No River Too Wide

by She's a Star

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to O Brilliant Bazziekins, who probably wouldn't like to be called that. *shrugs* Ya never know.

Author's Note: To Milla, Dia, and Storm, who are all absolutely nuts. AR. IS. NOT. SEXY.

Excuse me while I gag.

~*~

There were many ways that Christian would have enjoyed spending his Saturday afternoon. Writing, perhaps, or exploring Montmartre with Satine. Or doing anything with Satine, really.

Anything except this.

The Duke had popped into the dressing room earlier that day at a most inconvenient time (luckily, he didn't notice the vast amount of red lipstick that had somehow mysteriously transferred itself from Satine's mouth to Christian's) and proposed that they go boating down the Seine River.

"The writer could handle the oars!" the Duke had said delightedly, a bright smile contorting his rodent-like face. "What do you say, boy? You can paddle us down the Seine!"

"Oh, dear Duke," Satine had breathed at once, "Really, I would feel so incredibly guilty to leave when there's so much work to be done on the production. Much as I want to, I simply couldn't-"

"My sweet," the Duke cut in, resting a hand on her arm, "You're too selfless when it comes to this production. I insist that you take the day off."

"Fine," Satine sighed, a coquettish smile playing around the corners of scarlet lips. "I simply can't resist such a proposal, but we all know who will have to take the blame when I'm wretched on opening night."

"I assure you, my dear," smiled the Duke in a very rabbit-like fashion indeed, "You could never be wretched."

"You flatter me so," Satine purred, slipping her arm through the Duke's. "I'm being positively spoiled by all these compliments."

He chuckled and murmured something back, leaning too close to Satine for Christian to hear.

Yes, needless to say, Christian was not in favor of this little outing.

And yet here he was, sitting in this blasted boat and paddling through the water with all the force he possessed. Hot fury boiled through his veins.

The Duke was flashing the dreaded Bedroom Eyes at Satine, and Christian wanted nothing more than to rip those annoying little orbs of blue out of their sockets.

Satine sat aloof, posture perfect and clad in an extravagant dress. The Duke mumbled something to her, and a light smile of vague amusement lit up her features.

I swear, Christian thought angrily, I'm going to push him in. I'm going to push him into the stupid river.

But still, he kept on rowing like the good little writer slash picnic basket carrier slash slave that he apparently was.

Oh-so-suavely, the Duke began to attempt to remove one of Satine's black gloves.

...with his teeth.

She still sat perfectly still, gaze faced forward.

The glove didn't budge from her hand.

Giving a little snarl of impatience, he pulled again with more insistence. This only resulted, however, in his looking like a complete moron. A young couple going by on the next boat looked on, one wearing an expression of disgust and the other attempting to hold back laughter.

Satine's gaze fell to Christian, and she rolled her eyes, lightly cocking her head towards the Duke.

He nodded sympathetically.

'HELP!' she mouthed silently.

'I don't know what to do!' Christian mouthed back.

The Duke, completely absorbed in the (seemingly impossible) removal of the black lace glove, paid no attention.

'WE COULD PUSH HIM OUT OF THE BOAT,' Satine suggested silently, a devilish smile lighting up her face.

The Duke looked up, looking just the teeniest bit passionately annoyed.

"Did you say something, my dear?" he asked.

Satine put on the perfect mask of faint confusion. "No, Dear Duke."

"Ahhh, all right," he said, then resumed the all-impossible task.

'PUSH HIM OUT OF THE BOAT??' Christian repeated, holding back laughter.

Satine nodded vigorously.

'HOW?' Christian asked.

Another wicked smile appeared.

'You'll see,' she mouthed.

Christian shook his head in amusement, waiting for Satine's plan to take action.

The Duke was now pulling at Satine's glove with his teeth so violently that when she let it slip from her hand, he fell backwards onto the floor of the boat.

"Aaauuuurggghhh!" a strangled scream escaped his lips.

Satine, however, didn't look the least bit shocked. Instead, a smoldering-temptress smile not unlike the one that she'd donned on she and Christian's first meeting appeared on her face.

"Oh, Duke!" she cried dramatically, "I simply can't tease you any longer!"

And with that, she dropped down next to him in the boat, causing it to shake violently.

The people in the boat that had looked mildly interested earlier now were completely shocked, judging by the fact that their mouths were hanging open and their eyes were roughly the size of dinner plates.

"My...my dear," the Duke said with a nervous laugh, "Are you sure this is...appropriate?"

Satine ignored him.

"Free the tiger!" she shrieked.

Christian didn't bother to hold back his hysterical laughter, and he let the boat come to a rest as he shook with mirth.

God, she was insane.

The Duke now looked positively terrified.

"Dear, there are people around," he observed, voice much higher than usual. "Are you sure...?"

"Oh, Duke, I just know you feel the same way!" Satine purred. "Why hide it??"

"Satine, Satine, really," the Duke said. It was now officially an emergency; Christian had never heard him call Satine by her name before.

"No, dear Duke," Satine insisted. "I've been so cruel, to make you wait for so long-"

"NO!!!!" the Duke screamed. "I ORDER YOU TO GET OFF OF ME!"

Satine immediately fixed her expression into one of utmost hurt.

"Of...of course," she said sadly, rising and straightening her clothes. "What was I thinking??"

The Duke stood up as well, grunting a little.

"I..." Satine continued, a light sheen of tears shining in blue eyes. "I..."

She threw a wink in Christian's direction.

"I JUST CAN'T RESIST YOU!" she screeched, throwing her arms around the Duke. The boat rocked dangerously, and with a magnificent splash, the Duke plunged into the water...

...with Satine right behind him, arms entangled around his neck.

"Satine!" Christian shouted.

She rose up from out of the water, giggling hysterically. Her red curls hung in limp clumps around her face, and kohl streamed down her cheeks.

And naturally, she looked positively stunning.

Alas, the same could not be said for our poor, soaking wet Duke.

However, the writer wishes not to torture you with a description of his appearance.

"Writer!" he snapped, teeth chattering. He looked rather blue. "Writer, get me out of here!"

In times of emergency, he certainly put his beloved diamond before himself.

...not.

"Writer!" the Duke howled. "I command that you get me out of here!"

Christian instead opted to help Satine, who looked as though she would drown any moment, unable to keep herself out of the water due to her hysterical giggles.

"Are you all right, Mademoiselle?" Christian asked with a wink as he pulled her into the boat, causing it to rock violently.

"Yes, thank you, writer," Satine responded icily, a teasing smile on her face. She turned to see the Duke, an expression of practiced horror on her face.

"Oh, dear Duke!" she shrieked. "Writer, save him!"

"As you wish," Christian sighed reluctantly, rather enjoying the sight of the soaking Duke sputtering and fighting for dear life to keep himself afloat.

However, all good things had to come to the end.

"Get me out of here!" yelped the Duke. Christian grabbed his hand, keeping hold for a few seconds before 'accidentally' letting go and watching with satisfaction as the Duke splashed back into the river.

Yes, it had to end sooner or later, but would anyone really blame him if he opted for later??

And with Satine's merry laughter ringing in his ears as he repeatedly dropped the Duke into the water, he determined that the outing hadn't been as awful as he'd expected.

Actually, it had made quite a splash.

Literally.

Finito ;)