Chapter Text
“You look so pretty, Miss Amy!” Cream complimented, staring at her in awe.
Amy giggled and did a small twirl. “Thank you! I was worried about the timing of everything, but I think it all worked out.”
Truthfully, ‘worried’ was an understatement. She had been so busy the past few months with missions and helping Vanilla upstart her baking company that she had forgotten all about the prom. It was only when Vanilla had asked her how she was going to do her hair that she had remembered, and that was only a month in advance.
She was going to cut her losses and go next year, but Vanilla was adamant. She had dragged Amy to a few boutiques and refused to go home until Amy bought something. So, Amy, trying to be nice, chose one of the cheapest dresses in the whole store. It was gray, and she hated gray, and she was sure she was going to hate it even more on.
Butttt! Now that it was on, along with the rest of her outfit, she wasn’t complaining.
The quills on the back of her head were bundled into a short ponytail, tied with shimmering silver gems. Glittery gray eyeshadow glazed her eyelids, outlined with a sharp black wing. Bright red lipstick accentuated her lips. On her neck lay a string of clear and silver beads, leading up to a small, shiny diamond. Thin chains came down from the main chain, coming back up and meeting a bead. This pattern repeated throughout the whole necklace. Silky white gloves encased her fingers all the way up to her elbow.
Chiffon gray sleeves sat on her biceps, meeting each other at the middle of her collarbone, and folding over the rest of her dress. The fabric held close around her upper body, tied tightly by lace in the back. Thin chiffon flowed outward at the waist, giving the dress a princess look. White stars dotted the dress all the way down.
And though no one could see them, a pair of white heels fit snuggly on her feet.
Cream rubbed the starry chiffon, careful not to damage it. “Are you going with anyone? What about Sonic?”
Amy let out a laugh and shook her head, waving her hands. “No, no! No date for Miss Amy tonight. I’m just having fun with my friends,” she said with a genuine smile.
The whole ‘Sonic-is-the-Absolute-Love-of-My-Life’ thing had lasted ages, having only been broken out of a few months ago. Now that the metaphorical fog had been lifted, it was like looking at a whole different her. She still cared deeply for Sonic, of course, but she no longer had any romantic feelings for him. In fact, she didn’t have any romantic feelings for anyone.
The realization had allowed her newfound freedom, and she was enjoying it! She’d go shopping with Rouge, meditating with Esio, or even thrill-seeking with Sonic. It may have taken her 15 years to realize it, but being single wasn’t that bad.
Being alone was a blessing—even at prom.
“I know that we’ve been friends for a long time— no, we’ve only been friends for three months,” Espio muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in front of a mirror. Finally, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “Amy, I would really like to date you if you would also like to date me!”
“Dude, that was so bad. Like, I can’t laugh because I feel bad for you,” Charmy monotoned, taking a slurp out of his juice box.
Espio jumped back, eyes wide. “I-wha-when did you get here!?” He looked around frantically. “It’s-It’s not what it looks like!”
“Chillax, dude,” Charmy said, flying around him. “I won’t tell anyone about your cruuuush.” He snickered cruelly.
Espio sighed, looking back at the mirror. Outfit shopping had been a… less than desirable experience. He was hesitant to so much as ask to go with prices being so high, but he hadn’t had to. Vector simply came into his room one day, plopped onto his bed, pulled out a pad and pen, and went, “So, what color we thinkin’?”
He had expected money to be the biggest hurdle, but it turned out to be only half the battle. They had gone to multiple stores in search of Espio’s dream suit, each one a little less hopeful than the last. It also gave Espio insight into just how much patience goes into raising a child. Bringing a six-year-old into a boutique where everything is worth hundreds of dollars is like having a constant panic attack. Actually, scratch the like—it just is.
(They hadn’t been formally kicked out, but they all knew they were no longer welcome within 600 feet of Magnificent Magnolias.)
In the end, they hadn’t been able to find the perfect match, so Espio decided he’d do it himself. With a basic brown suit in one hand and a hot glue gun in the other, Espio was going to make dreams happen. He had done 24-hour-long meditations before; how bad could this arts and crafts project be?
Hard. Unbelievably hard. He wasn’t aware he could have a meltdown over dollar store gems, but Vector and he were now both very much in the know. Still, looking at it now, he was…satisfied with the overall look.
His undershirt was white, and his suit and tie were a chocolatey brown. Soft waves in the faintest of golds were painted onto his tie with small diamonds scattered throughout. A small golden Jupiter pin sat on his right lapel with a few thin gold chains connecting it to a golden star pin, a singular chain coming straight down from it. Right below his chest pocket was a dashing golden butterfly pin. On the bottom of his right sleeve was a group of golden safety pins, all placed randomly.
His belt was black with a silver frame, and his pants were ironed smooth, the same color as his suit. His shoes were a pair of shiny, black loafers.
“Where’s Mighty?” Espio questioned, trying to ignore the sweat on the back of his neck.
“Uh, duh! Mighty left ages ago to go pick up Sonic!” Charmy judged, now upside down on the nearest furniture. “Say, why aren’t you doing that for Amy? You need to be a gentleman, Espio!”
Espio turned around with a grimace, fists clenched. “I would if we had a car! If you’d care to remember, it got totaled in our last mission!”
Charmy furrowed his brows for a few seconds before coming to a look of realization. “Oh, yeah! Tough times.”
Espio turned back to the mirror, utterly defeated by the bee’s ignorance. He looked absolutely miserable—something he’d have to fix before they arrived at the gym made dance room.
Amy and he had only been hanging out for a few months, but none of that mattered to him. His love had blossomed fast and had only continued to grow as the days turned to weeks. One day, Charmy had asked what was so awesome about her, to which he really had no answer. There was just…too much to say. The way her pink quills folded perfectly around her head, the way her emerald eyes shimmered in the sun, the way her voice softened when she talked to someone vulnerable, the way she fought through every situation, no matter how hopeless—
Yeah, he loved her.
And he was going to tell her tonight at the prom. It made perfect sense! Amy loved dresses and dances, and being with her friends; this was the perfect setting. Still, he knew she appreciated thoughtfulness and privacy. That’s why he was going to propose underneath the bleachers with a rose. Everything considered, he was at least 72% sure things would go okay.
That is, if he could get out the door in the next 10 minutes. He took one last pose in the mirror before getting a terrible whiff. He sagged his shoulders with a groan.
“Charmy, where’s the deodorant?”
“C’mon, Blaze, we’re gonna be late!” Silver cautioned outside the bathroom door.
After a long pause, she replied. “You must promise me you won’t laugh.”
Silver nearly jumped back. “Laugh at you!? Of course not! Please come out,” Silver said, voice and face pleading.
Silver heard a sigh, the clanking of heels against the ceramic, and the creak of the door.
Then he saw her.
Wavy lilac hair tinted with indigo graced her shoulders. Black eyeshadow adorned her eyes, matching perfectly with her dark lipstick. Golden chain and intricate design came together in her tika to hold the red gem in the middle, bringing out the glow of her honey gold eyes. Glimmering black flowers coated her blouse, coming down to just above her belly button. Thin, black lace sleeves covered her arms.
Her black saree came across her left shoulder and wrapped around her thigh. The middle of the saree was silky black, outlined with black bejeweled flowers. Her pallu design was much the same, dragging against the floor with its length. Her petticoat was solid, silky black.
“Whoa,” Silver muttered out, looking at Blaze as though she held the answer to everything.
Blaze crossed her arms and scoffed, not even bothering to glance at the white-coated boy. “This is so stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed to this.”
Silver’s expression dimmed. “What? Why?” He reached out and grabbed her arms. “You look amazing.”
Blaze stared at his adoring expression with wide eyes, a shade of red spreading across her cheeks. Suddenly, Silver sheepishly stepped back, rubbing the fur on the back of his neck.
“S-Sorry about that.”
Blaze gave him a kind smile and stepped out of the bathroom. “It is quite alright.” Now that she was really looking at him, Blaze took in the sight of her lover.
His furry quills were in the same position they always were, but they had obviously been meticulously combed. His tuxedo was elegant and simple, just as Blaze knew it would be. His undershirt was black, as well as his tuxedo, bow, pants, and shoes. The only hints of color were his silver chain necklace, golden chain bracelet, and assortment of rings. He looked absolutely stunning, but Blaze couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.
“Oh!” Blaze announced, eyes widening. “Hold on, I’ve got something for us.” She turned back into the bathroom as Silver watched curiously.
After a few seconds of scrambling through drawers, Blaze returned holding a corsage and a boutonniere. She gently placed the corsage in Silver’s hand, and Silver took notice of the shaking of hers.
“We’re, um, supposed to put them on each other. I mean, we don’t have to do it, it is a little corny—” Silver gently took her hand with a soft smile, yellow eyes gazing into each other.
“No, it’s not corny. I-I mean, I don’t think so.” He nervously toyed with the small assortment of flowers. “So, uh, where do I put it?”
Blaze lifted her left wrist and pointed to her wristband. “You just pin it there.”
Silver took her wrist and carefully placed the corsage of calla lilies on her wrist. Despite his extreme caution, the corsage was still a bit lopsided, but that was neither here nor there. Blaze took the corsage and him in with a smile, before remembering that there was still more to do. She fumbled with the boutonniere, almost dropping it several times (since when had her hands gotten so sweaty?).
“I, uh, your turn!” Blaze said, immediately cringing at herself.
“O-Oh, okay!” Silver said, grinning a little too widely. “What do I do?”
Blaze shook her head. “Nothing. I just put it on your left, um,” Blaze trailed off, no longer remembering tuxedo anatomy. “Flap thingy.”
“...lapel?”
“Yes!” God, it was like her face was on fire. Finally, she stepped forward, willing her clammy hands to steady the pin.
Now that she was up this close, she could smell the cologne on him. It was an incredibly pleasant smell, like lavender with a touch of wood. She had purchased him a cologne not all that long ago. Could this be it? Actually, this was beginning to get strange; she was going to stop sniffing him now.
Finally, her slightly trembling hands got the pin through, and she let out a sigh of relief. Well, until she saw that she had managed to clip it completely sideways. She let out a small groan.
“I’m sorry, Silver, I completely messed up your pin.”
Silver shook his head with a small chuckle. “I doubt that, but I can’t see it anyway.” He reached his hand out, still sweating quite a bit. “May we go to the ballroom now, your majesty?”
Blaze laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand. “Oh, don’t get all formal on me now, Prince Charming.” Suddenly, she stepped back with a gasp. “I-I didn’t even compliment you! I’ve been so self-absorbed, you must think so lowly of me—“
“It’s okay!” Silver said, laughing as he grabbed her shoulders. “It’s okay. We can be nervous together. We seem to be pretty good at it.”
Blaze let out a sigh, finally letting her shoulders drop. She looked up into his eyes with a small smile. “You look wonderful, Silver.”
Silver smiled back, a blush spreading across his face. “Not as much as you do. Now, let’s get out of here before we’re late.”
Knuckles watched in slight horror and growing defeat as a dirty gray (brown?) car screeched up to him, going about 5 miles per hour. All 4 windows were rolled down, the hood was slightly raised, the back headlights were out, and the front fender looked like somebody had taken a bat to it. Finally, the car came to a stop in front of him, bouncing on impact.
“Hello, baby!” Fang yelled, leaning out of the driver's side window.
Though Knuckles couldn’t see much of the disappointment in front of him, he could see the upper half of his…costume. He was wearing a dark violet velvet hat adorned with a thick band of cheetah print (with a brim 10x too big, if Knuckles could put in his 2 cents). Oversized gray sunglasses sat idly on the bridge of his nose. The lapel of his suit (if you could even call it a suit) was completely cheetah print and too big. His sleeve was purple, ending in cheetah print. Multiple thick gray chains hung around his neck.
“Do NOT call me that!” Knuckles commanded, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Suddenly, he stepped back, a mix of confusion and disgust on his face. “Are you dressed like a pimp right now!?”
“The better question is,” Fang lay back, allowing his sunglasses to drop down. “Why aren’t you dressed like a pimp?”
This whole mess had started 2 months ago, and at the root of it all was Rouge the Bat. Knuckles, who spent most of his time on Angel Island, had absolutely no clue what this ‘Prom’ was. He wasn’t inclined to learn more about it, and this was only exacerbated when he learned of all the fashion and money that went into it. He was more than content not to go, but Rouge was absolutely insistent. After multiple trips that included begging, bargaining, and even holding the Master Emerald hostage, he finally agreed to go suit shopping.
…well, that was wording it generously. It was more like he gave Rouge complete free rein and put on whatever clothes Rouge placed into his hands. Rouge had some crazy pulls (no, he was not going to consider neon orange), but he was satisfied with the result.
He was wearing a white undershirt with a cream…tuxedo? He thought they were in a suit shop, but perhaps there were different genres. Anyway, whatever it was, it was pretty fancy. The sides had these intricate gem designs that were incredibly shiny (which was probably why Rouge picked it). The arms had the same design, which, now that Knuckles was really looking at it, kinda resembled flowers. The pants didn’t have any interesting patterns, but Rouge said they typically did not.
Knuckles thought that was more than enough extravagance, but Rouge wasn’t done. She gifted him a bunch of golden rings, along with some golden bands to put on his quills. She even gave him a very sophisticated pair of white leather shoes. When Knuckles asked how he could repay her, she simply shook her head with a smile and told him that Shadow had it covered.
He had been grateful that it was all over, but, of course, life could never be that fair.
2 weeks ago, Sonic, Tails, and he were hanging out during their weekly gaming session when Sonic had the bright idea of…playing hide and seek. He had been thoroughly uninterested, but Sonic called him a coward, and nobody calls Knuckles the Echidna a coward, and things spiraled from there. Before common sense could catch up to him, he had agreed to the game, as well as the terms and conditions: whoever lost would have to do whatever the winner asked of them.
Unfortunately, after an extremely close game, Knuckles ended up being the ultimate loser. Despite the winner actually being Tails, Sonic took great delight in giving him his crafted punishment: He had to call one of his enemies and ask them to Prom.
After many reminders of how high honesty ranked in the Guardian Code of Honor, Knuckles hesitantly searched through all the enemies he had (which…was a lot). There were many he just couldn’t contact, and there were a few that he wouldn’t talk to at gunpoint, so that narrowed it down. In the end, he picked someone bad, but not outright evil. Someone whose phone number had truly accidentally ended up in his phone, someone who surely wouldn’t pick up the call, and someone who would most definitely laugh in his face if they did.
Well, he had been correct about one thing: he had laughed.
But only right before asking him for the date.
“This is absolutely humiliating,” Knuckles muttered, beginning to walk towards the passenger side.
“Ay! You stop right there!” Fang chastised, exiting out the driver’s side. Knuckles was about to bite his head off for talking to him like a dog when Fang passed him by, opening up the passenger side door. He did a slight dramatic bow, motioning for Knuckles to get in. After witnessing Knuckles’s disgust, he had the audacity to look confused. “What, you think Fang the weasel isn’t a gentleman? God, maybe chivalry really is dead.”
Knuckles felt steam rolling out of his ears by the time he stomped over to the passenger side. He just needed to keep his cool for a few more hours; he could do that. Then he could beat Sonic into an absolute pulp—
He stopped, foot halfway in the car.
“What-“ He gestured to the catastrophe of wires where there should have been an inner door. “What is this!?”
“Oh, that.” Fang nonchalantly commented, giving a small chuckle. “Let’s just say that Bark gets very heated about One Piece.”
Knuckles groaned, not sure what most of those words even meant. He forced his feet through the many Mountain Dew bottles and sat down in the cushioned seat, buckling his seatbelt. It wasn’t long before Fang came around himself, turning the keys in the ignition.
“Now, I know she may not seem very powerful, but she can be feisty. Don’t be surprised if you start flying around.”
“…okay.”
Knuckles focused on the mailbox at the end of the road as the car rumbled to a start, trying to ignore the ashes that were seemingly everywhere. So, he was overwhelmingly aware of their speed when, after 10 seconds, the mailbox had gotten no closer. He turned to yell at Fang for wasting his time when he saw it; Fang’s foot was pushing the pedal all the way to the floor. This was as fast as the car went.
Knuckles closed his eyes and began contemplating how good this suit would look coated in red.
Sonic strutted up to the white pickup truck, leaning into the driver’s seat with a smirk.
“What are you headed, pretty boy?”
The armadillo playfully rolled his eyes, his hands still on the steering wheel. “To the prom. That is, if a certain blue hedgehog would allow me to?” Mighty raised his eyebrow with a smirk, and Sonic stood back in mock offense, placing his hand on his chest.
“You should never rush a lady!” Sonic said, and he hadn’t yet made it 3 feet before Mighty’s voice stopped him.
“Wait,” Mighty’s soft voice said, his eyes looking at him with a twinkle they hadn’t possessed a few moments before. “You,” his voice trailed off, eyes still glued onto Sonic.
“Uhhh, what is it, dude?” Sonic looked from Mighty to himself, giving himself a thorough visual pat-down. “Did I put something on backwards?”
“No, no,” Mighty said, a laugh embedded in the words. “You just look really nice.”
Sonic could feel his face getting hot as he sputtered on his words, scratching the back of his neck. “Th-Thanks! You, too!”
Honestly, Sonic wasn’t expecting many compliments tonight. Sure, they were always welcomed and deserved, but he didn’t feel that tonight’s fashion was anything special. He got enough attention as it was, and though he did love it, he craved a simple outing with his friends. He had decided to play it simple this year, picking a simple emerald green tuxedo (Amy said it would bring out his eyes). His undershirt was white, his tuxedo was green, and his bowtie, lapels, pants, and shoes were all black—no jewelry, no special quill additions, nada. It was perfecto.
But with the way Mighty was looking at him, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had accidentally carried the moon out with him.
Mighty let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “You haven’t even seen my suit yet!”
Sonic blushed even harder at the fallacy he had set up and walked himself into. “S-So? I was just being nice! Can’t a guy be nice anymore?”
Mighty let out a small huff, but Sonic could tell it wasn’t from frustration. “Sure, sure. Just get in the car, you doofus.”
Sonic guffawed, putting a hand to his chest as he closed the distance. “Doofus!? I don’t know who you’re calling a doofus, but it can’t possibly be the speediest mobian on earth. Nuh-uh, no way!”
Mighty smiled and straightened himself as Sonic’s seatbelt clicked into place. “I apologize from the bottom of my heart, sir. Never again will I insult the blue blur!”
“Ay, that better not be sarcasm! The fastest thing alive doesn’t appreciate sarcasm regarding his greatness.”
Mighty granted him a small adoring glance (what was that about?) before redirecting his attention back to the road. “You excited for tonight?”
Sonic paused, a bit surprised by the sudden change of topic. “I, uh, yeah, I guess? I mean, it’s nothing special, but it’s alright.”
Mighty gave him a doubtful look. “Nothing special? It’s the last time we’ll see a lot of our friends before they,” He threw a hand out. “Move out into the world. That’s a little important, don’t’cha think?”
“Uh, are you forgetting about the whole super speed thing? It doesn’t matter how far everyone is! They’re all, like, a thirty-minute run max.” He kicked his feet up against the dashboard, placing his hands behind his head. “‘Sides, you’re talking to the guy who fights death every Wednesday like it's breakfast. Forgive me for not caring about a dance.”
Mighty scoffed. “Oh, please, spare me the Indiana Jones talk—I am very aware of all your sacrifices for Mobian society.” He let out a sigh, and if Sonic was any wiser, he might say that his smile looked a bit sad. “I guess that’s fair, though. When you fight murderous robots every day, things like this get a little boring, huh?”
“Well,—”
Mighty took in a quick, deep breath. “Y’know, you’re the only one I let put their dirty paws on my dashboard.”
Sonic let out a small laugh, grateful that the conversation had returned to a comical state. “Hmm, I am not a fan of that negative wording. How about we reword it to,” Sonic placed his hands out in front of him as though he was measuring a painting. “Sonic the Hedgehog, greatest fighter alive, graces dashboard with his presence.”
“And leaves his magical dirt everywhere,” Mighty mocked with a grin.
“That’s the spirit!”
Mighty laughed, and then his expression settled into a soft smile. “Seriously, though, I think we’re gonna have a really good time tonight.”
Sonic raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face. “Really? What are we gonna do?”
Mighty gave him a confident glance, and, with the most genuine voice Sonic had ever heard, asked, “What do you want to do?”
It was at this very moment, as his eyes ran up and down the armadillo, that Sonic realized he hadn’t taken in his suit at all. Now that he had noticed it, it was occupying every space in his mind (not that it had a lot to work with, though).
The most beautiful gray Sonic had ever seen was encasing the Armadillo’s arms, abdomen, and legs. It looked so shiny and soft that Sonic had to restrain himself from touching it. His undershirt was white, and in the middle was a rich golden tie with white patterns all over it. On his left lapel was a shimmering gold leaf pin, and how had he missed this?
“Uh, are you okay? What are you looking at?” Mighty asked, a playful, but slightly concerned, expression on his face.
Sonic jumped back, eyes wide at the embarrassing realization. He cleared his throat and nonchalantly leaned back, looking out the passenger window.
“Nothing.”
“Heeere you go,” Rouge said, carefully tying Shadow’s tie. She stepped back to admire her work, putting her face in her hand as she smiled. “Ugh, you look amazing, darling! Almost good enough to steal.”
If Shadow saw the wink aimed his way, he didn’t show it. “Thanks.”
“Alright, man of many words,” Rouge wrapped an arm around his elbow, pulling him towards the door. “I want Omega to take a few photos of us before we leave. This lipstick is only so smudgeproof.” Rouge grinned something devilish, and Shadow let out a scoff.
“Fully untrue. I have receipts proving that you’ve bought some of the highest quality lipsticks out there.”
Rouge leaned in, something devious in her eyes. “I didn’t say I didn’t have one, wise one. I just think red complements your quills.”
Shadow choked on his saliva, fighting back the inferno attempting to emerge from his face. After another minute of (painfully) slow walking, they finally made it to the living room, where Omega stood ready with a camera.
“You both look amply prepared for the task ahead of you,” Omega complimented, directing his attention towards them.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Rouge beamed, her free hand going to her chest.
Shadow offered the smallest of smiles. “Thank you, Omega.”
Omega held out the camera far in front of him, looking comically big in comparison. “Omega will take the photo whenever you two are ready.”
Rouge and Shadow both made their way to the middle of the living room. Rouge straightened out the ends of her dress as Shadow held her hand for balance, staring blankly at the camera. Once situated, Rouge began leaning on Shadow’s side, one hand on his back and the other on his chest. Shadow put one hand on her back, allowing the other to dangle idly by his side. Finally, they both stared up at Omega and smiled.
3 flashes later, and it was over.
They both unhanded each other, but stayed close as they approached the robot. Excitedly, Rouge took the photos from his hand. Smiling, she let out a gasp.
“Look at this beauty! It’s almost worth more than my gem collection!” A small pause. “Almost.”
Shadow gently took the photo from her, eyeing it over. His place in the photo was something easily overlooked, nothing special by any means. His undershirt was a deep burgundy, his circular pendant was silver, and everything else was black. His tie, his suit, his gloves, the rose pinned on the right side of his chest—everything. Nothing special.
Rouge…Rouge sparkled. Her hair was curled out in a way that lay perfectly on her shoulders. Burgundy eyeshadow graced her eyelids, glimmering in the light. Maroon lipstick blessed her lips in the best possible way, leaving Shadow wondering how truthful her previous statement was. The dress itself was perfection, too. A silky black thread came across her neck, holding up the sleeveless dress. Silky, burgundy fabric hugged her body from the hips up, black gems reaching down the dress in various curved lines. The dress drew outwards at the hips, breaking into black ruffles with some purple in between. In the end, the dress stopped just below her knees.
“You,” Shadow breathed, looking up from the photo. “Look really good, Rouge.”
Rouge blushed, taking a startled step back, but just for a second. Only a blink later, her composure was regained, a smirk growing on her face.
“I guess someone’s happy that they agreed to go to the dance I begged them to.”
A confident smile made its home on his face as he raised an eyebrow. “Begged?”
“Rouge the Bat never begs.”