I keep forgetting to put this: I still don't own the original characters and am only borrowing them.(but I'm working on my hypno ray...) Credit for characters to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber/ Charles Hart (who wrote most of the lyrics, actually); I just like manipulating them in my own little world. Making no profit, only writing for the sheer joy of it, etc.

Hey all! I've been living off of fanfiction for the past couple days (sort of sad, yes) since I didn't have to take finals (I like this exempt thing). But I'm gradutating tomorrow (I'm so excited!) so I thought I'd share another chapter; that and I was tired of waiting for other people to update (always looking for new stories).

A hundred thank you's to reviewers!

Victorian Dream: glad you like the image. it makes me chuckle... thank you!

gavvie: haaa accepted yodaness is yes.(that was a pretty good flick but I laughed so hard at Darth Vader's"NOOoooo!" just because it was so Hollywood (even though it was at a really sad part). Yeah, Leroux's Erik did sound pretty vampire-esque so I thought I'd just complete it. Glad you like it! Thank you!

DragonheartRAB: Glad I caught your attention. Yes, the mirror thing will be sort of important later. -:wink:- Thank you!

Weird Kitty Foxglove: Oh! Yeah, totally forgot about that; it was one of those things where you smack yourself on the forehead with a loud 'DUH'. Hmmm...what excuse can I fabricate? I think we're going to have to go with the musical's "Philippe exists but not he's not there" sort of mentality or perhaps I should just state outright that this is post musical/movie with book details added in here and there. Thanks for bringing that to light (I'll go read the book again) and thanks for reviewing.

Lizzie Black: Here it is. Thank you!

lazy.kender: Aww shucks. :) glad you liked the image. BTW, Erik will visit Christine relatively soon (with a little less biting). Thank You!

phantomgoddess34: Aww thank you! I've really been fighting to keep Erik consistent. Thanks again.

Neori:haaa I emailed you first anyway; if you kill me, I can't update, now can I? Thank you!

Emily Willow: Thank you!

Susie Q: Philippe is so much fun to write, too. You really shouldn't gloat just because you're privelged (soon to be roomie or not, I can hold out on you! (or lock you out of the room)). -:smirk:- Erik is mine, Darcy is yours (and I don't think many other people would pick up on that double meaning). Next years going to be a riot. See you at graduation. Thank you!

Thanks again everyone.

Fair warning: I'm not exactly sure if I like how this chapter turned out...it's kind of strange to me, like awkward strange but I can't think of how to fix it.

Hope you like it anyway. :)

Now to the Giry household...

Danielle Giry's hand shook as she brought the cup of tea to her lips. She set the dish down; it clattered gently on the china saucer but Mme Giry's focus was elsewhere.

"Maman? Have you been listening to anything I've said?" Meg placed her hand on her mother's shoulder concernedly. "You've been acting strangely all morning. Please, tell me what's wrong."

Mme Giry blinked and looked upon her daughter's worried face.

"Did something happen last night?"

"Hmmm? Last night?"

"Yes, Maman. What's wrong? What happened?"

Mme Giry closed her eyes. She could still see the menacing gaze of Erik's "friend" as he suspended her in the air. She could still hear the threat in his voice. She could still remember the chills that washed over her bones as she saw his tell-tale smile.

"Nothing's wrong, my dear. I was just thinking."

"We'll you've been 'thinking' like a zombie for the past few hours. You look as if you've seen a ghost. The Baron was hoping to visit today. Shall I tell him you are indisposed?"

Mme Giry smiled warmly. "That's alright, Meg. I should learn more of this man to see if he is worthy of my daughter."

"Maman!" Meg blushed prettily. "Nothing's official."

Mme Giry would miss no opportunity to tease her daughter: "How could he not be besotted with my sweet little Meg?"

"Maman!" Meg protested again.

They were interrupted by a light knock on the door and their servant bowed. "Madame, the post has just arrived."

"Thank you, Renald, you may go." He bowed again before leaving his mistresses to their discussion. Mme Giry glanced through the letters in her hand. One a notice of little value, another she smirked as she recognized the Baron's handwriting and handed it to her daughter who accepted it eagerly. The third was what caught her attention: it was written in red ink and in handwriting she recognized instantly.

Meg excused herself to swoon over her letter in private and Mme Giry was thankful to be alone.

Her hand shaking again, she broke the seal:

Danielle,

I apologize for Philippe's behavior. I assure you he will never harm you again, on this you have my word. Furthermore, I thank you for your concern and daring to bring food to this dark, forgotten cellar for some time now.

However if you still desire some form of explanation, stop by this afternoon and perhaps you will find some answers. I believe Philippe will be preoccupied with a project for quite some time now so you have no need to fear him.

My old friend, I would advise you to be careful and not visit my home unannounced; I cannot assure your complete safety if I am not present.

There was no signature but the correspondence couldn't be mistaken for any other. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner and rose from her chair. Mme Giry was almost to the door as it swung open and Renald announced Christine's arrival.

Sighing, she chided herself; how could she forget? Nonetheless, she eagerly welcomed Christine into the parlor, hastily stuffing the letter in her pocket.

"Have I caught you at a bad time, Madame Giry?"

"No not at all. You are always welcome here, Christine."

Meg burst into the room. "Maman, the Baron writes he cannot visit today but he'd like to make it up to us by taking us to Rome!"

"Calm yourself, Meg!" her mother chided cheerfully.

The excited Meg noticed their visitor and rushed to greet Christine. Once she was free from the embrace, Christine asked, "Who is the Baron?"

Meg blushed sweetly as she turned to address her friend. "A dear friend."

"A suitor, unless I miss my guess." Christine glanced at Mme Giry who nodded.

Meg continued: "He is the kindest man I've ever met. And so accomplished."

"He's rather handsome, too," Mme Giry added with a sly grin to her daughter whose face flushed again.

Christine laughed lightly at the exchange, "I should like to meet this amazing gentleman."

"Oh you must, Christine," Meg insisted. "I shall ask if you can join us on our trip to Rome. I'll write him directly." Before Christine could object, Meg darted up the stairs to respond to her letter.

Mme Giry sighed. "Being in love has done nothing to calm her spirit."

"I'm so happy for her." Christine smiled brightly but the luster dimmed as she recalled what she had intended to discuss. Mme Giry hadn't noticed, too caught in her own dreaded musings.

"I had quite an exciting evening last night. I was hoping to confide in someone."

"Exciting? What do you mean by that, Christine?" Mme Giry's immediately noticed her tone and readily accepted the task for her surrogate daughter. "Tell me what has happened, my child."

Christine wrung her hands gently. "It all happened so fast. I was taking a shortcut back to the inn and this man came up from behind and attacked me…"

∞†∞

Erik looked up from his book as Madame Giry walked out of the shadows.

"Hello Danielle."

"What have you done?"

Although slightly surprised by her direct, curt tone, Erik replied lazily, "To what exactly are you referring to? My choice of society?"

"Don't play games with me, Erik." Mme Giry paced, flustered and irritated, in front of the fire while Erik watched her. After seeing that he was not intending to respond, she abruptly turned and met his gaze. "I had a visit with Christine today."

Erik blinked but otherwise showed no other reaction. "Oh. That."

"That's all you have to say? You could have killed her!"

"It was an accident."

"I don't consider chewing on someone's neck an accident, Erik."

"Careful, Madame. Do not push my patience much further."

She clamped her mouth shut, well aware of the danger in Erik's voice, yet her anger could not be docked for long. "Well thankfully she's alright, though shaken. She's not sure what to believe." Mme Giry sat down heavily on a cushioned chair and sighed. "Christine heard your voice, the voice of her angel, but felt the touch of the devil. She knows it was your voice and asked me again if you were dead. And I honestly didn't know what to tell her. Are you?"

Erik took a moment to consider her question. "I'm not sure. I'm not really sure of much anything anymore. The rules keep changing."

"Erik, how did you get caught up in this?"

"I had nothing to lose."

"But why, Erik? You're killing innocent people and—"

"I've never denied being a murderer."

"Be that as it may, why Erik?"

A voice rang from the other room, "You'll find that vampires can be truly seductive and I won't deny that Erik's case was…unique."

Mme Giry froze. "Is he here?"

Erik bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. "In a manner of speaking." He seized Mme Giry's hand and led her through a few dank corridors to Christine's old room.

There sat Philippe, still on the wrong side of the mirror, on the floor's reflection, legs stretched out in front of him and his back leaning against the golden frame. He was absently picking at invisible dirt from behind his nails as they walked in.

Mme Giry stared, speechless. She regained her voice a moment later, "His project, I believe?"

"Oh, ha, ha," Philippe rolled his eyes.

"What was that you said earlier?" Erik asked.

"Hmmm?"

"About my case being unique?"

"Oh, that. Well, vampires are very skilled at imposing their will upon others but we never use such methods for recruitment. I mean this is something you have eternity to deal with, who wants to be forced into it? No, we like willing members. The Circle was worried that we wouldn't reach you in time so I was allowed a little bit if necessary, though the decision was mostly yours anyway."

"In time?"

"Yes, in time. Did you know you were dying, Erik?"

Mme Giry, forgotten from the conversation for the moment, stared at Erik who lowered his head in thought.

"I had my suspicions but it didn't matter."

"The Circle has a few ties with some clairvoyants. We always like to check our members before officially inviting them regardless of the pull; it's also best to avoid situations where you could easily be spotted. In another three days, you would have died, heart attack; it was just heredity and bad luck, I'm afraid. You didn't have a month to make your choice, as is customary. And again, you made most of the decision yourself."

Erik brooded; the Phantom of the Opera would be forced into nothing.

Seeing he was unconvinced, Philippe continued, "Plus, Erik, there's always revenge to be had. Or perhaps you could win back your lady love?"

"Be grateful you're on that side of the mirror, Philippe. I would have no scruples in throwing you out on such a lovely, sunny afternoon." Erik grinned cynically, his mask adding to his caustic tone.

"Ouch. And I thought we were friends," Philippe replied in mock hurt. Taking an opportunity change the subject, Philippe called out, "Oy, who's there?"

Mme Giry tentatively took a few steps forward.

"Ah, yes. I remember you. Erik informs me I am not to touch you. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Philippe de Chagny."

She jolted slightly, registering the name, but regained her authoritative air. "Madame Giry," was all her reply, all that was necessary. Instinctively, she reached out her hand to the stranger, which Philippe took and shook it readily rather than kissing the back of her hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Madame. Well would you look at that?" Philippe grinned down to his hand jutting out from the surface of the mirror.

Dropping his hand as if it were a hot iron, Mme Giry gasped and stepped back, knowing Erik was better protection than none at all.

Erik stood with his arms crossed over his chest, arching an eyebrow at Philippe. "Must you insist on frightening my guest?"

"If a simple handshake is that terrifying, I fear anything else would give her a stroke." After straitening his cravat, he swept into an elegant bow. "My apologies, Madame. Erik informs me that we have nothing to fear from you as long as I remain civil."

Mme Giry's eyebrows rose slightly, "Fear from me? What could I do?"

"Best not go into it then, wouldn't want to give any ideas." Philippe winked and walked out of the room, glad to stretch his legs again. She shied away from him as he passed.

Erik gave a light chuckle and Mme Giry glared up at him. "What is it that you find amusing?"

"I once thought that if I didn't scare you, nothing would."

She rolled her eyes and sat down on Christine's bed. "I still don't understand how you got caught up in this mess."

Erik smiled so she could see his menacing teeth. "What's there to understand? What's done is done."

Philippe's voice rang out from the other room. "I forgot to thank you for the wine you brought last time. Thank you, Madame."

She stammered out a reply before turning back to Erik with another scrutinizing glance. "I don't know what you have done to yourself, Erik. I pray that it can be reversed but I will not see you drag Christine into this. I will not have it, do you hear me?"

Erik merely returned her acid gaze with a cold glint in his icy eyes.

"I will do what is necessary to protect her."

"Now Madame, I had quite a time convincing Philippe we could trust you. Neither of us will stand for betrayal, you can be sure of that." Erik's other thoughts, he left unsaid: he could never condemn Christine to his company again, she had made her choice, rejecting and scarring him, and with all the strength in him, he would do nothing against the Fop.

Mme Giry nodded her head lightly, perceptive to the turmoil past the indecipherable face. "I will do nothing unless you drive me to it. Your secret is safe, all your secrets."

Mme Giry placed her hand on Erik's arm and he nodded lightly, accepting her promise. She rose to leave, the dankness of the air and the morbidity of the reality around her seeping into her bones.

Erik called after her: "How long will she be in town before she returns to her-her husband?"

"Her fiancé you mean. Oh, I believe she will stay for another week or so."

"Her fiancé?"

"Yes."

"They are not married?"

"Evidently not," she replied cautiously, silently willing him not to form any ideas.

Erik sat back, not sure what to make of the news. Mme Giry scrutinized his face for any hint of his thoughts, the revealed side of his face as unreadable as the pure white mask. Knowing better than to ask, she left the room.

Philippe spoke up from his book as she walked by, "Be careful, Madame. There are dangerous men out." He grinned and she shivered at the sight of his teeth.

As she walked back toward the surface, the light echoes of a soft melody drifted behind her.

∞†∞

Yeah, there you have it; I still think it's kind of awkward but I'm sure I'll find out if it's really there or if it's just me. Haaa still thinking of Philippe stuck in the mirror... :)

And as always, Love it or hate it, please let me know! (good, bad, and ugly)

Hope all's well on your side of the internet.