Chapter 14
Before the Date
Two anguished screams, one masculine and one feminine, erupted from the Acolyte base.
"I SWEAR TO GOD, I'M GONNA SET IT ON FIRE!!!"
* * *
Aidan was in Jennie's room wearing a black bra and panty set and wrestling with a pair of panty hose.
"I swear to God," she yelled again as she fell to the floor, "I'm gonna set the damn thing on fire!!"
"No!" Jennie yelled rushing to Aidan's aid. "Don't you dare set my last pair of panty hose on fire!"
Aidan rolled back and forth on the ground, trying in vain to get the panty hose past her knees. She growled and kicked the panty hose toward the wall. However, the hose got caught on her right foot and the left leg bounced back and hit her in the face.
"That's it!" she yelled as her eyes changed.
"NO!" Jennie yelled, tackling her.
Aidan's eyes returned to normal as Jennie yanked the panty hose off her leg.
"Why can't I just wear tennis shoes?" Aidan whined, pulling herself onto the bed.
"Because you're going to some fancy French restaurant that only Remy can pronounce. I doubt they'll let you in wearing a cocktail dress and Nikes."
"Damn fancy fricken' French place..." Aidan muttered. "Damn Remy..."
"Yeah, I know," Jennie said, fixing the tangled panty hose. "Now try this: bunch up the leg, slip your foot in, and THEN roll it up."
Aidan sneered at Jennie and snatched the panty hose. She slowly began maneuvering the hose up her right leg. After about five minutes, she had worked the hose up the length of her right leg, but she got tangled again trying to lift her left leg high enough to slip through the waistband.
Once again, Aidan was on her back on the floor. "Now what?"
"You're supposed to do both legs at the same time," Jennie explained.
"This is ridiculous," Aidan muttered as Jennie helped her to her feet. "Just call the date off. I quit..."
* * *
Remy was in St. John's room helping him get ready. St. John already had his slacks and shirt on and was wrestling with his tie.
"I swear ta God," he yelled as his knot came undone for the ninetieth time, "I'm gonna set the blasted thing on fire!"
"No!" Remy yelled snatching the tie from St. John. "Gambit's grand-mère gave 'im dat tie. It's an heirloom!"
St. John plopped onto the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "This is bleedin' ridiculous. I don't wanna muck with that bloody tie anymore. Can't I just wear a clip-on?"
"Now how refined does a clip-on make ya?"
"Don't gimme that refinement crud. I don't even wanna go to this La Mascara place."
"Le Mascarade," Remy corrected.
"Whatever..." St. John muttered.
"Here," Remy said, putting the tie around John's neck, "jus' watch Remy." Remy pulled another tie from his trench coat pocket and successfully tied the tie.
St. John slowly mimicked Remy's hand movements. "Hey! I think I finally- GAAK!" he choked as the knot slipped too close to his neck.
Remy rushed over and loosened the tie before John passed out.
"Jus' go call off the date," John gasped. "I quit..."
* * *
An hour and a half later, St. John and Aidan were applying the finishing touches to their looks.
Remy and Jennie met in the living room.
"How's it goin' over there?" Jennie asked from the couch.
"He fried a jacket, two pairs'a shoes, a set'a cufflinks, 'n six pairs'a socks. Gambit lucky ta get outta dere wit his life..." he gasped, collapsing next to her.
"Wow... wasn't that bad with Aidan. But we'll need a new curling iron, a new hairdryer, and... a new bathroom set."
"A what?! Gambit don' t'ink he heard you correctly."
"She didn't like her hair and everything wooden or electric in the bathroom caught fire. I did manage to save your rubber ducky though." Jennie smirked sarcastically.
"Very funny, tcheue poule," he said, putting his arm around her.
She pushed his arm away. "I wasn't joking, and I am NOT a chicken ass."
"Very good, chère. Dat's more French dan you're used to."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what do we do now?"
"Gambit t'ought maybe he should talk to da belle femme 'n you could talk to 'er man."
"And what good is that gonna do?"
Gambit shrugged. "It'll let the kids get a view of da mind of da opposite sex. You tell 'im what da girls like and Gambit'll tell 'er what da boys like."
"Hate ta break it to ya, Swamp Rat, but every girl is born knowing what 'the boys like'."
"Dat's not what Gambit meant."
Jennie smirked. "I know. Just pickin' on ya. It is a good idea. Considering the fanciest restaurant Pyro's ever been to was a Burger King."
"Actually, it was an Outback Steakhouse," Remy corrected.
"Whatever. Meet you in thirty minutes?"
"Fine wit me..."
* * *
Aidan was sitting on Jennie's bed, putting on her strappy high-heeled sandals when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," she invited, struggling with the clasp on her shoe. "Grrrr..."
Remy stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "You look très magnifique, chère," he said.
Aidan turned her head to look at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with John."
"Gambit jus' stopped by ta see how you were doin'," he said, sitting next to her.
"Well, I'm a little nervous," she admitted. "This is my first date at a fancy restaurant. I don't want to look like an idiot in front of John."
"Don' worry, chère. Here. Gambit'll give ya some advice. First off, don' try ta be overly independent. Let St. John open doors for ya, n' pull out your chair, n' don' try ta split da bill. Dis evenin' should be all 'bout you."
"But isn't that rude? I mean, shouldn't I at least leave the tip?"
"Nah. At dese fancy res'trants da gratuity's already in da bill."
Aidan's eyes widened. "Good thing you told me that now. I never would have thought about that."
"S'all right, chère," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Dat's what Gambit's here for. Now, ya got any otha questions?"
Aidan thought for a moment and then kicked her left foot onto his lap. "Could you fasten this for me?" she asked with a sweet smile.
* * *
St. John stared at himself in the mirror over his dresser. Should he shave again? He rubbed his fingers over his chin. Felt a little prickly...
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, once again inspecting his face.
"What are you doing?" Jennie asked, stopping behind him.
"Jus' checkin' me face. Ya think I should shave again?"
"You look fine, John."
"What're you doin' on this side o'the house? I thought you were over with Aidan."
"Just wanted to check in on you," Jennie said, sitting in his black beanbag chair. "How ya feelin'?"
"Like I'm gonna throw up last week's stroganoff," he said, facing her and leaning on his dresser. "Is 'at normal?"
"For a first date, yes."
"I jus' don't wanna look like a complete loser in front 'a Aidan."
"You won't."
"I will. I don't know about dates, 'n sheilas, 'n stupid fancy restaurants..."
"You want some advice, John? Let her be independent. It's nice for you guys to be chivalrous and stuff, but opening doors and pulling out chairs just gets annoying after a while. I mean, it's not like we're disabled. We can do stuff like that on our own."
"Okay."
"And, if she offers, split the bill. She ate too. This date is all about her, right?"
St. John nodded.
"Then don't make her feel inferior by doing all that stuff for her."
"I think I get it," St. John said, rubbing his chin. "You sure I don' hafta shave again?"
* * *
St. John paced nervously on the front porch. It was six o'clock. He was wearing the red shirt, black slacks, and black coat from the other night, only the shirt was buttoned and a black tie graced his neck. Surprisingly, Remy let him do his own hair. It was still spiky, but calm. He checked his watch. 6:02. Okay, Jennie said reservations were for seven. How the hell were they supposed to get to this place anyway?
* * *
Meanwhile, Aidan and Jennie were arguing in Jennie's room.
"Why can't I take it with me?" Aidan whined.
"Because it's too big. You need something petite," Jennie said.
"Why? I like my mini-backpack." Aidan picked up her backpack from the vanity.
Jennie rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's five after six. You'll be late if we argue anymore."
"Tee hee," Aidan smirked, hugging her bag.
"Let's go," Jennie said, grabbing Aidan's elbow and ushering her to the front door.
* * *
Suddenly, the front door swung open and Aidan stepped out. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and black strappy high-heeled sandals. Her hair tumbled to her kidneys in a slightly messy set of curls. St. John picked his jaw up from the floor and walked over to her.
"Wow..." was all he could manage to say.
"Thanks," Aidan said, blushing slightly. "You look nice too..."
"Well, yeah, uh... Remy does do a good job, eh?" he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Well," Aidan said, still very nervous. "What do we do now?"
"I, uh, I dunno."
* * *
Remy, Jennie, and Piotr were peeking over the windowsill watching the first bits of awkward opening conversation.
"Look at them," Piotr whispered. "They are so nervous."
"Yeah," Remy agreed. "Dis is weird."
"I know what you mean," Jennie whispered. "It's almost like watching one of those nature shows, y'know? 'Next on Wild Discovery: the mating ritual of the pyromaniac'."
Remy smiled and Piotr rolled his eyes. "You are ridiculous..."
"Oh, no," Jennie whispered. "What're they doing? You can't ride a motorcycle in a cocktail dress!"
"Gambit got dis one, chère."
He stood up and walked toward the front door.
"What does he mean he's 'got this one'?" Jennie asked.
"How should I know? He is your boyfriend," Piotr said, standing to follow Remy.
Jennie walked onto the porch just as Remy was saying, "Hang on, mon ami!"
St. John and Aidan stopped halfway to the Harley and turned around.
"What is it, mate?" St. John asked.
"Y'can't take a bike to Le Mascarade."
"Then what're we supposed to do?" Aidan asked. "Walk? I don't think these heels will make it if we do."
"Nah, chère, no walkin' required." He reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a tiny box with a red button on it. He pressed the button and the ground to the left of the driveway began to rise into the air.
"What the hell...?" Jennie muttered.
Remy pushed the button a second time and a set of garage doors opened to reveal a 2004 black Corvette.
Aidan's jaw dropped to the ground.
St. John looked angry. "You made me walk all the way to that bloody 7 Eleven when we 'ad THAT! When did we get a Corvette?"
Jennie also looked angry. She slapped Remy's arm. "When did we get a secret underground garage?"
Aidan ran over to the car and gently traced her fingers over the top. "I'm in heaven," she muttered. "It's a convertible."
"Dere ya go," Remy said, tossing St. John the keys. "Take 'er out wit style!"
John and Aidan hopped into the car and drove off.
Remy and Piotr walked back to the house, leaving Jennie in the driveway muttering to herself.
"A secret underground garage... I bought this house; my name is on the deed. Why the hell don't I know about these things?"
Before the Date
Two anguished screams, one masculine and one feminine, erupted from the Acolyte base.
"I SWEAR TO GOD, I'M GONNA SET IT ON FIRE!!!"
* * *
Aidan was in Jennie's room wearing a black bra and panty set and wrestling with a pair of panty hose.
"I swear to God," she yelled again as she fell to the floor, "I'm gonna set the damn thing on fire!!"
"No!" Jennie yelled rushing to Aidan's aid. "Don't you dare set my last pair of panty hose on fire!"
Aidan rolled back and forth on the ground, trying in vain to get the panty hose past her knees. She growled and kicked the panty hose toward the wall. However, the hose got caught on her right foot and the left leg bounced back and hit her in the face.
"That's it!" she yelled as her eyes changed.
"NO!" Jennie yelled, tackling her.
Aidan's eyes returned to normal as Jennie yanked the panty hose off her leg.
"Why can't I just wear tennis shoes?" Aidan whined, pulling herself onto the bed.
"Because you're going to some fancy French restaurant that only Remy can pronounce. I doubt they'll let you in wearing a cocktail dress and Nikes."
"Damn fancy fricken' French place..." Aidan muttered. "Damn Remy..."
"Yeah, I know," Jennie said, fixing the tangled panty hose. "Now try this: bunch up the leg, slip your foot in, and THEN roll it up."
Aidan sneered at Jennie and snatched the panty hose. She slowly began maneuvering the hose up her right leg. After about five minutes, she had worked the hose up the length of her right leg, but she got tangled again trying to lift her left leg high enough to slip through the waistband.
Once again, Aidan was on her back on the floor. "Now what?"
"You're supposed to do both legs at the same time," Jennie explained.
"This is ridiculous," Aidan muttered as Jennie helped her to her feet. "Just call the date off. I quit..."
* * *
Remy was in St. John's room helping him get ready. St. John already had his slacks and shirt on and was wrestling with his tie.
"I swear ta God," he yelled as his knot came undone for the ninetieth time, "I'm gonna set the blasted thing on fire!"
"No!" Remy yelled snatching the tie from St. John. "Gambit's grand-mère gave 'im dat tie. It's an heirloom!"
St. John plopped onto the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "This is bleedin' ridiculous. I don't wanna muck with that bloody tie anymore. Can't I just wear a clip-on?"
"Now how refined does a clip-on make ya?"
"Don't gimme that refinement crud. I don't even wanna go to this La Mascara place."
"Le Mascarade," Remy corrected.
"Whatever..." St. John muttered.
"Here," Remy said, putting the tie around John's neck, "jus' watch Remy." Remy pulled another tie from his trench coat pocket and successfully tied the tie.
St. John slowly mimicked Remy's hand movements. "Hey! I think I finally- GAAK!" he choked as the knot slipped too close to his neck.
Remy rushed over and loosened the tie before John passed out.
"Jus' go call off the date," John gasped. "I quit..."
* * *
An hour and a half later, St. John and Aidan were applying the finishing touches to their looks.
Remy and Jennie met in the living room.
"How's it goin' over there?" Jennie asked from the couch.
"He fried a jacket, two pairs'a shoes, a set'a cufflinks, 'n six pairs'a socks. Gambit lucky ta get outta dere wit his life..." he gasped, collapsing next to her.
"Wow... wasn't that bad with Aidan. But we'll need a new curling iron, a new hairdryer, and... a new bathroom set."
"A what?! Gambit don' t'ink he heard you correctly."
"She didn't like her hair and everything wooden or electric in the bathroom caught fire. I did manage to save your rubber ducky though." Jennie smirked sarcastically.
"Very funny, tcheue poule," he said, putting his arm around her.
She pushed his arm away. "I wasn't joking, and I am NOT a chicken ass."
"Very good, chère. Dat's more French dan you're used to."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what do we do now?"
"Gambit t'ought maybe he should talk to da belle femme 'n you could talk to 'er man."
"And what good is that gonna do?"
Gambit shrugged. "It'll let the kids get a view of da mind of da opposite sex. You tell 'im what da girls like and Gambit'll tell 'er what da boys like."
"Hate ta break it to ya, Swamp Rat, but every girl is born knowing what 'the boys like'."
"Dat's not what Gambit meant."
Jennie smirked. "I know. Just pickin' on ya. It is a good idea. Considering the fanciest restaurant Pyro's ever been to was a Burger King."
"Actually, it was an Outback Steakhouse," Remy corrected.
"Whatever. Meet you in thirty minutes?"
"Fine wit me..."
* * *
Aidan was sitting on Jennie's bed, putting on her strappy high-heeled sandals when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," she invited, struggling with the clasp on her shoe. "Grrrr..."
Remy stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "You look très magnifique, chère," he said.
Aidan turned her head to look at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with John."
"Gambit jus' stopped by ta see how you were doin'," he said, sitting next to her.
"Well, I'm a little nervous," she admitted. "This is my first date at a fancy restaurant. I don't want to look like an idiot in front of John."
"Don' worry, chère. Here. Gambit'll give ya some advice. First off, don' try ta be overly independent. Let St. John open doors for ya, n' pull out your chair, n' don' try ta split da bill. Dis evenin' should be all 'bout you."
"But isn't that rude? I mean, shouldn't I at least leave the tip?"
"Nah. At dese fancy res'trants da gratuity's already in da bill."
Aidan's eyes widened. "Good thing you told me that now. I never would have thought about that."
"S'all right, chère," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Dat's what Gambit's here for. Now, ya got any otha questions?"
Aidan thought for a moment and then kicked her left foot onto his lap. "Could you fasten this for me?" she asked with a sweet smile.
* * *
St. John stared at himself in the mirror over his dresser. Should he shave again? He rubbed his fingers over his chin. Felt a little prickly...
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, once again inspecting his face.
"What are you doing?" Jennie asked, stopping behind him.
"Jus' checkin' me face. Ya think I should shave again?"
"You look fine, John."
"What're you doin' on this side o'the house? I thought you were over with Aidan."
"Just wanted to check in on you," Jennie said, sitting in his black beanbag chair. "How ya feelin'?"
"Like I'm gonna throw up last week's stroganoff," he said, facing her and leaning on his dresser. "Is 'at normal?"
"For a first date, yes."
"I jus' don't wanna look like a complete loser in front 'a Aidan."
"You won't."
"I will. I don't know about dates, 'n sheilas, 'n stupid fancy restaurants..."
"You want some advice, John? Let her be independent. It's nice for you guys to be chivalrous and stuff, but opening doors and pulling out chairs just gets annoying after a while. I mean, it's not like we're disabled. We can do stuff like that on our own."
"Okay."
"And, if she offers, split the bill. She ate too. This date is all about her, right?"
St. John nodded.
"Then don't make her feel inferior by doing all that stuff for her."
"I think I get it," St. John said, rubbing his chin. "You sure I don' hafta shave again?"
* * *
St. John paced nervously on the front porch. It was six o'clock. He was wearing the red shirt, black slacks, and black coat from the other night, only the shirt was buttoned and a black tie graced his neck. Surprisingly, Remy let him do his own hair. It was still spiky, but calm. He checked his watch. 6:02. Okay, Jennie said reservations were for seven. How the hell were they supposed to get to this place anyway?
* * *
Meanwhile, Aidan and Jennie were arguing in Jennie's room.
"Why can't I take it with me?" Aidan whined.
"Because it's too big. You need something petite," Jennie said.
"Why? I like my mini-backpack." Aidan picked up her backpack from the vanity.
Jennie rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's five after six. You'll be late if we argue anymore."
"Tee hee," Aidan smirked, hugging her bag.
"Let's go," Jennie said, grabbing Aidan's elbow and ushering her to the front door.
* * *
Suddenly, the front door swung open and Aidan stepped out. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and black strappy high-heeled sandals. Her hair tumbled to her kidneys in a slightly messy set of curls. St. John picked his jaw up from the floor and walked over to her.
"Wow..." was all he could manage to say.
"Thanks," Aidan said, blushing slightly. "You look nice too..."
"Well, yeah, uh... Remy does do a good job, eh?" he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Well," Aidan said, still very nervous. "What do we do now?"
"I, uh, I dunno."
* * *
Remy, Jennie, and Piotr were peeking over the windowsill watching the first bits of awkward opening conversation.
"Look at them," Piotr whispered. "They are so nervous."
"Yeah," Remy agreed. "Dis is weird."
"I know what you mean," Jennie whispered. "It's almost like watching one of those nature shows, y'know? 'Next on Wild Discovery: the mating ritual of the pyromaniac'."
Remy smiled and Piotr rolled his eyes. "You are ridiculous..."
"Oh, no," Jennie whispered. "What're they doing? You can't ride a motorcycle in a cocktail dress!"
"Gambit got dis one, chère."
He stood up and walked toward the front door.
"What does he mean he's 'got this one'?" Jennie asked.
"How should I know? He is your boyfriend," Piotr said, standing to follow Remy.
Jennie walked onto the porch just as Remy was saying, "Hang on, mon ami!"
St. John and Aidan stopped halfway to the Harley and turned around.
"What is it, mate?" St. John asked.
"Y'can't take a bike to Le Mascarade."
"Then what're we supposed to do?" Aidan asked. "Walk? I don't think these heels will make it if we do."
"Nah, chère, no walkin' required." He reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a tiny box with a red button on it. He pressed the button and the ground to the left of the driveway began to rise into the air.
"What the hell...?" Jennie muttered.
Remy pushed the button a second time and a set of garage doors opened to reveal a 2004 black Corvette.
Aidan's jaw dropped to the ground.
St. John looked angry. "You made me walk all the way to that bloody 7 Eleven when we 'ad THAT! When did we get a Corvette?"
Jennie also looked angry. She slapped Remy's arm. "When did we get a secret underground garage?"
Aidan ran over to the car and gently traced her fingers over the top. "I'm in heaven," she muttered. "It's a convertible."
"Dere ya go," Remy said, tossing St. John the keys. "Take 'er out wit style!"
John and Aidan hopped into the car and drove off.
Remy and Piotr walked back to the house, leaving Jennie in the driveway muttering to herself.
"A secret underground garage... I bought this house; my name is on the deed. Why the hell don't I know about these things?"
