"I'll get it!" came a happy cry from outside, whereupon Erik put Ayesha down and dashed to the door, which he flung open in a hurry.

"Siren! NO! It's Nadir!" yelled Erik as loudly as he could, which, suffice it to say, could be heard up to the third story of the Opera. We'll not even go into how he knew that. The Siren immediately stopped swimming and looked back.

"Oh," she said in disappointment, then looked up at the boat as it passed her. "Hi Nadir!"

"Hello, Siren," Nadir greeted as Darius stopped his rowing to allow the blue mermaid-like creature to climb into the boat behind them. "How are you?"

"Just peachy," said the Siren as she looked down at the lake's surface. "Hey, I never really get to see it from up here. It looks so . . . dark."

"It isn't dark down there?"

"Nope! It's a pretty kind of dark green!"

Nadir nodded in amusement at the Siren's contrariness as Darius continued his rowing, soon reaching the house. The three of them hopped out and followed Erik inside.

"I heard what happened," said Nadir sympathetically. "I was sacked as well."

Erik looked at him in amazement. "They fired you! I didn't know you actually worked here!"

"Yesterday," answered Nadir. "They claimed I wasn't looking 'mysterious enough' and I was told I no longer had my trademark 'evil eye'. They told me to never come back, so I sneaked through the Rue Scribe entrance just now and heard . . . Raoul and Christine talking about your . . . um, release." He paused. "There was a chair lying on top of their carriage. It was most strange."

"Christine wasn't hurt, was she!"

"No, no, of course not." Nadir looked at Erik carefully. "Don't tell me you were responsible for that chair being there."

Erik looked away. Nadir sighed.

"Why would you throw a chair on the Vicomte's carriage?"

"I didn't know de Chagny was there! Those imbeciles told me I was fired . . . and I . . . threw the chair at Richard. It flew through the window and must have landed there."

Nadir sighed again. "I suppose I can't really blame you. I felt like doing the same thing."

The Siren looked around Erik's house very carefully. This had been the first time ever that she'd been allowed inside, and since it now seemed it would be the last, she wasn't going to miss a thing.

Ayesha followed her around suspiciously, hating the fact that the half-mermaid creature was bringing the dirty lake-water into her domain.

"They told me I have twenty-four hours to get my things out of here," Erik told Nadir, who motioned to Darius.

"Both Darius and I would be more than happy to help you get your possessions together."

"I'll help, too!" piped up the Siren. "I can use my Supernatural Siren Strength™!" 1

"I'd prefer you didn't," both Erik and Nadir said at once, with Ayesha silently agreeing with them.

"Where are you going to stay?" asked Nadir.

"I was thinking that you could get me an apartment nearby for now until I figure something out."

Nadir nodded. "Of course." He looked around at all of Erik's furniture and had just begun to ask, "How are we going to do this?" when the bell went off. Again.

"I'll get it!" the Siren immediately said, happy at the noise, and made for the front door. Erik beat her to it and looked out carefully.

The Siren, Nadir, and Darius looked out as well, one head above another, in that classic cartoon way. In the boat coming towards them were Madame Giry and Meg.

"How many boats have you got?" asked Nadir.

"Ten," answered Erik. "Five on each side, in case of emergencies."

The boat soon landed, and the Girys hopped out and walked up to the door.

Madame Giry tapped her cane in frustration. Nadir, Erik, Darius, and the Siren moved aside and opened the door further to allow them to enter.

Madame Giry was practically steaming from her anger. "I can't believe they just kicked you out like that!"

"Madame-" Erik began, but Meg stopped him.

"Let her vent, or else she'll pull the stuffing out of our couch later," Meg advised. "We've lost seven couches that way. She's threatening to move onto chairs next."

Erik nodded, stunned.

"Why, I'll bet that you're the best Ghost this Opera will ever have!" Madame Giry continued, swinging her cane erratically as she stomped around. Nadir, Darius, and the Siren ducked each time it seemed to come at them.

"I'll tell you this much!" she screamed. "They won't be gettin' Madame Giry to be the new Ghost's henchwoman, I assure you now! No, siree, they can just find someone else to do it!"

"They're threatening to fire Mom next," said Meg.

"Yeah, and if they do, I'll kick Richard in the fanny this time!" said Madame Giry, the memory of being literally kicked out of the managerial office still fresh in her mind.

"We've come to help you move," said Meg. "We figure it's the last thing we can do for you."

"Have you any idea who the new Phantom will be?" asked Erik. Meg shook her head.

"No, but I'll kill him!" screamed Madame Giry, still swinging her cane and making Nadir, Darius, and the Siren duck.

"You won't kill anyone, Madame," said Nadir. Madame Giry glared at him.

Then she sighed. "You're right," she admitted. "That's the Phantom's job."

"Not anymore." Erik sighed as well.

Then, with another heavy sigh, they looked around the house.

"Well, guess we should get to work," said Meg.

Nine long hours later, all of Erik's possessions had been moved from his house to an apartment a couple streets away. The six exhausted people were now in Erik's new home, looking at everything.

Madame Giry was lying on the couch and fanning herself, Meg was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and Erik, Darius, and Nadir were sitting on chairs. They were all breathing heavily.

The Siren was the only one standing. She didn't even seem the least bit tired, even though she'd done a lot of the work. This was, of course, not due to the fact that she may or may not be a Mary Sue, but of her Supernatural Siren Strength™, which she didn't tell anyone she had used.

"I have so many neato decorating ideas for this place!" she said, holding Ayesha and wandering through the apartment, examining every little thing.

Ayesha didn't much like being held by someone who ran to the bathroom every twenty minutes to fill up the sink and dunk her head in it.

But every time she tried to get away, the Siren would scratch behind her ears, causing her to purr happily.

Why did cats have that infernal weakness!

"It's going to look so nice when we're done with it!" the Siren continued happily, scratching behind the cat's ears. Ayesha began to purr involuntarily.

"We?" asked Erik.

"I'm coming with you!" said the Siren. "I couldn't serve any other Opera Ghost!"

Erik was touched. "Why . . . thank you."

"You're welcome!" beamed the Siren. "Can we make a cake?"

Ignoring the Siren's random outburst, everyone else stared at his stuff silently for a short while, before the silence was interrupted.

"We need to go back. I need destroy all the barrels of gunpowder," said Erik suddenly.

Nadir stared at Erik. "WHAT!"

"Relax," said Erik. "I wasn't planning to do anything with them."

"Yes, you were!" Nadir accused. "If you weren't, you wouldn't have them!"

Erik explained the gunpowder incident.

"Oh," said Nadir apologetically. "Well, that's understandable . . . I suppose."

And so, leaving Ayesha behind (who was jealous that the Siren got to go), they all headed back to take care of the last minute details in Erik's house.

Once at the Opera, they passed the long line of possible sackees, which included Gabriel, Mercier, Mauclair, Lachenal, the supervisor, and that famous baritone, Carolus Fonta, and silently wished them all luck when their turn came to deal with the managers.

And back in the basements, after a near collision course with Raoul and Christine (Nadir, Madame Giry, the Siren, and Meg had quickly gone into action to block any chance that Erik might have had of seeing them), they returned to the sub-levels of the Opera.

"It looks so strange to see it empty again, after all this time," Erik commented, feeling homesick for the place.

A group of phangirls appeared from all over the house, sniffing sadly and leaning on each other. They all glomped Erik at the same time and then, still supporting each other, walked through the front door, bawling their eyes out.

One of them popped her head back in and shouted, "Erik is the only Phantom that we'll EVER worship!"

Erik, forced to the floor by their sudden, rapid, quick, etc., etc., insane hugging, took in this information.

"Thanks . . . ladies," he gasped as he tried to stand back up. "I . . . appreciate it."

Another phan popped her head in and managed to grin through her tears. "Thanks, Erik-sama. We're off to protest this to the management." She paused. "If that doesn't work, we'll go Pyro on them!" She laughed maniacally.

"No, we won't," said the first phan. "The Admiral won't let us actually burn anything."

"Aww," whined the second. "I really wanted to use this!" She held up a Phantom-mask-shaped lighter dramatically.

"Hey, I want one of those!" said the first phan. The second one laughed again, and they both pulled their heads out of the house and took off.

"What does 'sama' mean?" asked Erik a moment later, sitting against the wall by the front door.

"Oh, I know!" said the Siren. "It means much respect, y'know, like that which befits a lord or king." She beamed.

Erik then said something very, very, very, very OOC. "Nifty."

Madame Giry and Meg just stood there, mouths hanging open in shock at what just happened.

"Those were just a few of Erik's phans," explained Nadir matter-of-factly, then paused. "I think the management is going to have some very large problems soon."

Just as he said that, they could all hear some shouts coming from upstairs, and it sounded like someone had shouted, "Flood!"

Then it seemed that they could hear a phan rebuking another for acting so quickly on her impulses.

"The Admiral's not going to like this!" came the faint shout from upstairs.

"I think," said Erik, standing up, "that it would be wise for us to get out of here as quickly as possible."

Erik would normally have defended his Opera to the death, but even he knew better than to mess with a vengeful fangirl, even if she was one of his own phans.

After all, to the worshipees, we're scary.

"Good idea," agreed Madame Giry. They all hurried into the torture chamber and lifted up the trapdoor.

Dragging the barrels out, they chucked them into the lake. Afterwards, Erik disarmed that cool scorpion/grasshopper bomb thingy, because if anyone was going to blow up the Opera, it'd be him. Or Christine.

Once back at Ayesha, the Siren, and Erik's new place, Erik sank down on the couch, sighing in sorrow.

"I already miss my house," he muttered sadly. "I miss Christine!"

Madame Giry and Nadir exchanged meaningful glances, then walked over to Erik and took hold of his arms.

"Let's take a break from all this right now," Nadir suggested.

"Right!" said Madame Giry. "What you need right now is some FUN!"

Meg, Darius, and the Siren nodded.

"I've always wanted to vault roofs," the Siren suggested.

Everyone gave her a good, long stare of disbelief.

"What?"

"I think you're clinically insane," said Meg.

"Well, you would be, too, if you spent your whole life swimming around in a bright pretty lake, and your only purpose in life was to defend an underground house," the Siren pointed out. "Besides, I like being insane! It's fun."

"I paid you and gave you Fridays off," Erik pointed out. The Siren nodded and pulled a small bag from her shorts' pocket. It was dripping with water.

"I've been saving up!" she beamed.

"For what?" everyone asked curiously."A big set of paints and lots of fancy paper!" she said happily.

"Why?" asked Meg.

"I'm an artist!" the Siren declared dramatically. "You should see my doodles at the bottom of the lake!"

"Congratulations, Siren," everyone said, forcing themselves to sound cheery when in reality they thought that was rather silly sounding – wouldn't the water make it impossible to draw in the sand?

Madame Giry and Nadir continued pulling Erik towards the door.

"I'm fine, really!"

The two sighed. "No, you're not, Erik. You need help."

"I beg your pardon!"

"You know what we mean!"

"Fine," Erik sighed, deciding it was better to just give in than fight these two.

He would lose, anyway.

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1 As seen in The Phantom of the SOAP Opera.