Disclaimer: phantom not mine.
A/N: Hey all I hope you all realize that today Phantom becomes the longest running show on Broadway! If not surprise! 7,384 performances baby! Any' hoz this chapter will be pretty long, I'm working on some stuff and look for a cameo chapter as soon as I work out the details! Enjoy!
The Plot Thickens
Standing beneath Apollo's lyre, Tammy let the wind whip her hair forward. In the few months she'd been there her hair had grown to below her shoulder blades; which was wonderful because she'd always wanted long hair but it also sucked because her curls frizzed because of living next to an underground lake. The statue actually stood on a pedestal three feet above the roof that was a large strip of flat roofing before it slanted off at the sides nearly every square foot was covered in large statues. Her cloak billowed as she pulled the edges closer to try and ward off the chill of the November air. Staring out at the Parisian skyline, she was seemingly oblivious to the dark shadow looming over her.
She tucked a stray auburn curl behind her ear. Man, she really wished that had gone better, well smoother… and what was with the monologue? She only monologued when she was on stage. If she could do it again she would have made sure the first song he saw wasn't Down Once More. for the first time in her life she didn't feel like singing. She didn't even want to have the ring call up a whoopee cushion to place under Firmin's chair.
Erik glared at her from atop the statue. His amber gaze zeroed in on her face, normally she was easy to read (except when playing poker) now however it wasn't her expression that called him. She carried an air of sadness and loneliness, but also somehow she seemed more fragile then he'd ever imagined. When she barged in on his life he imagined nothing would stop this woman, not him or Carlotta, and certainly she was strong enough to never show weakness in front of him.
The most disturbing thing was that this weakness of hers seemed to call to him on an unexplainable level. Some basic instinct made him want to hide her from the world so only he could see her flaws, an over protectiveness that ran in his family ( until his mother).
He shook his head, she was just a kindred spirit, one who somehow understood his pain. She was a annoying nuisance who had come to live under his roof, and yet he almost took pleasure in the fact that she needed him. Besides she was his house guest and therefore untouchable. He was after all a gentleman. That and if he did try and cut her off from the outside world she would more than likely kill him, or drive him insane.
She sighed, "he just doesn't get it…"
He snapped out of his thoughts and silently watched as she paced, "then again I'm no gem either. Two hundred years in the past and I'm still making the same mistakes. You'd think I'd learn." she frowned and raised her arms in question, "how many times do I have to go through this? Huh?"
His eyes narrowed. Had someone hurt her in her time? What was she talking about? She leaned against the stone carvings tracing them with her fingers, "at first it's wonderful. The feeling of freedom, wonder, and joy. Then something always goes wrong I get lost and loose my footing. Clinging doesn't help for long. Then I get scared and lose hope. I eventually walk away but always with a feeling of trepidation. How do I fix this?"
His eyes followed her as she circled the pedestal. She stood with her back to him contemplating. He rose from his hiding spot and stood behind her.
"maybe I can be of service?" he said in that sensuous growl he was famous for. She jumped nearly three feet and would have fell off the granite surface if she hadn't grabbed his shoulders. Once she gained her balance she let go of him and scowled, "don't do that!"
He chuckled, "impossible, but what is it that has caused you to seek your refuge here on the roof?"
Her blue green gaze scanned the gray roof top and sighed, "life? Though it certainly threw me a screw ball this time."
He blinked, the question forming in his amber eyes. She beat him to answering, "it means I've gotten stuck in a pretty bad situation."
He lifted a brow, "and who put you in this situation?"
"myself," she sighed. "and some twisted plot hole in fate that loves to see me in this situation over and over again."
He placed his hands on her shoulders and caught her gaze with his own. "I don't know who's hurting you, but I promise he won't get away with it."
Her brows knitted, "wha…?"
"tell me who he is and I won't let him take a breath without regretting his actions…"
She blinked her blue green eyes confusedly, "who are…?"
"history shouldn't repeat itself…" he growled but was cutoff by her hand over his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, "what are you talking about? There's no he! There's not even a …"
She stared for an eternal moment before starting to giggle. Removing her hand forcibly by the wrist, he growled, "what is so funny?"
She started laughing harder her voice was becoming squeaky at this point, "you think that I… and a guy back in this time…oh that's great!"
He didn't laugh, "your point?"
She suppressed her giggles, "I'm not in any relationship trouble. How did you get that?"
He didn't like looking like a fool. Jerking his hands off her he glowered, "I heard nearly everything you said, history of mistakes, feelings of joy, and trepidation. I assumed…"
"and that's what you get for assuming," she smiled, "I was talking about my fear of heights and how I was stuck on this piece of art. For years I've been getting stuck in trees, on top of flag poles, my roof and other high places. My friends called it cat-stuck-in-a-tree-syndrome."
He blinked, "so no…"
"nope," she grinned. He frowned, "not even a…?"
"nada," she met his amber gaze again, "although I appreciate your concern it isn't needed. People come and go but fear is forever."
He stepped easily off the granite and turned to her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, he easily picked her up, his hands on her waist. She was lighter than he expected. Placing her on the roof top he captured one of her hands leading her to the door, "speaking of people, who are these 'phan girls' who talk about me in the future?"
"oh, inflating our ego now are we?" She lifted a brow. "basically they are girls all around the world in the future who think you're sexy. If you ever meet some more of them, besides me, you may never recover."
He turned to her, "what do you mean?"
She smiled her, as he termed it, alligator smile, "we tend to leave a lasting impression."
XxX
Erik gazed into the flames, he stood in front of the fire. He was dressed in his usual evening best. His night black suit was immaculate and his mask was firmly in place. A golden pin held a crimson cravat in place, and his dark cloak was swept behind him as her stood before the fireplace. The picture was one that would send all phan girls scrambling to get to him first.
She had returned to the lair latter them him stopping momentarily to scare the ballet girls. He had promised her that she could go to the opera with him, as long as she didn't interrupt him taking Christine home. As far as he knew she had no intention of doing any thing of the sort.
He wasn't sure what to make of her declaration this afternoon. The idea of being adored by one woman, let alone thousands, was completely foreign to him. Yet the proof was right there in front of him. Both in the music and the disk Tammy had called a DVD. He hadn't watched it yet. In truth he was almost fearful of how the movie would portray him. He would have to gather as much information as he could from her before actually watching it.
On the heels of that thought came the realization that if he was as widely known in the future, then there was a large probability that she would know what lies beneath his mask. He fists clenched of their own accord, how could she know and not tell him. How could she still stand to be near him, live with him, and still stand to look at him.
The door opened silently, he was lost in thought. A small clearing of her throat finally caught his attention He turned and found he couldn't breathe. Where had his energetic annoyance gone? His amber gaze traveled from head to toe and then back up.
She was dressed in a deep emerald green silk trimmed in black lace and embroidered in silver designs of Celtic origin. The corset-like top was formfitting to show off her thin waist and slender curves. Emerald silk draped down in a graceful skirt that reached the floor, a slit went up to her mid thigh on her right side, showing just a glimpse of her pale long legs. This creation didn't have long sleeves but instead was cut like her tank top with thick straps and modestly cut around the chest. She had black gloves and her ring. Around her upper arms was a black gossamer wrap. Her shoes were sliver sandals with a small heel. Her red curls had been brushed so they fell over her shoulders attractively. Silver teardrop earrings sparkled in contrast while a small thin black half mask framed her green eyes. She truly was her names sake, the siren of the lake. She smiled uneasily, "will I do?"
He blinked the adopted a frown, "where is your cloak? I don't want to be fighting off those male patrons who have more than a simple opera on their minds. Where did you get that thing?"
She grinned, "you really like it?"
He smiled, "yes I do. Now hurry or we'll be late."
She collected her cloak, and he offered her his arm. She was grinning from ear to ear, as he escorted her to the boat and across the lake. His nuisance had transformed. Before she was wild and uncontrolled, given to act on a whim. Now he was gazing at a calm, serene, and admittedly beautiful woman. She started singing softly yet with great enthusiasm, "OOOOOH! I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! There they are all sittin' in a row! Big ones, small ones…." He wanted to retract that last statement, "Did you by any chance have any caffeine today?"
"not any more than the usual Erik." she grinned. He poled them across the lake. As they reached the other side and he got out and tied the boat to the dock. He turned and offered his hand. She placed her hand in his and stood to sort of hop/step out of the boat. He never noticed how long her fingers were, of course she was a pianist after all.
They quickly slipped through the dark corridors and paths to the hollow column next tow box five. He glanced through the screen and cursed, "those fools sold my box!"
She touched his shoulder, "let me handle this."
He slid open the door and watched as she entered the box. The young couple seemed oblivious to her as she positioned herself behind their seats. Her voice had a breathless quality, thin and whispery as if not truly there. She raised her arms stretched out wide as if offering her voice as she sang in a low hypnotic voice.
The young couple had noticedThe woman looked horrified and the man was captivated. Erik's gaze narrowed. Tammy continued to sing softy, her hands moved and swept, weaving a spell with her graceful movements that were more provocative than she may have realized.
The woman was begging to leave as Tammy pulled what looked like a silver dagger from her cloak. The man was entranced in her spell. She brushed her fingers along his cheek and spoke, "Listen to the girl, go and never come to this box again."
With that the woman tugged the man out the door. Tammy smiled, flipped the silver object over in her hand and pulled her glove off to file her nails. Erik stepped out of the pillar, "A nail file?"
She smiled and sat in one of the chairs pulling her glove back on , "It's an essential. Never know when you're going to need to impersonate a secretary."
He lifted a brow, sitting in the chair opposite hers, "in a gown?"
She laughed, "okay, so it sounds really stupid when you say it that way."
Pocketing the file she flicked open her black feather fan.
The first act opened with the usual flare and chorus of dancers and voices. He found it most entertaining , but he couldn't help but notice Tammy sitting there muttering to herself and every once and a while her opera glasses strayed from the stage to another box across the way. When Christine took the stage she was magnificent, until her eyes strayed to the same box his companion found so interesting. To say he was agitated was putting it mildly. When the curtain fell he turned on the redhead, "what is so fascinating about that box?"
She looked at him in surprise, "Oh, I guess you haven't met the fop yet."
"who?"
She smiled smugly, "finally I know something you don't! is this what it feels like all the time.."
"Just tell me!" he snapped. She blinked, "gosh Mr. Snarky, no need to get snippy. His name is Raoul and he is the Vicomte de Chagny. A.k.a. the fop in modern phan talk. Evidentially he knew Christine when they were kids, you could almost call them sweethearts," she laughed, "I'm sorry, but this is normally the part of the movie when you drop the set on Carlotta. Any'hoz, Raoul isn't the real physical threat. If your looking for the real muscle behind the Chagny name it would be tall dark and nose permanently stuck in the air. His name's Philippe, Raoul's older brother and destined to inherit the Chagny title, if he lives long enough."
Erik transferred his gaze to the box where the brothers were discussing various concerns, "he used to love my Christine?"
"un, yeah" she waved her hand in front of his face, "hello, did you miss the rest of my speech ? Raoul should be visiting your little ingénue after the second act. And it isn't used too, he still does."
His amber gaze swept from her, to the box. Back to her. His twisted mouth grinned, she paled, "I don't like that look Erik."
He adopted a thoughtful look, "well, I can't have that interfering boy or his brother interrupting my plans, and you look so ravishing in that dress…"
"Erik," she folded her arms over her chest, "if the next words out of your mouth are what I think they are you can forget it. I won't even pretend to know what's gotten into the exceedingly obsessed mind of yours, but I want no part of it."
She turned away in her chair, chin firmly raised. He frowned, "you do want back into the house tonight, right?"
"Oh no! that won't work on me," she shot a glare over her shoulder at him. "I know more than ten ways to get into your little house."
"I thought there was only nine." His brow furrowed, "how did you…"
"that's not the point," she snapped. "I will not play distraction. No matter how much you bargain or threaten."
XxX
She was going to kill him. Glowering she snapped her fan shut, her mask was hanging tied to her wrist. Standing in the shadows she warded off any men who thought they might fancy her with a deadly look. Keeping her eyes peeled for the brothers Chagny, she leaned against a wall and seethed. No private voice lessons were worth this.
Philippe, for all his no flirting with the under class, was standing across the room chatting with that Sorelli. The ballet rat looked so smug to have caught the eye of a count. Tammy realized Raoul must be in Christine's dressing room.
With a weary sigh she crossed the crowed room to position herself next to the door for when he came out. Halfway across the room she realized she was out in the open, she cursed. There were no shadows to blend in with here and the crowd was getting denser by the minute. Drat! She couldn't see Philippe anymore, Sorelli had walked off too. She strained to see above the crowd when some one grabbed her wrist, "what's a pretty lovely like you doin' 'ere?"
She snatched her wrist back and glared at the obviously inebriated man. He leered at her, "don't you talk my sweet?"
She pulled back her hand and took off her glove. Curling her fingers she let one fly. An upper cut that hit square in the jaw with a satisfying thud. He cursed and clutched his offended jowl. She smiled, pulled her glove back on, and politely curtsied before walking away. She had barely taken a step when the man gruffly sized her wrist again. With a sigh she turned back to him. His face was red from drink and anger and his jaw line was slowly turning purple. She rolled her eyes and pinched a tender pressure point by the collar bone, he crumpled easily releasing her.
She had caused a scene, she knew it. Someone grabbed her elbow and steered her away form the now whimpering man. For once she didn't struggle she just needed to get out of here. Once they were out of the crush she figured gratitude may be in order. He had brought her to stand outside Christine's dressing room.
"Thank you! That could have gotten ugly," she smiled. Turning she squeaked. Philippe smiled easily, his voice rumbled from his chest "Delighted I could help such an enchanting creature. Sorry if I startled you, Mademoiselle… "
"uh…Tamara Delarox." She glanced around nervously. "I don't believe we've met, um…"
"I am The Count Philippe de Chagny," he purred. He definitely conveyed an essence of nobility. He stood what she might guess to be about 6', he had dark brown hair and brown eyes. His clothing was well tailored, a black suit and midnight blue waist coat. The only thing that gave away the fact that he was more wealthy than other people attending was the sapphire pin holding his white cravat in place and the gleam of his Hessian boots. "Delarox, I don't believe I've heard that name before."
"yes well," She glanced at the door again. "My brother and I like to live in the country. We have a wonderful house by a lake. We don't normally like to come into the city but the upcoming Holidays demand it."
He lifted a brow, "sounds like your brother is over protective. Perhaps he doesn't wish you to meet any unsavory gentleman."
"Perhaps he just wishes to save them from me" she grinned, "I'm told people are never quite the same after they spend time in my company."
He laughed, "are you saying for a bit of free spirit?"
"depends, are you saying you're a rake?" she grinned, was she flirting? NO! Nonononononono! She was only being a distraction, she was loyal. He smiled at her, "A rake would ask to escort you to dinner."
She smiled back, "and a free spirit would throw caution to the wind and join said rake despite her overprotective brother."
"then shall we?" he offered her his arm, she placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. Feeling the hard muscles beneath her fingers she suppressed a gasp. Raoul trudged out of the room looking depressed. Philippe called, "Raoul, Come we're going to dinner. You can moon over that girl at another time."
He sulkily wandered over. Tammy's artistic side noticed that he shared Philippe's brown eyes but that was the only thing the brothers shared. While Raoul had the boyish features that were only beginning to mature, Philippe had features that looked chiseled like they were sculpted. Raoul's hair was a shade lighter and added to that persona of foppishness that he was famous for. Raoul looked at her but didn't seem to see her, this did wonders for her self esteem. She decided to smile any way, "Would you care to join us?"
His brown gaze snapped to her, though her smile never waned her gaze became as cold as ice. Raoul was momentarily stunned before falling dutifully inline behind his brother. She looked back at the door, her acute hearing barely picking up the sounds of Erik's voice above the sounds of the crush surrounding her.
Philippe placed his hand over hers, her head snapped back to him. His hand was warm an engulfed her hand easily, she smiled. He flashed her a rakish grin, "shall we my dear?"
She pulled her cloak closer to ward off a sudden chill, "we shall."
XxX
Later that night after spending the evening at an upscale restaurant drinking fine wine, exchanging witty conversation, and whenever Raoul spoke up wishing she had a big baseball bat.
She had been exiled to the couch. Not by will of course but by her weakness to his amber eyes. ALW had it right when he wrote the line, "those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore". She gave up her room and sanctity of privacy, so little miss angel could sleep in comfort, on her sheets and pillows.
With a growl she punched her pillow trying to get comfortable. It didn't seem to work until she pictured little Miss Daae in the pillow. Even then she didn't find satisfaction of punching helpless feathers. She wanted to hurt the real thing, when had she gotten so violent?
Also, what was with tonight? She wasn't sure what was going on, but there was something about Philippe she couldn't shake. At first she had chalked it up to her always wanting to meet an 18th century Noble, her passion for regency romance novels. Now she wasn't sure, he made her feel beautiful while Erik ignored her. He openly flirted with her instead look at her contempt. She wasn't sure of his intentions, but she knew how to protect herself if the worst happened. She just hoped the worst wouldn't come to pass.
With an agitated sigh she borrowed under the green comforter, borrowed for Miss Daae's stay. She needed sleep, even if Erik was an insomniac with his constant playing he new the value of sleep. Frustrated with her predicament she fell into a restless slumber.
Next morning…
She looked at peace, he thought. She was curled on the couch, red curls mused by sleep, dark lashes fluttered against her pale cheeks, and muttering something the sounded like "full sail and load the canons".
Hard to believe that this was the same person who made a game of terrorizing helpless ballet rats and insisting on spending time with him, the angel of darkness. A trait he almost found endearing. At this point in time she looked almost innocent…the key word being almost.
With out much further ado, he held her slender shoulders and shook her. Her eyes fluttered open, her green eyes still a bit dazed. She looked around and asked point blank, "why is the rum gone?"
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," he said rather gruffly releasing her shoulders. Her gaze became focused, and she pouted, "give me a break, not all people can be a morning person like you! I was just fighting those filthy treasure stealers on the Spanish main."
He ignored that last comment. "I need to go into town to fetch some items for Miss Daae."
She climbed out of her makeshift 'bed', "Let me guess. Last nights big wedding gown revel didn't go well. Maybe she isn't a fan of lace?"
He frowned, her sarcasm was duly noted, but he let it slide. "I need you to tend to her whims while I'm gone…"
"No."
He paused. Her tone hadn't been forceful, loud, or full of any anger at all. It was as if she was stating a fact that he should have known. Well two can play this game… "yes you will do what she asks. Make her breakfast, tea and toast will do, and help her as she goes about her day."
She sighed, "I get the feeling we've traveled down this path before. I will be no persons slave, Need I drag out the bag pipes again?"
He almost flinched. "Ah but our agreement the other night…"
"Alright!" she grabbed a dressing robe. "I'll play babysitter, but please get home soon."
She blinked sleepily, she looked disheveled from sleep, which he found almost endearing. With that he swept out of the house. Reassured that Christine was in good hands.
She watched the door close and the smile dropped from her face. Tightening the tie of her robe she grabbed the ring. It was time for some serious payback.
XxX
The brown haired beauty woke (beauty… yeah…. right) and sat up in bed. Finding a bell on the nightstand she rung it. Instantly a woman in green and black materialized by the bed, causing Christine to jump. "Well madam, we were wondering if you would ever wake. We'll be getting your breakfast now yes. Hope you like hot chocolate and French toast."
"it's mademoiselle," Christine smiled and reached for her gloved hand, "would you be a dear, and..."
The redhead snatched her hand away, her smile became strained, and her gaze became violent. "Don't touch me."
Christine blinked, her brow furrowed and her voice adopted a warning tone. "I'm…sorry?"
"You heard me." the woman's green eye's narrowed. "I tend to my masters whim to serve you, but not under any circumstances does that give you liberty to touch me or treat me as one of your servants madam."
Christine crawled out of bed and stood. Tammy had worn her boots so she had an unfair advantage over the five foot brunette. "It's mademoiselle."
"I know," the siren snapped. "and frankly you aren't deserving of that lofty title because it implies an innocence that you don't have."
"How dare you!" Christine squawked. "if you are to serve me, get me my breakfast and draw me a bath. If I am to order you around I should at least know your name."
"that is for authorized personal only and you don't have authorization." She redhead swept a mocking curtsy, "but, madam, if you must call me any thing call me siren."
The siren swept out of the room but heard a shrill voice "It's mademoiselle!"
She smiled and collected the French toast off the skillet, oops it got a little bit black. Dowsing the two pieces in maple syrup she added her favorite ingredient a little bit of dusted cinnamon, whoops I used the curry… ah well it should still taste the same. Now for that hot chocolate, nice warm and frothy. Let's just add a little whip cream and where did I put those sprinkles, here's some! What's that word on the label, laxative? Perfect! Setting it all on a tray she walked to the room humming to herself, by the time she got to her highnesses room she was singing to herself.
Yet in his eyes
all the sadness
of the world . . .
Those pleading eyes,
that both threaten
and adore . . .
Depositing the tray she headed form the bathroom but not before singing one of her favorite songs from gypsy.
You don't know this man,
I don't think you could.
You come here with your horrifying stories
These contemptible conceits,
And you think you understand how a man's heart beats
But you don't know this man
Christine huffed at her meal, "you think you can stop singing?"
"I'm a siren get used to it!" She called. Grabbing a bucket she passed by Christine and headed out the front door, she wanted a bath she'd get one. Filling the bucket with ice cold lake water Tammy headed back inside to draw the royal bath. She filled the tub with lukewarm water, used three bottles of blue food dye, and covered that with white frothy bubbles courtesy of her magic ring. She left the bucket next to the tub it also sported a bubbly surface. "bath's ready! More warm waters by the tub."
Christine came in looking calm, "fine ."
Tammy saw the beginning of discomfort on the brunette's delicate features. Grinning evilly she flipped her curls, "by the way, Erik's ordered new chamber pots but they won't be here until this afternoon. He didn't tell me that until after I had disposed of the old ones. He said he'd go pick them up this afternoon. Hope this isn't a problem."
XxX
A shrill scream and yell of anguish cut through the air. Tammy went into panic mode, storming out of the room she opened the door with a slam. She looked like a fiery demon in the low light, her green eyes blazing at what she saw. Erik was on his knees before that wretched girl, his black mask in her hands. Incensed her voice took a low threatening shade that only came out when she was past angry. "Erik, have some self respect for once and your life and get off that floor! I don't ever want to see you kissing this woman's, and I use the term woman very loosely, feet ever again. You are better than that, no matter what you think of yourself and your face."
Her gaze zeroed in on the honey-eyed girl, who was sporting a lovely deer in the headlights look. "And you. I want you OUT! NOW! You will be allowed back when we deem fit. I do not CARE if you don't know the way back. Go to the Louis-Phillipe room, go outside, go ANYWHERE! If you are in my sight for two more seconds, I will not be able to control myself, and your safety is not high on my to-do list."
Christine looked hesitant until Tammy clenched her teeth and hissed, "NOW!" She scampered past the angry redhead handing over the mask and leaving a depressed phantom on the floor. Tammy closed her eyes and slowly let the tense muscles relax, her teeth and fists unclench, and taking a few deep breaths; opening her eyes she walked over and kneeled before Erik. He refused to meet her gaze his head bowed, she sighed, "Erik, talk to me. I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to, but…."
"Why…" he whispered. Smartly she shut up. "Why did she need to know? Why does anyone need to know? You didn't need to know!"
She blinked, and put the mask in her lap, "your right that I didn't need to know, but I did know. I knew before you met me."
He was silent. She scooted closer and framed his face in her hands. Lifting his chin she met his gaze, "it's hard to see if any of this is getting through to you if you won't look at me."
He grabbed her wrists pulled them away from his face and he stood dragging her to her feet. He glared at her, releasing her he advanced. She took a step back, "Do I disgust you? Fill you with loathing at my face?"
He stepped again and out of instinct she stepped back surprise clearly written on her face. "No, why…"
He kept up his path, driving her back. "Do you fear me then? Do you wish to leave and never look on me again."
She gasped, "Never! I…"
The cold hard stone surface of the fireplace met her back. Clenching his fists on the mantle he trapped her between him and the fireplace. He sneered down at her, "Perhaps you see me as someone to be pitied. Do you tremble when I enter a room?…"
"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M SCARED!" She snapped. "honesty Erik, I'm not Christine. Don't you ever compare me to her! Unlike her I see past the mask and your face. There is more to you than a piece of fabric, porcelain, or whatever! I know there's a composer, magician, architect, artist, but most of all a man. A man so passionate about his work that I weep outside his door because he won't let me in to appreciate it to it's fullest. A man who has gone through things I can't imagine, yet he is still one of the most intelligent men I've ever met. However you limit yourself by having your happiness depend on the opinion of one brown eyed singer, who by the way was making googoo eyes at Raoul all last night.
"In my opinion I hate your mask, almost as much as you do. It's a barrier between you and the rest of the world. I know it's tempting to keep that so you won't be hurt, won't be mocked, and you keep that air of deceit that people don't see you. If you do keep it up without stop you will not experience the joys of feeling the wind in your face while galloping across the countryside, the warmth of sunshine on a summers day, or the hot tears of when you find that person who loves you because of your passion and your flaws.
"I know what it's like to wear a mask."
He glared at her, "how could you possibly know?"
She bowed her head, "I may not wear a physical mask, but I've worn an emotional mask for years. I can't be hyper, funny, or calm and sarcastic all the time. That is my mask! I hurt and I cry but I hide it with cold indifference or write it off with a joke. I know it's not the same, but just as you've been trapped down here I've been blind and in my own world."
She lifted her gaze and met his. He saw what he thought was pleading, truth, and something he couldn't tell. She handed him his mask. "I won't wear my mask around you if you grant me the same courtesy. I want to know the real you, and I will show you the real me. I'll be in the rose room if you need me."
She ducked under his arm and strode out of the room.
He gazed at the door as it closed. Then he glanced at his mask and turned it over in his hands. For what seemed like an eternal minute he stared at the black prison. She hated it, and didn't mind his face. Her truths rang through his mind. His expression hardened. Tossing the mask on the bench he followed her.
The house was empty, she could split really quickly. He yanked open the front door, the boat was on the other side of the lake already. He went the long way around the lake. Swiftly navigating the corridors he found the door. He opened it a crack. She was curled on the couch in a multi colored blanket the small table was filled of brightly colored wrapped stuffs that looked like those reeses things. She sighed hung her head and pushed a button on the laptop causing it to spring to life.
He entered silently, she looked up. He bowed, "Mademoiselle may I have the honor of introducing myself. I am Erik, opera ghost extraordinaire."
She smiled, stood with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and curtsied. "enchanted to meet you Monsieur, I am Tamara. Might I be so bold to ask you to join me?"
"what would I be joining you in?" he sat on the couch. She grinned, "drowning our problems in sugar and watching some of my favorite movies."
Tapping the space bar a fog filled scene off a passing ship filled the screen. He grabbed a package of those Reeses things and settled in. "what movie is this?"
"It's Pirates of the Caribbean," she opened a pint of dove chocolate ice cream. "Starring, by my opinion, one of the last and most truly brilliant actors in Hollywood, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. He's one of the last actors in the movies that are truly acting, he is never the same from movie to movie."
"fascinating," he commented, "By the way what did you do to get rid of the Chagny brothers last night? You came in late last night."
"oh," she grabbed an oreo. "Philippe stopped me from nearly killing a guy last night. We got to talking, he invited me to dinner. I agreed and he dragged his brother away from Christine's door. We went to the lovely little restaurant down the street, it was nice." she coughed over this last part, "andhewantstoseemeagainverysoon."
Erik frowned, "I'm sorry I think my hearing must be going. Did you just say you went to dinner with this count, and he wants to see you again? What were you thinking!"
She huffed, "Man Erik, you have over protective issues. It's not like I agreed to marry him. He's only a puppet to keep Raoul out of the way. I didn't come almost 200 years back in time to fall in love and get married. That's stuff of romance novels, I'm not here for that." Geez, she thought. Who was she trying to convince him or herself?
With that she fell silent while eating her ice cream. Erik stared at her for a moment, decided arguing would be pointless and repetitive, and proceeded to much his chocolate in silence. That evening Tammy introduced him to not only pirates but Timeline, Zorro, Star Wars, and Batman. He was fascinated most by Star wars. He wanted to know how to make one of those laser swords, how could they film in space, who was this obi wan fellow?
Tammy however, couldn't answer his questions because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Carefully he woke her enough for her to walk back to the lair where she dived onto the couch. Despite what she said earlier he had a nagging suspicion that she wasn't telling all the happened with the count. He didn't want her to leave, not yet.