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"Two, please."
Sam Guthrie, the mutant X-Man and sometime Avenger code-named Cannonball, held up two fingers and caught the eye of the perky blonde behind the bar. She smiled a smile that reached clear up to her ears with perfectly even white teeth and nodded his direction. A little too tan and she wore a little too much makeup for Sam's taste, but she was mighty pretty and it didn't hurt to flirt a little, especially with the crowd tonight, helped him get his drinks that much faster. He tipped her real nice, but was secretly thankful the band was playing too loud and that she was too busy for small talk. He winked at her though, and took a big sip of his iced cold brew, wiping the perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand as he shoved his way back into the crowd.
The Rusty Spur, Salem Center's new country bar and upstate New York's best attempt at a juke joint, was thick tonight. People, temperature, and music all surrounded him like heavy wet blankets. His tall, lanky frame received more than a few appreciative stares and hip grinds from the local ladies as he pushed through the pulsing throng of people. The band was good, damn good, loud and twangy with just the right amount of bass to thump in your chest and give you something to shake your ass to.
Sam's height put him a good foot above most of the crowd and he easily spotted his companion for the night. Her hair stood out, long and auburn with a white stripe that seemed to pulsate to the beat like a flag in the wind. Taller than most of the ladies surrounding her, she was all kinds of curvy and a gifted enough dancer to use them. She was wearing a white sundress with tiny red flowers printed on it, low enough in the bust and high enough in the skirt to be slightly scandalous. "God bless her," Sam thought to himself and smiled. Anna Raven, his teammate on occasion for both superhero squads, more commonly known by the name Rogue, had topped off her outfit with an old broken-in pair of cowboy boots she now seemed intent on stomping the soles off of. Slick with sweat and rolling to the music, she pulled her hair up from the nape of her neck, causing Sam to nearly drop the beers he was carrying. He had known Rogue since he was a gawky kid, and though she had always essentially been off limits for various reasons she had starred in plenty of his teenage fantasies. He stepped wide to readjust himself in his boxer shorts and took a deep breath. They were just friends, after all.
The music drowned out the sound of his approach, so, smiling wickedly, he ran the bottom of the frosty beer bottle up the back of her exposed neck. She gasped sharply over the volume of the band and turned, her look of fury shifting to a heartbreaking smile.
"Sam!" she exclaimed happily in her thick Mississippi accent when he handed her the brew. "My hero! Where you been, sugar?"
Sam tried not to watch as she took a long, slow drink of the beer, her white neck plunging down to breasts barely contained by the bodice of her dress. He leaned in so as not to shout, his own Kentucky twang seeping through. "You wouldn't believe the crowd, girl! Took me three songs just to push my way to the bar!"
She smiled crookedly as she finished her sip and leaned into his ear, Sam trying desperately to think of anything but the warmth of her breast pushing against his arm. "Sure it wasn't your little girlfriend at the bar? You two would make some beautiful blonde little babies!" One hand held her cold beer against the back of Sam's checkered shirt, with the other she ran a finger teasingly up its buttons.
Sam sucked in a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. Just how many beers was this? He tried to mentally count. "She's okay. Little too much effort on her part for me, y'know? Too tan, too blonde, too much makeup."
She nodded. "Those tits are fake, too, darlin'," she said just as Sam took a big swig of his beer. He choked on it, much to Rogue's delight. She laughed so hard she started hiccuping, which caused Sam to laugh until he snorted.
Sam slung an arm around her, trying not to get her any sweatier than she already was. "Thanks for comin' with me tonight, Anna. I really needed this." He gestured to the crowd. The band ended their tune and announced a short break. Thunderous applause followed them offstage and Rogue whistled wildly.
"Me too, sugar. I can't believe nobody else would come."
Sam took another swig of beer and shook his head. "I know, right? I've been wantin' to hit this place for months, but bein' in New York City and not at the school it was a little hard to get away. When Storm said she could use us down here this weekend and you and I could come a couple days early, I thought 'Hell yes!' we'll get a whole mob of us teachers to go and tear the place up, but everybody wimped out 'cept you."
"Even Bobby?" Rogue stood back slightly now that they could talk at respectable levels and put a hand on one hip.
"My Bobby or your Bobby?" Sam asked and furrowed his brow. "Answer's bout the same for both of them. But if we're talkin' Drake," Sam screwed up his face and affected his best Boston accent, "I, er, don't do country."
Rogue laughed and slapped his arm. "Bobby Drake is not 'my Bobby'. But, it figures. Still, I thought if it was the three of us he'd jump at the chance, y'know?"
Sam smiled and nodded. He, Rogue, and Bobby Drake, the original X-Man Iceman, had comprised the core of an X-squad that had produced mixed results depending on whose opinion you asked. Despite the hardships, the three mutants had cemented a fierce loyalty for one another and had gone to the wall defending each other. "To the best team that hardly was," Sam said sadly and raised his beer.
"Amen," Rogue smiled and clinked bottles with him.
"I'm impressed, the band's real good and the place is packed for a weeknight." Sam looked out over the crowd and drained his bottle. "I could have done with a little more fiddle, though."
Rogue laughed again, throaty and warm, her drawl thicker the more drinks she consumed. "Of course you do, hayseed. Fiddle makes everything better, right?"
"Hayseed?" Sam plastered mock offense across his face. "We're awful high and mighty, river rat."
She smiled big and broad. "That's right, sugar. Mississippi River, the delta, land of the blues. This ain't quite the blues, but you know me, I'll listen to anything."
Sam smiled at her and winked as he leaned in and bumped her with his shoulder. "Bullshit! I remember you rollin' your eyes pretty hard at some jazz Gambit was trying to make you listen to…" He wished he could take the name back as soon as he said it, but too many beers to count had loosened his tongue. The last person he wanted to bring up was Rogue's ex the 'ladies' man' Remy LeBeau. The two mutants were on and off so much it made Sam's head spin, but a blind man could see Anna and Remy were passionate about each other. He and every other gossip among the X-Men family had wanted the dirt on their last split, especially since Rogue had ended up in Magneto's bed before her tears had a chance to dry. He really wanted to push the issue, but the look on her face said to drop it. They were having a damn fine time and he didn't want to spoil it. Maybe after a few more beers?
"Okay, I'll amend my earlier statement," she said airily. "I'll listen to anything with words, and I have to be able to shake my booty to it, okay?" As if on cue, the band strolled back onstage. The crowd roared as the drummer counted off a rocking beat. Rogue slammed the rest of her beer and placed their empty bottles on a nearby table. "Let's go, Guthrie," she yelled and pulled on his arm. The two plunged into the surging crowd, Sam marveling at the way Rogue twisted and snaked them through the throng of pulsating people, her gyrating body finding each and every opening, pulling him towards the stage.
He smiled broadly, slightly unsteady on his feet as he was dragged by the petite powerhouse. She was so different from the Rogue he had known a few years ago. Still brash and sexy, but so much more confident. Her mutant powers, when uncontrolled, kept her at arm's length from anyone and everyone. She would have had a hell of a time doing anything like this before she could control her mutant gift and it made Sam's heart swell to see her slinking through the crowd unafraid. Among other things, he thought as he caught a glimpse of her backside under that short, short dress.
They made it to the front and were pressed up against the stage and each other. Sam tried not to groan as that same backside wiggled against him in time to the music. He tried to back up, but there was really nowhere to go. Rogue leaned all the way into his chest, giving him an ample view of her cleavage. It took everything he had to not reach up and grab ahold of her breasts with his hands. Friends, friends, friends, he repeated mentally. She was a little drunker than he thought, he realized. She had to be. She'd never shown the least damn interest in him the whole time he'd known her. Despite all they had in common and all they'd been through, he'd always been relegated to 'little brother' status. It had to be the drinks.
The song stopped and the band slipped into a slower song, not a waltz, but something you could two-step to. The crowd thinned and, needing to break the tension, Sam spun Rogue around. "Let's give 'em a show, girl!" he grinned and pulled her into his chest, placing one hand on her waist and clasping the other in a dancer's frame. Sam took a little pleasure at the shocked look on her face as he skillfully lead her around the dance floor. Geeky and awkward as a teen, Sam Guthrie had always loved music and loved dancing. As he grew more confident and athletic, he made sure he could dance more than a few steps. As beautiful as Rogue was, he knew he was no slouch either in the looks department. The two of them cut a pretty impressive path on the dance floor, receiving many envious looks from both sexes.
Rogue warmed up and found Sam's rhythm. In no time at all they were comfortable enough to do complex spins and Sam even dipped her a couple of times. As the song ended, he picked her up by her waist and spun her around, her long hair streaking behind her. She laughed breathlessly as the crowd cheered.
The lead singer of the band called to them from onstage. "We're happy to be upstaged by somethin' that looks so fine, honey!" He winked at Rogue. "Nice job, blondie!" he pointed at Sam. Rogue threw a happy arm around Sam's waist and he saluted the band. "I'm buyin' these kids a shot!" The singer signaled to the bar and the band counted off another song.
The rest of the night melted into a happy blur of honky-tonk, turns on the dance floor, and booze booze booze. Too soon they were closing the bar down. Shaking hands with the band, they were shoved out the door by the blonde bartender from earlier in the night who only scowled at the mutants as she swept up broken beer bottles. "No blonde babies, I guess," he muttered, stumbling a little in the empty parking lot.
"Can't feed babies with fake boobs, anyway," Rogue sauntered ahead of him. "You could do better than that, sugar." She twisted her hair up again and pulled it into a messy bun on top of her head. Sam's eyes greedily followed the few loose strands of hair that trailed down the back of her neck. "It's hot as sin out here," she mumbled as they came upon the car, a sleek black loaner from the Avengers.
Sam nodded in agreement. It was still deep summer in New York and even at two a.m. the humidity was like a physical force. "I thought it was hot inside. Apparently, that was with the air-conditioning." Rogue leaned against the driver's side door as Sam dug in his pocket for the keys. He swore under his breath when he dropped them and they fell underneath the vehicle. He bent to pick them up and swayed dangerously, a wave of dizziness overtaking him. He knelt down and swore a little louder this time.
Rogue laughed softly and leaned her body on his back. "I think you're a little too drunk to drive, sugar," she whispered in Sam's ear, sending shivers down his spine. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and sighed. "I think I am, too. Storm'd kill us if we got pulled over." With effort they both stood up.
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Can you imagine the trouble we'd be in back at Avenger's tower if we got DUI s?" He shook his head.
"No thanks," Rogue snorted. "The Wasp already looks at me like I'm some damn backwoods hillbilly. So, what? Taxi?"
Sam grimaced. "You been a city girl for so long you forgot how small this town is?" He inwardly kicked himself. He hadn't meant to drink so much, but they had been having such a damn good time…
"Crap," she pouted and leaned against the car again. "Forgot this is the sticks. Cabs only on the weekends and then only in town. S'Thursday night, and nobody'd take us to Graymalkin Lane if we tried. I'd say we could call the school, but that'd be a little embarrassin'."
Standing in front of her, Sam held out a hand. "We could always fly home. Care to borrow a little Cannonball power?"
She smiled wickedly. "Sure, sugar." Instead of taking his hand, she grabbed the front of his shirt and drew the surprised Sam in for a long, slow kiss. Her mutant power pulled slightly at his and though she no longer knocked people unconscious when she employed her talent, when she leaned back Sam was more than a little breathless. He swallowed hard and she looked up at him from under her long eyelashes with a need so raw it shook his knees. He pulled her roughly into another kiss. One of her arms circled his waist and with the other she pulled roughly at his hair. He moved to her neck and she moaned as he kissed lower. He pushed his hips into her as they kissed feverishly in the heat.
He came up for air and stepped back, kicking himself inside for doing so. "Rogue…Anna…" he pleaded as she bit his neck and wrapped a leg around his waist. "We gotta stop, girl." Stopping her hands from their descent southward, he pulled back further. "We have both had way too much to drink. I…I don't want to be a one-night stand for you."
Rejection and embarrassment flooded Rogue's face. "I'm sorry, Sam," she whispered. "I thought…I saw…you wanted this…" She swallowed hard and looked away. Sam rubbed his hands down his face. Dammit. He had been checking her out all night, every move she had made had sparked some dirty little thought. Her mutant talent in its early stages had taken everything from her victim: thoughts, feelings, memories, powers, but her new-found control had allowed her to be more selective and only take powers. Whether on purpose, or accidently because of alcohol impaired judgment, she must have gotten a big dose of his filthy little fantasies.
He tipped her chin towards him, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You're goddamn right I want this. But not here, not now. You're drunk, I'm drunk. We're in a parking lot." He held her face steady. "I'm not gonna lie, it's real hard to say no to you. You're about the sexiest damn thing I've ever seen. The devil on my shoulder says to hell with being a good guy, that I should shove you into the backseat of this car and make your forget all about Remy LeBeau or anybody else, but I'm tryin' real hard to listen to the angel on my other shoulder that's tellin' me to be a gentlemen." He kissed her softly, sweetly. "You deserve to be worshiped and if you give me the chance I think we could be real good together. Seems like we already got the moves down…be nice if you felt it without my thoughts makin' you the star of Sam Guthrie's personal porno."
Face flushed, she laughed softly and let him pull her back into his chest. "Take me out sometime and we'll see where things go." She snuggled closer.
"Slower. Sober. I want to take my time. Y'know, savor every bite."
Rogue pinched his arm. "Guthrie, you are such a tease."
They broke apart and stood awkwardly for a few heartbeats. "I don't know if flying home's the best," Sam said slowly. "I don't think I could fly a straight line, and we'd light up the sky somethin' fierce."
Rogue nodded. "Yer right. Storm'd still be pissed. I guess we walk then."
"Yep." Sam offered his arm. "S'not too far. The night air'll sober us up a bit. Seems we've got a few things to talk about?"
She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked under the stars. "Thanks, Sam. You're a southern gentlemen through and through."
He kissed the top of her head. "Couldn't let you take advantage of me, the older woman and all. Real man-eater."
Her laughter echoed loudly as they started into the night.
The End