A/N: See, I told you I'd get this chapter out faster than the last one. Yay for the weekends afer midterms. No homework and an exhausted mind makes for very humorous situations. Anyway, this chapter I learn that haunting an opera house isn't all roses and dropping backgrounds on people. As always, I hope y'all enjoy.

Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,

SP

Disclaimer: I OWN IT! IT IS MINE! MINE! MY OWN! MY PRECIOUS! Oh, look, nice men in white coats!

Chapter 9: The Dangers of Haunting an Opera House

"Come on!" C.C.'s voice was a whispered hiss as she tugged at Erik's cloak. "Let's get this party started already!" They had sat perched in the catwalks for nearly two hours watching the ballet rehearsals. At first C.C. had sat silently, enthralled by the grace of the dancers' familiar movements, but she had begun to grow tired of just watching.

"Will you be quite?" he hissed back. "We don't want to alert the entire opera house to our presence! It wouldn't be good for the Opera Ghost to be caught crouched in the shadows arguing with an abhorrent little chit of girl such as yourself!"

"Oh, no," she teased, "they'd never catch us doing any such thing." A familiar wicked grin flashed across her face, right before she turned invisible. "They'd catch you arguing with thin air."

"You know," he shot angrily, "someday something will happen that you, in all your obnoxious wisdom, did not prepare for. Then we'll see who's the clever one."

"As if that will ever happen." The Authoress shot back, unintentionally invoking one of the most ancient and powerful of jinxes.

We'll see." Erik said knowingly, "We'll see."

C.C. was saved from having to think up what would have been a less than witty retort by a sudden cacophony erupting from the stage below.

"I am 'ere! We beh starting now, so I can beh leaving! Maestro! Why you taka zo long? I zaid we are a starting NOW!"

Perched in his seat in the heavens, Erik breath escaped him in a little hiss and he cringed noticeably as a flashy Italian woman strode on stage and began to issue orders. Even if she had been deaf, dumb, and blind, C.C. would have instantly been able to recognize the figure. There was only one woman in the world who could make Erik react like that, the Paris Opera's prima donna, La Carlotta.

Watching her swagger about the stage issuing commands, C.C. was reminded instantly of her insane next door neighbor's teacup Chihuahua. The resemblance was uncanny actually. They both seemed to do nothing but strut around yapping and growling harshly, managing to cow everyone in the room with a grating voice, and yet, they were comically pathetic. On the stage below the music began to swell, only to be cut off by yet another of Carlotta's shrieks.

"I am a not being ready yet! Can you be-ah doin' nu'ting right?" she yowled, then turned on her maid, "Where is mah boxy! I vant mah boxy!"

As the maid scrambled to bring Carlotta the ornately carved box containing her breath spray, the two spirits watched from above in disgust. "Can we please drop something on her?" C.C. asked through gritted teeth, "Preferably something large and very, very heavy."

"No." Erik answered with obvious regret. "We'll not do anything to drastic," then shooting her a conspirative look, "just yet."

"So what's the game plan?" C.C. asked returning his conspiratorial smile. Then off Erik's questioning look, "You do have a plan, don't you?" Erik huffed at the suggestion and with a curt nod leaned over and hastily whispered the plan in the girl's ear.

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A few minutes later C.C. stood invisibly in the wings of the stage. Staring daggers at the lead soprano flouncing about Erik's domain as if it were the she owned it, silently the Authoress tried to devise a way to get her to move behind the stage's back curtains. It was turning out to be harder than she had anticipated. Carlotta, it seemed, did not often stray from center-center. C.C. was about to lose her patients and simply drag the singer off when she noticed a slight movement to her right. One of Carlotta's maids had set down the diva's precious ball of white fuzz that masqueraded as a dog, momentarily abandoning the yappy little dust mop in order to chat with a rather handsome stage hand.

'Bingo!' C.C. thought as she snuck soundlessly towards her brainless cotton ball of a victim. However, she got more than she'd bargained for when she pounced upon the poodle. Her memory was jogged violently as she rediscovered the hard way that even the most dim-witted rodents of dogs still have teeth.

"Rah-yap! Ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-yap!" The poodle's shrill and wrawling yips filled the stage as it attempted to sink acanthoid little poodle teeth into it's invisible would-be captor. The tables quickly turning as C.C. tried to flee the pint sized powderpuff of death, forgetting to remain invisible in her haste to escape its slavering little jaws. She ducked and wove through set pieces and dangling counter balances, but it was to no avail. Soon the tiny terror had her backed into a corner with no means of escape. With one last look at the quickly approach ball of fuzz and fury, C.C. closed her eyes and prayed for the mauling to be over quickly.

The Authoress waited for the inevitable rush of pain of pain that would accompany the poodle sinking its needle-like little fangs into her tender flesh, but apparently the all mighty Hugh was smiling upon her that day. Without warning there was a throaty growl, a terrified yip, and the hasty clicking of nails as the demonic little Q-Tip flew off towards the safety of its mistress' arms.

Suddenly C.C. was swooped up in a muscular pair of arms and quickly spirited away. She opened her eyes only to find herself staring up at Erik, snug against his chest as he fled the stage before anyone could investigate the previous commotions.

"Oh, thank Hugh! You. . .you. . . you saved me!" she wailed, throwing her arms around Erik's neck for the second time that day, she shook like a terrified Chihuahua and nearly began to sob as she snuggled into his strong chest.

Oh, will you STOP THAT! The voice in her head shouted disgustedly. You're acting like the biggest Mary Sue to ever disgrace the world of phiction!

'I can't help it!' she mentally sobbed back at it. 'It was gonna. . .was gonna. . .EAT ME!'

Oh. Dear Lord! It was a miniature poodle! Not a German Pinscher!

'It was still. . .'

C.C.'s thought was cut off as she was deposited roughly back into the gondola. "What were you thinking?" Erik raged at he as he got himself situated. "Or were you even thinking at all? You very well could have ruined everything. This is my kingdom, my world, my life! And you almost just cost me everything! What do you have to say for yourself?" Shamefully she looked up at him as he nearly shook with fury. He was right. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Well?" He demanded forcefully.

"Thank you, Erik." she said quietly, her gaze fixing on the floor of the little craft.

"I neither need nor care for your excu. . ." The Phantom raved a moment more before he comprehended the girl's words. "What did you just say?" he asked perplexedly, his voice turning soft as his anger seemed to almost drain away from him.

C.C. looked up at him, their masked gazes met as she caught and held his turquoise eyes with her emerald ones. "I said 'Thank you'," she answered slowly, "and then I called you 'Erik'." Staring deeply and confidently into his uncertain gaze, she continued. "That is your name, isn't it?"

She already knew the answer to the question, every phangirl worth her OLC soundtrack did, that's not why C.C. had asked the question. She was looking for a response, one she awaited anxiously as she searched his conflicted face. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he answered. "Yes," he said softly, tearing his gaze away from hers. "It was once."

"And still is."The Authoress corrected him. "Despite what you have the Paris Opera House thinking, you're still a man." she informed him. Then added, "Trust me on this one." as she stared at the brawny arms that had scooped her up mere moments before.

He eyed her skeptically from behind his mask. Giving a small sigh, the girl continued. "Lesson one," she stated softly yet firmly, "Christine can't love a ghost as a man. She's going to see a man before she can love one."

It was Erik's turn the heave a heavy sigh. "Your probably right." his voice was barely above a whisper, but C.C. heard it clearly.

"Of course I am, Erik!" she shot cheerily. "I'm the Authoress! It makes me right by default!"

Smiling despite himself, Erik rolled his eyes dramatically at the girl. They spent the rest of the ride home in companionable silence. There was nothing else left to say and they both knew that anything else would just spoil the moment. Silently C.C. smiled to herself. She and the Opera Ghost were having "a moment." For the first time in what seemed like and eternity, all was good and right with the world.

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C.C.: Okay, Erik, are you ready for the review replies?

Muse!Erik: Are you ready for a slow painful death?

C.C.: Awwww! He's so cute when he threatens my life! -huggles Muse!Erik. Much to his annoyance.-

Blonde Charger: Good to see a familiar face. . .or, well, familiar name anyway. Hmmm. . . "the makings of a great parody". It's not what I was going for, but I think I like it!

Muse!Erik: Oh gods, girl, you're recruiting reviewers from those horrid forums you're always on now! You realize how desperate you're getting for approval.

C.C.: Me? I'm desperate? Remind me again, which one of us is it that's always singing Music of the Night at the widow, trying to entice any girl on two legs into your closet?

Muse!Erik:. . .

MTL: You have a Leroux!Erik-y type phantom, eh my twin? Muse!Erik's my own special Hugh/Gerik blend. Equipped with Gerik clothing, of course! -drools- Mmmm. . .pants.

Muse!Erik: What is it with you women! You're all bloody well obsessed! The pants and I are not interested in you!

C.C.: Erik! What did I tell you about crushing the dreams of my favourite reviewers? Do you want me to take away your weapons privileges again?

solitairebbw218: Hear that, Erik? I incited a snort-induced husband inquiry! -feels all warm and fuzzy inside- Welcome aboard my plot-less madness!

Muse!Erik: Well, at least she's married! I can sleep at night knowing that there's one phan out there I won't have to pry forcibly from my pants!

pixiestars162: Thanks! I'll try!

Muse!Erik: That review was short enough I can't find anything to insult. My world is all askew.