughing a little, Christine took Erik's hand and led him back into the house, "I thought you may want to see the rest of the house."

Lightning bolts ran up and down Erik's arm as he was acutely aware of the warm pressure put on his hand, "Um, oh, yes, of course." He shook his head slightly and followed Christine down the hall.

"You have seen the living room, kitchen, and dining room, now here is the study slash den," Christine pointed toward a room with navy blue paint on the walls and mostly white and sliver furniture. Bookcases lined the walls, a white couch was against the west wall, and a moon shaped clock hung over it, ticking ever so often. A black piano was nestled in a corner with a smattering of music notes painted on the wall in white and silver. Two white desks were on opposite sides of the room, both had computers, and one had stacks upon stacks of paper on it.

"Is that one yours?" Erik pointed to the messy desk; Christine flushed good-naturedly and nodded.

"Bathroom," she pointed to a gold and white room, typical bathroom. "And now we go upstairs," Christine turned around and started to move past Erik, but the hallway was narrow, and they both had to put their backs to the wall for Christine to move through. Erik found himself caught in a net of emotion; a raging swirl rose up from his belly and moved into his throat. It swelled, seeming to cut off all oxygen flow to his brain, rendering him senseless.

Christine was in the same boat; she was pressed up against Erik in a most awkward situation. They had only really met twice in their lives and the first one was _fourteen years_ ago, but it seemed like it was only a day or so ago. All the feelings that Christine felt now mimicked the exact thing she felt at the party that drove her to do things that she never quite regretted. Now she remembered why.

Sipping air in small gulps, Christine realized she was still holding Erik's hand and that somehow, their fingers had become interlaced. _Oh Lord,_ she thought. Erik's blue eyes locked with her brown ones, sending shivers down both of their spines. The doorbell broke the silence with a loud _ding-dong_, breaking the spell that held the two together.

"I should get that." Christine whispered.

"Of course."

Christine slipped past Erik, letting go of his hand a bit regretfully, leaving Erik feeling cold where her touch was absent. He heard her answer the door and give a squeal of delight as she ushered someone in the door. Erik shook his head and walked out into the living room.

In the living room, Christine was sitting on the couch talking to a man who looked to be in about his mid forties. He had a scruffy beard and ill kept, graying hair.

Christine looked up at Erik, "Oh, this is Joseph, Joseph, this is Erik."

Erik looked at the man, he held a slight resemblance to Christine, but perhaps it was just his eye color.

"Hello Erik," Joseph put out a hand to shake and when Erik accepted, both men seemed to size each other up. Joseph's grip was limp, his skin oily, and his eyes shifty. Erik decided he didn't like him.

"Hello Joseph," Erik turned to Christine, "If you need me to leave I will." A sinking feeling settled in his gut. After all he had been there for about two hours, it was growing late, and he may have overstayed his welcome.

"Oh, no! I mean, not unless you want to. Joseph is my brother; he just stopped by to drop off some files." She gestured to the stack of papers on the coffee table.

"Hey Mom-" Ashe walked into the room, rubbing her eyes. When she saw Joseph she stopped short, her breath caught and Erik barely noticed it, but her eyes widened a bit. Recovering quickly, Ashe turned back to her mother, "Do you have any more bags of chips or Gushers or some kind of food?"

Erik looked at Joseph, who was smirking a little. A seed of anger planted itself in Erik's chest and spread roots all the way to his toes. Something was not right with this picture, but Christine seemed to be completely oblivious to her daughter's strange, scratch that, _very_ strange reaction to her uncle.

"Did you run out of stuff in the garage?" Christine shook her head at her daughter and her friend's gluttony. Ashe shrugged sheepishly. "In the cabinet above the stove."

"Well I should leave; Marnie is waiting at home with dinner." Joseph watched his niece practically sprint out of the room and turned back to Christine.

"Of course, you always did eat late." Christine hugged her brother and ushered him out of the door.

"Nice to meet you Erik!" he called back over his shoulder.

"You too," Erik's brow furrowed, and shaking his head, he sat down on the couch.

Christine sat on the couch next to Erik, and chuckled a little, but at Erik's expression she stopped. "Is something wrong?"

"I- I don't know…" Erik trailed off and shook his head again, "Never mind."

"Are you sure?" Christine touched Erik's cheek, her finger seemed to stick, and a blush rose in his cheeks, causing Christine's insides to squirm and rose's to adorn her cheeks as well.

"Yes," Erik whispered, returning the gesture.

"You seem warm."

"So do you." Erik laughed, _I wonder why,_ he thought.

"Will you stop?" Ashe stood in the doorframe with her arms crossed. Christine laughed and scooted back; she hadn't realized she was sitting so close to Erik.

"Are you alright Ashe?" Erik looked at his daughter. _Daughter… I have a daughter._ The word seemed strange to Erik's mind, in that context anyway. He never thought he would have a daughter.

"Oh I am just spiff!" She threw her arms up in the air, "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Hunter did, Aimee did, David and Jay both did. I am fine! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Once again, Erik's ever-observant eyes caught a sparkle of tears in Ashe's eyes as she dashed up the stairs.

Christine frowned, "Sorry, let me just-"

"I would like to talk to her for a moment if that is alright. I need to leave soon anyway." Erik interjected.

Christine looked taken aback, "Sure, it's fine with me." Anything that got Erik involved in Ashe's life was fine with her, then again maybe that was because it also involved him in _her _life, but she was a mother first.

Erik went up the stairs and knocked on what could only be Ashe's door. It had pictures of her and her friends all over it and her name plastered in the middle. "Ashe, may I come in?"

"No." Erik could hear Ashe sniffing.

"Please, I am going to leave soon and I wanted to ask you a question."

She sighed and sniffed again, "Hold on." Erik heard the bed groan as Ashe shuffled to the door and opened it. Her mask was slightly askew and the left side of her face was blotchy. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed, and she had a tissue clutched in her hand.

As Ashe slunk back to her bed, Erik looked around at her room. It was black and white with a white comforter and black pillows. Black swirls laced the comforter and the walls were the opposite, black with white swirls. A desk was in the right corner and a pile of books sat on it, there were pictures and magazine clip outs tacked above it on a bulletin board. Erik was a bit flattered when he saw there was an article about him on her board, with a small picture that showed him scowling at he camera.

Erik pulled out the chair and sat down, facing Ashe. "Are you alright?"

"Don't ask me that." She shot him a dirty look.

"Alright, let me rephrase that question, why are you crying?"

"It's none of your business."

Erik sighed, "The question I wanted to ask you was if you wanted to ever come over to my house after school, with your mother's permission of course. I would like to get to know you better."

Ashe shrugged, "I guess so."

"Okay, well I need to leave, but here's my number and if you ever need anything call me." _That wasn't what you wanted to ask, and honestly Erik, how awkward was that?_ A little voice nagged at the back of his mind as he tacked his card on Ashe's board. "Bye Ashe."

"Bye." Ashe sounded deflated and small as Erik shut the door behind him and walked back down to Christine.

"Is everything okay?" Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked worried.

"I'm not sure, she is crying but she doesn't want to talk."

"Oh," Christine sighed.

"Yeah, but it's getting late so I need to go home." Erik shifted his weight from foot to foot as Christine got up and showed him to the door.

"Will I see you later?" Christine looked up at him.

"I hope so."

"Okay," Christine stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Erik's cheek. "Bye Erik."

"Bye Christine," Erik could barely choke out the words, and his legs seemed like jelly as he walked to his car. As soon as he got inside he thought, shocked, _What is happening to me!_


	5. Chapter Four

**AN: I'm sooo sorry this took so long, but I am starting my freshman year of highschool and I have no idea how fast chapters are going to come. But I think that study hall will be useful if I dont have much homework, so do not worry, _NOTHING WILL BE ABANDONED, _not without notice anyway. I promise. I would _never ever_ do that to my readers. I love you all. :)**

The hood of Ashe's black sweatshirt was pulled low over her eyes as she shuffled into the high school building (it was the one with the Silver High white tiger on it). Her red backpack was slung over one shoulder and it seemed to be loaded with bricks… maybe it was just the textbooks. The ear buds to her Ipod were in her ears and _Defying Gravity_ from the musical_ Wicked_ was playing (OBC of course).

"Ashe!" Hunter jogged toward her and fell into step with her. He was wearing a light blue t-shirt and black basketball shorts.

"_I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me, I still feel your touch in my dreams,"_ Ashe sang under her breath, but not quietly enough that Hunter didn't hear; he burst out laughing.

Ashe's head jerked up and her finger slipped, making the volume on her Ipod go from just right to party thumping loud. She yanked the ear buts out and swore loudly, "Hunter what are you trying to do? Blow my ears out?" She cuffed him on the back of the head.

"I'm sorry," he said, straining to keep a straight face.

Ashe huffed and muttered something before linking arms with him as they walked out of the school building.

"Hey can I borrow your cell?" She poked Hunter in the ribs.

He nodded and took it out. "Why?"

"Erik said to call him if I wanted to come over, and what do you know? Mom is working late tonight and you know how I hate to be home alone." She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the lump that rose up in her throat.

Hunter put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze, "I know."

Ashe shook herself, took a deep breath, and took out the business card that she had grabbed before she went to school. She dialed the number and it rang twice before someone picked up.

"_Hello?"_ the voice on the other end said.

"Hi, may I please speak to Erik?" She asked a little confused because the voice wasn't his but then she remembered he had a butler.

_"May I ask who is calling?"_

"It's Ashe, he wanted me to call."

_"Of course, will you hold?"_

"Sure," Ashe giggled a little as she was put on hold and listened to the music coming out of the phone. "He has hold music," she whispered to Hunter; he laughed.

_"Hello?" _Erik's deep voice sounded even deeper over the phone.

"Hi, it's Ashe."

_"Oh, hello Ashe."_

"You said to call you if I ever wanted to stop by after school, and Mom is working late and I don't really like to be home alone…" she trailed off.

_"Of course, you go to Silver High correct?"_

"Yes."

_"Alright, stay there and I will be by in about ten minutes to pick you up."_

"Cool, oh hold on a minute," Ashe covered the mouth piece and looked at Hunter, "Do you want to come?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

"Is it alright if Hunter comes? You met him the other day."

_"Of course, I will be there in ten minutes. Good bye Ashe."_

"Bye," she flipped the phone shut and handed it back to Hunter, "Thanks."

"No problemo, I will just call home and tell them I am going somewhere."

Ashe nodded and walked over to the steps and sat down, pulling out her notebook and a pen.

Two minutes later, Hunter sat down beside her, "Why are you wearing that sweatshirt?"

"Because it is cold in the building," Ashe murmured, scribbling in her book.

"Well it's kind of hot out right now isn't it?"

"I suppose so."

"Take that off before you get heat stroke."

Rolling her eyes, she finished the sentence and stripped off the sweatshirt. Underneath she was wearing a red plaid mini skirt with black lace leggings; she had layered a white tank top under a black one. Her mask was now visible in the full light and the unusually hot October sun glinted off of it. Deep red lipstick was smudged across her lips and her eyes were heavily outlined in black, matching the paint on her nails. Black Converse high tops were on her feet, they were a bit scuffed from being worn often, but they looked loved. Ashe's hair had been straightened and hung down her back, catching the light every so often, accentuating reddish brown highlights.

"Now isn't that better?"

"You know better than to interrupt me while I am writing but yes it is."

True to his word, ten minutes later, a sleek looking, black limo pulled up and the driver got out and opened the door for Erik to get out.

"Thank you Damien." He nodded toward the driver. Erik was slightly more dressed up than when he came over to the Daae's. He was wearing black slacks and a crisp white shirt. His tie was loosened and the first three buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned.

"Dude," Hunter breathed.

Ashe smiled a little and took his hand, because he seemed quite stationary at the moment, and led him to the limo. "Dang you drive in style."

"I should, after all I am a billionaire." He smiled slightly and gestured for them to get in.

Ashe pulled Hunter in after her and sat down on the cushy white seats. Erik slid in and chuckled at the two teens wide eyes as they looked around at the mini fridge and other amenities in the back.

"Is it alright?" He asked. They nodded.

If they thought that the limo was a big deal, the mansion didn't have enough words to explain it.

"Oh. My. God." Ashe stumbled out of the limo and tripped up to the front door.

She stood in the entry hallway and gazed up at the ceiling, it had cherubs floating across it and reaching for each other in a flurry of soft colors at contrasted against the dark woods. Her neck started to ache and she looked at Hunter with saucer like eyes.

Erik chuckled, "My whole home is like this."

"Like she said, Oh. My. God." Hunter's eyes were as big as Ashe's.

Erik chuckled again and ushered them into what he said was the living room. Two brown leather couches sat in the middle, separated by a coffee table. The walls were painted a deep red hue, giving the room warmth. A black grand piano was sat in one corner of the room, and in the opposite corner, there was a small cluster of burnt orange, very soft looking chairs. Ashe was not surprised to find that there was no TV, but in the place of that were large bookshelves that lined a whole wall.

"Sit," Erik gestured to the couches and Ashe and Hunter sat.

Erik walked over to the intercom by the door and pressed a button, "Damien, please bring some sodas and iced teas to the living room."

_"Certainly, sir," _came the gravely reply.

A few minutes later, Damien came in with a tray of drinks.

"Thank you Damien." Erik nodded at him as he sat the drinks on the coffee table. Damien nodded back and left.

"You have a butler." Hunter mused as he picked up a Mountain Dew.

"Yes, I do."

"You didn't know that?" Ashe asked, squeezing lemon juice into her tea.

"No," Hunter shook his head, "I didn't."

"Dork."

"Freak."

"Chicken butt."

"Monkey brains."

"Monkeys are actually quite smart you know, so I will take that as a compliment."

Hunter huffed at Ashe, then again at Erik's amused expression.

"So Ashe, how have you been?" Erik asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Pretty spiffy."

"That's good."

"Mmm."

The talking ceased momentarily and the only sound was the clinking of ice in the glasses then Erik started talking again.

"On the phone, you said you didn't like to be home alone and according to some people, that is something out of the ordinary."

Ashe swallowed and opened her mouth to speak, but Hunter jumped in, "You don't have to talk about it."

"I know," she shrugged, "it isn't that big a deal I suppose." Hunter shook his head.

"Ashe you don't have to tell me." Erik said gently.

"Good Lord, will the two of you stop patronizing me? I am going to talk about it!"

"Sorry," they both muttered.

Ashe sighed, "I used to go to South Brooke Elementary School; Mom didn't make that much money so we lived in a pretty bad part of town. One night, when I was in fifth grade, I was home alone because Mom had to work the late shift, and as soon as Mom left, the babysitter told me to cover for her and she left. At our old house, my bedroom looked straight into our neighbor's house, my bed sat right by a window.

"Anyway, after I had gotten into bed, I was having trouble going to sleep and was looking out the window. Then, I saw some guys sneak into the house and I knew they weren't good news but I was scared so I stayed still. I could see them walking through the house and searching for something.

"Now my window was straight across from Jessie's room, she was sixteen at the time and usually babysat her little brother while her parents were at work. I could also see into Sammy's room, he was the baby. I could just barely make out his crib.

"But I saw the four creeps go into Jessie's room where I presume she was doing her homework. As soon as they came into her room, she dropped her homework and started screaming for help. Sammy woke up and stood up in his crib and started crying." Ashe's voice broke as tears started to trickle down her cheeks. Hunter put his arm around her shoulders and made soft, comforting noises.

"I could see Jessie talking to the guys and they kept slapping her around. They finally pinned her to the bed and raped her. At ten, I watched a girl get gang raped…

"My window was still shut and locked, but I could still hear her and the baby screaming.

"Then after they finished with her, they went into Sammy's room…" Ashe looked down at her lap and murmured the last part, "You never know how cruel and twisted the world is till you see someone murder a baby." She swallowed and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

"But when Mom came home, I was absolutely hysterical and she called the police and we moved out her the next day."

"Ashe, you didn't need to tell me that." Erik said softly.

"You didn't make me."

They all sat in silence till the ringing of Hunter's cell phone startled them all.

"Hello?" he answered. On the other end, someone chattered at a frantic pace. While the person was still talking, he handed the phone to Ashe.

She gave him a puzzled look, "Hello?"

_"WHERE ARE YOU?"_

Ashe cringed as she recognized her mother's voice, "At Erik's house."

_"Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I called home, I called school, I even called your grandfather!" _Christine shouted.

"I'm sorry Mom." Ashe said softly. Hunter had to stifle a laugh as he watched Ashe hit her head with the heel of her palm.

_"I was going to take you out for pizza too."_

"Can you still?"

_"I don't really have any other options do I? We don't have anything at home."_

"Can anyone else come?"

Christine sighed, _"I suppose so. But I don't know where to pick you all up."_

"Erik, give Mom directions to your house." Ashe handed Erik the phone. "Hunter, can you come out for dinner?"

"What time is it?"

"Quarter after five."

"Yeah, I just have to be home by seven thirty."

"Yay!" Ashe clapped and watched her father giving her mom directions. _He's glowing…_


	6. Chapter Five

_AN: Oh em gee. I am so so so sorry for the MONTH LONG WAIT! I am so serious, IDEA english is kicking my butt! I have so much to do and like no time to do it. I cannot apologize enough to all of you. I am so sorry!_

_Okay, now that's over, I have a Hercules quote in here (don't own that movie!) see if you can find it. For some reason, I have always wanted to use this _somewhere_ so I saw this as the perfect opportunity to do it. :)_

_Read on Phantom lovers, read on. _

_oh and sorry about the shortness also. I do hope you like it anyway.

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Ashe sighed and leaned back against the leather seats of her mother's car. Erik has insisted that they ride in his car, but Christine disagreed.

"You never know what kind of people you are going to get. They could break into your car. If they broke into mine," she waved her hand, "Insurance money,"

"But Christine-"  
"Erik," she interrupted, "If you do not stop, I will duct tape your mouth shut, hog tie you, and throw you in the trunk till we get there." Erik snapped his mouth shut.

Ashe giggled a little as she watched her parents banter back and forth about the current war on terrorism.

"They are so silly," she whispered to Hunter; he smiled a little and shrugged. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," Hunter smiled a little too brightly. Ashe's brow furrowed but she just leaned against his side and put her head on his shoulder. Hunter sighed and wrapped an arm around Ashe and rested his cheek on her hair. Neither knew much about the other's problems but they both drew on the closeness of the other for comfort.

Erik looked in the rear view mirror at Hunter and Ashe; he nudged Christine a little and gestured toward the back seat.

"Hm?" Christine looked up, "Oh, yeah." She looked back at the road and pulled into Pizza King.

"Do they do that a lot?" a wave of protectiveness washed over Erik as he got out of the car and watched Ashe shove Hunter and laugh.

"Yes they do," Christine locked the car and smiled up at Erik over the hood of the car.

"What?"

She shook her head a little, "Nothing, I just think you are going to be a good dad."

"Mom!" Ashe turned around, "Aunt Meg and Uncle Raoul are here!" She pointed toward the door of the restaurant. A moderately tall man opened the door for his wife, who was juggling a giggling four year old and a large drink while her husband carried a box of pizza.

"Meg!" Christine called to her friend. Meg lifted her drink in greeting and said something to Raoul before walking over.

"Is that Meg Giry?" Erik asked.

"De Changy now, but yes," Christine affirmed.

Meg had matured into a curvaceous, modestly dressing woman. Her husband, Raoul, still had longish blonde hair but his hairline was beginning to recede just a bit. Meg had soft, motherly edges that contrasted with Raoul's chiseled muscles her strove to keep in shape.

Meg's eyes widened as she saw Erik and his familiar mask and she took in the rest of the picture till her eyes were as big as saucers. He shifted uncomfortably, lacing his hands behind him.

Ashe took four year old Derrick from his mom and he squealed happily. "Aunt Meg, this is my father, Erik Destler."

"Wow," was all Meg could say.

Christine reached behind Erik and grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. His breath caught in his throat as heat seared his nerve endings at the barest touch of Christine's hand.

"Erm," Erik coughed a little, hoping to fill the silence with any noise he could make.

"Mom, we are _hungry_!" Ashe whined.

Christine sighed and rolled her eyes, "Meg I will talk to you later. Give Raoul a hug for me."

Meg laughed, hugged Christine warmly, and took Derrick back to the car.

"Finally," Ashe took Hunter's hand, dragging him inside. What she didn't see was his face turning pink from his collar to the very tips of his ears.

"I didn't even talk to her for two minutes…" Christine muttered, causing Erik to chuckle a little.

The classically clichéd pimply teenager led the four to their table. "Do you know how to use the speaker box?" His voice was nasal and coated in mucus. Disgusting.

Ashe affirmed with a shake of her head.

"What can we get you to drink?"

"Sprite."

"Root beer."

"Iced tea, please."

"Water, please." They all ordered their drinks and when the waiter left, Ashe gagged.

"It looked like he had a fungus growing on his face! Ew!"

"Ashe, that is mean." Christine said with a raised eyebrow.

"It's true though." Erik muttered.

"What?" Christine yelped, laughing. Ashe and Hunter started snickering as Erik looked on shaking his head.

Ten minutes later, Erik was enjoying the crushed ice in his cup and Christine had ordered their pizza, all they had to do was wait.

"Mom, can we go play video games for a while?" Ashe sighed, lifting her head up from the table where it had been resting. She was _so_ bored.

"I suppose so. I will come get you when the pizza comes." Christine handed them a handful of quarters and they scrambled out of the booth like five year olds.

"She seems happy around him." Erik mused.

"Yes I suppose she is." Christine smiled. "You seem stuck on the fact Ashe has a close friend who is a boy, why is that?"

"I- I don't know," Erik spluttered. "I mean the few times I have seen her, the majority of them, she has been with him. Then again it has only been around three times and one of them she was with her band, but he came over early. And shouldn't she have more girl friends? It can't be natural for a girl her age to hang around with only boys. There are only two girls in her band counting her."

"Erik, when I was her age, I wish I had as many guy friends. Girls can be spiteful and hateful and are so unbalanced it isn't funny." Christine sighed, "I wish you could have seen her when she was little. She came home crying almost everyday because the girls made fun of her."

Erik hung his head a little.

"It isn't your fault. I said don't stop." Christine stroked Erik's cheek and then turned his head so he faced her and she touched the mask. He jerked back and she let her hand drop into her lap. "It isn't as bad as you think it is. I mean, if your's is anything like Ashe's anyway. What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know. You don't think everything was a mistake?" He sighed and looked into her eyes.

"If you call that a mistake, out of all the mistakes that I have ever, _ever_ made that was the best one in my entire life." Christine leaned in a little.

"I-" Erik sighed again, "Thank you Christine."

"Don't thank me Erik."

"But what isn't there to thank you for?"

"A lot of things, I'm not perfect you know."

_You are perfect for me, _Erik thought, he looked down blushing.

"What are you blushing at?"

When Erik looked up, he was surprised to find Christine's face _centimeters_ away from his. "Uh… um…" he stuttered; she chuckled, a deep throaty sound in the back of her throat.

"Are you always this articulate?"

Erik gulped, "No?" His voice came out in a strange falsetto.

Christine laughed again and leaned in more, one of her hands was on his shoulder, the other curling around his neck. "Are you going to just leave me here?"

Realization dawned on Erik, it was his choice. Was he going to kiss Christine?

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_How slightly evil am I?_


	7. Chapter Six

**It's short. I know. I just didnt have a whole heck of a lot to say on this one. The whole kissing thing was what I was worried about. But go ahead and read. :))**

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Erik's breathing quickened and he blinked a few times. _Kiss Christine you fool._ His mind berated him. _This is what you have wanted to do for years. You found the girl. Kiss her you fool._

Sometime in between Erik's realization and his decision, Christine's eyes had slid shut. They opened slowly and disappointment slid over them; she leaned back and covered her face with a hand. Then she sighed and looked at Erik. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Christine," her took her hand and pressed a feathery kiss to her knuckles. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should apologize."

"What in the world for?"

"I want to kiss you Christine."

Christine shook her head confused, "Then why didn't you?"

"Because I am afraid to I suppose."

"Erik, that doesn't make any sense."

"Try being in my head…" he sighed. "It doesn't make much sense to me either but I know how I feel. I suppose I don't want to end up letting anyone down or there is the fact that I was piss drunk when I kissed anyone for the first and last time. I haven't ever done anything with anyone but you Christine, and I don't want to screw up what I think is developing right now. Maybe we should try and take it slow."

Christine laughed a little, "Slow? Maybe that is a good idea. Fast is what got us Ashe, but without her, I don't think we would have met up."

Erik was silent for a moment, "Do you regret what we did?"

Christine shook her head without a second thought, "No. I never have. I admit that I made a mistake. We both had a lapse in judgment; but, like I said, this was the best mistake I have ever made in my life and never have I once regretted it."

Erik's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. "Good neither have I."

Smiling, Christine interlaced their fingers, leaned against his shoulder, and sighed. Minutes later, the pimply faced waiter came with their pizza.

"Here," he said. "If you need anything just call."

"Thank you," Erik averted his eyes and looked at Christine who had a perfectly straight face.

"What?" She asked.

He laughed and shook his head.

"I suppose I will go and get the kids," Christine said. Erik nodded and slid to the side to let her out. "Be right back."

He nodded again and tried to fight back the warmth that surged in his veins. _This is only a dream. Temporary even. None of this is real._

"Pizza, pizza, pizza," Ashe drew in a breath before taking a greasy square of the pepperoni pizza and biting into it. "Eep!"

"It's hot." Hunter finished for her. "Yes, love, it is." He adopted a fake English accent.

"Poppet," Ashe muttered around the mouthful of ice she had in her mouth, which was now _freezing_.

Christine shook her head and picked up her slice of pizza and blotted the grease off, then smothered it in parmesan cheese.

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the taste?" Erik asked.

"You have never watched _Gilmore Girls_ have you?"

"What?"

"It's the secret to making everything better. Drown it in cheese." Christine wrinkled her nose and bit into it.

Everyone was scarfing down their second piece when Erik hadn't even touched his first.

"Is something wrong?" Ashe asked.

Erik shrugged, "No, it just looks like it will clog my arteries within minutes."

Hunter snorted, causing Ashe to laugh, then Christine, and then Erik even joined in the round of laughing. "What?" He asked.

"Yeah it may, but it sure tastes good." Hunter replied, taking another huge bite.

"Here, try this piece." Christine picked up the coveted piece that caused Ashe and Hunter to moan with jealousy. The one piece of the pizza that was mostly crust and cut into a triangle was the piece that they always had to fight over. Usually there was more than one, but this time the piece was miniscule and it was a seemingly sick ritual they had to go through to get it.

"Um," Erik stuttered, looking at the cheese that seemed more grease than substance.

"It's good," Ashe crossed her heart. "Promise."

"Here comes the plane," Christine said in a baby voice, making plane noises. "Open your mouth like a good boy, come on. Yeah, now isn't that yummy?"

Erik chewed uncertainly for a moment. Then his eyes lit up and he picked up the biggest slice before taking a huge bite out of it, finishing that piece and picking up another.

"Told you so." Hunter smiled a little.

"Oh, Hunter, what time do you have to be home?" Christine looked at him.

A stricken look crossed his face for a moment, "No specific time." He shrugged.

"Oh, okay," Christine shrugged.

"You told me seven thirty." Ashe whispered out of the side of her mouth.

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows instead of shrugging. "Whatever."

"Hunter."

"What?"

"Is there something you aren't telling me? Because if there is, I would really like to know."

"Nothing right now, I just don't feel like going home." Hunter's voice had a hard edge to it, and Ashe knew better than to say anything.

"Alright." She took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed before saying quietly, "You know you can always crash at our place right? I mean that is what the guest room is for."

"That just may come in handy some time soon."

Ashe sighed and leaned back, "Full. Oh so full."

"Well… we can get a box and put it in there." Christine said.

"Okie." Ashe started bouncing and giggling at Hunter poking her in the side.

"You are making me bounce."

"Aack." Ashe only started to poke him back.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Yay for updates! Here is my present to you all over the holidays. Hope you have a happy one, which ever you celebrate!**

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Ashe rolled her neck from side to side as she tried to stay awake in study hall. The girl to her left was painting her nails a lurid green color and the guy to her right… well his hand was otherwise occupied. _EW_.

Staring down at the lyrics she had written, Ashe sighed. They were seriously lacking. Sure the lines had rhyme and rhythm but they lacked passion; and the music was disgustingly normal. She had never written something so bland and lackluster. Shaking her head, Ashe wrote a big "HELP" on the top and folded it, shoving it in the pocket of her hoodie.

The bell rang and she got up stiffly. All the kids herded out the door and pounded down the stairs or across the hall to their various classes. It was almost second semester and Ashe was still getting stares from her peers in the hallway; a lump still rose up in her throat as she clutched her binder to her chest.

_You should be used to this after fourteen years_, she berated herself. In her view, she should be past caring. Maybe she did because she had people who didn't care. Whatever the reason, Ashe cared; she cared a lot.

She walked into the cafeteria and set her books down in her normal spot then walked toward the lines trying to decide if she really wanted that rice and chicken. Shrugging, Ashe just went into that line. After she had gotten her food, she paid, got her cookie, and went to her table where Aimee was already sitting.

"Ello," Aimee mumbled past her chewed up pizza. Ashe only sat down with a thud and poured the sauce over her rice, scowling.

"What crawled up your butt?" Aimee asked after swallowing.

"People are so stupid," Ashe snapped.

"I'm confused," Aimee confessed. Ashe pointed at her mask and Aimee frowned in sympathy and brushed back a lock of pink and purple hair. "I'm sorry Ashe. Your friends don't care. Your mom doesn't care either. I should hope that we are all that matters."

"Who is all that matters?" David sat down and Jay, who had followed David, followed suit.

"People were staring again," Aimee explained as Ashe just stared darkly at her food.

"Asheypoo!" Hunter sat down next to Ashe and frowned. "Why the long face?" Aimee just explained it again and Hunter's frown deepened.

A giggle was heard from the table in front of Ashe's and she looked up to see Danielle Jamison looking straight at her and laughing. The blonde was not a good friend of Ashe's. In fact Danielle, or Dani as she was known to the rest of the school, was the one person who despised Ashe the most. And, she was the current girlfriend of Kyle Torelli, the one guy that Ashe had a huge crush on. That small fact made her hate "Dani" even more.

"Ignore them," Jay muttered, pushing back his black hair and shoveling more food into his mouth.

"I will gladly switch faces with you," Ashe said coolly. Jay just mumbled something and looked back at his food.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Why are you so upset about it?" Hunter asked. "I thought you had gotten over it to _some_ extent."

"So did I, can we just stop talking about it?"

"Whatever," David shrugged.

Hunter gave Ashe a one armed hug and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. He always knew the right thing to do.

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Ashe fiddled with the rings on her fingers. Today they were mostly just silver bands, maybe the occasional pink stone. Classes were boring as all get out and the stares in the hallways seemed ominous for some reason. It really bothered her. 

Laughing dismally, Ashe cursed whoever had messed up her school records when she had transferred. Ashe was stuck in French I. She was practically _fluent_ in French. Needless to say, she had well above a hundred percent. She let her head fall to her desk with a dull thump.

"Ashe, sit up. You know you aren't allowed to do that in class. If you would like to sleep I can send you down to the Dean's office and you can do it there." Mlle. Landry said, tapping a ruler on Ashe's desk.

Mlle. Landry was disliked for many reasons. For one she still carried around a ruler, tapping it menacingly against her palm whenever a child acted up in class. She must have been dismayed when children couldn't be rapped on the hands. Landry was really that ancient. Ashe wondered if Mlle. Landry's palm was bruised because the class was so rowdy.

Landry wore the strangest outfits and she often had some sort of dead animal around her neck. And she spoke with such a thick accent it was no wonder that most of the kids in her class were failing.

"Aucun merci ma'am," Ashe declined the invitation to the Dean's office and just propped her head up on her fist, watching minutes tick by until the clock read two thirty and the dismissal bell rang.

When it finally did, Ashe gathered up her stuff and pulled her hood over her head. Her locker was not far away from her French class so she quickly changed out her books and went to the spot where Hunter, Aimee, David, Jay, and she met every day after school.

"Lo," she said.

"So are we practicing at your place tonight again?" Aimee asked brightly, a little too brightly if you asked Ashe.

"I suppose. I don't get why you all don't just come over and do homework and crap."

"Do you really think we would get any homework done? I mean Jay is failing French as is." David pointed out, earning a quick punch in the gut.

"I have what grade in French again?" Ashe prompted.

"A one hundred and ten, we know," the whole band chorused.

"So I could help. Aimee you could help Hunter with geometry, David you can help me with bio and Hunter you can just get help." She smiled sarcastically. "Besides, you know how well stocked my refrigerator is."

Aimee linked arms with Ashe, "I'm always up for some cookie dough and ice cream." Hunter shrugged and David and Jay (never making a decision without each other) nodded.

"Alrighty then," Ashe steered the group toward the door and down the street to her house.

After she had punched the code to the garage keypad, she let everyone in the house and sent them up to her room. She grabbed the necessary food items and pounded up to her room.

"Okay, barbeque chips for Hunterkins, salt and vinegar chips for Jay, original chips for David, and cookie dough and ice cream for Aimee and me. Don't worry Aims; I brought two bottles of Hershey's syrup." Aimee laughed as Ashe threw the bags of chips at their respective "owners."

"Finals suck," Jay stated after about half an hour.

"And you just conjugated that verb wrong." Ashe pointed out snapping off a piece of a Twizzler she had gotten out of her desk. Jay cursed.

"I don't get it Jay," David said, "You can cuss just fine in French, Italian, German, and even Japanese. But you can't get verbs right?"

Jay muttered something in French, earning a well-deserved slap from Ashe.

"Potty mouth."

Later, Ashe heard the door open and she yelled, "In my room!" Christine walked into the room and plopped down cross-legged and took away Ashe's spoon, scooping up some ice cream for herself.

"Ello," She said through the ice cream. "Ashe, Erik is coming over for dinner."

"That would be how many nights in a row?" Hunter asked.

"Going on a week," Ashe answered.

"_Dance to this beat,_" Aimee sang under her breath, causing the band to start cracking up and Christine just looked confused.

"Whatever," she stood up and brushed off her pants by habit, "Are you guys staying for dinner or not?"

"We have band practice,"Ashe said. "The Battle is coming up, and we need to practice. Do you think Erik would help us a little?"

"I don't see why not. But he will be he will be here in about half an hour so finish studying then we will have dinner and you can practice. Okay?"

"Yup," they all chorused.

True to form, Erik was at the Daae's house promptly at six. He knocked on the door and tried to calm the beating of his heart.

_Every damn night_, he thought. Every time he came over for dinner, his heart would pound out a mating song that he wasn't so sure Christine couldn't hear. His chest would clench up and he couldn't breathe, and then his stomach would start to whirl and he never knew if he could actually keep his food down. _And I thought I was past the hormonal teenage stage._

Christine opened the door looking stunning as usual wearing a "kiss the cook" apron over a little blue and cream striped shirtdress with an empire waistline, "Sorry, I haven't gotten a chance to change. I got home from work late." She grinned sheepishly and took the rose Erik had brought, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"You look stunning," Erik said, following her into the kitchen; his body agreed in a most painful way.

"The band is upstairs; they are going to finish studying then practice."

"Are they going to be eating with us?"

"Who in the world knows with those people?" Christine laughed and returned to tending to her hamburger patties.

Thirty minutes later, hamburgers were out on the table with all the toppings and a hot plate of corn on the cob. The smell coaxed out the teenagers and they tumbled down the stairs, shoving for a seat at the table.

Christine looked at Erik and shrugged, "I guess not."

They said grace and ate relatively quickly then the band went into the garage to practice. As the adults cleaned up, the strains of Ashe and Hunter warming up their voices and Aimee plucking out a few chords came through the walls before they actually started rehearsing.

"Do they know what they are doing for the Battle?" Erik asked as he put the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

Christine shook her head, "No, I think they were hoping for your help in that area."

"My help?"

Christine nodded, "Yes _your help_."

"Oh."

"Would you like to go in there now? I can finish on my own."

"I don't want to-"

"Go on." Christine snapped the towel she was drying with at him and shooed him into the garage.

Jumping a bit, Erik went into the garage. The band stopped playing and he clapped his hands together, "Alright all, what did you need my help with?"

Twenty minutes later, Christine was sitting on the couch sipping a cup of coffee and Erik came into the room with a mug of his own.

Christine lifted an eyebrow at the milky color of his coffee, "I always figured you for a straight drinker."

Erik laughed a deep throaty chuckle, "No."

"It does taste better with cream and sugar in it doesn't it?" Christine took a sip of her coffee.

Erik nodded, "Yes it does." An all too familiar stirring began again in his stomach as he eyed the drop of milky coffee on Christine's lip. He didn't know what the heck he was doing there on her couch and staring at her lips. No idea.

Christine ran her tongue over her lips to catch the stray drop and Erik's gaze slid up to her eyes. Her brown eyes were smoldering and full of questions. "Erik?" She asked.

He stared at her for a few more moments, memorizing every contour of her face and the dip of her neck as it joined her shoulders. Wordlessly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

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**Please Review!!**


	9. Chapter Eight

**I hate school. It serves only to make me learn (Yeah I know... Sadly I know school is important.), make me bored out of my head, _and_ school crunches my time and I can't write! **

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Christine jumped in shock, causing her coffee to slosh around a bit in her mug. Erik's lips were soft but firm, and after he put his mug down, he placed both hands on the curve of her hip. His breath tasted like coffee; it was strange but not unpleasant.

It seemed only a moment later that Erik pulled away, his eyes were dark and smoldering but then they turned to shocked, "I'm sorry Christine, I should have never done that. I didn't ask. I apologize."

She held up a finger, "Don't you dare apologize."

"But-"

"Sh," Christine put down her mug and wound her arms around Erik's neck. "Do you realize…" she broke off and shook her head, leaning in to kiss him again, but the phone ringing interrupted.

Christine sighed and leaned her forehead against Erik's, "I need to get that." With a heave, she got up and went into the other room with Erik at her heels.

"Hello?" She raised her eyebrows at Erik. He smiled a little and took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist while half listening to the side of the conversation he could hear.

When Christine put the phone down her face was full of distress. Erik drew his eyebrows together, "What happened?"

"They are reopening the rape and murder case," Christine murmured; Erik nodded to show he knew what she was talking about. "They have taken Joe into custody until the trial. It was Marla on the phone, his wife. She is in hysterics."

"What?"

Erik and Christine turned around to see Ashe hanging in the doorway with Hunter behind her, clutching at the wooden molding like her life depended on it.

"They need you to testify at the trial since you were the witness to the murder. Jessie is still recovering at a… mental ward in the hospital." Christine leaned into Erik.

"They need me to testify against Uncle Joe?" Ashe asked faintly.

"Well he didn't do it so wouldn't you be testifying in favor of Joe?" Her mother asked.

Ashe let out a faint "oh" and promptly collapsed in a heap at Hunter's feet.

When Ashe reopened her eyes, she was laying in her bed with her band and parents around her. "What happened?" She asked huskily.

"You fainted," Christine answered, wringing out a wet washcloth and putting it on her daughter's forehead.

"Is Uncle Joe really in jail?"

"That's what Marla said. She said he is in custody anyway."

Erik stood in the doorway with a frown on his face. Something wasn't right here, but he just couldn't decide what. He knew for a fact that Christine's brother was an awful man… but murder? Of a baby? He shook his head and walked out of the room, soon followed by the band and Christine.

"Well I suppose we should all head home," Aimee said quietly.

"I'll drive you guys home," Christine offered. "Erik, do you mind staying home with Ashe?"

He shook his head and smiled, "No, I'll just go up there until you get back. A dazed brunette nodded and herded the kids out the door and into her car.

Erik took the steps two at a time until he reached Ashe's room. He was startled to find Ashe rolled onto her side, sobbing with her mask on her bedside table. "Hey," he said softly.

A hand snaked out from the ball Ashe was curled into and grabbed her mask, putting it on quickly. "What?"

"You know you don't really need to put that on around me. I have the same face and I bet you don't wear it when it's only you and your mom. Do you?"

Ashe shook her head and sat up, "No, but it's on right now anyway so taking it off would be a little… pointless." She sighed and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" Erik asked.

With a bark of laugh, the masked girl shook her head, "Want to talk about? Yeah, oh yeah there is. But I can't. Most of it cannot be changed so what is the point of talking about things that cannot be helped?"

"Well sometimes it just takes a weight off your shoulders," reaching out, Erik laid his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Trust me on that one."

Ashe shook her head, "Thanks, but I don't think it would help. No amount of anything will change the fact I cannot ever get a part in a school play. And no amount of anything will change the fact Danielle Jamison is an absolute witch." She sighed, "No nothing will ever change."

"Why can't you get the part in a play?"

"Seriously?" Ashe raised her visible eyebrow. And when Erik nodded, she took off her mask, "This is why. I have half a face and no makeup is going to change the fact my eye is misshapen and my bones are an absolute mess, and this part of my face is so sensitive anyway that if you put makeup on it I may have some sort of a mass allergic reaction and die. But you know, maybe that would be better. What do you think? You've had to deal with it your whole life. Haven't you ever contemplated the fact death would be a welcome alternative to this hellish life? Being made fun of even though everyone has seen you since middle school? They still aren't over the walking freak show?

"That's what I am. I am a goddamn _walking freak show_!"

"That is a cop out Ashe," Erik said sternly. He got up stiffly and walked over to her bulletin board and pointed at the picture of him, "Do you think I got where I am now lying in bed and crying about how my face looks? No I sure as hell didn't. I looked at it as a challenge that I had to overcome. It would be a hard one, but I knew I was strong enough to do it.

"I didn't have the support system you do. My father used to beat me until my teachers at school noticed I came to school with a dislocated shoulder and a broken nose. My mom was an alcoholic for most of her life. And I was the rejected child no one in their high society life knew about. They told their friends that I was still born. I didn't get to go to that fancy private school that they would have sent me to if I was normal looking. They even registered me in school under a different name. That way, they could make sure no one knew about me."

"What happened to your parents?" Ashe asked quietly.

"My dad overdosed when I was seventeen and my mom is in a rehab center in Nevada."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So don't you go saying that your life is awful. You have your mom, and now you have me. I need you to trust me Ashe."

"I do."

"Okay. I'm going to go home now. I will be back tomorrow. Goodnight Ashe," Erik kissed his daughter's forehead softly.

"Goodnight."

Erik leaned against the wall after he had closed Ashe's door behind him. With a sigh, he took off his mask and rubbed his face. He felt terrible. To think that he had passed on a curse to a child was more than he could bear. It was unknown if Ashe would have normal looking children because apparently, it was genetic. The thing he didn't understand though was that his mother, father, and grandparents hadn't had the deformity.

Upon hearing the door open and close, Erik put his mask back on and went downstairs to greet a white-faced Christine.

"I cannot believe that Joe is in jail," she murmured.

Erik enveloped her in a hug, lending support and kissed the top of her head gently, "I know. I know."

"I just don't understand," Christine muttered into Erik's shirt. Erik could feel the front of his shirt beginning to get a little damp, and when Christine looked up, her face was stained with tears.

"Oh Christine," Erik murmured.

"Just kiss me. Please?"

More than happy to oblige, Erik gently trailed his lips across Christine's forehead and over each of her eyelids. He kissed the two tears that were tracing down her face before bringing his lips to hers. Warmth ignited in his belly and spread out to the very tips of his fingers. This was where he felt he belonged.

Christine rose up until she was on her toes, leaning against Erik for support. One arm had wound around his neck and she had her other hand resting gently on his chest. But after a few seconds, she didn't want a sweet, gentle kiss. Taking her hand off Erik's chest, she wound her fingers into his hair and drew him more tightly to her body. She started walking backward until she reached the couch and gently drew him down with her. His weight resting partially on top of her was the most glorious feeling in the world.


End file.

Phantom of the Opera