The songs and background music placed at pivotal scenes are based on "Sailor Moon in Paris" album, setting the ambiance to transport you to the 'City of (Three) Lights' and the romantic mood playing throughout the 3-part chapters of this special "Sailor Moon Eternal Movie".
We do not own "Sailor Moon" nor any of the characters.
"SAILOR MOON ETERNAL"
The 6th Season of the Sailor Moon Saga
Chapter 24
"Sailor Moon Eternal in Paris Movie: La Destiny"
Part 2
"Love's Mysterious Experience"
The rest of the day, the three couples spend touring the famed City of Lights. They now knew firsthand why it earned that name when, as soon as the sun went down, Paris sparkled with dazzling, multi-colored light displays. Glimmers from every rooftop, each signpost lighting the streets of the city, making all of Paris seem to glow with a fresh warm energy.
Feeling the warmth in the air (not to mention from sweaty arms and energized hands tightly wrapped around her firm abdomen, along with someone's extremely hot breath on her neck) Alex speeds along the brightly lit roads, on a crimson red motorcycle she had rented to explore the parts of Paris that could not be seen on foot.
Uncanny, how good it feels to be racing along with him. How strangely right for him to have his arms around me. Alex, what's happening to you? Her mind questions itself, memories of the fun-filled day they spent together starting at the Eiffel Tower up to now, flashing through. Of the silly things he did and said—of the way he always amused her. Imagine me enjoying being with the wolf himself!
Tearing up the pavement, Alex steps on the accelerator, climbing a steep hill off the beaten track, just on the outskirts of the city. Stopping the motorcycle and putting the brakes down, Alex pulls off her helmet, shaking out her golden waves to look out over the city that once was a part of her past.
(PLAY 'Sailor Moon in Paris': "LOVE'S MYSTERIOUS EXPERIENCE")
Je'taime
Finding myself now with you
I'm reaching for this love affair with you
My heart longs to take you and make you all my own
"Spectacular view." With Alex's cool scent of refreshing ozone still captivating his senses from the ride pressed to her firm back, Sayer's silkiest voice comments at more than just the scenery lighting up the city beneath them.
Extricating herself from his now unnecessary grip, Alex glides from the machine in one motion. She was sporting a white and lime green striped shirt and a small very enticing white skirt she had been loaned because Michelle insisted her mother would not look kindly upon the pants Alex usually wore and didn't want to antagonize her further before the soiree.
Je'taime
Hearing your voice more and more
Whispered thoughts of love inside me are real
Like stars shining beautiful gold deep in my soul
Alex looks face on to the brisk wind, her profile exuding that brave image he greatly admired—but something else now, too. Her face glows with that irresistible charm of hers which could never be tied to just one emotion. Sayer's eyes consider the unpredictable creature, with a certain look in his dark blue orbs.
"What?" Alex breaks his unusual silence defensively, feeling the weight of his single-minded, focused gaze upon her, as she leans against the bike, supposedly taking in the view.
"Nothing." Sayer says quickly, changing his position on the motorcycle so he could look up at the dusky sky, his expression vacillating from soft yearning to strong-willed dedication to unrequited sadness which subtly melts into the galaxy beyond, intriguing her now just as much.
(Are you my love?)
Looking over
(I lift my eyes)
Secretly at night
Though I'm upset sometimes with you
Always stay like this!
I want you to come to my dreams just as you are
At last the time is right for us
Alex soon finds herself studying him now, as his blue eyes turn upward, catching the golden gleam of the last rays of the sun within them—making him radiant, on fire, like a shooting star running through the night sky.
Or is that the fire within me? Alex wonders when his gaze turns towards her from this Fighter communing with the distant stars and the blaze reflecting back, undiminished, grows even stronger.
In your eyes
I see more and more this shine
Your heart's made room for me
I'll begin this love now without expectations
Though I'm honestly a little frightened of this
Love affair — But what I never dreamed could be overtakes me now
Alex turns away though, still secretly watching from the corner of her eye, his every move, the soft way the wind blew through his navy hair and that sweet, unreadable smile that came to his lips every once in a while.
What are you thinking when you smile like that? She wonders. His face was so beautiful in the coming twilight, so full of life and spirit. Even when I get angry with you, you still give me that smile. After all I do and say to you, you still persist, like a fool.
A fool…in love.
Always stay like this. What are these feelings inside? What is my heart doing to me? I want to open up to you and tell you what I'm feeling but—I'm still a little frightened.
Me, frightened. She smirks even at her own inner thoughts as his subtle warmth pervades her with the rich scent of gardenia and white musk dwelling in the clean, refreshing air vividly surrounding Sayer Starr.
Of me, of you, of us—what kind of future will we have together? We always argue. You make me SO mad sometimes! But then, sometimes…you just make me love you more.
Did I just think that!? Feeling like her head was in the clouds in the stratosphere above they even sparred over, Alex Sokova's eyes widen in astonishment at these far-out, contemplative daydreams melding into once inconceivable realizations.
Love—a word I never thought I'd say to a man. What's happening to me? But I guess you're not just a man. Are you, Fighter? You're sweet and caring, at the same you can be so damn arrogant and outlandish. But maybe that's what I find so attractive—you're maddening like the wind. I believe you can truly understand me. And beneath all the arguments and flirtations, there's really someone who could care for me, for who I am, and never try to change me—like everyone else has always tried. Everyone, except Michelle.
I have to decide now what kind of life I want to have, beyond being a Soldier. But I think it's too late for me to change…And…too late for me to just turn away...
Suddenly, I don't want to anymore. I want to hold you in my arms forever. Make you mine, and never let you go.
The wind starts whipping Sayer Star Fighter's scent all around her, filling Uranus' nostrils with bursts of the fresh fruits she adored to wake up in the morning to—limes, lemons, grapefruit… strawberries—the sweet flavors of 'God's natural candy' that made Alex feel so alive and vital.
Je'taime
At the beginning with you
At this sudden time of awakening
My days are filled with life and your spirit
If you really love me, I will never let you go.
Alex smiles to herself. The wind all around her momentarily ceases to blow in that second the fateful decision to continue on with this love affair had been made, in her mind and in her heart, too.
Je'taime
I want to learn more of you
All at once I see just how cute you are
That sweetness of yours I want to hold through the night
"What're you thinking about so serious faced, Ally?" Sayer asks, somehow feeling her pensive mood changing towards him, as he wraps his arms around her—and was delighted she didn't shake him off for once.
"Nothing much." Alex replies with a dismissive smile, the winds that blew through her knowing the time was not right to tell him yet all that she felt.
(Lift up your eyes)
To wondrous feelings
(It's déjà vu)
Can't keep myself from
This mystery I've found now in you
"It's getting late." She throws a long leg over the waiting motorcycle and turns the ignition key on.
"Why don't you let me drive this time?" Sayer asks, putting the crimson red helmet on, feeling rather confident.
"'Cause I want to get back in one piece, okay?" Alex smirks, the scent of his refreshing cologne now intermingling with the thrilling smell of exhaust and gasoline.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sayer twists his lip, insulted.
"Anyone would be crazy to let you drive them anywhere!" She taunts. Although never having seen him drive a vehicle close up, Alex Sokova, champion racer, was so experienced in the field she could spy a good driver from a lousy one a mile away—and Sayer Starr was one of the latter.
"I can drive!" Sayer protests, his pride insulted.
"Sure you can." Alex answers back smugly.
"I can!" In his declarative anger, Sayer forgets to hold on, flying backwards and almost falls off the seat he'd hopped back on when Alex hits the gas pedal. The two of them continue their argument all along the way, even as his heat radiating hands roughly grab back on. That unparalleled energy flowing from this shooting star's fingertips straight through her body was just as palpable to Uranus as his first invigorating touch two years ago.
Trust you to drive my vehicle? No way! Trust you with my heart…That's another story. Alex smiles through all of his boisterous insistence, as the sound of the lead singer's golden voice yelling in her ear was becoming a familiar pleasure, as was his heady gardenia and strawberry scent mixed with the perfume of rubber hitting the wind's pavement.
Try as she might to deny it, Alex was falling more and more for this Star Fighter with each passing moment together.
I think that I will
Entrust my dreams for you to become a part of
Since meeting the real you, I see
The same thing in your eyes
Passions I never thought I could feel for someone
Beginning this love now without expectations
Yet still I'm frightened of this 'you and me'
But I've decided this is the time for a new destiny…
Love is a truly mysterious experience. Amaralexis Sokova smirks at life's most perplexing—yet suddenly temptingly appealing—conundrum.
After spending their first day in Paris in carefree hours in the parc lands, Terry and Susan visit the shores of the lake nearby, quietly feeding the placid swans. The couple walks hand in hand by the edge of the sparkling water until the sun sets. They then return to the hotel to change into more proper garb for a dinner date Terry had reserved at one of Paris' famed restaurants.
"For you, my lady." Terry places a small gift box in Susan's hand when she was about to enter her hotel room which he had very gentlemanly escorted her to.
"What is it?" Susan smiles sweetly at the surprise, with a little lilac bow tying it together.
"Open and find out." Terry smiles down at her, leaning his tall form in the doorway over her. Susan excitedly unwraps her prize, a lavender box with a single word written in gold calligraphy across it.
"It's a symbol of everything you are to me, my 'Jewel.'" Terry whispers the word into her adoring ears with a soft nibble to her ear with the gift that exuded a sensually smoky scent with a layered fantasy note. Smiling lovingly up at him for all the attention this once forgotten woman never imagined, Susan slides the perfume bottle from its case.
"Thank you. It's so beautiful." A white petaled rose was immersed in Italian bergamot, neroli, chamomile, lily of the valley and amber whispered woody and sweet citrus fragrance, its lustrous scent capturing all the romanticism of the Mediterranean.
"Nothing could be as beautiful as you are, my jewel who shines beyond time and space." Terry leans his head down, receiving Susan's gratitude in a deep kiss, despite the knowing glances of the French porters tripping up and down the hallway.
"I'll wear it tonight. Just for you." Susan splashes a drop of the modest yet midnight musky "Jewel" fragrance to her neck, to which Terry gives a final, satisfied-at-the-exotic-taste kiss before letting her disappear into her room.
Soon looking dashing in a fully pressed black dinner jacket, Terry Starr reappears to claim his deliciously perfumed lady, who was especially lovely tonight in a violet evening dress. Supple sweet lily scented, Susan clings to his arm and they decide to walk down the moonlit tree-lined streets rather than take a taxi to the exclusive high class restaurant "Le Grand Velfor."
After a tasteful French cuisine dinner and the romantic candlelit atmosphere overlooking the Palais-Royal, Terry finds the moment presenting itself as perhaps now the perfect setting for his next well-chosen words.
"Susan, my lady," Terry starts the lines he had rehearsed over countless times, for the second time this day.
"Yes, darling?" Susan smiles at him, returning her attention to him from the swaying couples on the dance floor.
"I want you to know, that meeting you was the most wonderful thing to ever happen in my life." He takes her soft slender hands across the table in his.
"Oh, you're so sweet." No longer the melancholy Soldier standing guard in the distance alone due to this wondrous man, shy Susan blushes under his intent gaze, her heart bursting with love for this Star Maker of her dreams.
"I've longed for you in every fantasy, in every secret wish, every waking thought, and every hopeful prayer for as long as I can remember. And now you have truly come to me." The mahogany haired man squeezes her hands, as his deep voice tries to express all he feels for this wondrous, timeless beauty.
"Susan, my lady, my darling, will you—" Terry releases her hands, moving his chair back as he was about to take a kneeling position. But that's when both he and Susan look up in surprise to hear a ruckus at the other end of the restaurant's front desk.
"What do you mean we're not properly dressed, Frenchy? You should see us in our uniforms!" However, Terry was not shocked to hear Sayer's high-pitched voice insulting the maitre'd.
Alex, not holding him back like a proper female companion usually would, was rather amused, and folds her arms where she was standing behind him. Both of them were still in the jeans, skirt, and casual clothes of the day, making a stark contrast to the tuxedos and evening gowns of the rest of the high society patrons.
"Monsieur, please!" The mortified restaurant attendant tries to quiet them down, and gives in so as to stop the scene. "Pardon moi. Of course you may stay, monsieur, madamoiselle." His accent was thick, and the Frenchman bows hurriedly before leading the 'low-class' couple to the furthest back table so they would not be seen.
"That's better. Let's see what's so Grand about this joint!" Sayer folds his arms triumphantly, while Alex's keen eye spots Terry and Susan (who were properly attired) at the table beside them.
"We're uninvited company." She states with humor, having a feeling they were interrupting a romantic interlude between the quieter couple.
"Hey, Ter! Susie!" Sayer smiles brightly, "How's the grub? Good, here?" He asks the sighing, smiling couple as the maitre'd nearly faints at this ruffian's street words, and slaps down their menus to their table he roughly shifts to adjoin to Terry and Susan's. The aghast man, red in the face, escapes the horrid scene as soon as possible.
"I think you upset him." Alex smirks, sitting down. Sayer shrugs, continuing to gab with them about the day's events. Susan politely entertains the conversation.
Oh well, Terry sighs to himself, so much for this romantic evening. He gives up again on his chance to say what he needed to for the rest of this night, having to content himself with Susan's lustrous scent and bewitching eyes across the table.
Mademoiselle Michelle Moreau spent her day showing off her favorite Paris sights to Robin, including several art museums, of which the famed Louvre was one (where Michelle secretly wished to see one of her paintings hung on its famed walls someday). Meeting up with some of her old acquaintances along their travels, Michelle proudly introduces Robin to them as her "mon cherie, Monsieur Robin Starr"—everyone in gay Paris knew that when a well-turned young lady said it like Michelle did, she was really speaking of her je'taime—her lover. And most of them were either envious of his attentions—or envious for her good fortune in such a fine specimen of the gorgeous model young man on her arm.
The well-matched pair visits various museums and art exhibits, not to mention accomplish a spot of elite French designer shopping during the scenic afternoon, and then dinner at the finest restaurant in all of Paris. Later, Michelle takes Robin to one of her old haunts, in her posh city neighborhood, sneaking them covertly under the cover of darkness onto the grounds of her former (Jeune fille Academie) Young Ladies' Academy.
(PLAY 'Sailor Moon in Paris': "MOONLIGHT MAGIC")
(Mon chere, born to me magic
To my delight—moonlight magic)
"My parents insisted that I come to this exclusive young ladies school. They had tried to make Amara come as well, to learn etiquette and poise from the Sisters here. But nothing could hold Amara back then. Oh, when I was younger I was always envious of how brave she was to buck them, rebel, and leave this all behind. How I used to dream of what life was like outside these staid confines!" Michelle uncharacteristically was very emotive as she touches the high fence bars between the school and the street, leading to Paris' downtown.
"Sometimes it's safer inside, than in that harsh world out there." Robin philosophically states, his mint green eyes filling with a far-off gaze to the distant darkness beyond the stars. There's something out there, faintly calling to me…
Shaking himself back to the present, the introvert himself preferred the security of being alone than the danger and trouble of a crowd. His hands lightly survey the Academy's ivy covered front stone pillars at the front gate with traced fingers running across them. His sensitive eyes close, as if trying to divine what they had seen over the innumerable years they've stood—particularly concerning a beautiful young maiden in a cage like a delicate canary, held behind the venerated Academie's fenced bars.
"You sound like my father." Her words meant as an insult, Michelle interrupts Robin's deep thoughts. But somehow, bitter past memories of this place turned it into a fond comparison, Michelle had always been a "Daddy's girl" through her formative childhood years. Her "Papere" may have been one of the kindest, mildest souls in all of France, but still she did not like Robin agreeing with her either of her parents' decisions so readily.
"Safer perhaps, but not half as exciting." She smiles with a jut-out jaw, remembering vividly being fifteen and headstrong. "I left this school one day, more than a little jealous of Amara's boldness in running away. I, too, longed to rebel against my parents. There was a young boy…no more than sixteen. From, as they say, the wrong side of the tracks. You weren't the first, Robin dear, who my parents disapproved of. They were right, of course, he wasn't the one…sweet Brad. I was too young. My mother scared him off one day with threats of the gendarme for 'harass stalking' and 'badgering' me, and I never saw him again. I was so angry with her then, I rushed right into another man's arms. He was an older man, Michaël, thirty at least, appearing to be suave and dapper. And so very dazzling to a young, sheltered girl who just turned sixteen. Papere and Mamere sent investigators after him, and they were right once again. He turned out to be not only a womanizer, with another lover—or two—but he was a penniless gold-digger as well, only after my status and money alone." Michelle whispers, the pain of years past was as yet evident as she almost shyly focuses her eyes on the single gleaming light in the window of the school. Michelle then swallows before continuing the very personal, humiliating story she'd share with no one else.
And if in case the moon's magic fades
Will you remain another night with me?
The goddesses above whisper our names
Praying for moonlight magic
"Twice broken hearted, my parents decided that maybe Paris was not the right place for me any longer. So they packed me up and sent me away. To a boarding school in Tokyo, where my mother knew Amara had landed. And where Papere had connections with the principal. She believed life was slower paced there—more conservative an atmosphere than 'Gay Paree.'" Michelle's somewhat teary eyes dance about the streets of the famed city surrounding the quiet pair.
"It wasn't long after I arrived, that I realized within myself my special destiny as a Soldier. And I was torn between joy and sorrow when I realized that it was Amara's destiny as well, for I already understood how hard a path it was to travel. After we found each other as Sailor Guardians, and I gave her the opportunity to choose for herself if she wished to embrace and share in this cruel destiny as an Outer Scout, Amara accepted the fate she had been running from and took me under her wing, so we could run it, side by side, at least. My beautiful Amaralexis gave up her flight to freedom for me that day." The young woman recalls that fateful day with both pride and melancholy for the sacrifice of more than a racing career her tenderhearted partner Uranus had selflessly given up to walk the tough road of a warrior alongside her guardian planet of Neptune.
"By and by, after the silence was surpassed, our mission completed, with a new one to protect our Moon Princess embraced, I found our differences fading, my story and hers the same. Uranus and I were of the same opinion of life and duty and freedom...and love. So from that time forward we swore allegiance to each other and each other alone. And…then I met you." Michelle finishes her tale of her far-flung foolish days in the city of her past.
Just then, the moon, dark until now, lifts its shroud to reveal its mystical aura to shine over them. But there was a particularly brilliant shooting star, conversely sharp and delicate, gleaming down from a galaxy beyond. This celestial body, which had been so captivated by this child of Neptune's riveting story, beams his crystal cool spotlight upon her lovely face all the while with the crisp scent of mint immersed in watery notes sway in perfect combination.
Let's stay together for another lifetime
Watching the next shooting start soar overheard
Reflecting in their radiance
So crystal clear, I feel this trembling in me now
Gazing upwards, her perfect skin aglow in the moonlight, Robin could almost see oceanic tears reflecting in those stunning eyes. Keeping silent pretty much the whole time, he had wondered why Michelle's attempting to be happy mood all day suddenly changed as she conveyed this sad story to him by night.
My destiny has been written (At last!)
I will surely protect it from darkness (It's mine)
This throbbing within me (It's mine)
I feel only for you (Fate)
But expectations still exist
Moonlight magic
Moonlight magic
He realized, after a moment of viewing her pure face washed in the magic of the moon's light, that she must be afraid of it happening all over again, but this time with him. He had to be strong for her. He had to be the stable one.
And if in case the stars cease their flowing
If that happens, guide me away with you
Take me with you
To that place of wonder
The land of moonlight magic
"Don't worry, Michelle. That won't happen to us. I won't let it." He whispers into her graceful waves of aqua, taking her sylphlike shoulders firmly in his wiry hands.
"Oh, Robin!" She bursts into the tears she's held back all day, throwing her arms around him. His strong arms pull her close—sensing in Michelle's open mind how she was that little, lost and frightened fifteen year old girl all over again.
Why do you become faint now, my love?
In the full moon's light, I can see it clear in your eyes
(It's you)
You want to leave this place
(It's you)
I tremble when I think you will not come here again
(Close to me)
"I promise you, Michelle. We'll always be together. Even for another lifetime." His soul calls out to hers in the moonlit silence, the lingering aroma of citrus and mints dance on the surface of the deep enveloping the psychologically sensitive, extrasensory connected pair.
"Always?" Michelle's heart longs to hear him say it over and over, her ocean of mirror clear blue eyes desperately seeking his.
This destiny of yours is written
I will surely protect it from darkness
(I will)
Meeting you, all our times (It's mine)
Were all an illusion?
But truly inside I will believe!
"Always." Robin verbally reiterates with determination, aloud, pulling her into a sweet embrace as he tries to tenderly kiss away her tears. Never mind his own doubts he had kept secretly buried away, from even Michelle. Though Robin desperately wanted to share everything he felt with her, maybe now wasn't the time for her fragile psyche at the moment to face any other instability.
Let's stay together another lifetime
Watching the next shooting start soar overheard
Reflecting in their radiance
So crystal clear, I feel this trembling in me now
As their lips part, Michelle's worried expression turned into that dreamy smile only her shining star could make happen. She gazes up at the shooting star twinkling in the crystal clear, cloudless moonlight across the dark sky. In the cool wind, she could almost hear ancient souls whispering for her dreams to come true.
Closing her eyes, Michelle wishes for Heaven above to watch over her and her love's destiny together, though she was fearful of her parents' power over their fate here below. Her eyes close, a wistful smile on her sweet lips, as Robin draws her even closer to his chest, caressing his cheek against her soft hair.
My destiny has been written (At last!)
I will surely protect it from darkness (It's mine)
This throbbing within me (It's mine)
I feel only for you (Fate)
But expectations still exist
Moonlight magic
Moonlight magic
This fantasy we're in together—I will protect this love, as long as I'm the one you truly do want, Michelle. I won't ever let it end. No matter what is awaits us…
Robin feels his heart throbbing within him, for the woman in his arms, hoping beyond hope, that their destiny was to always be together like this.
Set to the harmony of to their echoed prayers, the moonlight's magic does its melodious work on a pair of troubled young hearts from somewhere out there.
(The moon and you
If only we could go there
To a distant time
You and I)
Moonlight magic
Moonlight magic
"So where've you been, Rob? Out "ooh-la-la-ing" with 'Chelle, I suppose? Didja do any French kissing in the moonlight?" With an eyebrow raising elbow in his gut, Sayer teases his brother as Robin returns to their adjoined hotel room, at an hour well past midnight. After dropping Michelle at her parents' château, Robin had quietly snuck away before they could see him with her so late in the night.
The more sophisticated young man simply rolls his eyes at Sayer, the comment not even deserving a response. He walks past Sayer who was lounging on the antique French settee, and looking rather uncomfortable on the short, stiff backed piece of furniture.
"Ahh, what's that odor?!" Sayer says, wrinkling his nose at the minty, musky scent as Robin takes off his jacket and tosses it on the back of the settee with a sigh.
"Oh. Well…Michelle insisted on buying me this, um, cologne, when we went shopping this afternoon." He almost looked…embarrassed…for some reason, which was much unlike the usual Robin. He then turns his attention to a more receptive Terry who enters the room in a simple pair of slacks and undershirt.
"We saw several art exhibits today, renowned museums, and even went to the Louvre." Robin tries to change the subject.
"Ah, that's a very edifying experi—" Intelligent and urbane Terry starts to say pleasantly, though his mind seemed somewhere else tonight.
"The 'LOO!' No wonder you stink like that!" Conversely immature and boorish Sayer chuckles at the French pronunciation, laughing a full belly laugh until he was rolling on said uncomfortable little couch. He then holds Robin's pungent 'musk mint jacket' at arms' length with one hand, pinching his disgusted nose with the other.
"Sayer, you are SO low class." Robin starts to swipe at his uncultured sibling, when he sees Sayer digging through the pockets of the jacket he had just thrown on the couch.
"I knew it!" Sayer pulls out the bottle of "Cool Sky" cologne Robin was wearing, reading its label for the ingredients. "Musk and mint!?" Sayer almost bursts out laughing at Robin, of all people wearing such a…provocative…scent. "What're you trying to do, Rob? Drive Michelle crazy with your 'Muskmint rat manliness'? Ha ha ha! Muskmint rat! That's good! I'm a riot!" He teases his nemesis brother, popping off the cap and taking a whiff, then replaces it quickly, with a grossed out look on his face.
"She GAVE it to me! I didn't ask for it!" Robin grabs the bottle sulkily, heading towards his room with a dark—yet mint scented—cloud over his silver head as he angrily slammed the bedroom door behind him.
But secretly the superstar model did approve of the cologne's scent. Robin buries his cute nose in the jacket Michelle had doused with the gifted scent as he leaned against the back of the door, remembering the magical day spent with the other half of his soul.
Well, I'll be a 'Muskmint rat' for my mermaid, any day…
"You shouldn't tease him so, Sayer. I think he's really apprehensive about tomorrow night." Terry says, considerately, always able to read into his brothers' moods.
"Yeah…I'd be worried, too, with that Lady MacBeth mother of 'Chelle's. Whoosh!" Sayer pulls off his red t-shirt, tossing it unceremoniously to the ground. To which immediately and without thought, Terry scoops it up and folds it, quite accustomed to the task.
"Say..." Sayer's mind wanders (as it often does), "You think maybe I should try some of that musk stuff? Maybe not the mint scented, I'll leave that for Rob…but the strong real stuff." He looks to Terry for sound advice on the fragrant matter.
"Somehow, I don't think Alex would appreciate it much. And I had no idea you were acquainted with Shakespeare to know of his formidable Lady MacBeth." Terry chuckles at the thought, Miss Alex Sokova, was a decidedly different kind of woman than her flirtatious cousin.
"Huh? What'dya mean? 'Lady MacBeth' isn't from one of your old booky guys! I was talking about the real one on late night TV! You know, the one with the Dracula skunk hair and dress cleavage that goes down to…oh, wait. Her name is Lady Elvira, and she's the horror Mistress of the Dark! Dunno who Lady MacBeth is. My bad." The night owl who watched way too much junk past 2AM, runs a confused hand through his navy curls. "And, yeah. You're right." Then, going back to the original subject, Sayer agrees with his taller, more learned brother. "I don't think she could put up with it anyway." Sayer shrugs, his stonewashed jeans going the way of his t-shirt.
"The smell of it, you mean?" Terry folds those as well, handing the two neatened articles of clothing into Sayer's hands as he's about to leave for his bedroom.
"Nahhh. All those women who'd be crawling all over me if I wore it, of course!" Sayer gives his brother a wicked smirk, as Terry shakes his head with a smile. "Poooooor Rob." Sayer loved to pick on his shorter sibling, even when he wasn't present. "'Night, Ter." He tosses over his shoulder casually, then adds as an afterthought. "You for one sure don't need any musk to get Susie to…" His eyes roll innocently in his head, his mouth in that perpetual smirk.
"Good NIGHT, Sayer." Terry says authoritatively, closing the bedroom door in Sayer's smiling face. Shaking his head at Sayer's funny ways, he goes out to the balcony, his eyes gaze up at the star-filled sky.
"Susan…" Terry whispers into the night, seeing in his mind, his beautiful lady silhouetted in the moonlight.
Susan and Alex join the three boys for breakfast the next morning in the hotel's dining room, as Michelle had called earlier to say that she'd be there after a few "errands."
After breakfast, Terry takes Susan out for a stroll around town, and Alex and Sayer disappear to who knows where again, on that motorcycle, leaving Robin very much alone in his hotel room, anxiety over tonight beginning to overwhelm him.
The day rolls by, otherwise unfettered, as Michelle arrives late in the afternoon with the high-priced clothes they had selected yesterday at the fashionable Paris runway. Not much altering had needed to be done on their slinky evening dresses, for our women had bodies as well formed as any of the models who were on display.
Returning from their outing, Susan leaves Terry and goes to her room, and what she finds inside sends her into awestruck surprise. A dozen white roses, beautifully arranged in a violet tinted blown glass vase, was awaiting her on the vanity. Many little boxes were placed around it, several wrapped parcels lay on the floor beneath it, and on the Louis XV bed, was lying something long and delicately wrapped in white tissue paper.
Going to the vanity, Susan gently removes the card buried within the beautiful roses. Slipping the card from the envelope, which only had the title "My Lady" inscripted upon it, she reads the message inside:
'Only you can surpass the gentle touch of a rose, my timeless rose without a thorn.'
The sweet poetry brings tears to Susan's eyes, for she knows who it is from.
Only he could say such things that speak to my heart… Susan smiles as she goes to her bedside, gently unwrapping his gifts with curiosity. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees just what it is…
"Oh, Terry…" She sighs, running her long fingers over the ebony black velvet dress she had so longed for the other day at the runway. How did he know? She lifts the soft velvet to her body. How did he know I wanted to wear this for him? She smiles blissfully, finding the packages on the vanity overflowing with garnets and diamonds encrusted on sparkling silver chains, necklaces and earrings to be draped around her, in that dazzling evening gown. A pair of elegant high heeled shoes completed the ensemble in the parcel on the floor.
"Oh!" Susan giggles, with a tear or two of joy, running down her blushed cheeks, as she brushes her long hair in the mirror, readying herself to put on that gorgeous dress.
He cares so much for me. Susan smiles at her reflection, never before she had met him, had she experienced the wonder of someone caring for her so deeply, to so easily just give to her such thoughtful gifts. I can't wait wear all the jewels you've showered on me!
For you, my darling. The tall, slender woman smiles in an anticipated excitement of being the 'belle of the ball' that she had not felt even close to in millennia. Beginning to undress, Susan's glistening eyes were drawn to the black velvet dress and sparkling jewelry, glimmering in the emerging moonlight.
"Where have you two been?" Michelle, looking quite lovely in her long, black and white polka-dotted silk fashion she had been trying on, demands in a hyper voice of Sayer and Alex as they return long past sunset after a thrilling afternoon spent hitting Paris' enticing, seamier side, discothèque dance halls, boîte de nui clubs and all.
Je'taime
Finding myself now with you
I'm reaching for this love affair with you
My heart longs to take you and make you all my own
But what Alex found most tantalizing of all was when her infinitely musically talented singer had paused in their slow dance on one floor to boldly leap up on the jazzy French band's stage to 'borrow' the friendly saxophonist's gleaming gold instrument.
Je'taime
Hearing your voice more and more
Whispered thoughts of love inside me are real
Like stars shining beautiful gold deep in my soul
Sayer Starr proved to be every bit as silky smooth as his velvety voice was with the saxophone's sexy tones that played new chords directly to Alex's pleasantly surprised heart. Hitting every romantic note of their Parisian theme his musical ear had picked up, just like that, to the applauding admiration of the players and the audience, the gorgeously confident, dark-eyed performer began to serenade his intended 'je'taime' in a very sensual manner. With love of music—and Alex—in his soul, Sayer proved to be extremely adept on the woodwind instrument that expressed the beat of their maturing love affair, with no hesitation.
You never cease to amaze me, Starr…So many hidden talents…I want to learn more of you… Je'taime...
"Out." Omitting all of that vivid recollection in her love inspired, only partially intoxicated mind, Alex answers simply, not finding it necessary to explain herself nor her curiously roiling emotions, not even to Michelle.
"Well, for heaven's sake! You only have half an hour before the chauffeur is to collect us! Hurry up and get ready, Amara! Your dress is in your room." Michelle herds her unruly friend out the door of the Three Lights' suite.
"Michelle, it will take me only a few minutes to get dressed." Alex wonders what all the rush was about.
"Amara! A proper lady needs at least two hours to be dressed and fully prepared for a ball. I've been getting ready all afternoon." They could hear Michelle saying, exasperated, through the hallways.
"Michelle. How did I ever let you talk me into this..." The door slams, cutting off Alex's frustrated, yet resigned voice to take on this new challenge in fashion not of her own independent choice.
"Well, Sayer? Could you have cut it any tighter?" Robin, still primping at his bow tie in the mirror, prods this latecomer as well with a biting criticism.
"Yeah, yeah. You've been getting ready all afternoon I bet, Rob? 'Like a proper lady?'" Sayer takes the held out tuxedo from Terry (he, too, looking very dashing in his own) and disappears into the room before Robin has a chance to say something else as sour as the expression on his handsome face.
"And your tie's still crooked!" Sticking his head back out, Sayer shoots his final parting at Robin, who, though satisfied a moment ago, wheels himself back in front of the mirror,. He wanted to look "just right" for this big event, knowing everyone's scrutinizing gaze would be upon him this evening.
"What do you think, Terry? Everything has to be just right for Michelle." Robin fusses at the bow tie, asking his more pleasant brother his view. All the while, Robin's mind was trying to conjure the correct words to impress Michelle's parents—especially her severe mother, who seemed to take a natural dislike him already.
"Perfect." Terry smiles generously as he goes out the door to collect his own lady for the ball.
Hearing a knock at the door, Susan hurriedly finishes putting the second dazzling dangling diamond earring on, checking herself over in the mirror quickly, before she answers the call.
Satisfied with what she sees in the mirror, the tall, stately female opens the door while still holding her breath.
"Susan, are you—?" Terry was about to ask if she was ready, when he stops, mid sentence. Uncharacteristically speechless, his breath catches in his throat at the vision of beauty standing before him.
"Yes, I'm almost ready." Susan blushes, as his gaze travels, like a soft wisteria caress, down her long velvet body. The model on the runway was not nearly as eye appealing.
"Susan, my lady. You will be the most beautiful woman in all of Paris tonight—no, I'm wrong—in all of the galaxies. I am the most fortunate man alive." He whispers, finally able to speak. Susan ushers him into her room, both jewels and velvet gleaming in the light.
"No, I'm the lucky one." She smiles, her eyes sparkling, too, as she looks down, gesturing at the dress clinging to her, the chains of silver and jewels hanging on her. "Thank yo—" She starts to say, but Terry presses a finger to her lips.
"Please. You never have to thank me, my lady. I want to do these things for you." He smiles, gratified eyes soaking up her shapely figure.
"How did you know I wanted this dress?" Modest Susan smiles, turning to look in her vanity's mirror one more time.
"Because I too wanted to see you in it." Terry gingerly touches the silver chains draped around Susan's bare shoulders, gently straightening them, and pulling them upwards, just a little bit as not to garner any other masculine interest at the soiree tonight…
To whit, Susan places her hands upon his, and slides the risqué placed chains back down to her lower shoulders. Her eyes twinkle up at him mischievously, with a tantalizing look Terry just could not ignore.
He kisses Susan's moist red lips long and hard, his hands going around the suppleness of her tight dress, the velvet adding to the softness beneath his touch. As she was in ecstasy of her Terry's timely touch, Susan wonders, with the further inspiration of this astounding dress, what more could be awaiting her on this specially exhilarating night.
"Come on, Amara! We're going to be late if you continue to dawdle!" Whispering in the hallway behind her, Michelle intonates as she and Alex return to the Three Lights' room to claim their escorts for the night. Once she let herself inside without a knock, the aqua beauty (looking even more gorgeous and refined than the model in that fashionably chic designer silk dress haute Paris vogue ensemble chosen at the runway) found an anxiety ridden Robin calmly trying to collect his thoughts—and his courage—where he sat on the edge of the settee.
He himself was in fine model form with his stylish silver coif just so, his sleek physique so perfectly attired for the exclusive and ritzy white tie event. Debonair Robin Starr wore a dashing white scarf loosely slung around his svelte black tuxedo, complete with stylish handkerchief, white satin bowtie and white velveteen embroidered vest.
Michelle looked like a cross between a gleaming, glistening gossamer Gibson girl, a filmy pearlescent shawl sea foam cloud, and an ethereal, aesthetically pleasing, wave curled angel. All of the above Robin would walk through fire for—and probably would tonight with that fire-breathing dragon mother of hers as he sensuously slid his hands slowly up her gloved arms, pulling her into his warm embrace romantically.
"Michelle, you are truly incomparable—the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Though enjoying one another in this fleeting moment, both psychics held the bad premonition lingering in the back of their nervous young minds going into this foreign fickle French folly foray of a soiree hosted in this celebrated daughter's honor—but really to put her new beau on display.
A little hesitantly—or was it more embarrassed?—Alex steps through the door, following Michelle. She shocks Robin at how a tough, tomboyish, rough and tumble female could transform into such a dazzling—and voluptuously tall and shapely, though Robin chides himself at the frightening thought— woman because of that very red, very slinky, very revealing dress.
"Don't look at me like that, shrimp." Alex catches his interested stare. "Remember, I'm only wearing this because some jerk dared to—" She starts to complain again, Michelle rolling her delicately eye-lined blue eyes at hearing this excuse for the thousandth time, when Alex stops still in her tracks.
Sayer starts coming into the room at the sound of her voice, the bottle of his signature cologne still open in his hand spreading the top scent of lemons and hyacinth across the room.
"Ally..." He whispers, gazing at her approvingly when the tight in all the right places, glitter red dressed specimen of a woman causes his eyes to pop out.
"What?" She says nonchalantly, such frivolous things as makeup, jewelry and dresses didn't make a bit of difference to her, as they were foremost on the minds of most others of the feminine persuasion.
Nonetheless, deep inside, Alex was secretly pleased at the way Sayer Starr's eyes lit up—like the glow of pure starlight upon seeing her heavenly body so swathed in his preferred color of red.
"You look…you look…" He pauses, for once at a loss for words. Nothing presented itself as good enough to describe her, Sayer's mind reeling as he clutched for the apposite adjective.
"Oh, that good, huh?" Alex says sarcastically at his "non-compliment," though the sparkle in his eye and licked moisture on his lips told her all that she needed to know.
"Ally..." Sayer's sweet side comes out as he blushes, looking down from her questioning gaze, seeing only a stunningly gorgeous person standing there in her open toed red slippers to the top of her bejeweled head. "Wow." He whispers, magnetically drawing nearer for closer inspection.
And now it was Alex's turn to look away from his intent gaze, the thickening scent of the well-dressed—for a nice change—man's heady cologne starting to get to her.
"Well, are we ready, then?" Michelle tosses a shawl around her bare shoulders, going to Robin. He adjusts its placement on her gently, carefully, like admiring a fragile porcelain statue of unimaginable value he did not wish to break or mar. Robin's conscious thoughts had already silently expressed to Michelle how much he appreciated her abject beauty the moment she had entered the suite.
"You are a masterpiece, Mademoiselle. May I have the privilege of escorting you to the ball tonight, Princess?" Robin did not hold back any fairytale romance mental caresses, though, his mind petting Michelle just when she needed him, just where she needed him, just how she needed him.
"You may, monsieur." Lost in his pale green eyes affixed on her that reminded the smitten woman of a cool sky's aura, Michelle was glad she could easily pick up that aptly named, arousing scent of musk she had just bought for him as Robin offers her his arm.
"Perfume!" But the entrancement halts abruptly when Michelle stops her reverie in the soft minty field of Robin's eyes and scent, which caused her to suddenly recall something "extremely important" had been forgotten.
"Amara! You forgot to put on your perfume!" The look on Michelle's face made it seem like the end of the world as she tried to dress her boyish Amara properly in the ways of a lady.
"You know most of that overpowering flowery ick makes me ill. So I didn't bring any of the stupid stuff." The free spirit who enjoyed being outside in the fresh breeze, could never abide being trapped inside any stuffy, old lady perfume filled rooms. Besides, Alex felt like a dummy on parade with all of Michelle's over-pampering.
"I'll get you some of mine, then." Awash in the elegant marine note of geraniums and patchouli herself, Michelle was determined for Amara to be proper tonight. And what was a lady without her perfume? Michelle was just about out the door when Alex stopped her.
"Don't bother, Michelle." Alex raises her hand, simply taking the bottle of men's cologne from Sayer's hand as he was just about to put some on, and splashes it generously onto her neck and bare shoulders.
"There. It seems I can put up with this one. Are you happy now?" She smirks as Michelle looked about to collapse while Alex breathes in Sayer's rich, yet sweetly subtle scent deeply, nodding in testament at her tolerance to the more flower-fruity than strong perfumy smell.
"Amaralexis! Men's cologne!? What will everyone think?!" Michelle cries out snootily at the social "no-no," burying her face in her hands at the proving to swiftly be 'ruined night.'
Reveling in the 'scandalous behavior,' rebel Alex shoves the bottle back at Sayer, who takes it and finishes putting some on himself.
"Good idea, Ally. Now all the guys there'll all know that you and me belong together, eh, my sparkling strawberry rose?" He smirks, capping his fresh fruit scented 'night sky' cologne with a triumphant flourish.
"Another crack like that and I'll show you where you belong. You'll be seeing stars, either way." Seething the growled threat not at all befitting for so finely attired lady, Alex gives Sayer a raised fist and just as warning a glance in return for his fruity sauciness.
"Didn't you just say you could 'put up' with me?" Sayer was wearing such an over-satisfied smile that Alex wanted to wipe off every ounce of the fragrance (as well as his smug smirk) from her skin, but it had already pervaded.
Like how you've gotten under my skin, too, starman…
"I was talking about the cologne, you jackass." Sophisticated evening dress, polished high heels, elegant jewelry, or not—Alex Sokova would never change from being as free, wild, harsh and changeable as the wind.
And that's just how Sayer Starr preferred to have her.
The chauffeured limousine soon arrives, as Terry and a rosy-cheeked Susan with a white rose placed in her hair, join the two couples in the hallway.
On the drive to her parent's château to this oh-so-important ball (more a showing of Robin's fitness to be accepted or not into the prominent Moreau clan) Michelle gives out some final instructions.
"Now, everyone. The key to being a successful guest is to just nominally listen to whatever the person you're speaking with has to say. Just nod at the end of each sentence. Only once in a while must you throw in a "That's true" or "Yes, that is so" when it seems required."
"Ladies, you may politely giggle at the end of a story, or simply smile bewitchingly. See? Like this." Michelle brandishes one of her most charismatic smiles. "Don't—whatever you do—start up stories about anything common, like car mechanics or sports, for instance." She flashes a quick glance across the dark limo towards where Alex was sitting, who shakes her head at her uptight best friend mockingly.
"And the weather is sooo out of date. Everyone knows you are commenting just to not to be stiff and confirms you are uninterested." Michelle's condescension shows as she was giving this advice to her 'of less social standing' companions, who each exchange either amused or exhausted looks with one another over her head. The short ride from the hotel to the château was about over, and Michelle quickly turns her full attention to two of the limo's occupants in particular.
"And please, I beg of you, Amara, Sayer. Please don't cause any scenes." Michelle knew quite well both of her friends' penchant for inviting trouble.
"Who, us?" Sayer says innocently, a fake hurt expression crossing his handsome face.
"Yes, you!" Having relatively stayed silent heretofore, Robin whispers accusingly, frantically. The closer they get to the Moreau chateau, the more he felt about to implode.
"Promise me." Michelle says seriously to her known-to-be-uncivilized friends.
"All right. We'll behave." Alex smiles, while jabbing with her glazed golden nails Sayer's hand which was crawling up her leg in the darkness.
"Arghhh!" Sayer exclaims at the instant pain caused, then joins in with Alex with the most innocent of smiles at Michelle and Robin, neither of whom look entirely convinced. But there was no time for further reproach—the limo had arrived.
Terry and Susan, who were quiet the whole trip in the darkness (Sayer didn't have to wonder why, smirking to himself in the dim shadows of the limo's spacious interior …hee hee hee).
The limo suddenly paused its trek at its destination and the lights flash on when the doors open and Susan hurriedly wipes lipstick from Terry's mouth with a handkerchief. The white rose that once resided in her hair, was strewn across the seat in delightfully crushed petals now.
"Are you two ready? Or should we tell the driver to take another swing around the block for the other minute or two needed?" Sayer smirks, leaning his head back in as he gets out. Watching Robin and Michelle walk in front of him, arm in arm, he turns to Alex as she appears from the limo, the moonlight and the stars illuminating her sparkling gown just so.
Sayer very gentlemanly over the top, extends his arm out to her as he watches Terry do the same for Susan, and he waits for Alex to take it. She eyes him suspiciously, hesitant for a moment.
"You promised. We have to be 'proper,' right?" Sayer whispers to her with a smile, as Alex slides her shimmering red arm through his black tuxedoed one.
"Only for tonight. Tomorrow we go back to being improper." Alex says teasingly.
"I dig the sound of that." Sayer squeezes her arm to his chest, knowing tomorrow Alex will be just as dazzling to him in a long pair of slacks and a men's suit and tie as she is tonight. My unmatchable Ally, he thinks proudly as they walk down the moonlit path together towards the palatial château's huge double doors.
Opulence and extravagance were the words that came to mind when describing the scene before them. An all-out social occasion, the richest and finest bred in France and even some elite others from nearby on the continent had turned out for the excellent dining and society company. And yes, a chance to be presented to innocent young Mademoiselle Michelle Moreau's new beau, who, if all went well, would one day be rather influential in France's high society.
Not to mention political and economic matters in this sector of the world as well, to which the current Moreau clan had quite an influential hand in.
"There you are, mon cherie! I did think for a few moments you were going to be more than fashionably late." Josephine Moreau greets her daughter with a kiss on both cheeks.
"Yes, Mamère." The forceful, assertive, pushy Michelle of moments ago in the car smiles sweetly, becoming suddenly weak in her even more domineering mother's commanding presence.
"Good evening, Madame Morea—" Beside a glowing Michelle, Robin begins to politely address her, but the lady seemingly chooses to ignore him, walking right past and taking Alex's hands in hers.
"Amaralexis, my beautiful girl! You look more like your mother every time I see you! So much nicer in a fine dress, n'est-ce pas?" Her French accent was thick, as Madame Moreau kisses both of her cousin's little girl's cheeks.
"Madame." Alex nods with a courteous smile, finding herself liking Michelle's mother's authoritarian ways more now (and her treatment of men, too, especially that shrimp) than in the past.
"You have turned out exquisite! We must show your cousin off to our guests, mon petite cherie." She coos to Michelle at Alex's fashionable evening gown and definitely more feminine air than she'd ever accepted before.
Alex merely smiles at the 'compliment,' as stiffly as she felt in this practically pasted on red sparkling get-up.
"You can say that agai—" Sayer starts to say when Alex's pointed heel smashes down on his foot, shutting him up.
"What was that, young man?" Madame looks at Sayer questioningly.
"Uhhhh, you can say it's a…nice party?" Sayer fills in, put on the spot.
"Yes, you can." Michelle's mother responds amiably enough with a cocked head. She instantly did not like something about this young man with the wild rock star appearance. Perhaps we will see what to do with this one, too, my little Amara. Now that you've turned out to be such a fine lady, you will have your choice of many.
"Ah! You have arrived." The lord of the Moreau manor comes to join the group from where Henri Moreau had been chatting with some high-up French politicians.
"Papère!" Michelle sincerely smiles at her father's loving kiss. At least he had the courtesy enough to make eye contact and exchange nods with Robin, and then with Sayer and Terry, as well.
"Mademoiselles." He kisses both Alex and Susan's hands, graciously adding a very French, "Enchante" as he looks at Susan approvingly. Then the older man exchanges a nod and smile with the young woman who had given his wife so much trouble and worry when she was living here with them as a girl, patting her hand patronizingly.
Quite a woman now you are, even after flying out of our protective wing, little swallow troublemaker. He shakes his head with a smile at the memories.
"Tres vous charmant sembler. (You all look very charming.)" Henri says amiably to the three ladies.
"May I say the same of you, Madame. Vous êtes la dame la plus charmante. votre mode chic définit la tendance de toute la pièce. (You are the most charming lady. Your chic fashion sets the trend for the entire room.)" Terry bows in Madame Moreau's direction, as she smiles at this brilliant young man's thorough understanding of the French language with a modest fluttered hand down to her long trained gown.
She was perhaps, no longer very shapely, but still very becoming a woman. Josephine was so pleased with this complimentary young man, that she wished for a moment that it was him and not the other one that Michelle was interested in.
Ah well, c'est la vie. (Such is life.) She nods back to him kindly.
"Please enjoy the soiree." She extends her hand out invitingly after Terry had brushed his gentlemanly lips to it. "Dinner will be served shortly. In the meantime, some of my guests would be very interested in meeting you, especially, I think." Madame Moreau at last turns her gaze to Robin, with a forced, yet polite nod and the very smallest of slight smiles.
"Madame." Robin nods back, wishing Terry didn't have to show him up all the time. Especially in front of Michelle's parents with all that French and good manners. What can I do? Well, they should just like me for who I am, and that's that. Robin sullenly decides as Michelle trots him off to the oh-so-wonderful task of introductions to people who had a fixed opinion of him already, he was sure.
After several introductions to nosy old biddies, and the highest class socialites this side of the continent, Robin was grateful when Pierre the butler rang the dinner bell, with the crowd swarming around him made Robin feel more like a circus monkey than a man.
Dispersing to their appointed seats at the dinner table, Robin was now glad he only had to deal with those few surrounding him at the table in close vicinity. Though he was certain Madame Moreau placed him amongst the most talkative and nosily inquisitive of the bunch, one particular old gentleman (with a very thick and hard to understand European accent) questioned him on every subject imaginable, making him feel like he was a victim of the Spanish inquisition (French style, of course) than a dinner guest. Robin's meal, only picked at, was not going down well at all.
But somehow his love for Michelle drives him, and his deep connection with her spurs introverted Robin to unusually muddle his way through, without offending anyone or putting a foot wrong. Though trying to avoid all the deception she had set him up with, this candid star of Healer keeps up the appearance of a well-bred young man who somehow overcame the odds to become a success in famous circles.
Feeling both her parents' gazes bearing down upon him through the entire meal, Robin feels a certain triumph at their semi-appeased nods exchanged with each other as the dinner breaks up and the guests return to their milling around, reveling in each other's company.
"That wasn't so bad." Robin mentally projects the positive message of his relieved heart to an elated Michelle, who giggles and squeezes his arm, feeling the tide going her way.
Maybe I'll make it, after all. He thinks as they enter the Moreau Manor's Great Hall, rejoining the rest of the guests.
The party continues with a musical duet, Michelle and Alex giving a recital of sorts, to everyone's rapt attention, impressing them all with refined violinist skills and deft pianist fingers. In her element, her heart at ease in Robin's eyes, Michelle's grace and poise exuded from the stage.
Truly she was a Moreau, a dazzling example of classic etiquette. And though her perspective partner did indeed have high expectations set upon him, Robin Starr's own fine deportment and inner refinement appeared to be approved for he and Michelle to take on the role of the next generation of France's society leaders.
The mood of the soiree relaxed now that they had been introduced to 'Mademoiselle Moreau's stylish young man,' and couples begin to dance to the romantic melodies, with the finest orchestra in all of France as the duo's backup, as they make beautiful music play throughout the crowded hall.
Entertaining those around with his own good manners and intelligent conversation, Robin's 'adopted' brother Terry takes his gorgeous lady out onto the dance floor, enchanting the audience with their flowing charm together on full display.
As promised, behaving (that meant keeping his mouth zipped shut nearly completely) Sayer's only enjoyment in this boring old house was watching Alex dazzle both men and women alike. Onstage and then in the crowd forming around her, there was something dignified and attractive in her natural charm and beauty that always drew people to her. Those in the know were all pleasantly shocked to find the outcast cousin had turned out to be such a fine lady, after all, as well.
Staying quiet outside of the group around Alex, feeling the wanting gazes of several (not too bad looking) French mademoiselle wall flowers as the music plays on, Sayer's wandering thoughts look up to see Alex's hand extended out to him.
"Aren't you going to ask a girl to dance?" She smiles at his surprised expression, impressed by his behavior thus far.
"Maybe if there was a girl here I knew—I only see a woman before me now." Sayer teases back, taking her hand in his as she leads him out to join the dancing couples.
"Don't tempt me to go there tonight, my Star Fighter." Alex whispers so only her aroused celestial soldier could hear as she leads him out to the dance floor.
Your choice of anyone in this crowd and you still choose me? We do have something, don't we? Sayer thinks to himself as he feels Alex's arms wrap around him as she takes the lead, and they begin to sway to the romantic music of Michelle's violin.
Sayer was now feeling completely in his element, dancing one of his favorite ways to express himself. Previously hobnobbing with those high-class snobs was not his cup of tea. Secretly laughing into each other's eyes at all this pomp and circumstance surrounding as they dance rhythmically to the music, Alex spots Terry and Susan dancing together just a couple or two away. Susan's head was pressed tightly to his chest, both their eyes closed, seeming terribly in love with each other.
Maybe Susan was more right than I gave her credit for. Alex recalls her conversation a week or so back, when she told the millennia older—and perhaps wiser in the ways of love—Sailor Soldier that 'all men were the same.'
Maybe there are special exceptions. Alex gazes from Terry's blissful expression at Susan to the same blissful one on the man she was dancing with herself, believing she and Susan might just have found two of the very extraordinary few.
And what do I—not to mention all of Paris now—think of that third Light of yours who's on trial tonight, my Michelle…?
My darling, you are more than wonderful. Susan lets the tall, slender, yet wide-shouldered young composer lead her in their romantic dance across the floor. Terry was as good a dancer as he was at everything else—in other words, perfect, in Susan's eyes. In your arms…I never want to be anywhere else… Her eyes closed, pressed to Terry's warm chest, Susan could still his violet eyes haunting her every thought, as her magenta ones were fascinating his.
Susan, my love, you look exquisite tonight—as you do every night. But tonight…perhaps tonight is the night. Will I have a chance to ask? My lady…if I could be so fortunate… As the pair dance like hand in velvet glove, Terry thinks adoringly of her, when he feels a sudden tap on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he sees a rather portly looking man with a balding head, but full beard, asking him to move aside.
"Pardon, M'sieur." His French was thick with wine along with high-class snobbery. Terry had to force himself in true gentlemanly fashion to let Susan dance with another man, as was required of tradition and etiquette, even if he would really rather not.
Reluctantly, Terry steps aside, almost changing his mind when he sees the plaintive look in Susan's eyes. The wide girth man, jaunty with wine, dances her off away from him, leaving Terry standing alone, amongst the crowd of couples, his arms feeling empty without her in them.
"Charmante, charmante, Mademoiselle." The man begins to murmur in her ear, pulling an unwilling Susan closer to him. "Je avoir besoin vous. Vous êtes très beau... Très beau en effet. Partons d'ici ensemble maintenant...…"
As Susan struggles subtly, frightened in his grasp, she knows not what he said in the foreign tongue. But the amorous tone in his voice was enough for her to know what he wanted as she tries to escape his drunken grip. But the big man was stronger than he looked as he holds onto the slender female in black slinky dress with one hand, the other touching her in places where she didn't want anyone, but Terry, to touch…
"Excuse me, Sir," Susan's heart leaps as she hears Terry's deep voice, rumbling low with anger from behind them, as he taps the rude man on the shoulder. "The lady does not approve of your attentions," he says, his voice threatening, but still checked.
"Au contraire, mon ami. She does, I am in belief, she will more approve later." In his broken English, he takes a wriggling Susan and begins to dance her away again with his unwanted attentions. Seeing the desperation in his love's eyes, as she looks to him, fear written on her lovely, timeless features that had little experience in such situations where her taboo planetary powers could not be utilized, Terry loses control.
Grabbing the man's chubby arm, and pulling him with such force, he could have broken it were it not so well-padded. Terry, in one strong motion, sends the man flying across the dance floor with a Maker powerful right hook. He then takes a dazed Susan in his arms and leads her out the large double doors without a single glance back. The butler was left standing with their wraps, which he immediately brought to the front upon seeing the couple's intention to leave the premises, an ominous slam of the doors in Pierre's astonished face.
The entire hall elapses into mortified silence, even the orchestra ceases its soft background strains, while Michelle nearly drops her beloved violin to the ground at the scene.
"All right, Ter! You showed that loser!" Sayer's unwelcome remark breaks the silent room, the crowd as one gasping in horror at the out and out hooliganism just displayed before their snobbish presences as many hurry to help the poor 'victimized' member of their high society from his collapsed state on the floor. The secrétaires d'État's jaw was bleeding profusely, staining his pristine white vest and shirt front. Even Madame Moreau and her husband rush to his aid, apologizing for the rudeness of that hot-headed young man to this well-respected member of France's leading political party.
Robin's eyes widen in disbelief that his calm and collected brother—the one they thought would never be any problem—would do this to Michelle, and him.
"That is a secretary of state!" Michelle mentally gasps, her eyes going wide. Instantly, she leaves her violin to go to Robin for support at this totally unexpected, distressing event that shy, meek Susan was at the center of.
As for poor Robin, he was holding his head in his hands, suddenly feeling his chances slipping away. Meeting Michelle's shocked gaze, he could sense she felt the same way, proven by the displeased glances they both receive from Madame Moreau after the older woman has her own doctor (thankfully present) attend to the unfortunate politician. Slowly, the hall quiets down, though now instead of looking him over approvingly, the guests all whisper about his brother's little escapade.
"Oh, Michelle…" Robin whispers to her as they timidly begin the dance again to normalize the soiree again at her father's gesture to the musicians. But it was hard, knowing everyone was talking about him and his uncouth brother.
"Maybe it's all right..." But Robin simply didn't like the uncertain tone in Michelle's wobbling waves voice. "If things were really bad, Mamère would just walk out." She tries to brighten up his depressed, dimmed mood, and her own, too.
"Does it get worse than what just happened?" Robin wishes he had not asked, the words just finishing coming from his mouth when a sudden resounding SMACK! could be heard clear across the hall.
"Close your eyes. Count to three…" Robin hears Michelle chant in his mind, both of them already having a pretty good idea of who was at the bottom of the trouble, this time.
When they open their eyes after that count of three, Robin and Michelle do find exactly what they had expected. In a situation similar to Susan's, Alex was asked to dance by a man other than Sayer, who shockingly had an even harder time accepting this than Terry did for some reason. Etiquette meant very little to Sayer, so he stood firm against the idea of this posh-accented, specially invited champion rugby player take his place.
Honed to be active in athletics of all sorts, our starry-eyed sports enthusiast was aware that English 'rugby' was a combination of soccer, basketball, and American football, all three of which Sayer Starr loved and excelled at. So he took this as a kind of challenge from a fellow athlete, and was not going to relinquish the 'ball,' so-to-speak. That is, until Alex had physically pushed him aside, warning eyes reminding him of their promise to Michelle, and the trouble that had occurred already, so Sayer had relented.
The comely, talented, famous young sportsman she had agreed to dance with, named 'Austen,' was perfectly sober, perfectly well-bred, spoke in a perfect English accent—and was perfectly an outspoken, obnoxious jerk. After a minute or two of the rugby star's (fittingly nicknamed the 'Lancaster Lip' ) chit-chat, that guessed his extremely fit dance partner's profession, bold, quick tackler hands soon slid up, up, up Alex's long slit red evening dress as the slow dance progressed to assess her ahem runner's thigh muscles.
But the golden award winning sprinter was having none of it, on or off the field, with her quick response immediate.
SLAP!
Having been confronted with male sexism in her athletic experience of 'intruding in a man's world,' the Sailor of the Wind had to physically hold herself back, meaning that she didn't deck him across the room as Terry did. Even though she could and so wanted to, that would have been just TOO unladylike for her Michelle to bear on this trying night. So, instead Alex whacked him hard across the face, enough to leave a bright red hand print on one cheek to match the crimson of her shimmering gown. That in itself was enough to constitute a scene, but the fun wasn't over yet.
To Michelle and Robin's utter horror, they watch Sayer, who had been leaning against the drink table, trying to calm himself with a glass of 'punch' while Alex danced with another, suddenly take off like a laser beam across the room. Grabbing the unknowing Brit before he had a chance to even register what was happening, Sayer violently shoves him across a nearby confection table, resulting in a cake and dessert sopping mess.
"Don't you EVER touch my woman again!" This fiercely agitated Fighter's dark blue, dangerous eyes flash ferociously down at the stockier framed young man pinned beneath him.
"STARR!" Alex's deepest voice commands, rushing to Sayer, pulling at his arm—which was starting to palpitate pale blue with anger energy beneath his tuxedo suit—to stop.
"You come near her again, those hands won't be able to hold a football, never mind do anything else with your little balls!" Familiar with American football more than the British version this entitled loser knew, Sayer's usually light and humored voice darkens threateningly the shorter man, his serious face an ominous cloud. Expelling a breath, this intense star's supercharged grip on the astonished 'Man of the Match's' shirtfront loosens, but not before shoving him down hard into a banana cream pudding bowl, sending a second splattering mess all over the man's jacket and trousers.
"I took care of it already! I don't need you to—" Alex hisses low to Sayer, realizing her breath was wasted when he was this livid as the two of them stood over the flabbergasted famed, Premiership titled Rugby player's now hapless form.
Robin shoots a look to Michelle's parents, and his heart sinks in his chest as he watches Madame Moreau indignantly leave the room, her husband close behind her. The astonished guests soon decide to leave this madhouse as well, with the crème-pied, indignant English footballer first to take off, as the hall empties out on this now very unsociable occasion.
"Michelle, what can we—?" Robin's mind searches for a way to rectify the situation coming up horribly blank, as he turns to her. Michelle's large eyes brim over with tears at the ruined evening, at her ruined chances, at her ruined life, as she runs from the hall, racing up the spiral staircase to her room, and throws herself on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Michelle…" Robin whispers, about to go after her, when a firm hand halts his shoulder. That's when her father appears before him, a stern expression on his greying features, an extended arm blocking any advancement to pursue after Michelle.
"Please leave my house." He says simply to Robin, motioning him and Sayer towards the front door. He gestures for Alex to go upstairs, but she stands firm with the two cast outs, giving her uncle a challenging expression of where the rebel stood, which he had learned long ago not to dally with.
With a final longing look up the staircase she had disappeared to, Robin was forced to leave with a defeated sigh, along with trouble-making Alex and Sayer right behind him.
"This is all your fault." He hisses as the butler closes the front doors after them with a resounding bang and haughty air of nose stuck up at the three rascals.
"My fault!?" Sayer defends himself, "Terry started it!" He whines, blaming it on his absent brother.
"Yeah, well, you sure did a good job of finishing it!" Robin snaps back, running his frustrated hand through his distressed silver locks.
"That jerk should've learned that he can't mess with—" Sayer was still fuming over that British rugby guy when the door opens again and Pierre the butler wordlessly shoves out three jackets, so surprised by his master's anger at these uncouth ruffians, that he for once forgot himself.
"—us." Sayer finishes, smirking to himself as he stoops down to pick up their coats.
"Did you have to threaten his body parts?" Robin recalls the scene vividly, spitting fire at Sayer as he leads them around the side of the chateau purposefully.
"And did you have to tell them all I'm "your woman!?'" Alex speaks up now, berating Sayer, his words now coming back to her as well. "Let's just get this straight. I am NOT your woman." She would not—not ever—be treated or labeled as a mere possession by any man—or woman, or star—
Or whatever the hell you are today!
"Then, what are you?" Sayer inquires in an argumentative mood, though really wanting to know their current relationship status as he spins around to meet Alex's deep green orbs in the hidden moonlight.
"I'm…" Alex looks away, searching for the right term, but she was not so sure of it herself. That's when her wandering eyes spy Robin beginning to climb a precarious trellis leading up to the second floor of the chateau.
"What are you doing?" She asks incredulously of the comical scene involving her favorite shrimp.
"I'm going to see Michelle. She's shut me out." He had tried to reach out to her mind, but once again finding it closed to him since the high-strung young maiden ran off.
"You're not going to be able to do it that way." She calls up to him. "Believe me, I've tried it." Alex recalls a wild golden-haired youth climbing in and out of the "escape route" of Michelle's window, to the city's freedom, until one day the fairly sturdy rear trellis was "magically" replaced with an old, rickety, antique one, as per Madame's cunning edict.
But did that stop me then? Not a chance.
"Be quiet, Alex! Somebody might he—hea—AHHH!" The shaky trellis rocks to and fro until it finally cracks, Robin and ivy vines and little blue-violet forget-me-nots tumbling to the ground in a heap.
"See?" Alex smirks, hands on hips as Sayer helps his fallen brother up.
"You sure that's 'Chelle's room?" Sayer asks, looking up at the closed window in the moonlight.
"Of course I'm sure!" Both Robin and Alex whisper shout together simultaneously. Then the two stare at one another, and quickly look away, arms folded, disbelieving that they could ever have any thoughts in common.
"All right, then. Ready, Ally?" Sayer mysteriously inquires of his sparkling in red beauty.
"Ready." She smiles knowingly, on the same wavelength, though preoccupied with re-strategizing a plan Robin had no idea what they were up to.
"AHHHHH!"
Each grab hold of his slim body on either side, and they forcefully thrust Robin upward, aiming him directly at the closed window like an ejected star strength and wind catapulted torpedo.
SPLAT!
Robin instantly finds himself pressed against the cold panes of glass, agilely holding himself up somehow on the ledge like a stealthy cat.
"Gotcha up there, Rob!" Sayer whispers loudly, smacking his hands together and sticking one out to his partner, who shakes it.
"Now you just have to see if Michelle wants to let you in." Alex smirks, chuckling at this lark and at how ridiculous Robin looked.
"First he was like a silver backed ape tangled in that web of ivy vines!" Alex chuckles the biting commentary, Sayer soon joins in. "And now he's like a gangly froggy stuck to the window hanging on Michelle's tiny sill!" The dark head and the golden one bend to each other in the unsuppressed laughter at someone still in earshot's expense.
"What're you guys laughing at down there?" Robin hisses angrily, as he lightly taps on the window whilst holding on tightly as not to lose his footing.
"Nothing." Sayer couldn't hold back the laughter while Alex chokes it down, but her eyes were watering with the malicious mirth.
Robin rolls his eyes. How can they be laughing at a time like this!? And it's their fault, too! Poor Michelle!
"Michelle, Michelle!" Robin calls softly, the urgent sound in it partially caused by his slipping fingers.
"Go away!" He could hear her muffled sobs through the window. He realized that she is emotionally sensitive—just like he was—but enough was enough.
"Michelle, we have to talk. Open up to me." Robin bangs now at the window, trying to be authoritative.
"It's all ruined! RUINED!" She cries, distraught, peering at him with wildly running mascara through the window.
"Michelle—LET ME IN—or I'm gonna fall!" Robin demands, beginning to feel the older European structure begin to crumble beneath his feet, though he was surprised when the window quickly slides open.
"Hurry!" Michelle helps tug him in until the pair falls inward, sinking to their knees on the floor of her bedroom, face to face like wide-eyed children.
"Robin!" She throws her arms around him, her hot tears spilling down his neck. "Let's just run away together! Forget this all—take me away from here! Please!" She cries into his ear beseechingly, seeing no other recourse now her immovable mother was surely against their relationship.
"Michelle. I don't think we should—I can't take you away from your parents." In his considering eyes Michelle didn't have to be clairvoyant to see the fear in them.
"You can't?" She asks in a tentative, teary voice, pulling back from his embrace.
"No! It's—it's not right for you. For us. Maybe it's best if we just let them cool down awhile and then I'll—" Robin starts to explain his cautioned reticence to separate this cultured young woman from her family, her status and good name she was accustomed to, that would be looked down upon in high society if she ran off with him. On top of that, his own broken childhood made this lone Healer even less willing than he might be otherwise, even if he was predisposed to tear the woman he loved away from all she knew.
After all, family was a precious commodity in this broken universe.
"You're afraid of my mother." Michelle's distraught mind feels somehow betrayed though, rather than see his good sense and reason from his point of view. For she had quixotically believed he wouldn't just give up on her so easily.
"I'm not afraid of her. I'm just—just—"
How do I tell her I only want everything to go right? That I don't want to anger either of her parents any further? That I want my chances with her to be forever—
"You ARE afraid! Afraid to take me away! Afraid to fight for me!" Fresh tears stream down her disappointed cheeks, as used to getting everything she wants on a silver platter 'perfect' Michelle Moreau's feminine heart and emotional soul begins to unravel at the seams.
"Michelle—it's not that at all—please listen! I'm just—" Robin regrets the words he chose which were obviously not the right ones for her troubled mind, as his whirring mind searches for the correct ones to quell the sea storm raging in her. But with their psychic connection severed and nothing he had uttered thus far reaching her, Robin pauses before speaking again, for he felt he was floundering.
"They were right about you! You are just a seasonal idol! Maybe you aren't good enough if you won't stand up for me, if you don't love me enough to take me away with you!" Sounding like the spoiled little rich girl she was trying to claim independence from, Michelle lashes out rather viciously.
"Michelle, you're not in your right mind. You really don't want me to go against your parents like that. You're just upset and—" Trying to remain calm and not react with hurt, this mature, sensitive souled star believed Michelle's statements were simply clouded by her dismayed emotions.
"If you're so sure they're right, then why don't you just go away like they wish! I don't need you! You're not my whole world! I have Alex! I have my mission to the Princess as a Sailor Soldier! I can take care of myself since you obviously don't want to! My parents were right about you. You know what they said? They told me that 'rock stars are vain creatures who care about nobody but themselves.' Yesterday I would've said they were wrong, but…" Michelle trails off, her intense love for this singular star almost winning out, almost...
"…but now, now I know! It's true! It's all true!" Michelle's tears turn angry at his insensitivity, her raw emotions hurt at his reluctance to hold onto their fairytale romance.
Maybe it's all been only a dream—my mind playing tricks on me that there was someone whose soul reflected mine perfectly… She feels the tears sting her cheeks bitterly.
"Go away! I never want to see you again! Go back to Japan with the others! Go back to Janus for all I care! Just go away!" Suddenly Michelle thrusts open the window again, her hand pointing out, her disappointed face turned away from him purposely.
"Michelle…" Robin begins to plead one more time, though she wouldn't even look at him now. His own sensitive soul was hurt to the core, less by her angry words, and more by her quickness to distrust him—and their bond together—so easily discarded.
"I thought you were the one who would understand me." He concludes forlornly in a despondent whisper, disappearing out the window with one final look into her glassy blue eyes.
I guess, after all. I am truly alone in this universe. Robin feels his heart being ripped asunder in his chest as a dark cloud passes over this forlorn night sky's moonlight, casting a long shadow over the prestigious chateau.
"What do you think is happening up there?" Alex asks, her lip twisting when Robin and Michelle's silhouettes in the window had disappeared further into her bedroom.
"Dunno." Sayer answers nonchalantly, taking in the thick scent of the gardenia bushes nearby. That's when the butler and a maid come out the front door to enjoy them as well, Alex quickly grabbing Sayer's arm to pull him down behind the shrubbery so as not to be seen.
"So, Ally," Sayer watches in amusement as the very old French butler and the very young French maid exchange a few stolen kisses in the garden behind the chateau. Looking back at his own little bit of ooh-la-la, his eyes travel to Alex's rather revealing position. She obviously did not remember how to properly hold herself in that very high slitted gown to not show too much leg.
"Where'd that jerk touch you?" His eyes excited, Sayer suddenly needed to know how far that rough rugby player had gotten on his standoffish beauty's desirable physique.
"Somewhere you never have." Alex smirks, raising her eyebrows at him in an almost dare.
"Where?!" Sayer almost shouts in shock, so loud Alex puts a warning finger to her lips for him to be quieter. Then she shrugs teasingly in their intimate tête-à-tête amid the rose bushes.
"Here?" He boldly just sticks his hand pretty high on her exposed thigh, not wanting to be outdone by any jerky man when it came to this sort of thing and his Ally.
"Higher." Alex shakes her head at his warm touch on her leg that was like none other.
"Here?" Sayer asks a little less confidently, his fingertips touching the very top of her long leg now. Alex shakes her head, green eyes challenging him in the dark.
"Here?!" His small voice cracks as he closes his eyes, and Sayer moves his hand VERY far up her inside leg…his thin fingers going, in fact, a little too far…
And right through her in that way that made both see blinding flashes of steel blue and yellow celestial lights, like that first touch of their fingertips all over again—
"Hey, that jock didn't go that high up." Alex breathes, the sensation of his touch much different from that of the other man earlier. Alex grabs his unsuspecting neck and passionately kisses Sayer as they both collapse totally over into the lush thorny rose bushes beside the chateau.
"Ally, are you stuck?" Sayer huffs from the long, painfully thorny kiss, as he finds her languid body still pressed over his tightly, not pulling back as his rear was pinned into the roses.
You're worth every prick.
"Maybe this sequined red gown has to come off." She teases seductively in his ear, still unmoving from atop him, pressing the wiry man down to the mulch below the bushes now.
"Uhhh—there's Rob, come on! Let's see what happened." Wriggling away from the red hot attraction, Sayer gets himself out of another very tempting situation he wasn't yet ready for. He points up over Alex's bared shoulder upon seeing Robin seeming to wander aimlessly down the garden path past them obscured in the roses.
Alex lets him go, smiling at his sweetness. Always stay like this, Starr. I suppose if you do, I might not mind being—though I will never admit it to you aloud—'your woman,' as you put it back there.
She helps him up from the ground and brushes Sayer off with a few dirt stains and bloody rips from the thorns on both their rented fancy clothes.
But what a hell of a party it was.
"Why so glum, Rob?" Sayer jogs up to his seemingly lost looking brother. "'Chelle's parents catch you and Michelle messing—ahem—around in her room and they threw you out again?" Sayer smiles, thinking this was all one big joke, never realizing that Robin was dying inside.
Alex, on the other hand, did realize it.
"What did Michelle say…?" She asks simply, knowing that dull look in his eye could mean nothing else.
And strangely, she felt pity for him.
"It's over." He answers in two clipped, short words, then aimlessly trudges forward ahead of them out into the dark street in front of the uninviting château.
The cold night air he faced now alone hits Robin Starr hard, its ice biting all the way, deep into this listless Healer's broken, fractured star soul.
...to be continued...