The Crossover of DOOM

by Aerohead

Written with Kire Evoli - The characters of Wicked take on the characters of the Phantom of the Opera in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity

1. Default Chapter

Title: The Crossover of DOOM

Author: Aerohead and Kire Evoli

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Christine v. Glinda, Raoul v. Boq, Carlotta v. Mme Morrible, Meg v. Elphaba, Piangi v. Dr. Dillamond, Mme. Giry v. Nessarose, Andre v. Crope, Firmin v. Tibbett, Nadir v. Avaric, Ayesha v. Malky, and Misses Milla, Pfannee, and Shen Shen versus the Opera Populaire dancers

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: Wicked is the work of L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman, while The Phantom of the Opera is the work of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Charles Hart, and Richard Stilgoe

Warning: Absolutely nothing

Genre: General, mostly humor

Summary: The characters of Wicked take on the characters of The Phantom of the Opera in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity.

Author's Notes: This came out of a conversation with Kire Evoli about the song "Masquerade" and how it's always stuck in our heads because of our friend. Then we started talking about what would happen if her favorite book/musical and my favorite book/musical collided…and…this idea was spawned. The "pairings" are what we came up with last night as who would fight whom. Well, except for Erik and Fiyero, who, instead of fighting, will be commentators.

Part One

Fiyero walked into the dark room, not exactly sure of where he was. He stopped to let his eyes adjust, before looking around. The room he was in was something akin to an auditorium, with two seats behind a dark oak desk

He went over to the desk and ran a hand over it, looking at the auditorium's floor. He knew he wasn't in Oz anymore, but that wasn't what was bothering him. What bothered him was that Elphaba wasn't with him, though the last thing he could remember was being with her.
Erik glared down at the awkward figure standing on the stage. He had been waiting in his box for the rehearsals to begin. He surely wasn't part of the production, what was he doing on stage now? Had he not heard the noises? "You! What are you doing down there?" Erik no longer felt the need to hide from the performers for they all knew very well that he was in fact alive. They had also given up on trying to kill him, with the help of Christine Daaé's begging. "Rehearsals are about to begin. You can't stand there!"

Fiyero turned around and looked for the place where the voice had come from. He saw a man standing above him in the…theatre. He was on a stage? He gaped in abject horror, before clearing his throat. "I'm…I'm looking for a woman of very…peculiar looks. I don't believe you've seen her?" he said, trying his best to mimic the voice he had put on many times before not only as a prince but as the captain of the Royal Guards, also. He stared up at the masked man, waiting for an answer. "And I am not moving until I find her!" he said hotly. He had to force himself not to cross his arms like a spoilt child.

"Who exactly are you looking for? There are many women here of very… peculiar… looks." He mocked as he stood in front of the newcomer and watched as his expression changed from stubborn to confused. "Still, you need to get out of the way. Here, sit at this…" He noticed the desk that wasn't a common feature of the stage. "Desk?" His voice rose in befuddlement. "What is this desk doing here?" He asked the clueless man as he too ran his fingers over it as if it would give him an answer.

"Believe me; they're not as peculiar as Elphaba." Fiyero muttered his breath, before looking up at the other man. He was slightly shorter, even when holding himself perfectly upright, and so it was hard for him to look in the other man's eyes…eye? He shook his head, deciding not to think about it, and averted his gaze back to the desk. "Yes, it's a desk." He said blandly. "And if you don't know who she is, then apparently you haven't seen her; she'd be a very hard woman to miss, given her…skin…condition." He said delicately, flopping down into one of the chairs. "So…where am I? I know I'm not in Oz anymore…the last thing I remember is being with Elphaba in a…err…never mind." He said, waiting for an answer.

"You are In France good sir." Erik replied "You came from Oz? Where is Oz? I've never heard of it before." His nose wrinkled at the thought of a city he didn't know of and he sat down in the chair next to the man. "Also, I've never heard of anyone named Elphaba. Perhaps you're delusional? What is your name?"

"France?" Fiyero looked at the man next to him. "Well, I suppose we're both at a loss; I've never heard of France before…nor nothing off of our small island country." He shrugged, and started to play with a pen on the desk. "I'm Prince…"

"FIYERO!" He winced, and nodded.

"Prince Fiyero, of the Vinkus." He said, rather glum, before he turned. His mood lifted, but the worry in the pit of his stomach was still there as he was attacked by the petite blonde woman.

"Fiyero! Where in Oz are we?" Glinda asked.

"That's the problem…we're not. Have you seen Elphaba?" Glinda looked up.

"Elphaba? No. She left the Palace with…with you." She said, dejected. She looked up at the man sitting next to Fiyero, and cocked her head. "Oh! How rude of me! I'm Glinda the Good, of the Upper Uplands. And you are?" she asked, curtseying in her light blue ball gown.

Erik's eyes grew wide. "I'm… Erik.." He responded to the perky blonde who seemed to have too much energy for being lost. "What is Oz? Fiyero? Prince of Vinkus?" he shook his head, all of this information confusing him to no end. He looked up as a few random ballet girls roamed off onto the stage and began their stretches, hardly noticing the desk and the group that was around it. They were soon followed by an older woman carrying a large stick in her hand which she often pounded on the floor, more than needed. "Madame Giry."

The woman looked out at the desk. "Monsieur Opera Ghost?"
"Where did this desk come from?"

"I do not know sir. It has been here since this morning. I didn't dare move it. We shall dance around it. You have company?" She asked noticing the two other figures.

Glinda looked at the dancers with wide blue eyes. "Look, Fiyero!" she gushed.

"I see, Glinda." He said, looking instead at the woman, this Madame Giry as Erik had called her. "And it's the Vinkus, it's a part of the country of Oz…oh, never mind!" he said, but his eyes widened and he smiled brightly as he saw someone come onto the stage.

She was confused, and she was obviously annoyed, but it was definitely Elphaba. "Elphaba." He breathed.

"Elphie." Said Glinda tersely.

Elphaba turned and Fiyero went over to her, kissing her on the cheek for fear of hurting Glinda more. "I was worried." He said quietly.

"Where are we?" she demanded. Fiyero pointed to Erik.

"According to this man we're in France."

"…France?" Elphaba said dubiously. Fiyero nodded and pulled her over to the desk.

"This is Erik," he said to her, he turned to Erik and pointed to Elphaba. "And this is Elphaba." He said, giving an Erik that clearly said he wasn't delusional. Elphaba was staring at the desk.

"There's a note on the desk."

"There's a what where?" Fiyero asked.

Glinda's eyes widened, and she glared at the green woman. "That wasn't there before. I'm sure it wasn't." she said. "How do you always manage to do this? How can you have more innate magic than me? I'm Glinda the Good, and you're…well…"

"The Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Elphaba in a monotone. "Regardless, there's a note To Monsieur Opera Ghost and the Winkie Prince. I'm guessing that's the two of you." Elphaba said, picking the envelope up and holding it out to Erik.

Erik took the note from the green woman, a sight his eyes had to take in for a moment. He opened it carefully trying to ignore the panting of the excited blonde who was trying to read the note over the obviously taller man's shoulder. He coughed as if to let her know that he knew she was there and read the note aloud.

Dear Monsieur Opera Ghost and Prince Fiyero,
There has been some massive amounts of arguing over which is the better musical. We, as the deciding committee have decided to let you prove yourselves and your musical to be the best. The members of Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera and the members of Stephen Schwartz's WiCKED will be forced into a battle of the best, where you all shall compete against each other to win the reputation of 'Best Musical.' Recruit your teams wisely, and choose who is against who. The decision is all yours, for you two are the captains of your teams. Give it your all, we shall be watching.
We leave you with much adoring affection.

"A battle?" Madame Giry asked, obviously not very fond of the idea.
"I don't think it's meant to be a real battle." He replied staring at Glinda again who had a dumbfounded smile plastered on her face.

"A battle?" Glinda repeated, staring from Erik to Fiyero and back.

Elphaba's face had become grim, and she ran her tongue over her lower lip as she thought. "'…we shall be watching…'? So, they think our lives are something to play with?" Her dark eyes blazed. "I'd bet all the jewels on Nessarose's shoes the Wizard has something to do with…Nessarose!" Elphaba looked at Fiyero fiercely. "She's not here, is she?"

"I haven't seen her." He said, trying to appease her. He pushed Glinda over towards Elphaba gently so he could stand next to Erik. "So…this is a battle? It doesn't say of what, does it?" He turned a critical eye over the stage. "It doesn't appear that Elphaba or Glinda's main talents would be useful here."

"Oh, don't take Glinda too lightly, she could redecorate everything until they give up at the sheer amount of pink she'd use." Elphaba said. Glinda sucked in an annoyed breath.

Fiyero sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Sometimes I wish I was something inanimate; then I wouldn't have to have this problem." He muttered to himself, before turning back to Erik. "Since this seems to be your…well…'musical's' territory," he had to stop so he could get rid of the image of the Philosophy Club that decided to make itself known in his mind, "then why don't you pick your 'team' first." He said, sitting down in his chair.

"'Musical'? The only music I've ever sung are the hymns my father forced me to sing as a child to show that the Unnamed One loves all people, even the ones whom He cursed." Elphaba muttered to herself.

Erik shook his head having no idea what the three were talking about. Especially the green one. "Pick my 'team' first. Well then, Madame Giry, you're on my team."

"Oh no sir, I can't I mustn't I have ballet…I.."

"Then the chorus girls are on my team too. Where is everyone else?" Erik questioned her knowing that the set rehearsal time was nearly fifteen minutes ago. "Zere is no way I am wearing dis!" Screamed a woman who stormed on stage right through the stretching ballet girls. "It dus not fit right! I can't wear it! Nonono."

Erik rolled his eyes at the woman, very used to her usual complaints. He watched as she was followed out by the two dim-witted greedy managers. Another usual.

"Signora! Please! We can have it fixed!" The two men yelled, practically in unison

"No! I vill not…" She looked up at the desk and noticed the young foreign prince. "Oh my! Who 'ave we 'ere?" She put on her diva smile and strode closer to Fiyero.

Elphaba watched this new woman walk onto the stage trailed by the two men with little enthusiasm. However, when she started over towards Fiyero, she stood between her lover and the oddly dressed woman, her pointed face holding a look that would scare a brave Lion. She plucked Glinda's wand out of her hand and pointed it directly at Carlotta's chest.

"You ugly stuffed peacock, I don't need to use this to turn you into something much more useful. But you listen to me, if I were you, I would get as far away from Fiyero as possible if you want to keep that nauseating head on that shrunken neck of yours." She hissed.

Fiyero coughed, looking at Elphaba. "Elphie? Can you please not brutally maim other people?" he asked. She straightened so that she was taller than Carlotta, and forced the wand back into Glinda's hands.

"Well, we have to make our team, I suppose…" the young man looked at the two young women next to him. "Elphaba, Glinda, will you be on my team?" he asked.

Glinda batted her eyelashes. "Of course, Dearest." She said, receiving a frown from Elphaba, who merely nodded.

"Alright…well…we need more people from our, uh…musical…?" he said, confused.

There was a clatter and a scream, and three girls in party dresses much like Glinda's ball gown came out from the wings.

"Why aren't we at Glinda's ball?" Screeched the red-headed woman as she tripped over a dancer and glared.

"Pfannee?" Glinda asked, eyes widening.

"Really, I'm ruining my best party dress." Said the dark woman, huffing as she lifted her skirts and underskirt to walk over the same dancer, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"How can anyone stretch like that?" asked a small blonde woman, grimacing as her small legs jumped over a second dancer.

"Milla? Shen Shen?" Glinda practically squealed as she ran over to her friends and hugged them.

Fiyero's face dropped. "Great, we get Misses MillaPfanneeandShenShen on our team." Elphaba said, deadpan.

Carlotta backed away from Elphaba. "The green woman is mad!" She screeched as she backed right into her confidence booster. "Ubaldo! Zat woman inzulted me! How dare she!" She growled as her ego built up again from the comfort of her simple minded lover.

Ubaldo patted her head gently. "I think the dress looks great."

"I zink it makes me look fat, look at zese sleeves! Eh? No no. Too fat. I want a new one." She looked up from Ubaldo's embrace to demand it from her managers who sighed and looked incredibly annoyed.

"But Christine!"

"Raoul stop it!" Christine shouted as she ran onto the crowded stage.

Erik, who hadn't spoken since he chose his first few team members looked up at the young brunette and smiled. "Christine." He called, walking towards her.

"Please! Darling! Angel! Give me another chance! I know I can please you! Besides, we haven't even really tried!" Raoul pleaded as he chased the fleeing Christine around the stage and through the crowd.

"Ick! Raoul! Stop!" She yelled as he caught up with her and grabbed her arm to pull her close. "Let me go!"

"Darling! Give me a try!" He moaned seductively as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Ach!" Christine yelped as she smacked him across the face to hesitate his actions.

Before Raoul had time to recover from the smack Erik whacked the back of his head. "It was over before it even began. Give it up." He said taking Christine into his arms and leading her over towards the desk. "All of these people are on my team." He said waving his hand in their direction.

Something clattered distantly, and Fiyero's head whipped around. He wasn't used to being in a theatre, and it was making him nervous, especially the woman Elphaba had called a peacock. He snickered to himself, before seeing someone in one of the chairs.

He squinted against the oil lamps, before laughing. "Boq?" he asked.

"I…just…fell out of the sky…" Boq said to himself, before looking down at himself. His eyes widened and he smiled. "I'm…I'm human!"

"Of course you are, why wouldn't you be?" Glinda asked, breaking away from her giggling compatriots.

"Glinda!" he said, pulling himself out of the chair. He started up to the stage, but Elphaba got in his way. "Stay away from me, Elph…you Wicked Witch." He said.

"Boq" Fiyero said, looking at his friend strangely.

"Boq, where's Nessarose?" she asked.

"How should I know? I left after you…you…" he looked down at himself. "Did you do this?" he asked incredulously.

"Will it get you to be civil?" she asked. She shrugged. "Then, yes, I turned you back into a…"

"Boq?" asked someone from the stairs.

"Nessa?" Elphaba asked, pushing past Boq to go to Nessarose. "Nessa!"

"That's Nessa?" Glinda said, her mouth hanging open. "But she's…she's…"

"She's walking!" Pfannee said, her eyes nearly popping out of her sockets.

"How did the seaweed's sister learn to walk?" Shen Shen asked.

Elphaba led Nessarose to the stage and sat her sister down into the chair Erik had been sitting in. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine…but…Avaric was here, too…he was in the lobby." She said, staring at Boq dazedly.

"Avaric's here?" Fiyero asked. "Oh, sweet Oz!" he groaned.

Avaric walked through the doors of the Opera House with a flourish and took the steps two at a time, pushing his perfect hair out of his eyes as he came, a self-gratifying smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, well, well…now, why are we here?" he asked.

"We're having a battle of wits…I have no idea why you're here for that." Elphaba said.

Avaric came up onto the stage with a mild-mannered shrug. "You're just jealous, Miss Elphaba."

"J-Jealous!" Elphaba spluttered.

"Ignore him." Glinda said.

Nessarose rubbed her heel as she looked at Fiyero. "So…we're fighting these people?" the young woman asked. Fiyero nodded.

"I guess these people will also be on my team." He said with a shrug. "So, should we pair them up to see who fights whom, or should we wait and see who else shows…"

"A theatre?" Fiyero groaned.

"This one's even bigger than the one in the Emerald City!" Two young men came down the stairs much in the same fashion as Avaric, but they were chittering to each other as they stared at the seats and the pit and mostly the stage. "Crope, we must have some fun here!"

"But how are we? I don't think this belongs to the theatre program of Oz, so I have no jurisdiction over it."

Tibbett scoffed. "You have no jurisdiction over any of the theatres in Oz, you just give them your patronage…and…and…" Tibbett stopped. "The last thing I remember I was dying…why am I here?"

Erik stared in utter confusion at the amount of wild characters that now stood in his theatre. "This is insane. We're supposed battle? This is for real?" He looked back at Fiyero, the other team's captain hoping that he might have an answer.

"What is going on here?"

"Daroga? You're here too?" Erik turned to the Persian who entered from the side. "This is absolutely absurd. Who sent this note?"

"It was from 'them'." Madame Giry said specifying once again that the letter's owner was unknown.

"I know that!" Erik scoffed as he called to Fiyero. "You, I suppose we should pair up the members now? I don't think anymore should be coming.." He looked around at his team. Christine was in his arms, shooing away a Raoul who was practically drooling. Carlotta was yelling at Piangi about the green woman and her insult to her appearance. Madame Giry was trying to keep her dancers in order while her daughter Meg was attempting to steal her stick. Andre and Firmin were eyeing the two flamboyantly dressed men and Nadir was watching the stage, out of place and unsure of exactly what to do. "I guess this is my team." Erik announced as he moved back over to chairs and sat in the empty one next to the girl with the glittering shoes.

Fiyero turned to Erik at the comment, then turned back to the people he knew. Glinda, Pfannee, Milla, and Shen Shen were all giggling and talking to themselves, occasionally glancing at the dancers. Elphaba had gone over to Nessarose to help her with her ankle which appeared to be bothering her, only to discover the shoes wouldn't come off. Boq stood off to the side, watching Avaric as he surveyed not the theatre but the expense that was put into it. Crope and Tibbett were together on the stairs leading up to the stage, surveying not the expense, but the theatre itself. "Well, I suppose this is my team, as well…Lurline have mercy on me." He said. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess we should take our seats." He said, motioning the two chairs behind the table. Nessarose and Elphaba got away from the chairs, and Fiyero slouched down into one, rubbing his temples. "I already feel a headache coming on…"