((Chapter 4))

"Sorry… I'm sorry, I just, I mean I was just going…" Christian stammered, embarrassed that he had scared her. Satine looked at him, puzzled and then began to giggle.

"It's quite all right Monsieur. Are you here to try out for the play?" She inquired, taking a step toward the young man. She stopped suddenly, the smile disappearing from her face. She studied him carefully, looking at him from head to foot. When she finally spoke, it was as if she had seen a ghost.

"Are you him?" she asked quietly. Christian stood, confused, and yet completely enraptured in her face, her voice.

"Excuse me?" he asked wondering if he had heard her question correctly. Satine took a few steps closer to Christian and starred intensely into his eyes. He began to blush at her attention, but did not look away.

"Are you him? Are you the one?" She studied his features, so familiar. She wanted to reach out and touch his face. She moved closer to him, never breaking eye contact. Christians breathing became increasingly more difficult. She was close enough to touch now, all he had to do was reach out, take her hand in his, perhaps place a kiss against her palm.

"My dear, we don't have to be at rehearsal until eight…" The Duke broke off his sentence when he saw that Satine wasn't alone. He walked quickly to her side. "Is everything all right my dear?" he asked her, possessively taking her arm and glaring at Christian. Satine held Christians gaze a moment longer then turned to the Duke, her dazzling smile smoothing over any worries.

"Everything is fine, this young man is here to audition for the play." Satine slid her arm away from the Duke's grasp and moved to the table, picking up her bird cage. The Duke still scowled at Christian as he spoke.

"Well Harold Ziedler's office is that way, you needn't bother Miss Satine any further." The Duke turned to look at Satine as she returned with the cage. "Does this young man have a name?" He asked her arrogantly.

"We hadn't gotten that far dear Duke." Satine smiled at the Duke then turned to Christian, holding out her hand. "My name is Satine, and you are?" Christian took her hand in his and bowed, kissing her skin lightly.

"Christian James at your service Miss Satine." Their eyes met and stayed locked together as Christian straightened, not letting go of her hand. The Duke cleared his throat loudly, interrupting their bond.

"My dear we should go, I have reservations." Satine smiled at Christian, lowering her eyes. She pulled her hand away from him and linked arms with the Duke.

"Very well." They began to walk away arm in arm. Satine looked over her shoulder and smiled. "It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. James." Christian smiled softly.

"The pleasure was all mine." His voice was soft, probably inaudible to her ears. Christian watched them disappear through a door on the far end of the courtyard. He could have sworn he saw Satine look back at him as she faded from his sight. He hadn't heard anyone come up behind him.

"Christian?" Christian spun around to see Toulouse and his friends looking oddly at him. "What are you doing here?" Christian smiled and almost blushed as he turned to gaze at the doorway that Satine had just gone through.

"I was…looking for inspiration." He heard Toulouse chuckle behind him.

"And, did you find it?" He asked, walking up to the young playwright. Christian never answered. Toulouse began to talk about the afternoon they had planned and introduced Christian to his group of friends. They were all involved with this play that Satine was going to be in. It was to be a play the world had never seen before, they raved, an instant success. When invited out to lunch, Christian accepted. He hadn't realized how hungry he had been until the mention of food. The group walked out of the Moulin Rouge and down the street, the Bohemians chatting about truth, beauty, freedom and love. Christian stayed silent, staring at all the buildings and the different world that now surrounded him. They all came to a small café and moved to be seated. Christian smiled broadly, laughing out loud.

"I've been here before!" It was the same café that he had had lunch at with his friends the day before. Toulouse looked at him strangely.

"But I thought you had just arrived this morning?" His bohemian friends all stared at Christian, puzzled looks across their faces.

"Um…well yes, but…" Christian stammered, sitting down in a chair. "Well I mean…I've...imagined being here, at a place just like this." He looked from face to face, wondering if the answer was good enough to cover his mistake. Toulouse smiled and chuckled.

"You playwrights, I wish I had an amazing imagination like yours." The rest of the bohos began to smile and laugh, returning to their previous conversation. Christian made a note to pay more attention to what he said, even how he acted. He was certainly not in the year 2003 anymore.

The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing philosophical topics and walking along the crowded streets of Montmartre. Christian passed the shop where he had purchased his clothing, but now it was only a flower boutique. They returned to the Hotel just as the sun was beginning to set. All of them said goodnight to Christian and made plans for the following day. Toulouse had wanted him to join them upstairs for something called Absinthe but Christian declined. He had had a long tiresome day. Returning to his room, Christian leaned against the back of his door, sighing loudly, a wide smile on his face. He had never felt so alive, so content for an entire day. Removing his hat, he threw it onto the red chair in the corner, followed by his sweater. He moved to the window and looked down at the Moulin Rouge. It's lights were bright, and noise poured out of the main hall and into the courtyard, drifting up over the windmill and straight into his apartment. Christian looked up into the sky, the setting sun causing brilliant oranges and reds to dance across the clouds. He looked down again, movement catching his eye. Someone was actually on top of the elephant. There seemed to be some benches and pillows spread over the sides. He leaned out his window, stepping onto the small balcony, squinting to see who the person was. The female form was wrapped in a red silk dress, moving from side to side. She seemed to be singing. Christian froze, his sight clearing. It was Satine. He smiled, watching her move, her arms spread wide. Straining to hear her words, he leaned out further.

"Why live life from dream to dream…" her soft words floated into his ears, burning his heart, "and dread the day when dreaming ends…" Christian moved then, out the door and down the stairs, across the street, creeping into the Moulin Rouge. He walked around the far side of the elephant not wanting to be seen. Grabbing what he thought must be the elephants tail, Christian pulled himself up the rope. He quietly approached one of the back benches and stood, half hid in shadows. Satine was still humming to herself, swaying back and forth.

"How wonderful life is, now that I am in your world." Christian thought to himself. Satine turned and gasped, halting in her movement. She had spotted someone, just in the shadows, watching her.

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"Whoever you are, you must leave. I will scream, sending everyone running." She spoke quickly and with authority, squaring her shoulders. Christian stepped out of the shadows, looking away from her stare.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Miss Satine. I never meant to intrude."

"You?" Satine spoke softly. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here." Christian stepped closer to her, still not daring to look in her eyes.

"I saw you singing, I live over there…in that hotel." He pointed to his room, the windows still open. She turned to follow his direction.

"I thought that maybe we could talk, there are some questions I have and…" He paused as she turned again, his eyes catching hers.

"What kind of questions? Are you a reporter? I spoke with Harold and he told me that no one had come to audition today, so either you lost your nerve or you lied to me earlier." Christian smirked, sitting down on one of the side benches.

"I am not a reporter, but I'm not an actor either. I never told you that I was, you assumed it. I'm a playwright." Satine looked at him suspiciously, moving to sit on a bench across from him.

"A playwright? So you've come for a job?" She asked, her face frowning.

"No, I am…on a vacation of sorts." Christian smiled and looked around the top of the elephant. Satine never turned her gaze from him, studying the way he sat, his clothes, his hair, the curve of his face, the blush that arose in his cheek as he noticed her watching him. She shook her head and sat up straight, folding her hands in her lap.

"You said you had questions?" She looked at him coolly. Christian looked down, clearing his throat.

"Earlier today, when we first met, well before we met formally, although I feel like I've known you for some time, even though we…" Satine sighed loudly, her look telling him that he was rambling. He smiled sheepishly and continued.

"Well, I was wondering what you meant when you asked me if I was the one, if I was him?" Christian looked at her face, watching her composure slip slightly.

"You had caught me off guard that's all, it was nothing." She looked at him, wondering how she knew his face, knowing that it would feel wonderful in his arms, no question that she would be happy. She stood, trying to clear her head.

"If that was all then I shall say goodnight. I have a long day of rehearsals tomorrow." Christian stood, nodding his head. He couldn't believe he was going to let her go that easily, without a fight. Sucking in a deep breath, he moved forward, grabbing her arm.

"Wait, please, wait." She turned, looking surprised. Christian gulped down the air caught in his throat.

"Could I see you again? Tomorrow night perhaps, or the night after that? It doesn't have to be a night though, if you have a free moment during the day or whenever. I understand you must have a busy schedule but I would just…" Satine's giggle stopped Christian's words. He dropped his hand from her arm, blushing and looking away from her face.

"Do you always go on and on like that?" She stepped closer to him.

"Only when I am nervous. I apologize. It's just…I never knew I could feel like this. I never have felt so strongly for someone I hardly know. I don't want you to slip away." Satine felt tears race to her eyes, although her brain was telling her she was being foolish, her heart was racing. She moved closer still to him, her eyes locking with his.

"I have had men throw jewels at my feet, stuff money in my pockets, tell me of my beauty, and yet here I stand." She spoke softly, more to herself than to him, but for some reason she thought he needed to hear her words too. A single tear moved down her cheek. Christians hand reached up and gently wiped it away.

"How wonderful my life is now that I am in your world." He whispered, his lips moving close to hers. His hand moved to her waist as she leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his warm lips. Her hand traced his face, moving to his shoulder, their kiss deepening. Christian felt as if his heart would burst. She moved away suddenly, turning from him. Christian felt guilty, perhaps he acted wrongly, too bold.

"I'm sorry Satine, I shouldn't have…" She stopped him by looking over her shoulder, shaking her head no.

"There was nothing wrong with that kiss, I refuse to have you apologize for it. It was," She paused, turning slightly, struggling for the right words. Satine smiled, bringing a hand to her lips. "I am busy with rehearsals for the next three days, but then I have a break, for two days until opening night. Perhaps we could talk, ask more questions?" She looked at him, a smirk playing across her lips. Christian chuckled.

"That would be heavenly. I shall let you be until then. No distractions." He watched as she nodded and turned to leave. She didn't speak again, no words were needed. Christian watched her disappear down a spiral staircase, he couldn't stop smiling. He was about to walk out of the Moulin Rouge until the Duke stepped in his path.

"I see you've found a part in the play?" The Duke looked at him as if he were a rat, a snake that needed to be crushed under his boot. Christian's smile faded.

"Good Evening Duke." The Duke looked furious with Christian.

"No, it is not, but it seems as if your having a good evening." The Duke moved closer and Christian stepped back until he was pressed into a corner of the entryway. The Duke sneered at Christian, lowering his voice.

"Don't think me naive, young man. I know why you're here. Satine is mine, I am her manager. I found her here, wasting away as a two bit whore. It's only with my financial help that she is what she is. You cannot come in here and expect to have her in one of your plays, stealing her away. I won't have it." Christian was growing angrier with each statement of possession the Duke made.

"My dear sir," Christian spoke through clenched jaws. "I am not here for Satine's fame or wealth, she can become whatever she likes, I would never stand in the way of what she wanted to do." The Duke stepped back slightly, smiling tersely.

"As long as you are by her side I suppose." Christian moved past the Duke and towards the door.

"If that is what she wants. If she decides differently, then I would leave. But until then, I will be here, supporting her in every way I can." Christian left, letting the door close with a bang behind him.

"Well then," The Duke commented, watching him cross the street. "I'll have to make sure to influence her decisions."

Christian marched back up to his room, slamming his door behind him. The nerve of that Duke, claiming ownership over Satine. He paced back and forth in his room, pausing every few moments to stare down into the entrance of the Moulin Rouge. He should have hit him, kicked him, scared him out of his wits. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself. If he had allowed an outburst, he might not have gotten to see Satine again. Christian walked over to his bed and fell onto it, sighing loudly. Her face filled his head, her smile, her laugh, the way she touched his face, the feel of her lips on his. He smiled, the thoughts of her causing his heart to ache completely, because she wasn't close to him. Christian shifted on the bed and felt something pressing into his spine. He sat up and moved the blanket aside. As soon as Christian saw the object he felt dizzy and sick. It was a book. He picked it up as his vision started to blur. "The time travel theory…" Christian fell back onto the bed, passing out.