Trapdoor || A Phantom of the Opera/Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

A/N:

Hello friends! Um, I'm a little uncertain about this chapter. There's a rather abrupt tone shift in the third part, and I don't know if it's too jarring or doesn't flow well. I would appreciate some feedback on that.

Also, the amazing sandshoesandbadwolf made a gorgeous edit for this story. Check it out!

http://raoul-de-indie.tumblr.com/post/109834243795/trapdoor-written-by-ofghostsandrevolutionaries-it

-Han

Chapter Nine

“It’s getting harder and harder to keep a low profile these days,” Amy remarked as she stepped out of the boat and walked over to where Erik sat. “What with me suddenly becoming the lead soprano, plus your mysterious visit earlier today, I’m famous.”

Erik glanced up at her apprehensively. “Is that a problem?”

She shrugged, folding her hands in front of her. “It has its advantages,” she said evenly. “But it’s harder to get away sometimes. I hope that you’ll understand if I’m late sometimes.” She didn’t seem too annoyed, just thoughtful, so he relaxed.

“Of course I understand,” he said.

Amy gave him a crooked smirk. “You know, the ballet girls were terrified of you,” she told him. “Especially Isabelle, the girl you spoke to?”

Erik’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. “Well, I’m glad to know I’m still terrifying,” he said dryly.

“Oh, not to all of them,” she said, grinning now. “Some of them fancy themselves in love with you.”

He flushed uncomfortably, his visible cheek turning red. “What?”

She laughed. “Somehow, they think the idea of a ghost is ‘romantic’.”

“Oh.” Erik went silent, trying to process this.

After a moment, she interrupted his thoughts. “Erik, you’ll be there on Beauty and the Beast’s opening night, won’t you?”

Confused, he said, “Of course I will, my dear.”

Amy blushed prettily and smiled, touching his shoulder. “Good,” she said. “Now, are you ready?”

“When am I not, Amelia?” Erik played a scale quickly, glancing up at her with a small smile. She was holding back a laugh as she sang it, and he thought he had never been quite as happy as he was on these quiet evenings with his beautiful student.

~O~

Amy was always late for lessons with Erik, it seemed. Some days she was rehearsing late. Others she just couldn’t get any time alone. Sometimes she completely forgot.

On one particular day – the day after Erik made his grand appearance in the Opera Populaire – she was kidnapped.

She was alone, walking back to her dressing room after rehearsal, when cold fingers suddenly closed around her wrist and yanked her backwards. She gasped, jerking forward, but the hand gripped her tighter, another joining it at her elbow. A second pair of hands, these ones smaller, caught her other arm in a similar fashion.

The owners of the hands pushed her quickly down the hallway and into an empty room, then released her. She whirled around just as the door shut with a click, but the angry words on her lips died as she saw that her captors were none other than Halette, Majori, and Isabelle.

“What’s going on?” Amy questioned, bewildered and more than a little annoyed. When the girls stayed silent, she went on, “I don’t have time for this right now. I’m going to be late for –”