Author´s notes: For those of you wondering how I came up with the idea of Leroux in the story: we were searching for a French surname for Meg´s hottie, and the name Gaston was on the list of French names… and it just sort of hit me that it might be good. Anyway, Enrinye wanted him to be called Sebastian, but complied and it became his middle name. Note – Leroux didn't have a middle name, to our knowledge. Alright, next chapter! And this one is even a bigger cliffhanger than the last one! Anyway, ROOFTOP SCENE CONTINUES!

unseen-presence – Yeah, Enrinye was surprised as well when I suggested having Leroux there… read on!

Phantom'sJediBandieGirl – don't you worry, we can handle the twist and turn it into an acceptable plotbunny… and besides, smooth? I don't think so.

AngelOfMusic387 – yes, romance is to come! Thanks for reading, I hope you really like it. yes, most is going alright, but don't let yourself be fooled – twists are to come! Thanks again and read on.

Onelastchance – (whips out lightsaber and slashes vegetables) Any other takers? (grin) (saber glitters eerily) Anyhow, rooftop scene continues here.

Raoulisafop – the only photos of him I found are where he´s middle aged or older, so no idea what he looked like before… read on!

Erik's Phantomess – heh, naturally… here´s some more, thanks for reading and reviewing!

mrs. Malfoy - yeah, Enrinye was actually waiting for you to review, for obvious reasons. Gotta love Lucius ;) Anyway, Jason rocks. Here´s another chapter.

Nota Lone – too true – who cares about it? It's a phanphic! Anyhow, sexy!Leroux might be one of a kind… read on!

Enrinye – (cough) Jason Isaacs (cough) :)

X X X

Chapter 9 – Karate Chris can keep cool

X X X X

Christine, or rather Regina, trained to be able to fend off people who sneak up on her by several fast martial art motions that included a hand around their throat, jumped, startled, then realized that she wasn't supposed to try to stun him, and that her chances of success in stunning someone proficient in handling a Punjab lasso were low. Since that happened in the span of three seconds, she half-stopped herself from a good kick she was about to deliver, which resulted in her hitting her right foot against the edge of the roof, hard.

She was still turned away from him, so she bit back the stream of insults that was about to get out of her mouth. Shutting her eyes tight, that resulted with tears falling from her eyes, more because of anger than pain, and she wasn't able to wipe them without him seeing – and that counted as a bad thing. She didn't know she looked as if she had been crying for a while now, but imagined that it would be misinterpreted quite badly… probably to her advantage.

Turning on her heel, she came face to face – as she had expected – with none other than Erik. That was the good part. The bad part was that she didn't know what to say. What does a person say after someone they trust just happen to kill someone, anyway? She didn't like Buquet… but she didn't approve of murder, either (though she did not deny that it was an effective way of solving the problem).

She compensated with opening her mouth twice to speak, but only looked like a freshly caught fish, which was probably what the Christine part of her would have done, anyway, and it seemed to be mostly the reaction Erik would believe to get. What really surprised her was that he actually looked worried what her next reaction would be (once she would recover the power of speech).

"Christine…" he repeated, taking a step forward, "Don't be afraid."

"Should I be?" Christine asked, swallowing, "When I displease you during singing lessons," she knew well that was total nonsense, but wanted to appear a bit more ingénue-like and that meant she had to be clueless to the obvious signs of affections… at least she hoped that was right. The movie taught her that, anyway. "will you also hang me?"

Erik seemed to be totally stunned by the mere idea, but looked more saddened that she would even think that than anything else, but then said: "I doubt it, my dear. You see, your performances are as stunning as always… I see little gain from killing my only student."

Christine shook her head in disbelief. "And what have you gained from killing that man!"

"Many reasons. To be brief, trying to follow me was a bad idea… especially on a night like this." He paused, clearly thinking of an even clearer explanation. "Temper."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Christine turned away. "And these… fits of rage… do they come often? For no reason at all?" There were times when it was good to be friends with someone who had wanted to become a psychologist, and this was one of them. "Why? Why is the only solution you can think of murder?"

No answer came.

Christine sighed again. She was running out of lines. "I don't agree with this…but talking about it won't change anything. But it made me realize that… I don't know you." Turning back to him, she attempted a desperate expression. She had a lot of guts, trying to attempt what she was about to attempt, but this was a time for desperate measures. And cliché lines. "And…" Remain hesitant, Chris, she reminded herself, "I… I'd like to… know you."

Get it? Get it! Should I point at your face, honey! Or do we do this the hard way and I snatch the thing… because, you know, it's a big obstacle in our relationship, ya know. Trust, it's called. Christine mentally yelled, And one day, I'll have to do it, any I'm not in the mood to be yelled at right now, so be a good Phantom and let's get this over with.

He seemed to get it, that was for sure, but Christine decided that she had to say it outright – she doubted he'd do it if she wouldn't ask. Scratch that, plead. Unable to think of a convincing line, she took a step towards him, raising her hand. Now she wasn't faking the uncertain face any longer. If this wouldn't work, it could end badly. Still, it was worth a try.

"May I?" she asked, taking yet another step. I'm still alive, I'm still alive.

There was no outward reaction from him, he merely continued to look at her, almost as if he had gotten a proper look at her for the first time ever. This intimidated Christine far more by anything else. The fact that he didn't flinch or move away when she finally reached for the mask was a bit encouraging, but she caught a glimpse of the distinctly sad look in his eyes that she translated as "You're going to regret this, my dear."

For only a second, her hand rested on the mask, then she swiftly pulled it off.

X X X

Meg was speechless.

She was staring at him, she knew well, but this was just ridiculous. Gaston Leroux? Of all the guys she could have met… Leroux? THE Leroux! Alright, this is bad. Meg thought, biting her lip for a moment. This made no sense. This was the musical-turned-movie, not the novel! Anyway, she didn't have time to concern herself with this miraculous appearance of the famous author, because she was aware that she was supposed to continue the conversation.

She compensated the shock with a weak but happy laugh, as if it were just a good joke. "Thank you again for saving me, Monsieur Leroux."

"No need, Mademoiselle Giry. I daresay any man would have hasted to your aid, should you ever need it." Meg finally smiled. "But the appearance of the body and the other peculiar events of tonight are rather… strange, wouldn't you say?"

Meg waved a hand dismissively. "It's only natural, Monsieur. You don't go round upsetting Le Fantôme dell´Opera and expect him to be nice to you afterwards."

As mundane as it seemed to her, it appeared to have caught his interest. "There have been rumors of a ghost in this Opera house… but only rumors. I would assume the voice we had all heard tonight was this… phantom?"

"Oh, yes." Meg said, nodding. "Box 5 is his reserved seat, everyone knows that. the new managers sold it – an unwise move, if you ask me – and he got mad. He's never appeared before, so this was very exciting… before the murder happened, naturally." She added, to sound normal. "He usually only sends notes with instructions."

"Indeed?" Leroux asked, genuinely interested. "I'd like to hear more of this – it seems fascinating to hear an insider's account of things. If it wouldn't bother you, Mademoiselle, perhaps we could meet sometime and talk about this…?"

Meg beamed, trying hard not to seem too eager. Jackpot, jackpot! "Oh… oh, naturally, Monsieur!" Stop smiling, idiot! She scolded herself. "When?"

"Tomorrow, perhaps? I could come here for you and take you for lunch, if you would like to."

Deal, honey! "Alright, then." Meg said with a smile.