I'm back! oh wait...

Disclaimer: don't own it.

Alrighty now on to business. First, I apologize profusely for not having updated for a month and a half! I could make excuses about school and writers block like asmart author would, because everyone would understand and sympathize. But all I can say is for a bout 3 weeks my notebook sat in my drawer with all this written in it, I just forgot to take it out and type it. I was also exceptionally lazy and uninspired for the rest of that time, so my writing is absolutely terrible this time. Pathetic, really. So I appologize for incredibly awful chapter, but I also thought that if I didn't put something up I just might get punjabbed. So, voila, here is my pitiful composition.

Oh yeah I forgot, review replies...oops.

Oh side note, have you ever noticed how bad people are at following directions? I said don't read that last chapter till Monday, and before I left on Sunday I must have had 5 reviews for chapter 8! oy you people!

Erikphan24601 poof! You were my 50th review so you get cookies or chocolate pudding or whatever I promised the fiftieth reviewer in the last chapter, I forget. Thanks!

Mouette: sob even Mouette doesn't listen to me anymore...sniff But yes Raoul is cheating with his engagement ring on, but oh well. Maybe he'll get disowned by his family because he has commitment issues. Wait, no, then Meg couldn't be a proper lady. Never mind.

Unseengenius: I have no clue what the heck you said. I take Spanish, not french, and all I could make out was something about history. Mind explaining?

PhantomLover05: You don't know who Gerik is! Horror! Gerry Butler playing Erik.

Celestial Secrets: Pleeeeeeeeeease do not throw a porkchop at me! I am terribly sorry about this! And I made most of that up out of my head, having never read Kay. I just threw a few details I have randomly picked up into a cohesive order. And if you figure out how to fly, you've got to teach me too. Please? When I start a random fic I promise you can have a cameo.

Draegonfire: Thank you, but yet again I have practically no background on the subject. And I'm sorry I forgot to run this chapter by you first! GAH! Bad Authoress! smacks self

GeekyAnnie: Oy, sheesh, don't get snippy with me lol! Here ya go...

Fluff and Nonsense

"Monsieur Tallis?" Meg walked into the parlor rather timidly; the Persian had always been a great source of fright for the ballet rats, almost as much as the Opera Ghost. But seeing him sitting neatly in a chair with a glass of fine wine was slightly shocking, for his turban didn't seem to quite fit in with the modestly refined surroundings. "Would it disturb you greatly if I asked you a question?"

Kahveh huffed. "Seeing as that in itself was a question and I have not flown to pieces, I would suspect that the answer would be no. But who's to say, really? It all depends on the question. You could ask me about the weather, and that would not be a distressing situation. Or you could ask me about other things, for example, what I did before I came here. That would be quite uncomfortable, however, so I would ask you to refrain from such a--."

"Certainly, monsieur, I will not ask such a thing. I only wish to know what happened to my dear friend, Christine." Meg had begun her inquiry with a logical fashion in mind, but as she began to think of the possibilities, the young ballerina became more anxious about what exactly happened to her foster sister. "Why is Raoul unconscious, and in such a state? Is Christine alright, has she escaped, or has that horrid corpse taken her with him forever? Will I see her again? What happened? Where is--?"

"ENOUGH, CHILD!" That many questions were far beyond Kahveh's capacity for comprehension, and many were of such sensitive nature that he was rather flustered by the time he cut her off. "Christine is safe, you will see her again most likely, and le Vicomte de Chagny is in such a state because he attacked the Phantom, but he will live. Does that calm that insatiable curiosity of yours sufficiently that you could leave me alone for a bit, mademoiselle?" He raised a rather hairy eyebrow at Meg.

Frightened by the outburst, although not very sure why, Meg hastily retreated towards the doorway. "You have my apologies, monsieur, I did not mean to anger you so, my mother simply ordered me to come question you about what had happened, she said you could use disturbance. I'm simply following orders." So saying, she trotted off back toward the room where her mother was tending Raoul's body.

What a terribly timid creature she is, Kahveh wondered, and yet she is so blunt and forthright in her speech. Such contradictions, its very curious. Deciding analyzing Meg Giry's personality would be too much for so late at night, the Persian pushed it out of his mind and returned to his drink, hoping all was going well five cellars down.

XXXXX

Some time later Christine awakened abruptly from the dream she was having. It had been terrible; Raoul had threatened to kill her if she didn't marry him, and Erik had stood by, incapacitated by his injury and unable to help her. Raoul was charging toward her with his sword, ready to run her through, when she was jostled awake by the Phantom.

She turned toward Erik, expecting to see him awake. Instead she saw the face of a man tortured by his past, even in his sleep. Hurrying from the room, Christine went to fetch a cool cloth for his forehead, fearing that the nightmares were brought on by fever.

Returning, she knelt beside the swan bed in the Louis-Philippe room and placed the cloth on Erik's face gently. "Please, Lord, be merciful, let him be healed," she prayed fervently. Christine leaned over Erik to pull the covers back over him, and noticed that she still wore the ruined wedding gown. I should probably change out of this. She walked with the grace of an angel toward the grand armoire.

The wardrobe was ornate; beautifully carved of mahogany to match the bed. On the doors were brass pulls, elaborately molded with crystal accents. Christine grasped them almost reverently, afraid to touch them lest she mar their perfection. Slowly she opened the heavy doors, revealing an array of gowns more beautiful than any empress could have owned. Amethyst, coral, sapphire, crimson, sage, gold, silver, and every other lovely color in creation was displayed among the garments in that wardrobe. She had never seen such gorgeous possessions in her life! Even in the costume room of the Opera, where there were treasures enough to delight every woman's heart, the glamour found there was nothing compared to what Christine now beheld. There were outfits for all occasions: ball and dinner gowns, morning dresses and capes, sleepwear—why even her lingerie was provided for! Making a mental note to thank Erik profusely for this when he awoke later, Christine pulled a silky beige nightgown gently out of the mass, and immediately found it was accompanied by an ivory dressing gown and the softest suede slippers in Paris. Hastily she pulled the wedding dress off, leaving it in a lump by her feet, too eager to feel the fine material of the nightgown against her skin to care about it. As she reached to undo her corset, she halted and spun around, hearing a yell from across the room.

"Christine!" she heard Erik cry out in anguish. She rushed over to him in her chemise and corset. "Erik?" she inquired.

"No!" He tossed and turned, restless from his emotion. "Christine!"

The soprano reached for his hands, which were flailing about, and held them tightly over her heart. "Hush Erik, I'm here, be still." Immediately she felt him relax, his face became less contorted, he stopped moving so wildly, and her name passed from his lips once more, this time as a peaceful sigh. "Christine…"

"Yes, my love, its alright," she said before slipping her hands from his grasp and going back to her toilette. After fighting with her corset for nearly a quarter of an hour, turning this way and that trying to reach the ties and wriggling to get out of it, Christine finally slid the nightgown over her head, pleasantly surprised to find it lined with flannel to take off the chill. Then she walked over to the bed and, taking off the slippers and dressing gown, made herself comfortable at Erik's side. No more than a minute later, she was asleep, creating a picture of fairy tales: the demon of music with his angel of song, together in perfect harmony.

XXXXX

The managers were most distraught. They had lost their star, the Diva Carlotta, and her replacement all in an hour; and if rumor was true La Sorelli was signing her resignation at that moment, taking her part in the exodus of the Opera Populaire.

"Whatever are we to do, Richard? We have no cast!" Moncharmin was on the verge of an aneurysm with all this excitement.

"But think of the publicity, my friend!" exclaimed the business-minded Richard. "Can't you just see the headlines? 'Opera House Scandal' 'Phantom Kidnaps New Margarita.' Why, the press will be all over this; we will be sold out!"

"We cannot be sold out if we have no opera to sell! And we cannot have a show if we haven't any cast!"

"Oh, fie! Just bring in one of the ballet rats to be the Prima Ballerina, little Giry or whatever her name might be, she shows promise. As for the new Diva, why, we found one in the chorus before! Have tryouts for the lead soprano."

"But—but—oh very well!" Moncharmin acquiesced. "But I refuse to take responsibility if our Ghost finds these replacements inadequate!"

Under normal circumstances, I would request a bunch of reviews, but I hardly expect anything from this piece of crap. Death threats expected, criticism welcome, and if anybody has any idea what the heck I should do next, feel free to write me suggestions, because I'm all out.