Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera in any of its mediums. Nor do I own X-Men: Evolution.

Thanks very much to Tailfeather and Readerrr Grrrl. Lo, the chapter is updated Saturday, as I have promised. : )

It is my sneaky, tricksy plan to update now, and hope that this story may stay on the first pageduring the timeno-one may review or update/post, as ff.n says will happen from Sunday to Tuesday. My next update should be on Wednesday.

P.S - 'vicissitudes' means changes, for everyone who didn't know. I sure didn't.

Chapter Six: Minor Vicissitudes

"Where the hell is he?" Lance exclaimed for the umpteenth time. "It's been over four hours already!"

"Actually, it's been over five." Todd commented, eyeing a tiny moth that was fluttering innocently near the television screen. "But really man, calm down. He'll have to come back sometime. All the free food is here."

As opposed to Lance, who had spent most of the morning pacing about the first floor, Todd had used his time productively. He had first wandered outside, and set himself entirely to the task of catching enough bugs to satisfy his appetite. This had put an end to his foul mood, as fresh air and the focus of a satisfying fly-hunt always did wonders for him. After his 'brunch', he had come back inside and helped an agitated Lance pick the fan up off the coffee table and store it in the front hall closet. Aside from the obvious lack of ceiling fan and several scratches in the wood surface of the table, the living room had suffered no major damage. Then, in an act of bravery that surprised both Lance and himself, Todd had worked up the nerve to climb halfway up the third flight of steps, in order to throw another bottle of Dr. Pepper up onto the third floor. For as Todd had explained, they 'couldn't be too careful' and appeasing the ghost at this point was probably the best idea.

The rest of the time, Todd had busied himself with watching TV and snapping his tongue out at the occasional insect.

"Dammit, this isn't funny!" Lance growled, flopping down onto the couch next to Todd. "This is a waste of my time and yours! I'll bet you anything Fred just wanted to get out of the house."

"Eh, I don't think that's it, dude. Fred couldn't make up a lie that creative--about a ghost expert chick, an' all. Most likely he ran into an all-you-can-eat restaurant opening along the way, an' is in the process of ruining their business as we speak."

"You're probably right." Lance muttered, glaring up at the blank TV screen (Todd had turned it off ten minutes ago because there had been absolutely nothing on). "But if Blob boy doesn't get back here in five minutes--"

Lance was interrupted as he heard the front door slam open, and the familiar low voice call out: "I'm back!"

"You were sayin', man?" Todd smirked slightly, then leapt off the couch and bounced into the main room. Lance followed him, curious to see exactly what Fred had brought back to the Boardinghouse.

The Blob himself was standing in the doorway, looking very proud of himself.

"Dude, what took you so long?" Lance asked, letting his severe irritation come through in his tone.

Fred looked sheepish. "Well...I found Martha really quickly. She was in study hall. But she didn't wanna skip school 'cause she had homework to hand in and a math quiz and stuff. So I just stayed at school until it ended. Then we left."

"We? What we?" Todd asked. "Where's the ghost expert?"

"Behind here." Replied a plain and straightforward voice. "Freddy, would you mind shifting ever so slightly to the left? I want to meet your friends."

Fred did as he was bid, and the ghost expert stepped out from behind him and into the house.

She didn't look at all the way Lance had expected her to look. He'd assumed that when Freddy had compared her to Rogue, he had meant that the ghost expert dressed in a Gothic style as well. But this girl was no Goth. Had it not been for the black combat boots and loose t-shirt, he would have taken her for a prep. Her backpack was free of pen scribbles, her jeans were untorn, and the sweatshirt tied around her waist screamed Old Navy, even though it sported no label. Also, she wore no makeup, and her short hair was tied back with an elastic.

But no style of dress or clothing could have possibly prepared Lance for what happened next.

Grinning hugely, the girl stepped forward and held out her hand to Todd. He reached out hesitantly, only for the girl to snatch it and give him a vigorous handshake.

"How do you do?" The girl said. "My name's Martha Oren, and I'm very pleased to meet you! Whoever you happen to be. What's your name?"

"Um...Todd. Todd Tolansky." Todd said. He looked a little unnerved, which was understandable.

Giving Todd another smile, Martha stepped over to Lance and shook his hand as well.

"And you are?" She asked.

"Lance Alvers." Lance said, shaking her hand back. This chick was forceful, he could tell that by the handshake. But if her politeness was anything to go by, she was gonna be a helluva lot nicer than Tabby.

"Now." Martha said. "Fred tells me you have a poltergeist in your house."

"A polty-wha?" Todd asked, making a confused face.

"A poltergeist." Martha repeated. "A restless spirit, often the remains of a chaotic person who has died a messy or painful death. These types of ghosts are rather dangerous, and can cause severe damage to a house and its occupants by locking doors and moving objects." She shrugged her shoulders. "Fred's description of the activities your ghost performed today seem to indicate that it's a poltergeist."

"See? I told you she was an expert." Freddy beamed.

"I can't really be sure until I have made a full analysis, though." Martha continued. "So I need you boys to tell me everything that's happened today, down to the last minute detail. Okeyday?"

"Um...sure." Lance said. He was still unsure as to whether Martha was mentally stable or not (so many people he came across weren't) but she seemed to know her stuff. So he motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen. The two other Brotherhood members followed behind her.

tbc.