Title: Abe Sapien and the Case of the Sub-Opera Siren
Rating: T, for some language and some violence.

Summary: The BPRD is called in to investigate attempted drownings in the lake under the Palais Garnier in Paris, and who better for a mission in a lake than Abe Sapien. But things are not entirely as they seem, and Abe is going to have to deal with something he never expected in the underground lake.

Disclaimer: All original Hellboy material belongs to Mike Mignola, though this particular version is Guillermo del Toro's as well. Gaston Leroux wrote The Phantom of the Opera, and so technically the Siren is his, though this version of her is respectfully borrowed from my friend Stef.

Author's Notes: And the Grand Finale! Who's in the Phantom's Lair? Will Abe figure out how to free the Siren? Find out now! Enjoy!

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A space had been cleared in the debris and dirt that cluttered the rest of the room, and an elaborate design inscribed on the floor with white and red chalk. Three people sat within it, each equidistant from the other two and all three cross-legged on the floor. Two were girls and the third was a boy; they were young, but the deep shadows cast by the candles clustered around and among them delineated their faces ruggedly and gave the false impression of age. One of the girls, shorter than the other and distinguished by red-streaked brown hair, was reading in a precise voice from a book open on her lap.

Just as the Siren entered she closed the book and looked to the boy on her right. She nodded once and he began to speak, either extemporaneously or from memory, though he did it in French. If he had noticed Abe and the Siren's sudden intrusion, he didn't show it in any way; his voice was even and his tone solemn as he said his part.

Abe realized what it was they were trying to do, and when the Siren bunched her hands into fists and took a first step towards them, he grabbed her arm and held her back. Since he'd initiated contact, he was able to divert most of the waves of thoughts and impressions that assaulted him, but he still released her as soon as he was sure she wasn't going to go charging in. She glared at him, and he shook his head warningly.

"Let them work," he whispered

"What?" she hissed, incredulous. She looked scandalized by the notion alone that she allow these transgressors to go unpunished.

"Trust me," he urged. "Let them finish." He didn't offer any further explanation, and matched her unbelieving gaze evenly, refusing to look away. Finally, she looked away with a shrug, breaking eye contact.

"Fine," she said in a whisper so soft as to be almost inaudible. "But if the try anything..." She let the implied threat trail off and crossed her arms belligerently over her chest. Together, hey returned their attention to the spectacle at the center of the room.

The boy was still speaking, and after maybe thirty seconds more he stopped. This time he nodded, and the second girl (this one with long hair and wearing a pair of glasses), began to read off something in her lap. Abe recognized Latin, and it was Latin they continued in when she had finished and all three began to chant in unison. He had run across enough of the language in his reading to understand the gist of what they were saying, and knew his initial interpretation of the situation was correct. The three of them were trying to summon the spirit of the Opera Ghost. Frankly, it wasn't all that likely they would succeed, but if they did, it would allow a neat solution to the problem with the Siren (as well as saving Agent Marble and Agent Granite a lot of hassle).

The trio fell silent, and all three looked expectantly at the open air in the center of their inscription. Their anticipation was shared by Abe and the Siren, who were just as interested, if not more so, in the results of the ritual. Seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes, and each one that passed seemed interminable. The Siren was getting impatient with waiting-he could feel it. Finally, she turned to him with a wicked little grin.

"Nothing's happened!" she announced in a sing-song voice, as if he couldn't see it for himself. "If you don't mind, monsieur, I'm going to be throwing them-"

"What do you want?"

The voice that interrupted her was one of breathtaking beauty, despite the fact that it was distorted with echo and colored with irritation. Its owner spoke in impeccable English, but it was English undeniably flavored with a French accent. Currently in the process of materializing in the chalk design was a tall, thin shade, cloaked entirely in black. Though its back was to the watchers in the doorway, there was no question of who it was.

"Erik!" the Siren squealed joyfully, launching herself across the room. The girl with the streaked hair and the boy whipped about at her shout and, seeing her coming, threw themselves out of the way. She sprung at the shade, clearly intending to deliver a high-velocity-hug-and promptly sailed right through. The girl with the glasses received the hug instead; the Siren's impact with her slammed both of them to the floor and knocked the glasses askew.

"Sorry," the Siren apologized sheepishly, picking herself up with some alacrity.

The girl groaned, but sat upright anyway, managing half a smile in response. She readjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and said fervently, "I knew you were real!". The Siren didn't hear, though; she was already on her feet and facing the ghost of Erik.

"Siren?" Erik was confused; it sounded clearly in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I still live here," she said airily, waving one hand dismissively in the air. "I've missed you so much! What's it like on the other side? You've gotta tell me!"

Erik hesitated, and then dodged her question by returning to the subject she'd so neatly evaded. "Why, Siren? Why remain?"

"Well, I can't leave," she explained with a strained offhandedness. "Remember that contract you had me sign...?"

"Oh." Total comprehension was clear in the ethereal echo of his voice. He stepped closer to her and reached out as if he was going to take her by the shoulders. His hands went right through and fell to his sides, clenching with impotent frustration. "Siren, your work for me is completed," he told her firmly. "I release you from your contract." He paused, and then raised his elegant hands again, spreading them in the air in front of him with the palms up. "You're free."

The smile on her face when she heard those words was breathtaking.

---

"So what are you going to do now?" Abe asked the Siren. They stood together on the shore of the lake, both staring contemplatively out over its dark surface. Not too far away, Agent Piedra was talking to the three kids in a low, intense voice. He couldn't hear exactly what she was saying, but he had an idea. They were lucky to have escaped so unscathed, and she was probably telling them that. Amateur occultists like them tended to screw up badly far more often than they succeeded; he and Hellboy had certainly mopped up enough innocent-seances-gone-wrong to know just how badly it could go.

He looked over at the Siren in time to catch her equitable shrug. "I don't know," she admitted. "I used to daydream about it all the time, about what I would do and where I would go when my time was my own again. Now that I can actually leave...I just don't know."

Indecision radiated off her, and he could certainly sympathize. She'd lived down here for over a hundred years; he'd have been reluctant to leave too, if he'd been in her situation.

"What's going to happen to them?" she asked suddenly, gesturing vaguely at Piedra and the kids.

"She'll give them an idea of what they could have done," he told her, turning himself to regard them. "Tell them a horror story or two to really hit home the fact that what they did was dangerous, and send them on their way."

"Good," she said. "They let me say goodbye to Erik. I don't want them to get in trouble."

"They won't," he assured her. In fact, the BPRD was always on the lookout for competent, reliable agents, especially ones who were intrinsically comfortable with the supernatural. It was very likely that Piedra would be dropping some names on Tom Manning's desk when they returned to the Bureau.

The Siren knelt on the lake's shore, sifting the tiny waves stirred up by all their recent activity through her fingers. He left her to her reflections; she would need some time to sort it out for herself. He joined Marble and Granite in packing up the equipment they'd hauled down, ultimately for no reason. It took nearly half an hour, and even after they were done, she was still there, still silent.

"Make up your mind?" he asked gently from just behind her, even though he could clearly tell she hadn't. She stood up quickly, looking as embarrassed as if she'd been caught doing something illicit. She shrugged, but didn't have anything to say.

"There's always room at the BPRD," he suggested earnestly, "if you're interested."

"Really?" she exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. "That would be so awesome!" For an instant, it looked like she would hug him in her exuberance, but she refrained (much to his relief).

He steeled his mind and took her hand, leading her courteously over to his fellow agents. "And to think," he started, grinning wryly at her, "all you have to do to earn room and board is help us save the world once in a while!"

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Author's Notes: So there we have it—the end of "Abe Sapien and the Case of the Sub-Opera Siren". What did everyone think? Would you be interested in seeing more of the Siren?

Thanks to Helena Valentine for reviewing, and I'm glad you think so highly of the Siren! She's not really mine, though; I borrowed her with permission from my friend Stef (MetaChi on this site). Hope you liked the ending!

Thank you everyone for reading, and as last time, all feedback is welcomed!