The Tie That Binds

By The Lark

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. I'm just temporarily stealing its characters for my own twisted purposes.

Christine Daae blinked her eyes groggily as the chloroform wore off, and she awoke to find herself slung over the shoulder of the Phantom of the Opera. "Not again, Erik!"

"Christine! You're awake already?" Erik hopped out of the boat, which had just pulled up to his home beneath the opera house, and sat her on her feet. "Stupid chloroform! I knew I shouldn't have switched brands at a time like this."

She sighed wearily. "Erik, I don't have time to be kidnapped again right now. Raoul and I are getting married on Monday, and I still haven't finished booking the hall, ordering the flowers, or picking a little plastic bride and groom for the top of the cake. Not to mention the fact that I can't get anything done because I'm being pestered every five seconds by some idiot reporter trying to offer me a book deal about my whole ordeal with you. And Raoul doesn't help matters any. He keeps trying to talk me into having a military wedding. Oh, he tries to pretend it's because he's devoted to the Navy, but I know he's really just trying to get out of wearing the tux I picked out for him."

"You see, this is why you should have married me. I was planning on eloping."

"Not this again…"

Erik held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Just promise you'll hear me out for a minute, and if you still want to after you listen to what I have to say, you can leave."

Christine grudgingly nodded her head. "All right."

Smiling nervously, Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, rolled up and tied with a black ribbon. "I've spent the past three weeks putting together a list of reasons why you should leave the boy and marry me instead."

She groaned miserably. "Erik…"

"You promised!" He untied the ribbon and unrolled the list. It was at least twenty feet long.

"If I stay here long enough to listen to all that, I'll miss my wedding!"

"That's the idea." He smirked triumphantly. "Now, let's see…" He skimmed to the top of his list. "Reason number one, I'm a mechanical genius, so I'd be really good at fixing stuff around the house. Number two, I've already got a ring and a dress. Number three, you think I'm hot--"

"Hey!"

"Don't try to deny it! We all saw you during 'Point of No Return'! Number four, I look really really cool when I swirl my cape around." He twirled with a flourish to demonstrate. "Number five--"

But he was interrupted as Raoul de Chagny rode up behind him on a white horse and smacked him with a glove. "Hands off the lady, bucko, or I'll shove you in your own giant oven!"

Erik glared daggers at the vicomte. "Not you again! And how did you get that horse across the lake? Just back off, kid, Christine promised me she'd listen to what I had to say before she left."

"I heard the whole thing!" Raoul dismounted, storming toward the Phantom, looking as angry and full of loathing as his innocent-blond-choirboy good looks allowed. "I heard you trying to poison her with that awful list of yours. So I've started a list of my own reasons for why Christine should stay with me!" He pulled a notebook out of his pocket. "Number one, I happen to be emotionally stable. Number two, I look cute in a uniform…"

Erik, not to be outdone, resumed reading his own list rather loudly. "Number five, I have great hair…"

"Number three, you know what my last name is…"

Christine looked apologetically at Erik. "He makes a strong point there. If I marry you, for all I know, I could be becoming Madame Christine Henzerdorffer."

Desperate to regain the lead, Erik began to rattle his list off at light speed. "Number six, all women love a bad boy! Number seven, my deformity isn't all that bad, at least in the new film…"

"Number four, I keep risking my life to save you from stalker-boy over here…"

"Number eight, I can say 'yes dear' in thirty different languages…"

"Number five, I'll give you a cookie!"

Christine placed herself between the phantom and the vicomte, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Boys, boys, boys. We've been over this before. Erik, I love you as a friend and all, but I just don't want to marry you, and all the kidnappings in the world aren't going to change my mind."

"Oh." Erik's head drooped gloomily for a moment, until suddenly his eyes lit up again. "Would it change your mind if I gave up golf?" He gestured toward the astro-turfed golf course he'd built on the far side of the lake.

"That's it! I'm through trying to be patient!" Raoul whipped out a set of handcuffs and cuffed the Phantom's Punjab-ing hand securely to his own. "You're not getting away this time. I'm taking you to the cops. Your days of kidnapping my future wife and trying to brainwash her are through for good!" He patted Christine's hand comfortingly.

"Ha!" snorted Erik. You don't really think you can capture someone of my skill with some stupid party favor, do you?" Erik pulled one of his many lock picks out of his pocket and jammed it into the lock. To his surprise, however, it refused to budge. He wiggled the pin frantically. "What the--? What's wrong with these things?"

Christine was amazed. In his efforts to impress her, Erik had magicked his way out of locked chests six feet underground, weighted shackles at the bottom of the lake, and one time, he'd even managed to remove an ice cube stuck to his tongue. "Wow, Raoul, where did you find those cuffs?"

Raoul smiled broadly. "Bought them off a Persian trader. Apparently, they were commissioned by the khanum herself, custom-designed specifically for her to use on some magical escape-artist ex-boyfriend of hers."

When he heard that, Erik shouted some words that made Raoul clamp his hands protectively over Christine's ears.

Finally, Christine wriggled her way free. "I've had enough of you two and your incessant quarreling! Honestly, my dear teacher and my beloved fiancé, the two most important men in my life, constantly threatening to kill each other like a couple of armed and dangerous children! Well, it's going to stop this right this minute, do you hear me? Raoul, unlock those cuffs and apologize for trying to have Erik arrested."

"Very well." A disgruntled Raoul rummaged around in his pockets for the key.

Erik smirked smugly. "Heh heh. Take that, pretty boy."

"And Erik," Christine continued, "you will accept Raoul's apology and promise to stop interfering in our relationship."

"Yes, dear," Erik responded mechanically.

"Man," Raoul whispered into his ear, "we are so whipped."

"Just hurry up with that key. And move over! You're standing on my foot!" Erik snapped.

"You know, I could make a few complaints of my own. What did you do, take a bath in cologne?" Raoul had given up on his pockets and sat down to remove his shoes. Alas, the key wasn't in there either. "Uh-oh…"

"Uh oh?" Erik seized the vicomte by the throat and shook him violently. "Uh-oh? Oh, I'll give you 'uh-oh', kid! " He shifted his thumbs slightly, and Raoul's face turned a strange purplish-blue color.

The vicomte didn't bother trying to wrestle his way free. Instead, he pushed the Phantom's cloak aside and began to tickle his ribs. Erik immediately released him and slid helplessly to the floor, alternately laughing and glaring.

Christine grabbed each of the men by one ear and yanked hard. "Stop it this instant! This isn't a big deal. We'll just go down to the locksmith's and get this taken care of."

"But it's ten o'clock on a Friday night. We won't be able to find a locksmith open until Monday morning!" Raoul protested.

"Just in time for the wedding. That works out perfectly. And maybe after a weekend of being trapped in handcuffs together, you'll discover a way to be more patient with each other." Christine couldn't hide her lack of sympathy. These two idiots had fought over her like a piece of meat for the last time.

"NO!" screamed Erik and Raoul in unison.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat," Christine continued, hopping into the boat and paddling toward the nearest exit, "but I've got a wedding to plan. See you Monday, boys!"

"No!" Erik groaned, trying in desperation to pound through the chain with a heavy rock. When that failed, he picked up a stick of driftwood and tapped the lock frantically. "Alohomora!"

Raoul buried his face in his free hand miserably. "This can't be happening."

TBC…