*Dream a little dream of me*
By: Sugar Princess
Yay! Another songfic by SP! Someone stop me, I beg of you!
*Disclaimer*: No body but Jenny belongs to little old moi. The song 'I love Paris' belongs to Ella Fitzgerald, and the song 'Dream a little dream of me' belongs to the Mamas and the Papas.
*Dedication*: to my wonderful gals of the Red Room: Kara, Hannah, Celyn and Camie (I think that is the first time I've used their real names in ages!)
Christian felt guilty.
There he was, falling in love again.
He shouldn't.
No, no, no! he told himself. You love Satine!
Loving her won't make you love Satine any less, argued voice #2.
But Satine comes first.
And she still will! But now you can move on!
Christian fought stubbornly. No matter how sweet Jenny was, no matter what she felt for him, or what he felt for her, his heart was off-limits.
Jenny was a sweet girl of 17, with doe-like eyes and a hair as gold as honey. She was petite and fragile and nothing like Satine. She gave in where Satine would have fought, nodded where Satine would've argued, pratical where Satine was whimsical, whimsical where Satine was pratical. She couldn't sing a note, and she was as average as Satine had been glamorous.
How can you love women so different?
Christian tried to stay away from her, but with ever brush-off that Jenny took with a graceful bow of her head, every hidden tear that came from a sudden brusque remark on Christian's behalf, and every missed appointment that Jenny never brought up, drove the wedge that was opening Christian's heart once more.
After weeks of dancing around it, it boiled down to one thing: unless Satine sent Christian a 'sign', he couldn't- wouldn't- move on.
Christian set out an entire day. If Satine hadn't given him some sign to move on, he would- as ridiculous as it sounded- remain true to her.
And so, with some vague excuse to gentle Jenny, he spent the entire day wandering around Paris.
The morning found him in a little café where he had once bought them croissants and coffee for a breakfast. His breakfast came and was devoured without anything out of the ordinary.
After breakfast, he walked about the streets, admiring many little shops and stooping down to pet the little poodle on gold chains, pulled by stuff society ladies.
Nothing yet.
He went to the Louvre and looked at the famous paintings. He walked through le Pyramid du Louvre and came out refreshed.
Still no signs.
For lunch, he chose a small café by the Eiffel Tower. While most of the French people disliked the 'iron monstrosity', he had a strange affinity for it- partially due to Satine's favorism of it.
He climbed to the top, looking out on Paris. Somewhere, Jenny was being her sweet self. Somewhere, Harold Zidler was peddling girls (that seemed to be the only thing Christian could imagine him doing). Somewhere, Toulouse was painting in the great studio in the sky. Somewhere, Satine was singing to her heart's content. Somewhere in Montmartre rested her body.
That thought made his stomach lurch, and he slowly went back down the ground.
Nothing new.
He walked back to Montmartre, an exercise that took him to dinner, which he spent in another small café. His soup was served with the waiter's indifference. At the table besides him, a man proposed to his girlfriend. She accepted joyfully, crying. The entire café burst into applause. That, debatably, was a sign, but Christian refused to the accept it.
Nightfall found him wandering around the cemetery in Montmartre. He spent his remaining francs that were on him on some calla lilies, which he placed on Satine's grave.
"Darling," he said gravely. "I have asked you for a sign. Are you going to give me one before sunrise?"
He settled back against the tomb, leaning his back against the cool surface of the headstone. Nearby a tree bloomed with flowers that gave off an almost irresistible fragrance. It was springtime in Paris.
All at once, Christian remembered Satine singing a little song about Paris ... how did go again? He grasped for the tune, but eluded him until he started thinking about other things. "I love Paris in the spring time... I love Paris in the fall... I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles... I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles... I love Paris every moment... Every moment of the year... I love Paris, why oh why do I love Paris... Because my love is here..." he sang softly, remembering Satine's voice.
"Was that a sign?" he asked hopefully.
An owl hooted in response.
"Was that?"
Christian didn't know if minutes or hours had passed as he rested it his head against the stone. Walking all day had made Christian tired, and his fatigue began to take it's toll. He tried to remain awake.
His eyelids were just beginning to droop when there was a dazzling white light.
And Satine had come.
Christian struggled to escape the realm of sleep, but Morpheus kept a firm hold on the young man.
"Satine?" he mumbled softly.
There was a cool hand smoothing away the hair from his brow, and fixing his collar.
"Satine?" he asked again, desperately. He was trapped in the very nightmare he most feared: one where Satine was there, yet he could not see her. His hand sought hers out.
She gave it to him, smiling as he gripped it and brought it to his cheek.
She sat down besides him, and Christian, still caught in his dreamlike state, laid his head in her lap, clasping her hand and rubbing his face into the soft white folds of her dress.
"Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singin' in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me."
He still seemed agitated, and ran her free hand over his hair in a soothing motion.
He held her hand tighter, not wanting to let her go for fear she would leave. Satine felt her heart swell, and she bent down and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
Her eyes brimmed with tears that she could not wipe away without disturbing Christian. She opted to let them flow.
"Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me."
Christian had not relinquished his firm grip. Satine looked down at their entwined fingers, and another crystal dropped down off her face.
She loved him so much, and she childishly wanted to keep him for herself, even after all those years.
"Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this,"
She lifted her face and looked at the sky. She had forgotten how quickly Earth's time passed- the sun was just below the horizon. Already it's pinkish light was beginning to creep into the sky.
A decision would have to be made- and soon.
"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me."
She wanted him to be happy, that was all that mattered. His life, if any, deserved to be filled with sunshine and daisies.
She wanted to be happy too.
But she no longer mattered.
All that was important was Christian. What was best for him reigned omnipotent in Satine's mind, and as much as it pained her, she knew she had to let him go.
"Be happy." She whispered to him, brushing her lips against his ear.
She looked up; the sun was beginning to show in the sky. She had met Christian's deadline.
"Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this,"
She lifted her face to the sunlight, letting the cold grip of death leave her for just a minute as the sun warmed her face. She wanted to kiss Christian without lips that were cold with lifelessness.
"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be..."
She let him go, and slowly moved out from under him. Kneeling besides his sleeping form, she brushed her warm lips against his.
"I love you," she whispered. "And I want you to be happy with Jenny."
And then, she walked away, into the sunlight, her head held high.
Christian opened his eyes. The sun had just dawned.
Satine had met his deadline.
"Thank you, love." He whispered gratefully.
He looked around him. His back ached from sleeping on the ground- and oddly enough, the flowers he had gave Satine were missing.
He shrugged, and slowly stood up, stretching. He was lucky he hadn't been arrested for vagrancy.
He walked quickly as he left the cemetery, towards Jenny's flat. He had something very important to tell her.
Satine watched him as he left, clutching the bouquet he had given her. She inhaled their sweet smell, and, smiling as she touched her fingers to her still-warm lips, watched Christian's retreating figure.
"Dream a little dream of me."