X-Men belong to Marvel. Charlotte is mine. The
other guest appearances belong to their respective owners, list at
the end. For entertainment only. Feedback worshipped.
Why Stay Home on a Saturday Night?
Charlotte sighed and sat back deeper into the chair in the corner
of her bedroom in the New York apartment, listening to the squeals
coming from the huge walk-in closet (formerly known as the bedroom
next door). You'd think they'd never seen dresses before.
They'd come into the city so Betsy could find a dress to wear to
a formal party. Betsy's exacting tastes and requirements hadn't found
anything she would consider wearing.
Charlotte merely made the observation that designer clothes weren't
the same after the 1950s. Then she had to prove it. With the 1960s
came the end of lush fabrics, flowing designs, and the exquisite detail
only handmade clothing displayed. She'd thrown open her closet and
she hadn't seen the others since, but she certainly heard them.
"Oh, this one is so pretty," Jean's voice floated out.
"Try it on," Rogue encouraged.
"I wish I had a place to wear it."
"What do you think of this one?" Betsy's voice asked.
"Cain't see it too well in here," Rogue answered. "Take
it on out ta the bedroom."
Betsy emerged with a large muslin garment bag over her arm, partially
open to show a spill of black silk taffeta. In a blink of an eye she
was stripped down to bare skin and thong underwear, and had the designer
gown out of its protective cover, lifting it over her head.
Ororo moved over to help her navigate the folds. "It is quite
"It's always been a bit too daring for me," Charlotte said
with a half smile.
Jean considered the high neck bodice of the dress. "Daring?"
Rogue had a back view. "Oh yeah."
The dress had a long fitted bodice with a modest scoop neck. The
back was open, the fabric falling from the the narrow shoulder straps
to a vee just above her buttocks. It left a great deal of smooth bare
skin completely exposed. The skirt fell in silk waves from just below
her hips and swirled around her when she moved.
"I was always afraid it would gap on me," Charlotte explained.
"I ordered it in a moment of insanity."
"I like it," Betsy announced, moving over to the full-length
mirror. She critically examined her reflection from all sides. "May
I borrow it?"
"You can have it. It's just been hanging in there for the last
40 years. I only wore it once and I'm never going to wear it again."
"Ya got a lot a black stuff in there," Rogue commented.
"Black was the color of choice when I bought most of it in the
late 1940s. When I discovered blue jeans, I never looked back. One
of the single most important discoveries of the century." Along
with flush toilets, microwave ovens, and alarm clocks with snooze
buttons. "You should see some of the stuff I had to wear during
the 1700s and 1800s. Long bell skirts, petticoats, stays and girdles
that would pop your eyes out."
"Wish Ah was goin' wi' ya," Rogue said wistfully.
"Why don't you all come? Warren wouldn't mind." Worthington
Enterprises was hosting their annual A-list clientele gala.
"Scott won't go," Jean said. "He doesn't like to dress
"An' Ah don' have a date."
Charlotte snorted. "Do you want to go?"
"No buts. You're living in allegedly the most enlightened era
in history. You can vote, own property, have your own money, make
your own decisions. You can't go to a party without a date?"
"We could, sure," Jean answered, "but we'd feel out
of place without escorts."
"You do hear yourself, don't you?"
"What about you?" Rogue asked. "Logan won' go either."
"No, he won't. Why should that stop me if I want to attend?"
Betsy was still admiring herself in the mirror. "Just ask someone
else. Isn't Hank free, or Bishop?"
The others stopped talking and looked at each other. Just ask someone
"That might be kinda fun and make a point to the fellas,"
Charlotte said thoughtfully. "Hank is a sweetheart, but hardly
the effect you'd want to make." She grinned at Jean and Rogue.
"And any of the men would be tickled if Bishop was an escort.
They'd probably let Bishop take the fall and thank the gods of heaven
and hell you stopped nagging them. I can make a few phone calls. How
would you fancy tall, dark and handsome?"
Rogue turned around and headed back for the closet. "Ah got
ta find me somethin' ta wear."
Scott, Bobby and Remy were in the rec room watching television when
the doorbell rang. After looking at each other, Scott got up to open
the front door.
A tall, dark haired man stood there, a red rose in his hand.
"May I help you with something?" How did he get in through
the gates without setting off the alarms?
"Yes. My name is Duncan MacLeod, I'm here to pick up Rogue for
"Come in." Scott nearly smirked. He'd forgotten Jean mentioned
Rogue and Storm both had dates for Warren's party tonight. Gambit
wasn't going to like this.
"Mac!" a voice called from behind him.
Both men turned towards the feminine voice that accompanied a flash
of light on the front walk.
"Del," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "I
didn't realize you would be attending as well?"
"Charlotte asked me if I wanted to watched the fireworks. Who
could pass up an opportunity like this? So I called up Hank and asked
him out." She turned to Scott. "I don't think you know each
other. Scott Summers, Duncan MacLeod. Mac is an antique dealer specializing
in medieval weaponry."
Scott almost laughed out loud. Bishop wasn't going to be happy, either.
He ushered them into the living room and asked them to make themselves
at home. Del declined, saying she would go on up and check on Charlotte.
Scott excused himself, informing their visitor he would alert Rogue
to his arrival, and made his way back to the rec room. "We've
"No kidding," Bobby said. "That's what it usually
means when the door bell rings. Unless it's the Girl Scouts. Are they
"Rogue's date is here." With that he left Remy with his
"Date?!" the Cajun repeated in disbelief. "When did
she get a date?" He jumped to his feet and left the room.
Bobby laughed and followed. This was gonna be good.
The doorbell rang again. Bobby opened it as he passed by chasing
after Remy. Another man stood there.
"Hi," Bobby smiled. "And who are you here for? You
wouldn't happen to have any Girl Scout cookies, would you?"
The other man laughed politely, giving Bobby a hesitant smile. "No,
sorry. No one told me that was mandatory."
"Not mandatory, but it's a nice gesture."
"I'm Fox Mulder and I have a date this evening with Jean Grey.
Would you tell her I'm here?"
Bobby choked on his tongue, trying to hold back the laughter and
talk at the same time. He waved the new arrival in and pointed towards
the living room. "I'll (snicker) let her know you're here."
With that he burst out laughing and disappeared into another room.
Mulder stepped into the living room to find two other men facing
off from opposite sides. "Hi. I guess we're all here for the
same thing." They both turned towards him. One was clearly hostile,
the other amused. "Is this a bad time?"
"You here to get Rogue?!" the red-headed man sputtered
"No." Mulder wondered briefly if this evening would result
in serious injury. Damn Frohike, anyway. If he hadn't owed the little
hacker rat a huge favor he wouldn't be here now. "Jean Grey."
The other man's face became incredulous, then dissolved into hysterics.
The doorbell rang.
Remy excused himself, sort of, and went to opened the door.
A tall, light-brown haired man turned back around. "Good evening.
I'm Derek Raynes, I'm-"
"Dis way," Remy gasped out, still laughing. Who would this
one be for? He was going to die laughing over this, except when he
planned to injure Rogue's date just enough so even if they did managed
to go out this evening he wouldn't get anywhere with his chere belle.
Derek followed the man to the living room, puzzled but curious. When
Charlotte called to ask him if he would be available to escort one
of her friends to a party he'd been delighted to do a favor for her,
but now he could see where it might not have been such a good idea.
Del swept in, Hank behind her. He was already wearing his image inducer.
"Derek," she smiled and hugged him. "Glad you could
"I'm glad to be here, I think," he hedged, his eyes still
on the laughing Gambit.
She frowned at Remy, then pushed him out of the room. "Go tell
Ororo her date's here," she instructed.
"'Kay, p'tite," he choked out, "but tell me, is an'one
"Mais oui. Charlotte's date isn't here yet."
He burst out with fresh mirth and hurried from the room.
"Do you all know each other?" she asked the gentlemen.
Bishop opened the door on the next ring, gazing down at quiet man,
who looked back at him with calm eyes.
"I am Kwai Chang Caine," he said in an even, measured voice.
"I am here to see Charlotte Ashcroft."
Bishop's eyes narrowed, then he opened the door wider to let the
newcomer in. "You may wait in there," he indicated the room
where the others were waiting.
Rogue made her entrance, feeling especially pretty this evening in
a full length, strapless emerald silk sheath with matching opera length
gloves. "So, which one of y'all is Duncan?" she drawled
out to the room full of handsome men.
"That would be me," Mac stepped forward to take her gloved
hand in his, brushing the back with his lips. "Please call me
Mac." His slightly accented English fell over her ears delightfully.
"I am looking forward to getting to know you better." He
presented her with the rose.
"Me, too, sugah." Rogue's voice ran over them all like
molten caramel. Charlotte's promise of tall, dark and handsome exceeded
her every expectation. "How sweet."
Remy glared at them both from his spot in the background. He wasn't
laughing anymore. How dare she?!
Scott stopped next to him. "We got more?" he asked.
"Oui. One o' dem be Jeannie's date."
Jean chose that moment to enter the living room with Ororo.
Del stepped up to introduce her to her escort for the evening.
"Jean, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder. Fox, Jean Grey."
GREY??!!! The lenses of Scott's glasses steamed over.
"Hello," Mulder said with a smile, pleasantly surprised
by the gorgeous redhead. He did have a weakness for flame-haired
ladies. He kissed her hand. "You look lovely this evening."
"Thank you," Jean answered. The black designer gown, with
its wide, off-the-shoulder ruff and calf length gauzy handkerchief
skirt hadn't been her first choice, but Betsy pointed out the black
silk set her skin off to its best advantage and her shoulders were
one of her best features, along with her eyes and hair. Jean had to
agree when she saw her finished self in the mirror.
"Ororo, I don't think you've met Dr. Derek Raynes." Del
continued with her introductions. "He heads the Luna Foundation."
"No, I have not had the pleasure. Good evening, Doctor."
"Enchanted," Derek answered. "Please call me Derek."
He, too, kissed her hand, then tucked it into the crook of his arm.
Ororo gave him her elegant smile. "Derek," she repeated.
The sapphire blue gown she wore complimented her hair and eyes perfectly,
the floaty silk cut enhanced her lean figure and full curves.
Charlotte made her way into the room, Logan a silent figure behind
her. "Caine," she greeted him and hugged the Shaolin priest
tightly. "It has been too long."
Logan leaned up against a wall out of the way.
"Yes," he returned her embrace. "You have not changed
at all. He above still smiles upon you."
"You say that every time."
"It is true every time. You are very lovely this evening."
"You are still a flatterer, after all these decades." She
glittered in a dark gold silk slip dress that emphasized the golden-amber
of her eyes, the side slits tied along its length with silk thread
every four inches. Bare skin peeked out when she moved. "Has
everyone been introduced?"
Del nodded at her. "I made sure everyone met." <Along
with titles and occupations.>
Charlotte gave her granddaughter the barest suggestion of a wink.
"Our chariot awaits," Hank announced, taking Del's hand
under his arm, earning himself a glare from Bishop. "We should
be leaving if we are to enjoy every moment of the evening's festivities."
As they filed out, the men watching silently, Hank's voice could
still be heard. "Charlotte introduced me to the most wonderful
place for jazz. If the evening is less than we hope for, perhaps a
visit there will restore our spirits."
Scott finally found his voice. "What the hell was that all about?"
They stood out on the front steps watching the party leave the gates.
"I doan' know, homme," Remy answered in a subdued voice.
Rogue hadn't even looked back when the limousine pulled away, his
amusement of Scott's dilemma gone in the wake of Rogue leaving him
"It means the girls ain' girls," Logan lit a cigar. "They're
women an' they want to be treated like women. Takin' 'em on real dates
an' sendin' flowers an' sometimes goin' to places we don' want to
go. They want to be 'preciated, 'cause if we don' there'll be plenty
o' others who will."
"How come you're not mad?" Scott asked him. "I don't
notice you doing any of that." Just because he didn't want to
go didn't mean Jean had to get a date and use her maiden name like
she was still single.
"Why get mad when I can get even?" Not that he'd really
get even with Charlotte. She'd told him exactly where she was going
tonight, who she was going with and why they were all doing this.
If she'd really wanted him to go, she knew how to get his agreement.
There wasn't much he could refuse her.
On the other hand, he did have some revenge for his sweet, scheming
wife. She didn't have to wear that dress. She never wore it for him.
That dress was gonna end up as some very expensive rags when she got
home. He'd make it as painless as possible for the darlin'. She'd
only moan a lot, and maybe scream some, too.
"Gettin' even, huh?" Remy said thoughtfully. That had possibilities.
Fox Mulder belongs to Chris Carter
and 1013 Productions.
Derek Raynes belongs to MGM / Showtime / Trilogy.
Duncan MacLeod belongs to Rysher, Panzer/Davis.
Kwai Chang Caine belongs to Warner Brothers.
Planning a companion piece for this, with the guys getting dates.
If you have any idea on who each one might get paired with, be it
silly or not, let me know. I'm not much of a prime time TV watcher
anymore since my work schedule changed, and I could use the suggestions!
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