Dedicated to my Nana, Winfred Austin. From 3rd July 1909 – 2nd August 2002. She was 93 years old.

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to Baz Luhrman. (Did I spell that right?) Anyway keep reading past this point it could be good.

A/N Most of this writing was written in boring (zzzzzz) Japanese, Science and English classes. No, I didn't get in trouble, I am going to fail Japanese (well, duh I fell asleep in one of the classes) and have to repeat, but I don't care about that right now. It has no point to it unless I am planning on being an airhostess or go to the country. I am going to pass science with flying colours (though I was this close to falling asleep:-)) in English I almost got sent to Detention for writing this without telling the teacher that I had finished my work. But I didn't. It was typed up in the school library and my 3x a week computer class. Enough of my endless rambling on about things you probably didn't want to know, and certainly don't need to know. I have to get a laptop. $2500 at the least. Hint, hint mum and dad!!!:-)

Yet another authors note: but this time you need to know this. Christians father is younger in my story that in the movie. Okay? Got that? Good.

Home- The lamest title this side of Australia. Read anyway, the content is good.

"You're a song, written by the hands of god . . ."

Satine pirouetted on the slowly on the spot while singing to the imaginary music she played in her head.

" . . . Don't get me wrong, 'cause this might sound to you a bit odd . . ."

As she spun, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the dresser in the corner of Christian's room. Her hair was in complete disarray and her eye make-up and lipstick was smudged – no doubt on Christian as well. A smile played across her lips as she remembered the night's actions.

" . . . But you own the place . . ."

She giggled at the image she concocted in her mind of Christian walking into the pasterie, stares following him all the way to the counter. She sat down on a chair and started wiping away her smudged mascara. She sincerely hoped that Christian remembered to wash his face and neck, before going out in public.

" . . .Where all my thoughts go hiding . . ."

That morning, Satine woke up to an empty bed. She worried for a moment, but then she saw the note Christian had left her.

Dearest Satine, the note said.

I have gone down to the oh-so-frequently visited pasterie down the road. I do hope we haven't run them out of stock. I'll be back soon, I promise. I love you, from Christian.

" . . .And right underneath your clothes, is where I find them. Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story . . ."

Satine had no idea how long Christian had been gone for. She picked up her trusted hairbrush and began to attack her tangled hair, slowly working out the knots one by one.

" . . . There's the man I chose, there's my territory. And all the things that I deserve, for being such a good girl . . ."

" . . .Honey!" Christian's tenor voice joined Satine's in perfect harmony.

"Christian!" Satine shrieked, jumping backwards and almost knocking over the chair. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! Which wouldn't be too good right now, I have to give that performance tonight!"

"Aaah," Christian said, putting on the best serious face he could and setting the pastries on the dresser. "That's just it you see."

"See what?" she asked suspiciously.

"I," he paused dramatically, "just went and had a little talk with Harold Zidler. Which resulted in him giving you three weeks vacation."

Satine's eyes went wide and a smile spread across her face. "Are you serious?" she practically yelled.

He held up two train tickets. "Yep. And we are going to my home back in England to visit my family," he paused. "But, if you don't want to, I can invite Toulouse, the Argentinean or Satie along instead."

"Of course I want to come an meet your family! Don't be an idiot!" she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I've been wanting to for ages!"

He grinned at her and handed her a croissant after she had unlatched herself from around his neck. "Satie is needed for the piano playing for a while anyway. Nobody can fill in for him. They're all on sick leave." Satine rolled her eyes and bit into her croissant. "When are we leaving?" he wrapped his strong arms around her slim waist and hugged her tight. He kissed his way up the side of her neck and the pastries were forgotten.

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

That afternoon, as Satine and Christian were making last minute preparations, the Bohemians dropped through the hole in the roof they had made weeks earlier.

"We will write a letter telling you when we are coming to England, most likely in one week when we have the chance to," the Argentinean said, and then winked slyly at Christian with a big grin on his face, who winked back.

A moment later, when they had all disappeared upstairs again and Satine could hear the piano start to play, she folded the last of Christian's shirts and looked over at him.

"What was that all about?" she asked him, narrowing her sparkling blue eyes.

"What was what all about?" he asked distractedly, searching through his pockets.

"The wink, idiot, the wink!"

He blinked rapidly. "What wink?"

Satine rolled her eye and grabbed onto his arm. "Never mind. Now come on, we're going to be late."

Christian slipped his hand into his coat pocket, felt what he was looking for, and buttoned his coat pocket up tight as to not lose it. He walked quickly towards the door, checking his wristwatch on the way.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he heard from the behind him.

"No, I don't think so. Why?" Christian answered, puzzled.

She pointed behind her to his sorry excuse for a desk. "Your typewriter."

The brightness in his eyes faded to a dull grey. "Don't be silly," he said dejectedly. "I sold it to a pawner, remember?"

"I got it back for you. I figured you couldn't live much longer without it, so I gave Toulouse enough money to buy it back."

"You didn't!" he looked over at his desk, and what he saw through his eyes confirmed what she was blabbering on about.

"I did!" she answered him; with the biggest smile she could manage.

He took a giant step over to her, picked her up and swung her around. "Thank-you! But," he set her back down. "I have a much better way to thank you later on," he whispered in her ear.

"I'll be looking forward to it," she whispered back. "But now we have to go."

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

They got to the train station just as the train was about to leave. They piled all of their bags, not that there was that many, onto the porter and took them to the storage compartments.

"You be careful with those!" Satine yelled at his retreating back.

Christian looked at their tickets and led Satine up to their cabin that they were in for the trip. Christian opened the door and took a look inside. Almost as soon as he went in, he came straight back out again. "What's wrong?" Satine asked, putting a hand on his arm. "There is a man in there smoking," he answered her. A frown creased his forehead. "I must've gotten a cabin with somebody else by mistake." She paused and thought for a moment. "We'll survive. I grew up in the Moulin Rouge, remember? And you lived with a hole in your ceiling." A woman with jet-black curly hair walked past with a disgusted look on her face. "Hookers!" Christian heard her say as she went past. Satine glared at her until she turned into her cabin.

"That will be over the whole train by the time we get to our stop," Satine muttered under her breath.

"Don't worry. We'll live through it. Just as we're about to live through a smoke-filled cabin."

They took a deep breath, stepped through the door and – the man wasn't smoking.

"Good evening, young lady and Gent. My name's Mark." He held out his hand to them. "Sorry about the smoke before. I only smoke when I'm nervous."

"Why would you be nervous?" Christian asked.

"Oh, no reason. I just get nervous sometimes."

"Pleased to meet you, um," Satine said, shaking his hand.

"Mark," the man reminded them, as the conductor came through to collect their tickets, then shook Christian's hand. "If you wouldn't mind me knowing, would you care to tell me your names?" he suggested.

"Oh, sorry! I forget myself. Christian Jones and," he put his arm around Satine's shoulders. "My girlfriend, Satine Desmerger."

"Pleased to meet you both," Mark said. "Well, must be going. I promised to meet my wife in the dining carriage for dinner."

After he had left for the dining carriage, Satine took her lipstick from the bag of necessities and applied it carefully to her lips, looking in the small mirror in the train cabin. It had grunge all in the corners and she could only just see. She undid her hair from the French braid and it fell in long red waves around her face. "Well," she said to Christian, who was staring at her. "Are we ready for dinner?" He nodded wordlessly, and they both walked out of the door and went in the same direction Mark had taken. They walked past the woman with the black hair's door, which opened as they went past. The woman came out. She turned and glowered at Christian and Satine.

Christian stepped forward. "Madame, why – " he got cut off by another, if possible, more so, icy glare. "Let me tell you something, sonny. My husband ran off with a whore," she spat out the word 'whore' like she just drank curdled milk, as she looked at Satine. "I don't have a clue where Jonathon ended up, and I certainly don't care where that cancan dancer ended up, but now, I've given my opinion. Now I ask you to stay away from me." She said all this without taking a breath then turned and stalked up the aisle to the dining car. Christian stared after her, dumbfounded.

"I love you, Christian. Remember that. I love you and only you. Come what may," she sang softly in his ear. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck. "I know," he answered, turning around and kissing her on her red lips. "I'm just wondering how one woman can say so much without taking a breath."

She laughed and tugged on his arm. "We're taught by our ever-so-patient mothers, though I learned from Marie."

"Oh?" Christian asked, eyebrow raised. "And what exactly did she teach you?"

Satine slapped him on the arm. "Never you mind. It did come in handy though, now I think of it," she joked. "I'm starving. Maybe we could go and get dinner now?"

"I've never seen anybody eat so much, without gaining a pound. But I must admit, I am a little hungry . . . " he trailed off, looking up the corridor.

They finally arrived at the dining car. As they entered, a few people turned to stare at them. One woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and beautiful olive skin, turned to her husband and whispered in his ear, "it's that prostitute Shirley told us about. Red hair, red lipstick, blue eyes, it's got to be her."

Unfortunately, the only empty table was right next to the woman with the black curly hair. Shirley, Christian was guessing her name was, as she was really the only person who could have told the olive-skinned lady. Him and Satine decided to completely ignore her and keep to their own conversation.

"So, what's your family like?" Satine asked, taking a bite of her salad.

"Well, my father doesn't seem to like me very much. He didn't want me to go to France and be a writer. He tried everything in his power to keep me from going to France, from threats to pleading, but nothing worked. I had my entire being set on writing about love in a place he called 'a place of sin.' Montmarte. And if I had given in to him, I wouldn't be here with you right now. He might be a bit grouchy towards you at first, but I think he'll like you."

"Yeah before we tell him that I was a hooker."She leaned over the table suppressing a shudder. "And I would be with that rodent – oops! I meant the Duke right now." She sat back and took another bite. "You mentioned a brother and sister. What are they like?" she said in interest and curiosity.

"My sister is seventeen years old. She has always been my favourite. She is most like me I think. She loves to read and write poetry, much to fathers dislike. Sometimes I'd send her my stories and poems for her to read, but she never wrote back. I think father stopped her," he said wistfully.

"If she's even the least bit like you, I'll love her. But don't worry, we'll be seeing her in a few hours," she said, coming around the table and sitting next to him. "Tell me about your brother."

"He's like father. Hard working. Boring. Doesn't believe a cent in truth, beauty, freedom and love. The bohemians aren't going to like him much."

Satine put her long legs over Christians lap. "Sounds like an interesting …um… person," she said sarcastically.

"Would you refrain from speaking conversations that will offend us," Shirley called from the next table over.

Satine glanced in her direction, and then turned back to Christian. "We have an audience," she whispered in his ear. "Play along," she said, and then suddenly kissed him passionately on the lips. Christian was almost surprised, but not quite. He slid hands under the back of her shirt to rest on the small of her back and kissed her back. Shirley obviously felt she couldn't take anymore so she got up and left the dining car.

A few people turned to stare at Christian and Satine. Satine slid off Christians lap, stood up and put her acting skills to work. "Don't mind us. I'm not a hooker, nor was I ever. My mother worked in the Moulin Rouge as a seamstress and I took over her job when her arthritis got too bad."

"We're just going to London to see my family," Christian added as an afterthought. Everybody accepted this and turned back to their dinner. Satine sat back down next to Christian and said in a charming voice, not sarcastically, "well, that went well."

"Yeah. Lets hope nobody recognised the 'Sparkling Diamond.'"

"Nah. Nobody would recognise me without that glittering corset, garter, a lot of make up and singing 'Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend.'"

"Kind of a good thing if you look at it from my point of view." He kissed the tip of her nose and she giggled and gave him an almost-not-there kiss on the corner of his mouth while running her fingers through his hair.

"They're so much in love and look so happy together," a tall, wide shouldered Frenchman said to his wife, who was small and petite with mousy, straight hair. Why do big men always seem to marry small women?

"Yes," she said back to him. "She can't be a whore. They sell their love to any man with 200francs in their pocket, not actually fall in love like that!"

|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|

After they had eaten their dinner. Satine and Christian went back to the cabin they shared with Mark. He was in there with his wife, playing cards. "Do you want to join us?" he asked as they got to the door. "Plenty of room for all."

They played long into the night and when they finished their sixth game, it was nearly daylight. They only had a couple more hours until they boarded the ferry so Satine curled up into Christian's side and went to sleep as they were waiting for the train to pull into the station. He stroked her hair and soon fell asleep with her.

An hour later, Satine and Christian sat bolt upright when they heard the train whistle blow.

"Dear Lord! That must've been right outside our window, it was so loud!" Satine shrieked as she nearly fell off Christians lap in surprise.

"Actually, it's at the station a couple of meters up from here," Mark said, from the doorway, putting on his hat. "We were going to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn't, though my wife here wanted to throw a bucket of cold water over you if you didn't wake up before the bell."

Satine yawned and sat up again. "We came from Montmarte. Nobody there is awake before midday."

"I guess we just found that out then," said Marks wife, coming into the cabin and starting to sort things out. "Now, I never told you my name, did I? Well anyway, it's Danielle. Pleased to meet you."

Within five minutes, they were out of the train and whom should they bump into but Shirley. She was about to move quickly away from them, but Satine spoke before she could move.

"Madame Shirley, we are extremely sorry to hear about your husband. But, if he ran off with a whore, you are obviously too good for him. He's most likely to be living on the streets by now. He wouldn't be be with a hooker. Hookers sell their love to men. When he ran out of money, she goes to the next guy. Simple, just ditches him." She paused a while to take a breath then went on. "I was a hooker, whore, prostitute, anything you want to call me. In fact, I was the 'Sparkling diamond,' courtesan, the best of the best. Men would practically pay anything to sleep with me. Until I met Christian here. He taught me how to love, for real. Now you, you should forget Jonathon or whatever his name was for a while and settle down together. Live a happy life. Anyway, we have got to go, we are about to miss our ferry."

Shirley stared wordlessly after them as they walked away from th3 station. "Well, I never knew a whore would be so nice," she said to herself. She blinked then picked up her bags to get to the next ferry, then to get a cab to the Jones' manor.

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

Four hours later, Satine and Christian descended the boarding ramp and set foot in England. Satine had been sleeping almost the whole time. She just found out she gets seasick. They had yet another train to catch before they got to London. They almost forgot to collect their bags off the ferry, but remembered just in time.

The trip to London was uneventful. Until they got there, that is. It was raining as they stepped off the train. Water was running out of the gutters and Christian pushed Satine out of the way, just in time to get a bucket load of water dumped all over him instead. Satine burst out in peals of laughter, a sound Christian fell in love with when he met her.

"What are you staring at?" he said to her indignantly, while squeezing the water out of his hat.

"Oh…nothing," she answered, turning towards the exit, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"I did push you out of the way," he said as he caught up with her near the entrance. She leaned over, careful not to touch him, and kissed him on the cheek. "And I'm very grateful," she said, just before he pulled her to him and hugged her tight. "Now, you're wet too," he said triumphantly. She stood, speechless for a minute, and then looked at them both. "People must be staring," she said, collapsing onto a park bench and bursting into laughter.

"Come on," he said, pulling her up by the hand. "Or we won't get there before dinner.

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

"Did you ever wonder why people look so much like their pets?" Satine asked, pointing out a tall lady, with flowing robes and white curly hair as she walked past with a poodle.

The rain had stopped, leaving them to walk freely to Christians home after the carriage had dropped them off. "Yeah," he answered with a smile creeping across his face. "I wouldn't be surprised if the Duke bred rats as a little boy." Satine laughed and a few people across the street stared. But Satine was used to people staring at her. So she just waved and smiled at them.

They walked on in silence for a few metres then turned into the long drive. They walked up to the front door and Christian reached up and pulled the bell, after he had put down his bags. Satine had insisted on carrying her own.

Bruce, the butler, opened the door. "How may I – Master Christian!"

"Just call me Christian," he reminded Bruce of the agreement they had before he left for France.

"Christian! It's wonderful to see you again! Young Stephanie will be delighted to see you." He paused a minute to take a breath. "What am I saying? Come in, come in, you shouldn't be knocking on the door of your own home. Let me take your bags."

He took Christian and Satine's bags upstairs.

"Who were you talking to Mr. Wayne?" Satine could hear a young woman's voice upstairs.

"Master Christian and a very beautiful redhead. I didn't catch her name."

STEPH by authors P.O.V.

'Must be the Satine Christian wrote to me about,' she thought excitedly. She ran downstairs, picking up her skirts. When she got to Christian, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"Christian! You came home! And you brought Satine with you!"

Satine stood off to the side, looking confused. Christian disentangled her arms from around his neck and proceeded to introduce them. "Satine, this is my little sister Stephanie." He emphasised the word 'little' to result in Stephanie glaring at him.

"I'm seventeen," she said to Satine. "Don't mind my brothers weird humour."

"And Steph, this is Satine. I wrote to you about her remember?"

"Of course I remember. You only mentioned her in every letter you sent home, which I wasn't allowed to write back to."

They all heard the door open. "Stephanie, George? I'm back," a woman's voice called from the front door.

"Stephanie Jones! Are you there?" she called again.

"Who's that? Christian hissed at Stephanie. Satine turned around, and before Stephanie could answer, she recognised her.

"Hello Shirley. Good to have you back from France. Is your brother well?" Stephanie called back.

"Yes dear, he's fine." She was staring at Satine.

'Please don't say anything…please don't say anything…' Christian recited in his head like a mantra.

"Aren't you that girl who gave me that speech at the station. How?"

"Sorry Shirley," Christian cut in. "I am Christian Jones and this," he gestured to Satine, "Is Satine Desmergers. How come you're here?"

"I'm…err…with George, and I'm organising this years party." She paused a while, then looked at them both. "I won't say anything to him okay?"

Satine visibly relaxed and the tension in the room lifted as though the clouds all disappeared from the say. Christian almost fainted with relief.

Christian, still a little dizzy, pulled Satine up to his room. "Christian," Stephanie yelled upstairs. "Satine is in the room on the left."

Satine and Christian smiled at each other and went into their assigned bedrooms: Christian in his old room and Satine on the room on the left, which was far up the hall.

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

"You're late," George said when they walked into the dining room half an hour late.

"Hello to you too father," Christian said sarcastically. Stephanie leaned over to him. "He is glad to see you back. He is just too proud to show it."

George had been looking Satine up and down with approval. She had dressed in a simple blue dress and her hair was up. "And who is this young lady you've brought home from France?" George asked, finally taking some interest in Satine and Christian.

"Father, this is Satine Desmergers and Satine, this is my father, George Jones," Christian said.

"Pleased to meet you finally, Mr. Jones," Satine said politely.

"Finally?" George asked.

"Christian has told me about you and the rest of his family," she answered.

"Which reminds me, father. Where is Joseph?" Christian cut in.

"He is needed at Bells. There is a problem somewhere or other, but he didn't give much detail."

Satine's eyes went wide and George and Christian looked over at her with concern. "Are you all right?" George asked at the same time Christian said: "Are you all right love?"

Satine looked at both of them and said, "Fine, just choked a bit on my water." She gave a little cough to help along the façade. She looked hard at Christian and mouthed, 'I'll tell you later,' at him.

Soon everyone except Christian, Satine and Stephanie forgot all.

"So tell me," Christians father said with the least bit of curiosity. "How and when did you two meet?"

Satine and Christian glanced at each other. It did not go unnoticed by Stephanie. ' He didn't tell me all about her. Like when and how they met, for example.' Stephanie thought. "Yes," she said. "How did you two meet?"

"Well," Christian said. "She lived across the road from me and we always used to eat at the same restaurant. We got talking one day and this is how we ended up."

It wasn't totally a lie. They did always end up in the same restaurant, but that wasn't how they met. George believed this and went back to his potatoes. Shirley had been shooting glances at Christian all through dinner. She was keeping to her promise before that she wouldn't say anything.

After they had finished eating, they said goodnight to Shirley who then disappeared with George somewhere. Somewhere they really didn't want to know.

They went upstairs to the bathroom, which had a leaky tap, washed and cleaned their teeth then headed off to their rightful bedrooms. But before they could go anywhere, Stephanie pulled them into her bedroom and glared at Christian. "Christian, you are an awful liar. You're lucky father didn't notice. How did you two really meet?"

Christian and Satine glanced at each other again. "Well," they said simultaneously. "We met through the Moulin Rouge."

"I was the courtesan there," said Satine. "And Toulouse, the Argentinean and Satie passed Christian off as a famous English writer, only I mistook him for the Duke and proceeded to seduce him in the red room where I gave him quite a bit of inspiration." Christian turned scarlet at this remark. "Anyway," she went on. "We sorted things out after the real Duke had left, but I fainted, which left Christian in a very suggestive position when who should come back, but the Duke. Luckily at that moment, I woke up and said we were rehearsing for 'Spectacular, Spectacular' which is the play Christian wrote." She took a breath and Christian went on:

"Well that night I snuck up behind her on top of the elephant and scared her half out of her wits. We just fell in love. Though if it weren't for the Argentinean falling through my roof and Toulouse who came in my door dressed as a nun, I never would have met her."

Stephanie was staring at them. "Do you mean 'Toulouse Lautrec', the artist?"

"Yes," said Christian.

"Oh, my gosh!!" she exclaimed. "I have one of his paintings. It's called the 'Green Fairy'" She pointed to her wall. "You actually knew him? He's one of my favourites!"

Christian was thinking back to when he had first met the Green Fairy. Now that was the strongest green liquor he had ever drunk.

Stephanie was asking Satine another question. "What was it that you chocked over at dinner?"

Satine smiled. "Well, you know where your brother works? Bells?" Stephanie nodded. "Well, that isn't actually an engineering facility. That is just a disguise. It's actually a secret whorehouse. Nini used to work there until she moved to France." This time it was Christian's turn to choke.

"Actually," she continued. "I can't believe she would betray me like that."

"Why? What did she do?" Stephanie asked.

"Well, when Christian finished the play, it turned out he courtesan went to the penniless sitar player instead of the evil maharaja. So Nini went up behind the Duke –" she shuddered. "—And said 'this endings silly. Why would the courtesan go to the penniless writer? Oops! I meant the sitar player.' That gave away Christian and me to the rodent, I mean the Duke. But now he's gone and we can do pretty much what we want."

Stephanie was listening to all of this intently. She looked over at the clock on her bedroom wall and saw it was getting late. She gasped and told Satine and Christian to get out of her room and get into their own. With an emphasis on the word 'own'. Although she knew it wouldn't last that long.

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

Two days passed, and Shirley's preparations for the party were going wonderfully. She let Stephanie help her with the food side of things. She also kept her promise, and hadn't told George that Satine used to be a hooker.

One time, when Satine was helping Stephanie with her dress, Christian went and had a little chat with Shirley.

"Yes?" she enquired as he sat down opposite her while she was sorting out the replies to her invitations into a list of who was coming and who wasn't.

"I was wondering," he began. "If you could fit me in on stage about three quarters through the party? I have something big planned."

Shirley was doubtful at first. "What kind of 'big'?"

Christian glanced around the room as if to check that no one was listening. "Well," he said slowly. "This kind of big." He pulled out a dark green box from his pocket and handed it to Shirley. She took it from his hand and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful ruby on a gold band set with diamonds she had ever seen. "I thought it would symbolize our love in a more special way because she lived around diamonds and the ruby fro when she was sick and our love survived through it all."

Shirley wiped a tear from her eye. "I think it is beautiful. No need to worry. You will have the whole stage to yourself and she will absolutely love it!" she exclaimed. "You're going to? On stage? In front of everyone? That's so romantic!"

Christian smiled and took back the ring. "Yes, along with something else. But nobody knows what it is yet except me and no-one is going to find out until tomorrow night at the party." He turned and walked out of the room with a happy look on his face.

Shirley looked after him and thought: 'why is he being so trusting and nice to me after how I treated them? Until that lovely – I suppose that is what she is – girl gave me that speech at the station. I do wish I hadn't been so heartless. I've met someone other than Jonathon now anyway.'

*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*

There was only one hour left until the Jones annual party began. Shirley was running around making extreme last minute preparations. Satine was fixing up her own dress while at the same time was helping Stephanie with hers.

Christian was in hi sown room fixing himself up. He had no idea what Satine would look like when she had finished. She had a knack for looking slightly different every time he saw her, although she always wore the same shade of red lipstick. He reached for the comb he had put on his desk and tried to smooth out his rather unruly reddish-brown hair. His hair just wouldn't behave, so he gave up and just left it how it was. On that desk he had set his familiar black typewriter on which he had tried – and succeeded – to write. He had written this poem over a number of days:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep,

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain,

I am the shining star at night,

When you awake to the morning light.

My time has come, I am at rest,

I am the sunset in the West,

I am the clouds that race above,

Where I watch over those I love.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there, I do not die,

So hear these words that here I say,

I am the love that guides your way.

It had come to him in a dream one night when Satine had sneaked into his room when no one was around. There were so many memories of his mother around this house, that he couldn't stop thinking about her. When the sun rose in the morning, he walked over to his typewriter and wrote what his mother would be telling him if she were alive. She would not want them to cry over her as she was still living on in nature. In the grass we walk on, in the air we breathe and the sunlight that brightens our days.

* * *

Satine looked in the mirror when there was a half an hour left. Some of the guests had arrived at the town hall. She added a little more eyeliner and lipstick, then she was done.

"Satine, you look absolutely gorgeous! Where on Earth did you get that dress?"

Satine looked surprised at her comment. Not many people had told her she was gorgeous meaning it from their hearts. The many men she had slept with had only called her gorgeous out of lust. Other than Christian, of course.

"It was a gift from Harold for my birthday," she explained to Stephanie. "I had also just given one of the best performances I had ever given. That was, until I fainted and fell off the swing I come down on."

"Ooh," she winced. "Did you get hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"I don't think so. A man caught me and took me into my dressing room. At least, that's what Marie told me."

She paused a while, a smile fluttered across her face, then Stephanie cleared her throat. "Oh! Sorry! I just zoned out for a while. That was also the night I met your brother."

Stephanie smiled at her. "You two make the nicest couple you know that?"

"Thank-you," she replied. "But we better get going, or else we'll be late."

* * *

Christian's eyes had been locked onto Satine the entire evening. It was now nine p.m. Stephanie was dancing with a young man she was close to. Then the music got a little faster. Christian spun Satine out on his arm then back and dipped her down. (A/N I wouldn't have a clue how to dance, so don't pay me out if I got it wrong) "It's almost like a repeat of our first dance," Satine said.

"Yeah, except you aren't wearing that glittery corset and those feathers," he said. He almost drooled as he remembered.

"You did like me in that number. Come on, admit it. You were glad to be dancing with me that night, even though you looked like you couldn't dance at all."

"Oh, stop teasing me. I was nervous. What would you feel like if you were me, dancing with the most beautiful woman in the universe?" he said teasingly.

She smiled as they continued dancing and said no more.

As the night went on, Christian turned to Satine, not that he was already facing her. "Go back to our table, I'll be back." Then he went in the opposite direction. Satine walked back to the table they shared with Stephanie and her friend Paul.

"Do you know what he is planning?" she asked her. Stephanie and Paul were already seated at the table, sipping the one glass of champagne they were allowed.

Stephanie shook her head. "Nope, sorry."

A minute later, the band stopped playing. Everybody stopped dancing and looked towards the small stage situated near the front of the hall.

One of the band members stepped up to the front of the stage. "I am sorry for any inconvenience, but there is a special performance tonight. And he has requested you all to return to your seats."

Everybody went back to his or her tables, which were placed around the hall. There was a big space up the front for dancing. Stephanie, Satine and Paul were seated up near the front. Everybody turned to look at the stage expectantly.

A spotlight turned onto where the band member had previously been standing and Christian stepped up from the shadows. He looked out over the crowd and he seemed to stare right into Satine's soul. He cleared his throat. "This is for someone very special to me, and it has a special meaning to the both of us." He stared right at her again and opened his mouth:

"Never knew I could feel like this,

Like I've never seen the sky before,

Want to furnish inside your kiss,

Everyday I love you more and more."

He nodded ever so slightly at Satine when she gave him a questioning look. She stood up and sang along to the words she knew so well.

"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?

Telling me to give you everything,

Seasons may change from winter to spring,

But I love you, until the end of time."

Most of the people in the hall looked around to find where the woman's voice was coming from. A second spotlight turned onto her and she blinked. The lights of the hall were dimmed so Christian was illuminated more.

"Come what may."

Stephanie looked up at Satine standing next to her. She knew she was good, but she didn't think she was this good. And this wasn't even one of her big performances.

"Come what may,

I will love you."

The hall was transfixed. No one expected this and no one knew of course about it except for Shirley.

"Until my dying day.

Suddenly the world seems like such a perfect place,

Suddenly it moves with such perfect grace."

He motioned to her to come up onto the stage. She complied and was soon standing next to him.

"Suddenly my life doesn't seem like such a waste,

It all revolves around you."

Christian put his hand in his pocket.

"Come what may."

He took the box out.

"Come what may,

I will love you, until my dying day."

He went down on one knee and held up the box. "Satine," he began nervously. "Will you give me the honour, of becoming my wife? I promise you, until the end of time, I will love you."

Satine almost fainted but she caught herself just in time. Everyone was silent waiting for her answer. They did not have to wait long.

"Oh, my, God! Yes, yes I will! Of course I will!"

Christian jumped up and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back. The hall rang with applause and Stephanie was hugging Paul. When they had to come apart for air, he took the box, opened it, and slipped the ruby ring on her finger. They kissed again, and the party resumed as normal, though everyone was talking about them. Satine and Christian stayed on the stage, just in each other's arms. They soon went down to dance again. They danced until the end, which was about midnight.

After they had packed up, they went home and collapsed into bed.

Nobody was stopping Satine from sharing with Christian this time.

* * *

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Well, if you want a sequel, ask for it!

I had great enjoyment in writing this story and I hope you had nearly as much reading it! Please review! I need to know what you think.

None of the songs or poems used belongs to me.

Underneath your Clothes – Shakira

Do not Stand at my Grave – Author unknown. It was said at my great grandmother's funeral. It has great meaning to all of my family.

Come What May – I can't believe this, but I can't remember who wrote it!

::Yawns:: sorry guys, it is 10:20 p.m. and I have been writing for about two hours straight. Goodnight guys!

Please, please review! I may not be updating any time soon. But maybe I will, I don't know. I have got a Card Captor Sakura fic stuck in my head and I'm writing that at the moment. ^_^ so kawaii!

Aaaaanyway, please review, even if you hate it a lot, please review anyway!