Disclaimer: No, stop it, stop it! No more bloody accusing me of plagiarizing! I fully admit that I don't own them.

By the way, I have no idea what I'm going to do for the underground lair scene with Phantom of the Opera and Music of the Night. Any suggestions?

Just let the poor soprano change!

A ballet dancer slipped away from the rehearsing group. It was, in fact, Meg. What the heck she was thinking, what with her mother being the ballet instructor and extremely strict, we will never know. She located Christine in her dressing room.

A beautiful baritone voice spoke. "And now for something completely different..." Christine looked up, startled, but Meg didn't hear it.

"Hey, Christine, you were amazing! So tell me, who's this 'great teacher' my mom referred to?"

Christine took a deep breath and started singing. "Father once spoke of an angel...I used to--"

Meg interrupted, annoyed. "No, no, stop it! No singing! Now tell me, who is he?"

"Okay, fine. He's a guy who hides somewhere in my room singing to me. Are you happy?"

Meg raised an eyebrow. "Christine, that's not a teacher. That's a stalker."

Christine shook her head fervently. "Meg, you don't understand. He's my angel!" With misty eyes, she sang again. "Angel of music, guide and guardian! Grant to me--"

"NO! STOP IT! STOP IT! NO MORE BLOODY SINGING!"

Christine whimpered.

Mme Giry stepped into the room at this point. "Meg Giry, get your rear end out here and dance with everyone else!"

"Okay, okay, sheesh," Meg muttered, shooting a glance at her friend. She searched for backup and found it in a certain pretty boy Vicomte who was searching for Christine. "Raoul! Will you do me a favor? Keep Christine company, make sure she doesn't get carried off by any musically talented stalkers, and don't let her sing!"

Raoul beamed, ready to take on such a responsible task. "Keep her company and let her sing while she's carried off by musically talented stalkers."

Meg stopped, wondering if it was safe to leave Christine in such blatantly stupid and entirely unsafe arms. "No, no. She's not to sing or leave the room with any musically talented stalkers."

"She has to sing solo and leave the room alone, not with stalkers."

"No, no, she can't sing OR leave the room, unless you're with her."

Raoul digested this. "Oh, if if if, uh, if I, uh, if if...uh..."

Meg shot an exasperated look at her mother. "Look, it's quite simple. You stay in the room with her, make sure she doesn't sing, and avoid any random disembodied voices of musically talented stalkers! All right?"

Raoul's eyes lit up. "Oh, I remember! Can she sing as long as I'm singing with her?"

Meg worked hard to keep from smacking her forehead. The boy was so dense. "No, no, no, no, you just keep her company and--"

"Oh, yeah, I'll keep her company, obviously, but if she had to sing, and I was with her--"

"No, just make sure she doesn't sing."

"And keep her company until any musically talented stalkers come--"

"No, no musical stalkers. Just wait for me."

"Keep her company until just you..."

"Come back."

"Come back." Raoul nodded as though he understood.

"All right?" Meg smiled at him as patiently as she possibly could.

Raoul nodded. "I'm to keep her company until you come back."

Meg had been about to turn away, but stopped at this. "And, uh...make sure she doesn't sing."

"Christine?"

"Yes, make sure she doesn't sing."

Raoul smiled cheerfully. "Oh, yes, of course. I thought you meant Mme Giry! You know, it seemed a bit daft to me if I were to keep her from singing when she's a dancing teacher anyway."

Meg gritted her teeth and stopped the comment of "You seem more than a bit daft to me!" from coming out of her mouth. "Is that clear?"

"Oh, yes, quite clear." Raoul entered Christine's dressing room while Meg rolled her eyes and hoped he didn't screw things up too badly. Mme Giry tugged her away to the rehearsal.

Raoul racked his brain for anything the two might have in common, but when he remembered that Christine was an opera singer and he was...not...he searched for memories of the past instead. "Christine Daae, where is your scarf?"

"Er...right here?" she said, pointing to a green scarf.

"No, no, the red one! You know, the one that I rescued from the ocean...got soaked to the skin..."

Christine rolled her eyes. "I wish you'd stop harping on about that. One day, you let a boy go rescue your scarf from the ocean, and he never shuts up about it again!"

Obviously, wrong topic. Raoul searched for another. "Well...remember those stories your father used to tell us? Little Lotte let her mind wander...little Lotte thought of when the Angel of Music would sing songs in her head and visit her in her bedroom. She thought of the last time he had come, when he'd roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and ripped off her--" He suddenly blinked in confusion. "Er, well, how about the story about a king...he sat in a little boat on one of those deep, still lakes that open like a bright eye in the midst of the Norwegian mountains, by a pier where the men dressed as ladies--" No, there was something amiss with that story too. He searched his miniscule brain for all memories of stories Daddy Daae had told them. "Discipline?...Naked?" He shook his head incredulously and recalled yet another story. He yelped as his mouth dropped open. "With a melon?" He'd never realized just how...inappropriate for children...these children's stories were.

He suddenly remembered the girl beside him. With a glance at her, he forgot all about Meg's instructions and invited her to dinner to take her mind off any interesting stories he had just reminded her of.

"No, Raoul...you see..." Christine hesitated; after the Angel of Music story he had just talked about, she was unwilling to tell him that the Angel of Music was singing songs in her head...among the other things that he had mentioned, which were roughly accurate. "Well, you see, Raoul, I...uh...my tutor is very strict and doesn't want me to get distracted from my vocal studies.

"Aw, come on, Christine! I won't keep you up too late!"

Christine shuddered. "No, Raoul--"

He didn't take the hint. "I'll give you a few minutes to change, and then we can go." He left. Christine was almost relieved, except that she knew he'd be coming back.

Raoul returned in a few minutes to see Christine's dress flung over the door. "Christine?" he said through the door. He was about to come in when he heard the male voice.

"Er, look, would you mind running along for ten minutes?" the beautiful baritone voice asked. "Make it half an hour."

Raoul was flummoxed. "Uh...no, no, right-ho, fine. Yes, I'll wait outside, shall I?" He moved a bit away from the door when suddenly, Piangi came by in search of some kind of part in this fanfic.

"Now, hold it there, Raoul. A man can run and run for year after year until he realizes that what he's running from...is himself." Piangi, for once, sounded sage, even though we all know that he's in love with Carlotta.

"Gosh!" Raoul said, sounding surprised.

"A man's got to do what a man's got to do, and there's no sense in running. Now you gotta turn, and you gotta fight, and you gotta hold your head up high."

"Yes!"

A few last words of encouragement from Piangi. "Now you go back in there, my son, and be a man!"

"Yes, I will. I will!" Raoul stood taller. "I've been pushed around long enough. This is it. This is your moment, Raoul de Chagny--this is it, Raoul de Chagny. At last you're a man!" He burst into the room. "All right, Christine, come out of there!"

The baritone voice came out muffled from behind the mirror. "Go away."

"Er, right, right." Raoul ran out of the room and into a random extra wearing a suit of armor and wielding a rubber chicken. The last thing he remembered was the rubber chicken bearing down onto his head.