The Velvet Red
Jean pulled into The Velvet Red's parking lot in record time. Abandoning her purse and keys in the car, she slammed the car door behind her and rushed into the empty club.
Ororo was lying on the plush sofa in the dressing room, a brown leather jacket draped across her resting form. Scott stood behind the couch, shifting nervously and clearly feeling out of place.
Betsy stood from where she was kneeling beside Ororo to give Jean a hug upon her arrival.
"Oh God, Jean," was all she could choke out.
Jean resumed Betsy's position next to the couch and brushed a few disobedient strands of platinum from the goddess' closed eyes. "What happened?" Jean bit back tears. It hurt unbearably to see this strong woman brought so weak. It reminded her that if it could happen to Ororo, it could happen to anybody.
Elisabeth paced the room anxiously. "Some fucker caught her on her way out through the alley door. Guess he wouldn't take no for an answer. He left her there when he was done." The beautiful Asian's voice dripped with bitter venom, her sharp, pretty features twisted into a disgusted snarl. She jerked a thumb at Scott. "Anyways, this guy heard her on his way to the car." Betsy's expression suddenly became as scared and soft as Jean's. She was nearly crying when she said, "Said she was moaning for help. He found her without a stitch of clothing." She joined Jean on the floor beside their best friend. "Our Ororo was moaning for help."
Jean wrapped a comforting arm around Elisabeth and the two women cried in each other's support. Ororo's icy eyes fluttered open. "Jean," she muttered weakly at the mass of red in front of her. The two women immediately turned full attention on Ororo.
"Oh my God; honey, are you alright?" Jean clasped her friend's hands in her own.
She nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm alright." She glanced a bit sheepishly at her scantily covered form. "Some clothes would be appreciated."
Jean and Betsy wasted no time in getting the exotic woman dressed. Jean stripped out of her sweatshirt ignoring the night chill her white tank did nothing to rescue her from, and slipped Ororo into it. Betsy found a pair of Rogue's old jeans crumpled on the hair supplies shelf.
Once fully clad, Ororo turned her attention to Scott. Smiling, she handed him his jacket. "Thank you."
He nodded clumsily, struck with the sudden attention. "No problem."
Jean tried to smile her thanks to him, but he refused to meet her eyes. She considered that maybe it was just her imagination and tried speaking with him. "Yes, thank you, Scott. Who knows how long she would have been out there."
He didn't respond except to briefly meet her eyes. Jean's heart sank to somewhere in the pit of her; he definitely was not speaking to her. And why should he? She HAD technically lied to him all that time, never once mentioning Warren. He had every right to be pissed, which was exactly what he currently was.
The uncomfortable silence created by Scott's snub was broken when Jean asked where Logan was.
"Tracking down the bastard," Betsy replied, popping a few tablets in her mouth. Jean frowned. "By the look on his face when he took off, I bet the only one that will be able to identify the body will be the asshole's dentist."
Jean nodded in agreement. She knew Logan went insane when something happened on his turf. A rape, well, that was punishable by death as far as he was concerned, especially one involving any of them.
"She needs rest."
"I'll take her home," Betsy offered, steadying Ororo's already sitting position.
Jean nodded and began helping Elisabeth's pursuits. She spoke lowly. "Are you sure you're up to it?"
Betsy stared at her friend for a moment, knowing what she was referring to: the speed she had just swallowed. "Yea, I'll be fine. Those were the only two I've taken today." She paused at Jean's incredulous look. "Oh come on! We live in the same apartment building. It would be silly if I wasn't the one to take her."
Ororo placed a hand on Jean's. "I will be fine, my friend." The three women hugged and Betsy was out the door with Ororo in front of her, ardently refusing any help.
A silence settled over the dressing room as Scott pulled on his coat. Jean stole a glance at him, which he abruptly shied away from. She flushed, at first angry with him, but the childish anger soon transformed into self-chastisement. What right did she have to be mad? She was the one that had lied for all this time.
'If she says one word to me I think I'll explode,' Scott thought, taking more time than usual to head out the door. Surely he wasn't waiting for her to say something, to beg him for forgiveness, was he?
"Scott, I... I don't know what to say." Jean's voice stuttered from behind him. She bit her lip and toyed with the hem of her tank, contemplating her next words. Why did it matter so much to her whether he stayed or went, whether he forgave or refused? It did matter, damn it. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Scott spun around from where he stood at the door, a sudden wave of rage having swept over him. "Sorry? Yeah, me too. I'm sorry I made a fool of myself for so long, acting like a damned dog performing tricks for a pretty face. I'm sorry you're married and, oh I don't know, forgot to mention that to me every night I took time out of my life to stop by. You KNEW I was coming to see YOU!"
He clenched his teeth and the doorknob with his hand until his knuckles turned an unusual shade of ivory. Jean swallowed. "I am sorry! I wanted to tell you, but... but I was afraid!"
Silence for a moment. "Afraid?" Scott repeated.
She nodded, walking over to him. "Yes. I guess, I don't know, I guess I was afraid that if I told you I would never see you again and you seem like such a hell of a nice guy. I know that sounds terribly selfish."
Scott's fury and refusal fell to its knees when she approached him with tears welled in her big eyes. "I'm really sorry, though, I just..."
"Stop," he said, holding up a hand to halt her words. "You don't have to apologize; it's alright." Where the words had come from, Scott had no idea.
Relief swallowed Jean and she let out a sigh. "Thank you."
Scott stepped a few feet closer to her, keeping his voice low. "But you're happy? He treats you okay?"
Jean smiled up at him. His chivalrous act was all too cute to resist. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm happy with him." Would she ever stop lying to the poor lad?
Logan briskly made his way back to the club, satisfied with the job he had completed. He hoped the fucker knew he was lucky to walk out of it alive, but Logan was positive he made it pretty clear that the next time Victor, or anyone for that matter, pulled something like that again, the poor guy would get a lot more than a beat to a bloody pulp.
The Canadian born bouncer stepped easily through the alley and finally through the side door, stopping immediately after he gained entrance. Hidden behind a dressing wall, Scott and Jean had obviously not heard him come in. They were standing dangerously close and Jean's head was only inches from resting on Scott's shoulder. Scott held her hips gently in an embrace that looked both comforting and awkward at the same time. She was murmuring something to him, and he nodded in agreement every so often.
Logan wasn't sure whether he should leave them in peace or rob them of their privacy. Since he couldn't bring himself to move, he unconsciously performed the latter. Besides, there wasn't much he knew about this Summers guy. How did Logan know he wasn't some psycho just waiting for the perfect moment to strike, a little bit smarter than Creed? After what happened to Ororo, Logan didn't want to take any chances.
He watched as Jean lifted her face to stare into the kid's eyes. Before Logan knew it, Scott was leaning into her to steal a kiss. This had definitely gone too far. Jean was an emotional mess after tonight. After all, Ororo was one of her closest friends. She didn't know what she was doing and Logan was sure Warren wouldn't be too happy with what was about to happen, either. A split second before their lips met, Logan opened the door he had just come in from and slammed it, causing the two startled occupants of the room to jump away from each other.
He sauntered into the room as if he had no idea he had just stopped Jean from committing an act she would later regret. They were on opposite sides of the room by now and looked sheepishly up at him as if they were children having been caught red-handed in the act of stealing a bike.
"Logan! Are you alright?" Jean said after a moment, rushing to him and giving him a quick glance-over. He just smiled and nodded.
"Yea, Red, I'm fine. Aren't I always?"
Jean bit her bottom lip. How much had he seen? It didn't seem like much, but Logan was far too nice a guy to just barge in and embarrass us.
"Did you find the guy?" Scott asked.
"Hell yea I got him. Let's just say I can guarantee he'll never do it again." The stout man replied dryly, stealing a cigar from the supply tray and lighting it up.
"Good," Jean declared. "I'll have to get Warren to let her off for the next couple of days. Hell, I need to tell him what happened! Good-Bye you two." Jean spun around and left the room, her eyes briefly meeting Scott's before exiting.
Once gone, Logan settled his eyes on Scott Summers. This guy was definitely going to have to prove himself before he spent any more time with any of the women, especially the only one that was already married.
Scott returned the speculative stare. "What? Do you have a thing for her, too?"
Logan shrugged, playing it cool. "I'm not really sure what you mean."
"Oh come on. Why else would someone stand there for as long as you did and decide which course of action to take?" Scott retorted.
"I'm just trying to make sure she doesn't make a mistake that could ruin her life. She's a happily married woman, pal." Logan said quickly, only slightly surprised Scott had been aware of his presence. He paused, deciding this was getting off on the wrong foot. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick, I'm just saying you'd be better off letting this woman slip through your hands. Warren's got more connections than JFK, if you know what I mean. The only thing you'll end up with is a broken heart and a bottle of whiskey in your fist."
Scott nodded and pulled open the door to the street. "Thanks for the tip." And then he left, leaving Logan to shut down.
Logan shook his head and smiled to himself. 'Just a bright-eyed kid falling hard in love.'
**
Elisabeth Braddock made sure to pack her stun gun in her purse the next night; she was taking no chances. In the dressing room, she and Jean were killing time before she had to go on stage, chatting and splitting a bottle of red wine. Betsy had gotten little sleep the previous night. She was restless lying in bed, sorrowful over Ororo and fearful for herself. The rape of the woman that had through the years become an idol to Betsy was unnerving to the violet-haired beauty. Ororo was so strong, a powerful atmosphere surrounding her as she treaded on important, confident air. She was truly a woman to look up to, a woman demanding of respect. Her rape was a chunk of dignity chiseled out of the chocolate skinned goddess, never to be reclaimed. If acted as a bucket of cold water on all of the women. If it could happen to Ororo, it could certainly happen to anyone.
Betsy did not like it one bit. And so there she sat, dismal and glazed with fatigue. Idly, she pulled open her vanity drawer and retrieved a little white bottle, twisting open the cap and popping two small pills in her mouth. She tried to ignore the concerned look etched on Jean's face, but to no avail.
"Jean, hun, you worry too much."
Jean shook her head and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted with Rogue's entrance. Silently, Betsy thanked whomever for that one.
"Man! Ah am going to be swamped tonaght! It's only 7:00 and the house is already almost full!"
"You want some help? I'll shoot over to floor right after my routine." Betsy offered, implying to Rogue single-handedly waitressing the club. Ororo was supposed to assist, but true to her word, Jean had gotten Warren to give her a couple of days to recoup- that was the best she could do.
"Aw, thanks, that'd be great Betsy." Rogue replied gratefully.
"I would help while she's on stage, Dixie, but I've got to get ready for my routine. I'm not even close!" Jean waved a hand over her robe-clad body for emphasis.
**
Rogue scurried to and fro on the club's floor, jotting drink orders and delivering cigars.
"Hey gorgeous!" Rogue spun around and strode to a table with a blonde man, late twenties, not bad looking. He glanced at her nametag and smiled. "I'm sorry. What I meant to say was 'Hey Rogue!'"
She smiled briefly and positioned her pen and paper, signaling to him she was sort of in a rush. He threw his hands up in defense and Rogue then detected that he was already a bit drunk. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint! I'll have a scotch and soda, some bread sticks, and a date with you, how about Thursday?" Rogue suppressed a smile. He was actually kind of cute, in that all-American boy kind of way, but her heart was long taken by a Southern boy with blazing eyes and a sly smile.
"Ah don't think so, sugah, but the drink and bread sticks are coming right up!"
"No, no, stay. I'll try harder, and I promise, my opening lines are always better second time around." He winked and rested a hand on her hip, gliding it across the back of her and up her dress into territory 'off-limits.'
It had all happened so fast, and before Rogue could even step from his embrace, the blonde received a blow across the cheek, but not by the Southern woman...by the Southern man.
"Remy!" Rogue shouted, but he was long from listening. Remy and the blonde were engaged in a fight, sprawled on the carpet.
Scott was just laying down a pair of Aces when he heard the commotion from across the room, catching not only his but every other club patron's interest. He threw his cards down and rushed to where he heard Rogue's screams of protest. By the time he had arrived, Logan had already broken the fight up- the two men separated a good distance away.
Rogue was screaming at Remy but he didn't seem to be listening, he was eyeing daggers into the kid that had been groping Rogue. Scott glanced over at the blonde, and recognized him immediately.
"Bobby! What the hell were you thinking?"
Bobby looked up. "Scott! Hey buddy, since when do you start having a good time? Can't stay away, either, huh? Yeah, they've got some nice women here." He shot Rogue a carefree smile solely for Remy's purpose. She merely rolled her eyes in response, trying to calm her boyfriend down.
**
"I have never been so embarrassed in all my life! Where the fuck is he?" Warren barged through the doors of the dressing room, Jean close in tow, tying her plum colored robe around her waist as she tried to calm her husband.
Rogue looked up from where she was nursing Remy's swollen black eye with an ice pack, biting her lip nervously. Remy merely sneered, gently tugging her hand away and standing up. "I'm right here."
"Do you have any idea how much I had to pay that guy off so he wouldn't press charges against our asses? You're just lucky the guy could be shut up with a check!" Warren said through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, I know how well they're looked after, here." Remy snarled, implying the incident with Ororo. Rogue silently expressed gratitude Logan had been out on floor settling the place down and not in here to hear that.
Warren took a few restrained steps toward Remy. "Just what the hell are you trying to say? You know, she doesn't have to work here." He pointed a warning finger at Rogue and her eyes got wide for a fleeting second.
Jean decided to stop this before Warren did something he regretted. He wasn't entirely logical when he was furious. She intervened between the two, nudging Warren back with her arm. "Gentlemen! Take it easy! It's been a long night; we're all a bit irritable. Let's go home and cool off, eh?" Jean held her breath in anticipation as the two eyed each other.
Rogue slowly approached Remy's side and placed her hand on his arm. "C'mon sugah. It ain't worth the fight." Remy clenched his jaw but reluctantly let Rogue lead him away and out of the alley door.
Warren sneered in disgust, catching Jean suddenly by the arm and towing her out of the club. Scott was waiting for her by the entrance.
"Jean! Hey, what happened? Is everything alright?"
Jean opened her mouth to thank him for his concern but her words and smile of appreciation were cut off by Warren wrenching her away. "Everything's fine." He spat, and stomped off with Jean on his arm.
**
Later that night, Warren sat on his white leather coach, sipping champagne and listening to music. He could see Jean from where she hung up the phone in the kitchen, having just gotten off with Betsy. Damn, those two gossiped non-stop! He smirked to himself and toyed with the delightful thought of Betsy and Jean for a second, together. He only idly noticed Jean leaning in the doorway, staring at him. He smiled up at her and took another swig of the champagne.
"Hello, love." He took his feet from the footstool and stood, making his way to where she was and wrapping her in his arms. Her only response was to smile weakly. He placed his forehead against her own and gently swayed back and forth to the C.D. playing on the stereo. "I was thinking," he said suddenly, "about that Rogue girl. She's real nice and all, but I don't like her boyfriend a bit. He's been more trouble than she's worth, don't you think?"
Jean slightly tensed in his embrace. Was he going to try to get rid of Rogue? "Oh, I don't know. I love Rogue to death. She's a great worker, and really pretty. She's definitely raking in some cash, that's for sure."
Warren shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know..." And he left that subject at that. Jean suspected he was hinting at something, but before she could ponder it deeply, Warren was lifting her onto the counter, making a place for him between her legs and nuzzling her ear.
Jean produced an artificial giggle and tenderly pushed him away. "You're too much." She said, keeping her tone playful.
He didn't even attempt to mask his disappointment. "Aw, c'mon." She only snickered and shook her head. He grew impatient. "You owe me."
Bingo. Jean's suspicions were proved true from those three words. He was referring to Ororo being given a few off days to recoup. Jean had promised it'd be worth his while, finding it to be the only way to make him agree with her. She had avoided the unpleasant task for as long as possible, but she knew she couldn't fool Warren. He forgot nothing.
"For me," Warren whispered in her ear, nibbling it between words. "For Rogue."
Jean closed her eyes and rolled them behind her eyelids. She knew it; she knew it! The bastard would indeed go so low as to put Rogue's job on the line if she didn't bend to his every whim. What could she do?
Ten minutes later found Warren adorning her neck and collarbone with kisses as he lied her down on their bed. She complied not entirely willingly, running her slender fingers through his blonde tresses and all over his back. As he made his way down her breasts and over her belly, her eyes fluttered closed once again, this time to think about Scott Summers. She was quite certain now that he would drive her wild if they were to ever make love. He wouldn't be hasty and dominant, wouldn't run his tongue lazily over her bellybutton like Warren was currently doing, but take his sweet time to dip his tongue into her navel, letting her know with his actions how much she meant to him.
Warren halted his doings and looked up at her, smiling. "Something wrong?" Interpretation: If you don't get your fucking act together and start at least pretending to enjoy this, I'm going to get very angry, and I don't go so slow when I'm angry.
Her sensuous lips curled into a smile. "No, nothing at all." She cupped his face and brought him eye level with her again, kissing him fervently on the mouth. He eagerly accepted. Thoughts of Scott flooded her mind, prompting her to take it one step further. She rolled him on his back and planted a trail of electric kisses down his chin and neck, covering his chest and nipping a nipple. He gasped, burying his hands in her ruby ringlets and sitting up, pressing his toned chest against hers.
Her thoughts consumed with Scott now, not a trace of Warren to be found, Jean wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed his lips against hers. Warren moved his mouth down to her breasts, paying homage to each one while Jean's breathing became harder. Her eyes were closed to visualize her preferred lover loving her, not her husband.
Devoted to the idea of Scott, Jean opened her mouth to mumble his name, but immediately closed it upon realizing the mistake she almost committed. Her eyes got wide for a mere instant, but she soon regained her cool, moving to Warren's rhythm once again.
Warren, however, noticed the event and stopped immediately, looking up at her with swollen lips and a bemused expression dwelling in his eyes. "What the hell was that?" He asked flatly.
Jean crinkled her russet eyebrows. "What was what?"
Warren leaned back on his hands, Jean still positioned in his lap. "You know what." His tone was dangerously angry. Jean doubted she'd be able to get out of this one. There was a loud silence when Warren's voice rang stern through the penthouse. "You were thinking about HIM weren't you?" His voice was low and laced with venom. Jean remained silent. What was the point? He knew when she was lying. "Weren't you?!" He nearly yelled, grabbing her by the forearms and bringing her only inches from his face.
Jean sighed and climbed nonchalantly from his lap, slipping a white cotton nightgown over her nude body. When Warren didn't receive an answer, his fury grew. "You little cum-sucking slut! You were thinking about him! In fact, I'll bet you've even fucked the little pimp, haven't you?"
"Warren! Enough!" Jean pleaded, forcing hot tears from spilling. "That's insane! You know I'm faithful." Unlike you, she added silently. She just didn't feel like getting slapped tonight.
Warren shook his head incredulously. "Fine! You want to run around fucking every Tom, Dick, and Harry? That's just plum dandy with me; Two can play at that game, whore!" Warren shouted, stepping into his khakis and throwing on a white button-up. Without another word, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
**
Scott stared out the window of his taxi seat on his way to the office, taking in the bleak, gray day. Five minutes up the road and he would pass the club. It wouldn't be open for another hour, but he always watched it go by just to spot her car and know she's there, getting ready, rehearsing a routine, doing a sound check, sorting schedules, etc. The thought she was even alive got him through the rest of the day.
This time though, as he passed, he didn't see just a couple cars there, he saw dozens- dozens of cop cars with yellow tape tracing the building. Scott immediately had the cab pulled over and got out, rushing to the crime scene.
"Hey pal, where do you think you're going?" Scott stopped when a pudgy policeman held his arm up to halt the young man.
"W...What happened?" Scott breathed, a million horrible scenarios flashing through his mind. Not her, please not her.
He nearly doubled over when he saw a stretcher carried away, white sheet draped over the unmistakable form of a feminine body. "Oh, God." He raised his head up to the storm clouds rolling darkly as they possessed the sky effortlessly. "Please not her." He choked out.
If not God, then someone answered him.
Jean's Benz pulled up into the parking lot, screeching into her reserved space. Scott let out an audible sigh and rushed to her side, finding Ororo coming from the other direction, the fathomless storm clouds roaring in all of their glory.
"What's going on?" Jean asked as she frantically grabbed onto Ororo, the warm wind swirling her and her friend's hair all around, whipping them in the face and head.
Scott tried to suppress his relief at the sight of her. "I don't know. I just got here." The two looked back at Ororo with wide impatient eyes.
It was then they noticed her eyes glazed over with shock. "It's Betsy. She's dead. An overdose."
Jean cried in anguish as her knees suddenly gave way, Scott catching her on her way down. She buried her face in his chest and bawled incoherently, clinging to him like a child.
AUTHORS
Okey dokey, who saw THAT one coming? I know, I know, it's a shock, but you will find out why all in due time! But, this also means there is an opening at The Velvet Red! Who do YOU think should take Betsy's spot as the fourth stripper? It's all up to you, people! REVIEW!
Second of all, I know it's kind of sudden with the whole Ororo thing. Kind of feels like I just wrapped up her whole tragedy in a chapter, right? Well, never fear. I've got a plan; there IS a method to my madness!
Third and last, many of you have applauded me for my creative storyline. Strippers? It's crazy! I love it, I love it, I love it!!! I just thought you all might want to know that my idea for this particular story came from a news commercial, after hearing briefly that they were still investigating the murder of a stripper. It was all I ever heard! But it was enough to give birth to this!
Thanks so much for all the positive praise; you guys are great! If you have any ideas at all, or if you think you know what's going to happen, tell me. I'd LOVE to hear it! REVIEW!
Jean pulled into The Velvet Red's parking lot in record time. Abandoning her purse and keys in the car, she slammed the car door behind her and rushed into the empty club.
Ororo was lying on the plush sofa in the dressing room, a brown leather jacket draped across her resting form. Scott stood behind the couch, shifting nervously and clearly feeling out of place.
Betsy stood from where she was kneeling beside Ororo to give Jean a hug upon her arrival.
"Oh God, Jean," was all she could choke out.
Jean resumed Betsy's position next to the couch and brushed a few disobedient strands of platinum from the goddess' closed eyes. "What happened?" Jean bit back tears. It hurt unbearably to see this strong woman brought so weak. It reminded her that if it could happen to Ororo, it could happen to anybody.
Elisabeth paced the room anxiously. "Some fucker caught her on her way out through the alley door. Guess he wouldn't take no for an answer. He left her there when he was done." The beautiful Asian's voice dripped with bitter venom, her sharp, pretty features twisted into a disgusted snarl. She jerked a thumb at Scott. "Anyways, this guy heard her on his way to the car." Betsy's expression suddenly became as scared and soft as Jean's. She was nearly crying when she said, "Said she was moaning for help. He found her without a stitch of clothing." She joined Jean on the floor beside their best friend. "Our Ororo was moaning for help."
Jean wrapped a comforting arm around Elisabeth and the two women cried in each other's support. Ororo's icy eyes fluttered open. "Jean," she muttered weakly at the mass of red in front of her. The two women immediately turned full attention on Ororo.
"Oh my God; honey, are you alright?" Jean clasped her friend's hands in her own.
She nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm alright." She glanced a bit sheepishly at her scantily covered form. "Some clothes would be appreciated."
Jean and Betsy wasted no time in getting the exotic woman dressed. Jean stripped out of her sweatshirt ignoring the night chill her white tank did nothing to rescue her from, and slipped Ororo into it. Betsy found a pair of Rogue's old jeans crumpled on the hair supplies shelf.
Once fully clad, Ororo turned her attention to Scott. Smiling, she handed him his jacket. "Thank you."
He nodded clumsily, struck with the sudden attention. "No problem."
Jean tried to smile her thanks to him, but he refused to meet her eyes. She considered that maybe it was just her imagination and tried speaking with him. "Yes, thank you, Scott. Who knows how long she would have been out there."
He didn't respond except to briefly meet her eyes. Jean's heart sank to somewhere in the pit of her; he definitely was not speaking to her. And why should he? She HAD technically lied to him all that time, never once mentioning Warren. He had every right to be pissed, which was exactly what he currently was.
The uncomfortable silence created by Scott's snub was broken when Jean asked where Logan was.
"Tracking down the bastard," Betsy replied, popping a few tablets in her mouth. Jean frowned. "By the look on his face when he took off, I bet the only one that will be able to identify the body will be the asshole's dentist."
Jean nodded in agreement. She knew Logan went insane when something happened on his turf. A rape, well, that was punishable by death as far as he was concerned, especially one involving any of them.
"She needs rest."
"I'll take her home," Betsy offered, steadying Ororo's already sitting position.
Jean nodded and began helping Elisabeth's pursuits. She spoke lowly. "Are you sure you're up to it?"
Betsy stared at her friend for a moment, knowing what she was referring to: the speed she had just swallowed. "Yea, I'll be fine. Those were the only two I've taken today." She paused at Jean's incredulous look. "Oh come on! We live in the same apartment building. It would be silly if I wasn't the one to take her."
Ororo placed a hand on Jean's. "I will be fine, my friend." The three women hugged and Betsy was out the door with Ororo in front of her, ardently refusing any help.
A silence settled over the dressing room as Scott pulled on his coat. Jean stole a glance at him, which he abruptly shied away from. She flushed, at first angry with him, but the childish anger soon transformed into self-chastisement. What right did she have to be mad? She was the one that had lied for all this time.
'If she says one word to me I think I'll explode,' Scott thought, taking more time than usual to head out the door. Surely he wasn't waiting for her to say something, to beg him for forgiveness, was he?
"Scott, I... I don't know what to say." Jean's voice stuttered from behind him. She bit her lip and toyed with the hem of her tank, contemplating her next words. Why did it matter so much to her whether he stayed or went, whether he forgave or refused? It did matter, damn it. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Scott spun around from where he stood at the door, a sudden wave of rage having swept over him. "Sorry? Yeah, me too. I'm sorry I made a fool of myself for so long, acting like a damned dog performing tricks for a pretty face. I'm sorry you're married and, oh I don't know, forgot to mention that to me every night I took time out of my life to stop by. You KNEW I was coming to see YOU!"
He clenched his teeth and the doorknob with his hand until his knuckles turned an unusual shade of ivory. Jean swallowed. "I am sorry! I wanted to tell you, but... but I was afraid!"
Silence for a moment. "Afraid?" Scott repeated.
She nodded, walking over to him. "Yes. I guess, I don't know, I guess I was afraid that if I told you I would never see you again and you seem like such a hell of a nice guy. I know that sounds terribly selfish."
Scott's fury and refusal fell to its knees when she approached him with tears welled in her big eyes. "I'm really sorry, though, I just..."
"Stop," he said, holding up a hand to halt her words. "You don't have to apologize; it's alright." Where the words had come from, Scott had no idea.
Relief swallowed Jean and she let out a sigh. "Thank you."
Scott stepped a few feet closer to her, keeping his voice low. "But you're happy? He treats you okay?"
Jean smiled up at him. His chivalrous act was all too cute to resist. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm happy with him." Would she ever stop lying to the poor lad?
Logan briskly made his way back to the club, satisfied with the job he had completed. He hoped the fucker knew he was lucky to walk out of it alive, but Logan was positive he made it pretty clear that the next time Victor, or anyone for that matter, pulled something like that again, the poor guy would get a lot more than a beat to a bloody pulp.
The Canadian born bouncer stepped easily through the alley and finally through the side door, stopping immediately after he gained entrance. Hidden behind a dressing wall, Scott and Jean had obviously not heard him come in. They were standing dangerously close and Jean's head was only inches from resting on Scott's shoulder. Scott held her hips gently in an embrace that looked both comforting and awkward at the same time. She was murmuring something to him, and he nodded in agreement every so often.
Logan wasn't sure whether he should leave them in peace or rob them of their privacy. Since he couldn't bring himself to move, he unconsciously performed the latter. Besides, there wasn't much he knew about this Summers guy. How did Logan know he wasn't some psycho just waiting for the perfect moment to strike, a little bit smarter than Creed? After what happened to Ororo, Logan didn't want to take any chances.
He watched as Jean lifted her face to stare into the kid's eyes. Before Logan knew it, Scott was leaning into her to steal a kiss. This had definitely gone too far. Jean was an emotional mess after tonight. After all, Ororo was one of her closest friends. She didn't know what she was doing and Logan was sure Warren wouldn't be too happy with what was about to happen, either. A split second before their lips met, Logan opened the door he had just come in from and slammed it, causing the two startled occupants of the room to jump away from each other.
He sauntered into the room as if he had no idea he had just stopped Jean from committing an act she would later regret. They were on opposite sides of the room by now and looked sheepishly up at him as if they were children having been caught red-handed in the act of stealing a bike.
"Logan! Are you alright?" Jean said after a moment, rushing to him and giving him a quick glance-over. He just smiled and nodded.
"Yea, Red, I'm fine. Aren't I always?"
Jean bit her bottom lip. How much had he seen? It didn't seem like much, but Logan was far too nice a guy to just barge in and embarrass us.
"Did you find the guy?" Scott asked.
"Hell yea I got him. Let's just say I can guarantee he'll never do it again." The stout man replied dryly, stealing a cigar from the supply tray and lighting it up.
"Good," Jean declared. "I'll have to get Warren to let her off for the next couple of days. Hell, I need to tell him what happened! Good-Bye you two." Jean spun around and left the room, her eyes briefly meeting Scott's before exiting.
Once gone, Logan settled his eyes on Scott Summers. This guy was definitely going to have to prove himself before he spent any more time with any of the women, especially the only one that was already married.
Scott returned the speculative stare. "What? Do you have a thing for her, too?"
Logan shrugged, playing it cool. "I'm not really sure what you mean."
"Oh come on. Why else would someone stand there for as long as you did and decide which course of action to take?" Scott retorted.
"I'm just trying to make sure she doesn't make a mistake that could ruin her life. She's a happily married woman, pal." Logan said quickly, only slightly surprised Scott had been aware of his presence. He paused, deciding this was getting off on the wrong foot. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick, I'm just saying you'd be better off letting this woman slip through your hands. Warren's got more connections than JFK, if you know what I mean. The only thing you'll end up with is a broken heart and a bottle of whiskey in your fist."
Scott nodded and pulled open the door to the street. "Thanks for the tip." And then he left, leaving Logan to shut down.
Logan shook his head and smiled to himself. 'Just a bright-eyed kid falling hard in love.'
**
Elisabeth Braddock made sure to pack her stun gun in her purse the next night; she was taking no chances. In the dressing room, she and Jean were killing time before she had to go on stage, chatting and splitting a bottle of red wine. Betsy had gotten little sleep the previous night. She was restless lying in bed, sorrowful over Ororo and fearful for herself. The rape of the woman that had through the years become an idol to Betsy was unnerving to the violet-haired beauty. Ororo was so strong, a powerful atmosphere surrounding her as she treaded on important, confident air. She was truly a woman to look up to, a woman demanding of respect. Her rape was a chunk of dignity chiseled out of the chocolate skinned goddess, never to be reclaimed. If acted as a bucket of cold water on all of the women. If it could happen to Ororo, it could certainly happen to anyone.
Betsy did not like it one bit. And so there she sat, dismal and glazed with fatigue. Idly, she pulled open her vanity drawer and retrieved a little white bottle, twisting open the cap and popping two small pills in her mouth. She tried to ignore the concerned look etched on Jean's face, but to no avail.
"Jean, hun, you worry too much."
Jean shook her head and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted with Rogue's entrance. Silently, Betsy thanked whomever for that one.
"Man! Ah am going to be swamped tonaght! It's only 7:00 and the house is already almost full!"
"You want some help? I'll shoot over to floor right after my routine." Betsy offered, implying to Rogue single-handedly waitressing the club. Ororo was supposed to assist, but true to her word, Jean had gotten Warren to give her a couple of days to recoup- that was the best she could do.
"Aw, thanks, that'd be great Betsy." Rogue replied gratefully.
"I would help while she's on stage, Dixie, but I've got to get ready for my routine. I'm not even close!" Jean waved a hand over her robe-clad body for emphasis.
**
Rogue scurried to and fro on the club's floor, jotting drink orders and delivering cigars.
"Hey gorgeous!" Rogue spun around and strode to a table with a blonde man, late twenties, not bad looking. He glanced at her nametag and smiled. "I'm sorry. What I meant to say was 'Hey Rogue!'"
She smiled briefly and positioned her pen and paper, signaling to him she was sort of in a rush. He threw his hands up in defense and Rogue then detected that he was already a bit drunk. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint! I'll have a scotch and soda, some bread sticks, and a date with you, how about Thursday?" Rogue suppressed a smile. He was actually kind of cute, in that all-American boy kind of way, but her heart was long taken by a Southern boy with blazing eyes and a sly smile.
"Ah don't think so, sugah, but the drink and bread sticks are coming right up!"
"No, no, stay. I'll try harder, and I promise, my opening lines are always better second time around." He winked and rested a hand on her hip, gliding it across the back of her and up her dress into territory 'off-limits.'
It had all happened so fast, and before Rogue could even step from his embrace, the blonde received a blow across the cheek, but not by the Southern woman...by the Southern man.
"Remy!" Rogue shouted, but he was long from listening. Remy and the blonde were engaged in a fight, sprawled on the carpet.
Scott was just laying down a pair of Aces when he heard the commotion from across the room, catching not only his but every other club patron's interest. He threw his cards down and rushed to where he heard Rogue's screams of protest. By the time he had arrived, Logan had already broken the fight up- the two men separated a good distance away.
Rogue was screaming at Remy but he didn't seem to be listening, he was eyeing daggers into the kid that had been groping Rogue. Scott glanced over at the blonde, and recognized him immediately.
"Bobby! What the hell were you thinking?"
Bobby looked up. "Scott! Hey buddy, since when do you start having a good time? Can't stay away, either, huh? Yeah, they've got some nice women here." He shot Rogue a carefree smile solely for Remy's purpose. She merely rolled her eyes in response, trying to calm her boyfriend down.
**
"I have never been so embarrassed in all my life! Where the fuck is he?" Warren barged through the doors of the dressing room, Jean close in tow, tying her plum colored robe around her waist as she tried to calm her husband.
Rogue looked up from where she was nursing Remy's swollen black eye with an ice pack, biting her lip nervously. Remy merely sneered, gently tugging her hand away and standing up. "I'm right here."
"Do you have any idea how much I had to pay that guy off so he wouldn't press charges against our asses? You're just lucky the guy could be shut up with a check!" Warren said through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, I know how well they're looked after, here." Remy snarled, implying the incident with Ororo. Rogue silently expressed gratitude Logan had been out on floor settling the place down and not in here to hear that.
Warren took a few restrained steps toward Remy. "Just what the hell are you trying to say? You know, she doesn't have to work here." He pointed a warning finger at Rogue and her eyes got wide for a fleeting second.
Jean decided to stop this before Warren did something he regretted. He wasn't entirely logical when he was furious. She intervened between the two, nudging Warren back with her arm. "Gentlemen! Take it easy! It's been a long night; we're all a bit irritable. Let's go home and cool off, eh?" Jean held her breath in anticipation as the two eyed each other.
Rogue slowly approached Remy's side and placed her hand on his arm. "C'mon sugah. It ain't worth the fight." Remy clenched his jaw but reluctantly let Rogue lead him away and out of the alley door.
Warren sneered in disgust, catching Jean suddenly by the arm and towing her out of the club. Scott was waiting for her by the entrance.
"Jean! Hey, what happened? Is everything alright?"
Jean opened her mouth to thank him for his concern but her words and smile of appreciation were cut off by Warren wrenching her away. "Everything's fine." He spat, and stomped off with Jean on his arm.
**
Later that night, Warren sat on his white leather coach, sipping champagne and listening to music. He could see Jean from where she hung up the phone in the kitchen, having just gotten off with Betsy. Damn, those two gossiped non-stop! He smirked to himself and toyed with the delightful thought of Betsy and Jean for a second, together. He only idly noticed Jean leaning in the doorway, staring at him. He smiled up at her and took another swig of the champagne.
"Hello, love." He took his feet from the footstool and stood, making his way to where she was and wrapping her in his arms. Her only response was to smile weakly. He placed his forehead against her own and gently swayed back and forth to the C.D. playing on the stereo. "I was thinking," he said suddenly, "about that Rogue girl. She's real nice and all, but I don't like her boyfriend a bit. He's been more trouble than she's worth, don't you think?"
Jean slightly tensed in his embrace. Was he going to try to get rid of Rogue? "Oh, I don't know. I love Rogue to death. She's a great worker, and really pretty. She's definitely raking in some cash, that's for sure."
Warren shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know..." And he left that subject at that. Jean suspected he was hinting at something, but before she could ponder it deeply, Warren was lifting her onto the counter, making a place for him between her legs and nuzzling her ear.
Jean produced an artificial giggle and tenderly pushed him away. "You're too much." She said, keeping her tone playful.
He didn't even attempt to mask his disappointment. "Aw, c'mon." She only snickered and shook her head. He grew impatient. "You owe me."
Bingo. Jean's suspicions were proved true from those three words. He was referring to Ororo being given a few off days to recoup. Jean had promised it'd be worth his while, finding it to be the only way to make him agree with her. She had avoided the unpleasant task for as long as possible, but she knew she couldn't fool Warren. He forgot nothing.
"For me," Warren whispered in her ear, nibbling it between words. "For Rogue."
Jean closed her eyes and rolled them behind her eyelids. She knew it; she knew it! The bastard would indeed go so low as to put Rogue's job on the line if she didn't bend to his every whim. What could she do?
Ten minutes later found Warren adorning her neck and collarbone with kisses as he lied her down on their bed. She complied not entirely willingly, running her slender fingers through his blonde tresses and all over his back. As he made his way down her breasts and over her belly, her eyes fluttered closed once again, this time to think about Scott Summers. She was quite certain now that he would drive her wild if they were to ever make love. He wouldn't be hasty and dominant, wouldn't run his tongue lazily over her bellybutton like Warren was currently doing, but take his sweet time to dip his tongue into her navel, letting her know with his actions how much she meant to him.
Warren halted his doings and looked up at her, smiling. "Something wrong?" Interpretation: If you don't get your fucking act together and start at least pretending to enjoy this, I'm going to get very angry, and I don't go so slow when I'm angry.
Her sensuous lips curled into a smile. "No, nothing at all." She cupped his face and brought him eye level with her again, kissing him fervently on the mouth. He eagerly accepted. Thoughts of Scott flooded her mind, prompting her to take it one step further. She rolled him on his back and planted a trail of electric kisses down his chin and neck, covering his chest and nipping a nipple. He gasped, burying his hands in her ruby ringlets and sitting up, pressing his toned chest against hers.
Her thoughts consumed with Scott now, not a trace of Warren to be found, Jean wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed his lips against hers. Warren moved his mouth down to her breasts, paying homage to each one while Jean's breathing became harder. Her eyes were closed to visualize her preferred lover loving her, not her husband.
Devoted to the idea of Scott, Jean opened her mouth to mumble his name, but immediately closed it upon realizing the mistake she almost committed. Her eyes got wide for a mere instant, but she soon regained her cool, moving to Warren's rhythm once again.
Warren, however, noticed the event and stopped immediately, looking up at her with swollen lips and a bemused expression dwelling in his eyes. "What the hell was that?" He asked flatly.
Jean crinkled her russet eyebrows. "What was what?"
Warren leaned back on his hands, Jean still positioned in his lap. "You know what." His tone was dangerously angry. Jean doubted she'd be able to get out of this one. There was a loud silence when Warren's voice rang stern through the penthouse. "You were thinking about HIM weren't you?" His voice was low and laced with venom. Jean remained silent. What was the point? He knew when she was lying. "Weren't you?!" He nearly yelled, grabbing her by the forearms and bringing her only inches from his face.
Jean sighed and climbed nonchalantly from his lap, slipping a white cotton nightgown over her nude body. When Warren didn't receive an answer, his fury grew. "You little cum-sucking slut! You were thinking about him! In fact, I'll bet you've even fucked the little pimp, haven't you?"
"Warren! Enough!" Jean pleaded, forcing hot tears from spilling. "That's insane! You know I'm faithful." Unlike you, she added silently. She just didn't feel like getting slapped tonight.
Warren shook his head incredulously. "Fine! You want to run around fucking every Tom, Dick, and Harry? That's just plum dandy with me; Two can play at that game, whore!" Warren shouted, stepping into his khakis and throwing on a white button-up. Without another word, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
**
Scott stared out the window of his taxi seat on his way to the office, taking in the bleak, gray day. Five minutes up the road and he would pass the club. It wouldn't be open for another hour, but he always watched it go by just to spot her car and know she's there, getting ready, rehearsing a routine, doing a sound check, sorting schedules, etc. The thought she was even alive got him through the rest of the day.
This time though, as he passed, he didn't see just a couple cars there, he saw dozens- dozens of cop cars with yellow tape tracing the building. Scott immediately had the cab pulled over and got out, rushing to the crime scene.
"Hey pal, where do you think you're going?" Scott stopped when a pudgy policeman held his arm up to halt the young man.
"W...What happened?" Scott breathed, a million horrible scenarios flashing through his mind. Not her, please not her.
He nearly doubled over when he saw a stretcher carried away, white sheet draped over the unmistakable form of a feminine body. "Oh, God." He raised his head up to the storm clouds rolling darkly as they possessed the sky effortlessly. "Please not her." He choked out.
If not God, then someone answered him.
Jean's Benz pulled up into the parking lot, screeching into her reserved space. Scott let out an audible sigh and rushed to her side, finding Ororo coming from the other direction, the fathomless storm clouds roaring in all of their glory.
"What's going on?" Jean asked as she frantically grabbed onto Ororo, the warm wind swirling her and her friend's hair all around, whipping them in the face and head.
Scott tried to suppress his relief at the sight of her. "I don't know. I just got here." The two looked back at Ororo with wide impatient eyes.
It was then they noticed her eyes glazed over with shock. "It's Betsy. She's dead. An overdose."
Jean cried in anguish as her knees suddenly gave way, Scott catching her on her way down. She buried her face in his chest and bawled incoherently, clinging to him like a child.
AUTHORS
Okey dokey, who saw THAT one coming? I know, I know, it's a shock, but you will find out why all in due time! But, this also means there is an opening at The Velvet Red! Who do YOU think should take Betsy's spot as the fourth stripper? It's all up to you, people! REVIEW!
Second of all, I know it's kind of sudden with the whole Ororo thing. Kind of feels like I just wrapped up her whole tragedy in a chapter, right? Well, never fear. I've got a plan; there IS a method to my madness!
Third and last, many of you have applauded me for my creative storyline. Strippers? It's crazy! I love it, I love it, I love it!!! I just thought you all might want to know that my idea for this particular story came from a news commercial, after hearing briefly that they were still investigating the murder of a stripper. It was all I ever heard! But it was enough to give birth to this!
Thanks so much for all the positive praise; you guys are great! If you have any ideas at all, or if you think you know what's going to happen, tell me. I'd LOVE to hear it! REVIEW!
