A/N: This should have been in the last chapter, but I get insanely lazy at 4am so there! -blows raspberry-. Anyway, the first half of chapter one is a true story, I really did get the idea for this story when my mum was out and I was yelling at the televison. It's kind of crazy and so far has no plot, but I hope yall enjoy.

Your Obedient Servant,

SP

Disclaimer: I spent all of last week trying to get The Really Useful Group to hand over the rights to POTO, but then security threatened to get out pepper spray so I had to leave.

Chapter 2: Possible, Just Not Plausible

"Aaahhhhh!" Splash!

C.C. had (as you've probably all inferred,) fallen into the middle of everybody's favorite black, glossy lake. As her eyes adjusted, she made out the outline of the entrance of the lair. Grimacing, she started to swim towards the portcullis.

Serves you right, her mental voice chided her. This is what happens when you don't plan your entrance. One drops in on you. Or well, you kinda drop in on it.

"Oh do shut up!"She snapped at the voice in her head.

You know, her mental voice shot back, when you both hear voices and answer them you're clinically insane.

Fortunately, C.C. was spared the humiliation of having just outwitted herself. She had reached the portcullis. Pressing herself against the algae-covered grate, she peered around the lair. This was normally the point of the story where she would have gone into a long, drawn out description of the lair using dark, sexy, and mysterious language, but since y'all have seen the movie she didn't see the need to bother.

"I suggest, Mademoiselle, that you go back the way you came."

"Jesus, Mary, and Hugh! How did you do that? No wait, don't answer that, it's just part of your charm." C.C. shot a slightly embarrassed grin at the Phantom who had seemingly materialized on the other side of the portcullis. Erik, however, was less than amused.

"Leave now, or I will be forced to assist you." He said icily as he fingered the Punjab lasso coiled neatly at his side.

"You could try," she countered, "but I can guarantee it will be on the ineffectual side."

"And why is that?" Erik hissed. He was infuriated by the girls boldness, but she had sparked his curiosity.

"Because," she explained, "in ten seconds I am going to be hit with a freak blast of natural radiation that enables me to turn incorporeal and/or invisible at will." She flashed him another grin.

By this time Erik had decided that the raven-haired girl in front of him was completely insane. He was about to punjab her when he was suddenly blinded by a flash of brilliant green light. He blinked several times and regained his vision just in time to see her walk through the iron gate as though it were nothing more than mere illusion.

"See?" she chirped happily. Enjoying her moment of power, C.C. walked over to Erik, planted a hand on his chest, and gave him a light shove. The Phantom was so startled that he could not regain his balance and tumbled unceremoniously into a heap on the floor.

"What . . . How did . . . " Erik sputtered on the floor, than taking a deep breath he regained what was left of his composure. "That was impossible." he finished coolly.

"Not at all." she answered, reveling in his confusion. "It was entirely possible, just not very probable. You see, Monsieur le Fantôme, I find it to be horridly lazy writing to make things just happen, but many plot devises I'm needing I have no probable or logical way of getting. After a painful amount of intense problem solving I came up with a workable solution. It goes like this, if I can think up a way to get what I need that's technically possible, it doesn't have to be probable, ergo walking through solid iron." As she finished, C.C. stared down at Erik and waited for his reply, a smirk planted firmly on her face.

For a moment the just stared at each other, the flabbergasted Phantom (say that three times fast!) and the slightly too cocky authoress. "Who are you?" he finally managed.

"That," she purred with a deceptively sweet smile, " will just have to wait till the mornin'. I'm real tired, and I think we both could use some rest." With that she turned and flounced toward the swan bed. "And by the way," she threw over her shoulder, "I wouldn't suggest trying anything, for instance, oh I don't know, killing me brutally while I'm asleep. My phangirl senses will get all tingly if you get within about five metres. So it would pretty much be a waste of time." Crawling into the bed she added an overly chipper "Goodnight!". Then she fell into the instant and deep sleep of a second year university student, leaving the utterly dumbfounded phantom to stare slack-jawed at her sleeping form.