I own nothing! I don't own The Phantom of the Opera or any of the Characters therein! Also, I most definitely don't own Veni, Veni, Emmanuel. From what I've researched, it's from the 12th century, or sometime around there. Do I look like a twelfth centurian to you? If so, then please let me know.

This will mean a title, emphasis, or Sarah and Erik singing.

"She shall not be revealed to be alive." Erik instructed as the cops began panicking. "Should you reveal her, I shall proceed to work a multitude of events in such rapid occurrences that you will not be able to recover from them. Simply put, your entire school system in the area, both public and private, shall collapse entirely by the time I am finished."

"Should we do it?" the second cop asked quietly.

"Also, you are to go about as if tonight never happened. Pretend it was a failure, for if you were to see my face, I would kill you as I have all the others. The boys with steroids, the girls with the bottles within them, that was all my doing, gentlemen," Erik explained calmly. "Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur."

But before they could even react, Erik lunged for Sarah's body, grabbed it, and fled quickly. He tossed in a gas grenade, one that he had grabbed from Sarah's arsenal of things labeled 'emergency mass attacks only' in perfect French.

He didn't even stay behind to watch the fireworks fly, but he instead watched as Sarah undid her ropes and shackles and began running towards her home. It was clear that she was quick, and her legs carried her to the school that she had left behind, the one with the classroom labeled 'box five' jokingly.

To her relief, it was empty save her possessions, and she covered the door and window in paper and then let out a sigh. Erik followed her, and was able to get through the walls and the like without any trouble at all. She stared at him and went to hug him, only to go right through him.

"Thank you," she said softly. "You're the first person who's ever helped me aside from my father."

"Who were they?"

"Police," she said shivering. "Thanks for covering for me. I can't believe they actually swallowed my faint acting. I've been working on it for years to play possum, but I never thought it would come in handy. But, I don't understand."

"Hm?"

"Why did you help me?" she asked fearfully, and he smiled softly.

"I was merely passing on a favor that was done to me."

"Madame Giry," she said softly, and he nodded, "From when she saved you from the gypsies as a child."

"A very perceptive child, you are," he chuckled softly. "What I wouldn't give to have a set of eyes and ears like yours in my opera house."

"As soon as I'm done with torturing my brothers and mother," she promised before realizing it. "You used one of my weapons. Which kind of gas grenade was that?"

"What is a gas grenade?"

"It's like a bomb, only instead of exploding into shrapnel, it releases a mass of gasses that are designed to torture people. Which one did you grab?"

"The one labeled mustard," he said warily. "Why? Tear gas didn't sound like it would work."

"Oh, it would have worked," she said shaking her head. "Mustard gas causes them to literally vomit and cough up their insides. It was one of the weapons used in World Wars One and Two."

"there are world wars?" Erik asked shocked.

So, without further ado, in about nine hundred words, she managed to sum up both world wars in a nutshell and the new technological advances each one gave us. This included going into the lists of countries involved on both sides of each wars, the nicknames, leaders, and the reasons for them. She gave him about twenty minutes of silence to let this information sink in before she explained the two Atomic Bombs, Little Boy and Fat Man, which fell on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, respectively. To emphasize the power of the atomic bombs, she explained the death tolls, causes of death, and the permanent effects that the two bombs had had upon Japanese society.

"Sweet mercy, when does this happen?" Erik gawked shocked at the technology and uses.

"Um, Little Boy was dropped on Hiroshima on… August sixth, nineteen forty five, and then Fat Man fell onto Nagasaki on… August Ninth of the same year. I'm fairly sure those are the dates, I know for a fact that they were both within august of nineteen forty-five and within the week of each other."

"Your technology is astounding. I'm quite glad I live in the eighteen-eighties. No, thank you, leave that kind of warfare in the future for me, if you would please, Mademoiselle."

"As you wish," she said softly as he left in a flurry of his cape, reminding me very much of one Severus Snape. "Wait!"

"What?"

"I don't like ending the night on such a sour note," she said twisting her hands in her lap. "Can-can we sing a duet?"

"I don't know any of your songs," he pointed out calmly.

"Um… I can pull up the words, if you'd like," she said nervously, wanting desperately to sing a duet with him that had nothing to do with Christine Daee.

"Name one song that would be carried over from my time into yours that I did not write," he scoffed.

"O Come, O come Immanuel, otherwise known as Veni, Veni, Emmanuel," she said nervously and his eyebrows shot up.

"That has been around for centuries, even for us in my time. there is an English version now?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded as she quickly pulled up the internet and then the lyrics. He read for a few bars before beginning to sing.

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel
To free your captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the son of God appear
Rejoice, rejoice, oh Israel
To you shall come Emmanuel

Veni, veni Emmanuel
Captivum solve Israel
Qui gemit in exilio
Privates Dei Filio
Carte, Carte, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel

Carte, Carte
Carte, Carte
Carte, Carte
Carte, Carte

Carte, Carte, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel
Carte, Carte, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel

Carte, Carte, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel

"You have a wonderful singing voice," she said embarrassed. "I wish I was as good as you."

"You sing well in Latin. I did not expect it," he admitted, although he would be hard pressed to admit anything else to her anytime soon. "Perhaps, you may be a good understudy to Christine should she cease singing…"

"Thank you," she gasped in shock, her heart feeling ready to burst. "I will do my best to not fail you, your standards, and hopefully someday the Opera Populaire."

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