Disclaimer: If any of you think I own any of this, you're seriously dreaming.

Author's Note: Hey all! I know it's been a very long time since I've written anything… so here I am again! Don't know where this came from, but I wrote it and I really, really hope you enjoy it. Also, as a fan fiction writer and fellow reader/reviewer myself, please leave me a review. I have nothing better to do with my other than homework and reading a review completely makes my day!! I won't tolerate flames. Comments, however, such as whether you liked it or not and constructive criticism are gladly accepted!

Dark and Stormy Nights

By: pinkchick

"It was a dark and stormy night when—"

"Vhy does it alvays have to start out that vay?"

"Kurt, shut up. I'm trying to tell a story here."

"Must not be very good if that's how eet starts."

"Do you wanna hear this or not?"

"Well, vhy don't ve do something else, like—"

"—lahke havin' Danger Room sessions? Ah don't think so."

"Ok, ok. Just pretend I didn't say anything."

"Thank you. Ok. Now, where was I?"

"You vere at ze 'dark and stormy night' part."

"Kurt, it was a rhetorical question."

"Right, sorry!"

"It was a dark and stormy night when there—"

"I just don't understand vhy it alvays has to start that vay, you know?"

"Kurt!"

"Vat?"

"That's just the way the story starts, ok. Can we, like, please get on with it?"

"Kurt?"

"Alright, alright."

"Ok, it was a dark and stormy night when there was a sudden—"

"But, aren't there any other stories zat don't start vith ze usual?"

"KURT!"

Scott Summers sighed, slumped in his chair at the front of the living room, and turned off the flashlight he was holding up to his face. He nudged Jean Grey beside him to turn on the lights and the first thing his red tinted ruby quartz glasses saw were many pillows being thrown at the resident furry, blue elf, Kurt Wagner. Also known as 'the boy who wouldn't shut up when someone was obviously trying to tell a story'. There was a chorus of groans as the students of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters continued to complain about the ruined story and throw their pillows at Kurt, who immediately drew back in fear and hid behind Kitty Pryde for protection.

As everyone was busy with Kurt, Jean leaned into Scott's ear. "Great, now what're we gonna do?"

"I can think of a lot of things just the two of us can do, and it doesn't involve telling scary stories," Scott replied smoothly.

Jean's blush was as red as the hair that now tickled Scott's face. Scott smiled at her and Jean shyly smiled back before they turned back around to see that all of their fellow students were staring at them in curiosity, while Kitty's eyes lit up like they usually did when she found something juicy to talk about.

"Oooohh," everyone chorused.

Jean hid her face in Scott's chest. It was embarrassing when everyone in the mansion, literally speaking, wanted to know everything there was to know about their newfound relationship.

"Don't you all have lives?" Scott asked.

"No, why do you think we're, like, in here listening to a story?" Kitty answered.

"Good point."

"Thank you." Kitty smiled. Her smile disappeared when Kurt was still attempting to hide from the pillows Jamie's multiples were throwing at him. "Kurt! Urgh, this is all, like, your fault."

Everyone had been excited to hear the story because they had gotten stuck inside on a Halloween night when they all desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Logan had given them their daily Danger Room session, which had been longer than usual. The weather was terrible outside. It had been drizzling all day and now there was a downpour, accompanied by lightning and thunder. Scott did not even know how they had coaxed him into telling the story to begin with. Perhaps it was boredom, he didn't know. So now, here they were, the entire student body at the Xavier mansion, with nowhere to go.

"How eez this my fault?" Kurt asked innocently. Everyone glared at him. "Vat, vat's wrong?"

"You ruined the story, you idiot!" Bobby Drake answered, rolling his eyes.

"No, Scott can still finish it," Kurt informed them. He received further eye rolls and a scathing look from his half-sister, Rogue.

"No, Dodo, he can't," Rogue piped up, her Southern accent dripping with annoyance. "Tha mood's ruined."

"Aw, c'mon, one more try. I svear no more talking," Kurt supplied, holding his blue, three-fingered hand up in a salute. Everyone just stared at him, then stared at each other. "Vat? You don't trust me?"

"No," everyone answered, as though the answer were obvious to Kurt.

"Fine." Kurt crossed his arms, faking anger. Then, his eyes brightened and he knee walked over to Rogue. "Rogue, shwester, you'll vouch for my trust, right?"

"Kurt, it's not that Ah don't trust ya," Rogue offered, "it's just that ya have a big mouth and ya obviously don't know when ta shut it."

"Please!" Kurt begged. "Not a sound," he promised.

"Swear on your aunt's head," Kitty said, turning to him.

"Vat?" Kurt looked perplexed.

"Swear on your aunt's head," Kitty repeated.

"But I don't have an aunt," Kurt pointed out.

"You don't know that!"

"Really, I don't!"

"Just. Do it," Scott gritted, interrupting the two. His patience was wearing very thin at this point.

"Alright, alright." Kurt put up his hands in defense. Then, like a boy scout, he raised his hand. "I swear on the head of my aunt."

"No, I said your aunt's head, not the head of your aunt," Kitty argued. Everyone's heads snapped in the direction of Kitty. Rogue continued rolling her eyes.

"It's the same thing," Kurt retorted. The heads moved in Kurt's direction.

"No, it's not!" Back.

"Yes, it—" Forth.

"Guys!" Scott shouted. The students' heads stopped moving between Kitty and Kurt. "Stop. Let's just get on with it."

"I told you it's the same thing," Kurt snapped at Kitty.

Kitty glared. "Shut up!"

"Somebody turn off the lights," Scott commanded.

"Actually, c-could we keep the lights on?" Jamie, the youngest of the group, asked.

"Yeah, that would be a very good idea," Amara added.

"Yeah, ok." Scott sighed and turned on the flashlight, holding it up to his face. All eyes turned their attention towards him. "It was a dark and stormy night when all of a sudden there was a tapping at the window."

Scott paused for effect and looked around at every one of them, his mouth a line.

Scott was about to open his mouth to continue when there was a sudden tapping at the window. Everyone jumped and turned around, but all they could see on the window was the rain slapping the glass.

"Just ignore that," Scott encouraged. "It was probably just the rain."

"Yeah, sure," Jamie shivered.

"Anyway, there was a tapping at the window." Scott's voice had resumed it's eeriness. "There had been a murder that night. A man with three knives—"

"Hey, that sounds a lot like—"

Scott glared at Kurt, and he shut his mouth. Scott cleared his throat. "A man with three knives as his weapon had escaped prison with the thought of one thing and one thing only."

Scott paused again and tilted the flashlight so there were more shadows on his face. "Revenge."

The thunder cackled and rumbled outside. Lightning flashed and sparked. The lights in the living room flickered for a moment before finally going out. The room was etched in complete darkness.

There were mixed shouts and groans coming from the dark room.

"Great, just great," Jean muttered next to Scott. "This is turning out to be one hell of a night."

"Tell me about it," Scott mumbled. He tore the flashlight from his face and pointed it in the general direction of the students. "Everyone ok?"

"Yeah, all fine," Bobby responded.

"That's good." Scott got up and went over to the electrical box at the end of the room. He scanned the fuses and sighed. He jumped back abruptly when Kurt bamfed behind him. Scott groaned.

"So, Scott, how are you gonna fix them vhen there're so many colors? So, vhich vun do ve choose, the red, green, or blue?" Kurt asked, attempting to see what Scott was looking at.

"Red," Scott replied, frustrated. "Kurt, that's the only color I see, remember?"

"Oh, right!" Kurt looked down sheepishly and tried to hide from the flashlight. "But, uh, how are you going to fix eet?"

Scott sighed. Why did strange things always have to happen while someone was telling a scary story? "The problem's not from in here. The wires were probably struck by lightning or something."

There were more groans as Scott and Kurt made their way back to the common area. Scott sat down next to Jean with the help of his flashlight. "So everyone," Jean addressed the students, "I guess we'll have to finish the story in the dark."

To both Scott's and Jean's surprise, there were cheers across the room.

"Ok already, settle down," Rogue commanded through the darkness. "Mah God, this ruckus is enough ta give a gal a headache."

Scott smiled and returned the flashlight to his face.

"Are you sure you can't do anything about the lights?" Jamie inquired.

"Sorry, Jamie," Scott apologized. "There's nothing to be scared about, ok."

"O-ok," Jamie stuttered.

Scott cleared his throat. "Now, where was I?"

"You vere—" Kurt started, but then thought better of it. "Right, rhetorical qvestion. Sorry."

"This man with three knives had been in prison for a very long time. Fifteen years." Scott paused and focused the flashlight so there were eerie shadows dancing across his face. "Fifteen years of hoping and waiting until the time would come. The time to break free and seek what was rightfully his. His freedom." A pause. "And, most importantly, his life."

A slight shiver ran through everyone as they sat and listened to Scott intently.

"Vell, maybe zis story isn't so bad after all, eh?" Kurt supplied.

Everyone rolled their eyes at Kurt but since it was dark he couldn't see them, so he just smiled.

Scott shook his head and Jean hid her laugh behind her mouth to keep her from laughing out loud. Scott cleared his throat and everyone's attention returned to his flash lit face.

"Wait," Kitty said. "What'd he do to, like, end up in jail?"

"Well," Scott's voice dropped an octave. "Rumor had it that this mysterious man went to prison because he had committed a murder. A murder to top all murders."

"Who did he murder?" Kurt asked, leaning forward. Rogue smacked him on the back of his head. "Ouch! Vhat vas that for?"

"That was fer interruptin', doofus," Rogue explained. "Can't ya tell he was just gettin' ta that part of tha story?"

Kurt looked sheepish. Scott cleared his throat for the umpteenth time that evening. He was eyeing Kurt – although no one could see him doing it – through the flashlight, when it suddenly went dead.

"Oh, for the love of—" Scott sighed. This night was really turning out to be bad.

"Why can't we just, like, finish this story before all the lights to go out?" Kitty asked, frankly annoyed.

There were echoed grumblings across the room and Scott sat back against his seat and rested his head against the wall. He almost flinched when he felt a warm breath coming from beside him and whispering in his ear.

"This is pathetic," Jean whispered.

"You could say that again," Scott grumbled.

"Say vat again?" Kurt asked, perking and trying to see who Scott was talking to in the dark.

"Nothing," Jean mumbled and gave a resigned sigh.

"Oh, I see," Kurt said. Scott raised an eyebrow and Jean leaned forward. Even though they could not see Kurt in the dark, his tone had an amused tinge to it.

"You see what? There's nothing to see," Bobby proclaimed, exasperated at Kurt and his mysterious musings.

"No, that's not vat I meant," Kurt sounded annoyed. "You people play me for a complete dunderhead. I'll have you know I can be qvuite intellectual."

Bobby snorted and Scott tried not to smile. That is, he tried. It was hard to be friends with someone like Kurt and not smile, or laugh, at something he said.

"We play you for a what, now?" Jean asked, amused.

"A dunderhead."

There was more laughter as Kurt tried to look crossly at them. However, since said cross look could not be seen, he failed miserably.

"Ok, dunderhead," Rogue broke in, "enlighten us."

Kurt cleared his throat. Through the darkness he gazed in Scott and Jean's general direction, opened his mouth to say something and then quickly shut it. There was silence for a moment and then, "Vell, because blue is such an entrancing color, like myself, eet is said that blue is used to keep evil avay." Everyone was silent. "Mhmm. Eet's true."

"If that's true, then why do the Brotherhood and Magneto keep coming after us?" Bobby teased.

The room broke out in laughter.

"Not funny," Kurt interjected. "Being blue has nothing to do vith it."

"Yeah, sure." Bobby laughed. "Kurt, the protector of all evil!"

"Shut up!" Kurt snapped. "Your laughter is very insulting."

"Enough!" Scott exclaimed. The room went quiet.

"It is an ancient belief," Kurt mumbled, sounding put out.

Scott glanced towards his general direction and felt a wave of sympathy for his friend. For the umpteenth time that night, Scott sighed. To think he gave up a night with Jean for this was unbelievable. He did not even know how the night went from the telling of a story to the telling of a belief.

"Uh," Bobby started, seeming to feel he had hurt Kurt's feelings. "I'm sorry, man. Really."

"Forget about eet," Kurt replied.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably. "Well, look at it this way," Rogue offered. "At least tha color blue matches with a lot of things. Although, Kurt wouldn't look good with a blue fur coat on."

Kitty laughed. "Yeah, that would be like fashion suicide."

"Aww, thanks for looking out for my fashion sense, Keety." Kurt smiled.

The room laughed and Scott could not help but smile as the tension of the earlier conversation was lifted. When the laughter stopped, Jean nudged him. "So, are we gonna finish the story?"

"Yeah, come on!" Bobby encouraged.

"Do we r-really think that's a g-good idea with no lights on?" Jamie asked.

"I second that!" Amara concurred.

"You're all such babies," Bobby commented, sounding annoyed.

"We are not!" Amara snapped. "We're just cautious, right Jamie?"

"Mhmm."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Shut up mister 'I'm not a coward'," Amara shot back.

"I'm not a coward!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Amara said, throwing back Bobby's words.

"Guys," Scott interjected. They continued bickering, loudly, while Scott continued trying to placate all of them, but unfortunately to no avail. Eventually, everyone joined into Bobby and Amara's fight as the room grew louder with the voices of the students. Scott sat back and inched closer to Jean as he gave up trying to break up his friends, that is, until said loud bickering became a violent dark-roomed squabble. Pillows flew back and forth throughout the darkened room. He did not know who said what to whom, but Scott was pretty sure he heard a threat having to do with fur, Rogue's skin, and paint. "GUYS!"

The room became silent. Scott was relieved he could finally say something when the relief immediately washed away to be replaced by the feeling of being squarely hit in the face with a pillow. The students, although it being dark, heard the pillow's impact and did not need to see the leader of the X-men's face to know he was glaring at each and every one of them. Or rather, glaring in their general direction.

The room was absolutely silent. So silent the rain felt as though it were pounding on the inside of the mansion. An utterance, however, broke the deafening silence.

"Um… sorry," Bobby apologized.

"That's it!" Scott fumed, standing up. "This is absolutely ridiculous. You guys can't sit one moment without causing some sort of uproar or going at each other and then, to make matters worse, we're all cooped up in here like birds with me trying to tell a story you wanted me to start and have been, in no way, able to finish."

Silence.

"Uh, heh… sorry?" Bobby feebly attempted once more.

"I give up!" Scott sank down, defeated. "I don't even know why I'm wasting my time. Just forget it."

"Aw, come on," Bobby offered. "You tell the story and we promise not to say anything."

"Yeah, like, not a word," Kitty added.

"And you'll all stay silent?" Scott asked.

"As the grave," Kitty promised.

Scott heaved a sigh and turned to look at Jean, or what he could see of Jean. Scott saw her shake her head and shrug, muttering a "How bad could it be?". It was not as if Scott did not like his fellow students. However, he felt there was a fine line between doing favors out of sheer boredom and madness. This situation had easily crossed that line. He gazed towards the students' direction and could have sworn he saw the outline of Kitty's protruding lip; a pout, he assumed without a doubt.

"Oh alright, fine." Scott finally gave in. "But if I hear a peep—" He peered over to where he knew Kurt was sitting "—then we can all just find something else to do."

"Of course," Kurt said.

"The man with the three knives had gone to prison for putting his lover to death," Scott started, his voice taking on the eerie tone again as he continued the story from where he left off. "However, he was the only one who believed in his innocence. Everyone feared him, calling him an animal and saying he couldn't be trusted. Slowly, however, he would come to uncover the truth. You see, the man had been framed. Framed for a crime he didn't commit."

The rain thundered outside like a stampede of animals parading by. The lightning cackled. A cold shiver ran through the room.

"That night he vowed to take back what was rightfully his. The person who had framed the man with three knives had been his arch enemy and the man also in love with the same woman. He murdered her and placed the blame on his arch-nemesis because of his claim that if he couldn't have her, then nobody would. And that very night the man with three knives escaped prison, the other man, Albert, had committed another murder.

"The man with three knives searched high and low for Albert until he sought him out at his home standing over the body of another woman. The two men stared at each other, and as the rain pounded outside, the man with three knives gave an anguished shout and raced forward, his knives outstretched in a fit of rage. The man with three knives finally reached Albert, who had stood still out of fear. But, before the knives made impact with his enemy's body there w—"

A pounding on the main door in the foyer halted Scott's sentence. The front door rattled and then opened harshly. The students snapped their heads in the direction of the door. Soaked with rain and covered in mud, a man walked through the mansion door, his teeth bared and the three knives Scott had just been telling about, in his hand.

Before the man could advance towards them or say a word, the students of the Xavier Institute got up as fast as though lightning had struck them. Screaming in terror, they ran out of the living room, through the foyer and up the stairs, and away from the man with the three knives.

When the screaming had stopped and all of the students had disappeared, Logan, teacher and resident guardian of the Xavier Institute, retracted his claws and shook his head, relieving it of the mud. Just as he did that, Ororo Munroe, fondly known as Storm, stepped through the door leading to the kitchen with a flashlight in her hand.

Logan narrowed his eyes as they followed the direction the screaming students had just gone. What Logan was trying to figure out was why the usually normal (whatever normal indicated) students ran out screaming at the sight of him.

"Did this place turn into Xavier's School for Screaming Students?" Logan asked as he turned his head towards Storm.

"I don't think so, no," Storm answered, pointing the flashlight at him.

"Then what the hell was that all about?" Logan inquired.

"I would tell you, but I don't know," Storm responded. She looked past him and gazed out at the rain fondly. "I love it when it storms at night."

"Yeah, ya think ye'd wanna lay offa the rain while a man was trying to do a job," Logan grumbled.

"I didn't know you were trying to fix the electricity, Logan," Storm smiled. "I thought maybe you had been outside because you too wanted to enjoy the rain." Logan harrumphed. Storm, without looking at him, continued. "Mother nature must take its course."

"Yeah, whatever you say, 'Ro," Logan stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him. Logan shook off his pant leg and groaned at the sloshing sound it made. "Mighta been better if I had stayed inside. No electricity tonight, anyhow. Maybe then I'd have known what all the ruckus was about."

"Oh, they were just telling a scary story," Storm informed him, trying to hold back a smile.

Logan raised his eyebrows. "I thought ya said ya didn't know."

"Well, Logan," Storm started, smiling. "Have you ever heard the tale about the man with three knives….?"

A/N: This is my pathetic attempt at humor. So, humor me and leave me a review. That little button down there is waiting…