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

Chapter Seven

A/N:

Lots of sassy!Amy in this chapter.

Merry Christmas! Or, for those of you who don't celebrate, have a great day!

-Han

Chapter Seven

"Erik!" Amy called as she stepped out of the boat, face aglow with excitement. "Erik, are you here? I have something to tell you!"

Silence greeted her, and she frowned. Erik was rarely away. Perhaps he was attending to business elsewhere in the theater? She couldn't imagine him being anywhere else.

Amy shivered a little. It was quite cold down here, and she hadn't had time to change out of her tutu and pointe shoes before hurrying down to the lake. The news she had to share was too urgent to wait, but Erik wasn't even here.

Frustrated with him for being gone, frustrated with herself for not just leaving him a note, she rose up en pointe, lifting her arms above her head. She started a series of pirouettes, imagining she could hear music. This was how she had always gotten rid of her irritation over the years: by dancing.

She did not know how long she danced, alone by the lake, releasing the stress of the past few days. All she knew was that at some point, the music in her head became real, Erik's gorgeous tenor weaving around her in a wordless song. Finally, breathless and sweating, she concluded her dance, ending in a split on the floor with her torso bent over one leg and her hands resting on her ankle.

After some moments, she rose slowly, looking at Erik. He stood beside the lake, hands folded in front of him, a curious expression on his face.

"What?" she said quietly.

"I have never seen you dance before," Erik admitted.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Yes," he said, mirroring her action. "Now, may I ask what exactly you are doing down here?"

"I was looking for you," Amy said. "And when I couldn't find you, well…"

Erik frowned slightly. "Why were you looking for me?"

A small grin came to her face, and she stepped closer to him. "Did you see the cast list for Beauty and the Beast?"

"I regret to say I have not," he said, a glimmer of interest in his dark eyes.

She barely kept from squealing as she caught his hands in hers. "Guess who the leading soprano is," she said breathlessly.

He appeared to consider it. "Hmm… is it that Miss Abadie? She had a very pretty voice, if I recall."

Amy narrowed her eyes, releasing his hands and whacking him not-so-gently on the shoulder. "No, you idiot, it's me!"

He laughed, actually laughed and smiled and everything, and Amy realized two things. One, this was the first time she had ever heard him genuinely laugh; and two, he had dimples. She was transfixed by these facts, and almost missed what he said next.

"I am not surprised," he told her, touching her cheek. "You're magnificent."

She gave him a cheeky smile to hide her embarrassment. "I am, aren't I?"

He frowned. "Shall you become a spoiled diva, then?" he asked her severely, though there was still a teasing undertone that would be easy to miss if she didn't know him so well.

"Oh, I'm quite sure of it," she said cheerfully. "Soon I shall even rival La Carlotta, the prima donna some years ago, if I am correct."

Erik winced visibly at the thought of the woman. "She was a terror," he agreed. "And completely unfit for my stage, if I might add."