Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Phantom of the Opera ❯ Act II ( Chapter 2 )

Title: Phantom of the Opera 2/?

Author: Windy-chan

E-mail: WindyKotaa@aol.com

Archive: If you want it, just ask. ^^'

Pairings: 1+3, 2+Non-GW character...

Warnings: Shounen-ai... think that's it. ^^' Oh, a bit of Relena bashing... ^^;;;;

Category: AU, POV (Trowa's again), slight bit of angst, and some sap...

Notes: Hah! Took me longer then it should have because I lost the Phantom of the Opera script in the blackhole that is my room. ^^' But I have found it again! Yay! So all is well. A special thanks to Lyric-chan because she's so enthusiastic about my stories that it makes writing them that much more fun. ^-^ I heart you, Lyric-chan! ^_____^

Disclaimer: Neither Phantom of the Opera nor Gundam Wing belongs to me. If they did, I doubt I would working with kids who don't seem to know the meaning of 'don't' and 'no'.... ^^' Besides, all my money is going into my anime addiction... so don't bother suing.

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Title: Phantom of the Opera 2/?

Author: Windy-chan

' ' -Thoughts

"Trowa... Angel..."

I glanced about the hallway knowing that I would find no one, but it was becoming a habit. It had been a week since I had last seen him, yet I could still hear him, whispering into me inside my mind... other times, when I was half asleep, I would feel a feather-light stroke of a hand down my cheek... phantom lips upon my own...

I sighed and shook my head, walking out of the hallway into the backstage, heading for the group of people preparing for rehearsal. 'I must be going mad...'

"Trowa!" I blinked as someone called out my name, and I saw Duo Maxwell waving a hand frantically at me. "Trowa, over here! You *won't* believe what we've heard!" I smiled slightly, walking over to him.

It never ceased to amaze me how kind Duo was. With his marvelous baritone voice, he could easily work at any opera house of his choice. Coupled with his dazzling beauty, it was a combination guaranteed to bring unrivaled arrogance ... yet he was one of the sweetest, friendliest, kindest men in opera. Its amazing he'd managed to survive in this business, considering how cutthroat it is.

"What is it, Duo?" I asked. One of the dancers, a young girl named Sally Po, replied before Duo had a chance to say a word.

"I heard the manager, Monsieur Lefévre, talking with a couple of men. He's selling the Opéra Populaire!"

"Really?" I wasn't very surprised. "So he finally grew tired of the business?"

"No, no, no, Monsieur Barton," Duo tsked at me, waving a finger back and forth, a sly grin on his sweet face. "Do not dismiss it so quickly. Tell him, my dear."

Sally looked around, making sure no one else was listening, then whispered softly, making the others and myself lean forward in order to hear her. "Well, I didn't *mean* to eavesdrop, but when I heard them talking about selling the Opéra Populaire, well... they kept asking him why he was retiring, but he'd never answer! He'd always avoid the question, or outright ignore it!"

"So?" I asked, feeling skeptical. "Maybe he just doesn't want to offend anyone. Having to deal with Signora Relena for seven seasons is enough to drive *anyone* to retirement! As if on cue, 'Signora Relena' started a very loud, and very high pitched argument with the seamstress over the design of her costume. As a group we all winced, then sighed. No matter how many times it happened, we could never get used to it.

"But... I've been hearing things," another girl, Elizabet, I think her name was. Her deep brown eyes holding a bit of fear in them. "I've heard Monsieur Lefévre... he's frightened, very frightened. Signora Relena may annoy and frustrate, but there is nothing about her to cause fear!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sally muttered. Duo snickered. Elizabet shook her head.

"I'm serious! Something wrong is going on here, and *that's* why he's leaving."

"Gossiping again, are we?" All of us jumped when the ballet mistress Madame Po, Sally's mother, spoke from behind us, arms crossed in a pose of impatience.

"Gossiping? Us?" Duo's expression was of innocent hurt. "Would we *ever* do such a thing?"

"Hm. Yes," Madame Po replied, obviously not buying his innocent act in the least. "Don't you all have other things you should be doing?" she looked pointedly at her daughter. Sally backed away slowly, then hurried over to where the other dancers were warming up for rehearsal. Madame Po turned her gaze to the rest of us. "Well?"

"We don't warm up until the director arrives," Elizabet said sweetly. "Besides, its not like we ever *insult* anyone."

"Except for 'Signora Relena,'" another girl next to Elizabet whispered, who prompted found herself elbowed sharply, falling into silence with a small "ow". Elizabet smiled at Madame Po again.

"Hmm... well, as long as its not about me, I suppose there's no harm in it," she said reluctantly, though I could see a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Duo seemed to notice that as well, and played on it.

"Oh, Madame Po, gossip about you? Why the only gossip is how so many handsome suitors approach you, asking for your hand, only to have their hearts broken, for you are already spoken for!" Duo said melodramatically. All of us found ourselves hard pressed not to laugh at Duo's overacted speech, while Madame Po blushed furiously.

"Oh, you scoundrel, you!" she chided him. "Watch that tongue of yours, you'll steal every single maiden's heart away!"

"Then I shall have to give them back," Duo laughed in reply. "For my heart has been claimed, hasn't it, chérie?" he smiled at Elizabet, who blushed prettily, while the other girls sighed in envy. Madame Po merely smiled and walked away, turning her attention to her dancers.

"So Monsieur Barton, are you enjoying your time with the Opéra Populaire?" asked another young woman, a singer named Hilde, batting her eyes at me. I was about to stutter a reply when Monsieur Lefévre clapped his hands for silence, drawing our attention. Standing behind him were two tall, well-dressed, but otherwise nondescript men.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please?" Lefévre finally got us all to settle down, then spoke again. "I'm sure that by now all have heard the rumors of my imminent retirement. These rumors are true." He gestured behind him to the two men in turn. "These men are the new owners, Monsieur Richard Firmin, and Monsieur Gilles André."

Murmurs broke out among the various people gathered for the announcement.

"I can hardly believe it!" Hilde exclaimed. "He really *is* leaving!"

"I never doubted it," Elizabet replied condescendingly.

"Well... if the Opéra is truly changing hands, best make myself known," Duo muttered, half to himself it seemed. With that, he walked towards the gentlemen, and Relena was doing likewise. Lefévre noticed their approach and introduced them accordingly.

"Ah. Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Signora Relena Peacecraft, our lead soprano for seven seasons, and Monsieur Duo Maxwell, the finest baritone in the business."

André nodded. "Signora Relena, I have had the pleasure of hearing you before, but I do not recall ever hearing your name, Monsieur Maxwell."

Duo smiled his most charming smile. "I'm fairly new to the world of opera."

"I see," Firmin replied. "A pleasure, to be sure." He turned his attention to Lefévre. "No tenor?"

Duo looked a touch miffed, and he turned around, walking back towards us when a bit of movement above us caught my eye, causing me to look up. I saw a shadow flitting across the catwalks, then, in horror, realized that one of the heavy backdrops was falling, heading straight for Duo.

"Duo, look out!!!" I yelled, running at Duo and tackling him to the ground, just in time, as the backdrop hit the ground with a loud crash just were Duo had been standing a moment before.

"Duo!" Elizabet ran over to us. I climbed off Duo, who had a dazed look on his face. "Duo, are you alright?"

Duo shook his head slightly, trying to clear his head, then smiled shakily at Elizabet. "I'm fine, chérie, just a bit rattled." He turned to look gratefully at me. "Thank you, Trowa. That drop would have flattened me, if not for you!"

I shook my head. "It was nothing. We're lucky I saw it falling in time."

Elizabet kissed me on the cheek in thanks, which surprised me. She helped Duo to stand, then walked him back to his dressing room. I touched my cheek where she had kissed me in wonder...

"Buquet! Buquet, where are you?!" Lefévre yelled, bringing my mind back to immediate matters.

"Buquet?" asked Firmin.

"Chief of the flies," Lefévre replied quickly. "He's responsible for this. Buquet!"

An old stagehand appeared from behind a curtain.

"Buquet, for God's sake, man, what's going on up there?!" Lefévre asked, furious.

Buquet looked pale with fright. "I'm sorry, Monsieur, but I do not know! I was not at my post! No one is up there!"

"Perhaps the ropes holding the fly up broke?" suggested André. I walked over to the backdrop, studying the ends of the ropes.

"These ropes didn't break. The ends are not frayed. They were cut," I told them, showing them the end. "Its much too smooth to be anything else."

"Cut?!" exclaimed Firmin. "Who would do something like that?!"

"The Phantom..." I heard Sally say in terror. "The Phantom of the Opera..."

"Well, I don't think there's much more I can do to help you, gentlemen. Good luck!" Lefévre quickly ran away, not looking back. André and Firmin did *not* look happy, and neither was I. 'He wouldn't do anything like this! ...Would he?' I found the question extremely disturbing, and suddenly I wanted to think about *anything* except for that.

I found myself in my dressing room. I didn't remember walking there. I felt like I was wrapped inside a fog of doubts and fears, dimming the outside world...

"You doubt me, Angel?"

I spun around to see him standing before me... those cobalt eyes looking at me. Hurt, sad eyes.

"Heero..." I whispered, caught without an answer.

He walked towards me, cupping my face in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. "I would never do anything... to harm you. You care for that man. He is your friend, yes? If you care for him... I would never harm him." I stopped breathing when I saw... all his love for me in his eyes. "I love you too much to hurt you."

I felt tears spill down my cheeks. I hadn't cried since I was a boy... but I found myself so ashamed for doubting him that I could not help but let them fall. "I'm sorry... I should have believed in you," I whispered. He smiled softly, kissing away my tears.

"I forgive you, Angel. No matter what you do... I shall always forgive you."

"Mmm, you shouldn't say things like that," I whispered, smiling a little. "You'll tempt me into testing that..."

He laughed softly, then silenced any more words I might have said with a passionate kiss. The rest of the world was forgotten as he showed me just how deeply he had forgiven me...

~TBC