Battle of Wills
"I know you enjoy the elements, the wind in your hair and such… but just for this once? Please?"
"Are you begging?"
He growls. "Almost…"
"It's my skin. Have you ever seen a tiger and thought?"
"Please, don't quote Magneto at me!"
She giggles. Mystique has done that before in previous discussions about this particular subject: wearing some clothes. Hank doesn't understand it. He has such nice soft fluffy skin, but he doesn't want to be caught dead in it without wearing his suit.
"I know," she smiles very deviously now, "how about I wear something and you… don't? That would make for a nice change…"
"I've won, haven't I?"
The night of their engagement party is crawling near and many things have been decided. The venue, the guests. All hard decisions to make since their friends don't mix that easily. Hank even has some human friends: a difficult concept to grasp for Mystique. Erik and Charles will both be there and hopefully be polite, even if it's just for one evening. All in all, it promises to be a night to remember, but this one thing is still hanging in the air.
"Please not now Hank, really, I'm not in the mood."
"Okay." He knows when to back down by now. Still, it's an unresolved question and last night he dreamt about an even bigger one. What about their wedding day?
"How about a compromise?" He says.
"What do you have in mind?"
"I could wear only trousers and a tie, and you'd wear a nice dress."
"Or just a skirt?"
"Or a nice dress," he repeats.
"You'd hate only wearing a tie. No shirt, no cufflinks?"
"I'd do it for you." He looks at her with begging eyes. "Please?"
"I'll think about it."
It's the evening of the party. Hank and Mystique continued to quarrel about it until the very last day. Unfortunately Mystique had some unresolved business and couldn't meet him beforehand. Hank has no idea how she will look tonight. They had adjusted the compromise on his end; he was wearing a shirt but with open buttons so the tie would be hanging on his torso. Mystique had given him special cufflinks for this particular evening. They read Beastie Boy and are blue, hairy and horribly kitsch. Hank actually hated them.
Erik and Charles had found each other the minute the party started and Hank had deemed it wise to keep an eye on them. After a while, they gesture for him to join him and so he does. Erik laughs at his clothes and cufflinks and both he and Charles are making bets on Mystique's appearance. What or if she will wear anything and even if she will show up. Hank gnashes his teeth.
Suddenly the music stops and an announcer takes the microphone. "The belle of the party has just arrived and will be here shortly."
The spotlight is aimed at the staircase and Mystique descends the steps like a Queen. He hair looks like it always does, except for a little sparkling blue pin. And her clothes… Is she wearing any?
Hank is peering; it's difficult to see. Mystique is wearing a dress, a beautiful one, with layers of organza in the precise color of her hair and skin. Her top is scaly blue and sparkling and resembles almost exactly the skin underneath.
"Are you satisfied?"
"Yes, I am. Thank you."
"You're very welcome." The both of them kiss amidst the cheers and hoots. Toasts are made and the champagne flows all night long.
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