I thought I'd try my hand at one of those Raoul/Christine domestic abuse stories. Erik stops brooding and intervenes and saves the day and gets Christine all to himself. All in a day's work for our favorite masked hero. Enjoy.

"Thank you for meeting me, Erik. You don't know how much this means to me."

"You ruined my life, you know."

"Yes, I know it… and I deeply regret it. But I have come to ask for your help."

"Oh? Trouble in paradise? I thought you would be completely ensconced in your marital bliss by now."

"I know! And we were… believe me!"

"Tell it to a marriage counselor. You left me in that cellar to die, remember?"

"Yes, I remember and you remember and the chandelier remembers and I believe we can regard the matter as sufficiently clear. Now, if you would kindly cease moaning about it for ten minutes, I will be able to tell you that my marriage has become a complete and utter disaster."

"Surely you don't expect me to solve your little lover's spats."

"It is more than that, Erik. I am afraid for my life."

"What happened?"

"Well, it all started off so well, you know? We were finally free of… ah, you… no offense--"

"How could I not take offense to that--"

"Please, Erik. Do not interrupt. It is unbecoming. And before you say it--yes, of course I have ruined your life… but that is no excuse not to observe good manners."

"I hadn't though that… given our history… that is…I… ah… apologize?"

"Apology accepted. Now, as I was saying, it all started off so romantically. We had a marvelously elaborate wedding--I'm sure you read about it in the paper, yes? No? Oh--and spent the six months honeymooning all over the world. Oh it was so wonderful… the hours we spent making l--"

"Ew. Spare me those details, please."

"Ahem. Right then. I thought our lives would be perfect. But then the drinking started. Oh, it was terrible! With the drinking… came the beatings. If I spilled my tea or came home too late, I'd be covered in bruises the next day. Supposedly they were to 'teach me a lesson'."

"I'm going to be honest with you. All of this sounds very… unlikely. Or, at the very least, a serious change of character."

"Of course it is! Haven't you been listening? Do you think I would have gotten myself into this in the first place if I had known it would turn out this way? No, Erik, one does not simply wake up one morning and say 'Gee, I think I shall get myself into an abusive relationship today'! This is as much a surprise to you as it is to me!"

"Now, now… there is no need to shout. Whatever happened to observing good manners?"

"To Hell with good manners! Look at this bruise."

"Ah! Cover that up… it's indecent."

"Fine… well, how about this one, then…"

"I see. That is unfortunate."

"Indeed. So? Will you help me?"

"What for? You've already admitted that you're the one who got yourself into this mess."

"Are you saying I asked for this to happen?"

"No! Of course not. It's just that… agh! What is it you want from me?"

"I want you to come to the manor and steal her back."

"What? Let me get this straight: Christine is beating you up and you want me to take her off your hands. Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, I remembered how violent and crazy you were and I thought… well, that you might be into that sort of thing, if you get my drift. And I figured that, if all else fails, you can use your magic angel voice on her and turn her back into that charming ingénue you were always so fond of."

"Hmm. You have a point there. But I must ask you--what's in it for me?"

"I thought that would be obvious!"

"Stop spluttering. You look like a wet chicken. But, you are correct. It would have been obvious had it been Christine meeting me here tonight, begging for my forgiveness. There wouldn't have been a single question in the matter. It'd all be sorted out lickety-split--she'd be mine and you'd be dead and in the morning we'd all have waffles--well… you wouldn't be having any waffles…"

"Naturally. That would be rather problematic."

"But the point is that you are not Christine. And, if you recall, you and I do not have the sort of history that would lend to me granting you favors."

"I see."

"So, I repeat: what's in it for me?"

"Money, perhaps?"

"Not good enough. I've been running from the police for months. It won't do any good if I am dead, anyway."

"I could speak to the police… get them to call of the search."

"Close. Here is what you are going to do: I want you to publish a message in the Epoque proclaiming my death. Then you will use your pull to convince everyone that the Opera Ghost is actually a real ghost and get them to reinstate my salary."

"I can do that."

"Excellent. Then I believe we have a deal?"

"Quite."

"Alright then, Chagny. It is settled. I shall come by tonight and woo Christine away from you. Is eight o'clock acceptable?"

"Make it seven. I am afraid of her."