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Take Me Out Tonight	By : Darkhoelme Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Het - Male/Female Views: 5748 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Kurt

Kurt swatted Rogue on the hip as she gave him the world's
tiniest violin treatment. He would have stuck his tongue out as well, but given
he was looking at the back of her neck it would have been wasted effort, so he
just tightened his grip and leaned into her as she revved the engine, peeled
out of the garage and headed for the gates.

He half expected Logan
to hear the hum of his beloved motorcycle and appear in the drive ahead of
them, claws bared and ready to fillet them for their transgression. Kind of a
shame he didn't, really. They were probably gonna suffer for swiping his bike
anyway, and it would've been pretty entertaining to see the look on his face as
Rogue swerved around him and kept going - which Kurt was pretty sure she'd have
done.

Still, the ride was pretty much worth it anyway. Rogue
took the twists and turns of the winding road into town at insane speeds, almost
laying the bike down a couple of times, and Kurt grinned and held tighter, his
knee just missed brushing the pavement as it sped past. She slowed down when
they got to Bayville, but just enough to avoid being (too much of) an outright
menace and they probably would've been pulled over if there'd been any cops on
their route.

"Okay, I won't bitch about being stuck on the back if
you're gonna drive like that!" Kurt said, his grin stretching from ear to
hear as he swung his leg over the back and pulled off his helmet. As Rogue got
the bike sorted out he looked around at the groups heading out of the parking
lot and towards the entrance to the club. Every time the door opened to admit
someone he could hear the music pumping out into the night and he bounced
slightly to the beat as he pushed a hand through his hair to settle it into
some semblance of order.

"So, dancing first or grab something to eat?" he
asked as he latched onto Rogue's arm and guided her in the direction of the
line - relatively short still at this hour. Yay for coming early enough that
the place hopefully wouldn't be too crowded for Rogue to be able to loosen up
and have a bit of fun before it got packed and she got too freaked at the press
of bodies...hopefully.

Rogue

The near-ass slapping. Was it really necessary? Oh, well,
she'd kill him later for it. As they neared the gates, she kept a careful watch
on the mansion. For a short little midget-man, Logan could move pretty fucking fast. Those
stubby little legs were all muscle. They got through the gates with no problem,
though, and she grinned. Now, the fun could begin.

As they sped down the deserted roads that led into the
city proper, she leaned forward, loving the fact that it was Logan's bike that she was
bringing close to crashing repeatedly. As they skidded around a corner and the
lights of the city were clearly visible, she took the speed down a notch. Half
a notch. A notchlet. Enough. Within a few minutes, they reached the club. "Okay,
I won't bitch about being stuck on the back if you're gonna drive like
that!"

She looked back as best she could with the helmet still on
and nodded. Damn straight he wouldn't. She shut the bike off and slid off,
fixing her skirt and pulling the helmet off. She followed Kurt's gaze to the
club and frowned. There were a lot of people. It was early, but there was still
a steady stream of teenagers heading through the door. "Maybe this isn't
such a good idea�."

"So, dancing first or grab something to eat?"
Fuzzy had selective hearing, no doubt about it. He led her toward the club and
she tried not to think too much about how the evening would almost definitely
end in death.

"Food, I guess. I hate
accidentally killing people on an empty stomach." Besides, the food area
was bound to be less crowded than the dance floor.

Kurt

Kurt simply ignored Rogue's misgivings as he towed her
towards the line at the door - heck, you could hardly even call it a line since
it never really stopped. It was early and there'd be plenty of room to maneuver
inside, not to mention that she was completely safe and covered unless some
freak made a grab for her face or neck. She totally needed to relax and enjoy
herself and he was just the elf to make her do it.

"Food, I guess. I hate accidentally killing people
on an empty stomach." was her typically cheerful and upbeat answer to
his question.

"Because you've killed so very many, Stinktier,"
he answered her, rolling his eyes and smiling wryly at her. "You're not
going to kill anyone just by hanging out and dancing and stuff for a
while," he insisted, low-voiced, as they neared the steadily moving line.
"You and your patented death touch have maneuvered the halls at BHS for
almost two years without taking anyone out, and that place is like feeding time
at the zoo during passing periods.

"Besides," he added with a cheery grin and a
wink as they stepped into the line, "I'll protect you from any nutjobs
with deathwishes. I give you my word as a gentleman," and he swept her a
dramatic boy, stopping just short of kissing her hand, since she'd probably go
straight to skinning him for that one, no matter how irresistibly adorable he
was. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure she'd gotten that particular memo.

The music was loud enough to be heard even when the doors
were closed now, and Kurt bounced slightly in place as they made their way
forward. Food first, but then he was so dragging her onto the dance floor. He
missed dancing, and it had been way too long since he'd had any excuse other
than bouncing around his room to the stereo. Hopefully this place would live up
to its billing.

Rogue

"You and your patented death touch have maneuvered
the halls at BHS for almost two years without taking anyone out, and that place
is like feeding time at the zoo during passing periods." She rolled
her eyes. No matter how much he tried to make little analogies, it didn't
change the fact that the last time she was in a crowded, darkish place with
music blaring, she'd nearly killed everyone. Kurt included. And besides, school
was a bad example.

"It's different when I want
to kill them."

She sighed as they made it to the line. Once they got in,
they were in. "Besides, I'll protect you from any nutjobs with
deathwishes. I give you my word as a gentleman." She looked at him and
took a deep breath, stepping into the line. Okay. It was okay. Just a fucking
club. She was well covered, and things wouldn't go wrong. Goddamn it, even she
didn't believe her own phony optimism. The whole world was about to go to hell,
courtesy of her. Well, might as well get on with it.

The line moved fairly quickly, and they got up to the
door, where a completely disinterested bouncer waved them in. That was
reassuring. They stepped into the club, and she looked around. Okay. Not too
crowded. Especially over by the food. She nodded in the general direction of
said food and jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey,
aren't you--" She swatted his hand away and answered simply,
"No."

Turning back to Kurt, she gave him a "toldja so"
look and started toward the food. "You're buying, Fuzzy." Because no
way was she going to pay for the food when he'd been the one to drag her into
that crowded death trap in the first place. No way in hell.

Kurt

He laughed when she rolled her eyes at his assurances. He
was so not gonna let her own personal little black rain cloud ruin this. If
she'd relax and stop worrying long enough to accept it, she could have a pretty
verdammt normal life. So long as she was careful, and she always was, there was
no reason for anything to go wrong.

"It's different when I want to kill them."

"Pfft!" he answered, looking up and down the
line of teens and spotting face after familiar face. "You're good to go,
then. Most everyone here is from BHS, so I'm sure you probably want to kill
most of them anyway. Besides," he added with a teasing bow, "I'll
protect you from any nutjobs with deathwishes. I give you my word as a
gentleman."

She stepped into line with a deep, cleansing breath and he
had the urge to remind her this was fun, not Frau Monroe's yoga class, but he
kept his mouth shut and just grinned in triumph. She was in the line, he'd won
this battle and she was going to have fun if it killed him...though he'd prefer
to survive the experience, all things being equal.

He forked over the cover charge as they hit the front of
the line and stepped happily into the thumping bass line and strobing lights.
Perfect! There was no real crowd at all yet, even on the dance floor, and the
snack bar area was almost vacant.

Rogue had just nodded at the snack bar and he'd turned to
head over when she jumped and he spun around just in time to see anonymous
dumbshit with a deathwish number one.

"Hey, aren't you--" She swatted his hand away
and answered simply, "No."

"God, bitch much?" the guy muttered as he backed
away, Kurt adding his glare to Rogue's own as he disappeared back onto the
dance floor. Way to start things off on just the wrong foot, and he turned back
to meet Rogue's "toldja so" with a shake of his head and an
exasperated eyeroll.

"You're buying, Fuzzy."

"Natuerlich!" he answered, voice raised to be
heard over the drive of the music. He'd expected to anyway, considering how
much harassment it had taken to even get her to agree to come. "And you've
already gotten past the obligatory dumbass with a deathwish without so much as
a headache!" he added as he leaned against the snack counter, idly
examining a giant hookah near the register. They'd definitely accessorized to
go with the place's name.

"So, what's your poison?" he asked, eyeing the
menu and settling on nachos and a Red Bull, he was so indulging in a caffeine
high. "I recommend high calories to fortify you for a night on the dance floor."

Rogue

Somehow, Kurt's assurance that just about everyone in the
club was killable didn't really help to ease her discomfort. As much as she
threatened, she really really didn't like the idea of offing someone
with her powers. As they headed into the club, some moron decided to tap her on
the shoulder and ask a stupid question. Fucking idiot. Glancing toward the
dance floor, she frowned. Yeah, people there definitely seemed to have an issue
with the invasion of personal space. What fun. She ignored the moron's little
muttered attempt at keeping himself "cool," and instead focused on
what was most important right then. Snacks.

"Natuerlich!" Damn straight. "And
you've already gotten past the obligatory dumbass with a deathwish without so
much as a headache!" She rolled her eyes and looked over at him as
they neared the snack bar. There were tons of people in the club. The chances
of someone else not coming up to her like that were pretty slim. Of course,
Kurt didn't have to worry about that. No, he had his handy little image
inducer. Didn't have to worry at all about getting recognized, be it by fans or
by military personnel who have no problem tracking you down while you try to
buy food. Glancing around the room again, she nodded. "Dumbass number one,
at least."

"So, what's your poison?"

"Arsenic. Oh." She picked up a menu and looked
it over. Obviously, the food wasn't the big selling point of the place. "I
recommend high calories to fortify you for a night on the dance floor."
She frowned at him over the menu. A night on the dance floor? That hadn't been
part of the agreement. She'd said that she would dance. Not that she would do
it all night. Folding the menu, she sat it back down on the counter and ordered
a soft pretzel and Amp. Most of the drinks they had on the damned thing were
energy drinks. Or water. Probably the closest they could come to alcohol. Sad,
really. Nudging Kurt in the ribs, she pointed toward a table that was in the
process of being vacated. "I'm going to go grab that."

Heading over, she slid into one of the chairs, just as the
last person moved away. Probably all going to bump and grind out on the dance
floor. At least she had that to look forward to. Yay. Fuck, how had she let
Kurt talk her into this?

She looked out at the dance floor, frowning. It was the
stupidest thing she could do, go to a dance club. That's how everything
started. What's the harm in one dance? Fuck, she'd walked right into that one.
She hadn't even realized that she was lost in her own little world until
someone nearby cleared their throat as if they'd been trying to get her
attention for awhile. "Vampyra?"

Turning, she narrowed her eyes. Bobby was dead. After
clarifying that Vampyra was not her name, and a few moments of the girl
sucking up and being generally bothersome, she finally agreed to sign an
autograph. Grabbing the girl's pen, she scribbled "Get a fucking life,
-Rogue" on a napkin and shoved it toward the girl. There, she'd reached
out to the... whatever. Where was Kurt, anyway?

Kurt

"Dumbass number one, at least."

Ooookay, so he wasn't making much progress with the whole
distracting her and loosening her up thing, apparently. Good thing for her he
was persistent, not to mention incredibly good company

"So, what's your poison?"

"Arsenic. Oh."

"Ha. Ha. Smartass," he answered, sticking his
tongue out at her as she grabbed a menu. Talk about a limited selection, but
the place was obviously about the music and dancing, not about the food. Too
bad he couldn't get a beer, though. A beer would definitely improve the
experience...and it might help to wash away the memory of that heinous - but
potent - rotgut Sam and Bobby had brought to the lake.

He'd just pulled out his wallet to pay for their order
when she nudged him in the ribs - hey, physical contact! He'd take what
progress he could get at this point. Of course, while he was celebrating, if
only in his head, she made a break for the table she'd indicated, which was a
bad thing, because it probably meant she was gonna try and install herself in
order to avoid getting up and dancing. Verfluckt.

Okay, just a minor setback. They'd eat and then he'd
cajole - or outright drag - her onto the dance floor. It took a couple of
minutes for the guy behind the counter to put their order together, and Kurt
checked out the activity on the dance floor, moving almost unconsciously to the
music as he waited. The DJ was playing a good mix of fast-paced dance music
with the base turned up to a visceral, driving thump that Kurt could feel in
his bones.

He was totally zoned out on the music by the time his
order was ready, and he collected it with a grin and a shrug after the counter
guy had to tap him on the back of the head to get his attention. Gott, this was
one of those times when his tail would have come in handy, but he compensated
by slipping the drinks into the pockets of his baggy cargoes and made his way
over to the table Rogue had staked out, cocking his head curiously at the sight
of some girl scurrying away with a napkin clutched to her chest and Rogue
scowling after her.

"Are they special souvenir napkins or
something?" he asked, looking down at the pile of - yep, totally
nondescript, off-white - napkins on the table as he passed Rogue her pretzel
and dug her drink out of his pocket. "Or did she just have a napkin fetish
- which, I have to say, would be just a bit weird," he added, as he
dropped into the seat across from her and popped his own drink open. Mmmmm,
ADHD in a can.

Rogue

Rogue watched as the girl scampered away back to whatever
creepy little hole she'd crawled out of, seemingly disappearing into the crowd.
She liked it better when everyone thought that they were trying to take over
the world, one giant evil robot at a time. "Are they special souvenir
napkins or something?" She looked up as Kurt handed her the pretzel
she'd ordered and examined the napkins. "Or did she just have a napkin
fetish - which, I have to say, would be just a bit weird."

She popped the tab open on her drink
and shrugged. "People are into all kinds of weird shit."

No, she was definitely not going to tell him that she'd
actually signed an autograph for someone. Granted, it wasn't the friendliest of
autographs, but it was still something. She'd mostly done it just to get the
whiny little bitch to shut the fuck up. She tore off a piece of the pretzel and
chewed it slowly. She wasn't really hungry, but since it was Kurt's money being
spent, she felt bad not wasting some of it on sub-par food. He'd eat it if she
didn't, anyway. Boy was like a bottomless pit.

Her eyes went back to the dance floor, and she watched the
people moving, some of them in synch with others, some completely on their own.
But none of them cared. They were just having a good time, and they didn't have
to worry about killing each other.

It was a real shame that loud music no longer blocked out
the voices the way it used to. She closed her eyes, trying to get them all in
order. Especially the ones who were being bitchy about the whole thing, telling
her that she was making too big of a deal about it. How they could
possibly think that her powers weren't that big of a deal was beyond her. She
pushed the pretzel toward Kurt and took a sip of her drink, gesturing toward
the pretzel. "I'm done with it if you want it."

Taking a deep breath, she looked back out at the dance
floor. This was like some kind of fucked up therapy thing. Face your fears.
Well, one of them. The whole clubbing scenario was just one of many things that
scared the hell out of her. All of them involved contact, and the fear was
almost always more rooted in the fact that it was all something she'd never
have than the actual danger of the situation.

Yeah, she was selfish. Helped her keep track of which self
she was. Goddamn, she hadn't planned on sitting around being emo all night.
Turning back to Kurt, she frowned and downed some more of her drink, then took
a deep breath. "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

Kurt

"People are into all kinds of weird shit."
was the only answer Rogue offered as Kurt joined her at the table and started
in on his own food. Mmmm, crunchy cheesy goodness and caffeine. Just what the
doctor ordered. Rogue didn't seem quite as enthusiastic about her pretzel,
though, just picking at it and looking disgruntled. This was definitely not
working out quite the way Kurt had hoped - however irrationally - it would. But
the night was still young, there was always a chance of turning things around.

And she was actually watching the dancers. That was
a start, at least it was in the world of the terminally optimistic. Deciding
that it was probably best to lay off for a while and let her get comfortable
with the idea that the dance floor wasn't really crowded and the music was
pretty good, Kurt focused on plowing through his own heart-attack on a tray and
watching the activity on the dance floor himself.

There were a few people with some relatively decent moves,
but the vast majority of them were just randomly writhing or bouncing sort of to the beat...which was totally
good, it was all about having fun with it, he just couldn't be bothered
watching them. That one couple over on the far side of the floor, though, they
were totally into it and he watched as the light strobed across bodies moving
perfectly in synch with each other and the music. Made his feet itch to get out
there, and when Rogue pushed her barely touched pretzel across to him he
blinked at her distractedly for a moment before smiling his thanks and starting
in on it. He'd apparently managed to finish off most of his nachos without even
noticing somewhere along the line, but he pushed the plundered remains towards
her in offer in case they were more appealing to her than the pretzel.

"The DJ's good," he offered, grinning at her
over the rim of his Red Bull as he polished it off. "No teeny-pop and the
mix is good." It all had a good beat, but there wasn't any sign they were
going to have the likes of...whoever the latest pre-teen pop heartthrob of the
moment was...inflicted on them in the name of 'dance music'. Talk about a
blessing, he'd had more than his share of that last night.

Taking a deep breath, she looked back out at
the dance floor and Kurt watched, waiting for her reaction. He'd
been pushing at her to do this but if she really was freaked out too
bad...well, they could always do something else. The point wasn't to torture
her, after all, it was just to get her out doing something like...well,
like the normal teens they so totally weren't, but could at least pretend to
be. Some of the time. If she didn't loosen up and just let herself be
sometimes he was afraid the isolation was going to drive her batshit long
before the voices in her head did.

Turning back to
Kurt, she frowned and downed some more of her drink, then took a deep breath
and he arched an eyebrow inquisitively at her, lips twitching into a half
smile. "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

"You know, I think Marie Antoinette probably met her
executioner with about as much enthusiasm," he teased, getting to his feet
with a slight pause to recover his balance as he compensated for the lack of
his tail and the need to actually stand straight up. So much for being grace personified,
and he smiled ruefully at Rogue as he held out his hand in invitation.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, eyes dancing teasingly. "I
promise I won't step on your toes or anything."

And when he got right down to it that really was the only
thing he could promise. He couldn't guarantee that some moron wouldn't stumble
into her, no matter how optimistic a face he put on it. Any more than he could
guarantee that his inducer wouldn't fritz out right in the middle of the dance
floor or someone wouldn't stumble into him and realize that what they saw and
what they felt didn't even begin to match up. The world actually could
come crashing down around their ears tonight and there wasn't a verdammt thing
he could do about it.

Just like he couldn't give her the chance to go out and
really be normal; accept a dance from some cute stranger, make out in one of
the dark alcoves along the walls...couldn't do any of the above himself, for
that matter. But they could dance, hang out, enjoy the music and a semi-reasonable
facsimile of normality at least for a little while. There were bazillions of
chances for the world to go to hell in a hand basket on any given day.
Sometimes you just had to say to hell with it and grab whatever semblance of
normal you could latch onto and make it last for as long as you could.

Rogue

She eyed the nachos somewhat suspiciously. They definitely
had that "bottom of the basket" cheese covered sogginess thing going
for them. Not as appetizing as it sounds. So instead, she let her eyes drift
back out to the dance floor. "The DJ's good." She turned to
Kurt, considering the statement. The DJ seemed okay, at least. "No
teeny-pop and the mix is good."

Well, that was true. Of course, it
might not have been the DJ's personal greatness so much as the fact that if
there was a song played that sounded anything even remotely similar to
something that had been played at the concert of doom the night before, people
would freak. "Something tells me they'll be steering clear of Dazzler
music for awhile."

Really, though, that was a good thing. Because even if the
concert had gone well, she personally would have had to hit something if she
heard too much of that woman's music. Knowing some of the kids at the
Institute, they'd probably play her CD's for a few days after the concert. So
the fact that it had turned into a nightmare was almost good. Especially since,
for once, it hadn't been her fault. Maybe concerts in Bayville were just plain
doomed.

The floor started to clear out a tiny bit as the song ended,
and people made their way to the bathrooms or snack bar. Taking a few deep
breaths, she finally decided that it was now or never. Fuck, it was a goddamn
club. She shouldn't have to talk herself into doing the normal things that you
did at a clu... and there were definitely people making out at the table next
to them. She resisted the urge to use nachos as a weapon and informed Kurt that
she was ready whenever he was.

And that seemed to amuse him. "You know, I think
Marie Antoinette probably met her executioner with about as much
enthusiasm." She opened her mouth to snap something back at him, but
his lack of agility made her crack a smile. Walk much? That was a bit unfair,
and she stopped herself before she said it aloud. He did have that tail
tucked away God knew where. Had to make balancing a challenge. "May I
have this dance?"

She considered the question for a moment. Voices in her
head were telling her (some more politely than others) to just suck it up and
go dance, but she was still somewhat apprehensive. "I promise I won't
step on your toes or anything." She looked up at him and rolled her
eyes, letting out a little bit of nervous laughter. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit...
just go.

She stood up, glancing momentarily back at the couple
sucking face at the next table. It was going to be a long night. She looked
down at his hand and cracked a smile. Someone was pushing for her to make a
Star Trek joke, respond to his outstretched hand with the fingers separated
oddly with a "Live long and prosper" of her own. Steering clear of
that and never fucking listening to that voice again seemed like a good
idea, though, and she took his hand, letting him lead her out toward the floor.

It shouldn't have been that hard. It was just dancing.
Thousands upon thousands of people did it every freaking day, it had a very low
death rate. The odds of something happening were a lot slimmer than she liked
to think. But it was still scary. Oddly enough, though, the fact that despite
the image inducer, she could still feel Kurt's hand was reassuring. And seeing
him try to dance without the aid of his tail was probably going to be amusing,
too. Okay. She could do this.
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Take Me Out Tonight