*Title: The Beat of a Heart (Part Four- The Boys Are Back In Town)
*Author: Jania Jitsu
*Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Lurhmann, I suppose. It certainly doesn't belong to me! Although I wouldn't mind an Ewan, if you can spare . . .
*Feedback: jania_jitsu@yahoo.com





"Christian!" Tom called, waving the book and running to catch up with his friend. "Christian," he said, "I read the book."

Christian looked at him in amazement. "All of it?"

"Last night."

"Wow. That was pretty quick."

"It was very good," Tom said truthfully. "And would you believe I know the author?" He winked.

"Is that so?" Christian asked, his voice just a little too flat to be joking.

"Mm-hmm. He's one of my best friends."

Tom knew Christian would be able to tell from the look in his eyes that he knew the book was autobiographical, but he decided to make it a little more obvious.

"So, what was her real name?"

"Huh?"

"In the book. You called her 'Jolie Diamanta'. What was her real name?"

"Satine Desmergers," Christian said. He looked and sounded so weary and far away. Like just the memory of her name had the power to take him places, even if he didn't want to go.

"No, really," Tom pressed. "What was her name?"

Christian snapped out of his daze and looked at him. "What? What are you talking about? Her name was Satine Desmergers."

Tom shrugged and nodded his head. "Okay, Chris, if you say so, but nobody in their right mind names their child 'Satine'."

"I'm not kidding! Her name was Satine!"

"All right, I believe you!"

Christian was about to protest again when he heard female laughter, followed closely by a man's. Then, from around the corner, came Meg. She was with Christian's cousin, Alphonse.

"Alphonse? What are you doing here?"

Alphonse gave his warmest smile, which Christian could see through in a Monmartrian minute. "Christian! Cousin! How are you?"

He held his arms out and gave Christian a stiff, manly hug, complete with back-clapping which Christian didn't participate in because he hadn't anticipated the hug and his arms were pinned to his sides. Not that he would have anyway; he was a little stunned by his cousin's appearance, not to mention the friendliness.

The hug was over almost before it began, and Alphonse resumed his stance a few steps back.

"What are you doing here?" Christian repeated.

"I arranged the funeral, but I had to leave almost immediately on urgent business," Alphonse said. He looked at Meg with sad eyes. "I felt just horrible for leaving."

"At least you were there," she said kindly, patting his arm as some sort of comfort. She deliberately didn't look at Christian, thereby signaling that he was the bad son and Alphonse was the good nephew.

Christian frowned. "I would have been there too, I mean he's my father and all, but Alphonse had him buried before I could get back from France." It was a little suspicious, actually.

"France," Alphonse said, a little sarcastically. "Well, that is a long way away."

"What, exactly, are you accusing me of?!" Christian asked incredulously.

Alphonse raised one eyebrow. His ice-blue eyes were cold and calculating. "Christian, I don't even pretend to know what you're rambling on about this time."

"Wha-" Christian stuttered.

"Christian," Alphonse interrupted, false concern dripping from his voice, "I've been hearing strange things about you lately. You won't leave your room, and when you do you say and do things that are . . . well . . . quite frankly they're frightening. Are you all right, Cousin?"

Christian looked at Alphonse like he had just grown a second head, complete with three eyes and a hand for hair. "What on Earth are you talking about?! I haven't done anything unusual! What I want to know is what you're up to!"

"'Up to'? Honestly, Cousin. You're becoming delusional. I admit, you've always been a little strange, running off to France in search of whatever and doing God-knows-what to-"

"Hey, now!" Tom said, sticking his arm out just in time to catch Christian from leaping forward and hitting Alphonse.

"Come and say that again, you basta-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH NOW!"

All three men turned to Meg, who stood with her hands on her hips, clenched into fists.

"Really, Mr Stratton!" she said to Christian. "Alphonse has been nothing but kind, arranging your father's funeral and whatnot, and how do you repay him? With your childishness!"

Christian looked at her with a kind of confusion on his face that only a man can possess. She was scolding him like he was a child!

"Meg?" He left off the 'Or whoever you are . . . ' that he was thinking.

"My name is Miss Lockwood," she replied. "And Alphonse isn't the only person you've been horrible to lately. Now, if you gentlemen-" Christian winced when she stressed this word, because she was plainly being sarcastic, "will excuse me, I really am not in the mood to be dealing with this."

"You're right, of course. I'm terribly sorry," Alphonse said, with penitence that was obviously false, or to Christian and Tom (who made a face) at least. "Shall I walk you to the gardens?" he asked. "They're lovely if you need to be alone. I used to go there all the time in my youth when Christian and his friends would leave me out of their little games."

Meg smiled and fell for it. "Why, thank you, Alphonse. That would be lovely."

They walked off, her hand on his arm; voices trailing pleasantly down the hall behind them, where Christian and Tom stood dumbstruck.

"I think the phrase 'what the hell?' sums up this situation quite nicely . . ." Tom mumbled.

Christian nodded in fervent agreement, staring after them.

"What is she hacked off at you about?"

Christian shrugged, still staring.

"Better yet, what the hell does Alphonse want?"

Christian shrugged again.

"Or, even better, why are you still staring after her?"

Christian started to shrug, then he actually listened to what Tom was saying. "What?" Christian asked, shaking his head and looking back at Tom, who feigned innocence.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Christian turned away and frowned his "deeply in thought" frown. "What could Alphonse possibly be up to? I can't figure it out."

"It has me kind of worried that we haven't already," Tom said with a hint of humor.

"Well, we need to."

Tom grinned. "Time to call up the old Knights?"

Christian found himself grinning and nodding. The two men gave each other high fives as they walked down the hall.

"The boys are back in town!" Tom crowed. The servants in the area jumped at the sudden noise. Tom laughed.




o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o






guess who just got back today?
those wild-eyed boys that had been away
haven't changed, haven't much to say
but man, I still think those cats are great!

they were asking if you were around
how you was, where you could be found
I told them you were living downtown
driving all the old men crazy

the boys are back in town




"So," Robert asked, cleaning and adjusting his glasses, "what's so deadly important that you called upon my Knight's oath? And, let me tell you, it had better be damn important because I had to claim family emergency to take leave off work. I can't just go doing that!"

"Oh, shove off it, Rob," Rick laughed, lighting a cigarette. "We all know you'd rather be here."

"I happen to like my job," Robert said icily. "I know that even if a person doesn't need to work they should. Unlike some people."

"We know, we know, work fends off laziness. But you know you'd still rather be here with us." Rick, Tom, and Christian made innocent puppy faces.

Robert shook his head, but the beginnings of a grin were forming on his face. "Stop wanking around and tell me what's so bloody important that my Knightly honor was called into question."

"Yes, about that," Tom said. "You remember how all that started?"

Robert nodded. "Of course. We were, what, seven? Nine?"

"Something like that. And we decided that we had to fend off the 'bad guys' together (namely Alphonse)? So we 'knighted' each other."

"Right, right, and the pact. Always be there for each other, especially in times of trouble, defend maidens and children . . . et cetera, et cetera. I was there, remember?"

Tom held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "I'm just reminding you."

"How kind. What I really need to know is how you need me."

Christian cleared his throat. "I, uh, I assume you know the terms of my father's will?"

Robert's grin turned into a sort of grimace. "Tom and Rick filled me in on that on the ride over here. It was awfully quick, so I assume I missed out on some details, but what I got is basically this: You went to France, fell in love with a courtesan who died."

Christian winced and Tom glared at Robert, who just continued.

"You came back here because your father died too, and if you don't marry Margaret Lockwood within a year of the reading of the will- that would be ten and a half months from now- Alphonse gets the inheritance. Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah," Rick snarled, "the part where Miss Maggie-Magpie gets pissed off at Christian for no damn reason and cozies up to Alphonse, the slimy git. I'd spit on his name if I weren't indoors."

"Yes," Robert said sardonically, "and we're all grateful that we are. Wouldn't want to witness that. So what exactly am I supposed to do about this?"

"We," Christian corrected. "All for one and one for all, remember?"

"We," Tom said, "are going to correct this oversight on Miss Lockwood's part. She is obviously unaware that Alphonse is a dirty, manipulative son of a bitch-"

"And Christian is . . . what, exactly? The guy who only sort of wants to marry her for purely monetary reasons? Yeah, Chris, you've got a great case."

"Hey," Christian argued, "you really can't blame me there! I don't want to see my family's money go to Alphonse. And, God help me, but I'm still in love with Satine!" He looked away. "It hurts to think of her and it hurts even more to think about Meg."

"Actually," Tom corrected semi-gently, "I think you're back onto 'Mr and Miss' base. She's awfully pissed at you. What did you do?"

"I have no idea!" Christian exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "I was talking with her in the library this morning. She was obviously trying to manipulate me into telling her why I went to France, so to get out of it I said I was supposed to be meeting you somewhere. Next thing I know, I'm 'Mr Stratton' again."

"Maybe you can ask her tonight," Rick suggested.

Christian looked up with a frown. "Tonight? What's happening tonight?"

Robert snorted. "Really, Christian, you don't know what's going on in your own household?"

Tom shrugged. "A bunch of guests have been hanging around here since the funeral. Christian's aunts have been arranging parties and balls and such to keep them occupied and happy. Christian hasn't been to a single one."

"There's been talk," Rick added. "You do know that everyone thinks you're crazy, right, Chris?"

"I may have heard something about that," Christian grumbled.

"They think he's crazy?" Robert asked with a little shock. "Christian isn't crazy! Maybe he's a little odd . . ."

"Gee, thanks, Robert."

"No offense, Christian, I just mean that you've always been a little different to everyone else."

"It's nothing bad," Tom assured him. "It's not even that noticeable."

"Nothing to be ashamed of," Rick said in his typical bold voice.

"Can we stop talking about that?!" Christian asked. "What are we going to do about Alphonse?"

"We'll watch him tonight at the party," Robert promised.

Rick winked. "You just concentrate on getting the girl."

"I don't even want the girl," Christian muttered. "How did I get stuck with this?"

Rick shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."




o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o






"I'm still not in love with her, Satine-Lark, but you know I have to do this," Christian explained the bird that used to belong to Satine. (He didn't know if Satine had named it, so he'd just named it after her so it would seem like he could talk to her. Lark, the name of a songbird, had just come along naturally.)

Satine-Lark preened its feathers and tweeted a bit, ignoring Christian.

Was the bird mad at him?! Christian wasn't crazy (contrary to current rumors). He knew the bird wasn't actually Satine. But, God, it had her spirit!

"Would it help if I sang?" That always seemed to calm Satine-Lark down. Sometimes it even sang along, sort of.

Satine-Lark stopped preening and looked at Christian critically, as if it were sizing him up.

"This is the story of a girl," he sang,
"whose pretty face she hid from the world.
And while she looked so sad and lonely there
I absolutely loved her when she smiled!

"My, my baby blue-
I've been thinking about you.
You're so jaded
and, baby, I'm afraid of you!

"I tried so hard and got so far,
but in the end it doesn't even matter.
I had to fall to lose it all,
but in the end it doesn't even matter-
as I sit here in this misery
I don't think I'll ever know love
or see the sun from here.

"One thing: I don't know why.
It doesn't even matter how hard I try.
Keep that in mind.

"I designed this rhyme to remind myself:
all I've ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.
It's not a cry that you hear at night.
It's not somebody who's seen the light.
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

"Keep that in mind."

There was a cough from the back of the room. "He sings to his bird," a voice muttered. "And we ever doubted his insanity?"

"Ah, shut up, Tom. Is it time to go already?"

"Your guests await."

Christian sighed. "Fine, then. I suppose I should go."

"Good thing," Rick said, suddenly appearing beside Tom. "Tom and I didn't want to have to force you, but we really have to quell those insanity rumors. That means try to act normal, okay?" He winked and Robert, who had just walked up in time to hear the last bit, rolled his eyes.

"They're starting dinner in five minutes. You may want to hurry."

Christian nodded, gave his room one last longing look, and left with his friends.

"Okay," Robert said as the four walked to the ballroom, where there were tables set up for dinner, "remember your jobs, people: Rick, Tom, and I are going to watch Alphonse and try to listen to his conversations. Christian, don't worry about him. In fact, try to stay away from him."

"But without making it look like you're staying away from him," Tom added.

"Right." Christian nodded. "And I'm supposed to be winning Meg."

"Miss Lockwood," Tom corrected. "Be a gentleman. Don't win the girl, woo her."

"Chris is the only one of us who was ever really good at it!" Rick laughed.

"And you, Rick-" Robert said sternly, "I'm not even kidding- stay away from Alphonse. If you start a fight, or even an argument . . ." He made a strangling gesture with his hands.

"All right, all right, I got it!"

"Is that it?" Christian asked. They were standing about ten feet away from the ballroom.

Robert stopped, scanning his brain for a moment to see if he had forgotten anything. "No, I don't think so. We've been over everything before. Just everyone behave and we'll be fine."

"All for one and one for all, then," Rick said, sticking his hand out. The others added their hands and repeated the code (which they had stolen from The Three Musketeers).

They walked through the doors, side by side.




o - }---)---) ~*~ (---(---{ - o

Thank you to all my reviewers. People: review, please! I want to know how I'm doing and what you think of the story. *puppy eyes* Pleeeeeeeeease?!

*Notes: Diamanta- "like a diamond"; Jolie- "pretty". Both names are French. Yeah, and I made up that "Monmartiran minute" thing. It was late at night. That's my only excuse. ; ) And the Knight honor thing . . . I decided to run with that Marauder influence that was creeping in. It was just too cute to pass up. : ) That applies to Alphonse the "slimy git" as well.

*Credit: Ahhh, Thin Lizzy. I love "The Boys Are Back In Town"! They sing some other good songs too, though, so check them out.

And I'm afraid that I tried my hand at a medley. (Please, people stop vomiting! I know it was bad.) But the songs all kick! Here they are, in order of appearance:

* "Absolutely"- Nine Days
* "Jaded"- Aerosmith
* "In the End"- Linkin Park
* "Change"- Blind Melon
* "In the End"- Linkin Park (again)
* "Hallelujah"- Jeff Buckley