The young lady paced the large dusty room nerviously. Her brown hair was piled up in a braid, pinned to the top of her head. She only had an hour before she was expected elsewhere. She swatted at some dust that settled on her skirts before peering into the shadows once more. Her teacher was late.

"You should be practicing! Not wasting time, Josephine."

She turned, but couldn't find where her teacher was hiding. "I'm sorry. I was waiting for you," she said. "Please, forgive me. I'll practice."

She heard a thud behind her. By the time she turned, her teacher was hiding again, but a book of sheet music lay at her feet. "There is today's lesson. Get started on it, Josphine."

Josphine picked up the book and looked over the music. It was for that night's opera, but for her part. Josephine, though a rising star, was still not the prima donna. That title was held by Charlotte, the diva of the Opera house. All her life, Josphine had admired the women who sang on stage, and wanted nothing more then to be one of them. She was getting her chance, though her parts were small. To sing as Charlotte did was a dream come true.

Stroking the pages lovingly, Josphine set the book down on a table. She cleared her throat and started the first song. Halfway through, her teacher interupted her. "No, no, no! Your voice needs to be stronger. You're not singing it right. Try it again!"

Josphine did, closing her eyes to let the feel of the song drift over her. She was lucky to find such a teacher. All he was to her was a voice in the shadows, a kind soul that taught her all she knew of the Opera. She had her suspicions that he was the mysterious ghost that she heard talk about, but he didn't feel like a ghost. No ghost could bring her song books or drop roses at her door after performances. Josphine didn't care who her teacher really was, only that he was giving her the oppertunity to be a real star.

She sang almost all of her free hour. Regretably, it was time for her to leave. "Teacher, will I see you again tonight," she asked. When there came no answer, she figured he must have left. He was odd like that, slipping in and out of the shadows.

Josphine made her way to the door, only to discover it was stuck. She pulled hard on the knob, but it wouldn't budge. "No, oh no! Not now! I can't be late!" She pounded on the door and yelled, "Please! Let me out! I'm stuck in here!" She pressed her ear to the door, but she could hear no one beyond the wood. If she was late for rehersal, then the stage mistress might give her part to another girl. She had worked so hard to get this far, she hated to think it was all ruined by a stubborn door.

Slidding down the door, Josphine whimpred. "Please, let me out."

Conrad smiled contentedly to himself as he sat inside his TARDIS. "Now let's see where you're taking me today," he said. To most people, he'd seem insane. However, as if in reply, the machine's lever went down on its own. The lights of the TARDIS then began flashing as it transported through time and space. After only a few seconds, it reappeared in the form of a supply closet door. "Let's see where we are..." the man muttered to himself, sticking his head out the door and looking about. He was in an opera house. Fortunately, he was already wearing his suit. As such, he stepped out and locked the door behind him.

"Operas. Love these things," he said calmly, wandering down the hall. However, his musings were interrupted when he heard someone banging on the door. "Oh! Trouble! I love trouble! It's always fun!" he said excitedly, following the noise to a door. He attempted to open it, but it was locked. As such, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the door, pressed the button, and allowed it to sound as the orange light appeared at its tip. He then heard a click, and stepped through the door.

He found a woman inside, obviously distressed. "Well now. Looks like we have something out of place here! Epic," he said calmly. He then offered the woman a handshake. "Sorry, let me introduce myself. Conrad, at your service!" he added, his tone as bright as the excited spark in his eyes.

Jospehine wiped away her tears in embarassment as the door opened. Instead of an angry Madam Gouri or a gloating Charlotte, she found herself facing a gentleman in a nice suit. An obvious patron, or possibly partner in the Opera house. And she was making a fool of herself! She allowed him to help her up and quickly wiped any dust she could find on her skirt.

She was only able to catch the last bit of what he said. "Sorry, let me introduce myself. Conrad, at your service!" He held out his hand to her. Smiling nerviously, Josphine shook his hand. "A pleasure, Monsieur Conrad. I am Josphine Day. Thank you so much for helping me." She glanced back at the room and then at the door. "I don't know what happened. The door stuck and I couldn't open it. I don't know how long I'd be there if you hadn't found me."

Josphine gasped, remembering her rehersals. "Oh, please pardon me Monsieur. I am needed in rehersals. Tonight is a big night and Madam Gouri will have my head if I am late. And I fear, I am late." She started to head off when she looked back. "Monsieur, why are you so far back in the Opera house? Did you get lost? I can take you up to the front."

She couldn't think why someone with breeding as this Monsieur Conrad appeared to have would be in the dusty storage of the Opera house. She knew there were rumors of the owners selling. Oh, she feared she may have made a fool of herself in front of her new boss. Not even her teacher could save her if that were the case.

Conrad shrugged, raising a brow as the girl began to babble about being needed somewhere. He also caught drift of something about wondering how he'd gotten back here. He was sorely tempted to tell her about his TARDIS, though he had a feeling now was not the right time and place for that... Ha... time and place... Time and relative dimensions in space. I'm punny, he thought nonchalantly to himself. After a bit of musing to himself, he finally remembered that he was supposed to be talking to this woman.

"Oh, yes. Heh. Sorry, got a bit sidetracked," he said quickly. His voice had obvious traces of British in it. More specifically, it seemed he had a bit of Liverpool accenting his voice. "I'm not lost by the way. I was heading towards the seating area and just happened to wander off. I tend to get distracted easily. Either way, it's nice meeting you. And, while I'm here, I might as well escort you down to the backstage area. I know my way around numerous opera houses. Though... I need to know which opera house I'm in..." he said calmly.

Josphine frowned. "Is this a test, Monsieur? You are in the Marseille Opera house. Actually, you are in the back of it." He had to be one of the new buyers, she thought. Only a fool wouldn't know where he was, and this man didn't strike her as a fool. Well, not a big fool, as he seemed to have a hard time concentrating.

Taking his arm, she gave him her most charming smile. "Monsieur Conrad, you are not from France, are you? Have you traveled a lot?" As she talked, she urged him along back to the front. "This opera house has been my home almost all my life. I'd be lost without it. Everyone here has been so kind to me, and I have learned so much. Monsieur, you are staying for tonight's performance? Madam Charlotte has the most beautiful singing voice. She's my inspiration. I would like to be like her someday."

For a moment, she forgot with whom she was talking and just let her love for the Opera house take over. "It's all I ever wanted to be, Monsieur. When I was little, I would watch the operas from the wings and imitate the singers while I worked. Madam Gouri heard me and taught me a little. I am in tonight's opera, Monsieur. Just a little part, a singing maid. But, I get to sing in two acts."

As they left the storage room behind, a shadowy figure watched them, not at all happy that a stranger was now in the mix. Eyes gleaming, the figure left through a secret compartment in the wall.

Conrad nodded, listening intently before replying. "Okay then, so we're still in the back. And you're right there. I'm not French. I'm technically British..." he said, chuckling to himself. Well... I'm Gallifreyan, but let's save the whole 'I'm an alien' speech for a little later.... "Anyway, it seems like you really know your way around here. You also seem like a person who really knows their music," he commented, pulling his pad of psychic paper from his pocket.

I sure hope this thing works on tickets... I've never tried it before... he thought to himself. "I do travel a lot, by the way. I'm a bit of a travelling madman, you could say. I drift everywhere. Really, I'm not one to stay in one place for a long time. Continuity bores me," he added in reply to the question asked a bit earlier. "Anyway, I assume you're quite a prolific musician if you've been in the music industry for so long. I'm surprised you haven't gotten any higher in ranks yet!" he said, smoothing out his suit as they passed by the locket storage closet door that led to his TARDIS.

"You're a traveler?" Josephine stopped and looked at him. "So, you're not the new owner?" She smiled and sighed with relief. "I was so scared that you were going to fire me. I guess you can't, if you're not buying the opera house. Oh, my heart is still racing." She laughed and looked at him. Her smile slowly slipped. "I...didn't mean any disrepect Monsieur Conrad. It's just, I was so worried when I heard the rumors that the Opera house was being sold. As I said, this is my home."

Josephine was quiet for a bit. If Madam Gouri had heard her just then, she'd yell at Josephine for being so rude to a patron. She watched the floor as they walked. "I am honored that you think I could be higher in the opera, Monsier. I am not good enough, really. Madam Gouri and Charlotte let me know all the time. My singing isn't up to par and my acting is horrible. My teacher says I'm good enough, though. He thinks I'm good enough to star someday." She sighed happily. Only her teacher believed in her.

When they came to the main portion of the back stage, she turned to Monsieur Conrad. "This is where I leave you, Monsieur. I hope you won't hold anything I said against me." She quickly left him to join Madam Gouri, who promptly chastised her for being late. Josephine took her place for the next act and rehersals continued. When Josephine caught a slight flutter in one of the dark boxes, she smiled and put her all into singing her meager parts. Her teacher was out there, and she wanted to make him proud.

Conrad smirked, raising a brow as he listened to the girl. He completely understood her worries, in all fairness. After all, that would be like kicking him out of his dear TARDIS. Though he'd probably shoot you before you could even attempt to grab him...

When they arrived, he nodded and left the area, thinking to himself. Teacher... What teacher? I didn't know they had teachers... Hm... Maybe it's just something they did here... he mused, wandering towards the front entrance. After some time, he got to the front of the line waiting to enter. He flashed the physic paper before the officials, and nodded curtly as he was allowed in. Ha! It worked! he thought to himself, making himself comfortable in a seat near the middle. He was just far enough to prevent himself form being rained in spit from the singers, yet close enough for an amazing view...

As he waited, he silently observed the other patrons and the rest of the audience. Finally, the lights dimmed and he focused on the stager. Nonetheless, despite his best efforts, his eyes seemed to continuously drift to a nondescript area of the theatre... Why, he had no idea, but he sensed something odd radiating from that little section...

The theater dimmed and a hush fell over the patrons. In the backstage, the performers rushed about to finish getting ready. Rehersal had barely ended before it was time to begin. Charlotte let Josephine know it was her fault.

"If Madam Gouri hadn't waited for you, then we wouldn't be so hurried now," she sneered. "You're no singer." With a swoosh of her skirts, Charlotte left Josephine to feel terribly small and alone. One of the stage hands helped Josephine finish getting dressed while she heard Charlotte sing. She winced, hearing Charlotte miss the very notes her teacher had warned her about. It gave her a small bit of pride to know that she could sing that part better then the prima donna.

At her call, Josephine went out on stage. She had no time to look in the audience to see how many people were watching her. Nor did she care. She knew her teacher was out there, most likely in Box 3, and he was all that mattered. And, maybe Monsieur Conrad. He seemed like a nice man who appreciated good music.

The moment she opened her mouth to sing, Josephine was swept away by the moment. She was no longer poor Josephine, the girl who used to clean the Opera house and had no family. She was now the maid, telling her mistress through song that a suiter was at the door. Her scene over, she left the stage and risked a glance up at Box 3. In the shadows, she could see the outline of her teacher.

In Box 3, the shadowy figure watched and calculated each performance. Charlotte's abrasive voice hurt his ears and he wondered how such a mess could ever be named the prima donna of the stage. Josephine's voice was much nicer. He had plans for that voice. He knew she would be the one sing his masterpiece. Glancing down at the audience, he noted the man he saw with his Josephine. The man kept looking his way, a meddler. He'd have to make sure his Josephine didn't do anything stupid before he was done with her. He needed her voice.

Conrad smiled, applauding as the performance continued. After some time, curiosity finally got the best of him. Unnoticed, he pulled out a pair of opera spectacles. He aimed them first at the stage so as to appear inconspicuous, but quickly flashed them towards the box he had been drawn to. He watched only briefly to avoid attention, though he noticed a shadowy figure standing within the box...

Odd... he thought to himself. Most people are perfectly fine being seen at the opera. Why isn't this particular person... or... entity? However, due to the fact that the show was still in session, he swiftly silenced his fears. After all, he was at the opera. Rarely did his journeys bring him to such... entertaining places. Most of the time, he'd land on a barren asteroid or a planet with one foot in the grave.

Nonetheless, despite trying to shove his thoughts aside, his mind still calculated and fit the pieces of this puzzle together. She had said there was a teacher... so he assumed that this teacher would be watching. However, she didn't seem to notice anyone in the crowd. Though that might be because of the devotion she held for the music... Odd... Odd indeed...

The show ended with Charlotte's big performance, bringing the audience to their feet in roaring applause. Josephine watched from the wings, dreaming that it was her out there in the spotlight. She glanced up to Box 3, but her teacher was no longer there. She never saw him leave. He moved like a ghost. Behind her, she heard the other dancers talking about the play and seeing the shadowy Opera ghost in Box 3. She had to smile. They only saw a ghost, she saw the truth. He was an angel who taught her how to really sing.

Charlotte breezed past her and went straight to her room. Josephine started to leave when Charlotte's screams drew the attention of everyone backstage. Josephine joined those crowding around the prima donna's room as Charlotte appeared, holding sticks.

"Who destroyed my roses! Who dared to enter my room and destroy my roses," Charlotte screamed, waving the sticks. "My beautiful roses from my admirers are ruined!"

"It must have been the ghost," a dancer said. "None of us would dare, Madam Charlotte." All around Josephine, murmurs of "the ghost" rose up. Charlotte didn't look amused. "This was done by someone of flesh and blood!" She saw Josephine in the crowd and pointed her out. "You! You did this. You're jealous of my singing! You wish to take my place!"

"No," Josephine protested. "Madam Charlotte, I admire you. It is not envy."

Charlotte was not convinced. "You'll never work on this stage again!" With that, she slammed the door. Josephine felt her wold collapse. It would take a miracle for her to stay acting on the stage now. Everyone loved Charlotte, she was the star of the opera. Slowly, Josephine left and went to her room. She felt the hot tears in her eyes.

"You sang wonderfully," her teacher said. Josephine looked around her room, but saw no one. She never did. "Your pitch was perfect. Much better then that frog, Charlotte."

"She says I won't ever sing on stage. She's the star, she can take away my career, my home." Josephine sat on her bed. "What am I going to do?"

"Do not worry, my Josephine. You will sing. I have plans for you."

Conrad smiled, applauding throughout the performance. After it ended, he wandered back down the hallway. He then unlocked the door to his TARDIS, entering and searching about. After some time, and a considerable amount of effort, he managed to pull together a bouquet of mismatched flowers. In total, it was five red carnations, three red roses, two red pansies, and a yellow rose in the centre. He then exited, locking the door behind himself before finding his way back to Josephine's room.

He knocked quietly, humming Gimme' the Truth to himself as he stood in the hallway. Hopefully, another time traveller wouldn't happen across him. Or... at least an alien species. Unlike humans, they'd probably find something strange about him humming a song that (according to his guess) hadn't been heard of or even created yet... However, he figured that this would be highly unlikely. After all, he was at an opera house. Why type of crazy time traveller (beside himself...) or alien would hang out there?

After some time, he knocked again, sighing heavily as he browsed through the contents of his pocket. Finally, he pulled out a golden pocket watch and clicked it open, nodding contentedly to himself as he shut the device and put it back in his pocket.

When she heard the first knock, Josephine froze. She wasn't expecting any visitors. What if it was the owners? What if they were here to kick her out? Her teacher must have seen her distress from whatever shadows he was hiding in, and said, "Do not worry, Josephine. You're under my care"

She waited until the second knock and opened her door. Surprised, she saw Monsieur Conrad outside. She shut the door and said, "It's the man from earlier."

"Don't tell him anything," her teacher said. She had the impression he was no longer in her room and reopened the door. Smiling as she saw the flowers, she said, "Hello Monsieur Conrad. I wasn't expecting you."

She opened the door a little wider to let him in. "You'll have to excuse me, I don't have any comforts to offer you. Was there something I could do for you?"

Conrad smiled, raising a brow. "Nothing, actually. I just came to applaud your performance. I managed to find these in my room... I decided you might enjoy them. After all, you are the singer. And my room doesn't really have much space for flowers. But that's beside the point..." he said, muttering the last bit.

After looking about, he finally turned his attention back to Josephine. "I heard you talking... No one's in here, though... Oh well, not my business. As for comforts, that's fine. I'm not usually one for comfort. Unless you include my bed. That thing's insanely soft," he mused, finally realizing that he was now babbling. He had a strange tendency to go off on insane tangents. As many of his friends said, he didn't go on a tangent, he was essentially one giant tangent...

Josephine took the flowers, smelling them. It was the first flowers she had ever recieved. It was so sweet of him to think of her. However, when he mentioned his bed, her eyes widened. "Excuse me, sir! Just what did you mean about that?" She couldn't believe he'd say such a thing. No, she must have heard him wrong, but to suggest that his bed was soft...

She shoved the flowers back into his arms. "I think you should leave, Monsieur Conrad. I'm not that kind of girl. I don't know with whom you've been talking, but I've never...I wouldn't ever...I think you should go." She turned her back on him. It would figure, her first real friend, and he thought she was like that. And he seemed so nice. All she really had was her teacher.

Conrad frowned, raising a brow before realizing exactly what he'd said. Crap. Again!? I need to just have a huge filter I can use for my mouth... he thought to himself. "No! I didn't mean it like that! Sorry, I tend to skip around a bit... okay... a lot... when I'm talking," he muttered quickly. "Really, I promise I didn't mean that. Besides, considering I'm not exactly human, I'm not entirely sure how it would play out, anyway..."

Oh shit... I said that.... he thought to himself, mentally slapping himself across the face. Great! Great! This is just amazing! I should just be a mime... I'd probably still find a way to talk... Urgh... he thought. As soon as the words had escaped him, he seemed to back down, suddenly appearing as if he wished nothing more than to disappear into the shadows...

Josephine turned around and looked at him. "What do you mean? Not exactly human? You're British, not a monster." She gave him a closer look, walking around him. He was a bit awkward. There was something innocent about him. Almost like this was his first time out. Maybe he actually didn't mean anything bad by his comment. She was willing to give him another chance.

"Monsieur Conrad, why don't we start over," she said. "Welcome to my chambers. Please, have a seat. I think I still have some tea left in the pot. Would you like some?"

Meanwhile, the Opera ghost made his way through secret corridors and back passages to the offices of the owners. At that moment, Monieurs Anton and Geaston were toasting their success. That night's opera had been magnificent. Charlotte was their ace. With her, the Opera house would thrive.

"To another great night," Anton said. "Charlotte was wonderful."

"Seats are sold out for tomorrow's performance as well," Geaston said.

"If you gentlemen are done toasting, we have business," the Opera ghost said, walking into the room. Anton and Geaston gasped, staring at the thing in front of them. "First, you owe me my sum. I expect it paid by tomorrow night, in my box. Second, tomorrow, Charlotte will not sing. Instead, you will place Josephine in her place. Do otherwise, and it will not end well for you."

"W-w-we're not paying you anymore," Geaston said. "We can run this Opera house without you."

"Not a wise choice," said the Opera ghost. "I suggest you reconsider."

"Never!" Geaston threw his wine at the creature. "Now, leave us. Go back to the hell you crawled out of!"

"Foolish, indeed." The Ghost threw a strange ball at Geaston and there was a spark. Geaston fell down dead. The Ghost tooked over at Anton.

"Your money will be in your box tomorrow night, and we will debut Josephine," Anton said. He was shaking so badly that he had to sit down.

"A wise choice," the Ghost said and left.

Conrad sighed, sitting down and letting his mind wander for a brief second. At least he'd managed to draw her back into a less awkward conversation. Though he was sure he'd have to fess up about the alien species thing. After all, most people looked at him oddly when he made that comment. And, unfortunately, Josephine didn't seem to be one of the few that knew of the existence of Time Lords...

"I said I was technically British," he said quietly. "If you want you literal birthplace, then that would be Galifrey... And my technical nationality is Time Lord. Which, technically, is an entirely different species than human. You and I just look the same. That's the main similarity..." he explained, folding his arms and looking about curiously.

"As for the tea, that would be great. Though, if I've completely freaked you out, you don't have to get me any tea. Actually, feel free to smack me with a frying pan right now. I've had an old Scottish woman do that... she thought I was another random person on drugs. Though after we got things straightened out, she had some interesting stories to tell..."

As he spoke, he felt a strange sense that he wasn't the only intergalactic traveller here... However, being that he was in an opera house, he shrugged the assumption off. However, he filed this premonition in the back of his brain in case he felt it once more. After all, his TARDIS probably wouldn't have just brought him here to see an opera...

Josephine's eyes widened slightly at his revelation. Most of it went over her head and, in true human fasion, only processed what she could comprehend. "Monsieur Conrad, I didn't know you were a Lord. My pardons." She dipped in a hasty curtsy. She never knew anyone of the nobel class. Oh, she had seen them. Some count was courting Charlotte and a duke was a fan of the opera, but she never actually met any of them. To have a Lord be a fan of hers was a great honor. She wasn't sure what position of nobility a Time Lord was, or where Galifrey was located, but it didn't matter.

She poured them both a cup of tea and sat down. "Would you prefer Monsieur Conrad or Lord Conrad? How did you enjoy the Opera. Wasn't Charlotte wonderful? I want to be a singer like her someday, but my teacher says I'm better. I think he's just flattering me. Charlotte doesn't like me very much and Madam Guiry - she's the stage mistress - says it's just jealousy. Charlotte doesn't like most people." Jospehine smiled slightly. "And, well, besides me, not many people like her personally. I adore her. Most of the time. Though someone tore up her flowers. They think it might be the ghost." She started to take a sip of her tea when she felt as if teh room got slightly colder. It always did that when her teacher was near-by. She should have sent Conrad on his way, but a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

Conrad raised a brow, relieved that this didn't send Josephine completely off the edge. As such, he swiftly followed as the conversation moved onwards. "You can keep calling me Monsieur Conrad," he said calmly, taking a sip of his tea.

"Anyway, I enjoyed the opera. I didn't exactly enjoy Charlotte, too high pitched. I don't think your teacher's only flattering you, you know. I think whoever your teacher is is being honest," he said with a grin. After taking another sip of his tea, he noticed the room getting colder. That can't be right... There shouldn't be that much difference in temperature in such short notice... he thought to himself.

"Speaking of your teacher, who exactly are they? I mean... what do they look like?" he inquired. He was starting to get the feeling that this 'teacher' was the reason why he had been brought into the opera.... Maybe this 'teacher' wasn't exactly completely normal... He was getting excited, though none but himself could tell. However, he normally enjoyed things like this. Logic puzzles and detective work were some of his favourite things...