Disclaimer: Nothing's ours, just the story. Moulin Rouge goes to Baz and the song to someone else.
Satine had beat Christian to the garret.
After rehearsal, she had pleaded a dreadful headache to excuse herself from dinner with the Duke and to get herself some 'alone' time.
Marie, of course, and some of the girls, and, (naturally), Harold, had wanted to fuss over her, but she would have none of it. She locked herself away in her room, and when she was sure the coast was clear, she flew to Christian's garret.
Christian was sequestered somewhere, most likely at the bar counter, scribbling frantic notes on his copy of the script, editing lines or gestures.
Satine wasn't worried. She had curled up on his balcony and was enjoying both the crisp night air and the lack of chatter around her. Silence was a marvelous and precious commodity to Satine.
She didn't acknowledge the door that slammed behind her twenty minutes later. She was still stuck in her world of mindless thoughts. Christian, who was obvioulsy annoyed, exited and came back, slamming the door harder this time. Once again, his lover ignored him. It took him six more times before she shouted at him to stop.
Now she really did have a headache.
Christian went and crawled next to her, nuzzling her clammy neck. But Satine wasn't in the mood.
"Darling," Christian started, "I slammed the door for a reason."
"To give me a migraine?"
She pushed him away and stared listlessly at the glowing Moulin Rouge.
It was spinning gaudily, and the flashing lights were only increasing her headache.
"I hate that thing." She muttered, her bitterness fading as she spoke. Christian had his head in her lap and was gazing up at her worriedly, her hand clasped in his. He rubbed small circles at the base of her thumb.
He didn't need to look over in order to reply quietly, "I know." He looked over to look at her. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. It was obvious she needed something to pull her away.
"Dance with me!" And he pulled her up to her feet.
"No darling, I'm not in the mood. My headache..."
Christian kissed her forehead and then swept her into a passionate kiss. "We'll make it go away!"
Satine gave up, seeing no need to resist his attempts at love.
Christian swept her into his arms, pressing his cheek to hers, his lips close to her ear. He kissed her softly before he whispered, "Heaven, I'm in heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak and I seem to find the happiness I seek. When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek," He turned them in a half circle, making sure that the bright windmill was obscured from Satine's vision. "Heaven, I'm in heaven and the cares that hung around me through the week seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak. When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek," He pulled away from her, looking deep into her eyes. He flashed a bright smile. "Heaven, I'm in heaven and the cares that hung around me through the week seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak... when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek,"
"You couldn't climb a mountain." Satine teased lovingly.
"I could too!" he protested hotly. "I climbed that elephant, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes, but he continued. "Oh I love to go out fishing in a river or a creek. But I don't enjoy it half as much as dancing cheek to cheek,"
Satine snorted. "Remember that lovely little boat ride with the Duke, darling, on the Seine? So charming. You made such a good gondolier."
Christian ignored her, instead pulling her to his chest forcefully, crooning melodramatically, "Dance with me. I want my arms about you. Those charms about you
Will carry me through to..."
"Heaven," Satine replied dreamily, "I'm in heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak and I seem to find the happiness I seek-" She traced his cheekbone with a soft fingertip. "When we're out together dancing,"
"Out together dancing," Christian echoed.
"Out together dancing cheek to cheek," the finished in unison.
Christian gazed lovingly into her eyes. He was melting right there on the spot.
"I love you," He whispered.
Satine pushed away from him. "I still have my headache." She pouted. But instead of running back to the window seat, she laid invitingly on the bed. "Care to make it disappear?"
His lover was way to seductive sometimes.
"Well," Christian said thoughtfully, "Most doctors would prescribe bed rest for your ailment."
"And what does Dr. Christian prescribe?"
"Fluids. Lots of fluids."
He ran to the small kitchen and returned with a small pitiful glass of water. Satine smiled- she had him wrapped around her little finger.
"Thank you darling," She said. "Now sit." Christian sat. "Good boy! You get a treat!" He puckered up, waiting for his kiss. Instead she splashed the glass of water into his face. "I don't want anymore water."
Christian sat there, his face dripping.
Satine stared at him uncomfortably. "Wipe that off!" she commanded.
"No," he said. "I'm waiting for that guilt complex I know you have to kick in. Then you'll feel bad and wipe my face off for me."
Satine was torn between the twinge of guilt she actually felt, or the needling want to imperiously shake it off and insist she had no such intentions. With lightning movements, she brushed the water off his face. "There. Happy?"
Christian nodded. "Now kiss me you fool!"
Satine sighed and refused. "Never!"
She shouldn't have said it. She's going to regret it. You see, Christian really wanted his kiss. It was perfectly understandable that he began to chase her around his garret.
Is it that hard to give a kiss to your one true love?
As she ran around the room, Satine realized something very important: she wanted the kiss too. Abruptly, she stopped and turned. Unable to stop, Christian slammed into her, and Satine used the opportunity to crush her mouth against his.
Christian let out a small yelp, well... as much a yelp as he could with her tongue in her mouth.
It was a very nice kiss. He could've stayed there all night, he wanted to too. But unfortunately, they were both low on energy and had to sleep sometimes... Not to mention that breathing was also an important part of life.
