Behaving Badly

Diclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I receive no financial gain from it.


This is the first in a series of vignettes that touch on the more human side of heroes. The dark side. Let's face it, nice people don't always do nice things. Life isn't happy and fuzzy, not even if you're a rabbit. Especially if you're a rabbit, cause you're destined to be a tasty snack for someone bigger. So read if you like, and if I have offended by bringing out the bad side of a character you think is above such behavior, just take a few minutes to think about this….everyone has limits.

Kurt wrapped his hand around his glass of beer and stared into it. He often came to this particular bar because of its distance from Bayville and everything related to his life. He never invited anyone to come with him, and he never told anyone where he'd been. It was his private getaway. The bar wasn't much, but he liked the bartender and his regular waitress. *Especially* the waitress. It was close to a college in upstate New York so young people, like himself, weren't rare. On weekdays, it was empty, but on weekends it was bursting. Such was the way with pubs. He preferred to go there on Wednesdays when it was less crowded and he had a chance of getting his food in a decent time frame. This week, however, he'd been unable to get away until Friday night. He had another reason for coming tonight. He was looking for someone.


Kurt sat with his warm beer and cold fries watching the crowd around him. He sat at a booth in the back. It was late, most of the crowd had thinned and last call was looming close. He spotted some of the regulars and one, in particular, for whom he had been waiting. The young man was in his early twenties with blonde hair, blue eyes, and too much gel in his hair. He'd been in there every weekend and left with a different girl each time. He always bought them a beer and waited till they were staggering before offering them a ride home.


Kurt had his suspicions about the man's methods of persuasion, particularly since he rarely bought more than one beer for the lady in his company. The mutant's reasons for watching him were partly selfish. True, if the man was slipping a Mickey into drinks to make his 'dates' more manageable, it was despicable, not to mention illegal. It would also reflect badly on the bar. If word were to leak out that people had their drinks spiked when they went there and if the bar received bad enough press, they might have to close. If they closed, he would have to find another place to go. And he didn't want to find another place. He liked this place.


Kurt was watching his target when he heard a familiar voice. Flouncing into the bar was a young woman he knew. Her name was Melanie and she'd attended Bayville High School with him. She'd been a cheerleader and had most of the boys panting after her. She'd been a royal bitch, then. She'd had money and popularity and followers willing to emulate her every taste. She didn't appear to be any less obnoxious now. She swung herself onto a barstool and Kurt saw Mickey, the nickname he'd given the blonde man, approach her and help her to seat herself. ignoignored him at first, then she ordered a beer and he paid for it. Kurt leaned forward out of the shadows and watched closely.


When the bartender delivered the beer, Mickey made his move. It was subtle and practiced. He had the pill in his palm and picked up the glass by placing his hand over the top and gripping the rim with his fingers. The pill would just drop into the glass while his hand covered it. He slid it over to her and leaned forward, whispering in her ear. She gave him a coy smile and began drinking the beer. Kurt got up when she was about halfway through and made his way through the waning crowd to where she sat. He didn't like her very much, he never had, but he'd interfere and chalk it up to old times' sake. He reached out a hand and wound up with a handful, of Melanie. She'd fallen off the back of the stool and he found himself trying to pull her to her feet.


"Hey, thanks, man." She slurred at him when he set her on her feet.


"It vas nothing." He said, automatically. She turned and looked at him, squinting through her alcohol and drug induced haze. He wore his image inducer, and the holographic projection showed an older man than she'd seen since they'd graduated a few years earlier, but she recognized him.


"Holy shit." She squealed, jerking her arm away from him and lurching, unsteadily into Mickey. He caught her and kept his arm around her shoulders. "It's Wagner from Bayville." Her eyes glittered with predatory pleasure and she smiled at him showing all of her perfect, white teeth.


"Hello, Melanie." He said, keeping his voice down. "Having a good time?" Mickey was eyeing him suspiciously. Kurt wondered if he'd have to drag the girl out of the bar or if he could convince her that she'd been drugged without making a scene. Melanie spoke again, this time, loudly, and with an expression of exaggerated shock.


"I didn't know that this was a *Mutie* bar." Her words caused a few of the patrons closest to them stop their conversations and look his way. "Did you bring your other mutant friends with you? Like that freaky gothic bitch, or perfect little Kitty Pryde." She nudged Mickey clumsily and continued. "Did you know that this guy went to my high school and he lived in a big house full of mutants?" The bartender waskingking at him with an expression of distaste. So was the waitress, both of them had waited on him countless times in the past and had been friendly and outgoing. *Especially* the waitress.


"Melanie-" He began, then she laughed in his face, wet and loud. Her moist breath washed over him, and he struggled to hide his distaste for her. She'd just torn down his private sanctuary. He'd never be able to come here without worg thg that someone had spit in his beer, or worse. Maybe they wouldn't serve him at all. So much for trying to help a person, he thought.


"Fucking freak." She said in an ugly voice.


Kurt looked her up and down, taking in her stained shirt and muddy knees, doubtless from falling on her walk over here. Mickey was a big guy, and now he'd be backed up by an angry mob no matter what Kurt did. Somehow, the decision wasn't difficult to make. He told himself that Melanie's actions had decided her own fate. He smiled back at her.


"Enjoy your beer." Then he looked at Mickey. "You, just…. enjoy." He gestured to Melanie, then he turned on his heel and walked from the bar for the last time. He wouldn't go back there again. If he decided to take Mickey down, it wouldn't be on the man's own turf, and it wouldn't be tonight. He simply couldn't make himself care about what happened to Melanie. If she remembered anything at all, he hoped she remembered that she'd behaved badly.