Okay, So I'm doing something a little funky here. This is the last chapter in the story, but there will be another post. How is this possible, you ask? Well, I want to take my time and write a really steamy, sexy love scene for Erik and Christine. I will post that as sort of an epilogue. Expect it sometime next week, probably earlier.

But for now, enjoy…



The dark music that had been pounding underneath Christine's feet for the past hour or so suddenly came to a halt, followed by a sharp bellow from Erik and the sound of a glass shattering.

Christine closed her eyes tightly.


Just as the child's name passed through her thoughts, the cellar door flew open, a very dirty and frightened little boy immediately clinging to her skirts.

"I'm sorry Mama!" The four year old exclaimed, his voice muffled by the folds of her clothing. "I was just looking at Papa's mirror!"

Erik suddenly appeared at the cellar door, his unmasked face carrying a look of exasperation.

"What happened?" Christine asked him.

"Somehow," Erik said, looking directly at Dominick who promptly buried his face in his mother's skirts again, "one of the mirrors downstairs shattered."

"Oh Dominick," Christine said, holding her young son's face in her hands. "Why must you constantly meddle in your father's affairs?"

Her voice was warm; she expected nothing less of her precocious son.

"I'm not mettling, Mama," Dominick informed her. "I'm helping!"

Erik scoffed. "Helping," he repeated sarcastically.

Dominick turned his smooth face to his father's, his lower lip pouting out just slightly. "Are you angry with me, Papa?"

Erik forced his face to remain stonily parental.

"Oh, very," he said, winking at Christine over Dominick's head. "I fear your punishment shall be terrible."

Dominick's eyes went wide. "What will you do to me?" He asked, sounding perfectly horrified.

Erik placed his hand upon his chin, as if deep in thought. Slowly, he walked towards his only child.

Dominick backed up a bit.

"Come here, Dominick," Erik said, his voice sounding terse.

Dominick hung his head, walking over to his father, who stooped down.

Erik placed a finger under the boy's chin, turning his saddened face up to his.

"Are you ready for your punishment?" He asked the child.

Dominick nodded miserably.

Then, without warning, Erik scooped the child into his arms, quickly moving Dominick's shirt up and blowing a raspberry against his round tummy.

Dominick shattered into a million laughing pieces, begging his father for mercy.

"Papa!" He shrieked between laughs, "Papa! Stop!"

"Your punishment has just begun!" Erik roared, pulling off one of Dominick's shoes and tickling the tiny toes furiously.

Dominick's laughter intensified until finally Erik flopped him down onto a sofa, where the child lay sweating, laughing, and completely out of breath.

"Now," Erik said, turning suddenly to Christine. "It's time for your punishment," he told her, moving slowly towards her like a lion stalking its prey.

"My punishment?" Christine squeaked, backing up a bit. "What on earth did I do?"

"Ah…but you are almost entirely to blame for the smashed mirror," Erik told her. "For wasn't it you that sent Dominick down to the cellar in the first place?"

Christine blushed. Damn Erik and his incredible hearing abilities! He had no doubt heard a frustrated Christine telling Dominick to go "bother his father" after he had knocked over an entire package of flour in the kitchen while his mother was baking.

"I just didn't want him to get burned by the oven," Christine said quickly, trying to dodge the blame.

"The oven that was never turned on?" Erik countered.


Erik took Christine's moment of defeat as the perfect opportunity to strike, capturing his shrieking wife and tickling her ribs pitilessly.

As he tickled her to the floor, Erik felt a rejuvenated Dominick jump on his back, giving his father a dose of his own medicine.

Erik easily removed the boy's tiny fingers from his waist and flung him gently down next to his mother.

"An ambush?" Erik roared dramatically. "Well, if it's war you want, it's war the two of you shall have!"

Christine and Dominick could have died from laughing as one of Erik's hands tickled each of them.

Erik and Christine stood in the doorway of their sleeping son's bedroom contained within their simple house in the Paris countryside.

"He is much more manageable like this," Erik commented.

Christine laughed quietly as she regarded her son, who had fallen asleep mid-play in one of his many chests of toys.

She watched as Erik slowly moved towards the sleeping child, lifting him gently and placing him in his bed.

She watched as Erik's hand smoothed over the boy's dark hair in silent adoration.

She leaned her head on the doorframe, smiling at Erik as he walked back over to her.

"He's unlike anyone I've ever met…so stubborn…such a trouble maker!" Erik commented.

"He's exactly like someone I've met," Christine said, looking Erik pointedly in the eyes.

Erik smirked. "Don't talk about yourself like that, darling."

Christine shoved him playfully.

As they walked back to their bedroom, Christine stopped just before the doorway.

She looked up at him. "Perhaps the new baby won't be such a handful."

Erik looked down at her, his eyes scanning hers slowly.

"Another?" Erik asked, his voice tight.

Tears sprang to Christine's eyes as she nodded.

Erik immediately embraced her, his arms nearly crushing her out of happiness. "Lord help us all if it's a girl," he said wondrously. "If she is half as beautiful as you, there will be nothing I would deny her."

"I love you," Christine said.

And Erik believed her.