The Soprano Ch. 01

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How guilty he had felt after that first time, tying her up and belting her. Even if she had gotten pleasure from it, how perverse and immoral a thing had he done? He had broken down and told René, who seemed disturbingly unperturbed. In fact, he had egged on Sebastien, convincing him to see if Claire would go further. So he had provoked her into admitting she wanted it to happen again.

After that, he'd felt guilt, too, but it was tinged with satisfaction. Still he hadn't known what to do. Starting a relationship with his new soprano had to be out of the question, and yet...yet.

That last concert, he had known. He had seen it in her eyes -- not acquiescence, but desire. She wanted it as much as he. That first time, it had been...simply incredible. That was the only word he could use. The spark that had been between them on stage had grown until it was something greater than either of them. It spread and threatened to incinerate them. Yet when they gave in, rather than quenching it, it simply grew hotter.

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After that first time, Sebastien was afraid that he had gone quite crazy. He had become quite distracted thinking of ways to torture and tease Claire. He had...introduced her to René, and it had gone very well. But then, there was...him. Todd. Claire's "boyfriend." Oh, sure, he had known about the boy's existence before he had gotten intimate with Claire. But once he'd had her, it suddenly seemed unfathomable, unallowable, that she be with anyone else.

René had tried to restrain him. As he -- and Claire -- regularly pointed out, Sebastien did not own her, could not control her. He had no claim to her unless he wanted to demand exclusivity. And when he finally did, he supposed he had gone about it quite the wrong way. Even then, he had certainly not expected for her to refuse. He should have. She was strong-willed, stubborn, spiteful. But he knew how much she wanted him.

How much more surprised he was, then, when she began to challenge him openly in rehearsals and performances. Surprised and furious. And then to have her track down his apartment -- well, track down was perhaps the wrong phrase (damn René) -- and yell at him. Then become vulnerable and sweet, and he had no choice but to confess that he cared.

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A swift knock on the door tore him from his thoughts.

"Maestro, have you seen Claire? We're ready to rehearse the whole thing and she said she wanted to hear it."

Sebastien looked down. She was so exhausted. He would let her sleep a little longer. He covered her ear gently with his cupped palm and called out an answer over her head.

"No, I have not. I believe she may have gone out for a bit. Perhaps you should all take your lunch break, and she may hear it when she returns."

"Okay!" Footsteps faded away and Claire stirred.

"Mmm, Sebastien, love you," she murmured sleepily. He stroked her hair and her breathing soon deepened again in sleep.

Then there was the most amazing part of all. This woman loved him, and he loved her too. He hadn't thought it was love for a long time, wasn't sure he wanted it to be. But at some point, he could no longer avoid what was inevitable. He could even pinpoint the exact moment he knew.

It was two o'clock on a Sunday afternoon in May. Sebastien was lounging in the guest room of his sister Sarah's house, staring moodily out the window at the rain drizzling down into the small garden out back. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he knew he would miss her. Claire. He had come to Pairs that weekend to celebrate his sister's birthday, but found that she had decided to use the occasion to introduce him to as many of her friends as possible. Already that weekend, he had been subjected to a dinner party and two luncheons.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Sarah's intentions, but...well, actually he wasn't sure that he did. Sure, the introductions may all have been innocent, but he had an idea that she was trying to draw out of him the truth she suspected: that he was dating someone, and keeping it a secret.

Well, it turned out that he just wasn't interested in any of the girls he met that weekend. Not even just that he wasn't interested, actually. Frankly, he could hardly recall them, even though he had just met them. Like the women at lunch today. What were their names? Kate. And Zara. Or something. They'd been nice, of course, and even pretty, perhaps. But not special. Not...not Claire. Claire, who had captured his attention before she had opened her mouth to speak.

And that's when he'd realized. It wasn't just the sex, wasn't just the easy affection between them. It was love.

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When he at last brought Claire to Paris with him, he supposed he was hoping that it would inspire the same feelings in her that he already knew to be inside himself. But it wasn't to be. By the end of the trip, he thought he saw the light in her eyes when she looked at him. But when they returned him, he had begun to doubt what he thought he saw.

She was pulling away from him, more and more every day. She broke down into tears at the slightest provocation. She snapped at him. She melted into him when they made love, and then she ran away. On the night he visited her apartment for the first time, he believed that her preoccupation with his former girlfriends had perhaps been the only problem. But it only got worse after that night.

After she stormed out of rehearsal and didn't return, he began to fear the worst. She didn't contact him, and he had almost given up hope that she cared at all. But at last he had gotten the truth out of her, and the truth was glorious. She loved him.

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Sebastien blinked his eyes to clear the visions of the past he had been seeing. At once, he noticed that Claire was awake and watching him.

"What?" she asked sleepily.

"Just thinking, mon abeille. I believe the orchestra is ready for you."

"Mmm, okay," she said, rising from the couch and running her fingers through her hair. She gave him a peck on the cheek and then headed for the door. "Coming, Maestro?"