Disclaimer:

If I owned Erik the world would be a happy place,

The sky'd be tinted gold.

But sadly he belongs to Gaston Leroux,

So my world is black and cold.

Chapter 15: The Evils That Men Do

C.C. sat with Meg in the costume room. Or, more accurately, Meg sat on the floor while C.C. lounged invisibly on a rafter.

"What do you know of the ghost?" The Authoress asked suddenly. "I mean, really know? Not just the rumours you've heard about the opera house." Meg thought for a moment.

"There is a stage hand who says. . ."

C.C. sighed tiredly. "What is it with this opera house?" she snapped. "I have to repeat everything to everyone." Meg quaked below her.

"Oh! I'm. . .I. . ."

"I'm sorry, hon." C.C. quickly amended. "I didn't mean to snap. Let's just say it's been a rough day at the office."

"Oh, I understand." Clearly she didn't by the way she frowned and bit her lip, but she obviously didn't feel like telling "the ghost" so.

"So, what do you know about the ghost."

"Not much," the ballerina conceded, "but. . ."

"But what?" The Authoress prodded.

"It's nothing." she paused for a moment. "It's just that sometimes in the dormitory at night. . ."she trailed off for the second time.

This wasn't going anywhere. Well, actually it was going somewhere, it was just taking far too long to get there. And if there was one thing C.C. had never been accused of it was patients. Dramatics on the other hand. . .

"I watched your face from the shadows," she softly sang Meg's own part from what she bet would be a familiar tune. "distant through all the applause. I hear your voice in the darkness, but the words aren't yours."

Meg stared up, wide-eyed. "I thought I was dreaming, but that's it. That's the tune that Christine. . ." she broke off suddenly as she realized she had just stumbled across something very important. She wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but she was getting there.

'And the ballet rat wins the prize.' C.C. thought wryly as she noticed the look of partial recognition. "Ah, Christine Daae." she added aloud. "Lovely girl. Quite the angel, in fact."

Meg's frown deepened. She got the impression that she had just been handed another piece to some complex puzzle this lady ghost was part of. She just couldn't seen to see the picture.

C.C. grinned wickedly. She had never been big on mind games, but this was turning out to be really fun. Doling out little snippets and clues, waiting to see how long it was going to take Meg to connect the dots and discover at least a portion of the tragic love story secretly unfolding around her.

'I give it two weeks before reality finally smacks her upside the head.' he thought to herself.

No, sooner then that. Four days. A week at the most. She's far smarter then you give her credit for. The voice in her head retorted.

'We'll see.' C.C. stood straightening her shirt and cloak as she balanced on the beam. 'I might as well give her another clue or two as I leave. Give your bet a fighting chance.'

"That will be all for today, Meg. As with yesterday, speak to no one. I'll come and fetch you the next time I feel you are needed." she told the girl below her, really getting into role as superordinate Phantom.

Slinking across the beam she slid the section of trick walling aside noiselessly. Before stepping through she allowed her self to turn visible and grant Meg the barest glimpse of a swirling cloak. She knew by Meg's startled gasp that she had timed it at least semi decently. As she slipped thought the opening it the wall she sang a final few bars of music just barely loud enough to reach the other girl clearly.

"Angel of Music do not shun me. Come to your strange Angel. . ."

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Once safely in the tunnels and out of earshot, C.C. broke into a fit of giggles. 'That was a power trip like whoa.'

You really shouldn't have played her like that.

'What are you, my conscience?'

Actually. . .

'Oh, right, you sort of are. But seriously, now is the time you decide to show up. Why are you only ever here after I do whatever heinous deed I did?'

Because guilt is a great motivator not to do something again. I exist in part to make you guilty for your misdeeds.

'Sorry, I don't want to feel guilty. Go away.'

If you insist.

Her mental voice stuck to it's word and was silent, but the damage was done. The Authoress felt horribly guilty. She felt the sudden need to bake cookies or hide under a blanket and pout or any other of her I'm-Miserable-And-I-Hate-The-World activities. "Stupid conscience!" she swore aloud. "Why can't you just let me be evil?"

Because then you wouldn't have the compassion needed for you to want to help Erik and you wouldn't be here in the first place.

"Hey! I thought you said you were leaving!"

Oh, right. Sorry.

"No, it's okay. You're right, anyway. Not that that's really surprising. You're usually right." she stopped suddenly as a realization struck her. "You know, I should probably stop talking aloud to myself before someone sees me and I lose my pretence of sanity."

That might be the first sensible thing you've said all afternoon.

'Do you have to rub it in?'

It is my job.

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C.C. reentered the lair having fully depressed herself, but then, self depression was something she'd always been good at. Her mother said it was the Sicilian in her, but she always figured that it was because she was cursed with a mind creative enough to vocalize fights with her own conscious.

She found Erik reading in the library and plopped herself down at the foot of chair with a spectacular sigh. She took off her hat and mask and fluffed her curls, all while staring depressingly at the pattern of the Persian carpet on the floor. Due to the fact that Erik had a keen grasp of the obvious, he immediately knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder. He wasn't used to initiating contact, nor was he used to comforting anyone, but there was a first time for everything, right?

She leaned her head back against his leg and looked up at him with soulful green eyes. "I'm sorry, Erik." she said simply. The answer confused him slightly.

"What do you have to be sorry for, exactly?"

She sighed again. "Me. Everyone. The world. We really, really suck. And I'm sorry for it. We're nothing but cruel and evil and we suck."

Erik stared at her oddly for a few moments before speaking. "I'm not quite sure what that means, but I assure you, you don't 'suck'. I won't say the same of the rest of the world, but I will of you."

C.C. smiled weakly up at him. "Yeah, I do, but thanks for saying that."

Not liking the current mood that had settled in the room and finding no other way of changing it, Erik decided to change the subject. "Now that you're back, you can rescue that satanic minion you seem to insist on calling a kitten."

C.C. shot up. "What did you do to my baby?" she demanded. Her demeanor changing drastically as she glared daggers at Erik.

"Nothing. She is simply barricaded in the pantry. She and I had a few. . . disagreements."

"Erik!" she snapped. "What's the worse she could have done? She's a kitten for Hugh's sake!"

The Phantom scoffed. "This coming from a girl who was reduced to a mewling heap after an encounter with a poodle."

C.C. flushed bright red. "That was different!" she insisted.

Actually, it wasn't really. Her mental voice threw in.

'Oh, you stay out of this.' she barked at the voice in her head before rushing off to save her kitten from the devices of the Phantom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX A/N: Le gasp! A filler chapter! Head for the proverbial hills!

Sorry folks, nothing really interesting happened this chapter, but it had to happen to set things up for future chapters. There will be much more Christine coming, and soon I might actually manage to get our favourite couple on the same side of a page break. (Insert Squees here.) As always, I hope y'all enjoyed.

Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,

SP

Cassiopeia Lilly: -laughs- I really have nothing to do with these exchanges, do I?

Muse!Erik: No, you don't. Stop being jealous that I get more reviews than you. Now where was I? Oh yes, my loyal reviewer. It truly is a shame about your Erik. Although I dare say he's hardly deserving of the title of Opera Ghostif he was so blind as to abandon such delectable baking skills.

PhantomMiddleEarthLover: Well, one does have to have a firm hand with Christines. They're rather like a Cocker Spaniel in that way. Great to have around, but turn your back for a minute and they've gone and done something almost inhumanly stupid. Like dump a sexy Phantom and marry a fop.

Muse!Erik: -smirks seductively- I'm glad to see that our. . .interests run so similarly, love. Although in the future, the term you want is "Bravo Erik.". Brava is feminine, something I -winks- certainly am not.

C.C.: -gags- Erik, when exactly did you turn into a flirt?

Muse!Erik: When you decided you wanted a sexy and charming Phantom for a muse.

C.C.: -eye roll- Right, how could I forget.

Pawfoot: Of course! Isn't she the cutest?

Muse!Erik: -snorts- What is it with girls and kittens?

Affirmed Hope: -does a happy dance of her own- Thanks for sticking by me when I was struggling with her. And squee for E/C goodness! You hear that Erik, she cut you off from your brownies! Says you have to learn to play nice before you get any more. I'm guessing that means you can't give her death threats. (Go Bek!)

Muse!Erik: -Growls-

Just Plain Insane: Glad you liked your disclaimer. Oh, and you kill that fop! You kill him like whoa!

Muse!Erik: -fondly stokes Punjab lasso- For once I agree wholeheartedly with you.

MTL: At least your name's short-ish. Mine was the bane of my teachers' existence. "Crystal-Christine Some French second name they couldn't pronounce." -eye roll- I'm glad you find my little masquerade clever, I figured I already spend so much time running around the house in a mask, fedora, and cloak that I might as well make it official. On a phictional level, anyway. Plus, it was helpful when dealing with Christine.

Muse!Erik: Oh, my Christine. She is music.

C.C.: Stop moping! -hits Erik across the head- And since when did you start quoting Y/K?

Darth Gilthoron: FAB! Squee! This makes you the first boy to have tried to navigate the insanity that is me attempting to be funny Even my brother and significant other ran away in fright. And what's this I hear, you would be irritated to have been referred to as the cute gay boy who coined such phrases and DDS and Mr. Sexy McSexmuffin, why ever for? -giggles-

Muse!Erik: They ran with good reason, considering the terms of my existence I am in the position to know these things. And say hello to your Erik and your sister for me, she's quite lovely if memory serves.