You Set Me Free

Disclaimer: I don't anything Moulin Rouge (Baz, you lucky, lucky man) and the song You Set Me Free belongs to Michelle Branch.

A/N: I hope you like this little story I thought up. Thank you for the help, Norah! Please read and review, but be nice. :)

"Now, that was wonderful, Satine," Harold Zidler praised Satine during rehearsal one day. "But, there were a few things that I noticed that will need work on. You were a bit off key on that song and you need to straighten your back and you need be more relaxed when you're being picked up..."

Satine sighed to herself. There's always something, she thought as Harold droned on and on.

"Got it, cherub?" Harold asked.

"Yes, Harold," she said. "I'll make sure I work on that."

"Excellent!" Harold bounded off to talk with the Duke.

Satine looked around and noticed no one was watching her. She silently slipped out of the Moulin Rouge and ran over to Christian's apartment.

She walked into his apartment to see Christian at his typewriter, his head in his hands.

"Christian!" Satine exclaimed. "Are you alright? How come you weren't at rehearsal today?"

Christian looked up and a smile formed on his face. "Hello, Satine. I'm sorry about that." He slipped the sheet of paper out of his typewriter. "Damn writer's block."

Satine smiled and walked over to him. "Let's see what you've got here."

Christian handed her the paper. "That's where the courtesan has to tell the sitar player that she doesn't love him anymore."

"Hmm," Satine said as she studied the paper. She took a pen from the table and scribbled some notes. "There, does this help?"

Christian read her notes aloud. "With you, I can't go on in my life. You can hold me back, you close the door in my face. The maharajah has given me the freedom to fly. The boundless opportunity to make something of my life. That is why I must leave you. You can offer me nothing." Christian looked up at Satine. "This is brilliant!"

"Really?" Satine said surprisingly.

He stood up and took Satine in his arms. "Really."

"Do you want to go have lunch?" Satine asked.

"Where would we go?"

"To the park! We could take some food and have a picnic!" Satine answered.

"That's sounds great," Christian said. "Toulouse will probably have some food upstairs."

* * *

A half an hour later, Christian and Satine were lying together in the shade of a willow tree.

"You know," Christian said as he bit into an apple. "The production of this play is so fun, but...in a way, I can't wait for it to be over."

Satine sighed and cuddled closer to Christian. "Yeah, talk about it."

Christian looked up into the willow tree. "Look!"

Satine turned around. "What?"

"Up there!" Christian pointed to a branch that was about 4 feet from the ground. "We could climb up there and that would be a perfect place to sit. See the way the branches are twisted?"

"You mean we're going to climb up there?" Satine asked.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to," Christian lifted his leg onto one of the lower branches and stepped onto it.

"I couldn't do that in this dress!" Satine cried.

"Then I'll just have fun by myself!" teased Christian as he settled himself on a branch.

"Ugh," Satine sighed. "I'm coming."

Christian grinned as he watched Satine struggle up to the branch. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine," called Satine as her foot slipped on a branch. She pulled herself up to the next branch, but her arms collapsed and she ended up on the ground again. Satine cursed in frustration.

Christian reached down his hand and Satine accepted it with a sigh.

"I made it!" she said triumphantly as she sat next to Christian on the branch.

"I'm so proud of you," Christian lightly pinched her cheek, like his grandmother would do to him during Christmas holiday. "Climbing your first tree!

Satine laughed as she swung her legs freely. She looked at Christian who was unable to stop smiling widely and tears formed in her eyes.

Christian took her hand. "What's the matter?"

"Can't you see?" Satine scooted closer to Christian. "There's a feeling that's come over me. You're the only one that leaves me completely breathless."

If possible, Christian's grin got wider as he wrapped his arms around her.

"'Cause I wanted to fly so you gave me your wings," Satine sang. "And time held its breath so I could see." She rested her head on Christian's shoulder. "And you set me free."

"There's a will," Christian whispered. "There's a way. Sometimes words just can't explain."

"You're in my heart," Satine squeezed his hand. "The only light that shines there in the dark." She let go of his hand and moved to the end of the branch. "'Cause I wanted to fly!" She jumped off, Christian quickly behind her.

Satine turned around and kissed him. "So you gave me your wings and time held its breath so I could see...and you set me free."

"When I was alone," Satine said as she started packing up the picnic basket. "You came around."

"When I was down," Christian picked up the basket from the ground. "You pulled me through. And there's nothing that –"

"I wouldn't do for you!" Satine joined in. She grabbed Christian's hand and started running to the entrance of Montmartre. "'Cause I wanted to fly so you gave me your wings!"

They quickly reached the Moulin Rouge. People were standing outside eating their lunches, so Christian and Satine quickly dropped hands.

"And time held its breath so I could see," Satine whispered under her breath.

"Satine! Satine!" She turned around to see Harold standing at the entrance of the Moulin Rouge. "We need to go over those scenes! Come on, you're late!"

Satine sighed. "Coming!"

She turned to Christian – he was looking at her with sad eyes.

Satine quickly squeezed his hand and whispered. "You set me free."