Angelina bounces out followed by MW: She's excited, it's the last chappy!
Angie: (seizes bouncing and frowns )OH NO! No more Michael, no more Mirielle, no John... no Christine.. (sighs) Its sad!
MW: (smirks evilly) I wouldn't say that! Wait until August!
Wandering Children
Chapter 12- The Prologue
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Aidan sighed as Christine got up from his side. He watched her walk out the room and smiled, she looked so grown up. He could hardly believe she was the little sister he had spent his years with. Turning his head he looked at the sling that Jessamine and Christine had secured for him. "I'll be right back Aidan," Jessamine smiled tenderly at him before gently touching his cheek and getting up from the floor to leave the room.
Aidan watched her go and he tried to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder prevented him from such a movement. A disgruntled snort emitted from his nose as he used his other arm to prop himself up against the wall. "Take it easy or you'll never get better," another voice said. Aidan looked around the room and smirked seeing his father standing in the doorway.
"Papa," Aidan grinned as he finally got into a comfortable position, "I'm invincible." With a chuckle he looked up at his father, whose foot was in some of the blood that still dirtied the floor. "Your boots going to get ruined," he pointed out.
James snorted at his son's comment, "I'm not worried about my boot right now Aidan," crouching by his son he smirked, "I see the girls took care of you," he motioned towards the sling.
Laughing he nodded his head in agreement, "Oui Papa, the girls did take it upon themselves to bandage me up; although I insisted I was going to be fine." With a smirk he added, "A reference to the Black Knight was made."
Ruffling his son's hair James stood up from his crouched position and stood near the mirror. "Just make sure you don't strain yourself, trust me, you're better off healing quickly than prolonging it."
Aidan smirked, "Advice from experience?" he questioned with an amused expression decorating his face, which had a few lines of blood on it from when the girls were tapping his cheeks.
"The best kind," James grinned as the mirror started to change. Before disappearing behind the mirror he turned back to his son and grinned, "One last thing, you need a new partner." With that said the father disappeared behind the mirror, leaving his son on the floor with his thoughts.
Just as Aidan was about to hoist himself up with his right arm, he cursed Dante for shooting him in his dominant arm, Jessamine walked back into the room. She smiled and kneeled back on the ground next to him.
"Je suis désolée," Jessamine grinned, "I had to help Krissy with something. I hope you weren't too bored while I was gone."
Chuckling he took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. He grinned as a blush crept forward on her cheeks. "I was just thinking on something." She tilted her head to the side and Aidan smiled a mysterious and mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How do you think 'Jessamine and Aidan, partners in crime' sounds?"
James watched from behind the mirror and he smiled as Jessamine flung herself at his son, received by a wince of pain. James laughed as she recoiled and he saw her pepper his son with apologies, softer hugs, and butterfly kisses. "You did good son," he said to himself proudly before descending down into the underground house.
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Mirielle left John in the hotel room. She told him this was something she needed to do alone. With a regretful sigh she had opened the door of the hovercraft and sat in the driver's seat. She remembered how it was in New London, if she had ever been upset, or in a fight with her mother, or anyone for that matter, she would climb into the car and just drive. But right now, she needed some support. Driving down the surprisingly quiet Parisian streets she stopped in front of the large brick building and sighed, "It's now or never."
She climbed out of the car and dragged herself to the door. With a heavy heart she knocked quietly. "I should have figured he's not home..." she said sadly as she went to turn away, but then the door creaked open before she stepped off the stoop.
"Tic," Leroux greeted her as she turned around, that look of solemn melancholy still plastered on her face. "Tic, what's wrong?" concern tinged his voice as she walked into the flat without a word and sat down on the couch. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard Leroux poured some freshly brewed tea and handed it to her, "Now what's wrong?" he asked again.
"Oh Uncle Etienne," she groaned as she set the tea down on the coffee table, not even taking a sip of the warm and steamy liquid. "I messed up..." she sighed, slouching down and sinking into the soft mass of sofa underneath her.
A sympathetic smile crossed the older man's face, "We all mess up sometimes Tic, its part of life." He couldn't help but smile as she looked so much like her mother for a brief second as an irritated grunt escaped her and she crossed her arms. Furrowed brows and pursed lips decorated her red and miserable face as he saw the tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she tried to blink them away.
"No Uncle Etienne," she growled angrily. "Dad doesn't mess up, and neither does Mum! They always figure it out and they always get the good end of the deal! Why did I mess up Uncle Etienne, why?!" She continued to hold back her angry tears. Everything was so confusing for her. "I'm sorry Uncle, but I can't work here in Paris. I need to go home," she held herself firm, although her voice lightly cracked.
Ettiene was about to speak when a soprano voice rang out, "Then Mademoiselle Holmes, it is a sad day for my city."
Mirielle's head snapped up as the blue-eyed Phantom walked in. With an elegant grace, the Phantom sat down across from her and crossed his legs. Mirielle felt such loathing right now for him. Her eyes narrowed at him while the Phantom merely smiled. Raising a hand, it removed it's mask.
Mirielle nearly fainted as Erika Noir stared back at her. The diva was the Phantom. Erik removed the black hat as well, allowing her dark curls to flow around her face. Mirielle looked at her uncle who returned with a cup for Erika. He was completely at ease with Erika.
Mirielle jumped up, "What is going on?"
Erika smiled sadly at her, "Sit my dear. I think it's high time I told you a story."
"Michael is the Phantom." Mirielle tried to reason, "He was wearing the mask. He was the one who broke into Downing street. How could you be the same?"
"It's simple, I'm the real one. My son is merely preparing for taking over for me. He was taking my place when I was poisoned."
"I'm such a fool. My parents would never have fallen for any of this." Mirielle groaned as she sank into her seat, "You must have thought I was such a little girl."
"Why are you beating yourself up, little Holmes?"
"I failed, utterly failed. There is no way I can retrieve the information or arrest the culprit," Mirielle cried softly.
"You didn't fail. You help save a young lady's life and your brother saved my daughter from harm." Erika reminded her, "For that I'm in your debt. So what if my sons got away? You saved two lives that would have been lost if you didn't come."
Mirielle looked at Erika's serene face, "But Michael..."
"I know you are hurting. I can't tell you how to heal a broken heart. The best thing is to move on and make changes. My son had no right to hurt you and I can't ask you to forgive him. I'm only asking that you think things through."
"I can't stay here. It's too hard."
"I know. I had a hard time returning to a place that I had run from, but I learned running away doesn't change anything, In fact it makes things worse. I know your mother, Mirielle."
"My mother wouldn't have screwed up this badly."
"She did once, just as I did. No one is perfect Mirielle. Your parents had as hard of a time unwrapping the mystery of the Opera House as you did and they stumbled. My own husband did."
Mirielle looked in shock as Erika's gloved hands reached forward and gripped hers. Erika smiled softly, "You must find your own way, my child. Your own destiny. Christine's is to be a singer. Michael's is to be the Phantom and Aidan's is to follow his father. Your brother's is to be a detective and yours is what you want it to be. Don't run away to New London when Paris needs a mind like yours."
"If you are trying to get me to stay because of Michael..."
"No, chère. I want you to stay because my city needs its own Holmes. You can do great things here. I hope you will think about it." Erika assured her before standing up, "Now I must go before James worries. Right now Nadir is distracting him with Michael's depression. Au Revior, Etienne, Mirielle. And remember your parents cast a long shadow in New London."
With that said, Erika walked out. Mirielle watched her go feeling a little bit better. Etienne smiled as some of the melancholy left her face. Erika was good at bringing people back to their original purpose.
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Christine stood nervously on the stage as John walked towards her. This was it. He was going back to New London having been pulled from the case. She felt sad that he failed and yet happy that her family was still safe for now. Christine looked at him with wide blue eyes, hoping that he will at least confirm that they will meet again.
John looked at the young woman in front of him and prayed to find the strength to say good bye without looking too much like a fool. Taking a deep breathe, John took her hands into his. Their eyes met and John felt his heart speed up.
"You are leaving now?" Christine asked softly.
: Yes, My shuttle leaves in an hour." John replied just as soft, "Christine I want you to come with me."
"I'm sorry, but I can't. My family needs me while Aidan recovers." Christine reasoned as she looked away.
John brought her hands up to his sight. He could still see them stained with blood as she tried to stop the bleeding. In his heart he knew that they would be apart. He was needed in New London by his father and she still had much to learn from her mother. John looked beyond her to where Michael stood looking forlorn. He knew something happened between Michael and Mirielle but neither would speak of it. And somehow John could understand that it was between them. Maybe he was growing up.
"I will hear from you, oui?" Christine whispered as she hugged him.
John hugged her back inhaling her sweet lilac scent, "Yes, I promise to write you when I can."
Christine smiled, "Letter writing? How sweet. I look forward to it. And I will write you back"
John grinned, "I'll look forward to that. I will read every review about you."
Christine getting into the spirit, "Maybe my mother's friend Lea will let me join the traveling troupe. They go to New London a lot."
"Then I won't miss a single performance." John promised, "Please think of me Christine. I know I won't forget you."
Christine smiled radiantly at him, "Oui, my knight."
Feeling rebellious and daring for a second time in Paris, John pulled Christine and gently touched her lips with his. Michael quirked an eyebrow but didn't object. He knew his little sister cared for the Holmes boy. Besides how could he deny her happiness? Aidan joined his brother. He knew what Michael was going through and with his good hand put a hand on his shoulder. Michael looked up at Aidan, whose arm was still in a sling. Gently he smiled to show that despite everything he was still the same.
Christine pulled away from John who hesitantly backed away. She fought the tears until he was gone. Turning, she walked towards her brother. Michael hugged her close offering comfort that she wasn't alone.
"His sister is staying. Her first day is tomorrow." Christine whispered to Michael. Aidan merely smirked as an idea flashed through Michael's mind. Aidan chuckled. He knew his brother wasn't going to stay away from the detective for long.
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Taking a deep breath she opened the door of the building. Looking down she looked at her new uniform. It wasn't as good as her New Scotland Yard one, but she would get used to it and hopefully be promoted quickly. Looking from side to side she stepped in, her new boots hitting the unfamiliar territory. As she walked further into the lobby she brushed against someone. He quietly pardoned himself and for a short second.
She looked at the stranger, he was wearing black pants and she could see a hint of a blue shirt, which poked out from underneath his jacket. She thought nothing of the black muffler which covered the bottom half of his face, nor the cap which covered the top. The only thing that really stood out to her were the piercing green eyes that jumped out at her. For one brief moment she had hoped it was Michael, but then pushed the thought aside as she heard someone say, "Mademoiselle Holmes?"
Tearing attention from the stranger she looked at the male inspector's badge. "Yes, Inspector Javert," she said looking up to his face. Biting back her smile she noticed his outlandish sideburns and cold eyes. She studied him for another second; his hair was dark and combed neatly, his uniform crisp and clean. He was probably the model officer in this branch of the police force. "I'd like to know where my work station is," she asked in a polite, but cool voice.
"Of course Mademoiselle," he nodded curtly and turned on his heel. He walked stiffly, with an air of supremacy about him as he led her towards another part of the station. She noticed a desk with 'Holmes,' written on the name plate, and flowers settled on. 'Uncle Leroux,' she thought with a smile.
Then, another officer sauntered up. Fox-like in appearance, he smirked as he hit Javert on the back, "Javert," his voice was hinted with mockery as he slapped the disgruntled man on the back, "back to being the gentleman I see?" he motioned towards Mirielle with a quick twitch of his neck.
Rolling his eyes Javert stepped away from the other man, "Chauvelin," he growled, "I suggest you keep your pointed nose out of other people's business," with a quick step Mirielle walked away while the two men continue to bicker about their trivial differences.
Mirielle delicately picked up the bouquet of lilies on her desk. Bringing them to her nose she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. She grinned happily as the flowery smell flowed into her nose. She saw a small folded card fall from the bushel and she picked it up. "Catch me if you can?" she read it out loud, the red ink showing up on the card as clear as day.
Suddenly, everything pulled together. The stranger, the lilies, the note, the phrase! It all hit her and she looked down at the flowers, which she had dropped at the moment of her revelation. A sad smile crossed her face as she sat down in her chair. She knew she would most likely never see Michael again... she had come to at least deal with that as best she could, but she knew she wouldn't be the only one thinking about the few wonderful weeks that had been shared under the strange circumstances that surrounded their meeting.
Angie: (seizes bouncing and frowns )OH NO! No more Michael, no more Mirielle, no John... no Christine.. (sighs) Its sad!
MW: (smirks evilly) I wouldn't say that! Wait until August!
Wandering Children
Chapter 12- The Prologue
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Aidan sighed as Christine got up from his side. He watched her walk out the room and smiled, she looked so grown up. He could hardly believe she was the little sister he had spent his years with. Turning his head he looked at the sling that Jessamine and Christine had secured for him. "I'll be right back Aidan," Jessamine smiled tenderly at him before gently touching his cheek and getting up from the floor to leave the room.
Aidan watched her go and he tried to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder prevented him from such a movement. A disgruntled snort emitted from his nose as he used his other arm to prop himself up against the wall. "Take it easy or you'll never get better," another voice said. Aidan looked around the room and smirked seeing his father standing in the doorway.
"Papa," Aidan grinned as he finally got into a comfortable position, "I'm invincible." With a chuckle he looked up at his father, whose foot was in some of the blood that still dirtied the floor. "Your boots going to get ruined," he pointed out.
James snorted at his son's comment, "I'm not worried about my boot right now Aidan," crouching by his son he smirked, "I see the girls took care of you," he motioned towards the sling.
Laughing he nodded his head in agreement, "Oui Papa, the girls did take it upon themselves to bandage me up; although I insisted I was going to be fine." With a smirk he added, "A reference to the Black Knight was made."
Ruffling his son's hair James stood up from his crouched position and stood near the mirror. "Just make sure you don't strain yourself, trust me, you're better off healing quickly than prolonging it."
Aidan smirked, "Advice from experience?" he questioned with an amused expression decorating his face, which had a few lines of blood on it from when the girls were tapping his cheeks.
"The best kind," James grinned as the mirror started to change. Before disappearing behind the mirror he turned back to his son and grinned, "One last thing, you need a new partner." With that said the father disappeared behind the mirror, leaving his son on the floor with his thoughts.
Just as Aidan was about to hoist himself up with his right arm, he cursed Dante for shooting him in his dominant arm, Jessamine walked back into the room. She smiled and kneeled back on the ground next to him.
"Je suis désolée," Jessamine grinned, "I had to help Krissy with something. I hope you weren't too bored while I was gone."
Chuckling he took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. He grinned as a blush crept forward on her cheeks. "I was just thinking on something." She tilted her head to the side and Aidan smiled a mysterious and mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How do you think 'Jessamine and Aidan, partners in crime' sounds?"
James watched from behind the mirror and he smiled as Jessamine flung herself at his son, received by a wince of pain. James laughed as she recoiled and he saw her pepper his son with apologies, softer hugs, and butterfly kisses. "You did good son," he said to himself proudly before descending down into the underground house.
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Mirielle left John in the hotel room. She told him this was something she needed to do alone. With a regretful sigh she had opened the door of the hovercraft and sat in the driver's seat. She remembered how it was in New London, if she had ever been upset, or in a fight with her mother, or anyone for that matter, she would climb into the car and just drive. But right now, she needed some support. Driving down the surprisingly quiet Parisian streets she stopped in front of the large brick building and sighed, "It's now or never."
She climbed out of the car and dragged herself to the door. With a heavy heart she knocked quietly. "I should have figured he's not home..." she said sadly as she went to turn away, but then the door creaked open before she stepped off the stoop.
"Tic," Leroux greeted her as she turned around, that look of solemn melancholy still plastered on her face. "Tic, what's wrong?" concern tinged his voice as she walked into the flat without a word and sat down on the couch. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard Leroux poured some freshly brewed tea and handed it to her, "Now what's wrong?" he asked again.
"Oh Uncle Etienne," she groaned as she set the tea down on the coffee table, not even taking a sip of the warm and steamy liquid. "I messed up..." she sighed, slouching down and sinking into the soft mass of sofa underneath her.
A sympathetic smile crossed the older man's face, "We all mess up sometimes Tic, its part of life." He couldn't help but smile as she looked so much like her mother for a brief second as an irritated grunt escaped her and she crossed her arms. Furrowed brows and pursed lips decorated her red and miserable face as he saw the tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she tried to blink them away.
"No Uncle Etienne," she growled angrily. "Dad doesn't mess up, and neither does Mum! They always figure it out and they always get the good end of the deal! Why did I mess up Uncle Etienne, why?!" She continued to hold back her angry tears. Everything was so confusing for her. "I'm sorry Uncle, but I can't work here in Paris. I need to go home," she held herself firm, although her voice lightly cracked.
Ettiene was about to speak when a soprano voice rang out, "Then Mademoiselle Holmes, it is a sad day for my city."
Mirielle's head snapped up as the blue-eyed Phantom walked in. With an elegant grace, the Phantom sat down across from her and crossed his legs. Mirielle felt such loathing right now for him. Her eyes narrowed at him while the Phantom merely smiled. Raising a hand, it removed it's mask.
Mirielle nearly fainted as Erika Noir stared back at her. The diva was the Phantom. Erik removed the black hat as well, allowing her dark curls to flow around her face. Mirielle looked at her uncle who returned with a cup for Erika. He was completely at ease with Erika.
Mirielle jumped up, "What is going on?"
Erika smiled sadly at her, "Sit my dear. I think it's high time I told you a story."
"Michael is the Phantom." Mirielle tried to reason, "He was wearing the mask. He was the one who broke into Downing street. How could you be the same?"
"It's simple, I'm the real one. My son is merely preparing for taking over for me. He was taking my place when I was poisoned."
"I'm such a fool. My parents would never have fallen for any of this." Mirielle groaned as she sank into her seat, "You must have thought I was such a little girl."
"Why are you beating yourself up, little Holmes?"
"I failed, utterly failed. There is no way I can retrieve the information or arrest the culprit," Mirielle cried softly.
"You didn't fail. You help save a young lady's life and your brother saved my daughter from harm." Erika reminded her, "For that I'm in your debt. So what if my sons got away? You saved two lives that would have been lost if you didn't come."
Mirielle looked at Erika's serene face, "But Michael..."
"I know you are hurting. I can't tell you how to heal a broken heart. The best thing is to move on and make changes. My son had no right to hurt you and I can't ask you to forgive him. I'm only asking that you think things through."
"I can't stay here. It's too hard."
"I know. I had a hard time returning to a place that I had run from, but I learned running away doesn't change anything, In fact it makes things worse. I know your mother, Mirielle."
"My mother wouldn't have screwed up this badly."
"She did once, just as I did. No one is perfect Mirielle. Your parents had as hard of a time unwrapping the mystery of the Opera House as you did and they stumbled. My own husband did."
Mirielle looked in shock as Erika's gloved hands reached forward and gripped hers. Erika smiled softly, "You must find your own way, my child. Your own destiny. Christine's is to be a singer. Michael's is to be the Phantom and Aidan's is to follow his father. Your brother's is to be a detective and yours is what you want it to be. Don't run away to New London when Paris needs a mind like yours."
"If you are trying to get me to stay because of Michael..."
"No, chère. I want you to stay because my city needs its own Holmes. You can do great things here. I hope you will think about it." Erika assured her before standing up, "Now I must go before James worries. Right now Nadir is distracting him with Michael's depression. Au Revior, Etienne, Mirielle. And remember your parents cast a long shadow in New London."
With that said, Erika walked out. Mirielle watched her go feeling a little bit better. Etienne smiled as some of the melancholy left her face. Erika was good at bringing people back to their original purpose.
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Christine stood nervously on the stage as John walked towards her. This was it. He was going back to New London having been pulled from the case. She felt sad that he failed and yet happy that her family was still safe for now. Christine looked at him with wide blue eyes, hoping that he will at least confirm that they will meet again.
John looked at the young woman in front of him and prayed to find the strength to say good bye without looking too much like a fool. Taking a deep breathe, John took her hands into his. Their eyes met and John felt his heart speed up.
"You are leaving now?" Christine asked softly.
: Yes, My shuttle leaves in an hour." John replied just as soft, "Christine I want you to come with me."
"I'm sorry, but I can't. My family needs me while Aidan recovers." Christine reasoned as she looked away.
John brought her hands up to his sight. He could still see them stained with blood as she tried to stop the bleeding. In his heart he knew that they would be apart. He was needed in New London by his father and she still had much to learn from her mother. John looked beyond her to where Michael stood looking forlorn. He knew something happened between Michael and Mirielle but neither would speak of it. And somehow John could understand that it was between them. Maybe he was growing up.
"I will hear from you, oui?" Christine whispered as she hugged him.
John hugged her back inhaling her sweet lilac scent, "Yes, I promise to write you when I can."
Christine smiled, "Letter writing? How sweet. I look forward to it. And I will write you back"
John grinned, "I'll look forward to that. I will read every review about you."
Christine getting into the spirit, "Maybe my mother's friend Lea will let me join the traveling troupe. They go to New London a lot."
"Then I won't miss a single performance." John promised, "Please think of me Christine. I know I won't forget you."
Christine smiled radiantly at him, "Oui, my knight."
Feeling rebellious and daring for a second time in Paris, John pulled Christine and gently touched her lips with his. Michael quirked an eyebrow but didn't object. He knew his little sister cared for the Holmes boy. Besides how could he deny her happiness? Aidan joined his brother. He knew what Michael was going through and with his good hand put a hand on his shoulder. Michael looked up at Aidan, whose arm was still in a sling. Gently he smiled to show that despite everything he was still the same.
Christine pulled away from John who hesitantly backed away. She fought the tears until he was gone. Turning, she walked towards her brother. Michael hugged her close offering comfort that she wasn't alone.
"His sister is staying. Her first day is tomorrow." Christine whispered to Michael. Aidan merely smirked as an idea flashed through Michael's mind. Aidan chuckled. He knew his brother wasn't going to stay away from the detective for long.
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Taking a deep breath she opened the door of the building. Looking down she looked at her new uniform. It wasn't as good as her New Scotland Yard one, but she would get used to it and hopefully be promoted quickly. Looking from side to side she stepped in, her new boots hitting the unfamiliar territory. As she walked further into the lobby she brushed against someone. He quietly pardoned himself and for a short second.
She looked at the stranger, he was wearing black pants and she could see a hint of a blue shirt, which poked out from underneath his jacket. She thought nothing of the black muffler which covered the bottom half of his face, nor the cap which covered the top. The only thing that really stood out to her were the piercing green eyes that jumped out at her. For one brief moment she had hoped it was Michael, but then pushed the thought aside as she heard someone say, "Mademoiselle Holmes?"
Tearing attention from the stranger she looked at the male inspector's badge. "Yes, Inspector Javert," she said looking up to his face. Biting back her smile she noticed his outlandish sideburns and cold eyes. She studied him for another second; his hair was dark and combed neatly, his uniform crisp and clean. He was probably the model officer in this branch of the police force. "I'd like to know where my work station is," she asked in a polite, but cool voice.
"Of course Mademoiselle," he nodded curtly and turned on his heel. He walked stiffly, with an air of supremacy about him as he led her towards another part of the station. She noticed a desk with 'Holmes,' written on the name plate, and flowers settled on. 'Uncle Leroux,' she thought with a smile.
Then, another officer sauntered up. Fox-like in appearance, he smirked as he hit Javert on the back, "Javert," his voice was hinted with mockery as he slapped the disgruntled man on the back, "back to being the gentleman I see?" he motioned towards Mirielle with a quick twitch of his neck.
Rolling his eyes Javert stepped away from the other man, "Chauvelin," he growled, "I suggest you keep your pointed nose out of other people's business," with a quick step Mirielle walked away while the two men continue to bicker about their trivial differences.
Mirielle delicately picked up the bouquet of lilies on her desk. Bringing them to her nose she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. She grinned happily as the flowery smell flowed into her nose. She saw a small folded card fall from the bushel and she picked it up. "Catch me if you can?" she read it out loud, the red ink showing up on the card as clear as day.
Suddenly, everything pulled together. The stranger, the lilies, the note, the phrase! It all hit her and she looked down at the flowers, which she had dropped at the moment of her revelation. A sad smile crossed her face as she sat down in her chair. She knew she would most likely never see Michael again... she had come to at least deal with that as best she could, but she knew she wouldn't be the only one thinking about the few wonderful weeks that had been shared under the strange circumstances that surrounded their meeting.