The Visitor
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/ Phantom of the Opera Crossover
Summary- When passing through France with Dru, Spike met a charming young opera singer, whom had suddenly shot to fame at The Paris Opera House. While Dru was off gallivanting he often courted her, hearing of her mysterious Phantom Erik who had trained her and how she loved him, unlike the meddling Vicomte de Chagny. Spike killed the Vicomte and changed the singer, who later changed her Angel of Music. 120 years later Buffy's in trouble, and there is only one vampire that can help, but Spike hasn't seen her in 100 years.
A/N- This has been finished for a while, I've been really forgetful. It will have some major revisions done but for now, tell me what you think.
Chapter One
Spike cursed as he ambled down the alley, taking a drag from his cigarette, then tossing it to the ground. His fiery eyes shot up as a bird screeched over him, a sign of trouble looming. He saw the shadowy figure ahead and grinned sardonically. It had been too long.
He drew closer and now he could see gleaming white that showed in the moon, shoving his hands into his pockets he leaned against the brock wall, close enough to converse.
"You's better have a really good excuse from draggin' me away from me girl tonight, Erik." Spike spat, glaring as the shape of the white mask was better defined.
He could almost see Erik smile. "Just be grateful you have enough fortune to have someone to go home to, Spike. Don't be a deranged cur."
Spike shook his head. "Now is that any way to talk to your grandsire?"
Erik chuckled. "It is only a shame your 'daughter' couldn't scold me."
"Is that the only reason you came lookin' for me? Your little songbird dumped you off the bandwagon and you ain't got nothin' better to do?"
"You know damn well Christine left 80 years ago because of your loony girlfriend!" Erik snapped.
Spike paused. "What do ya want?"
"You promised me my concerto back when you were done wooing your slayer."
Spike grimaced. "Oh, well it's at the place, I guess we could go run for it, but the dawn's a comin' and I'd hate to have you have to stay at me place."
Erik smiled. "Good."
August, 1883– Two years after the incidents at the Paris Opera
Spike fixed his tailcoat, running his fingers through his hair he fancied himself in a puddle and made his way into Palais Garnier. Christine was waiting for him as she had promised by the pillar just outside Le Café del'opéra. She smiled, took his offered arm and they went in.
They sat and he ordered them some wine. "So Mlle., why ever did you leave the Vicomte de Chagny to return here?"
"M., I do not love Raoul de Chagny. That's what this all was about, twas a love triangle and a foolish one! If I'd ignored that fool I never would have left the opera and my Angel would never have done what he did."
"This Angel of yours, who is he?"
"You see Monsieur, most call him 'Le Fantôme del'opéra', but he is living and breathing just as you and I are."
'Or so you think.' Spike thought.
"The Phantom of the Opera? Christine, may I call you that?" She nodded. "Christine why would they call him that?"
"Oh he is quite tricky I admit, but he is also an ingenious composer, inventor, architect.. I could go on! But Erik is such a kind soul when you just listen to him!"
"I see," Spike said. "Christine I would like to meet this genius of yours."
"Oh I don't know, Erik doesn't like me bringing others to the cellars."
He smiled, watching her blush at the gesture. "Oh, I wouldn't want him upset with you. Why don't you schedule for him to meet us somewhere? I will see you again next Thursday in the Bois to discuss it!"
"All right Monsieur, I will talk to him."
"And please," He said, standing, kissing her hand. "Call me William." And so he left money to pay for the drinks.
Present Day
"Dawn, did you take my earrings?"
"Yes."
"Well give them back."
"No."
Buffy Summers emerged from the bathroom, glaring at her grinning younger sister. "Excuse me?"
"Buffy, you're hardly authoritative, so knock it off." Dawn grinned. "On my dressing table."
Buffy rolled her eyes and went into her sister's room. She took up the gold earrings, an old gift from Angel back in the day, and went back to the bathroom. She was losing her temper to see it was occupied.
"Dawn, we're a little old for these games, aren't we?"
"What are you talking about?" Buffy turned to find her sister behind her.
Buffy pointed to the door. "If you're there, who's..."
Dawn's eyes widened and so Buffy cautiously tried the handle, it worked. She then motioned for Dawn to go into the other room, and swung open the door.
"Hello luv, sorry if I scared ya but I got meself , a , well." Spike turned and showed Buffy his gashed cheek.
"Oh my God Spike, what the hell got a hold of you?"
Spike chuckled maliciously. "Le Fantôme."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Translation please?"
Spike removed the ice. "Erik, the Phantom of the Paris Opera. Ruined a manuscript of his, it's about 122 years old."
Buffy looked at him. "Phantom of the... Oh, hey I saw that show! You got beat uo by an actor?"
Spike shook his head. "It's more than some British chum's show. Gaston Leroux based his 1911 novel on a true story. He just missed the part about vampires."
Buffy leaned against the doorway. "I'm listening."
Paris, 1884
Spike watched the soprano flourish before him. Tonight was the night. He boldly kissed her hand and led her to a dark, swank alley near the Boulevard des Capucines. It didn't take long for her to allow him access to her flawless white neck, she had learned from her time with Erik that it was one of many of the most pleasurable parts of the human anatomy. What she didn't know, was that this kiss wouldn't be so pleasurable.
He never forgot the look her green eyes gave him, fearful, heartbroken and in pain. He let some of the sweet blood remain in her, so that he could talk to her before she drank of him.
"Don't worry love, you won't really die." He promised. "I haven't betrayed you." He used her fingernails to draw blood from his chest and laid her lips to it, feeling her instinct take over. His hands raked gently through her brown ringlets, and he felt the last of her life slip from her pulse. Sadly, he lowered Christine Daaé to the ground, and went to wait.
Buffy looked at the blue rug on the floor. "So you sired her?"
Spike nodded, removing a cotton bud from his cheek. "Was known as the most angelic vampire of all time, and I was proud to cal her me handywork."
Buffy smiled softly. "You loved her, didn't you?"
He looked up sharply. "What makes you say that?"
"You reassured her while you were killing her." Buffy sighed. "Wish some people had shown me the same decency."
Spike smiled. "I suppose I did, she was a charming girl. Just a girl too, naught but 18." He sighed sadly. "A week after she rose she changed her Erik and I spent 20 years with the both of them, raiding opera houses and killing the lot of people who had made Erik miserable."
Buffy nodded and made to help work with the somewhat minor wound. "I guess this ruins moonwatching."
He smiled. "Course not luv, when do I ever ruin time spent with you?"
Chapter 2 coming soon
