Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.

Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Such a deceiving title. It amuses me though.

Okay, so away from that fun little sex scene… you guys are killing me… I have work! I can't update all the time… it makes me sad, but you'll just have to wait in anticipation some more. Especially after this week, I'm going to be really busy. You'll have to wait until the weekends unless I decide to do what I did this week, forget all other work, and write fanfiction. Don't know if I can.

Whatever though, I'll try to keep up with your reviews… thanks for reviewing rather consistently, I appreciate it. I hope you guys didn't see the ending of the last chapter coming. Raoul's subconscious seems to be very mean to him, but let's go on with the drama.

o.o.o.o

Pass Time: Organ Transplant o-

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last Time: Raoul had a dream. (yeah, putting it like that makes it seem like nothing happened at all)

o.o.o.o

-.-

Erik awoke feeling more refreshed than he had felt in a long while. He had been having a wonderful dream (lol, not the same one Raoul had though, hmmm, not the exact same one at least) that had involved a certain blonde. Today would be a busy day. He had a goal once again. He had a reason to live, and he would be busy trying to get his plan in place.

Raoul wouldn't have a clue as to what hit him.

Picking up the note he had written to the managers, he left his lair to deliver it. Everyone would be out practicing for the opera once more, and the managers often found themselves drawn to the chorus girls' rehearsals so they would be out of the office. On the other hand though, Erik believed he could be in the same room and still not rouse their suspicion so consumed with themselves they were. It was best to be safe though. He would not want the wrong people to know his presence.

Upon leaving the office without incident, Erik saw the perfect gift he would give Christine. Sneaking into her new room, he placed it neatly on the nightstand by her bed. He was about to wrap a black ribbon around it, but decided she did not need any unnecessary clues to his existence. Grinning to himself, he was certain she would love it.

He left at peace with himself. It was only the beginning. He had a feeling today and the days that followed would be a good days.

Having nothing else to do after leaving his gift, he wandered the halls observing all those that lived within the opera house's walls, as was his daily routine before it had caught flame. He could not do anything without word from the managers. He needed their money and of course their silence before he could continue.

He would also have to talk to Madame Giry. Erik knew he couldn't leave the woman out of his life completely. She was the reason that he was where he was today. He would have to wait until practice was completed because she hated to be interrupted.

o.o.o.o

Christine sat watching Meg and the other chorus girls practice one scene over and over. She was done for the day and was waiting for Meg. She really had no one else to go to after rehearsals. According to Madame Giry's orders, she should be back in her room, but she just didn't want to be alone. Christine was afraid. It was best to be around people when she had the feeling that the phantom was still wandering the opera house.

She had no proof, but she had a bad feeling.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the managers walked on stage looking quite nervous. Firmin cleared his throat to obtain everyone's attention. His voice was a little shaky as he spoke, "Attention please." He really didn't have to say that since a hush had fallen upon everyone on the stage. It was as if everyone knew what he was to say.

"As you all know, the phantom is probably still alive. That accident yesterday with the sandbag surely must have been him. Did anyone see it happen?" Firmin continued.

The actors and dancers all shook their heads. Christine sighed. She thought it had been a note. Christine was starting to feel silly about the whole phantom subject, since she knew she had been the one to drop the sandbag. The phantom definitely would have shown himself yesterday and had not. She calmed at the thought. The phantom of the opera was really dead.

Erik watched from the shadows of Box 5. It would seem the managers had not read his note yet. He smirked imagining their reaction to the note considering they had just revealed he was alive. They did not have any solid proof, and he was certain the others would have come to the same conclusion either way. As long as Andre and Firmin did not confirm nor deny his existence any further, Erik would leave them be.

Firmin asked again, "Are you sure no one saw what happened? Not a ghost, not a shadow?"

Everyone shook their heads no. None had even seen a shadow moving across the catwalks like they usually did when something occurred. Christine was embarrassed. She could calm everyone else down if she told them that she had been the one to drop the sandbag, but Madame Giry would have her head. She decided it was best if not everyone else knew.

Erik eyed Christine warily. She was leaning against the wall, looking rather… well, if he thought about it, she looked rather guilty. He put two and two together and still couldn't believe it. Christine had dropped that sandbag. She had been rather drunk, if her breath had been any indication of that. Such irony amused him. It would work to his advantage if Christine was the only one who did not believe that he was back.

Firmin commented too loudly to himself, "It seems the opera ghost has not been killed... or, he has and is now really a ghost." He heard the frightened gasped and looked around self-consciously. He hadn't meant to worry the others, but it seemed that a ghost haunting them was more of a possibility than he had once believed. The mob had scoured the cellars and Raoul was certain that the man was dead. The sandbag could only mean he came back from the dead. The opera ghost had been merely a man before but now if the opera ghost was now a ghost then life would be extremely harder.

Erik wondered at their stupidity. They believed superstitions entirely too much.

"We will have to work harder and be certain we do stay on his good side," Andre said trying to mollify the girls who had become uneasy at the thought of a real ghost, "Just be certain you do not walk alone. Always be in groups just in case."

"I say," Firmin spoke, "if we do very well in our performances and be on our best behavior, I think we could meet his standards and he will leave us be."

Erik laughed to himself. That was quite the optimistic thing for Firmin to say. It was almost as though he had read the note that waited for them in their office. Erik thought he was being rather generous in the offer.

One of the chorus girls shouted, "We will never meet his standards!"

Erik rolled his eyes. Chorus girls were so dramatic. He was getting bored. He needed to talk with Madame Giry.

"He had not interfered in our business until last night. We can hope that he will remain placated for longer," Andre stated, then turned around to leave with Firmin. They had business to complete in their office.

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. They would walk in groups, not wanting to be caught alone with an opera ghost who may well be a real ghost. They would do their best in the operas, which Erik considered they should already be doing, so that he would not need to interfere. Everyone hoped that the opera ghost would not appear to them.

Seeing that the managers were done speaking, the group began to disband. Erik watched as Madame Giry waited on the stage expectantly. She would be waiting for him or for some sign of him, and he would be sure not to disappoint.

o.o.o.o

Christine couldn't believe it. She had watched everyone become so worked up over the news that the phantom might still be alive. She hoped that she had not overreacted like that before. It was just a sandbag falling. If they thought about it rationally, they would realize that there was no phantom of the opera. Even if she had not accidentally dropped that sandbag, any other factor could have made it fall. She smiled to herself.

She had left the cellars of the opera house alone, but she had hoped Raoul had gone back to finish the job. Of course, he did not tell her if he did or did not at the time after he returned home, and it would seem he had. He had looked rather traumatized, maybe he was not used to killing anyone or maybe he saw his dead body. Raoul deserved to be traumatized though, Christine thought, considering that she believed he had abandoned her.

The opera ghost was gone and she was feeling more safe and at home in the opera house than ever before. She looked around paranoid that anyone would see her so happy after hearing such horrible news. Seeing nothing moving in the shadows did not ease her mind. People in the opera house were always looking for the tiniest bit of gossip and news to spread around. She would have to rejoice elsewhere. Now that the phantom was dead, she felt liberated. She realized after leaving that lair that she could not love a twisted man like the phantom, especially when he had nothing to offer her since he had gone insane.

She reviewed all the events that she had gone through because of that man, that monster. The phantom had even scared away her chance at a good match. He had scared Raoul away. Oh, how she wished she knew what transpired after she left the lair. She would have liked to see the phantom skewered after ruining everything.

Snapping her out of her reverie, Meg laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What would you like to do now, Christine?" Meg asked sparing a glance at her mother who in turn gave her a stern look, "I don't think mother would want us to do anything outside the opera house."

Christine sighed. It seemed to her that she was being trapped within the building that had once given her so much life. "Can we not just get some fresh air?"

Meg once again looked towards her mother for confirmation. She knew that Madame Giry was paying close attention to Christine after the little alcohol incident and especially now that the Phantom was back. Madame Giry gave Christine a scrutinizing look over, then nodded her head.

Erik waited until everyone including Meg and Christine was out of sight. Dropping lightly from the hanging walkways, he waited for Madame Giry to acknowledge him. He knew she heard him; she had a certain sense when it came to him.

"Erik," she whispered, looking around.

Erik simply stepped slightly out of the shadows of the curtains.

She made no move towards him, wary of his reaction to her. He could tell she was checking to make sure he was okay. It had been a while since they had last seen each other, and she had been the one who had brought Raoul to him.

Madame Giry of course thought the fact that she had led the boy to him would have been a bad thing to do. It was ironic that it had probably turned out to be the very thing that Erik considered the best thing to have happened.

"You have been well," Erik stated. He hated small talk. Mme. Giry did look well though, and he was glad for it. He appreciated her past efforts to protect him and she was still one of the only people he trusted.

"I have," she answered. As usual, she spoke frankly, "Are you angry with me?"

Erik played dumb, "Whatever for, Madame?"

She glared at him. He was playing with her and she did not appreciate it. "For showing the Vicomte the way to your home."

"It is of no import now," Erik shrugged if off. It would do him no good if she knew he was infatuated with the boy.

"Did you drop that sandbag?" Madame Giry asked doubtfully. She did not think it was his style.

Erik grinned, "No, Madame. It was actually not me. I would appreciate if you do not tell anyone of my presence. I have informed the managers of the same request. They would have read the note by now. I presume. It was actually Mademoiselle Daae who dropped it. She had been inebriated yesterday."

Erik could barely suppress the humor he felt when he saw Madame Giry become even more angered at Christine. It was too much fun.

o.o.o.o

"Where would you like to go? The roof?" Meg suggested.

The proposal sent shivers down Christine's spine. No, definitely not the roof. Too many memories were attached to that place. She didn't want to be up there considering there was only one entrance and exit besides a fatal drop from the rooftop. There may be no phantom but she was not going to place herself in such a vulnerable position. "How about the back instead?"

"Wow," Meg commented after a while, as they headed towards the back doors of the opera house. The admirers were once again clamoring and crowding the front doors for their prima donnas, so the back was the best option, "I don't think I've ever seen mama so strict before, Christine."

"I'm so glad I was the one to bring out the best of her," she replied sarcastically. Finally outside, Christine took a deep breath. She could feel a calm descend upon her. She had been on edge for the past couple of weeks because of the opera house, and being outside it, even if only a couple of steps was a bit of a relief. She felt that she could finally relax and live the rest of her life as a prima donna.

However, they were not alone. A wagon with a tarp covering something in the back actually pulled up at the back just when Meg and Christine were settling themselves and enjoying the calm.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," the driver called, "I'm looking for a Madame Giry."

"Why, Monsieur?" Meg asked looking towards the back of the wagon.

"I'm delivering a package that needs her attention immediately," the driver's companion answered.

Looking towards Christine who wasn't moving, Meg took the initiative going back inside the opera house to find her mother.

Christine wondered what was under the tarp and seeing that the driver and his companion were too engrossed in a conversation to notice her, she moved to the back to sneak a peak.

Whatever they were delivering was small by no means. Lifting the cloth a bit, Christine was surprised when a letter fell out. Opening it, she didn't bother to try and forego the seal:

Madame Giry

If you would be so kind to give this to our mutual friend. I thought it was best to offer a peace offering. I saw that his organ had been destroyed. It would be a shame to force him to go without music for too long. Has it been months already since the opera house burned down? I hope you do not mind that I sent it to you, but I could not have sent it to him directly.

I do not know how you will be moving it downstairs, but I'm sure the OG will certainly think of some way.

Vicomte de Chagny

Trying to process this information, she was startled when the back door opened. Quickly pushing the letter back in the envelope and shoving it under the tarp again, she did not notice a second note flutter to the floor.

Madame Giry walked promptly to the driver to pay him. She knew Erik followed closely, and the less people around the better. She was surprised at the delivery, an organ! Who would send her an organ? She eyed the instrument doubtfully.

"Are you certain that this is for me?" she asked dubiously.

The driver rolled his eyes, "You Mme. Giry? Then it's for you."

It was then that she saw the envelope. Mme. Giry took into account the fact that the seal had been broken. She didn't bother to look towards Christine. If she had noticed it, then Erik would have noticed. Christine would get what was coming to her, and probably from the phantom. Madame Giry would also punish her more for not revealing that she had been the one to drop the sandbag. Pushing those thoughts aside for a later time, she focused on the organ and the note in her hands. Reading the note, cleared some facts for her, but it also raised more questions. Why would the Vicomte send Erik an organ? Nodding her head towards the waiting movers, she pointed towards double doors a few meters down. Wasn't Raoul out of town anyway?

Luckily for them, the opera house was equipped to allow entrance to wide loads. Using the props entrance, they were able to maneuver the organ inside the backstage of the opera house.

"An organ?" Meg exclaimed. She immediately jumped to the correct conclusion. It was for the phantom. She would have to speak to her mother privately. The phantom was a touchy subject for Christine, and she didn't want to trouble her.

Christine nodded not really hearing her. She was wondering what the note could mean. Raoul was supposed to have left Paris and be gone for good. How is it that he sent an organ, and why to a "mutual friend"? Since when was the phantom a friend to the Vicomte? Its delivery was too timely. Just after the first day of reopening and the incident and it had been sent. The phantom was gone, but Raoul… she fumed at the thought that Raoul had lied to her. Not only did he not kill the phantom, but he would rather send the phantom gifts than talk with her. She paused. If Raoul had not killed the phantom, did that mean he was still alive? She shook her head. The mob must have killed him. The opera house hadn't heard a squeak from the phantom and she doubted the man could be so quiet. Raoul would feel her wrath though. It would seem that the Vicomte had a soft spot for the dead man. She would be sure to use that fact to her advantage.

These thoughts filled her mind as she blindly followed Meg and Madame Giry inside.

Erik waited until the movers left. He had seen Christine try to hide the note after reading it and he saw the second note fall as well. Quickly scanning the alleyway for any other individual, much like the wind he stepped out and grabbed the note, quickly pocketing it. He would read it after he brought his new organ down to his music room.

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

I know random place to stop, but I wanted to post this as soon as possible, the next chapter will be longer and will have more substance… don't remember Raoul sending an organ… don't worry neither does he. Not yet at least, but let's just wait for the next chapter for that bit.

So, ummm, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o) This time, I swear you may have to wait until Sunday or later before the next chapter… I'm getting no work done right now.

The wording in this one was weird. I'm having a hard time. Writer's block. I'll be sure to spend more time on the next chapter because the fun is really about to begin.