Chapter Sixteen: Nothing really special, I hate to admit, but I still hope you like it. It features a very private Mother and Daughter conversation and Erik with a shut down brain.

Ethalas Tuath'an: Ah! Questions galore! I'm not going to answer them all because that would give the whole story away. You might find out about Meg's reaction in this chapter and all I can say about Madame Giry's thought of Erik and Loralee together is that she won't mind too much. Keep reading and you'll get all your answers, and thanks again for reviewing!

Chapter Sixteen: The Coincidental C

"Meg Giry! I told you not to. . ."

Meg looked up at her mother through tear covered eyes and saw her mother looking at her angrily.

"So you found out?" she asked Meg, the words more of a statement. Meg nodded and hurried to her mother.

"Was Beth attacked? Is she okay? Where is she?"

"I. . . I cannot tell you, Meg."

"You can't tell me? But I have to know what happened to my friend!"

"Meg-"

"Please tell me."

Madame Giry looked at Meg sharply before saying, "Promise to keep this a deepest, darkest secret?"

"I promise," Meg said, no false hint in her voice.

Madame Giry got the key from the floor and locked the door. After gazing at the mirror for a few moments, she motioned Meg to sit on the bed.

"You know the new ballet mistress as Beth McLay, right?"

Meg nodded, confused.

"Well, her real name is Loralee Donoghue."

Meg's mouth went slack.

"You. . . You mean she's the girl who Hector Chaffee came to you about?"

"Yes."

"What is she doing in the Opera House, then? Hector seems like a very amiable man."

Madame Giry gave Meg a sharp look which made her quiet.

"Anyway, luckily by your innocent thinking, she got a place in the chorus. When you noted she'd get tired very easily, I went off to find out why, and I found her dancing in a secluded room as if she were a ballerina genius. When I got sick I realized I was getting too old for my job and gave it to her."

"What's this have to do with the attack, though?" Meg asked, clearly impatient. Madame Giry noticed.

"Patience, child, patience." Meg pouted but remained silent allowing her mother to go on.

"My job, my dear, is not just the ballet mistress. I'm also the Phantom's messenger." Meg gasped, her hand over her mouth and eyes wide with shock.

"But Christine! I mean, didn't Raoul kill him when he rescued Christine. I couldn't find him but only found his mask which means he's dead or-"

Her mother's hand silenced her.

"You could call him dead but only emotionally. Christine was his world and chance for a normal life, but she left him to wallow in his grief and pity till the end of time. The Phantom is what you could call a musical genius and marvels at the organ, but hadn't played it since Christine left till yesterday."

"What's this got to do with Beth- I mean Loralee's attack?"

"Well, Loralee had met the Phantom before I gave her the job it seems. She was lost one night and he decided to play a trick on her, but after she fainted from fright at the sight of him, he brought her back to her room, leaving his cape with her."

"So that's where she got the black cape. But why did such a fowl murderous creature give such a thing to her?"

"Meg!" Madame Giry snapped. "He is a murderer, no doubt, but he is a man like the rest of us. He just had a very harsh background and was molded by such experiences into the person he is today."

Meg looked at her feet in shame.

"Anyway, she became his messenger and was doing the job happily and peacefully until yesterday night. Loralee had a friend over, I guess, and left her for a while as she went back to her room. There she chatted to Erik-"

"Who's Erik?" Meg asked.

"Erik is the Phantom's name."

"He has a name?"

Madame Giry just looked at her daughter sharply.

"As I was saying, she was talking to Erik until her friend was heard nearby. The mirror is a secret passageway that Erik gets into her room through, so in his haste to get out, Loralee's dress got caught in the mirror. She told her friend to get me and I came back. Unfortunately I didn't know how to work the mirror, so I had to go through a different passageway to get Erik to free her. When the two of us came back up to get Loralee, she was being raped by Hector Chaffee."

"What?" Meg asked, shocked. Her face had gone pale. "And did. . . did Hector succeed?"

"No. Erik got her to safety before Hector could do any real damage."

Meg let go of a breath she had been holding.

"Where is she?"

"Erik has her and is taking care of her now. The worst she got was a few punches to the head and a large cut on her torso which has been seen to and should clean up nicely. A scar will be left, no doubt."

"Did Loralee get all her scars from Hector, then?" Meg asked timidly, as if she didn't want to know the answer.

"I'm afraid so," Madame Giry said, her voice also showing she wished it wasn't so.

"And Erik won't. . . you know. . . hurt her or murder her like he did to Piangi or Joseph?"

"No, he would never do such a thing to her."

Meg's eyes widened.

"Does he love her!"

"Oh, heavens no! Loralee is purely a friend as it's finest."

Meg's question wouldn't leave Madame Giry's head, though. Was it true that they were only friends? Erik had been happier than ever now that he had Loralee as a messenger and even Loralee was sharing more smiles with the world. Could Loralee be the next love in his life?

For now, she'd try to forget and instead take Meg out to the lunch she deserved dearly.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Loralee had slept till the early evening peacefully, dreams of music and friendship flooding her soul with a sense of love and happiness. It wasn't until she woke up that she remembered the other night with Hector. The memories made her shudder with fear, but then she remembered that she was in Erik's care and had nothing to fear. Hector would most likely never expect her to be with the Phantom of the Opera.

Feeling enough strength to get up, Loralee slowly swung her feet out of the bed, ignoring the pain from her torso cut. It took her a while to find the mechanism that opened the curtain, but she finally found the rope that raised it.

Supporting herself on a chair nearby, Loralee stood on shaky feet. As she did so, she felt a great gush of cold air smack into her scantily clad body.

Loralee tried to pull off the bed sheet but it was too heavy to lift seeing that she was still weak from the incident. Instead, she made her way over to a plush chair that sat at the far end of the room which had a large black velvet robe draped over it.

Erik's, no doubt, she thought as she pulled it on. It was certainly too large for her, but at least warmed her chilled body and made her more presentable.

Slowly, she went over to the door that lead out into Erik's main room next to the lake's edge. He was sitting at the organ still, hair mused up and robe now discarded, furiously scribbling out some melody on a ink splotched piece of staffed paper. He was so engulfed in his music that he didn't notice Loralee until she made her presence known by her hand on his shoulder.

Jumping up, Erik turned around to face her, eyes contorted in anger. They softened, though, when they rested upon Loralee's quivering form, and he dropped his quill, forgetting about his music momentarily.

"You shouldn't be up," he said, scooting over a little so Loralee would have room to sit on the bench. She sat down gladly, massaging her sore feet. Hector's attempted rape seemed to have drowned out more of her energy that she would have imagined possible.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?" Erik asked, almost humorously. His new friend only looked him in the eye showing she was dead serious.

"For everything. I do admit, you're not any lady's typical knight in shining armor. . ."

Erik tensed and spoke bitterly.

"Terribly sorry, mademoiselle, that I am not your perfect knight in shining armor."

"Oh, I don't care one bit. Other dimwitted people might, but I think it's a bit more thrilling having a Phantom save you from a mad man." Erik had no idea what to think of what she just said, and instead just stared at his unfinished song as Loralee continued. "But that's nothing to do with what I was saying. I just want to thank you for saving me, taking care of me. . . everything."

"Well, I must admit it's not been the most thrilling experience as having you as my so called damsel in distress." Loralee just quietly snorted with laughter. "And I'm also sorry to say that if you delay me from my music any longer, you shall have to hope that some other knight in shining armor will jump out of the shadows and save you from my wrath."

"Go ahead, I won't bother you," she said, gesturing to his work. He didn't need any reassurance, and quick as a blink was back to his music.

Loralee just watched him for what seemed like an hour. He would play a few chords and notes on the piano before hastily scribbling them down. Some times he'd get stuck for mere seconds and most disrespectful words would issue forth from his mouth. Erik had almost finished his piece, it seemed, and was working on the last chord when he suddenly stopped.

She looked at him strangely. Surely it wouldn't take him that long to get the very last note of the song. Usually it's the note that comes to you the easiest.

But all knowledge of what the last note should be was wiped out of Erik's mind and he sure didn't like it.

He threw down his quill, cursing, and was about to crumble up the paper when Loralee spoke.

"Try writing. . . try writing. . . uh. . ."

Erik's flaming eyes of annoyance and failure swerved dangerously into hers. She felt her mouth go dry. Loralee had no knowledge of the piano except a few classes when she was younger, and was only doing this, it seemed, to embarrass herself more. The truth was, Loralee had no idea what note should be the last one.

"Try writing what, my dear?" Erik asked, his voice icy and rather loud.

"Um. . . Try writing a C."

The note C seemed easy and simple enough, and if it were low, maybe it would compliment Erik's low chord next to the end.

"And make it low," she added hastily, waiting for Erik's action.

He simply stared at her and she stared back, frightened at what Erik's reaction was to be. It most likely would be a cold laugh or maybe even a slap to the face for being so utterly senseless and foolish to say such a horrid ending note.

Instead, Erik blinked, as if he just saw Loralee transform into a unicorn.

"Is. . . is that alright for the finish?" Loralee asked cautiously.

"A C?" Erik's eyes widdened. "A C! Damn me for not thinking of that ending!"

He played the measure and at the end, added her C, and too Loralee's slight horror, it sounded perfect, almost as if a genius had made it.

Erik laughed and wrote down the last note then swept Loralee up into a tight and friendly hug. Loralee only looked dumb founded and turned even more dumb founded when Erik hugged her.

"Why, Mademoiselle Donoghue, I didn't know you were a musician!"

He pulled back and looked at her, calming down and going back into his normal Erik mode. He noticed the shocked expression on Loralee's face and looked her in the eyes.

"What's wrong, Loralee?"

She blinked and then shook her head, getting out of her thoughts.

"Nothing, it's just. . . it's just that I absolutely made up that last note. I have no clue about how to play music."

"Really?" Erik asked, looking disappointed. She looked at him and smiled sadly.

"I'm afriad I don't know the difference between a violin and a viola.."

Erik just looked at her for a few seconds and then sighed, turning back to his now finished song.

"Still, you took part in making this piece, so. . ."

He signed the top upper right hand corner: "Written by Erik and Loralee Donoghue."

"Erik. . ?" she said, in the "are you nuts?" tone of voice.

"Well, it's true. You helped write it so therefore you have to take credit in the piece. Now, do you have any idea of what the name should be?"

"Play it and I'll think of one."

So off Erik went, playing his - more like their - piece. To Loralee's disbelieve, it was so beautiful and moving, she almost cried. She had no place as a writer for this piece. It was too wonderful to have her name on it. Erik's, though, fit perfectly, the four letters boasting with pure genius. The music and him seemed to fit like a hand in a glove.

She barely noticed when he finished with her coincidental C.

"So, any ideas?" Erik asked after a while. She could tell he also had the feeling of euphoria from the song.

"Yes. How about Twilight Magic?"

"Perfect," Erik said, and scratched the title down gracefully onto the top of the page before playing it again, but this time with even more feeling, making Loralee float away into the peaceful stage of sleep.