I'd Rather Stay Bold and Lonely
by Dru
Summary: A self-proclaimed ghost and a tough and determined F.B.I. agent ; can they forge a relationship when they're from two different worlds, and both of them would rather be lonely than hurt again? Erik/OC
Authoress's Notes: Some of you X-Philes may recognize the title of the story and the chapter as coming from the Catatonia song Mulder and Scully. I just love this song and actually I was looking at the lyrics and decided that it was perfect for a post-Christine Erik, and my main character Jane Dough, I can just envision all the fun I'm going to have with that name, and this story was born from that song. Also I'm basing this story on the 2004 movie and Susan Kay's Phantom. Also I apologize if this chapter is a bit short, I promise you that others will be longer.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, the Paris Opera House or anything else featured in this story, including the Catatonia lyrics, with the exception of the plot and all of my original characters.
Chapter One: I find myself captivated
They had only been invited as a courtesy, F.B.I. agents were usually not present at arrests. Usually they moved on to another case before any arrests were even made by the local law enforcement and they were never at a trial. This case, however, differed from those others. The Miami-Dade police had requested that both agents be there when they arrested Daniel Shute, the notorious Florida drug lord. With him they would be bringing down a large chunk of Florida's drug underworld.
Jane Dough, one of the two F.B.I. agents at the arrest, had no doubts that someone just as bad would rise up to take the place vacated by Shute. There were literally hundreds of aspiring drug dealers who would like nothing better than to ascend into power as a drug lord. Perhaps they would even live in the same multi-million dollar mansion; such as Shute had done when he took the place of Zachariah Zigular whom had owned the mansion up to the point when he had been arrested. Jane hadn't worked on that case, but her partner, Elijah Gargilioni (and the other F.B.I. agent at the arrest), had gathered the evidence needed to convict him.
"This is going to be fun," Gargilioni said, highly optimistic. He had always loved to be part of the arrest, so much in fact that Jane often wondered why he had become a F.B.I. agent instead of a police officer.
"I can't wait to get this guy off of the streets," she replied, equally as optimistic of how the night was going to turn out. Soon they would have Shute behind bars awaiting his trial. Jane had every intention of returning to their cheap motel as soon as possible to catch up on much needed sleep before the early morning flight back to D.C.
"Everyone ready?" said Officer Browning, the man in charge of the team they had been working with. "He's coming out now," he pointed to the front door of the mansion where Daniel Shute was exiting his house accompanied by his usual two bodyguards.
"Here is where things get exciting," her partner whispered in her ear, excitedly.
"Just don't get cocky, Gargilioni," Jane warned, her hand resting on her holster; ready to draw her firearm at a moments notice if the situation called for it.
"Dough, you underestimate me. Since when have I gotten cocky?" he asked innocently as he watched the police emerge from their hiding places and go in to arrest Shute. "Time to go," he followed them, mostly to watch since the police had more than enough people to make the actual arrest.
"Since you learned to talk," she muttered under her breath, not caring whether or not her partner could hear her as she followed closely behind the older man.
"Damn it," Gargilioni said as he saw one of the body guards pull out a gun and start firing at one of the police officers in an attempt to cause chaos and allow for his boss, Shute, to escape arrest. The police were returning fire and had killed the one bodyguard, but Shute and the other were trying to make a run for it through the backyard.
After weeks of studying Shute and his mansion, Jane and Gargilioni knew that in the back there were docks where he had powerful motorboats with which he may be able to evade the Coast Guard if they tried to pursue him. And after knowing each other for years they knew that the other was going to chase Shute and the bodyguard and attempt to stop them from reaching their arsenal of boats.
"Don't you dare, Dough," Gargilioni ordered as he ran after the four police officers who were already trying to reach Shute, following him to the backyard along the right side of the house.
The same studies to the mansion that had caused Gargilioni and the police officers to deduce that they were heading to the docks had also given Jane the knowledge that the docks were off to the left side of the house and that if she went that way she had a better chance of catching them. Without giving any warning to the police officers who were too busy to have paid any attention to her even if she had said anything, she ran along the left side of the mansion.
She emerged just in time to see Shute and the bodyguard crossing right just a few yards in front of her as they made a mad dash to the docks.
"Freeze, F.B.I." she shouted, running in front of them and holding out her gun; effectively blocking their way to the docks. The docks themselves were alarmingly close to her, just a few steps more and she would be in the water.
"I don't think so, bitch" Shute said, panicked as he heard the police right behind him. He pulled out a hand gun and fired at Jane's head, earning him a bullet from Gargilioni. Jane stepped backwards as soon as she saw Shute drawing his gun, causing her to fall into the ocean; the bullet whizzing by harmlessly inches from her forehead.
It felt like floating, although she never felt like she had hit the water. Weightless, she could feel something, she wasn't sure what, flying past her and she experienced such an odd feeling. The only thing it could be compared to was the feeling that thread must feel as it was ripped out of a seam. Jane had no idea why she compared the feeling to that, since she knew perfectly well that thread was an inanimate object and could therefore feel nothing as it was ripped out of a seam. Still, she felt the strange sensation of being ripped from something; and it was rather painful, but she couldn't cry out or move. She was just floating there. It was the most confused she had ever been in her life.
When she finally was able to move she noticed that she was lying on a extremely hard surface, which she couldn't understand because she was very certain that she had fallen into water. Seeing a the completely still surface of the water right next to her quelled her confusion slightly, although it flared it up again when she realized that she was indoors. There were candles lining the walls and they all looked like they were frozen, just as the lake was. It appeared as if she was in a picture, with everything suspended in motion. The water appeared to be glass carved to appear as water, like someone had taken great pains to imitate the ripples and waves. Now Jane was feeling extremely apprehensive and had no clue how she had arrived at this strange place.
She wasn't going to let this shake her up though, she decided as she got to her feet; not the slightest bit wet. She noticed a small boat of some type off down the submerged corridor that lay right in front of her. Like the water and candles, it seemed to be frozen in time; with the figure in it paused in mid row using some type of long sticks similar to the types they used on gondolas in Venice. Jane made up her mind to go out to that boat, to see if the figure was wax or maybe just someone pretending to be motionless. Slowly she walked over to the edge, towards the place where the carved stone floor met the glass water. Softly she tapped the 'water' with the tip of her boot and, after being satisfied that it was indeed solid and able to support her weight, she stepped out onto its surface and began to walk carefully across to the boat; her gun still in her hand.
The closer she got to the boat she more she began to appreciate her surroundings, the walls and ceilings were decorated with ornate carvings and gold paint. It seemed so old fashioned, so foreign to Jane. She tried to keep her mind off of the biggest questions, 'Where am I?', 'Why am I here?' and 'How did I get here?', and just focused on getting to the boat; afraid that if she allowed her mind to linger on the questions she'd panic and would be unable to get back to Miami.
"Who are you?" she asked out loud to the man rowing the boat as she approached nearer to it, fascinated by the enigmatic man; half of his face was covered by a mask. He certainly wasn't faking being frozen, she doubted that he was even alive. There was no rise and fall of his chest and when she held her hand in front of his nose she felt no air passing over her fingers. He wasn't breathing, or if he was he was so good at hiding it that Jane couldn't tell. She got closer, stepping into the boat.
Jane reached out to touch his cheek, to see if he was made of wax. Suddenly he jumped to life, trying to continue rowing but finding that his oar wouldn't move through the glass-like water. The half of his face that she could see was contorted with confusion, especially after seeing her. She was so surprised that she fell backwards, in a style eerily reminiscent of her fall from the docks, and tried to use her hands to break her fall against the glassy water. Surprisingly she felt the water give way and become water again as she touched it, and as soon as she was completely submerged she felt the familiar ripping sensation that she had felt before.
She felt someone's lips on her mouth once she felt solid ground beneath her back; this time it was a soft cushion of grass. Opening her eyes she could see a crowd of police officers standing above her, cheering. Once again she was confused. What had happened? What happened to the masked man? Why were they cheering? Did they get Shute?
"You had us scared there for a moment, Dough," her gruff partner said, grinning madly as he sat her up. "Don't worry I've called an ambulance for you,"
"What happened?" she asked, groggily; feeling like she had a bad hangover. "Shute?"
"You cut off the bastard," Gargilioni explained. "He shot at you, missed, and then I shot him. He died, you fell into the ocean, nearly drowned, and then yours truly saved you,"
"Thanks, Gargilioni," Jane managed a weak smile, still feeling pretty bad.
"You did good, kiddo," he said, patting her on the back. "If it wasn't for you he would have gotten away, but-"
"I must never, ever do anything as stupid again," she finished for him, having given him the same speech every time he had nearly gotten killed. "Usually it's me saying that to you. And don't call me kiddo, I'm 32"
"Well, I'm 35, so I can call you kiddo if I want to," he paused as he heard the loud noise of the ambulance coming into the backyard. "You're going to be okay Dough, perfectly fine,"
"I've been meaning to ask you something," Gargilioni said as the approached the salmon colored condominium a month after Jane had checked out of the hospital; complaining that they spelled her name wrong (they had listed her as a Jane Doe).
"Why drug lords would hide their stash in a pink condo surrounded by old people?" Jane replied playfully, drawing her handgun as they followed the police up to the front door.
"No, about the night you died," he added.
"I was only dead for a little bit," she protested, still trying to make a joke out of it even though it plagued her nightmares along with the masked man.
"Still, did you have a near death experience?" he asked, in front of them the police bashed down the front door. "See a bright white light? Anything?"
"What are you? Mulder?" she replied as the entered the condo, the police making sure that each room was devoid of people who might want to cause trouble.
"Only if you're Scully," he responded. "Come to think of it, you do have the red hair. Although yours is a darker shade and much longer,"
"Will you shut up about my hair? We've got a job to do," Jane insisted, going up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
"And you're not much taller than her either," her partner joked, entering a hall closet and beginning to search it for drugs.
In the master bedroom, Jane just rolled her eyes at his comment. It was just like Gargilioni to tease her about her height, she was, unfortunately, shorter than most women; barely standing 5' 4' which made her look like a dwarf next to her six foot plus partner. After dwelling on how mean her partner could be, she started to search for drugs. They had a warrant based on the fact that Shute had sold this property to a known drug dealer and they had found over a million dollars worth of cocaine at his mansion home. It was reasonable to assume that the dealer had some of his stash here.
The room itself was rather large, with a queen size bed and sliding glass doors that opened to a railing less balcony, which was very unsafe, that hung over a pool like a gigantic diving board. The only reason that Gargilioni and her were here was because the police were short on men and could use a few extra hands to search the premises faster.
"Find anything?" asked Gargilioni as he walked by the open door with a bag of cocaine. "I did?" he held up the bag like a trophy.
"Not yet, I've only begun to search," she explained. He just shrugged and walked off, leaving her alone.
After searching through the dresser and under the bed, she walked over to the closet and threw the door open. As soon as she had done so, a man leaped out of the closet and shoved her aside; dashing through the glass door, causing it to shatter. Then the man jumped off of the balcony into the swimming pool and attempted to swim to the other side and make it to safety. Without giving it a second thought Jane ran out through the broken door, managing to remain unharmed except for gash in her right arm caused by a piece of glass, and mentally judged the distance from the balcony to the edge of the pool that the man was now trying to reach.
She figured that she could jump that so she did. However, she misjudged the distance and ended up in the swimming pool and in a flash of that confusing ripping feeling that she had nearly forgotten she was back on that hard stone surface she had first encountered a little over a month ago.
"Why me?" she grumbled as she found herself in that strange world of the masked man and of frozen water and flame that she had dismissed as an illusion.
To be continued...