All I want for Christmas
By: Sugar Princes
My shamefully late Christmas tale.
Disclaimer: Song 'All I want for Christmas' belongs to Mariah Carey, and Satine and all them belong to Baz. *weep weep*
Satine fixed her elfin hat, and straightened her green dress. She applied some more lipstick, smacking her lips to smear it, and observing the effect with pleasure in the mirror. She looked fantastic, and she knew it.
Christmas Eve at the Moulin Rouge was a big affair. That meant that everything had to be perfect, or else.
The dance hall was filled with mistletoe and stockings (filled with peppermint sticks and little chocolates), and decorated red and green, with flashing Christmas lights.
All of the dancers were out there, dancing to 'Jingle Bells', but Satine's big solo was coming up soon.
Or right now. The music was ending, and the applause was starting.
Patting her hair once last time, she climbed up the ladder in her heels. She smiled at the stage hands, then climbed up on her trapeze, putting her fingers around the bars which were wrapped with garlands. With a brief wave, she suddenly found herself being lowered.
Then she stopped, suspended above the crowd. She sought the man who was watching her, not the one with lust in his eyes, but the one with love.
The lights were dimmed, but she found him easily. Winking, she took a breath. She opened her mouth slowly, knowing she had everyone's attention.
"I don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree,"
She paused, drawing it out.
"I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true...
All I want for Christmas
Is you..."
The music built up, and the lights flared up, so quickly it was verging on violent.
Her trapeze started to lower, and all the lights were suddenly trained on her. She could see nothing but darkness beyond her, but she knew everyone was watching.
"I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you...
You baby."
Her trapeze started swinging above the crowd. The routine was the same, even if the song wasn't.
The men, per usual, reached out for her. She teased them, keeping just out of their reach. It was a metaphor for her life as well- she was right there in sight, but just out of reach.
She started swinging right in the middle, ready for them.
"I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click-"
The men swarmed around her, fighting to see who could get the closest to the beautiful Satine. Men emptied their wallets, searching for something worthy of the Sparkling Diamond. A man dangled a diamond choker in front of her. She snatched it and smiled.
"'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do
Baby all I want for Christmas is you
You..."
She shrugged the men off, frolicking amongst them. She kissed a few cheeks, allowed a few pinches and slaps, all with growing impatience. When would this song end.
Her smile never faltered, and she finally got to the platform where Ziedler, dressed as Santa was waiting.
"All the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing."
Satine jingled some sleighbells, as did the Diamond Dogs. The silver sound filled the air, momentarily drowning out the sound.
In that split second, Satine locked eyes with him. He watched her anxiously, ready to kill at a moments notice. She winked inconspicuously.
No one noticed but him.
The music roared back to life as the bells disappeared.
She went to Harold, who was sitting in a large chair and perched on his lap, crossing her ankles and placing her hands on his chest.
"Santa won't you bring me the one I really need -
won't you please bring my baby to me..."
Harold stroked his chin and ad-libbed. "Have you been a good girl this year?"
The audience laughed.
Satine batted her eyelashes at them, then back at Ziedler, nodding her head.
"Oh I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just want to see baby
Standing right outside my door."
She nodded again, searching the audience. Who would be perfect for this act?
"Oh I just want him for my own
More than you could ever know-"
She placed a dramatic hand on her forehead, kicking a leg up and leaning her head back. She held the position for a moment, before snapping back and touching her finger to Harold's nose.
"Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas is..."
Harold nodded, but Satine was gone. She was being carried away on the shoulders of the dancers in the direction she pointed in.
As much as she wanted to go to him, she couldn't. She knew it. So, breaking her own heart as well as her own, she pointed to a little boy-alright, young man, sitting at a table.
"You...
All I want for Christmas is you baby..."
The boy gaped and flopped his mouth open and shut a few times, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Satine smiled at him, and he blushed crimson.
"That's alright, isn't it?" she asked lightly. He nodded stupidly, stuttering "Y-yeth. Yeth."
Satine smiled a bit wider at his lisp. She shrugged, and then pointed up. "Look at that!" she said in a mock surprised voice. "We're under the mistletoe!"
The boy looked up, and when he looked back down, Satine leaned forward and kissed him. The audience roared at his surprised face.
She giggled softly, taking his hand and smiling a bright, fake smile. "Let's dance!"
~*~
She ran up the stairs. She couldn't wait another moment to see him.
She reached the door and threw it open. There he was.
He beamed at her, and she knew she did as well. She ran to him, and he caught her in his arms, picking her off the ground and spinning her around.
She giggled madly. He was such a fool. A dear, darling fool.
Her dear, darling fool.
"Merry Christmas." He whispered in her ear.
She pulled away. "Not yet."
He pointed to his watch, which read 12:02. He nodded. "Yes, it is."
She shrugged. "Merry Christmas."
She pulled out her present, cheerfully wrapped in red tissue paper. His face lit up as he tore the paper open.
It was a book of poems by Edgar Allen Poe.
"He's an American." Satine informed. Christian nodded, enthralled as he reverently opened it.
In Satine's beautiful penmanship was a note on the front cover
Christmas, 1899
To my darling Christian,
May this poet inspire my own
Love forever,
Satine
He looked up at her, eyes shining. "Oh, darling," was all he could manage as he gathered her into an embrace.
They stood there for a few minutes, just holding on to one another.
He finally pulled away, crossing over to his bedstand. He pulled out a package wrapped in a piece of golden satin, and tied with a darker gold bow.
"It's not much," he warned.
Satine pulled it out of his hands eagerly, but stopped at his words. She looked up at him, a sincere smile on her face. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. "It doesn't matter. All I want for Christmas is you."
"Those are song lyrics." He deadpanned.
"I know. Am I that obvious?" Not waiting for an answer, she untied the ribbon uncanny speed and pulled the material off.
There were two sheets of paper under it.
It was entitled, 'My love'. And it was a poem.
Satine looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.
"Great minds think alike." He offered.
Satine went over as he had a few minutes before and put her arms around him, trying to relay to him how she felt.
He started to chuckle. "Have you noticed were we are?" Satine looked to her left, to her right, and finally, up.
A tiny sprig of mistletoe was there.
"You know the tradition is that if two people stand under the mistletoe-" he started.
"They have to kiss." She finished. She gave him a devilish smile.
"My favorite tradition," he said, before capturing her lips with his.
When they had broken away, (not of choice, but of necessity- breathing is good) he had smiled at her with all the love one can put in a smile. "Merry Christmas, Satine."
"Merry Christmas, Christian."
And for her, it was.