Disclaimer: Like I said, no mafia, money, rewards or any of the sort. And I don't own nothin'.
A/N: HOLIDAYS! WOOO!
Chapter 8
Out in the open once more, the twilight gently enveloping them, the pair stole silently through the rubble of the Opera House.
When Leah's bare feet touched the even cobbles of the Parisian street, Erik's hand shot up to stop her.
He whistled shortly at a passing cab, the two white horses clattering to a stop with the jingle of harness and metal.
Erik held out a steady and impossibly strong hand to help Leah in, closed the door, then barked a direction at the driver.
Leah sat wordlessly and almost unmoving in the seat beside Erik.
She clutched at black cloak for warmth in the coming darkness.
Erik had said nothing to her, except that they were going out and to take a cloak.
This time, he had not taken the black gondola across the murky waters of the lake.
He had taken her small hand in his gloved one, lifted back the heavy red and gold tasselled cover of the smashed mirror, and led her into darkness.
As her eyes grew accustom to the gloom, she could make out a long rough passage hewn straight into rock.
At the sides of the corridor were doorways, some open, some doors shut and dusty.
"Even you, Mon Ange, may not know some of the secrets of the Phantom of the Opera…" Erik said quietly, his voice having a strange ambience in the dark.
Some of the rooms that Leah could see into appeared to be just store rooms, with boxes, crates and sacks of an assortment of items, of food to ropes.
They then passed something that looked remotely like a modern bathroom, and Leah smiled.
Even The Phantom could not hold on forever.
At last, Erik stopped next to a single candelabrum, and turned a handle in the seemingly solid rock wall.
A door swung open to admit them to the dusk of Paris.
Leah smiled at the memories, pushed back the curtain of their carriage, and looked out onto the black waters of a wide river.
Erik leaned across her, and slowly closed the blind.
"It is a surprise, Angel, and after our first attempt at crossing the city…" Here Erik faltered slightly, looking at Leah's bandaged left arm, "I thought it best that we skirt the it."
Leah noticed the cab driver throwing a few furtive glances back through the little window into the carriage in Erik's direction.
He had no doubt been driver to many young lovers, and from time to time had his own private peep show.
The Phantom followed her eye line, and scowled as best he could with half his face visible, and considering the restrictiveness of the mask, Leah thought this was frighteningly well.
It seemed that for the first time, the driver saw the glowing white mask, and in a few gabbled words of French, he betrayed his fear.
He slapped the horses' backs with the reigns, and hunched in his seat.
Leah giggled, and went to put her head on Erik's shoulder, but with her neck cocked at an awkward angel, stopped.
"Leah?" Erik looked at her questioningly.
Leah shook her head dismissively, and leant on her elbow on the armrest.
How comfortable was Erik with reasonably intimate contact? And how intimate was their relationship?
Leah had openly confessed love for Erik, but did he feel the same? Their association in Leah's time would definitely be considered boyfriend/girlfriend, but in the 19th century?
They were probably just close friends.
There was a whinny from one of the horses and the coach jerked to a halt, and Erik got up.
He was bent almost double inside the carriage, and as he went to open the door, Leah also rose.
He placed a staying hand on her shoulder, and told her he would be back soon, and in no circumstance could she peek through the curtains… unless it was an emergency.
He stepped to the ground and she heard him say something to the cab driver which sounded like a berating comment.
She smiled, and waited impatiently for Erik to return. She fiddled with the lacy beaded lining of her seat, and accidentally ripped it out of the cushion.
She nervously shoved it back in as Erik (quietly) reappeared at the door.
Erik sat down and handed her a warm paper bag that smelled delicious, and whistled to the cabby.
Again, they swayed off into the night with a bump.
"Eat; it has been a long time since our last meal." Erik watched as she took a bite of the vegetable filled pastry.
It was like a pasty, and Leah was ever conscious of the scrutinising gaze.
Erik did not mean the gaze to be threatening, she knew, but with his piercing green eyes and dark brows it was hard for him not to look intense.
For a last time, the carriage bumped to a stop, and Erik got up and out.
Leah stuffed the bag her pasty had come in behind the seat, and took Erik's inviting hand.
She lifted the hem of her dress as she stepped onto the cobbles. She looked up at her surroundings, and noticed they were on a massive stone bridge.
Her intake of breath was audible, and Erik smiled.
He payed the driver as Leah rubbed one of the two white horses' heads under their harnesses, still admiring the view of the wide river.
Erik took Leah's hand and led her across the bridge to a thick stone railing as the horses jangled into the night.
"Oh, Erik… It's beautiful…" Leah sighed as she leant on the stone surface and looked out onto the river.
It extended to the horizon, as far as she could see, skirted by houses right up to the waterfront on each side.
Lamplights dotted the houses and streets along the water, and the soft sounds of a busy city met their ears.
Leah hopped up onto the balustrade to sit with her legs dangling to the water.
It was a long drop, and Leah almost fell as she settled. Erik made to grab for the back of her dress, but Leah waved him away, saying, "It's the ditz in me coming out, I'm alright."
Then she began to laugh uncontrollably. At herself, at Erik's serious look, at the world.
She choked down her laughter to blurt, "Erik, you didn't lace that pastry did you?" She smiled widely; she had never felt so happy… She felt almost… floaty she was so untroubled.
"I assure you Mademoiselle, I did not such thing! Mayhap someone else did?" He mocked a hurt look, but did not pull it off with the tilt of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Can I inquire as to the outburst?"
"Oh, Erik, it's nothing. Actually, no, I lie, it's me, it's you… I'm just happy."
Erik raised an eyebrow at her and looked out onto the water. "Welcome to the Seine, Leah. It is wonderful, is it not?"
Leah nodded in agreement, but she knew this was not all they had come to this exceptional, quiet spot. "Erik, what is it? You wanted to talk to me about something. I know it."
Erik had wanted to tell her how much he loved her, out here on the water, but his courage had failed him. He did not want to scare her off for all the world.
"There is nothing…" Erik sighed, "I just wanted to share this view with you. I have only ever seen it in darkness. That is how I know most of Paris… In darkness."
Water lapped at the stone pillars of the bridge, and Erik continued. "Leah do you remember the times you were alone, and you felt someone -or something- watching you?"
Leah nodded. "Yes, sometimes. I always imagined and told myself it was you…"
"You were right. Like the time you were at your mother's bedside in the hospital, it was about… Six months ago… She was very ill… And you looked to the ceiling, hearing something. It was me…"
Leah nodded, she remembered. Strangely enough, it did not bother her that Erik had been 'stalking' her for some time.
He had probably shared in some of her most intimate moments, yet she found she didn't care. She was almost… comforted by the fact.
"And the music in the middle of the nights? You too?" This time it was Erik's turn to nod. "My father swore I was a mental case… And for a time, I believed him."
"Leah… I'm so sorry…" Leah cut him off; telling him this was not night for miserable thoughts or laments.
She watched a shadow wend its way through the dark water, and began to hum "All Star" by Smashmouth.
Erik caught the jarring melody, and had to ask. "Leah what was that?"
Leah proceeded to sing him the chorus (badly) and explain it was a pop tune from her time.
Erik then thought for a moment, and he belted out the chorus she had just reiterated to him in full operatic glory.
Leah laughed again; it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
"Erik, I…" Leah never finished her sentence.
She felt Erik trail his slender fingers down her arm, leaving her skin tingling and her brain humming.
Was this his first move? Leah swirled on the balustrade so she was facing Erik, and she looked up at him with honest love in her eyes.
She reached up and drew his masked face close to hers, and Erik did not protest.
Moving gently, slowly, she raised a hand to remove his mask, but Erik pulled away.
Leah sighed, and placed a light but tender kiss on his forehead. Her lips met half ice-cold mask, half warm skin.
She felt Erik quiver under her lips, and she pulled away slowly to look him in the eye.
She noticed Erik's mouth slightly open, and he would not meet her gaze.
The last woman that had kissed him… Like Leah had done… Was Christine… Erik looked at the shining cobbles of the street and pushed the thoughts away.
"I am not scared of what is under the mask." Leah stated simply. "I would love you just the same."
Erik sighed, and leaned in to kiss her. It was a fervent kiss, and Leah could taste her Angel. Her body burned in response, and as their lips were locked, she reached up to the mask, and slowly pulled it away.
Erik had been expecting this, and withdrew from the embrace, awaiting the scream of horror, or the expression of shock.
Leah looked upon the face of the Erik she had seen so many times on the big screen, and broke into a smile, yet the emotion of the night overwhelmed her and she had to look away.
"See?" Erik cried, rasing his voice. "This is the face that haunted the Opera and scared the Ballet Rats!" Erik's intense eyes blazed, his 'deformity'; in truth just welted and bumpy skin.
His drooped eyelid made him look sad, but not frightening.
"No Erik, no… I just… It's just… Tonight." She pulled him close, kissing his burned-looking skin, and kissed it, all over, fluttering over it with her eyelashes.
Erik shuddered at her touch, and fought down stronger response his body was giving him.
"Have I convinced you?" She asked, smiling her temptresses smile, still excruciatingly close to him.
"Yes… I believe you have." Erik smiled lopsidedly at her, and replaced his mask gently. "Shall we?" He asked, offering Leah his arm.
Leah giggled and took it, leaning into him and admiring the full moon through the lacy clouds.
Half way back to the Opera House, (skirting the marketplace) They climbed into another cab, and got out a few streets before the Opera, for what man in his right mind would take his date to a burn out building?
They walked the last few blocks in almost silence, it seemed everyone had finally gone to bed, and Erik's footsteps made no sound.
If Leah had not been super-conscious of the arm through her own, she could have sworn she was walking alone.
When at last the one remanning wall of the Opera was in view., Leah at last felt lethargy grow inside her. It had been a long and eventful night.
Wandering through the empty streets, suddenly cries of passion from a second level window broke the quiet chirruping of crickets.
The woman was expressing her pleasure loudly, and Erik blushed. He had clearly never been to a High School… Leah rolled her eyes remembering the Jock's Locker Rooms off of the gym…
As she stumbled around the last corner, by this time half-carried by Erik, She could hear voices. She passed them off as early-morning workers, but Erik, ever the alert one, knew better.
He pulled her against himself, hastily hid in a dark corner, and draped his cape over her head. In the dark corner of a café front, they were invisible.
"Erik!" Leah exclaimed in a strained whisper, choking on the light fabric.
He hushed her and listened to the hurried conversation of the men that were apparently crunching through the rubble of the Opera House.
The French to her was muffled, but Erik quickly translated the important parts of the discussion.
"They are Government workers… One is an Architect and Designer… The other appears to be… An assistant to the Prime Minister?" He said this with a note of incredulity in his voice.
In answer to her unasked question he elaborated, "I have only ever hear of two of those people… They work on only the most important projects…"
He waited again, with Leah gasping for breath under his black cape. "The council want to begin a new project…" He stopped here suddenly, and emitted a strangled sort of sound, "The say the skeleton of the Opera House has stood untouched for long enough as a monument to those who died in the fire… They say it would be a crime to waste such prime real-estate in such a prestigious area of Paris. It appears they want to gut the building, including the five levels of cellar, and build an entirely new entertainment centre… Including a Theatre for Operatic Performances… Among other things…"
"Urg!" Leah mumbled, clawing at Erik's cape for air. He let her head into the night, and she gulped in its gloomy coolness, before she was once again submerged into darkness.
"Work will start soon… The project will be kept a secret from the whole of Paris…" At this Erik scoffed. "They wish to keep a project of this size a secret? It will be secret for no longer than four weeks with the gossip in Paris…"
Leah heard more garbled French, this time from a different mouth.
"The Architect says he has the design ready… A much better one than the enterprise of Charles Garnier, he says. He says work can begin immediately or as soon as the Minister can give him clearance…"
Silence reigned for a few moments, as Leah assumed the men were shaking hands and going their separate ways.
Then Erik flattened himself even more against the stonework of the shop front, squashing Leah flat as one of the men walked past.
She saw a faint glow as the man lit up a cigar, and it faded into the dim distance of the street.
Erik's pressure let up, and Leah could breath as he removed his cape from her head.
He had a numb expression on his face as he watched the site of the Paris Opera with dismayed disbelief.
"Erik? Are you alright?" She asked timidly in the next few still seconds.
"They want to rebuild… And ruin my home…" He said quietly.
"But you can make a new home! In the new cellars of the new Opera!"
"It is an 'Entertainment Centre', The Assistant expressly emphasized that." He took a deep breath, "And there will be no cellars… It has been requested by an anonymous Aristocrat that there be no cellars…"
"Three guesses who it was…" Leah murmured.
"It was stated they were a 'Death Trap' and that they served no purpose…"
"My God… I'm so sorry…" Leah said, "How long do you have?"
"At the best a week…" Erik began to stride purposefully toward the concealed trapdoor, and on his way, picked up a large piece of debris, and threw it forcefully at the nearest window.
The glass shattered with a loud tinkle, Erik clearly fuming.
He opened the trapdoor, and let Leah in, climbing into the almost-darkness after her.
A/N: Oooo! Will Erik and Leah be able to save the Opera House? Tune in next time to find out! In the mean time, review my Minions! Review! .:Evil laugh:.