Subject: Les Deux Belle Femmes Date: Mon, 20 Jun 2005 10:04:08 -0700 From: Kristen Fife To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU This story takes place right after 1966. Disclaimers at the end. ============================================= Les Deux Belle Femmes Nick sat in the Heathrow airport bar waiting for his flight back to Chicago. The bar was sparsely populated. He had surreptitiously pulled a flask out of his jacket and poured half of it into the glass of red wine in front of him. The bartender was at the other end of the bar talking to another patron. Putting the flask back in his pocket, Nick sighed in frustration and disappointment. So close ...he had been so very close to the Abarat. Mortality had been within his reach, until LaCroix interfered - yet again. Anger against his maker boiled in his veins. A faint thrumming across his consciousness reached him. His brow wrinkled as he followed the thread of emotion to its source, a sad smile appearing on his face; Janette. Yes, he was close enough to feel their connection. He knew she was in Paris. He had thought about stopping in to see her, but he was too disappointed and knew that she would only chide him for his moodiness and deride his quest for mortality, once again. He sent a pulse of affection along the link. He would send her a letter when he returned to the States. His thoughts wandered to his dark siren, memories of their centuries together a welcome distraction from the bitterness of failure. As he sat brooding and remembering, nursing his drink, another patron came into the bar carrying a guitar case and duffel bag. He sat next to Nick and caught the bartender’s attention, ordering a scotch and soda. He pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket and began writing. He started muttering to himself. "Sheets. Bloody sheets. SATIN sheets. What was she thinking?" Nick glanced wryly at him. The patron next to him had ash blond hair, a square face and looked to be in his early twenties. He glanced up and noticed Nick’s gaze and smiled. "Sorry t’ disturb you, mate." His British accent echoed the sounds around them. "No problem. I didn’t mean to listen in, but I couldn't help myself.” "Oh, right. I just met this bird, she’s lovely. She has eyes you could lose yourself in. Have you ever met a woman that just…I don’t know, touched your soul?" Nick smiled and nodded, having been just reminiscing on Janette. "See, y’ know what I mean. This girl is beautiful. And she has this French accent. Have you ever met a French girl talking in English? Ooo la la." Nick laughed. "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking of someone that fits your description exactly. She’s in Paris." His companion gestured to him. "Ah, ya know what I mean! Now tell me, mate, why would she give me SATIN SHEETS? I’ll be in the States for a month, and when we said goodbye she gave me a set of white satin sheets! Bloody hell, what will I do with SATIN SHEETS?" Nick cocked an eyebrow at him. "She is French, and the French are known for their sensuality. What better way to remind you of her every night than to sleep in satin sheets that caress your skin? I’d say she was telling you exactly how she feels about you and how she wants you to remember her." The other’s face lit up. "You might be right! Thanks, mate." He stuck his hand out. "Name’s Justin." Nick held his own hand out to him. "Nick Thomas." Justin took a swig from his drink. "So tell me about this French girl of yours." Nick smiled as he took a sip of his drink. "She’s beautiful. I’ve known her for a long time. We were even married, once. There has never been anyone else in my life like her." Justin nodded. "It didn’t work out, then?" Nick shook his head. "No, she needed her space. She left me. You know how it is. She even said that someday maybe we would meet and fall in love all over again. But that was a long time ago, and I’m a very different person than I was then." "But you miss her, don’t you?" Nick looked at Justin. "Sometimes so much it makes my heart ache. She is a part of me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started to call her, or write a letter, suggesting we meet somewhere. But I stop myself. I will always love her, but we’ve both moved on. You know how it is." Justin nodded. "Oh, don’t I. I had just broken up with a girl when I met Marie. My life is changing, too. I just joined a new band and we’re getting ready to go into the studio in a few months. I’m heading to the States to meet with some folks in the radio industry there. Anyway, right before I met Marie, I was done with love. No more. Everywhere I turned, people were happy and I was miserable. I swore I was done with women. Then, there she was." He shook his head. "You never know, do you?" Nick grinned. "No, you never do." He quaffed back the rest of his drink. He had heard the boarding call from his flight. "Justin, I wish you and Marie the best of luck. Love is a rare and wondrous thing." He held his hand out. Justin took it. "Thanks, Nick. Have a good flight. Look out for us. In a year or two, our band will be all over the radio. Guaranteed." Nick smiled. "I hope so, and I wish you the best of luck, Justin. Bonne chance!" He picked up his bag and turned to go. Two years later, Nick heard a haunting melody on the radio and smiled at the lovely song, knowing that Justin was right. The Moody Blues were going to be famous, especially if they continued with songs like "Nights in White Satin." He hoped Justin and Marie were happy. ======================================== Disclaimers: I don't known Nick and the crew. The appearance of Justin Hayward is purely fictional in this story. (It is my understanding via previous email with McLisa that if a live person is doing what s/he would normally be doing in a story, then their appearance is acceptable.) I read through quite a bit of information on the inspiration for "Nights in White Satin" and two interviews struck me: one where he said someone had just given him a set of white satin sheets, and also another where he described the song as about women in general, and that when he wrote it he had just ended one relationship and started another. I have no idea if the one he started was with his wife or not, but the timeline fit. I also don't know if his wife is French or not, but her name is. MANY thanks to Luicia for her beta of the story...it pays to know someone on the list in the UK :) Kristen Fife http://www.fkvoyage.com/fkfanfic/fife_kristen/ "I have a vampire by my side and I'm not afraid to use him!" -Tanya Huff