Disclaimer: I don't own POTO
Hi, everyone! Hate to disappoint, but Christine is not in the torture chamber. Sad, I know, but if I kill her now the phic is over. Anywho…
Aurora: Well, hello and welcome back! I have not see you here abouts in awhile, but I am glad it was due to some vacationing and not because you suddenly decided to stop reading.
Lady Brandybuck of the Shire: Hmm, speaking of Batman, I still need to see that new movie. The Bird is using me as an excuse to see it again, too bad she'll have to wait till she doesn't look like a balloon anymore.
Sol: It is sad, isn't it? Erik could have his own harem if he wanted if only he'd wake up and hear the catcalls. Ah, yes, the padded cell, hence why Erik asked if Brooke wished him to install padding on the walls as well. Mwahaha!
Pleading Eyes: You updated too! Yeah! Did I remember to review your newest episode? I can't recall, but I loved it.
Rinny Leonhart Rikku: So sorry this wasn't posted till Saturday!
Silvermasque: Suspense is over (snips cliff hanger rope)
Savvy the Pen-Nameless: My dear Rosencrantz, you should know that I prefer Skittles to M&M's (tosses 100 green Skittles at friend)
Nameless Waif: OMG! I love the part when Erik says, "The grasshopper jumps jolly high!" Only my copy doesn't say that. (pouts) But I love it! 'Tis actually my favorite part. But as to Erik neglecting to feed him self, I believe it just has to do with his lifestyle and quirky personality. I cannot remember if it was Leroux or Kay who established it.
OneWhoSitsWithTheTurtles: But life does not always serve us happy endings, my dear reader! However, I shall keep my eyes open for any alternative endings.
Music Angel no.24601: HA! That would be hilarious. That's the best guess yet…or at least the most creative. Er, comparing the respective couples to bunnies has some rather frightening implications.
OneWhoWalksWithPigeons: I am really looking forward to this party. I hope that Lizette and Hilaire shall be used to stand in for the donkey when the tail-pinning comes. And there are plenty of idiots for the torture chamber to swallow.
Alatariel Maris Telcontar: Thank you so much!
Tian Sirki: Oh, I'm so glad you got the email. If you've posted it please let me know. I'd love to be among your readership.
shibbydm: Hmm, "The Lion King" isn't a bad idea.
LenisVox: I felt so stupid. It suddenly occurred to me that you are the author of "A Stitch in Time" which is on my favorites list. Erik had a good laugh at my expense when I finally made the connection. (facepalm) Did you really have a dream about the Poppins Bag? That is so cool.
aragornnme: Oh, as to the quick update, I simply had the idea ready and I had the time, the latter being the most difficult to obtain.
Voldemort's Hikari: I think it's a rather comforting and fuzzy thought to have the cousins thinking of the house on the lake as their own home.
SimplyElymas: (Gasp!) How could I ever do that to the Gerry? (cuddles the Gerry) More Meg and Nadir shall be coming along.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A FEW CLOSE CALLS
Erik wasted no time in disarming the torture chamber and opening the door, which joined it with the Louis-Phillipe room. His heart thudded wildly as he thought the poor soul roasting inside might be Christine. But, he reasoned to himself, she does not know about the trap door on the floor of the third cellar. No one knows, but the daroga, the girls, and myself…unless…
Nadir rushed after Erik, crying out in panic, "Meg! Dear, Meg!"
"Meg?" Anna whispered to Brooke. "I think the daroga's been up to something."
Forgetting their fear and grinning wickedly, the girls slunk into the Louis-Phillipe room. They arrived just as Erik was venturing into the boiling atmosphere of the chamber to retrieve the body inside.
"Is it a woman?" Nadir squeaked. His hat was being twisted and bent out of shape in his hands as he peered into the now dark chamber. He couldn't imagine how Meg would have found the trap door between the flat and the backdrop for the Roi de Lahore, but what if she had gone looking for him? He would die if Erik came out bearing the dancer's little body in his arms.
Anna approached him silently from behind, so silently that he jumped with fright when she touched his elbow.
"Allah! Must you sneak up like that? You're as bad as Erik!" the Persian snapped in uncharacteristic irritability.
"Don't worry, M. Khan, Meg Giry is not in there. It is Joseph Buquet the chief stagehand," she said.
"How can you know who is in there? Please, don't serve me any riddles or tricks," Nadir growled. He did not mean to be so cross, but the thought of Meg being trapped in that wretched replica of the khanum's favorite torture devise was unbearable.
Erik reemerged from the chamber, carrying a heavy body, his deep-set eyes boring into the Persian. "I would ask you not to snap at either of my companions in such a way. For you see, she is absolutely right. It is Joseph Buquet."
Nadir nearly fainted with joy. He recovered himself and apologized to Anna who was looking supremely smug. They next turned their attention to the limp form of the chief stagehand, which Erik was laying upon the fainting couch in the Louis-Phillipe room. Joseph Buquet's body was drenched in sweat. He had removed his vest and tie and his shirt was unbuttoned, obviously in an attempt to lessen the heat of the chamber's jungle. His old, bearded face shone as red as the skin of an over-ripe tomato.
"Is he dead?" Brooke asked, hobbling to the head of the couch. Erik leaned over the inert body and pressed his cold, lean fingers against the man's neck. He waited for a moment, leaned further in, tilting his masked head to the side, and then straightened back up.
"No, he is alive, but his breathing is weak and his heartbeat labored. Anna, would you please fetch some cold water and a rag," the Phantom instructed. The redhead nodded and scurried away to do his bidding. When she returned, Erik tended to Buquet. The room fell into silence, with only the soft ticking of the mantle clock and the swish of the girls' robes to disturb it.
Nadir mumbled thanks to Allah for preserving Meg as he watched the Opera Ghost doctor the hapless stagehand with Brooke and Anna as his nurses. At last Buquet's breathing and heartbeat returned to normal and he slipped into a peaceful sleep, aided by a rag full of chloroform.
"Was that drug necessary?" the Persian asked as the phamily retreated from the sick bed.
Erik replied, "Yes, he needs to sleep soundly for his own good and for ours. We can't have him waking up to see the dear old Opera Ghost and his ladies standing beside him. Nor you, daroga."
As he spoke, Erik washed his hands in a clean bowl of water, the loose sleeves of his shirt rolled to his bony elbows, like a physician who has just completed a surgery. His back was to the Persian so that he could not see Erik's hands readying the Punjab lasso. All at once, the Ghost whirled on his friend, flinging the rope around his neck and jerking him close.
"You called out for Little Giry just a moment ago. Why? Why would you assume or even suspect that she would be anywhere near this place?" Erik roared in the Persian's swarthy face.
He only got a garbled murmur in reply, but the shah-in-shah's magician had no intention of loosening his deadly lasso.
"You brought her down here, didn't you? While we were gone? Was it just Little Giry or did you invite the rest of the corps de ballet, too?" Erik hissed.
The Persian clawed frantically at the rope, his eyes bulging as he struggled against the inhumanly strong Phantom. Nadir gurgled and choked and Erik continued to rant, slowly pulling the noose tighter. All might have been done for Erik's oldest friend, but a pair of slender arms throwing themselves about Erik's shoulders stayed the Phantom's murderous hand.
"Erik, don't! You'll only regret it," Anna said. At the height of his fury, Erik's burning eyes turned to the petite girl gently pressing his shoulders and, immediately, the burning was replaced by softened shame. The Persian was released. He staggered back, rubbing his throat and gasping for precious air. He stumbled against Brooke, who despite her own injury supported his shocked body.
Though she withdrew her arms, Anna remained beside Erik, like an angel sitting on his shoulder, biding him to do good and not evil. She knew what Nadir had done had put them in jeopardy, but she would not allow Erik to commit murder on her watch. He had done it before, she knew, but things were different now. The redhead pulled him to the bed and forced him to sit as Brooke helped Nadir to a chair before scurrying to join her comrades.
"I am sorry, Erik," Nadir finally managed to gasp. He hung his head, unable to really face the Phantom and the girls who flanked him.
"Apology accepted, but I'll have you know it for their sakes (indicating the cousins) alone that you are not dead at my feet," Erik snarled.
"You are such a gentleman, Erik," Brooke said lightly, "But, M. Khan, I must confess I had no idea you had a crush on Meg Giry."
The Persian's dark head shot up in surprise, "I beg your pardon. What do you mean by a 'crush'?"
"You know, when you like someone…of the opposite sex…in a more than friendly way," Anna explained.
Erik rolled his eyes, "You women and your gossip."
"Shush! We're digging for a confession here!"
Nadir smiled sheepishly. The toe of his boot dug into the carpet with unusual force. The girls harassed him for details, but the prudent Persian chief of police was reluctant to discuss his love life with the boisterous young women.
Meanwhile, Erik had inwardly decided, if you can't beat them, join them. And then proceeded to say, "Really, daroga, after putting the three of us at risk of discovery, you do owe an explanation for the amusing turn of events in your life."
Nadir narrowed his jade eyes at Erik, but only received the cold, blank stare of a mask in return.
"Very well. What is it that you want to know?"
The girls pounced on him like vultures, "Everything!"
"When did you start noticing her?"
"How long before you asked her out or talked to her?"
"How did you ask her out?"
"Why did you bring her down here?"
"Was it dinner and a stroll by the lake or maybe something else?"
"Please slow down! I'm almost preferring the Punjab lasso," Nadir sputtered. Erik chuckled manically, figuring this was punishment enough for the daroga's foolishness, and he had to admit to feeling somewhat curious about Nadir's 'crush' on Meg Giry.
"Just take them one at a time, daroga. Small doses work best with these two," Erik advised.
Nadir nodded and swallowed, "Yes, well, I have been attached to Mlle. Giry for some time now—"
"Why?" Brooke asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why did you grow attached to her? Sickening details, M. Khan. That's how we females like our gossip."
Nadir gritted his teeth, "She is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Naturally, I wanted to know more about her, so I had a double reason for lurking about the upper floors of the Opera House. The first reason, of course, being the need to keep an eye on Erik's ghostly activities."
"Interesting. Go on."
"I am somewhat awkward and reserved by nature. And Mlle. Giry is, more or less, the opposite. I found her brightness and flirtatious personality somewhat intimidating. She could easily snag the heart of some rich young Parisian."
"Aaaaaaaw! That's so sweet!" the girls cooed.
Erik snorted disdainfully, "Honestly, daroga, you were once the chief of police in Persia. How is it that a woman can unravel you so?"
Everyone slowly turned to stare at Erik.
He stared back. "What?"
Anna addressed the Persian, "Please proceed, M. Khan."
"Indeed, well, it took some time before I felt confident enough to address her. She knew who I was, of course. Anyway, I asked her to supper one night and she accepted."
"And this is where you brought her?" Erik asked.
"Yes…but she was blindfolded!"
This was definitely a face-meets-palm moment. Erik growled, "Dear daroga, what possessed you to bring a ballet rat to the one place she fears the most and with the added risk of my finding out about your treachery?"
Nadir shrugged, "The atmosphere, I suppose. Though that probably does not make much sense to you, Erik."
"Oh, it makes sense to us," the cousins chimed.
Erik disregarded it, oblivious, as usual, to his own sex appeal. "Well, I certainly hope you are satisfied. It was a stupid thing to do. If you were so keen to win over Little Giry, you could have simply mentioned something to me. I am well-acquainted with her mother, you know."
"I hadn't thought of that."
"Obviously. Now, have you two little monsters had enough 'sickening details'?" Erik turned to the cousins.
"No," Brooke replied, "But we have other resources."
Nadir's eyebrows arched in surprise and suspicion, "What do you mean?"
"If we told we'd have to kill you."
"Fair enough."
Erik walked to the fainting couch and inspected Joseph Buquet. "He is doing well, but we need to get him back to the surface."
Nadir stepped forward, anxious to make amends with Erik for his betrayal of their already tender trust, "I'll help you with him."
Erik let out a barking laugh, "You! Dear daroga, if I wanted to make enough racket to alert the entire opera house to my activities then I would, by all means, take you on this little excursion. However, I do wish to remain unseen and unheard so I shall be taking Anna with me. You can stay here with Brooke. Her swollen ankle will not allow her to accompany us."
Nadir spluttered indignantly, "But she's a woman!" He gestured to the self-satisfied redhead.
"And not above fifteen minutes ago she succeeded in making you jump out of your skin. I do have more than one pupil, you know, and the majority of them learn something other than music. Enough of this banter, Anna, my dear, if you would ready yourself?"
Anna happily scampered into Erik's bedroom. She felt an upsurge of pride at the thought that Erik trusted her more than the Persian. She crossed the large room to the troublesome purple tent that served as her 'bedchamber.' Beyond the mattresses, leaning against the wall, there was a chest of drawers and two cupboards, holding everything that belonged to her and Brooke.
She yanked open the top bureau drawer and rummaged about, digging deeper and deeper through piles of chemises and panties before locating the desired object. With a triumphant 'Aha!' she leapt back and bounced across the mattresses to the coat hooks secured to the perpendicular wall and snatched up her mini-phantom cloak. The item from the bureau drawer was lifted to her face and tied about her head. It was the Raven's masquerade mask, which she always wore when she went haunting.
She reemerged from the master bedroom five minutes later, having donned her glow-in-the-dark Phantom shirt (a souvenir from the night she had seen the ALW musical), a pair of jeans, and black converse, all enveloped by her cloak.
Nadir swore quietly as she floated into the sitting room. The girl had transformed into an Erika! This did not seem to faze anyone else in the room. Brooke grinned approval from her position on a plush sofa.
"Back to normal, huh?" she quipped.
"Oh, yes," Anna replied, adding a sinister chuckle for effect.
"What has he done to you?" Nadir cried in horror.
"I beg your pardon?" Erik said; his eyes glowing incredulously as he pulled on his own cloak of sexiness.
Anna stood tall (at five feet, two inches), her fists akimbo, and crowed, "Erik has nothing to do with this. I was perfectly demented prior to meeting the Opera Ghost."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A quarter of an hour later, Anna led the way through the upper cellars while Erik followed, the unconscious body of Joseph Buquet slung over one bony shoulder.
"Turn left," he whispered, throwing his voice beneath the hood of her cloak. Anna's petite form disappeared around the indicated bend, but returned not a half-second later, moving with panicked speed.
"Phantom, it's the rat-catcher! He's coming down the hall," she gasped.
"Did he see you?"
"No, I heard the rats."
"Come to me," Erik commanded. With his free arm he latched on to Anna's left wrist and pulled her into a little alcove in the wall. It was a rather tight fit. The girl was forced to flatten her self against Erik's chest. He drew his cloak over them, concealing them from the orange flame of the rat-catcher's lantern. The smell of lilies nearly overwhelmed her.
"Hold still," Erik hissed. Anna ceased her squirming. The chilling chatter of a herd of slimy rats reached their ears and grew steadily louder. At last, a shaft of light passed beneath the hem of the cloak, exposing Anna's shoes for a moment, and then it was gone and the chattering faded into the distance.
Erik hastily shoved Anna back into the cold corridor. She stumbled, but caught herself against the opposite wall.
"Nice! Really slick."
"Forgive me, my dear. I was getting claustrophobic."
They continued on their way.
"We'll have to go through Christine's dressing room mirror," Erik said. He whispered instructions to Anna, though she knew the way as well as he. She had gone up there so often to play tricks on Christine that she and Brooke could have walked up there blindfolded. Of course, Erik didn't know much about that. In any case, when they reached the mirror, after checking to make sure no one was on the other side, Erik quietly explained the mirror's counterweights so that Anna could open the mirror. She felt rather important, being allowed to know how to work his intricate inventions.
The mirror swung open.
"You know, you could be normal and just install a bookshelf with ridiculously large, leather-bound first editions that trigger the magic door when you push in the complete works of Percy Shelley," Anna muttered as they stepped through the threshold.
"If I were normal, I wouldn't be here," Erik returned dryly. He shifted Joseph Buquet to his other shoulder. "Check outside the door."
Anna felt complete revulsion at the sight of Christine's things laying about the little room. She glanced back at Erik. Judging by the softened expression in his eyes, his thoughts were running in the opposite direction from hers.
"Anna?"
"Huh? What?"
"Check. Outside. The. Door."
"Oh…right." She hurried to the door, which opened into a small hallway. It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon and rehearsals were still in progress so there were not many people wandering aimlessly about the opera's passageways. Anna beckoned Erik to follow her.
"Where exactly are we taking him?" she asked.
"To his proper station in the flies."
The climb to the top of the flies was a difficult one. Erik, usually lithe as a panther, swayed dangerously under the deadweight of Buquet's body. Anna did what she could to help him up the ropes. By some miracle they reached the top unseen, but were forced to take cover in the shadows when a few roughened stagehands shuffled into hearing range.
"Where is Buquet t'day?" one grumbled.
"Don't know. S'not like him to be slackin' on t'job. Got me worried," replied the other.
"Got us in jam, is wot it did. We had to send the new man to cover for 'im."
They were soon gone, but they left the hidden ghosts with the problem of distracting the 'new guy' from his post long enough to dispose of Joseph Buquet.
"I'll distract him, Phantom," Anna said, using his pseudonym just in case they were overheard.
"What if you get caught?" he answered. Was that worry in his eyes? How loverly.
"I do this all the time!"
"You are out of practice, my dear. We only returned today."
"Phantom, don't argue with me."
"Why you impertinent—"
But Anna had already begun to slink her way towards the other side. There was a hidden compartment near Buquet's regular post, which if she could get to, would serve as an excellent hiding spot. She weaved and tiptoed, moving through the shadows as Erik had taught her months ago. She had to admit she was nervous after so long a hiatus from haunting, but once she was back in familiar territory her old confidence came to her aid.
The new guy was a skinny, lazy looking fellow who was employed in picking his nose when the Raven found him. She kept to the darkest corner, near the secret compartment, and used a little of the ventriloquisms the Phantom had taught her to throw her voice.
"Hello."
The new guy jumped at the sound of the disembodied voice. "Who's there?"
"Someone to welcome you. I don't believe I've seen you before. Are you new?"
"Y-yes," he squeaked. The poor lad whirled about, trying to locate the voice. His eyes caught a patch of glowing white something, hanging in the air in the darkest corner of his loft. In the manner of all stupid people, when confronted by the unknown and frightening, he decided to move toward the floating white spot, rather than away from it.
"A-are you the…"
"The what?"
"The Phantom?" he gasped.
"Dear me, no. I'm not nearly clever enough to be the Phantom. By the way, did you know that in the state of New Hampshire, there is a little, obscure town, the residents of which celebrate Moose Day?"
The new guy stopped dead in his tracks and blinked. "No, I-I didn't know that."
"They do. They have moose-calling contests and moose parades and everything. And I would tell you all about, but it appears your supervisor, M. Buquet there, is in need of some assistance."
All at once the white spot vanished and when the new guy turned around he saw a seemingly inebriated Joseph Buquet lying beside his post, with an empty rum bottle in his hand.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So, what did Meg tell you about Christine?" Brooke asked as the Persian served her a plate of spinach puffs.
"She told me how much she hated Christine. She said that Erik's little angel was 'a gold-digger and a shameless prima donna.' Those were her words," he said.
"Wow, I thought Meg and Christine were like this." She held up a hand and crossed the index and middle fingers.
Apparently, Nadir understood the gesture because he nodded and replied, "As did I. I've never been so surprised in my life. Meg was quite vehement in her criticisms."
"What do you think of it?"
Nadir puzzled for a moment before venturing to make an answer. "I am not entirely certain. I determined to observe Mlle. Daaé more closely—"
"Oh, Meg is right. I've no doubt of that. Christine treats Anna and me like crap whenever Erik's not looking. Of course, we're not exactly angels to her ourselves, but that's beside the point."
"All the same, I would feel better having seen her behavior myself, rather than take the word of someone else. Policeman's instincts, I suppose. I think Erik and the Vicomte have made a mistake to place their affections with her."
Brooke sat up straight, upsetting the plate of spinach puffs in her violent movement, "Ya think? Why is it obvious to everyone else, but those two?"
Nadir smirked at the tone of jealousy in her voice. "I wouldn't know about the Vicomte, but in Erik's case, I'd say he is stuck in that sad mentality that tells him no woman will ever love him of her own accord. He figures his only chance is to manipulate the love out Christine, though somewhere in his heart, even he knows it is not enough. Though to be honest, I don't know any woman who could handle Erik."
Brooke arched her eyebrows. Suddenly, the door from the lake banged open and the Phantom and the Raven stormed in.
"How could you be dense enough to wear a shirt that glows in the dark?" Erik roared at Anna's back. She whirled to face him.
"I thought the cloak was covering it," she protested.
"You weren't thinking at all! You were almost caught."
"Hey, it got the job done. I was standing near enough to that cupboard that if I needed to disappear I could have."
"And what makes you think that boy wouldn't have found you?" Erik snarled.
"Because half of his brain was sitting at the end of his finger."
Erik looked taken aback for a moment before heaving an exasperated sigh and stomping off to his room, muttering about impossible women. Anna made faces at his retreating form.
Nadir blinked in shock. Slowly, his gaze returned to Brooke, who did not look in the least bit surprised.
"Well, M. Khan?" she said.
"I believe I would like to retract my last utterance."