Looks like I’m back to juggling several fics at the same time. Damn writer’s block…

Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Additionally, Phantom of the Opera belongs to… er, Gaston Leroux I believe, and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber, the book Phantom belongs to Susan Kay, the book Angel of the Opera to Sam Siliciano… I think that’s all I drew from…

Ash Ketchum = Ashline Ketchum (Christine)

Lance Dragyn = the Phantom

Brock Slate = Raoul de Chagny

Other characters are minor roles, etcetera…

Chapter 1 – Ashline

I think I’ve gone mad.

I have heard the voice of the Angel of Music.

Oh I can easily imagine it. A few hundred years from now, someone will find this diary, and shake their heads, and after I’ve been carted off to the asylum they’ll say, ah, Ashline, we always knew there was something wrong with that girl…

I know it doesn’t make any sense – it shouldn’t make sense, I’ve found no reason for it to make sense, but it makes perfect sense! Who else would sing me to sleep with such a sweet voice? I haven’t heard it for more than a week, but it’s wonderful…

Father promised to send me the angel of music… he said that when he was in heaven, he would send him, and now I hear his voice…

So Father must have kept his promise…

It’s odd – I learn so much from him – well, angels are male, aren’t they? At least I think so – I haven’t seen him of course, divine visitations only come in dreams and I’m certainly not worthy of something face-to-face like the Virgin Mary…

But he teaches me. He cares for me… and I feel his presence when he gives me my daily lesson. My voice truly is getting better.

I… I wonder if I might be falling in love.

I can’t! Angels are different… they don’t fall in love. I have to take a few deep breaths, get out of this stuffy room…. I’ll be back for my lesson tomorrow.

I didn’t really say anything useful…

Ashline closed her journal and sighed it was getting late. She should be going home to her flat. Although her dressing room contained a small couch that could be substituted as a bed, she had no desire to spend a night here… it was scary. They said that the Opera Ghost roamed at night!

Leaving her room, she walked outside, hailed a cab, and rode home to the room where she lived with old Agatha Oak, her guardian now that her father was dead.

Danny had been a magnificent fiddler, truly marvelous…. But he had died two years ago, and now she was alone.

Until she had found her Angel…

He watched silently as she left, golden eyes bright beneath the half-mask. Interesting. Very interesting. Still too early to tell, but her voice was improving. He moved quietly through the cellars, shadowlike, in an instant, and the ghostly lake rose before them, mists swirling off a dark surface…

There was no boat.

From the water rose several figures. Long, snakelike, deadly, perhaps. Dragonair. His two Dragonair and his Gyarados watched no one would make it to the house across the lake unless he willed it…

You’ve returned, Master…

“Yes.” Lance said quietly. “I’m home.”

He didn’t bother to swim across – that would ruin his black evening wear after all, and his cloak… he removed the flowing garment for a moment, whistling… a gray, so dark it was almost black creature flew out. His Aerodactyl…

Aerodactyl watched as Lance climbed on and then flew him across the lake.

She is rather attractive.

“Mm.”

A bit young though, don’t you think?

“I’ve only just started her vocal training. I have plenty of time.”

I hope you’re right. I don’t want you to be sad, Master…

“I know. Thank you, dear heart…”

Beneath the Opera was the Phantom’s lair, and that was the way it was meant to be…

The next morning, Ashline was up bright and early for her lesson – no sane person came to the Opera at 7 A.M., but this way, they could have almost two hours alone before the other inhabitants – ballet rats, chorus girls, door-shutters, musicians, underfoot sceneshifters and etcetera came…

She waited, and soon she heard that voice, gentle, soft, and too pretty to be human – sweep around her. “I’m ready, Angel.”

“Good, start with your scales...”

It took about fifteen minutes to warm up, and she was slightly worried. She’d gotten a bit of a cold, the winter weather was notoriously unpredictable, and…

She began to cough slightly into the beginning of her range exercises. This was not good…

“Ashline.” The voice sounded concerned. “What ails you?”

“I think- I think I have a cold, angel. I’m not sure if I should sing.” Ashline looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a great honor, and I should not have gone out so late at night, but… I think…”

“Don’t. It will strain your voice and damage it worse. Relax. Lie down.”

She didn’t protest, but walked over to the couch and lay down. Her head was beginning to pound – yes, it seemed like she had gotten a cold after all…

The voice shifted, and the sounds that issued forth now were wordless, almost like a lullaby – yes, almost as if she were a child again and her father was singing her to sleep…

Satisfied as her eyes closed, Lance touched the counterbalance behind the large mirror that covered one entire wall and stepped forwards. Oh, it was one-way, but it was certainly useful. How else could he watch over her? And she didn’t leave the Opera often, so she stayed in his domain where he could keep a better eye on her – or several pairs of eyes.

His dragons roamed the secret passageways, hidden doors – the labyrinth he had built with him, after all…

He carefully placed a white-gloved hand on her forehead. Fever. There was also a touch of dehydration and malnutrition? Odd…

What was she not telling him?

It mattered not now. For now, he had to heal her…

He placed his hands over her body, an inch away – he wasn’t going to allow himself to touch her unless absolutely necessary – and concentrated… a pale green glow seeped from his fingers, and she sighed wordlessly.

Good, the fever was gone. He could deal with the food issue later. For now, she needed rest the most…

End Chapter

Completed 7/26/05

Phantomness: *kicks writer’s block hard!

Lance: *laughs* I’m the Phantom?

Ash: I’m Christine?

Kairo: You know, the roles do fit perfectly… the semi-evil older man, the innocent, naïve, dumb, girl…

Ash: Hey!

Shoyko: You seem to be having pronoun troubles Phantomness

Phantomness: Argh! I can’t help it! If they’re male in fics and female in others, and I’m writing like 4 fics at the same time…! I get them mixed up, okay? And I was tempted to make this shoujo-ai…