A/N: Whoo HA! An update, so you people like so far mayhaps? Big girl school starts again on Monday, so beware the lagging updates. But I shall fight valiantly against the real world. MUAHAHAHAHA

And remember, folks, I feed on reviews and flames will be used to burn things. Tee hee.

Chaptah Three: The Mysterious Reason

With Jodi carefully placed on their shared bed, her foot wrapped in gauze and liniment, Sabrina watched in awe as the Phantom carefully pulled the blankets over her friends’ cold form. His hand, pale as the moon itself, rested for a moment on Jodi’s forehead before pulling away and resting at its owner’s side.

“She will be fine. A good night’s rest and some breakfast will do her good. She lost a lot of blood so she will need liquids to help replenish her. Perhaps a change of bandages would do her good in the morning, and she shouldn’t walk about for several days till that cut heals properly.” The phantom began to put away his sewing instruments, and left a good deal of gauze and a pair of scissors on the vanity. A bottle of liniment sat on the table next to the bed.

“Make sure to wake her up in the morning. We don’t want her to fall into a coma.” And with that he was out the door.

Sabrina watched him go until the door clicked behind him. Jodi was pale as death, her lips chapped and Sabrina didn’t know what to do. She was a writer for God’s sake, not a nurse! She hated to deal with sick people and the idea of getting into bed with her ailing friend sent shivers up and down her spine.

Sitting on the settee that was pushed up against the wall next to the bed Sabrina twirled a strand of her brown hair around her finger and watched all the dust floating around the room in the candlelight. The only sound was the breathing of her friend and the creak of springs every time she moved on her seat.

“Are you going to just sit there and watch me die or are you going to start a monologue on how miserable this makes you feel?” Sabrina jumped violently and toppled off the settee.

“You’re awake?”

“No, I’m sleep talking. YES I’m bloody awake. Now help me up, I can’t move. What did he do, wrap my entire body in gauze?”

Sabrina helped her friend sit up, placing pillows behind her back to support her.

“No, you’ve just lost a lot of blood. That makes your woozy, right?”

“Um yeah, unless you replenish yourself with food and water before and after. Like when you donate blood.”

Sabrina shuddered, “With needles?”

“Nah, just one needle.’

“Eww, ew, ew, ew…EW!”

“It wasn’t that bad. The worst part is when they prick your finger.”

“Whoo! New topic thanks!”

Jodi laughed lightly; Sabrina hated needles with a passion. “So how did I get here?” And so Sabrina regaled the story of how after Jodi had sliced her foot open with a piece of glass the Phantom had missed when cleaning up the kitchen, he’d rushed to her, pulled her into his arms, sung the most beautiful melody.

“You know, you can go to hell for lying.” Jodi apparently didn’t buy the story.

“Well alright, fine. Though he did rush into the kitchen really fast.”

“Yeah yeah, go on.”

“Um, he noticed the glass kinda poking out of your foot”

“He has brilliant observational skills that one.”

“Yes, and he pulled it out, cleaned the wound. Carted you to bed and told me to watch you and stuff. Change your foot thing in the morning, I think he left too.”

“Where?”

“Something about breakfast. You need sustenance woman!”

Jodi leaned back on her pillows. “So now what do we do?”

“You are going to go to sleep whilst I, um, read. Or something.”

“Or something?” mimicked Jodi. “You’re going to go exploring without me? Do that and I’ll follow you!”

“You can’t, the Phantom said you have to stay off your feet!”

“Oh, bugger the Phantom.”

“I wish.”

“You’re being vulgar.”

“As opposed to? It is the Phantom we’re talking about.”

“Spectacular point. Fine, I’ll go sleeping. But I’m not going to stand for you exploring while I lay here and die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Paging Doctor Sabrina, paging doctor Sabrina! Who do you think you are anyway?” Grumbled Jodi, burrowing underneath her covers and chucking one of the pillows at Sabrina weakly. “Honestly. The roof could cave in on me and it’ll be, ‘stay in bed, Jodi; the phantom said so, Jodi; you need your rest, Jodi. For the sake of, of, Cheesecake! I’m not twelve!”

“No, you’re two and three quarters,” snarked Sabrina but Jodi was already passed out. “Fine, pass out, see if I care! Oooh a kitty cat!”

888

When she woke up, as usual, Jodi took it very slowly. This particular morning, afternoon, or whatever time of day it was, she took it even more slowly than usual.

I feel so heavy, and why am I vibrating? Cracking open one, wary brown eyes Jodi came eye to eye with something small and fuzzy. “What on ear-?”

Something small and fuzzy decided it was time to step on her bladder. “YIKE!” Something small and fuzzy went flying.

“MRAWR!”

“Ayesha!”

While Sabrina was consoling a very put out blue eyed cat Jodi leaped out of bed and made a mad dash to the lavatory when pain receptors started to kick in and she collapsed to the floor. Miserable, in pain, and not quite awake just yet, Jodi glared from between her bangs at the small ball of fur before sighing gustily.

“Why is it always me?” She asked the world at large. Ayesha meowed as only cute, small, fuzzy things can do. Sabrina set her back on the floor.

“Are you going all Neville on me?”

“I like Neville. He’s adorable.”

“Yeah, in a kicked puppy kind of way. You like Samwise too but you wouldn’t want to turn into a very short, fat hobbit with furry feet would you?”

“Can I marry Sam?”

“No, he’s taken.”

“OH, well then can I be the Other hobbit?” Jodi waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ugh. You’re impossible, you need help.”

“I’m improbable and I need Samwise Gamgee.”

“You need to stifle yourself.”

“I need to pee, and help would be marvelous thanks.”

Sabrina huffed a laugh before helping her friend to her feet, well, foot actually. When she let go, Jodi was standing flamingo style and had craned her neck to look at her with what little dignity she could muster. Wavering a little she set off hopping towards the lavatory once again, cursing the existence of the world while glaring at the lavatory door.

When everything had been settled and everyone was back on the bed, Sabrina changing Jodi’s bandages, and Jodi trying to win favor with Ayesha the Phantom of the Opera arrived in the doorway.

“Ah good, everyone’s awake. Breakfast won’t take but a minute and I can bring it in for the two of you to share. Ayesha, come along we’ve got to prepare breakfast for our two lovely guests.”

When cat and her master had gone Jodi and Sabrina shared a long, open mouth stare. “What happy pill is he on?”

“Suppose something’s happened up top? You know, with Christine?”

“I dunno. We still haven’t figured out if we’re post or pre, and what about which version of Phantom? I mean are we in Kay, Webber, or Movie? That and about a billion others.”

“Well we can rule out Phantom of Manhattan, and Movie. He doesn’t sound or look a bit like Mr. Butler.”

“Right. And he’s got an Ayesha, so what does that make him?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a bloody Lexicon.”

“Well, whatever. Perhaps it’s best just not to mention anything.”

“Good call, but what’s made him so disgustingly cheerful?”

“Lord knows. Maybe with some fishing he’ll tell us?”

“Worth a try.”

But neither of the girls had any chance of interrogation because with a swoop of his cape (everyone present had a mild seizure) he set out a huge tray of food, said ‘Good day!’ and was gone.

Sharing another look they were soon distracted from their misgivings when the powerful aroma of breakfast reached them. Meats, eggs, fruits, crepes, crème, coffee, and holy freaking heck are those crystal?

888

The truth was, not even the Phantom knew why he was so gleeful. There was no special holiday, there was no drugs involved; he was simply, inexpilicably, and totally happy for no reason! It was absurd really, but he couldn’t explain it! He’d awoken that morning, very early, and already feeling cheerful. He’d rushed off with barely contained excitement to buy the breakfast supplies and when he saw his guests; his happy demeanor had increased ten fold.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t feel sick. He felt as if nothing was wrong with the world at all which was completely out of character for him! He was supposed to an angst ridden, hate-the-world, brooding type of figure, not this ‘let’s play a rousing game of musical chairs, play with the kitty cat, and talking an absurdly bright voice!’

It was unheard of. It was unnatural. It was-

…Guests. He had woken up with the idea of a mission to by food for his guests. And because paying for anything usually made him quite the opposite of cheerful, it must be the guests! By Jupiter! He was happy because he had people living with him.

Oh this really was getting stranger by the minute; it wasn’t often that the Phantom delved into introspection but now he tore away at his psyche like a man possessed.

Why was he happy he had guests? He hated people on general principle! Ever since Christine- no, nope. Not going down that road. Go back, what was it? Where was the root of this…this…preposterous behavior? Ah, that was it. The shorter one was injured. He was caring for them. He was the master of their well-being and he was in complete control. So it wasn’t them, it was the control he had over them. There we go, the world is alright again. No danger of warm fuzzies growing in HIS gut!

Satisfied with this idea the Phantom proceeded to his organ and began to play. He felt as if he hadn’t played in a century! Music came to life and thrummed in his veins on out of his finger, onto the keys. The room was alive with music as he swayed this way and that, like the flame of a candle. Yes, yes A CANDLE! He swayed, concentrated, and could have sobbed with the beauty of it.

plunk

What the?

plunk!

He growled.

plunk plunk plunk

Cursing, the Phantom jerked away from his treasonous instrument. Moving the bench, still swearing, he yanked at a latch and inspected the innards of his precious organ. Out of tune, dusty, was that a rat? He pulled away and growled again just because it seemed like the thing to do. This could take a while to fix and he had young people to look out for as well. Well, the shorter one was bound to be in bed for days yet and the other one won’t leaver her side till everyone’s in tip-top shape. So.

So he’ll go first thing to buy some required materials to fix his machine of plunks and dust. Then, with that finished, he could make wonderful music again; lose himself to the serendipity and magic. He would teach those monsters of society to walk and talk like proper young women, and he would go on with his miserable existence, detesting everything and dying of a broken heart. Life would be normal. Life would peaceful.

And that would be that! Naturally fate hates him and the authoress would never allow such a thing to happen so the poor fellow never really knew what hit him.

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And now, ten minutes after submitting this I'll find some error. Bah! Am I doing ah-ight so far?