Okay, review replies, here we go!

MetalMyersJackson: You will soon find out

Asingledarkcrimsonrose: No Erik is not happy, he's quite distraught actually

Masked Grace: Yeah! Go masks! Um, anyway, love it, Erik is so a drama queen! Wait till you read what comes up later (much later, I've only posted up to page 18ish out of 41!)

Blaze-Loganlover: Sorry, missed you last time, I was tired, forgive me. Kick back and enjoy!

Pertie: I am so glad you didn't ignore me, I have talent! See? See?... okay, maybe not...

Lady Assasin Moonbeam: Nothing to it but for several late nights slaving away under my muse's dark ravings

Anger forgotten, Erik leapt out of the boat and ran to the wreck that had been his pride. The organ lay in smashed ruins, keys broken and one edge charred where some stupid mobster had tried to set fire to the carved edgings. Adriana stared until she realised that the boat was drifting and she hurriedly got out, pulling the gondola closer to the bank and tying a knot around the mooring ring embedded in the rock. With a long legged leap, she splashed through the shallows to Erik, who stood in horror at the remains of human thick headedness.

"God, Erik, I'm so sorry." She whispered, reaching out one hand to touch his shoulder gently. Erik was frozen, clutching the sides of his ruined instrument, his knuckles were turning white, suddenly he spun away from her and shouted upwards to the stage above them.

"THOSE BASTARDS!" he burst out, kicking at the broken piano stool. The heavy wood bounced over to a black marble throne, carved with musical notes, tilted onto it's side. Erik stared at it for a moment in horror. "No…" he gasped, ignoring Adriana to run to the broken seat. With fervent fingers he pressed valiantly on a combination of notes and the front fell open, clattering dully onto the cold stone floor. Erik breathed a sigh of relief, as he pulled out pages of music. "So they didn't find it," Adriana heard him breathe. She watched him for a moment, then looked past him to the dark hollow of a passage. Curious, she stepped away from the organ to peer through the darkness, she couldn't see a thing so she picked up a candle which had been kicked into a corner and lit it from the one Erik had left standing on the organ. She tried first the left and then the right doors both refused to move. The hangings on the wall were nothing but burnt tatters, but the rest of the passage looked sound.

"Erik?" she called softly, "I don't think they got through here," Erik was at her side instantly.

"Are you sure?" he demanded, she shrugged,

"I don't think so, anyway, a few torched hangings is all, but the doors are locked."

"Ah, wait here a moment" Erik returned to his throne and bent to retrieve a brown leather pouch, withdrawing from it, two small keys. He returned and handed her a brass one, emblazoned with a gold rose. "Try that door," he indicated the one on the right, as he turned and opened the door on the left. Adriana admired the workmanship on the key for a moment, then slipped the key into the lock, it took a few curses and a couple of kicks, but she managed to get the door opened and stepped into what every phangirl dreams of…the Louis-Philippe Room.

Burnt out candles stood on dusty candelabras, and rich velvet blankets were still draped on the ornate swan bed, she quickly lit the candles with her own and looked around the room properly. Baskets of dead roses lay everywhere, and another door led to a private bathroom, complete with a huge Turkish bath. Adriana returned to the swan bed and ran a hand along the graceful neck, smiling, she couldn't help it, she started humming Music of the Night.

"How is it?" Erik asked anxiously from the doorway, she stopped humming hurriedly and flashed him a grin.

"Dusty, but fine," she answered, Erik let a small smile flicker on his lips before he hurriedly suppressed it. Adriana was amazed at the transformation, with one twitch of his lips, Erik went from sexy brooding Phantom, to sexy intrigued gorgeous Phantom! "Good," he replied, "If you wish, this room will be yours." Adriana grinned with delight,

"I'm living every crazed phangirls deepest darkest phantasy," she murmured to herself.

"What was that?" Erik asked, she blushed to match her jacket,

"You don't want to know." She said.

"Of course," Erik turned to go, but Adriana stopped him.

"Um…Erik?"

"Yes?"

Adriana's blush deepened and she looked at the floor, "I was really a little bitch earlier, I owe you an apology, I'm sorry."

Erik paused at the doorway, one hand leaning on the frame. (God he looks sexy with his shirt half opened) Adriana thought, risking a glance upwards, (Damn, whoever thought up the design for the ruffled white shirt, they deserve a medal). Erik smiled at her for the second time, "Apology accepted."

Adriana smiled at him in relief, "Thankyou, hows the other room?"

Erik shrugged, "Untouched," he told her, turning away with a dark swirl of his cloak, Adriana followed him across the hall, "What's in there?"

"My room," he indicated with a nod of his head, "Thankfully, the mob was unable to enter, and one organ, at least, remains undamaged." He opened the door and casually whipped his black cloak off his shoulders and tossed his fedora onto a hook behind the door. Adriana peeked around him to see a smaller, less ornate, but unmangled version of Erik's other organ, her eyes travelled to the rich dark coffin laying flat on a black marble pedestal.

"Is there any particular reason you sleep in a coffin Erik?" she asked curiously, Erik shrugged,

"To keep up the appearance of being dead, I suppose," he looked down at her, "Or perhaps to make sure that no "crazed phangirl" as you so aptly put it, gets any of the wrong ideas." Adriana flashed him a dark grin,

"I was hoping you hadn't heard that." She laughed, "Won't work on anyone in the D.B.C.A. though,"

"The what?" Erik sounded amused, closing the door, now it was Adriana's turn to shrug, "The Dramatic Black Cloak Addicts"

"Which are who, might I ask?"

"Well, pretty much anyone who likes you, Dracula, Snape, plus a few assorted others, all because you have a sexy black cape to swirl around. And if you're a member of the sub division of "Cloaks and Coats," we add in Spike from Buffy and Ja- uh, Captain Jack Sparrow as well."

"Is there any real purpose in this?"

"No, not really, but it's fun." She said, tugging a thread loose from her sleeve. Erik raised an eyebrow.

"I see…do you actually own a cloak as well?"

"I did…kind of, we borrowed it from the local theatre company and I managed to keep it for nearly a year before mum returned it on me."

"Why did she do that?"

"Don't know," she sighed, "they didn't use it. I was not best impressed when I found out."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, didn't speak to her for about a week. She got so sick of me moping she told me to just make one and get over it."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Make one?"

"No,"

"Why not? Can't you sew?"

"I can, as a matter of fact. But do you have any idea how much that amount of fabric costs? I just stayed with the company and used it whenever I could get into the costume room."

"So you were on stage?"

"Yahun, for about 5 no, 6 years in a row."

"6 years? How many performances did you do?"

"Yup, and 6. I was an orphan in 'Annie', an apostle and a leper in 'Jesus Christ Superstar', an angel in 'Hi my name's Seraphina' an angel again in 'Windsong'" she paused, frowning "I kept getting the feeling someone wanted me dead at that point, I kept getting all the ghosts parts. Then I had to play a boy in 'They're right on your back' and I was Marty in 'Grease.' Which was a school performance."

"And these are all operas?"

"Musicals and one act plays."

"Why no operas?"

"Small town Erik, we had enough trouble trying to find enough men for anything, let alone decent singers, and besides, all the decent parts are written for sopranos."

"They are not!"

"Name one decent alto lead"

"Well…" Erik trailed off, trying to think.

"Ha! Told you so!" Adriana smirked at him, folding her arms in that self satisfied way. Erik paused to finally look her up and down. The black pants were tucked into the tops of her calf length boots, and hints of plum ribbons peeked along the sides of the black corset, made of lace and satin. The gold embroidered red jacket made her look like a little fire vixen. His eyes travelled slowly over her well rounded frame (This girl is not a Sue! Please! I know she sounds it, but she's not!). His gaze returned to her grey eyes, to find she was looking him over too, rather appreciatively, he thought, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

"You're staring," he noted dryly,

"So were you,"' she retorted evenly, resting her eyes for a moment on the bare patch of chest visible through his open shirt, before meeting his eyes. "And I'm admiring, there's a difference."