Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Marvel and/or 20th Century Fox. 'nuff said.
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Arioch 5: Concert
Toad was, as ever, making adjustments to the massive air conditioning units. Arioch walked up without him ever knowing she had entered the room. She listened to the clank of tools and quiet British expletives for a moment, then cleared her throat. It alerted him enough to push himself out from under the machinery.
Without bothering to stand up from the dolly, he said, "Where've you been?"
"How's it going?" she asked in reply, ignoring his question.
"Fucking thing's on the blink again," he replied bitterly. "Don't understand why Erik is always wanting it so bloody cold in here all the time."
She crouched down beside him. Her fingers found a gap between the buttons on his shirt and slipped inside to his chest. "Keeping it cooler here means I have another reason to snuggle up," flirted Arioch.
He would never, never become accustomed to the fact that a woman touched him with such easy intimacy. His breath caught in his throat for a second. When he was finally able to meet her eyes again, Toad saw Arioch smiling at him. He managed to take a breath and return the smile.
"So where did you disappear to?" he asked, annoyance gone.
"I had to climb the damn cliff to the top to get a clear signal."
Confused expression.
"For my cell phone." Arioch pulled the tiny device from a pocket.
"You know Erik doesn't want us to use cell phones on the island!"
She shrugged in defiance as she slipped the phone away. "So what? It's not like I'm calling Charlie Xavier up. I just wanted some concert information."
Another confused expression, deeper than the first. Arioch grinned.
"You want to know the good news?"
"What news?" he asked suspiciously. He could see the excitement building in her face. Her idea of good news didn't necessarily mean good news for anyone else.
"SR-71 is playing the Mad Hatter!" she squealed.
The suspicion and confusion hadn't left Toad's face. He took her hand. "Quinn, pet, I know you're a Yank and I'm a limey—but I don't think what you just said would be understood by any other damn colonist either."
She laughed aloud. "Toad!" she giggled, squeezing his hand. In a few seconds she composed herself. "I said that SR-71 is giving a concert at the Mad Hatter, my old hangout. Where Russ bartends. And guess what?! I managed to snag a couple of tickets—not an easy task, mind you, it's a very limited show—and we're going!"
"Going? We're going?"
Arioch continued without answering. "I can't wait! I haven't been back there forever. It'll be nice to get out of this place for a night at least."
"We, as in you and me?" Toad went on.
She finally came back to him. "Well, yeah!" she affirmed, leaning close and giving him a quick kiss. "Who the hell else would I be taking?"
"I can't go to something like that!" he exclaimed. Sullenly he continued, "Some times I wonder if your eyesight is as good as you claim it is."
It was her turn to be confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Quinn, as I often repeat—LOOK AT ME!"
"Oh would you stop going on about that!" she snapped back. "No one at the Hatter will even give you a second glance!"
"Yeah. Right." Toad glared at her for a moment, then began propelling himself back under the machine. "You just keep living in your fantasy world. I'm going back to work."
"Damn it, Mortimer!" Arioch swore. She grabbed his legs and yanked him out again. He was mildly surprised and angry. So was she. "No one will notice!" she repeated loudly. "The Mad Hatter is a mutant bar!"
The anger was replaced with a startled expression. "A what?"
"A mutant bar! It's a bar where muties can hang out and not have to worry about people trying to kill them. The bouncer at the door has the ability to recognize other mutants—no regular people without an escort are allowed in. It the place where Mystique picked me up the first time! Didn't she tell you?"
Toad shook his head.
Arioch stared at him in disbelief. "You've never heard of anything like this before, have you?"
Again he shook his head.
"Jesus christ!" she said vehemently. "Erik really keeps the real world away from here, doesn't he?"
He didn't know what to respond to her question.
An air of determination settled about her. "That's it," she told him decisively. "We're going to that concert. We're spending the night in New York, in a hotel, with room service and everything. The world isn't just this little island, Mortimer.
"I'm taking you out on the town."
~~~~~
The line was long and rowdy. Arioch didn't mind the push and hustle of crowds, but could feel Toad's increasing anxiety. He had covered himself almost completely, a hood hiding his face. Arioch grabbed his hand as the line moved slowly forward.
"You're going to be too hot in the club," she told him, again. "You're going to have to ditch the jacket."
"It's dark inside?" he asked, again.
She nodded. "Dark, smoky, and loud! Would you relax a little bit? Take a look around. There's obvious mutants all through this line."
Carefully, not to dislodge his cover, Toad looked through the line.
"See?" Arioch pointed out. "Check out the bald purple chick. And that guy, with the extra arms."
"Most of these people look normal," he countered.
"Mortimer, do you see that woman standing five or six people in front of us?"
He strained to pick out the person she mentioned.
"The woman with the gold hair?"
"Yes. Looks pretty normal, right?"
Toad looked her over again. She was dressed entirely in gold—gold spandex, gold spike heels, gold halter top. He watched the woman throw her head back and laugh. Her teeth were sparkling white against the mocha of her skin.
He had to agree with Arioch. "Yeah . . . she looks normal, except for her hair. Likes gold though, huh? I guess she wanted everything to match."
Arioch smiled at him. "The hair is fake. A wig. She wears it to cover up her mutation."
"And what is that?"
"She's got an extra face on the back of her head."
Toad could only stare.
"See? You've got nothing on her. Don't worry, sweetie. I promise no one will bother you."
She squeezed his hand harder, and would have pushed his hood back to kiss him, but suddenly, they were in front of the door.
An obese black man, wearing a stained t-shirt that read: "Why settle for a lesser evil? Cthulhu for President," sat beside the door, an immense gargoyle to be passed. He allowed the group in front of them through, and turned his gaze on Arioch and Toad.
"Quinn!" he exclaimed, pleasure lighting up his face. "How you doin', girl?! Haven't seen you forever!"
"Otis!" she replied happily and reached over to hug him. Her arms only went partially around him. "I've been busy."
"Busy. Right." Otis eyed her critically. "You gotta get outta that business o' yours, baby. Gonna git you killed."
"Yeah, yeah. That'll just mean a kick ass party down in hell!"
"Hmph. You end up dead, you see great Cthulhu, you tell 'em Otis said hey."
"No prob, sweetheart, no prob," she laughed. "You gonna let us in or what?"
"Us? You bring someone wit' you?"
Toad, who'd been hiding mostly behind Arioch, was pulled in front of her.
"Otis, this is Mortimer. Mortimer, Otis."
"This a flatline or a mutie, Quinn?" Otis replied, studying Toad.
"You tell me—that's your job!"
"Not that it'd matter, him comin' in wit' you an' all . . .."
Toad didn't appreciate being spoken about as if he wasn't present, but before he could protest, Otis said,
"Okay—you're more than welcome ta go inside. Although you—" he jerked a thumb in Toad's direction, "—better watch that tongue o' yours. Women realize what you got an' what you kin do wit' it, an' you'll be buried alive in female flesh, buddy."
Toad blushed.
"Hey!" Arioch interrupted. "Don't be giving anyone any ideas, Otis! He's mine!"
Toad blushed even more furiously.
Otis took Toad's arm and pulled him closer to his enormous body in a conspiring way. "You've got a good woman here, Morty," Toad was told in a half whisper. "You do right by her. Bad things kin happen to someone who hurts my girl Quinn. Know what I mean?"
Face to face with the huge black man, Toad nodded.
"Knock it off, Otis," Arioch broke in. To Toad's relief, she pulled him away, back to her side. "Don't go all protective of me again!"
"Just watchin' out for you, baby. Now git in the club—the line's gittin' unruly."
"Gotcha. See you later!" replied Quinn, and pushed through the Mad Hatter's door, dragging Toad behind her.
~~~~~
Inside was as Arioch promised—dark and smoky.
"It'll get louder later," she announced, as if reading his mind. "Now will you drop the hood?"
With a sigh of resignation, Toad complied. He didn't want to admit that without the hood obscuring his vision it was much easier to take everything in. He'd never been in a club before, mutant or otherwise, and the barrage of images was almost overwhelming.
Flashing lasers, strobe lights, and a stage dominated one half of the club. People were already crowding the floor near the stage. A long bar was situated to their right. Several alcoves lined the walls, couples and groups staking claim to the booths and benches inside. The entire place was hazy with smoke.
Someone cursed and bumped passed Toad, and with a start he realized he was still standing only a few feet inside the door. Arioch wasn't beside him.
He was at a loss of what to do, then let the movement of the crowd carry him further inside. He picked out Arioch struggling against the flow of people to reach him. She was able to grab his hand and yank him over to her spot near the bar.
"You okay?" she shouted over the growing din. He nodded wordlessly. "Good."
She turned away from him, leaning over the bar, attempting to catch the bartender's attention. To not be separated from her by the throng of people again, Toad wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed against her. Arioch threw him a smile over her shoulder.
"Hey Russell!" she cried to the muscular bartender. "You've got paying customers over here!"
The barkeep glanced over at her, finished pulling a draft from the tap, and walked over.
"Everyone here's a paying customer," he grumbled to her, then broke into a grin. "What have you been up to, Quinn? I haven't seen you for awhile."
"Not much," she answered evasively.
"Did you ever hook up with that guy? From the last time you were here?"
"Neah. He was a chick. A shapeshifter."
"Really?! And I thought he was hot . . .."
Arioch laughed out loud. "We've gotta get up to the balcony, Russ. I just wanted to stop by and say hello. Give me two drafts for the trip."
Russell moved his gaze to Toad, who was not paying much attention to the exchange in favor of the commotion around him. Russell indicated him with a raising of his chin. Arioch gave him a wink.
"Toad—" she said, drawing his focus back to her. "—I want you to meet Russell. He's a good friend."
Toad's liquid gaze met Russell's ice blue one. It wasn't incredibly friendly, but the well-built bartender held his hand out. Toad took it, very carefully.
"Mortimer," he offered.
"I'm Russell. Pleased to meet you." The tone of his voice denied it.
An awkward moment of silence passed, then Arioch said, "Well, let's have those brewskis so we don't miss out getting a table upstairs."
Russell quickly filled two mugs and set them on the bar. Arioch dropped some cash and took the glasses. "Thanks, Russ," she told him, and ungracefully leaned across the bar to kiss his cheek. She turned and fought the crowd to the staircase, Toad in tow.
~~~~~
Up the stairs, Arioch miraculously found an unoccupied table near the front of the balcony. Toad sat gingerly on the rickety chair beside her and took a swallow of his beer.
"So . . ." he said, looking over the growing crowd of people below them on the floor, "Russ is a good friend."
"Yeah. I've known him a long time."
"Seemed pretty familiar with you . . . I don't think he liked me much."
Arioch looked over to him. He avoided her eyes. She suddenly realized what he meant, and laughed out loud again.
"Oh that!" she giggled. "He's just jealous, that's all! You've got nothing to worry about!"
"Jealous?!" Toad asked. His voice dropped. "I've never had anyone jealous of me . . .."
She laughed louder. "He's not jealous of you, Toad! He's jealous of me!"
"What does that mean?"
"Russ is gay!" she explained. "He's jealous of me, for having you!"
The revelation stunned Toad, and he didn't know how to answer. Arioch just laughed.
~~~~~
The two started another drink, silently watching the mob below them push into place before the band started. Arioch sighed.
"This is an old hangout?" Toad asked her. She nodded. "You saw a lot of bands here?"
"Yeah."
"Is this where you'd watch them—up here on the balcony?"
"No," she smiled. "For SR-71 I'd be right down there in the thick of it. In the mosh pit. Jumping and screaming with the rest of them."
"Why aren't we down there now, then?"
She smiled again at him. "'Cause I know how weirded out you were just standing in line, Toad! Down in the pit, people rushing you—I'm not sure you're quite ready for it." He looked about to protest, but she silenced him. "Maybe next time, okay?
"Besides, just because I'm up top doesn't mean I won't do my share of jumping and screaming. I hope you won't get embarrassed to be with me."
It was his turn to smile. This was one of the few times in his adult life Toad was out in public with no one really noticing him. No one pointing, or whispering, or shouting. It felt odd not to be trying to hide. Be embarrassed of her? Not bloody likely.
"So tell me then," he said, "why a popular band like SR-71 would play a small club like this."
"Simple," Arioch shrugged, "Mitch Allen, the lead singer, is a mutant."
~~~~~
The lights dimmed, and the band exploded on stage. Arioch hadn't lied—at the first note the crowd on the floor surged forward and hit the stage. Bouncers and roadies did their best to keep people from stage diving. It was only half successful. The strobe lighting intensified, mirroring the music blasting from the speakers.
Arioch hadn't been joking about her involvement, either. She was on her feet immediately, dancing in place. She alternately sang along and screamed.
Toad watched her, amused. The other concert goers, fans of the band, acted exactly the same way. He personally couldn't understand the lyrics—they were too
loud—but apparently it wasn't a problem for anyone else.
When she turned to him in between songs, he saw she was sweaty. She pushed a damp lock of hair from her forehead and grinned at him. He returned the smile, and sat back in his chair, feeling—amazingly—like part of something real. Something normal.
Again, it felt odd. But that feeling was slowly fading.
~~~~~
By the time the concert was over, including two encores, Arioch was hoarse and dehydrated. She glanced at the warm, half-finished beer on the table. With a shudder, she took it and drained it in a gulp.
"Still thirsty," she muttered.
Silently Toad offered her his glass. She emptied it as well, and looked for more.
"Come on," said Toad. He stood up and offered his arm. "If you want something else, you need something non alcoholic. You're going to pass out."
"Hey," she croaked. "I'm supposed to be taking you out, not the other way around!"
"Can I at least get you to the door?"
"Okay," she agreed, and took his arm. He supported her as she stumbled down the stairs. They followed the mass of people leaving.
Outside, the fresh air seemed to sober Arioch. Color returned to her cheeks.
"Thanks, Mortimer!" she exclaimed. With no regard to the rabble around them, she grabbed his head and kissed him heartily on the mouth. Her tongue flicked between his lips.
It shocked him enough to cause him to back away. Instead of looking upset or disappointed, Arioch just winked and said,
"Well, even if you're modest here, I certainly hope it goes away in the hotel room!"
Toad blushed brightly, even though nobody paid them any attention.
Arioch chuckled, took his hand again. "Come on!" She maneuvered him quickly through the crowd. "We'll go hang out by the backstage door. Maybe we'll be able to get the band's autographs as they come out!"
Still shellshocked to be included in something as ordinary as concert going, Toad followed meekly along as they made their way behind the club to wait for the band. Arioch's excitement was interesting to view, and her emotion was contagious.
But as the tired members of SR-71 exited the building, old habits took over and Toad stepped back into the shadows. Arioch, not realizing he had left her side, waltzed boldly to the four musicians and struck up a quick conversation, in hopes of getting autographs.
As he watched her flirt and laugh with them, Toad felt a sharp pang of bitterness bite into his stomach. No matter how hard he could try to act like a normal human, it would never be real. His physical mutation stunted him, and the truth of the fact hit him as it had never done before. Once again it was if he were outside, looking in, and it hurt.
Toad slunk further back into the shadows.
The band finally left, and Arioch realized with a start that Toad was not with her. She called for him, worry evident in her voice. When she finally located him, hidden behind boxes and the dumpsters, he flinched slightly away from her hand.
"Mortimer—what's wrong?"
"I need to go back to the Lair. I won't stay the night in this city."
His tone and demeanor surprised her, but his determination was undeniable. He refused to answer any of her questions, and refused to let her touch him. Back at the Lair, he crept away from her. When she tried to stop him, he scurried up the wall, out of her reach. He hurried away, leaving her bewildered.