Disclaimer: Don't own POTO
A/N: (Sock Army: The socks go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah…) Ah, the glory of absolute control. Okay, I know this update took longer than usual. I need to let y'all know that updates are gonna really slow down until May 5. I know I've threatened you like this before, but I really mean it this time. If I don't get a hold of myself and focus on schoolwork, more than the socks will hit the fan.
Also, there's some new characters mentioned briefly in here that will become very important later on. The girl named Cecily is based on Lady Brandybuck of the Shire. This is only b/c I know her personally and b/c she got me the 1925 POTO on DVD.
LiTTleLoTTe1991: Yes, Erik…or another version of him (hint, hint). I once read than squirrels are plotting world domination and therefore, must be wiped off the face of the earth. (eyes cute, bushy-tailed disease transporter w/ suspicion).
Sabrin: I wonder what kind of Jedi Erik would make. (Yoda slaps Misty upside head) Ouch…I'm glad you enjoyed the insanity.
Juliana: I have close affinity w/ Montana, but I shan't say more than that.
Solecito: I have stripedy toe socks! More Gerry involvement is coming, I assure you.
Son Ange: Glad you enjoyed.
kristinekat13: Actually, Christine is upset b/c she wants to use the love Erik and Raoul have for her to attain her material goals (fame and riches).
SimplyElymas: Do you're friends imitate that spin that Luke Skywalker does when they lightsaber fight?
Songwind: (Sock patrol salutes reviewer)
xxXGoddessxofxdeadxloveXxx: I'm making a beeline for Wal-Mart when it comes out cuz they don't charge as much. Did you know that Wal-Mart trucks are good luck?
IndiaPyro: As some very brilliant once wrote "Behold the power of fiction." (Misty bows to Random-Battlecry)
Tian Sirki: I understand perfectly.
OneWhoWalksWithPigeons: The Ballpoint Pen of Doom? I like that.
Willow Rose: Yes, I know…actually I was soooooo nervous that nobody would like or even get my sense of humor, but what do you know?
Joeela Alinn: I hope so, too. ; - )
TheGreatSporkWielder: You have a cool username, too!
Master Darth Warious: Sounds like you two have an interesting relationship. Luke Skywalker is married to one of my alteregos. (Squee!)
Phantress: She found the DVD at a place in our town called DVD Planet. Tis a very cool place. Oh, good, I am forgiven then…I felt sooo bad about that.
Ridel: I know, I think I need to let Anna and Brooke vent on those two for a while.
Erik for President: Sorry for neglecting you. Hmmm, I don't think a cameo will be possible at the time. Like I said at the top of the page, Lady Brandybuck of the Shire gets her own character for a few practical reasons. But I gladly accept the use of the Official Buffalo Bills linebacker socks. (Places socks at the front line of defense…Misty: You are to bid all stand in my name! Buffalo Bill Sock #1: How if they will not stand? Misty: Then take no note of them, but let them go.)
Baby-Vixen: EEEEW! Fuzzy cabbage?
Typewritter 15: Don't die! Here it is.
Erik's Girlfriend: Thank you! I'll pass the compliment along to Anna some time. I appreciate your encouragement.
LostS: Me, too. (slumps in chair w/ relief)
MoonDancerCat: People are weird, I'll give you that.
Pleading Eyes: Sorry if I have fallen from your updating idol pedestal. Life is what it is. Please don't stop waving the Misty flag. (beams proudly) But… EEK! I don't want Raoul's brain! (gasp) I know what happened to it…have you ever seen Young Frankenstein when Igor picks up the brain belonging to Abby Normal? That's where the little fop's brain went!
easternelvenlady: Sounds like fun! Any excuse to talk about POTO.
Phantom of the SteelWolf: Welcome aboard and thank you for your enthusiasm!
Lady Brandybuck of the Shire: Happy now?
XXXXXXXXXXXX
BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM
Anna was still picking sock lint from her person when she stormed into the courtyard of the Seaside Inn. Lost in the frustrated musings of her mind, the redhead collided head on with her own cousin. Stepping back, Anna observed a very linty Brooke.
"Did you rebel, too?" Anna growled.
"Yes…men are jerks," replied the other with contempt, swiping at the fluff clinging to her clothes.
"What happened?"
Brooke related to Anna the entire incident involving Raoul and Christine. At the end of the tirade, Anna comforted her best friend by calling the Vicomte a jerk and a fop, as well as few other choice names of a more colorful nature.
"Where are they now?" she asked.
"Still in the garden. I think he's down on his knees begging for forgiveness. When that doesn't work, he may resort to licking her shoes." The brunette made a gagging noise. "Where is Erik?"
"He's somewhere back there," Anna said jerking her head in the direction of the forest. Peering, Brooke could see the lithe black form striding through the fields.
"What happened between you two?" she asked. Anna explained.
"Humph…jerk."
"No kidding."
Erik could not for the life of him understand Anna's rude behavior. It enraged him quite frankly. It might have been presumptuous of him to take her away from her companions, but that was not sufficient reason in his mind for her to leave in such a dreadful huff. He could see the impertinent girl and her cousin in the courtyard, watching him approach. Why were they covered in fluffs of lint? His fury increased, though he hardly knew why. (Something infuriating about lint I suppose). His boiling temper was checked, however, before he reached the courtyard.
The Angel of Music's Christine-sensitive ears perceived the soprano's not-so-dainty sobs racking through the calm atmosphere around the garden. Halting his lengthy stride, Erik paused to listen, his masked head tilted to the side. Yes, it was Christine. What on earth could be making his angel cry? Forgetting his anger at Anna, he stole into the garden, stealthy as a shadow, silent as a grave.
"Did you see that?" Anna hissed. Her tone was livid, but a hint of rising hysterics quivered beneath her anger. "Off to find his precious Christine."
"I don't care if he punjabs Raoul on the spot," Brooke spat irritably. All at once they became uncomfortably aware that they were drawing the stares of quite a number of curious, young vacationers.
"I think…I need some chocolate ice cream," Brooke whispered. Their fury subsiding, the girls felt themselves teetering precariously between self-control and all-out feminine hysteria. Sniffling quietly, tears welling in their eyes, they ducked their heads and hurried inside the inn and up to their rooms.
A tall, slender girl with raven black hair remarked to her party, "It seems that they have had some bad luck with their suitors."
Annette, who was amongst those addressed, replied, "I can't imagine it being so in Anna's case. That gentleman with the mask who disappeared into the garden is their brother. Perhaps they had a row. But the Vicomte undoubtedly behaved very badly towards Mlle. Brooke."
"They ought to find ample comfort in that handsome beau of theirs," the black-haired girl said. The ladies giggled knowingly and the gentlemen with them smirked into their hands.
The black-haired girl continued, "I cannot hold Mlle. Anna in contempt for her behavior. I know what it is to be frustrated by one's siblings." She shot a cold glance up at two young men standing behind her.
"Surely brothers as amiable as yours, Cecily, could not give you much trouble," another girl teased lightly, smiling shyly at the two young men.
Cecily arched her fine brows, "Dominic and Jacques are forever underfoot. My foot to be precise."
"Yes, Dom and I are in constant need of supervision, eh, Dom?" Jacques guffawed in a low, slow voice. His twin brother chuckled. Cecily rolled her brown eyes.
"The Leroux family is a most curious bunch," Madam de Pouf announced from her bench in the shade of the pink eaves. She was obviously impatient to discuss the fascinating behavior of the phamily.
"M. Leroux hardly ever comes out and not once has he joined us for dinner in the common room," Annette said. "Though he is evidently devoted to his sisters. You should have seen him shower them with presents their first day here."
"That M. Gerard is almost as much of a recluse as M. Leroux," Dominic remarked as though this was breaking news to everyone assembled there.
"That is a pity," one girl said sadly. The majority of the female participants nodded in agreement, whispering to each other of M. Gerard's fine figure and burning eyes.
Ever the observant one, Cecily said, "Then there are those masks." The chattering group fell silent. They eyed her suspiciously though they all knew that she had merely had the guts to voice what they were all secretly contemplating.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Gerry was jarred from his nap by a few slamming doors and decidedly girlish sobs. Rolling over on to his stomach, he raised his tousled head to peer at the window. The fading red light bleeding through the lace curtains told him that night—his favorite hours—was fast approaching. The sobbing cut into his mind again. Growling like a panther, he rose from bed and went to see what was the matter.
Gerry found Anna and Brooke crying their eyes out on their bed, both girls still spotted with sock lint.
"What happened?" he asked. The girls jumped up at the sound of his voice, hurriedly wiping away their tears in embarrassment. When at last they turned to face their beau, their moods were considerably lightened.
Gerry's tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway. His black hair was a mess, still damp from his bath and mused from his nap. His white shirt was opened to his waist and to their ultimate delight he was wearing the Don Juan pants. The cousins began to feel better.
"Still waiting for an answer," the Phantom said testily. Anna shook herself out of her phangirl daydreams.
"Erik and Raoul are being jerks, that's all. Both of them ditched us for Christine. Falling all over her and being generally stupid," she snuffled.
Gerry groaned irritably. Leave it to those two morons to ruin everything. "Where are they now?"
"Probably still in the garden," Brooke answered him. "That is if Erik hasn't punjabbed that rotten little fop yet."
Gerry strode determinedly over to the bedroom window that faced the branches of the conveniently placed oak tree. Poking his head out into the cool evening air, Gerry whistled a little tune that sounded as though if were meant to be a secret call.
Anna cocked her head to one side and frowned as she tried to figure out where she had heard that tune before. Suddenly, it came to her. "Hey! That's the theme from Jeopardy!"
"How does Gerry know what Jeopardy! is?" Brooke asked.
Meanwhile, Gerry was listening intently for an answer to his call. He got it when an impish face topped with straw like hair popped up, directly in front of his face. Gerry jerked back, hissing like a snake.
"Ye called?" Pip chirped, biting into a crisp apple.
"Yes," Gerry said through gritted teeth. "I want you to go and find out what is happening in the garden at the moment."
"Weel, as a matter a fact, I jus' cum frum there," Pip replied, spraying Gerry with flecks of apple.
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what is happening down there?"
"Oh, weel, it's a bit nasty, ye might say. The nobleman, one Miss Brooke's got 'er hart set on, is all but grovelin' in front o'that Miss Daaé, beggin' 'er forgiveness."
"What d'ye mean 'all but grovelin',' Pip? The man has no dignity left to 'is fam'ly name," called a sleepy voice from a few branches down. Gerry bent his sharp gaze down and saw the other half of the hobbity duo resting in the crook of a broad tree limb, hat pulled over his eyes in preparation for a nap. After heaving a roll of disgust, the Phantom's eyes returned to Pip's face.
"Ay, tis true. Poor man," Pip said shaking his head solemnly. Somewhere behind Gerry, Brooke snorted derisively.
"You were saying?" Gerry snarled impatiently. Pip continued after tossing the apple core to the ground and noisily cleaning his sticky fingers with his tongue. The roguish stable hand had no idea how close to being punjabbed he had come.
"Weel, then there's Mr. L—"
"Who is Mr. L?"
"Mr. Leroux. Anyways, he's creepin' about the shadows watching the two o'thems 'aving their row. Judgin' by 'is eyes, I'd say 'e was pretty livid."
"Is that all?"
"Think so. Is tha' all, Que?"
"Mm?"
"I said, is tha' all?"
"Yes, tis all."
Pip turned to repeat the answer to Gerry, but found that the Opera Ghost had withdrawn his head and shut the window. Shrugging to himself, the groom swung down the branches, as easily as a spider monkey, to wake his friend.
Gerry turned to regard the girls.
Brooke looked thoroughly peeved. "I don't know about you, bestest best friend, but I feel like vomiting."
"That makes two of us," Anna replied. Gerry took them seriously and sought to divert them from doing so, thus they settled down to an intense game of Star Wars monopoly.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Erik returned to the apartment an hour later. Stalking into the sitting room, he found his roommates hunched over the coffee table contemplating their various monopoly strategies. Suffice to say Gerry was winning. The girls took no note of Erik's entrance. This rather miffed him.
"I hear," he began, finally drawing their stern gazes to him, "that the little Vicomte is accused of being unfaithful to Christine."
There was a brief millisecond of silence before all hell broke loose. Brooke shot out of her chair, sending the game board flying. Little Courescant apartments and property cards and Republic credits soared in every direction. She stared at Erik with the most intense, tearful gaze she could muster. It was scary enough to send Gerry and Anna scooting backwards.
"ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF BEING A HOME-WRECKER?" she cried shrilly.
"I did not say that, Brooke."
"YES, YOU DID!"
"All I said was—"
"YOU THINK I'M A TRAMP…AND A GOLD-DIGGER, TOO, I BET!"
"Stop talking in capitalized italics!"
"I'LL TALK HOWEVER I WANT!" With that, Brooke burst into tears and ran into her bedroom. Erik stood rooted to the floor in shock. What was it with these crazy women?
Gerry growled at his counterpart, "Wonderful, just wonderful. I get them calmed down and then you have to come along an accuse a sweet, little lady like Brooke of being a home-wrecker."
Erik whirled on the Imposter, "That is not what I said!"
"You have no tact with women, my friend. None whatsoever."
"And you do?"
"Naturally," Gerry finished with an elegant bow before going to find Brooke. Erik seethed and fumed. Out of the corner of his glittering blue eyes, he saw something move. Spinning about on his heel, he came face-to-face with Anna. The redhead, who had been trying to steal into her bedroom unnoticed, froze in her tracks when Erik's icy voice hit her ears.
"Anna, a word, my dear."
She turned to stare at him defiantly. "What?"
"Why did you run off like that? It was extraordinarily rude of you."
"It was extraordinarily rude of you to bring up Christine during our conversation!" she retorted. He started at her words, but the full implications of them did not make it past his thick, knobby skull.
"Of all people, I should think a phangirl like you would understand my devotion to Christine."
Those words shot straight into Anna's heart, the shaft of the verbal arrow burrowing deep into her breast. She didn't bother hiding her tears as she fled from the room. Erik dismissed it with a flick of his wrist and stormed into his own room.
To her own chagrin, Anna discovered than snuggling against Gerry's warm, solid chest as he hummed in her ear was an infinitely better picker-upper than chocolate ice cream. Erik's right, she thought to herself as she listened to the steady heartbeat beneath her head. I'm nothing more than a silly phan, infatuated with the object of my fanaticism. I don't deserve his affection. A single tear slid down her cheek.
On the other side of the Scottish Phantom, Brooke was having similar mental conversations with herself. Perhaps there's nothing that can change the outcome of the story. Erik will end up alone and Raoul will get Christine. Who will get Gerry? What will happen to Anna and me? Just go back home and feel miserable I suppose.
Gerry was lost in his thoughts, too. This is not getting any easier as I had hoped. Evidently, that little soprano has a stronger hold over Erik and the fop than we suspected. Heaven only knows why. I don't know how we'll manage this when my time is up. I suppose I shall have to double my efforts and hope for the best. There is a bonfire on the beach tonight, perhaps that could serve some useful purposes.
Gerry shifted his shoulders, nudging the dozing girls from their dreams.
"My dears, do you intend to make an appearance at the bonfire tonight?"
Brooke looked at Anna. Gerry suspected that they communicated telepathically. He suspected correctly.
"I don't feel like going out and watching Raoul and Christine fawned over each other," the brunette said.
Anna stretched her arms and yawned. "I feel some violent urges coming on actually."
"That's nothing new," said Brooke.
"Yeah, but they're unusually strong tonight. Is it a special occasion or something?"
Gerry answered her, "It is the fourth of July. Is there anything special about that?"
The girls lit up, evil smirks playing across their features. Brooke began sniggering maniacally first. Anna joined her as their madness escalated further and further.
"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Summon the Poppins Bag, we've a special request, in honor of the holiday!" They leapt from the sofa and bounded across the room.
Gerry sensed that this did not bode well.