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.
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
"Try it on," Rogue encouraged.
"I wish I had a place to wear it."
"What do you think of this one?" Betsy's voice
"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 lovely."
"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
"Scott won't go," Jean said, "he doesn't like
to dress up."
"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
"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'
"No, he won't. Why should that stop me if I want to
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 else?
"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 this evening."
"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
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 got company."
"No kidding," Bobby said. "That's what it
usually means when the door bell rings. Unless it's the Girl
Scouts. Are they selling cookies?"
"Rogue's date is here." With that he left Remy
with his mouth open.
"Date?!" the Cajun repeated in disbelief. "When
did she get a date?" He jumped to his feet and left the
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
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
"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
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
"Derek," she smiled and hugged him. "Glad
you could make it."
"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 else comin'?"
"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
"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
"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
"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
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
They stood out on the front steps watching the party leave
"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 behind.
"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
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
Fox Mulder belongs to Chris Carter and
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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