Chapter Four
Clothes were spread across the bed at many different angles as Ororo tried and then rejected each outfit.
"What about this one?" Jean asked, holding up a white dress.
"Too virginal," Rogue said. "He'll be afraid to touch her without sullying her virtue." "Now THIS," she added, "is an outfit." She held up a short black skirt and a black low-cut halter top.
"Rogue, she doesn't want to look like a hooker either," Jean objected.
"In that case, can I borrow it for the club tonight?" Marie asked plaintively.
"You guys are going back to the club?" Ororo asked, gazing thoughtfully at a tight knee length khaki skirt and a red blouse. "Maybe after dinner Kurt and I will stop by and check up on you."
"Sounds good," Jean said. "Unless you guys want to go some place a little more...private."
"Jean, not you too, why does everyone assume that this relationship is all about sex?" she asked.
"Well it's not ALL about sex," Marie admitted. "But it is like a really, REALLY, big part of it."
"Well, the only thing you guys need to worry about is my outfit right now," Ororo told them. "What do you think?" She held up her compromise between her two friend's opposite opinions of what she should wear.
"Hmm, khaki skirt, knee length but still tight, red blouse, short sleeved, low cut but with enough ruffles to hide most of you, strappy shoes, and silver jewelry," Rogue said, going through the list. "I approve on a general note."
"Me too," Jean said, admiring the necklace she had chosen.
"Good Ororo said then it's settled." She smiled. They moved on to hair and make-up.
By the time eight o'clock rolled around Storm was ready. She was spritzing on her favorite perfume when she heard the doorbell ring. "Ok," she told herself, "don't answer it, that will look desperate, just act natural."
"STORM!!!!" an annoyingly loud voice yelled up the stairs, "your DATE is HERE!!!!!!" Rogue grinned, knowing Ororo was going to kill her later. She shrugged. "Oh well, I've had a good life," she thought philosophically.
Ororo quickly smoothed her hair and walked down the steps, vowing to really hurt Rogue when she got home. She reached the end and turned into the hallway to see Kurt, looking surprisingly at ease, talking to Wolverine.
"I'm taking her to a restaurant," he was saying as he caught sight of her. He smiled, "Good evening, Ororo, you look incredible." "Your large friend here was just giving me the third degree."
"Logan, I thought we already had this talk," Storm said dangerously.
"You said I couldn't threaten him, we were having a nice conversation," Wolverine said, a bit too innocently.
"Ja, it was very kind of you to show me your metal claws, Logan, they are very nice," he paused when he saw Storm's eyes narrow and begin to turn white. "But we really must be going," he said quickly.
"This isn't over, Wolverine, when I find you and Rogue you will BOTH be lucky if I don't assign each of you a permanent rain cloud to follow you around for the rest of the year," she threatened in a nonchalant tone of voice. She reached for her coat.
"Can you do that?" Logan asked, surprised.
"Yes," she said. Then she turned to Kurt, who had finished helping her into her leather jacket.
"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.
She took it, giving him a radiant smile. "I think we shall." Kurt opened the door and motioned to his car, a black mustang. He opened the door for her and then walked to his side. Climbing in, he started it and they headed off the Institute grounds.
"Just like riding a bike," Kurt murmured.
Ororo raised an eyebrow, "What it?"
"Driving a car," Kurt replied. "I usually ride my motorcycle, but I rented this one because I did not feel it would be good to pick you up on a bike."
"Wise decision," Ororo said, with a smile to make it sound less superior. "You know, I could have picked you up," she said.
"That would be very ungentlemanly of me," Kurt told her, pretending to be soundly shocked.
"Hey, this is the twenty-first century, it's very liberated for us girls to pick up our dates," she said, grinning at his mock-horrified look.
"So," Kurt asked, changing the subject, "is that your power, water?"
Ororo abruptly realized they had never discussed what each other could do, she didn't even know what kind of powers he had. "Not exactly," she said, "I control all types of weather." "Lightning, rain, winds, I can do it all." "What about you, what's your mutation, besides the obvious."
"I," Kurt said proudly, "am a teleporter."
"Really?" Ororo asked, she had never met anyone with that mutation before. "How does that work?"
"Mostly, I just think about where I want to go and "bamph" I'm there," he told her.
"Bamph?" she asked.
"It's sort of the sound it makes," Kurt said. "I, myself, have never heard it, but people tell me that's what it sounds like."
"Teleporting sounds like fun," Ororo said, "but I don't think I'd trade it for flying."
"Yes, flying is infinitely better," Kurt agreed.
"Have you flown before?" she asked as they turned down another rode.
"I was in the Munich circus awhile back, a trapeze artist; it's the closest thing to flying that you can get." He smiled at the memories. "It was also a lot of fun."
"You were the star attraction?" Ororo asked, smiling at the thought of him performing for the crowds.
"Well, I was good, but not quite that good," he grinned again. "You know, they used to call me the Incredible Nightcrawler." He sighed, "I guess they didn't know me very well."
Ororo frowned at that. "I don't know, Kurt," she said, "I think you're pretty incredible."
Kurt turned to her, his smile returning, "Ja, but you have to say that, being an angel and all." Ororo blushed at the compliment, and was grateful when Kurt spoke again. "And here we are." He pulled up in front of a brightly lit restaurant with the words "Myron's" written in neon letters. Kurt opened the polished wooden door and they entered the carefully immaculate dining area. They approached the desk and rang the small bell on the table for assistance, almost immediately a waiter popped up. Literally.
"Kurt!" he said with a huge smile, displaying teeth as green as his skin. "Good to see you again, buddy."
"Robert, I see you managed to get your uniform modified," Kurt replied, nodding to the holes in the man's elbows where two protruding green spikes peeked out.
"Yeah, I squared it with Myron," he said, then changed the topic abruptly. "And who is your very lovely lady friend?" he asked slyly.
"This is Ororo Monroe," he said, smiling at her.
Ororo leaned forward, offering her hand, "A pleasure," she said.
"Well, let me get you two a table," Robert said, after releasing her hand. "Right this way," he motioned for them to follow him.
They were led past several couples, and one room in which a birthday party was taking place, to a secluded candlelit table behind several strategically placed plants. Kurt held out her chair and removed her coat, acting in every way the perfect gentlemen. Ororo couldn't help but enjoy all the attention, she knew there was no way she could train the male X-Men members to be more like her charming date. They were handed the menus and Ororo glanced at Kurt.
"So, what's good?" she asked, skimming the menu.
"Well, they make an excellent chicken primavera and all of the pasta here is always perfect," he replied.
"That sounds good, I definitely feel like Italian," she said. She quickly gave her drink order and chose the chicken fettuccine alfredo, Kurt picked the aforementioned chicken primavera. They talked until their food arrived, ate and talked some more. After they were both thoroughly stuffed they had gotten around to jobs.
"So where do you work?" Ororo asked, taking a sip of her drink.
"I'm an editor for a small newspaper, behind the scenes where most people won't see me." "Actually most of the employees don't mind working for or with a mutant, it seems most people know someone who is one of us."
"You're lucky, I've known several people who have encountered more stiff resistance to their mutations," Ororo said. "I, for one, am glad I found the Xavier Institute," she added. The conversation turned to a more pleasant topic, but eventually they decided it was probably time to leave. Kurt paid for the meal, refusing to let her half it, and giving her an amusingly shocked look when she suggested it. They grabbed their coats and headed for the car, saying goodnight to Robert.
"It's much too early to go home yet," Storm told him decisively. "Do you want to go back to the nightclub?" she asked, "The others are going to be there."
"I would be happy to, as long as you promise to dance with me," he said.
Ororo nodded cautiously, "A slow dance," she said, holding up an admonishing finger.
"Of course, Fraulein," he said with a smile, "those are the best ones."
Clothes were spread across the bed at many different angles as Ororo tried and then rejected each outfit.
"What about this one?" Jean asked, holding up a white dress.
"Too virginal," Rogue said. "He'll be afraid to touch her without sullying her virtue." "Now THIS," she added, "is an outfit." She held up a short black skirt and a black low-cut halter top.
"Rogue, she doesn't want to look like a hooker either," Jean objected.
"In that case, can I borrow it for the club tonight?" Marie asked plaintively.
"You guys are going back to the club?" Ororo asked, gazing thoughtfully at a tight knee length khaki skirt and a red blouse. "Maybe after dinner Kurt and I will stop by and check up on you."
"Sounds good," Jean said. "Unless you guys want to go some place a little more...private."
"Jean, not you too, why does everyone assume that this relationship is all about sex?" she asked.
"Well it's not ALL about sex," Marie admitted. "But it is like a really, REALLY, big part of it."
"Well, the only thing you guys need to worry about is my outfit right now," Ororo told them. "What do you think?" She held up her compromise between her two friend's opposite opinions of what she should wear.
"Hmm, khaki skirt, knee length but still tight, red blouse, short sleeved, low cut but with enough ruffles to hide most of you, strappy shoes, and silver jewelry," Rogue said, going through the list. "I approve on a general note."
"Me too," Jean said, admiring the necklace she had chosen.
"Good Ororo said then it's settled." She smiled. They moved on to hair and make-up.
By the time eight o'clock rolled around Storm was ready. She was spritzing on her favorite perfume when she heard the doorbell ring. "Ok," she told herself, "don't answer it, that will look desperate, just act natural."
"STORM!!!!" an annoyingly loud voice yelled up the stairs, "your DATE is HERE!!!!!!" Rogue grinned, knowing Ororo was going to kill her later. She shrugged. "Oh well, I've had a good life," she thought philosophically.
Ororo quickly smoothed her hair and walked down the steps, vowing to really hurt Rogue when she got home. She reached the end and turned into the hallway to see Kurt, looking surprisingly at ease, talking to Wolverine.
"I'm taking her to a restaurant," he was saying as he caught sight of her. He smiled, "Good evening, Ororo, you look incredible." "Your large friend here was just giving me the third degree."
"Logan, I thought we already had this talk," Storm said dangerously.
"You said I couldn't threaten him, we were having a nice conversation," Wolverine said, a bit too innocently.
"Ja, it was very kind of you to show me your metal claws, Logan, they are very nice," he paused when he saw Storm's eyes narrow and begin to turn white. "But we really must be going," he said quickly.
"This isn't over, Wolverine, when I find you and Rogue you will BOTH be lucky if I don't assign each of you a permanent rain cloud to follow you around for the rest of the year," she threatened in a nonchalant tone of voice. She reached for her coat.
"Can you do that?" Logan asked, surprised.
"Yes," she said. Then she turned to Kurt, who had finished helping her into her leather jacket.
"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.
She took it, giving him a radiant smile. "I think we shall." Kurt opened the door and motioned to his car, a black mustang. He opened the door for her and then walked to his side. Climbing in, he started it and they headed off the Institute grounds.
"Just like riding a bike," Kurt murmured.
Ororo raised an eyebrow, "What it?"
"Driving a car," Kurt replied. "I usually ride my motorcycle, but I rented this one because I did not feel it would be good to pick you up on a bike."
"Wise decision," Ororo said, with a smile to make it sound less superior. "You know, I could have picked you up," she said.
"That would be very ungentlemanly of me," Kurt told her, pretending to be soundly shocked.
"Hey, this is the twenty-first century, it's very liberated for us girls to pick up our dates," she said, grinning at his mock-horrified look.
"So," Kurt asked, changing the subject, "is that your power, water?"
Ororo abruptly realized they had never discussed what each other could do, she didn't even know what kind of powers he had. "Not exactly," she said, "I control all types of weather." "Lightning, rain, winds, I can do it all." "What about you, what's your mutation, besides the obvious."
"I," Kurt said proudly, "am a teleporter."
"Really?" Ororo asked, she had never met anyone with that mutation before. "How does that work?"
"Mostly, I just think about where I want to go and "bamph" I'm there," he told her.
"Bamph?" she asked.
"It's sort of the sound it makes," Kurt said. "I, myself, have never heard it, but people tell me that's what it sounds like."
"Teleporting sounds like fun," Ororo said, "but I don't think I'd trade it for flying."
"Yes, flying is infinitely better," Kurt agreed.
"Have you flown before?" she asked as they turned down another rode.
"I was in the Munich circus awhile back, a trapeze artist; it's the closest thing to flying that you can get." He smiled at the memories. "It was also a lot of fun."
"You were the star attraction?" Ororo asked, smiling at the thought of him performing for the crowds.
"Well, I was good, but not quite that good," he grinned again. "You know, they used to call me the Incredible Nightcrawler." He sighed, "I guess they didn't know me very well."
Ororo frowned at that. "I don't know, Kurt," she said, "I think you're pretty incredible."
Kurt turned to her, his smile returning, "Ja, but you have to say that, being an angel and all." Ororo blushed at the compliment, and was grateful when Kurt spoke again. "And here we are." He pulled up in front of a brightly lit restaurant with the words "Myron's" written in neon letters. Kurt opened the polished wooden door and they entered the carefully immaculate dining area. They approached the desk and rang the small bell on the table for assistance, almost immediately a waiter popped up. Literally.
"Kurt!" he said with a huge smile, displaying teeth as green as his skin. "Good to see you again, buddy."
"Robert, I see you managed to get your uniform modified," Kurt replied, nodding to the holes in the man's elbows where two protruding green spikes peeked out.
"Yeah, I squared it with Myron," he said, then changed the topic abruptly. "And who is your very lovely lady friend?" he asked slyly.
"This is Ororo Monroe," he said, smiling at her.
Ororo leaned forward, offering her hand, "A pleasure," she said.
"Well, let me get you two a table," Robert said, after releasing her hand. "Right this way," he motioned for them to follow him.
They were led past several couples, and one room in which a birthday party was taking place, to a secluded candlelit table behind several strategically placed plants. Kurt held out her chair and removed her coat, acting in every way the perfect gentlemen. Ororo couldn't help but enjoy all the attention, she knew there was no way she could train the male X-Men members to be more like her charming date. They were handed the menus and Ororo glanced at Kurt.
"So, what's good?" she asked, skimming the menu.
"Well, they make an excellent chicken primavera and all of the pasta here is always perfect," he replied.
"That sounds good, I definitely feel like Italian," she said. She quickly gave her drink order and chose the chicken fettuccine alfredo, Kurt picked the aforementioned chicken primavera. They talked until their food arrived, ate and talked some more. After they were both thoroughly stuffed they had gotten around to jobs.
"So where do you work?" Ororo asked, taking a sip of her drink.
"I'm an editor for a small newspaper, behind the scenes where most people won't see me." "Actually most of the employees don't mind working for or with a mutant, it seems most people know someone who is one of us."
"You're lucky, I've known several people who have encountered more stiff resistance to their mutations," Ororo said. "I, for one, am glad I found the Xavier Institute," she added. The conversation turned to a more pleasant topic, but eventually they decided it was probably time to leave. Kurt paid for the meal, refusing to let her half it, and giving her an amusingly shocked look when she suggested it. They grabbed their coats and headed for the car, saying goodnight to Robert.
"It's much too early to go home yet," Storm told him decisively. "Do you want to go back to the nightclub?" she asked, "The others are going to be there."
"I would be happy to, as long as you promise to dance with me," he said.
Ororo nodded cautiously, "A slow dance," she said, holding up an admonishing finger.
"Of course, Fraulein," he said with a smile, "those are the best ones."