Time the Avenger

Ch. 22 – When the $h-t Hits the Fan

Re-cap: Gabrielle and Caron's little adventure in Paris had been discovered.

As a young journalist, I had been trained not to demonstrate fear or disgust in times of crisis. This was such a time. My shoulders shuddered ever so slightly; I ceased breathing for a few seconds. Eyes the color of marine phosphorus locked with mine. Sweet Beelzebub, Erik was here in the Alcazar, and he looked tremendously pissed off.

No emotion showed on my face. I smiled at the crowd while whispering instructions from the side of my mouth, "Caron, move off of the stage as if nothing's happened. Wave, smile, then run, stage left to the exit door in the back." She obeyed, grasping my hand tightly, allowing me to lead her.

When I turned around, I expected to find Erik moving stealthily through the crowd after us. Instead, the ever-unpredictable Erik was still in the corner, staring at us like a hooded ghoul.

Directives raced through my mind; out the back door, into the street and hail a cab swiftly. That's what we could do, and then we would retire to the hotel and worry about consequences later. Maybe I would send Caron back tonight. She had done nothing improper, heck, neither had I. Why did I feel so guilty?

At first, the back entrance door would not budge when I attempted to open it with normal force. Finally, I shoved my shoulder against the heavy wooden door and it gave way. I pulled Caron into the dark alley and ran in the direction opposite the music hall's front entrance. There was a cabriolet stand with three vehicles waiting for fares. I ran up the closest one, panting out instructions, "Take us to the Le Relais du Louvre." Caron entered first with my assistance. I smiled at her reassuringly, "You did nothing wrong, Caron. You were simply having some innocent fun. If anyone is to blame, it is I, Madame."

She smiled back, adjusting the hat that had slipped during our flight, and scooted further into the dark recess of the cab.

I put my booted foot up on the ledge to step in when I felt a large hand clamp down hard on my shoulder.

"You are correct, Madame Spencer is blameless. However, you, Gabrielle, have much to answer for."

How in the hell had Erik gotten to us so quickly? Phantom indeed. I froze. Think, Gabrielle.

Erik handed the cabbie money, and told him to take Madame Spencer back to his estate. He gave the man directions to the manor, offering the man three times what he would have made in fares for the night to travel just beyond the edge of Paris.

"Caron, you shall return tonight. Enter quietly from the front of the manor house, and your parents will know no different about your adventurous evening, dear. After that, it shall never be spoken of again."

I heard her whimper a weak, "Yes, Monsieur Dupuis."

Oh lordy, is he mad. I can tell by the way his fingers are digging into my shoulder. I can't go with him. He'll do something to me— I just know it. The problem with Erik was that I really didn't know what he was capable of when someone pushed his buttons.

While Erik addressed Caron, I took the opportunity to escape. I brought my hand up and jabbed him sharply in the Adam's apple, spun around and threw a righteous roundhouse kick against his chest, laying him flat. Basic kickboxing moves are much more easily accomplished when wearing pants.

Then I ran like hell.

Navigating the streets and alleyways of Paris in the dark wasn't simple. Patches of ice made the cobblestones quite slick. My new leather soled boots hindered traction. Thankfully, I was small enough to slip in and out of the dense crowds. I had to find a place to hide for the night, and it couldn't be the posh hotel. If Erik had found the dance hall, he must know the location of the hotel room we had procured.

Why was he so upset with me? Was it the reverse Victor/Victoria act? Could he be angry with me for not telling him? Perhaps he felt I was corrupting the innocent Mdm. Spencer. Was Erik being possessive? But, I was dressed as a man. I was hardly scoping out other men.

A fleeting glimpse over my shoulder told me that Erik was closing in. Damn long legged man. I darted around a group of portly gentlemen smoking cigars and leering at obvious ladies of the evening. I found myself in a stinky, dark, narrow alley, with no discernable exit. Crapola—what now, I fumed. There was a narrow breezeway between two of the buildings. My form would fit enough to barley squeeze through. It was my only chance.

Just then I stepped in something squishy. I heard screeching as an animal darted from under my right foot. Before my feet had time to fight for footing, my bottom smacked the cold hard cobblestones. Eew. Whatever I'd landed in smelled disgusting. Adrenalin flooded through my veins, allowing me to upright myself swiftly. Erik was so close; I could see the furious glint in his eyes.

The breezeway! I had to get through. Erik noticed the narrow passageway and realized my intent. Damn. When I turned to make my way into it, I heard a sound. It was if a whip were slicing through the air. Something caught me by the neck and tightened. My air passage was cut off, I struggled for air.

Horrors, it was some sort lasso. Mon dieu, did he mean to kill me?

Tears filled my eyes, partly from the rope around my neck and partly from the knowledge that it was Erik who was hurting me so.

"Struggling is fruitless Gabrielle; it can only lead to your demise. We do not want that now, do we darling? Stay still and you will not be harmed," Erik's menacingly smooth voice warned.

This is what a cornered rabbit feels like, right before bring consumed by a carnivorous animal, I thought.

I threw up my hands. Even I knew when to say when. The noose around my neck slackened, allowing me to breathe again.

Could this be the same man who had held me in his arms only three nights ago?

Erik walked toward me, the lasso still taught in his hands. "I am not sure what game you think you are playing with me Gabrielle, but be assured, it is one you will lose," his voice dripped threat. "Surrender to me, and I will remove the punjab lasso from your neck."

My eyes pleaded with him not to harm me. I would obey.

He grasped my left arm in one hand, and removed the noose from my neck with the other.

"Let go of me Erik, you have no right to treat me in this manner, what's up with you? Stop being a prick!" I struggled to free myself from his forceful grip on my arm.

He spoke sternly, while maneuvering me back up the alley, "We are going to walk calmly to my carriage, and then we will return to my manor, where you and I will engage in an imperative chat."

"I've done absolutely nothing wrong, you know. Caron and I were merely listening to music, dancing, and basically enjoying ourselves. When did that become a crime? Well, other than doing it as a woman that is. I hate the confines this démodéd society puts on women. It's ludicrous, I tell you, absolutely bat-$hit ludicrous!" I railed.

"Did you not hear what I said? We will discuss your transgression later!"

"You've gone crazy, Erik. You can't possible know what it's like to not be able to walk the streets, or attend a play, or go to a restaurant of your choosing with out being ostracized for doing so. I hate living as a recluse, I hate this f—ing century and I hate you for doing this to me!" I screamed at him.

Erik stopped. He squeezed my arm hard and hauled me up to meet his face. "You filthy mouthed adventuress!" he seethed through gritted teeth. "How dare you tell me that I know nothing of being ostracized? I have spent my entire life imprisoned by my face. So repulsive am I to others, I dare not go to a restaurant, a museum, to the opera, or, even walk the streets in daylight. Do you know what it is like to have people run screaming from you in terror when they see your face? No pretty little girl, you do not, do you? He spat at me. "This mask brings curious stares and unwelcome questions as well. Never, ever, speak to me of rejection again."

Erik was having a major tizzy fit. Frightened as I was, I just couldn't keep my yap shut, "Look here, I am sorry for your misfortune— as I like to say, it sucks. On a scale from one to ten, it's a 12. But, I cannot live this way, I just can't. I did not ask to be here, and I am not going to live as a delicate little flower. If there is a way to be a useful, active participant in this oppressive world of yours, I will do it, or die trying. If not, you might as well just kill my ass." I jutted my jaw at him in defiance.

His hold on my arm hurt, I was sure there would be a big bruise there tomorrow, but I didn't flinch. We glowered at each other.

Finally, we had arrived at his carriage, which was twenty feet from the alley exit of the Alcazar. How had I missed it earlier while Caron and I were fleeing? Erik opened the door and nearly shoved me inside. "Get in. Don't think about escaping, I have locks on the outside of the doors."

"Naturally, you're the Phantom," I grumbled.

"Be silent!"

I flopped into the corner and looked away from him, "I thought you were different. My mistake for thinking you gave a damn. Why, are you doing this, Erik?"

He heaved a sigh, "You do not realize how dangerous Paris can be, Gabrielle. My intent was to keep you and Madame Spencer out of peril."

"Look here, I can take care of myself, as you have witnessed first hand. No one was going to bother us. I am a man tonight, Erik."

"No, you are not. There is still much you do not know of my culture. Are you aware of just how dangerous this section of town is? Here, men think nothing of robbing and knifing other men for a few francs. Getting lost could have earned you robbery, or murder."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Tell me, how did you find us? Aren't you supposed to be in London?"

"Business was finished early," he shrugged. "As for your little ruse, Gabrielle, when I arrived home, I found a letter from the Le Relais confirming your reservation. You must have missed it in the mail, dear. Trust me when I say that a carriage trip back into the city was not on my agenda after the long train ride from London. But on does what one must, anyway, I paid the Giry's a visit, and when Meg told me you had left the day before, I imagined you had taken an excursion into Parisian nightlife. I did not leave the Giry's with reason to fret over your early departure. They believe I was in town to visit them, and was merely inquiring of your visit."

I began to speak, but Erik silenced me by holding his hand up authoritatively.

"Now," he continued, "I asked myself, if I were a daring, passionate, woman of the future, where would I venture to? On many occasions you have told me of your love for dance and song, so, naturally I looked in the café's and music halls. It was not so hard to find you where you should not have been. And now, you will return to where you belong."

"Where I belong? I belong home, in Chicago 2005, with my family, and friends, and job, and my freedom. I belong where I can walk my brother's dog in my shorts and crop top. Where I can go to the dance club with my girlfriends, where I can ride my bicycle and drive my car and watch TV, where I am not at your mercy. Sleeping with you does not make me your property— your prisoner Erik," I shrieked.

"When we return, Gabrielle," he warned.

With those words he slammed the door, fastened it on the outside, and climbed into the driver's seat.

Why, oh why, couldn't my time traveling taken me to, say, the 1960's. I could have at least met the Beatles…

- O -

Please, do not hesitate to send me a review. It makes me sad when you don't. If you would like to discuss this phan fic, please email me at my address in the author's profile section of the fanfiction site, since I am not allowed to post it here (go figure). The next two chapters will clarify some things that are going on between Erik and Gabrielle. Thanks for reading and reviewing! xxoo -Leesainthesky