OK, a quick update, and I hope you enjoy this one, it has a twist.
When your done, check out the vignette I did off of this story, it's called "Mommy, How Did You Meet Daddy?" And I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. It really is cute, you should review it. You know you want too . . .
Chapter Six
A Mistaken Identity
Christine sighed as they went threw yet another tunnel.
She was sick of cobwebs. She was sick of rats. She was sick of the dank, musty air of the underground labyrinth. She was sick of the soot, of the grime, of the water that trickled down the forgotten stone walls, of the memories that accompanied this place. She splashed through another puddle, and winced as the water soaked the bottom of her petticoats. She was going to strangle Erik with his own noose.
Up ahead of Christine Nadir's brow furled in puzzlement. He was almost certain that they had been down this particular tunnel before. That grate had been passed up at least once before.
They were lost.
"The Vicomte's going to be dead by the time that we get there." Christine complained behind him, and he gave an absentminded shrug. Oh well one less fruity noble to worry about.
Christine noticed his nonchalant response, and her eyes narrowed slightly. She really wasn't going to find a likely ally in her Persian friend. A sigh escaped her lips as she cast her eyes across her surrounding's. There had to be something around here that she recognized . . .
Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed something up ahead. Stone cast human hands, unlit tunnels, a large gilded mirror, and a window to the world above. She suddenly knew exactly where she was . . . "My dressing room!" She exclaimed.
Nadir looked ahead to where she had pointed, and hope lit in his jade eyes. Thank Allah! They were saved.
Christine gathered her voluminous blue skirts in her hands, and sprinted forward. Only pausing to work the mirrors mechanism with eager fingers. At her skillful prodding the mirror swung dutifully open to reveal her old rooms to her. She smiled as memory after memory hit her. Some happy, and some sad. It felt so wonderful to be her, so good to be back!
Nadir watched fondly as his friend's wife spun happily around the room, her eyes bright with joy. It was just like old times.
Yet the room no longer belonged to her, and the last thing that they needed was the room's current occupant to come back and find a middle-aged foreign man, and an exuberant former diva in her room. "Come on Christine, we really should be going." Christine sobered, and nodded before following him out of the room. "We need to find your husband before someone else does."
Christine sighed as her predicament came back to her in full force. They really should be going. She smiled as they walked down the hallway that she had walked down so many times before. She smiled. If Erik didn't end up in jail she would consider this a successful trip.
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Above Box 11 Erik smiled.
Unobserved at the hollow crawl space inside the deck that separated the Grand Teir from the Teir below it, and flanked by golden angels on either side of him he stared down threw the small viewing space at the top of the two young people's heads.
For the last twenty minutes he had been using his ventriloquist skills to murmur softly to the boy. Slowly convincing the idiotic Vicomte that he was going insane.
He had forgotten how much fun that this was.
The young man shook his head, as if trying to shake the voice away, and Erik had to suppress a laugh. Oh poor fool, it will take more than that to get rid of me, he thought in amusement.
Oh so much more than that.
Below him the Vicomte moved closer to the woman clad in red, slowly he slipped his arm around her shoulders. Erik was irked. Put your hands back right now you fool, unless you really want to find yourself at the end of a hangman's noose. Yet, the idiot below him seemed determined to ignore his warning. He leaned in, and . . . Golden eyes turned molten, and the fun of convincing the Vicomte to doubt his mental state was suddenly lost. No more mister nice Phantom . . .
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Meanwhile Christine and Nadir just entered the hallway outside of the Grand Teir, intently studying the shadows cast by the dim candle light. No luck, now just wait for the scream, just wait for the scream . . .
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It was easy for Erik to slip the lasso threw the silt that allowed a lamp, or similar decoration to slip through. It was even easier to detach the Vicomte from his daughter by whispering silkily in his ear. "Monsieur, look up, and do remember to keep your hand at the level of your eyes."
The last thing he thought as he leaped down into the box below was strange, the color of those fear-struck eyes were brown, he could have sworn that the Vicomte's eyes were green . . .
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There it was, a scream. It was impossible to miss that ear shattering sound, and Christine groaned. Oh now he really did it. Someone was going to be sleeping on the couch for a very long time.
Still, it gave them a direction to run in, and the sight that greeted them, truly was something to shake the imagination. As suspected there was Erik, and a young blonde man in a noose, yet that didn't seem like the Vicomte. Provided, she had only talked to him for a few seconds . . .
Yet her worst fears were confirmed when she noticed the angry young woman, and the furious green eyes. Aria's eyes were a eye-catching gold, just like her fathers.
Oh no, it was one thing to try to strangle someone, it was another thing entirely to try and strangle the wrong person . . .
She caught Erik's guilty eyes in a murderous gaze as he went to unwrap the noose from around the unfortunate man's neck. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else." He offered a lame apology to the furious woman next to him.
"Why were you trying to strangle him in the first place!"
Erik fumbled for an answer. "I umm . . .I mistook you for my daughter, and then . . .well, he was kissing you, . . .and well." He knew perfectly well that he was droning on like a fool.
The woman sighed as her partner gasped for breath. She held up her left hand to let Erik observe the rather large wedding band on her hand. Was it possible for this moment to get any worse. Christine took pity on her husband, and walked into the couple's view. "I'm so sorry madame, Monsieur, my husband hasn't been doing well lately, and I can assure you that we are leaving now."
The blonde man stepped forward, "Begging your pardon Madame, but you just tried to kill me! Why should I just let you walk away!"
His wife's furious gaze mirrored his.
Erik sighed, and pulled a thick wad of francs out of his cloak, "I'm assure that this will cover any hard feelings, and injuries sustained."
The couple's eyes lit up at the sight of so much money, and Erik was able to breath a sigh of relief.
Needless to say they left as quickly as possible. Erik tried his best to avoid Christine's furious gaze. Maybe he should of taken his chances with the authorities. Nothing they could do could compare with whatever Christine was thinking . . .
Through the haze of swirling emotions he realized that he still had no idea where Aria and her date were . . .
Not my best chapter, yet funny I think. Trust me, it really gets better from here.
Next chapter . . . we drop in on the happy couple
MJ
