ok. sooooo sooooo sorry for the ridiculously long delay. yes, the story does continue. i hope you didn't give up on me. and i'd be more creative with my intro here but it's after three in the morning and really all i can concentrate on is the fact that my ear itches. (scratches ear)... nevermind. now there's nothing.

meanwhile...


After so bravely facing her teacher's rage, Tzipporah flopped on her bed and began to shake with fear. She could handle being yelled at and punished, but she never could take threats very well at all. It had taken all of her self control to keep herself from running away in a panicked frenzy when the Phantom threatened her life. As she sat there trying to stifle her crying, she made a vow to NEVER show ANY kind of hesitation or weakness to her teacher. The thought seemed to calm her; she got up and tried to cover any signs that she had been upset. Tzipporah looked at herself in the mirror disgusted, she never looked pretty when she cried. This was yet another one of her pet peeves, "Why is it that when famous people in movies cry it always looks good! Why can't I pull off the pretty crying stunt?" she asked herself as she washed her face. Tzipporah then noticed the "haunted" music box sitting on the stone floor. She cautiously picked it up. Then she listened at her door to be sure that nobody was there, and slowly twisted the lever. The song Masquerade filled the silent room. She stared at it as it played. Thoughts poured into her head.

"Great, I'm stuck here without my music and all I have to listen to is this. And there's no doubting this is going to get annoying after about five minutes. I could always go through my dear teacher's belongings. He must have at least one thing that would be good possible black mail. Or I could try and sneak out again later tonight, but then again if I get caught the Phantom will hang me from box 5 for all the world to see. Let's think of the pros and cons of this situation...Ah, screw it! I don't have the dang attention span for that stupid decision making crap." Tzipporah then sited the opera house program lying on her dresser. She opened it and smiled. There was a play going on tonight.

The Phantom returned after what seemed like twelve days. Really it was just a couple of hours, but Tzipporah had been starving and every moment without food in her stomach made her more and more impatient. She sprang from her bed as she heard the scrape of the Gondola on the stone floor, and went out as though to greet her teacher. Really she was just trying to find out if he had brought lunch with him.

"Tzipporah," he said with mock pleasantry, "How eagerly you greet me! Did you get lonely down here?" He emphasized the word lonely, trying to drive a point to an argument they hadn't had.

She wrinkled her brow at him briefly, obviously not understanding his tone. "What time is it?" She asked as her eyes danced around, trying to see behind him into the boat. He stood in her way for an unnecessary amount of time.

"It's about one in the afternoon," he replied, finally stepping aside so that Tzipporah could see into the Gondola. She let out a sigh at what she saw.

He had brought lunch, and a lot of it.

The Phantom saw the girl's eyes light up at the sight of that much food, and he couldn't help but smile. "I hope you're hungry." He said as he began getting things out of the boat and taking them to the table. Tzipporah helped him eagerly, her mouth salivating as the food she carried taunted her sense of smell. She began togrin subconsciously in anticipation of filling her deflated stomach.

Her teacher continued speaking as they passed each other on their way to bring more stuff to the table. "As soon as your lesson is over, we'll eat."

Tzipporah's smile fell over dead on her face. She was REALLY starting to hate her teacher. But she decided to keep an open mind. "Could I just have something to nibble before we start?" She asked innocently..

"No." She began to protest, but he cut her off as he continued, "Normally I'm not one to deny my students food, but we can't have anything coating your throat or tongue. You need all the help you can get."

"Thanks a lot." Tzipporah said, putting the last of the food onto the table and glaring at him.

"A pleasure, as always." He gave an evil bow and went to his piano. As soon as his back was turned, Tzipporah tried to pinch off a piece of bread to eat before they started.

"Touch that and I'll Punjab you." The phantom said, his back still turned.

Tzipporah growled. "Nazi." She said loudly.

The insult was lost on him, and after giving the piano a quizzical glance, he decided to ignore this last comment, and turned to his student. "Come and stand here," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor. As she walked over to him, he said, "we're starting with the basics." Once she was in the place he had indicated, he took her shoulders and rolled them backwards. "Shoulders back," he instructed, "try to elongate your spine." He demonstrated, and Tzipporah mimicked him, still a sour look on her face. "Feet shoulder width apart. Rib cage up," he said, demonstrating again. "Neck straight, head forward." She did all these things, feeling rather ridiculous, and still peeved at him for using food against her. "Now, take a breath from here," he said, putting a hand on her stomach. Tzipporah breathed in, now just bored with the whole thing. "Good." He said as he felt her diaphragm go out as she inhaled. He took his hand away and resumed mirroring her posture. "Look straight ahead," he told her, and she found her eyes fell directly in line with his adam's apple. He wasn't as tall as people had made him out to be. Then he sat down at the piano. "On Ah," he said, playing middle c and then a chord. "Keep your posture the same, and breathe from your diaphragm like you did before. Ready and sing."

Tzipporah followed all his instructions, rolling her eyes back in boredom as she opened her mouth and sang the note he had indicated. Immediately her eyes opened up in wide surprise as her voice reached her ears. She hit the note dead on. The Phantom straightened in surprise as well, and continued leading her up the scale. Granted, she sounded horrible, but at least she was hitting the notes. He did not tell her how high they were going, but when he stopped pushing her higher and began leading her back down the scale, he was feeling quite relieved and pleased with the lesson. She wasn't another Carlotta after all. Granted, she was no Christine, but at least she wasn't a Carlotta. They finished the scale and he stopped playing. Tzipporah stood there, waiting as he wrote something down on a scrap of parchment. "We're done here." He said.

Tzipporah let out a sigh and made a bee line to the table, immediately filling a plate with some of all of the food that was spread out on it. She sat down and took a bite, then noticed him getting up to leave. "Don't you eat?" She asked.

"I prefer to eat alone." He said flatly.

She blinked, slightly offended. Did she smell or something? His back was turned to her for the moment, so she checked under her arm. Sweet Mother of God she mouthed to herself in disgusted surprise. Then she remembered the show that night. "You coming back at dinner?"

The Phantom shook his head. "We will continue your lessons in the morning. You should have enough there for two good meals. I have something to do tonight."

So do I, Tzipporah thought excitedly. "Ok." She shrugged at him and continued eating. He turned and stepped into the Gondola, pushing off and gliding away quietly.

Tzipporah spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the tunnels, trying to find one that would lead her to somewhere in the house so that she could watch the show that night. At one point, she came upon a ladder that led up to a trap door. She climbed it, and opened the trap door, finding herself directly under the stage.

"Perfect." She whispered to herself, excitement welling up in her. The space under the stage was deep enough for Tzipporah to sit upright in. As long as there were no exits or entrances into this area, Tzipporah would be perfectly hidden. True, she couldn't see much, but she would be able to hear everything quite well. She heard someone step across the stage above her head, and decide to see if she could be heard on the stage, just in case the dust made her sneeze during the performance.

She coughed. Nobody made any indication of hearing her. She coughed again, obnoxiously. The ballerinas didn't even pause in their conversations. "Awesome," Tzipporah thought, "I can give a running commentary and no one would notice."

Satisfied, she slipped back down the ladder and closed the trap door after her. "Now," she said, again talking to herself, "back to the lair to find some soap to kill off the green fainter sisters here."

Twenty minutes later...

"stupidpieceof...dirtylittle..." Tzipporah was getting frustrated as she rummaged through the cabinets, unsuccessful in finding anything that would do for soap. "God," she whispered, exasperated, slamming things around in the cabinet, "doesn't he BATHE?"

A few more cabinets were ransacked before Tzipporah suddenly stood upright and began speaking loudly.

"Oh! And Question, Zippo: even if there was a bar of soap in this shitty little place here, WHERE would you find clean water to bathe in?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers, and looked pitifully at the lake. "Oh. No. God," she began praying, "Please don't make me bathe in catacomb water. I swear to you if you show me soap and a tub in here somewhere, as soon as I'm out of high school I'll become a nun."

A wind suddenly blew Tzipporah's hair back, and a voice resounded through the lair. "But you're protestant." It pointed out.

"Well, I'll convert. How's that?" Tzipporah responded quickly, not even batting an eye.

"That's very sweet, but that won't be necessary." The voice answered kindly, "the bathroom is just through that curtained door right there."

"Thank you." Tzipporah started towards said door.

"Sure thing, baby." The voice responded. Another gust of wind blew through the room.

Tzipporah suddenly stopped, gasped, gaped, and permitted her pupils to stretch to their full capacity. "Did I just speak to God?" She asked, astonished. And then she stood there, mid-action, with her jaw skimming the floor for a while. "Wow..." she swallowed, noticing her mouth had gone dry, "He sounds different than I had immagined."

And with that, Tzipporah went into the bathroom.