Part 10

Storm took a very long time fitting her costume, twisting and pinning her hair, and making her appearance look perfect, front and back in the full-length mirror in her room. The party at the mansion wasn't due to start until eight, and she and Kurt were going out to dinner before hand, and she was excited. It would be their first real date, for even though they had continued their flight training sessions, and watched a few movies since then, the relationship had not progressed past gentle touches and more chaste kisses than the first two they had shared. She knew he was struggling with something, and she had made some guesses as to what it might be as she lay alone in her bedroom at night. He might be struggling with the fact that he had only recently been her student, or that he still thought if himself as a monster, or that he had never had a real relationship before, and that he was terrified. The last option seemed the most reasonable to her. Flirting was one thing, but to feel and express true desire was to open your soul up to rejection and hurt, and pain, and for someone who had spent his life as an object of fear and derision, that was a frightening step to take.

She had dressed as the angel he had asked for, because he had asked for it. Her dress was white, and contrasted her dark sun kissed skin like a work of art. She had pulled her hair into gentle piles atop her head and secured it with a feathery clip. Her arms were bare, and though another person might have been cold in the air that betrayed the coming of winter, she knew she would be warm. Another turn in front of the mirror, and there was a soft knock at the door.

Kurt had dressed himself as the suave demon for the evening. His tuxedo with tails, last worn for, -he shook the memory from his mind- a black shirt with a blood red bow tie, and synthetic ruby cuff-links and signet ring, a gold tipped walking stick, he had debated about the top hat, but had finally left it behind, thinking it made him look more like Fred Astaire than the prince of darkness. Oro had been on his mind all day, well truthfully, every day for the last few weeks, as he gathered the courage for this night, the one night of the year that was completely his. And now he was walking to her room to pick her up, with the silly thought running in his head about having to ask her father for permission to take her out; he was just a bit giddy and just a bit irrational with each progressive step. He stood outside her door for a few minutes to calm his nerves before knocking, though his mind drifted to what she was doing inside, which didn't help to calm anything. Lost in the anxiety he reached out a hand and knocked quietly.

The door opened and the sight he beheld was more than angelic, and more than a dream and he could say nothing but only stare at her.

"Hello Kurt, you look so handsome. If not a little dangerous."

"You are a vision Oro." He wanted to say so much more, but words beyond the simple ones he had spoken, failed him.

"Won't you come in for a moment, I just need to get my shoes and my bag."

He could refuse her nothing, and stepped into her room, really more of a suite as the professors had, and closed the door behind himself. He had never been in her room before, but it was as he had imagined that it might be. Inspired by her heritage, and filled was natural colors, everything inside gave the illusion of warmth. The wood was a rich tan color, the rugs, braided in so many red hues, ivory drapery around her bed, made it seem like something from a fairy tale, and perfect for his princess. Everywhere were natural fibers, and where metal was necessary it was hammered bronze or copper. He breathed deeply of her scent, which filled the room, and it made him at once excited and nervous. She stepped back from her closet, a pair of white roman sandals in her hands. She sat on the edge of her bed, and leaded over to put them on. As she did, Kurt could see the curve of her back, and the strength of her shoulders as her hair fell forward. He wanted to reach out and touch her skin, because he knew it would be warm and smooth, and he knew that to touch it would bring back the trembling in his gut, and the anticipation that he had been dreaming of. And he fondly wanted that right now, but held back.

The last strap fastened Storm sat up and looked at Kurt, wondering what was going on in his mind, wishing again that she could see into it. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Kurt offered her his hand to rise.

"Shall we go my Lady?"

"In just a moment, I need one thing from you first."

"And what would that be my Lady?"

"A promise."

"If it is within my power you shall have it."

"Before this night is done, you must promise me that you will kiss me again, because I have missed the feel of your mouth."

A most delicious shudder ran through Kurt's body.

"I promise Oro, I shall give you that, most gladly."

She took his hand and followed him, wondering if she should have asked for the kiss right there, but she then thought that she might not have been able to let him go, and who was she to take away this one night from him.

Kurt deliberately parked further away from the restaurant than he might normally have done, wanting to have a chance to walk, even the few extra steps, out in the open with Storm. She did not begrudge him that and took his hand, secretly enjoying the looks they were getting, as much for herself as for Kurt. His grin betrayed every happiness he felt, and with each double take and indrawn breath of passers-by it grew.

Pride was an emotion that Kurt found welling inside him quite easily that evening. Normally something he would try to suppress, tonight he allowed himself the pleasure of feeling it. After all, it was his one night, and if God would not let him have just this, well, he hoped that God would let him have this.

The maitre'd at the restaurant looked up as they entered. When Kurt had called to enquire about reservations he had mentioned that they would be in costumes, having a party to attend after dinner. He had assured the gentleman he had spoken with, that the costumes would be elegant, and not inappropriate for the venue: it was just a small establishment after all. But still, Kurt braced himself for the worst possible outcome.

The second of shock that flitted past the man's eyes was quickly replaced with a gentile smile, the product of years of training and an innate sense of discretion.

"Herr Wagner. How lovely to see you this evening. May I say that you both look exquisite. Please, let me show you to your table."

An affectionate arm around her waist, and Kurt guided Storm to follow the maitre'd. Once they were seated, he pulled out a box of wooden matches, to light the single luminary on the table, and then he hesitated.

"Sir, your costume isn't particularly flammable is it?"

"I will be very careful." Kurt promised the man, and the candle was lit, menus left, and Kurt and Storm were alone.

They made some small talk about the restaurant and sipped at some champagne that Kurt had insisted on ordering. It was hard not to be distracted by the faces of the staff, who, while they tried to be discrete, continued to steal glances at them. Eventually it simply became funny and Storm covered her mouth with her napkin a few times to try and laugh quietly. Kurt's grin almost never left his face, and he further amused himself by moving his tail about to curl around the chair leg, or rise up behind his shoulders to flick around for a bit for Storm to see. She loved that he was having so much fun, it was so like the old Kurt again, and she scolded him, her eyes laughing the whole time, about being disruptive.

During dinner, she dared to reach out her fingertips to him on several occasions, to stroke his hand, and each time, his jovial grin would fade, for just a second, and she believed that she could almost see him draw in a trembling breath each time. But then he would meet her eyes and the grin would just as quickly return.

What was passion and desire without the glory of anticipation? – Kurt thought to himself-. It was everything to him that she was even here with him, and it was even more, if that was possible, that she was touching him, and sharing the laughter and freedom of this one day with him. He had hardly even noticed dinner, though he felt it must have been good, but now it was drawing near to eight and he knew that they would have to be leaving soon to return to the mansion for the party. He caught the eye of the server, though it wasn't difficult. The owner himself came over.

"May I offer you some dessert before you must leave?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt spoke mostly at Storm, "but we do have to get to our event on time." Though he found himself fondly wishing that he could spend the whole of the night at that table, sitting with her.

"Then I shall bring you something special for later." And he retreated to the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a white box, tied with green ribbon. "Chocolate gateaux, for you to share." He placed the box at Kurt's left hand. "And if I might?" He drew a little camera from his pocket. "A photograph with you?"

Kurt looked at Storm, and she nodded.

"Of course." Both stood, and the maitre'd came over to take photos of the three, and then of just Storm and Kurt. It was a beautiful picture, and the gentleman promised that he would make a copy for them if they wanted to come back to pick it up in a few days. Storm promised she would.

There were more costumed folks out and about now that the night had fallen, but still, Kurt and Storm drew the balance of the appreciative looks. Back at the car Kurt left Storm's hand only long enough to open her door for her, with as much of a flourish as a hand laden with cane and cake would allow. But Storm remained standing.

"Thank you for dinner Kurt, it was wonderful."

"You are most welcome my Lady."

"I just wondered," she paused, "we'll be back at the mansion soon, and these may be our last few moments alone for a while." She was leading him, as gently as she could. He smiled at her softly, and laid his cane, and the box down on the roof of the car.

"I have a promise to keep to you." He whispered the words because they deserved that kind of reverence.

He took her right hand in his left, and brought it to his lips to kiss it before urging her towards him.

"My Lady." He whispered again, and carefully he brought his face to hers, hovering over her mouth for a moment, and sharing a slow, warm breath with her. Then he kissed her, parting her lips with his own, and reaching out to taste her, feeling the shiver run through to his very toes as she reciprocated. She pressed her body into his and he could feel the warmth of her as she wrapped her free hand around his neck, drawing his mouth down on hers more firmly. She believed she could hear his quiet moan of pleasure as she let her passions guide her. And they stood, in the dim light cast from the car's interior, sharing their kiss, growing ever more eager in their movements until Kurt finally had to stop, and take a deep breath to calm the shaking in his knees.

"Oh God Oro." He hung his head. "What you do to me."

"As long as it brings you happiness as well Kurt."

"It does my Lady, more than I think I could ever express in words." And he had to come to her again, and kiss her passionately again, running his hands down the bare skin of her back, wanting so much more of her.

"Oro, how do you do this to me?" It really was a rhetorical question, and he helped to guide her into her seat.

"Why do you call me Oro, Kurt? When most everyone else simply calls me Ro?"

"I am not everyone else my Lady, and you are far from a simple woman to me."