A/N: Misty sat in her swivel chair, headphones glued to her ears as she swayed to the music. She didn't see the now-physically fit The Gerry stealthily approaching Mr. Darcy from behind, Punjab lasso in hand.
The Gerry was poised to strike when Captain Marianne breezed into the den.
"Gerry! Behave yourself!" the Captain scolded. "Misty!"
The Authoress didn't budge. Captain Marianne poked her.
"Ack! I hate being poked!" Misty snarled as she whipped off the headphones. "Especially when listening to the OLC recording of "Wandering Child"." Misty's eyes went dreamy.
Marianne dismissed her with a shrug. "I'll bet you'd hate having a dead Mr. Darcy on your hands, too."
Misty flew out of her seat, tackled the Gerry, and wrestled the Punjab lasso away from him. "Leave Mr. Darcy alone!"
"Well, at least you're paying me some attention now," the Gerry said.
Misty climbed off of him and sat in Mr. Darcy's lap. Mr. Darcy didn't say anything. He had run out of words to express his indignation at such treatment, so he didn't bother any more. Misty glanced over Mr. Darcy's shoulder at Savvy, her best friend who had usurped the Gerry's beanbag.
"Hey, Savvy, will you keep the Gerry company?"
Savvy's eyes glittered. "Sure!"
The Gerry submitted without much of a fuss.
Captain Marianne cleared her throat. "I just wanted to report the state of things in realm of the minions."
"Yes?"
"They are currently researching methods of Mary Sue extermination."
"What do you mean by researching?"
"They're running tests on Van Helsing."
"And he's still alive?"
"They've found a way to cross-pollinate him with Wolverine so that he heals quickly."
"Poor man. Well, we may have some use for those methods."
"What do you mean?"
"Anna and Erik are going to need all the help they can get before the Opera House is rid of the Mary Sue."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
THE WORLD OF A MARY SUE
Dearest Diary…
xxxx
"Who addresses their diary as 'dearest'?"
"Sues do, Erik. It's in their nature."
xxxx
…It has been many months since I last took up my pen to write. I start afresh here, with you, because the previous records of my sad life have been forever erased from existence. If only memory were so easily done away with, too.
About a month ago I left all I had ever known in this world to make a new life for myself in Paris, France. What little money I had left paid for my journey to Paris and kept me off the streets long enough for me to find work at the Paris Opera House, of all places! I had expected to be employed as a washerwoman at least…
xxxx
"So that I could pretend like I'm Cinderella."
"Anna! Shush!"
xxxx
…but, lo and behold, I am the understudy for the greatest diva this stage has ever seen: Mademoiselle Christine Daaé! I couldn't imagine a greater honor. After all that has befallen me this sudden change of fortune has left me breathless.
xxxx
"Everything leaves a Mary Sue breathless."
"Anna!"
"Well, it's true—heaving chest and all! Read on, Brooke."
"That's it for this entry."
"So read her name."
"She didn't sign it."
"What?" Anna snatched the diary away to examine it. "That cheap skank! What good is it if we don't know her name?"
Raoul frowned, "I thought her name was Mary Sue."
"That's just her species, darling. Now, Anna, if you would hand back the diary we shall sally forth into the next entry."
"Fine."
xxxx
Dearest Diary,
Today was my first day of practice with the corps de ballet. I've never felt so sore in all my life, excepting, of course, after those wild gallops with—but I must not let my mind wander over what is past.
xxxx
"Damn. Just when it had me at the edge of my seat."
xxxx
That is more easily accomplished these days when I have so much of which to think. What a joy it is to have employment for one's hands and mind! But I must confess…
xxxx
"Confessions!"
xxxx
…that my work is not the only thing that occupies my thoughts. The girls of the ballet have a passion for storytelling. I don't know how much they may be relied upon for integrity, but several of their bedtime tales have left me with chills running up and down my spine. They all relate to Mlle. Daaé and the mysterious being who haunts this theatre.
xxxx
Erik sat bolt upright.
xxxx
They call him the Phantom of the Opera. The title alone is enough to inspire fear and curiosity all at once. From what I have gathered from the girls in the ballet, no one can say they have ever truly seen the Phantom, except for the brief appearance he made at last year's masquerade ball. They tell me that he was passionately, obsessively, dangerously in love with Mlle. Daaé, to the point of madness. They tell me that he haunted her every step and her every dream.
I asked Little Jammes and Kathryn (they are the friendliest of the troupe) how Mlle. Daaé came to be involved with such a man…or ghost, I cannot say for certain. They told me that he was her music teacher, her Angel of Music as she called him. He was the one who taught her voice to soar as it does! It thrills me to the bones just thinking about the genius that this Angel must possess.
xxxx
Raoul quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure she's talking about Erik?"
Anna smirked, "She most certainly is."
"She sounds like a phan girl," Brooke said.
"That's what all Mary Sues are at heart."
xxxx
I longed to know more of him…
xxxx
"Naturally."
xxxx
…so I fashioned myself into a most willing listener for anyone who had a story to tell. If I could write it all out upon this page I might, but it seems sacrilegious to document such a tale as this. All of his labors for the love of Mlle. Daaé have been in vain. I wondered that she could refuse so ardent a lover, but Kathryn and Jammes told me of his monstrous appearance. What they described to me (descriptions no doubt filched from the tongues of the roguish crew) I cannot bring myself to write down. Furthermore, I have learned that Mlle. Daaé was said to have been in love with a young Vicomte (love of titled nobility is a dangerous business, I might add)…
xxxx
Raoul squirmed uncomfortably.
xxxx
…All this amazes me. I confess that I cannot entirely blame Mlle. Daaé for her refusal of the Phantom's love because I have often sensed in her that deep scar of past affliction, which has not yet ceased to be a torment and continues to mar the better judgment. I do believe that she and I could be kindred spirits one day. She seems such a warm, genuine person…
xxxx
There was a slight pause in the reading while Anna and Brooke laughed until their sides throbbed with pain.
xxxx
…Still, all of this has left me with a greater longing to know this Phantom, monstrous appearance and all. His story is as tragic as my own.
P.S. Kathryn and Jammes did mention two other haunts that appear to be companions to the Phantom: the Raven and the Spirit. Apparently, they bear much ill will toward Mlle. Daaé. I do not know what to make of them yet.
xxxx
"Well, I know what I'll make of her and it won't taste good enough for the dogs to eat!" Anna snarled. "Did she sign it this time?"
"No."
"Next entry then."
xxxx
Dearest Diary,
You are my only friend here in this miserable place. I should have known that the good fortune I received upon my arrival was too good a bliss to last. It does not matter where I turn, the past always follows and new misfortunes join it. I thought that I had at last found some true friends amongst my fellow workers, but how dreadfully deceived was I. Beneath the masks of friendliness everyone of them conceals a heart of malice. The girls are petty and jealous, the crew lecherous, and the patrons snobs. But I should not blubber so. It is disgraceful in one such as I…
xxxx
"She's uncommonly bitter for a Sue," Anna observed.
"I'll wager ten francs she never betrays one iota of these feelings to any human being. She saves it all for the diary. That's why it is such a good source," said Brooke.
"But don't forget, we still haven't learned her name," Erik put in.
Anna shot him an angry glare. "Why do you want to know her name so badly?"
"I don't. You do."
xxxx
…But I forgot. I have not told you who I am, have I? Perhaps I should. I only avoided writing my history down because it was so painful to remember. It all came flooding back today when I had my first on stage rehearsal as Mlle. Daaé's understudy. Standing upon that stage and singing as I have not sang since…that tragic night so many months ago. I broke down in tears. It was too much to bear: the newly discovered backstabbing of the ballet corps and the crew and then this unexpected recollection of the past. No doubt the girls are enjoying a good laugh at my expense. La Sorelli and Meg Giry must be in the lead. They have never spoken a single kind word to me, or even a word at all…
xxxx
"That's odd," Erik muttered. "Sorelli and Little Giry are usually the more mature and kindly of the group."
"That is strange. Sues normally become instant friends with Meg Giry," Brooke said.
"Maybe Meg and Sorelli have sensed her true Sue nature and have decided to ignore her and then the Sue has interpreted their silence as snobbery," Anna reasoned.
xxxx
…Alas! I sound as bad as the pettiest of the ballerinas. Even worse, I sound like a coward. My family patriarchs would turn in their graves if they saw how I have tried to run from the past, tail tucked in like a whipped dog. Well, even where courage fails, pride prevails…
xxxx
"That was catchy."
"Sh! I sense some juicy secrets up ahead!"
xxxx
…thus, I shall relate to you my history.
xxxx
"Finally!" Brooke crowed.
Anna snorted, "Ten francs and a brand new dress says that she is the only daughter of some grand duke who was dreadfully negligent following the death of his beloved, beautiful wife, while the rich stepmother was as wicked as they come. Our dear Sue went through her pampered life misunderstood, sheltered, and controlled by all excepting her beloved elder brother Emile who doted on her and taught her to sing like an angel until the night he died in a fire which burnt the estate to the ground. Afterwards, the wicked stepmother forced the Sue into marrying a devastatingly handsome comte who was lustful and abusive. Happily, with the help of a decrepit manservant and a fine horse, the Sue managed to flee from her groom on their wedding night and ran to Paris, where he'll never find her (unless she's stupid enough to make a name for herself as the opera's next big thing). Unhappily, she stills retains deep emotional scarring."
Everyone blinked.
"I'll take you up on that bet," Erik said.
They all gapped at him in surprise.
"Are you joking?" Anna asked.
"No, I am perfectly sincere. If this Sue's tale is exactly as you predict, I'll give you ten francs and buy you the finest gown in Paris for Mlle. Cheney's masquerade ball. I'll even go shopping with you to find it."
"You're on! Raoul, Brooke, you're witnesses!"
The Phantom and the Raven shook hands on it.
xxxx
I am Alaine Bianca Cordelia Desdemona Eustasia Francine Georgette Helena Iris Josephine Kassandra Lucille Mignonette Nancy Ophelia Priscilla Quennell Rachael Sophia Theodora Ursula Veronica Willa Xaviere Yvette Zipporah du Prix…
xxxx
Brooke paused to take a breath.
"Nancy?"
xxxx
…the only daughter of Duke John Louis du Prix XII. Our family can trace its history back to the days of Charlemagne. My family called me Alaine, but here I go by Ophelia…
xxxx
"Duh duh! Am I sensing some major literary parallels here?"
"Ophelia did drown."
"Maybe this one will, too."
xxxx
…Two hours later Erik owed Anna ten francs and a new gown.
"I must say that I've never heard a tale of more woe," Raoul said.
"What about Juliet and her Romeo?" Brooke asked.
"I've heard worse," Anna said.
"I've lived worse, thank you very much!" Erik declared.
Anna giggled as she stood.
"I'm glad you find my misery so amusing. Where are you going?"
"I'm going to fix supper."
The redhead traipsed off to the kitchen. Erik followed her, leaving Raoul and Brooke alone. Anna busied herself with collecting all the ingredients and utensils she required whilst Erik scowled at the table.
"Something troubling you?" Anna asked.
"How dare she claim her tale is as tragic as mine?"
Anna burst out laughing, "Oh Erik, you can be so childish at times. I told you that Sues have a flair for dramatics."
"Shouldn't you call her Ophelia?"
"I'll call her whatever I please. I can think of a few choice names right now."
"Before we are beset by a barrage of parchment notes, may I remind you to keep a PG rating?"
Anna huffed and went about her cooking. Silence settled on the little kitchen. Since he had begun paying more attention to Anna, the Phantom had discovered that she enjoyed cooking as much as she enjoyed flowers.
"What are you making, mon merle?"
"Clam linguini with white wine sauce."
"Well, I'm sure it would smell delicious if I could smell very well."
"Then I suppose you'll have to sample some."
Erik came nearer. "If it makes you feel better, Anna, I won't go near the Mary Sue. You have my word."
Anna glanced up, her eyes meeting his. "Thank you…Um, when shall we go shopping?"
"Shopping?"
"For the dress you owe me?"
"Oh, yes."
"And of course, we must set about planning Brooke's wedding."
"Already?"
By then Anna had finished a plate of appetizers and left to deliver it to Brooke and Raoul. Erik trailed her like a shadow. They threw open the door to the sitting room just in time to see the betrothed lovers spring apart from a rather passionate embrace. Both Brooke and her Vicomte were flushed and their clothes were rumpled.
Anna glanced up at Erik. "Yes, already. Can't happen soon enough it seems."
Erik glared at Raoul. "I am persuaded then, but first, Raoul and I have some unfinished business. M. le Vicomte, if you will follow me?"
The Phantom strode past them and into the Louis-Phillipe room. Brooke clung to Raoul.
"Don't go!"
Raoul chuckled as he detached himself from her. "I think I can protect myself, darling."
"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes! Do you hear?"
"Yes, yes." He gave her a kiss on the forehead before following Erik.
Just before the door shut, Brooke called out in a loud voice: "Erik, if you push him into the torture chamber a…"
A duo of male voices interrupted her: "A disaster beyond your imagination will occur. We KNOW!" With that, the door snapped shut.
Anna set her plate down, shaking her head and giggling. "So, did you two get to second base?"
Brooke blushed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Inside the Louis-Phillipe room…
"M. le Vicomte, as Brooke's guardian I feel I must convey to you my sentiments on the subject of your impending marriage," Erik began.
Raoul nodded. "I understand, sir."
"Good. Then let me be frank: if you hurt or dishonor her in any way, shape, or form I will not hesitate to kill you. And believe me, I won't be merciful."