Jen was tired. Not her usual tired, but really truly tired. She had had no idea that playing in the Populaire's orchestra would mean waking up so early. Then Eddy had come knocking at her door, wondering where she was. With a groan she had answered. She knew he had wanted to laugh- she must have looked awful. She saw Gabby in the room next to hers have a similar reaction to the early morning. In fact, she was surprised her friend even heard the knock.

"Jen, rehearsal starts in ten minutes, why are you still sleeping?" the Frenchman asked, looking at her worriedly. "Are you ill?"

"No…" she sounded dead, "I just was not aware that we had to be up so early."

"Early?" he looked confused. Jen nodded irritably. "It is early. Uh…Jet lag, ya know." More confusion in those brown eyes. Jen groaned and glared at the ceiling. Damn not being able to communicate with these people! Of course, she knew, if Erik had come to wake her she would be more than willing to do anything. She imagined that scene play out. 'On second thought…yeah right…'

"Give me five minutes and I'll be ready." She growled, slamming the door in his face. She hoped she had not offended or frightened Edward too much. Yawning, she opened one of the drawers that held clothes for her. She pulled out a skirt-black, and a blouse- also black. Groaning, she pulled out another skirt…and another. Jen hated skirts and/or dresses, no matter what the occasion. She would have to go shopping later. Pulling the clothing on, she muttered and grumbled and complained to herself, as was her custom in the morning. Once dressed, if unsatisfied, she picked up the hairbrush and quickly ran it through her hair a few times. Apparently, her 1800's self's hair was much easier to manage. She had to admit, she thought she was slightly prettier as she looked now. Maybe it was because she had lost that childish look. Or maybe some unseen force was at work. Either way, she still wasn't much to look at.

Re-opening the door, she looked at Edward, who seemed to have braced himself for another tongue-lashing. "Let's go…" she muttered. Eddy nodded, and briskly took off down the hall. Jen almost had to sprint to keep up. Once in the orchestra pit, the female percussionist began to set up her very small area. Edward helped her. Jen looked around for certain items she was used to, and he asked why. "Because it is how I play."

"I'm sorry we don't have any of that Jen. I can go with you later and help you find some things though. For now can you just use a plain music stand?"

"I guess." She replied irritably. No towel to put sticks on, only a metal music stand? How DID they put their things down without making noise. Once set, with much help from Edward, she sat down in a chair. Edward sat next to her and handed her a packet of music. "I hope you do not mind too much if I play timpani and drum for the most part…"

"Not at all. I suppose I play mallet percussion and everything else?"

"Yes. If you do not mind." He watched her reaction closely. Jen shook her head. "I am better with mallet stuff anyway…in high school none of the other percussionists wanted to play them, so I got good at marimba. I was marimba 1 during marching season…I think I can handle this. My four mallet technique rather sucks however."

Edward simply blinked, and did not bother asking what 'high school' or 'marching season' were. And he himself had never seen someone play with four mallets. Jen took the packet of music he offered her, and she looked over it, mentally learning her parts. "I am sorry to tell you that the performance is uh…well, it is tonight."

Those grey eyes widened. "Are you serious? I have to learn all of this by TONIGHT?"

Edward nodded. "Yes, I am afraid you do. We were not planning on our other percussionist to quit until after the production of Hannibal. Do not worry, however, you shall have more than enough days to play it. This Opera shall be preformed for then next week or so before we begin our next."

"Oh, that's comforting…and you could have told me that little gem last night." She glared at the music now, no longer tired. She was too irritable to be tired. Now she knew how Christine was going to feel when the role of what's-her-name is placed on her shoulders. Sighing, Jen went over to the instruments she would be playing. No reason to delay learning everything.

XxXxXxXxX

Rehearsal was going smoothly enough, or so Erik thought. Well, almost…he really needed to get that horrid cow off the stage. She had no right to sing the part of Elise. None at all. Of course that stupid man running the theatre was too afraid of her to take it away, and those new men who had just arrived moments ago were no better. Perhaps they would be worse. Erik scowled, he had just reached such a friendly agreement with the previous management. La Carlotta would regret not heeding his notes. And God knew he had sent enough. Glancing about the rafters, Erik looked for something, anything, that he could use. Seeing the backdrop for the stage nicely rolled up he grinned devilishly. Perfect. Moving gracefully toward it, almost like a cat, nothing more than a shadow, he neatly cut the rope keeping it in place. Returning the knife to it's sheath he grinned like a small child as gravity carried it back down to the stage and it made impact with a wondrous crash- right on top of the diva.

Erik resisted the urge to laugh, and tossed a letter down after it. A final look, and he scurried away, seeking the refuge of the shadows once more. Down below he still heard the terrified sounds of the ballet girls and shrieking of the insulted diva. When the sound of her leaving reached him Erik smirked. Just as planned, he thought, just as planned.

XxXxXxXxX

Jen covered her laugh with her hand. She had known what was about to happened, or at least had formed a good idea. Now that screeching crow was gone, and the new would-be diva was about to begin singing. Playing her part, she listened. The girl WAS good, she could not deny it. However, she would never forgive Christine for the pain she would cause so many people. Not just the vicomte- who did look better in real life than on screen, if not by much- and the Phantom, but also all those attending when Don Juan Triumphant would be preformed.

The remainder of the day progressed rather well. An hour was given at noon for lunch, and then three hours before the performance they were given a break. Jen, Edward, Gabby, and Joseph decided to go for dinner, visiting a small café located near the Opera Populaire.

"So, how you doing?" Jen asked Gabby. Her friend shrugged. "I'm managing and no longer sight reading…at least not most of it."

"That is good." Her friend replied. "I guess I am lucky that if I don't know it yet, someone else in my sections does."

"Indeed you are. Percussion sometimes sucks because we always solo…" Jen took a bite of her quiche and looked at the guys. Edward blinked and Joseph just looked confused. She gave them a sheepish grin and went back to eating. Silence reigned for the better part of the evening before the foursome left. Gabby and Joseph returned to the Opera house, while Jen and Edward went to purchase the supplies he had promised to help her find. Once they had made the purchases- Edward had paid for them after much debate, and then they decided to just walk. Jen had never been to Paris, but had wanted to come. And though it was not the modern Paris she knew from pictures, it WAS still Paris and good enough for her. Edward led her around the city, letting her admire all of it. He talked to her, and taught her some more French, which caused them both to laugh as she mispronounced it all.

"I think Jen," he said, "that the problem is your accent." Jen shrugged. "Probably." She replied, grinning. "But I can't really help it. I worked rather hard on my Scottish accent, and I rather like it." It was true- she loved the accent, and had watched enough stuff with Scottish accented people to pick most of it up. She didn't sound like a Scot speaking it, but she sounded better than a lot of Americans trying to do an impression, or so she thought.

They stopped at a small ice cream shop and bought some dessert. Afterwards Edward decided that they needed to return to the Opera House- the pre-performance rehearsal would be starting soon. They had to run back, and entered the Populaire breathless and laughing. Other musicians gave them harsh glares and they stopped, but grinned when they looked at each other. They did a run through of the areas in the Opera that needed work, giving the young Miss Daae a final chance to get everything right. People began to enter the theatre and Jen took a deep breath. This was it. The conductor tapped his baton and the crowd's roar died down to a murmur, and then silence. The Opera began.

XxXxXxXxX

From his place in the cellars, Erik heard everything. His angel's beautiful voice floated down to him, and he sighed. He had taught her well. He doted upon her like a father on his favorite daughter. Or a lover on his lady. A ghost of a smile passed the Phantom's lips, and he savored every moment of Christine's singing.

His blissful state did not last for long. He knew Tai was there before he ever turned around. With an irritable sigh he turned to face her. "You had to come, didn't you." She nodded. "Why can't I escape from you for just ten minutes!"

"I am sorry monsieur, but I am still in hiding. I do not mean to annoy you though. I am just lonely and in need of a friend." For once, she did not seem hyper, happy, or in any way Tai-ish. She was what she said- sad, lost, and lonely. Erik could not help but pity her. "Fine, you may stay here. But keep quiet."

Her nod spoke volumes of gratitude and she sat by his feet and simply listened.

XxXxXxXxX

Raoul de Chagny sat in box five and smiled down at the woman on stage. It WAS Christine, his boyhood crush and closest friend. It had been years since he had seen her. It was wonderful seeing a familiar face after so long, especially on one of the greatest stages in the world. He wished Christine had noticed him, but there was little chance of that. He had seen her earlier and she had not seemed to notice. He would have said something, but he did not want to disturb her from her rehearsing. Her song ended, and he stood, applauding with all he could muster.

The performance had been most wonderful he thought, standing and leaving his chair. He picked up the large bouquet of flowers from his carriage before asking where Miss Daae was. The managers offered to go with him.

"I would prefer to make this visit alone." He told them gently yet firmly. They glanced at each other and shrugged, obviously thinking he intended more than he really did. Raoul sighed and rolled his eyes. Why did people always think someone meant more than they said?

The vicomte reached the door of Christine's dressing room and knocked lightly. When there was no reply he simply opened it, deciding that they had known each other for a long time. "Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls, or of, or shoes?" he said softly.

Christine turned around, surprised. Her expression changed to one of joy rapidly. "Raoul!" he smiled. "Or chocolates?" they both grinned and he placed the bouquet of flowers on the dresser. "No, what I like best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head."

"You sang like an angel" he told her, embracing her as a long lost friend. She smiled. "Raoul, I have been visited by the Angel of Music." Raoul pulled back, much quicker than he had intended and looked at her seriously. "Christine…"

"Really Raoul, I have!" The vicomte was beginning to think that perhaps she was not the sweet girl he had known. Maybe her fathers death had made her delusional? "Christine…" he decided to change the subject, "lets go to dinner. I'll order my carriage."

"No Raoul! The Angel is very strict…"

"You shan't be gone long. Two minutes too change Little Lotte."

"Raoul, wait!" He was already out the door. He hoped that her condition was not serious, and that simply spending time with her would help it. He realized that he still loved her, and perhaps more than he had thought. Christine looked beautiful. Raoul sighed. Now he had to convince her that he was the real angel, not the imaginary voice she knew from a story.

Review Replies:

MJ MOD- Tai isn't telling me anything…so I'm not sure…well, ok, I am. But I'm not telling. Nyah. Lol, thanks for reviewing

Tallacus- Soap Opera! LOL I love how ya put that, tis sorta true…though I never really watched any soap operas…and yeah…Tai IS like him now that ya mention it…lol. And yeah, the part with Tai making a big entrance by crashing and then swearing…that would be very Tai. And modern vocab…you think it is weird with Tai, wait till Jen starts using it…and adding her own words in (much like I do when I talk).

Middlekertz- Hey, cool! I'm glad it kept you interested that long, heheh. And intense triangles are fun, and I must agree, not enough people use them. And as far as pairings, will be interesting…yep…thanks for reviewing!