Kurt and Jean: Come On, Vogue (Backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

While shopping with Jean for a gift for Monet in District X, Kurt gets an admirer with a grand sense of fashion.




Jean had heard someone refer to District X as "New York's Venice Beach" and in some ways she definitely saw that. The brave weren't afraid to be themselves on its streets.

She walked with Kurt as they traversed the rows of quirky shops and businesses advising accessories unique for mutants in its windows: Makeshift mannequins wearing a pair of jeans with a hole cut out for a tail, one wearing shirt with multiple arm holes, heat or cold resistant gloves and clothing, shampoo for people with full body hair (with dandruff control), a crush resistant alarm clock.

In this little slice of America, businesses were evolving to meet the needs of their target demographic.

"How about that?" Jean said, pointing to the alarm clock displayed in an electronics store window.

"That might be good", he said, considering it. "She broke the last three when she was not properly awake. And that is assuming she did not replace any I do not know about."

The thought of various doomed alarm clocks getting smashed to pieces was amusing to Jean, prompting comparison to cartoons where animated mice and cats smashed them with mallets.

"They also have an alarm clock that is on wheels and rolls around the room, forcing you to chase after it to turn it off. I thought about buying it for Betsy once for her birthday and claiming it be from Haller," she said.

Kurt grinned. "Perhaps you should send her one even now, wherever she is these days. The distance would probably keep you safe from retribution."

Jean shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of in the mood for a decent catfight," she mused with a wry smile. It'd been a long time since she'd gotten to rear her claws against a worthy opponent who wasn't a teenage boy or a Frenchman with a complex.

"Clearly you have not been visiting the right bars", he said innocently. "Or behaving far too well when you do."

"Didn't you know? I'm a saint," Jean shot back, grinning. She bat her eyelashes at him.

"Says so on my business card. I never get in trouble when I drink. Ever."

"Of course not", he agreed easily. "And there have never been any posts on the staff community suggesting otherwise."

Jean blinked at him owlishly. "What?" she said, putting her hand to her chest.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Nor", he continued", grin turning wicked, "have there ever been any rumours about photographs Kyle may have had available to the highest bidder."

Slipping her hands into her pockets, Jean tilted her head thoughtfully. "How attached are you to this Kyle fellow? He may be disappearing soon."

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "I think we would soon regret losing our handyman."

"Oh, we could get a new one," Jean said, waving the thought away with her hand. "I'm sure there are dozens of ambi dexterous people running around."

"Perhaps." He smiled brightly. "I am quite good at repairs myself."

Jean gave a quick, sealing nod. "You're hired, then," she said, extending her hand for a shake.

Kurt shook it, laughing. "Many thanks for the consideration."

"Of course you know---" Jean said, glancing at him seriously. "--by being hired makes you an accomplice. You'll have to keep look out for me. Making people disappear is no easy task."

Pausing, she glanced up to a store that appeared to have a number of useful items in its window.

"How about this store?"

It looked like something that Monet might've liked--high end, but hopefully not too painful to the wallet.

Kurt glanced that way and brightened. "I have actually seen this place before, but never gone inside. I think we should have a closer look."

Jean nodded. "A capital idea," she said with a smile as she started for the door.

"I thought Monet's birthday was in February?"

He shrugged. "It is, and our anniversary is in January. Sometimes I just like to buy her things."

The notion made Jean smile. "She's lucky to have you and all your romantic ways," she said, holding open the door for him.

"It makes her laugh", he said with a smile in return as he stepped into the store. "Sometimes, perhaps, I am a little old-fashioned that way. But she likes it, I think."

"It's a good surprise," Jean said as she trailed behind him, glancing around the room.

She was immediately struck by the smell of coconut, an attempt to make things more 'homey.' The store was decidedly not a chain store, and had a hodge podge of clothing, home goods, and accessories. The small space, combined with the variety of items, made the area appear overflowing, though some attempts had been made at organization to keep order.

"Do you want to stick to the alarm clock idea or do you want to try something else?"

"I think I would like to see what we find here", he decided. "The alarm clock would be fine if we find nothing that suits, but the things here seem more likely to be unique."

"Like...." Jean picked up a pair of pants that apparently had no sort of cloth whatsoever around the nether regions. She paused a moment before immediately trying to hide a snicker with her hand.

Kurt stared at them, then raised an eyebrow. "Not for wearing in public."

"The sad thing is, someone had to have bought these before for there to be a stock of them....I'm a little horrified," Jean said as she finally let herself laugh a little louder.

"It would suggest they are a good seller", he agreed, wandering over for a closer look. "Though I really cannot imagine why."

Jean squinted, tilting her head. "Maybe you layer them over something else? I--"

An excited scream suddenly reverberated through the air, followed by a: "Oh, MY, GOD! You are SO beautiful!" a voice said as a very well dressed man made a beeline for them.

"Do you have any idea? I mean....just gorgeous," the man said as he stopped between the two of them.

Kurt blinked at him, then shot an amused look past the newcomer at Jean. "Phoenix, I do believe you have a new admirer."

It was the man's turn to look at Kurt quizzically. "What? Oh nonononono, I'm talking about YOU! My God, do you know what a fantastic shade of blue that is?" he said.

He pulled a card out of his jacket and held it out.

"Spencer James. How would you be interested in being the main model in my flagship clothing line for mutants? I call it....Level. As in power level times ten," he said, waving his hand like he were showing it on a billboard across the street.

"I, um... no?" Kurt said with a bit of a stammer, starting to turn faintly purple, then waved his hand. "Not to the modelling, to the blue. I... would have to think about the modelling, I do not travel much..."

"Is that an accent? Oh that is fabulous. What is that? Austria? Germany? We may have to have you speak in an online commercial campaign. Small market at first...you know how those intolerant idiot animals are," Spencer said, making a face. He dangled the card up and down.

"Please, take my card. What is your name? Please tell me its exotic like your friend's name here..."

He bit his thumb, looking Kurt over.

"I would love to make a dress that color as well. One of my girls, she has a light shade of orange skin...it would just look phenomenal. Oh my I'm running out of adjectives for beautiful here I'm just so floored."

"Germany", Kurt told him, accepting the card with some bemusement. "And some call me Nightcrawler, though my real name is Kurt. I suppose, if you really think I would help your business..."

"Of course it would!" Spencer said. "Your demographic has the highest untapped market gain potential for fashion in YEARS."

"How do you feel about making your model name....Kurt Nightcrawler?" he said. The moment it left his mouth however it paused.

"Hmm, too exotic entertainer. Ah, we'll think of something. Absolutely. Just give me a call and we can get you set up for a fitting. I have a few ideas for some outfits you would look great in," he said, sizing him up.

"All right." Kurt was still a little taken aback, clearly, but coming around to the idea. "I am sure we can find a convenient time."

"We?" Spencer said, then brightened. "Do you know others? That would fantastic!"

He hadn't really much assumed his friend was a mutant, too focused on his obsession with the blue shade of his newest potential model. Besides, her look wasn't what he was going for. She was too mainstream.

"Well, I meant you and I, but I do know several other visible mutants", he said cautiously. "I could always copy your card for some of them."

"That's a great idea! Yes...please do," Spencer said, clasping his hands around his. He was very touchy feely.

"Well, I'd best let you get back to your shopping. I'll be at the cash register if you need anything."

"You own the store?" Kurt asked curiously. "Then perhaps you can help. We were looking for a present for my girlfriend."

"Technically, I own three. This one is a bit of an experiment to help cater to the people who buy from the Level line," Spencer said, looking somewhat disappointed when he said the word 'girlfriend' before moving right along.

"What does your girlfriend like? Our store primarily specializes in mutant-centric outfits and accessories."

"She likes to look perfect at all times", he said with a wryly affectionate smile. "She is super-strong, invulnerable and can fly, so perhaps something... resilient."

Spencer tapped his chin. "My, I like this girl already. Let's see...we have...a couple of shirts made of a special weave that can withstand heat and friction...I made it for a pretty young thing who's clothing kept catching on fire when she got all flustered. That might work to a point. Does she have wings?"

"No wings, more levitation", Kurt told him. "And now you mention this special weave, I can think of more than one person who might be interested in such a thing. I will point them your way."

Spencer nodded. "It's not cheap, I must say. I have it patented because it costs so much to make. But no wings? Ah, I had a shirt that would be perfect for that. That one guy...Worthington? Totally inspired."

"Warren Worthington?" Kurt asked with a grin. "Would you believe Phoenix here has known him since their schooldays?"

Jean tilted her head as she suddenly became the focus of that part of the conversation and smiled, giving him a bit of a wave.

"Really?" Spencer said, putting his hand to his chest. He suddenly dashed across the room, returning with a rather sharp looking, well tailored button up white dress shirt with subtle blue-grey pinstripes, a pair of holes in the back just the right size for wings.

"Give this to him. I MUST see him wear it," he said, shoving it into Jean's arms, then flinched.

"Wait!" he said, tucking a card into the shirt pocket before stepping back with a smile. "There."

Jean blinked. "For free? Are you sure?" she said.

Spencer grinned. "God yes! People see him wearing one of my shirts around here? They'll be coming in droves."

Falling silent a moment, Jean finally nodded. That was what she was afraid of, for the wrong reasons.

"How...do you know what size he wears?"

Shaking his head, Spencer laughed. "Oh, trust me sugar, I have my ways."

"He is often in the papers", Kurt put in. "Perhaps it would not be so hard to judge from that." Or maybe Spencer had found the right people to talk to.

"Oh please, I went to the Fashion Institute. We got graded on being able to tell what size a person wears," Spencer said, wagging his eyebrows.

"As for your girl lady friend..."

He glanced around the room, then plucked a pair of sunglasses off a model.

"These are made of a special alloy that we also use in our alarm clocks. It is practically shatter resistant...to an extent. It takes 4 tons of pressure. Now, if your girlfriend happens to run into someone who can bench that...no promises, sorry. I'm the God of Fashion, not the God of Danger."

"Very nice", Kurt said, admiring them. "I will take these, then, and one of the alarm clocks as well. Why not?"

Spencer grinned at Kurt. "Brilliant. That'll be $375.00," he said.

"Credit or check?"

Jean nearly choked, and she hadn't even had anything to drink.

Kurt, oddly, didn't even flinch. "Worry not, Phoenix, I have resources. Check, I think, Spencer."

Spencer peered at Jean a moment before looking back to Kurt with a smile of satisfaction and pleasure.

"I knew I liked you," he said, taking the two items to ring up.

~Resources?~ Jean asked Kurt mentally with a curious look.

He grinned with a touch of satisfaction himself and replied the same way. ~With the help of Emma Frost and an honest bank clerk in Andorra, my father found himself both being investigated by the tax authorities and missing a large chunk of his money.~

The idea of Emma doing shady things, even if they resulted in mostly good things as an end result and were pretty much what she did all day every day, didn't quite sit right with Jean, but Kurt was happy, so she tried not to think too much about it.

She smiled. ~Well, that was awfully nice of her. I think Monet'll be happy with her new indestructible gifts. ~

~I hope so~, Kurt returned cheerfully, digging in his pocket for his chequebook and a pen when he noticed that Spencer was waiting.

Spencer had been trying to be nonchalant but his curiosity was roused by the two people just staring at once another, and he occasionally peered at them while rearranging a stack of wallets on the counter.

"Are we ready?" he said with a smile.

"I believe we are", Kurt answered, smiling back. He didn't explain what had been going on - even in District X, admitting to telepathy was Jean's choice to make.

Telepathy often made people antsy, so Jean usually kept things to herself unless it became too much of a problem. A lot of people passed it off with one excuse or another, not anticipating it unless they were familiar with other telepaths, and she was apt to let them.

"Well then, that'll be $391.87," Spencer said. The added amount was for sales tax, an unfortunate necessity.

Kurt nodded and set his chequebook down on the counter, leaning over it to fill it out.

Spencer looked him over appreciatively.

"You...wouldn't happen to have a brother who has that delightful hue, would you?"

Kurt chuckled. "Sadly not. My only brother is adopted. And married."

Spencer let out a wistful sigh. "Ah well, c'est la vie. There are plenty of multi-colored fish in the city, I suppose."

"Especially in this part of the city", he agreed, tearing off the cheque and handing it over. "I will call you soon about the modeling. And as I promised, tell people about your heat-resistant fabric."

Spencer clapped his hands together then grinned as he took the check. "Wonderful. Well...thank you very much for stopping by. Please do so often," he said as he handed Kurt his bags, decked out in a stylish matte metallic paper.

"I think it very likely that I will", was the easy response.

"Excellent," Spencer said, wagging his eyebrows. The grin remained.

"Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."