Title: A Parisian Dream 2/?
Author: A-chan (email@example.com)
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4 implied and others
Warnings: None as of now
Categories: Time-traveling, Moulin Rouge-y
Changes: OK, I changed my mind. The whole fic will be from Duo's POV, instead of just the first chapter.
Notes: The first few chapters aren't anything like Moulin Rouge, so if you haven't seen the movie, don't be mislead. There's really nothing super-natural about it like I have in this fic.
Note2: THIS IS NOT A FUSION! MOST OF WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS FIC WASN'T IN MOULIN ROUGE, LET ALONE TAKING THE DIALOGUE FROM THE MOVIE.
The crowd was going wild, tossing hats and wolf whistling. I tuned them out as I sauntered down the steps of the stage to the audience, hips swaying and eyes half closed in a sultry manner. I had on tight, leather pants, the zipper left open just enough that the top of my pubic hairs peeked out. The see-through mesh top I had on was ready to fall off at a sudden movement. The finger-less gloves I had on were also leather and I could feel make-up on my eyelids.
I blew a kiss to a random man at the end of the aisle and his face turned crimson. He was kind of cute, with black-ish hair and chocolate-colored eyes. Very amusing.
Then, I caught sight of someone familiar. Heero. It was unmistakable--the same spiky bangs and soul-searing blue eyes. Why is my heart pounding? Why are my footsteps quickening? And why did I suddenly find myself sprawled across his lap and him kissing me breathless?
He murmured something in my ear. "You're doing wonderfully, Gorgeous."
Damned alarm clock!
I sat up and groaned, holding my aching head and letting the sheets pool to my lap. Ugh, let-lag. I wish I hadn't set the hotel alarm clock the previous night. Glancing down, I saw it lying defeated on the floor. There goes another one. Wonder how much it costs to replace it.
My hand hurts. Cursing, I dragged my pathetic ass out of bed and to the bathroom, where I soaked my poor, abused fingers under the cold spray of the faucet. I leaned against the wall and let my feverish eyebrow rest against the mirror. Upon looking at the reflection, I was surprised to see not the solemn, tired face I'd imagined, but the happy, excited one of a young man who'd just been dreamily (boy, talk about literally) kissed by a heart-stopping crush.
Man, what a dream.
I was shocked stiff at the phone call I received from Quatre that afternoon. He sounded panicked and was talking so fast I had to jog in place to catch up to him.
He paused and panted, and I took the chance to say what I wanted.
"So let me get this straight. That Miss Lorenger was chosen to be the model for a picture advertisement for the Moulin Rouge. But she was hit by a car this morning and the camera guy is pissed as hell."
"And what's more, you want me to take her place?"
A little hesitant. "Yes."
"You know what, Quatre? I'd love to, but you seem to have forgotten one small detail. I'm a guy!"
I know he blushed. "Yes, but you said yourself you're often mistaken for a woman."
Ouch, I really have to choose my words carefully from now on. They always come back to haunt me. It was unnerving.
He continued. "We could make some minor adjustments and you'll pass for sure!"
I didn't know whether or not I should be insulted. "Can't one of the others do it?"
"No, the producers are specifically looking for someone with long, brown hair."
This wasn't the first time my hair's gotten me in trouble, but it sure as hell was one of the most embarrassing!
"Please Duo! It was Trowa's and my responsibility, and you've just got to help us or we'll get fired!"
I could just see him with those huge aquamarine eyes glittering at me and I knew I had lost. So I sighed.
I struggled to keep a sweet smile on my face and myself balanced on one toe (there were props just behind the curtain to keep me up) as sweat practically waterfalled off of me. One drop rolled into my eye and I cursed. Must they keep the lights so hot?!
I fell down the moment after the camera flashed, sending the tiny little skirt I wore flying. Upward. I would've landed rather heavily on my face had a strong pair of arms not appeared out of nowhere to grab me and soften my fall.
Looking up through the mess my unraveled hair made, I saw Heero glowering at me. I felt like a damsel in distress, saved by the brave hero. Ch', there's a pun.
"Thanks," I said weakly.
"Hn, baka," he told me and walked away. Wow, his people skills are just so impressive! Amazing! Why the hell had he not been hired to be a door-to-door salesman or something? I mean, he'd do just wonderful, wouldn't you agree?
"Baka ja nai yo," I protested in a growling tone.
Quatre ran up and helped me stand, after which I ran to the kitchen and drank what I could've sworn was a gallon of icy water. I heard snickers behind me and turned.
I saw two of the biggest, ugliest humans I have ever encountered. They were eyeing me up and down, I especially did not like the way one pair of beady eyes were fixated on my legs and the other pair lingering on my hair.
"Did you want something?" I inquired coolly, flicking the Styrofoam cup in the trash.
They started talking in French at the same time, and I could pick up little bits and pieces of what they were rambl--er, saying. Something about franks and pretty. I saw Quatre just coming around the corner of the hallway and staring wide-eyed at me. I tossed him an easy smile and gestured lightly to the hulking figures towering a good foot and a half over me.
"Oi, mind translating what they're saying here?"
The two guys turned to Quatre and started bellow--er, talking to him. He gulped nervously, gaze flickering between the strangers and me. "Uh, they said you were pretty, and you have to pay them to leave you alone."
I felt my eyebrow rise and I smirked. "Oh, really? Now isn't that interesting? Well, would you be so kind as to tell them that I'm truly flattered, but I don't have any money on me."
Quatre did as I asked.
It was interesting watching the two biggums' faces turn purple and they began stalking toward me. Excitement coursed through my veins and putting the years I'd dedicated to Martial Arts to use, took quick care of them.
Quatre was impressed, I knew that without even looking at him. I grinned and winked, settling a hand on his shoulder and propelling him to the dressing room so I could shower and get into some REAL clothes (it would be a lie to call what I was wearing 'clothes', and I never lied).
As Quatre and Trowa walked me out of the building, I asked them about the two 'threats'.
"They're part of the stage crew," the blonde explained. "They were nice and helpful at first, but they let their strength go to their heads and started bullying people around."
I hitched my bag a little higher on my shoulder. "Why don't you fire them?" It seemed like the sensible thing to do.
Trowa looked at me. "Their strength is needed for moving around heavy objects." Should've thought about that.
I nodded. "But who are they?"
Quatre spoke once again. "Their names are Alex and Mueller. Alex was with us first, then he brought Mueller in. Oh yes, they call themselves the Thunder Cloud Duo--"
Wufei's voice suddenly rang out as he joined us unexpectedly. "But they should be named the Pretzel Makers," he snorted. "Always trying to get dough the twisted way."
I blinked. That sounded like something I would say, therefore, very un-Wufei-y (I'd known him for only a short time, but his personality was easily noticed). "I haven't noticed," I said dryly.
We'd reached the parking lot and we parted to our own ways, Trowa and Quatre going together.
As I stood in front of the building, baking in the sun and waiting for a cab, my mind drifted back to my strange dream. I'd only seen Heero yesterday and haven't even exchanged ten sentences with him, yet, he was haunting my sleep already. I frowned. I don't believe in Love At First Sight, but that was really the only plausible explanation for the circumstances.
"Duo." Heero's sexy, nasal voice interrupted my thoughts most pleasantly. He was in a Cadillac Convertible AC194 with the passenger door open.
"Yes?" I came closer to the car.
I grinned widely and hopped in. I twisted the air condition dial full force and hissed as the cold air connected with my heated skin. Heero glared at me but said nothing. It was a two-minute drive from the Moulin Rouge to the Marriott, even with all the traffic. But when we reached it, Heero didn't even slow down.
"Hey!" I cried, jumping up and banging my head on the cushioned top of the car (so sue me, I wasn't wearing my seat-belt). "Stop!" I all but screamed at him as the hotel got further and further away from my sight.
The bastard just continued to drive calmly. "It was your fault for assuming I'd take you back to your hotel."
I was alarmed to say the least. "Well isn't it natural?"
He was quiet, which was a good thing because I was certain I would've tried to strangle him if he so much as said another word.
So I sulked the rest of the way to wherever he was taking me.
I was ready to jump out of the car the moment Heero crammed on the breaks. But to my horror, the door wouldn't open. Well duh, it was locked. But that's the problem, the lock wouldn't unlock.
I whirled around to glare at him. "Let me out!" I commanded even though I was not really in a position to do so.
He gave me an undecipherable glance, and I fidgeted in annoyance. Finally I couldn't stand this silence and inaction, and recklessly reached for the set of keys dangling from the ignition.
Heero had inhumanly strong hands, I noted when my wrist was snatched in his left hand. I gasped as the bones began grating together and tried to twist out of the grasp.
"Let me g--"
I never finished that sentence, as he was suddenly on top of me in the passenger seat that had reclined without a warning. It was almost as if it did that on its own. Ooh, creepy
I tried to give him a pain in the neck literally with a karate chop, but realized with a panicked curse that I was completely immobile, complete, utterly
In his power.
"What are you going to--mfph!"
He was kissing me breathless, just like in my dream, lips covering mine so thoroughly I was certain I'd suffocate before he released me. Those blue, blue eyes stared straight into my soul, and for the briefest moment, I saw him and myself on a red, heart-shaped bed
He was so demanding with his next kiss, unaccepting of anything but total submission. I wasn't ready to give him that yet.
With a feral growl, I nipped at his lips and thrust my tongue into his mouth. He gasped and I pushed my advantage, throwing a leg around his and an arm around his waist. He groaned and pushed himself up off of me.
He panted as heavily as I did when he finally got back to his side of the car, clutching the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
I straightened my seat and glared at him. "Is that what you wanted?"
He shook his head and got out. As he was walking around to my side, I flipped down the mirror and tried to fix my hair so it didn't look like I'd just broken off a really, really hot make-out session which I had. I sighed when I saw how swollen and red my lips were from our brutal kiss. Ah well, nothing to be done now.
He opened the door for me and I climbed out, pulling at my clothes to make them less rumpled. It didn't work too well.
I noticed for the first time that we'd stopped in front of a historical museum. I was confused, and my face must've shown it because Heero just grabbed my elbow and pulled into the building.
There was a whole room dedicated to the Moulin Rouge, and he led me straight to it. At the center of the room was a model of the Moulin back in the 1890's. For a reason I couldn't comprehend, I stared at it for a long time.
Something something was
Heero came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder and said quietly: "It's accurate."
I snorted at him. "You sound almost as if you've seen it at the time." He stiffened visibly, and I wondered what I'd said.
"That's ridiculous," he finally intoned.
I shrugged. Still, something was odd about this little model Then I caught sight of a sign in front of the door. The words on it were of the smallest font, but it was not the precision it was made with that captured my attention so effectively, but the name that appeared on it.
Duo Maxwell, star of the Moulin Rouge.
*toothy grin* Well?