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SUMMARY: Wolverine/Jubilee. Wolverine and an adult Jubilee have consummated their relationship (see "Painting the Wolverine Red"), but now they have to ’fess up to the rest of the X-Men. And whatever happened to their clothes?

NOTE: I borrowed a line from Ethan Nelson. If you don’t know which one it is, get yourself over to Gossamer ( http://gossamer.x-philes.com ) and read his stories.

ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible and wherever you like.

True Confessions of a Firecracker.

by Mercutio

Two twigs dug into her back. At least, Jubilee could swear she felt two separate points of very itchy, irritating contact against her bare skin. ’Course, the scratches she’d received from the tough grass covering the ground hurt a bit, too, but it was the maddening tickle of the wood against her skin that she couldn’t bear.

She squirmed, hoping that the action would lessen the torment. It didn’t. The rest of the day had gone so well why did reality have to intrude now? ’Course, she couldn’t very well complain about how she’d picked up the bits of tree debris. Jubilee smiled. She’d chosen a rare get-together of several of the various groups affiliated with the X-Men to stage a campaign for Wolverine’s affections. Forget the friendship thing. She wanted him as a man, and she’d gone for what she wanted. Following a game of paintball, she’d shot Logan up close, then dared him to chase her. And chase her he had. A chase that had ended up quite satisfactorily for both parties. Orgasms all around.

The twigs still itched though. She wiggled again.

"Keep doin’ that and we won’t get back to the mansion ’til after dawn," came a deep growl from directly over her head.

"Is that a threat? Ooh, I’m so scared." She rested in Wolverine’s arms as he carried her through the woods. Her night vision sucked, and she had leapt at the chance to avoid gaining any more battle scars. Not that having him carry her was in any way unpleasant. Uh-uh. "Next time we do this outside, you get to be on the bottom."

"Whatever you say, darlin’."

She cuddled against his warm strength, feeling his skin under her cheek and burrowing into it. She didn’t have his senses, but his smell and feel comforted her.

"This could get interestin’," he said.

"What?" Jubilee struggled to look up, but being curled against someone’s chest was not the best reconnaissance outpost. In any case, the only thing she saw was darkness.

"The party’s not over. Noise comin’ from the outside of the house. Think we’re missin’ the dancin’."

"No great loss," she said, then suddenly pictured him holding her, swaying to music—or better yet, gyrating to some flash metal. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"Just one little problem, darlin’."

"What is it?"

He looked at her, eyes grave, but his face still set in relaxed lines. "How do we get into the mansion without incitin’ a riot?"

She stared at him and started to giggle helplessly, remembering their nudity. "Oh, no. No."

Nothing had been left of their clothing after they’d made love. Logan had taken them back to try to salvage something, but her earlier costume lay in shreds. She had the boots and the mask, and that was about it. Not that Wolverine’s clothing was in much better shape. He’d lost his shirt to the paintball game earlier in the day, and his trousers were much the worse for wear, ripped in several places, with barely enough fabric remaining to maintain decency. "So what you’re saying is that we’ve either got to break into the mansion without anyone seeing us—fat chance with so many people up and roaming around—or we walk up just the way we are and brazen it out."

He flexed his wrist experimentally, as though about to unsheathe his claws. "They better keep their mouths shut."

"Or what?" she asked, still laughing. "Or you’ll slash their clothes off too?"

He growled at her.

"What? It might start a fad," she said. "We could all go skinny dipping in the pool!"

He growled again, then bent his head, roughly brushing her lips apart with his own. Jubilee forgot her laughter and twined her arms around his neck, hands at the back of his head, pulling him closer to her.

"Or we could just stay here."

She pulled back a little, just enough to keep her rampaging senses from making the decision for her. "Nope. I want a shower and food. And a bed."

He nuzzled her ear. "You sure?"

She took a deep breath. *Exactly how badly do I want that shower? And how much paint do I have on me? And do I really care if I get any sleep tonight?* "I’m sure."

The simplest plan, Jubilee argued, was to appear in Wolverine’s room instantaneously, thus avoiding the otherwise inevitable prospect of exposing themselves to someone who might think their situation was funny, or worse, a topic for serious discussion. She couldn’t bear the thought of enduring the round of teasing that would occur, especially if most of the people still up had gotten drunk. Now, if they’d think that she and Wolverine streaking naked across the lawn were just a hallucination, that’d be fine.

But Wolvie wouldn’t go for either plan. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that it was a little late for either of them to try developing a teleporting ability. And what he’d said on the subject of their streaking made her grin furiously.

"You’re mine, darlin’, and I ain’t lettin’ no one get a look at you like this."

The possessiveness thrilled her, as well as the dark promise in his voice and manner that more passion still lurked inside him. She didn’t know whether she needed to dance ’til she dropped or soak in a hot tub until all her muscles went limp, but she was hyper-alert, not close to ready to let the day end yet. Even if the sun were technically down.

Instead of taking up any of her ideas on how to get back into the mansion, he left her in the protection of a tree just outside of the circle of light that surrounded the house, and slipped noiselessly into the night.

Jubilee shivered. Late spring, the night still contained

enough chill to make her shiver without Wolverine’s body to warm

her. It’ll only be a few minutes, she told herself. *He just

needs to slip inside for some clothing and then he’ll be right

back.*

Voices wafted to her from the partygoers. Well out of their line of sight, and cold enough to want anything that could distract her from her predicament, she listened to the conversation that was almost inaudible over the distance.

Or would’ve been inaudible if the participants weren’t talking in an overly loud drunk-speak.

"How long have they been gone?"

"Seven and a half hours."

"I put my money on two hours."

"Sucker."

"What’s the highest bet for?"

"Not returning."

She heard the first person laugh. "Might be safer to sneak out of the country at that. I think that they’re going to get an *un*-welcome party when they return."

The other person snorted. "Why? You could see this coming for years."

A hand on her shoulder alerted her to Wolverine’s return, and Jubilee left off listening to the conversation in favor of burrowing into his arms. She noticed that he’d dressed as well, the cotton shirt soft under her face. He rubbed her soothingly. When her shivering subsided to a bearable level, she started putting on the clothes he’d acquired for her.

Her clothes, she noticed. So he’d gotten into the room she shared with three of the other female members of Generation X and managed to find her something to wear and get back out again without anyone noticing? As impressive as always. Assuming that anyone in this whole place was actually sleeping yet.

"Thanks," she said, feeling better. "Now what? We just walk in and pretend that nothing happened?"

"That’s the idea."

"But someone’ll say something," she protested, the conversation she’d overheard loud in her mind.

"They won’t say a word," he promised, looking deadly.

His hand on her shoulder, they walked up to the mansion, and inside. As promised, no one said anything to them, although heads turned and people started whispering as soon as they passed by.

"Geez," Jubilee complained as they got to the door to his room. "I feel like I’m on exhibit."

Wolverine’s body became taut, and his expression looked hard as he sensed something that no one else would have noticed. "Get used to it," he said, swinging the door open to reveal Scott and Jean waiting for them.

"Please tell me you haven’t been waiting here this whole time," Jubilee said, trying to make light of the situation. If she thought it’d do any good, she’d throw a temper tantrum at finding them there. She had better things to be doing right now, darn it. Like trying out the bed. Beds. What a novelty.

Jean smiled apologetically. "Scott asked me to keep track of you. When I felt your mental presences returning here, we came to meet you."

"It’s best that we keep this private," Scott affirmed.

Logan said nothing, letting the shadows fall over his face.

Jubilee felt his body tensing, preparing for whatever might come.

"We know that you’re grown up now, dear," Jean said,

addressing Jubilee, "but we’re concerned. It’s isn’t really any of

our business—"

"Damn straight," Wolverine muttered.

"But—" she said, continuing, "we wanted to talk to the two of you nevertheless. Because we are concerned. You’re a friend of ours, Logan, and a member of the family."

Jubilee crossed her arms. "And me?"

Jean smiled down at her. "You’ll always be important to us, too, Jubilee. We want you to be happy."

I was pretty happy up ’til about five minutes ago, Jubilee thought.

"We’re aware that you’ve started a relationship," Jean began. "First of all, I wanted to ask you—did you think of birth control?"

Jubilee knew Wolvie hadn’t. She’d caught him by surprise, and, well, under the circumstances he had some excuse for not thinking. She’d wanted him to feel rather than to think.

Cyclops interpreted the lack of response as a ’no’, and started to swear softly. "Don’t you know any better?"

"It is an important concern," Jean interrupted tactfully.

"You could have children, and that’s a large responsibility even

discounting the dangers we risk constantly in our lives—"

*I can’t believe she’s trying to tell us about the birds and the bees,* Jubilee thought. "Look, I’m on birth control pills, all right? No danger here, people. Everything’s fine, no need to worry."

"Well, that’s one good thing," Jean said. "Now about your

relationship with Wolverine—"

Scott took over from her. "If I could have seen this coming, I would have said this before. Logan, I—we are concerned that your actions are going to hurt Jubilee."

"Umm—excuse me?" Jubilee said. "I’m standing right here.

You could maybe ask if I feel hurt?"

Jean gave her a smile that felt condescending to Jubilee.

"It—it’s important not to abuse your role of mentor in this fashion," Scott went on, ignoring Jubilee. "When a man has a relationship with a young person, that relationship has to be carefully handled when the younger person grows up. When someone looks up to you for guidance, it is important to be careful not to use that idolatry for personal pleasure..."

Jubilee bristled. "Aren’t you going to yell at me? I’m the one who practically begged him to chase me out into the woods!"

Scott found himself at a loss for words. He sputtered. "If you came on to-- approached him, he should still have known better than to react to a juvenile. We can’t tolerate Logan’s predilections for picking up young girls if he actually starts trying to sleep with them!"

SNIKT! The sound of claws unsheathing rang loudly even in the middle of an argument. In one fluid movement, Wolverine pinned Cyclops against the wall, the points of his claws at the other man’s throat. "You got somethin’ you want to say to me, bub?"

<Very smooth, dear,> Jean said into Scott’s mind, her mental

tone amused. <I could have told you that Logan has never taken

advantage of any of his relationships with young girls.>

Jubilee laid her hand over Wolverine’s wrist, rolling her eyes at Cyclops who, to his credit, seemed somewhat chagrined at what he’d said in the heat of battle. She spoke quietly, "I don’t think I have anything else I want to say to him. Talk about having a dirty mind. Let’s blow this pizza place."

Grudgingly, Logan relaxed under her hand, pulling back from Cyclops enough so that the three points of metal rested against the other man’s throat instead of pushing into the vulnerable flesh. Then he let Scott down.

"I’m sorry I said what I did," Scott said, straightening the collar of his shirt. "That was more than I meant to say."

Wolverine sheathed his claws. His expression did not relax, but he nodded to the other man. "Let me tell you something, Summers," he said in the tone of a man dislodging a secret he would have rather have kept buried. "I have a screwy memory, so I don’t know how old I am. But I know I ain’t aging ’cept on the inside. An’ I don’t think any of you are my age. All of you are young t’me. An’ long as I live, everyone will be younger. An’ they’ll all keep growin’ older while I don’t. Jubes has grown up. If you can’t see it, that’s your problem. If I can’t see it, I’m going to be alone for good."

Silence fell. Jubilee wished the other two were gone. She wanted to throw her arms around Wolvie right now and hug him very tightly. Everyone died on him. That was what he was saying— she’d been there when Mariko died, and even if she herself avoided all danger (not likely!), she’d still grow old on Wolverine anyway.

"I’m sorry," Jean said. "I don’t—we never thought of it that way." She pulled on her husband’s arm, guiding him to the door. "We didn’t mean to intrude—" Jean began apologetically.

"You had our best interests at heart," Jubilee forced herself to say, just to get them out of the room. She didn’t mean it, but hearing that seemed to satisfy them and they left.

Then she flung herself at Logan, wrapping her arms as far as they would go around him, holding onto him as though he might be teleported away at any moment.

He exhaled as she hit him. "Hey! What’s this for?"

"For being you."

"An easy lady to impress."

She grinned at him. "Now let’s try out the bed."

"Ooh, kinky. I like it."

There were advantages, Jubilee decided, to being in a relationship with a man with facial hair. Like how easy it was to grab onto Wolvie and hold him close.

Not that he seemed to mind.

He’d snared her after she’d come out of the bathroom, as if even that brief separation from her were too much for him. She sympathized. After getting rid of Scott and Jean, what she wanted most was Logan. But the call of nature didn’t take messages. He’d waited with gratifying impatience, then captured her, forcing one of his legs between hers. She’d retaliated by clutching the tangle of hair that ran down the sides of his face. One of his arms held her firmly while sharp teeth left trailing bites down the line of her chin.

No, he didn’t mind.

"Where were we?" Jubilee asked in between bites. "Oh, yeah. We were talking about beds." They’d actually being talking about sex, but beds had a tangential relationship to that discussion.

"No, darlin’, I got a better idea. We’ll jump in the shower," Logan said, pulling his head back enough to look at her. His features were distorted, made even rougher than usual by need. Jubilee loved that. She kissed him, and again they lost the thread of conversation, her hands pulling his mouth closer, and his ensuring that her body came equally as close.

"A shower?" she asked, when she could think again.

"Got somethin’ against takin’ a shower?" he growled.

"Well," she said, pretending to pout. "I was looking forward to having you at my mercy again. And now you’re going to make me wait just so we can get cleaned off."

"I didn’t say that." Wolverine grinned wickedly at her, and she flushed under the impact of that look, as his intent became clear to her. No, she wasn’t going to have wait at all. "I’ll even let you have the soap."

"What were you saying about kinky?" she gasped, biting her lip. Her? Him? Naked in a small space with hot water falling down on them? Lord, where did she sign up?

His growl got even deeper, if that were possible. "Darlin’, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet."

Without warning, he bent and picked up her off of her feet, slinging her neatly across his shoulder. Her head hung down over his back—nice view there—and her feet hung helplessly in mid-air.

Jubilee inhaled sharply, then assaulted his back with her fists. "Hey, you lummox. Lemme down! I can walk!"

He ignored her kicking and pounding. The kicking and pounding was for effect, anyway. She knew it was working, because he was chuckling.

And then they were in the bathroom, and he slid her off his shoulder, letting her descend slowly down the front of his body. She felt him against her, hard and ready. Suddenly this wasn’t funny anymore, but dead serious. In a good kind of way.

His right hand came up and paused at the throat of her jumpsuit. Jubilee breathlessly waited for him to undo the fastening at the collar.

But it seemed that Wolvie had other ideas. SNIKT!

"Oh, no, you don’t," she said, holding up her hands and backing away from him. "I like this outfit. No more slicing things off of me. I want to keep my clothes just the way they are, thank you very much."

"Then you better have them off quick," he said, grudgingly sheathing his claws. His eyes measured the distance between them and Jubilee suddenly remembered why it wasn’t a good idea to retreat from a predator. "’Cause I ain’t in a mood to be patient."

"Shoulda said that to Cyke," she said, almost nervous.

"I don’t wanna shower with Cyke." His exasperated tone defused the sudden tension between them, and she laughed. He didn’t. Apparently he didn’t think it was funny.

But then again, maybe it wasn’t. Her breath shortened, and she stripped her clothing off rapidly, bending to remove her boots. She found as her head came back up, that he had already disrobed.

Her cheek grazed his penis, and he growled.

"You up to this?"

She knew then that she could back out even now, that he was giving her the option, and felt a sense of desire mixed with love swelling deep within her. Even now, he hesitated, and it was because he was insecure of becoming his beast. It had to be insecurity, because there was no way he could smell fear on her. She wanted him as badly as she hoped he wanted her.

She glanced at the hardness of his lower body. Okay, scratch the ’hoped’.

Jubilee ran her hands down Wolverine’s stomach, stroking the hair just above the current center of his universe, then ducked into the shower. "What do you think?" she responded teasingly.

"Yeah." He followed her without a backward look, crowding her in the already small area. Even if the space hadn’t been small, she suspected that Logan’s presence would have filled it. He was just so overwhelmingly masculine.

He turned the water on, and sharp cold droplets began falling on them. It took a moment for the water to reach the right temperature, a moment that Jubilee spent screeching while Wolverine tickled her mercilessly. She didn’t mind. She didn’t mind anything that had her with him. And then the water was the right temperature and she opened her arms to it, letting it wash away the accumulated sweat and dirt and paint.

A hand began to soap her vigorously.

"Hey! I thought I got to have the soap!" she protested.

"You were too slow. Couldn’t wait anymore."

She opened her mouth to argue with him, then decided that she had no arguments to make, as Wolvie was sliding the soap over her breasts in a very satisfactory manner.

He rinsed them as carefully as he’d soaped them, and then pulled her up against him, so that her back rested against the wall. He took one breast into his mouth, suckling on it, and Jubilee wrapped her legs firmly around his waist. Now holding her, Logan accommodated the weight shift easily, without a pause in his attentions.

Playfully, she took the forgotten bar of soap from his hand and began soaping his hair. It was mashed together with paint, and she used the extra time needed to clean it luxuriating in the feel of his head under her hands, and the feel of his mouth on her nipples. Because he alternated. He didn’t let either one feel left out.

"Darlin’, you gotta stop doing that," Wolverine said.

"Why?" she asked, confused.

He raised his head, looking up at her, and Jubilee started to giggle. Soap suds dripped down across his face, giving him an absurd look. Without thinking about it, she switched the soap to her other hand and began rinsing his face and hair clean with her left.

"Big baby. Don’t like soap in your eyes," she kidded him, then bent her head to kiss him. He still held her up, and she marvelled at his strength, even though she’d known he was strong. It felt good to be held, to be part of him in this way.

"Still want to make it in the bed?"

She pretended to be surprised that he was asking. "You mean, you want to do it here?"

He looked disappointed, apparently taking her seriously, but he didn’t let go of her.

"Now that’s kinky," she said, grinning at him.

He growled and tightened his grasp on her. "Stick with me, darlin’. I’ll show you kinky."

"I can’t wait. Especially if it includes beds."

"Beds. Beds are for—"

At this rate, she’d never find out what beds were for, she guessed as she kissed him again. Her hands pressed the sides of his head, pushing his head into her, teeth grating against lips, primal instincts coming alive.

Jubilee felt the urgency coursing through Wolverine as he shifted her body, allowing her to slip down a bit so that she would fit more easily against him. All she could think about was the pressure of his body and hands and self being so much like the pressure of the water as he inserted himself into her and began claiming her for his own.

It was just as savage and unrestrained as the first time, and her nails bit into Wolverine’s back, needing to match the elemental pressure inside her with an equally elemental response to him.

She felt his frenzy, felt the pounding thrusts against her, treasured the look on his face—concentrated, determined. The face of a man in agony, torn between heaven and hell.

And then he came, gasping against her, nearly howling in his release, his thrusts definite and firm. "Oh, Jubilee."

"Oh indeed," she said smugly, clasping him firmly to her, feeling the shudders still going through his body as he continued to thrust even after it was over, riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He released her legs, and Jubilee reluctantly allowed herself to detach from him. Reluctantly enough that she did not let go of him.

He took her head in his hands this time and kissed her just as fiercely as she had him. "I want you. I need you." he said between kisses.

I love you, she thought, but didn’t say it. It was true, but no need to spook the Wolvster just yet.

"I’m sorry, darlin’," he said, surprising her.

"’Bout what?"

His hand traced down to her neck, then her torso to the curve of her hip, reminding her that there was more yet to come.

Anticipation shuddered through her. "Oh, yeah, that."

"That," he said, amused.

She looked at him and herself. "Umm... not to be practical or anything, but how about we finish the shower first before we run out of hot water?"

"Jubes, you’ll always be in hot water."

"I hope so."

He helped her wash her hair and rinse off, then pushed her out of the shower.

"Hey! Whaddaya’d do that for?"

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "If you’re in here, I’m never gonna be able to get out."

"Sounds good to me," she said cheerily, but grabbed a towel anyway and began drying off. She looked in the mirror. She was glowing. Happily. Beautifully. Because she was loved, and wanted and the man who’d made her feel that way was just a few feet away, and soon she’d have him all over again. *He’s mine. Finally, at last, mine.*

Jubilee collected her clothes, folded them into a semblance of neatness and then laid down on the bed to wait for Logan to finish his shower. She did not pull a blanket over her; there was no need. Her body was heated from the shower, heavily relaxed, and the air slid over her like the softest of blankets, invisible hands soothing her.

She was asleep before the water stopped.

Jubilee wondered sleepily what had happened to the bed as she struggled up to consciousness. Twin beds were always narrow, but she seemed to be sleeping even closer to the wall than usual. Terribly uncomfortable.

Yawning, she began evaluating her surroundings. Hmm... as her right arm stretched, her hand met the wall. Wall, check. She hunched her shoulders, feeling muscles complain, yawned again, then stretched out her left arm. Her fingers met skin, textured skin with muscles outlined strongly under it. Skin, check.

Wait a minute...

Skin? Her hand froze.

"Don’t stop now, darlin’", a deep and very familiar voice rumbled.

Her memories came fully awake at the same time she did. Wolverine! She was in his bed! Now there was a cause for celebration at any time. Her hand resumed stroking him, and she curled up against his back. "Or what?" she asked, teasing him.

He flipped over, harsh face relaxed into an uncharacteristically happy expression. "Or—" he said, pretending to snarl, "I’ll start."

"Ooh, please not that! Anything but that!" Jubilee giggled.

"Anything?" His hand ran down her body, missing nothing in its quick but thorough caress, then settled itself at the junction of her legs.

"Anything," Jubilee agreed, not caring what she might be agreeing to, sure only that it would be pleasant if it involved Wolverine.

Some time later, they managed to make their way out of the bed (which wasn’t nearly as kinky a place to have sex as Jubilee had imagined it to be), and get themselves ready to face other people. And food. Jubilee’s stomach reminded her pointedly that one of the things she’d wanted most last night was food, and that she’d skipped it in favor of a shower with Wolverine. Not that there had been anything wrong with the shower—Jubilee had greatly enjoyed the experience—but it wasn’t quite the same as a square meal. Or whatever trapezoid she might find in the kitchen at this hour.

Which reminded her...

"What time is it?" she asked Logan.

"’Bout ten-thirty."

"Eep. I’m in trouble."

He bristled, instantly protective. "What?"

"We’re supposed to be leaving at eleven. Nice overnighter and all, but Frosty wants us back at the books as soon as possible."

Wolverine stiffened. "That so?"

Jubilee continued, oblivious. "Yeah. Can’t allow us to have too much fun—we might start to behave like grown-ups or something. Problem is—how do I track her down and explain in twenty words or less what’s going on, and why I’m not coming back with the rest of GenX. ’Cause I don’t think she’s gonna like this at all."

Wolverine began to breathe again. "You’re stayin’?"

She looked up at him, dumbfounded. "Duh."

Strong arms crushed her to him, and she felt a glow of

satisfaction. Wow. He really wants me.

"So," she began, looking up at him. "How’s about a snack?"

The trouble was making it down to the kitchen without incident. Not that Jubilee was as embarrassed this morning as she had been the night before. After all, she was clothed now. That made a big difference. On the other hand, there still remained the niggling issue that she and Wolverine were now a couple. Not that she wanted to hide that—on the contrary, climbing to the top point of the mansion’s roof and shouting it out didn’t seem like a bad idea. For later. After lunch. But the knowing looks were getting irritating.

"Ah, chere," Gambit said, as they passed him in the hallway.

"We meet at last." He reached for her hand, then bent to kiss it.

"You are even more lovely than Gambit remember."

Jubilee giggled, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was acting like she were some supermodel. Or Rogue, or somebody.

"Remy, please—"

"Beat it, bub."

Gambit stiffened at Wolverine’s challenge. "Gambit not hurt de chere—"

Wolverine didn’t bother repeating himself, but instead simply glared up at the taller man.

The Cajun grinned in response, winked at Jubilee, and left.

"One down," Wolverine muttered.

"And all the rest to go," Jubilee said. She wondered exactly how many people had chosen to spend the night at the mansion. If this scene were repeated with each one, it might be hours before she got anything to eat. And that would be a disaster. Heads would roll.

As she thought that, Angelo and Everett came careening around the corner. They skidded to a stop in front of Jubilee. "Jubes!"

"Yeah, that’s me."

Angelo rolled his eyes, while Everett simply looked at Wolverine. "We’ve been looking for you. We’re leaving at eleven. Ms. Frost is angry."

I’ll bet, Jubilee thought. *And this isn’t going to make her feel any better.* "I’m going to get something to eat. I’ll talk to Frosty before eleven, I promise."

"So you aren’t coming back?" Everett said in the restrained voice of someone who fears they may strangle on their words.

Jubilee couldn’t help tossing a smile in Wolvie’s direction.

"Yeah, that’s the rumor."

"Oh."

Angelo hastily pulled on Everett’s arm, dragging him away from Jubilee. "I’ll let her know."

"Wait ’til—" Jubilee began. They were out of sight.

"...I’ve had something to eat," she finished uselessly.

"Better get a move on," Wolverine suggested, mouth twitching suspiciously.

"Why?" Jubilee grumbled. "At this rate, there’s going to be some sort of ambush set up in the kitchen. It’s all a plot, I swear."

More glances were thrown at them as they made their way downstairs. Cable looked openly disapproving, Betsy gave them a thumbs up, and Bishop simply nodded and went on with what he was doing. "Y’know," Jubilee said. "This is the first time I’ve really appreciated Bishop. Gotta like a guy who minds his own beeswax."

The kitchen was unexpectedly empty when they finally made it through the gauntlet of the mansion’s corridors. "I don’t like this. I just know that something’s going to go wrong."

Wolverine already had the refrigerator door open and was hauling out leftovers from the previous day’s picnic. "Like what?"

She laid two plates down on the table and grabbed silverware for the both of them. "I don’t know. Mutant potato salad. Exploding chicken wings. You tell me."

"Don’t worry about that, darlin’. I’ll take care of the chicken." A chicken leg hung in his mouth, and as she watched in startled amusement, he devoured it, skin, meat and all, and tossed the bone aside for later disposal.

Guess he’s even hungrier than I am.

That in mind, she made room on the table for all of the food Wolverine was unearthing. Cold cuts, cheese, the aforementioned mutant potato salad, corn, mashed potatoes, pie, still more chicken... Her stomach growled loudly, and she started filling her plate.

Wolverine joined her, starting in on the chicken with a vengeance. Mindful of how fast said chicken might disappear, Jubilee snagged two pieces for herself. Not that there wasn’t a lot of chicken left over—more than enough for two people, even if one of them were Beast, which neither of them were, but then again, this was Wolvie. She didn’t really want to be in the position of reaching for a piece of chicken at the same time he was.

She picked up her spoon, dug it into the portion of potato salad on her plate, and—

"Just what do you think you’re doing?" asked a cold, collected, and very angry voice.

"Hi, Frosty," Jubilee said brightly. "Eating. Or trying to. I think the potato salad must not want to be eaten. Part of its mutant powers and all."

Emma Frost, headmistress of the Xavier School for Juvenile Delinquents with Mutant Powers, stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. She looked royally pissed.

"That is not what I mean."

Jubilee continued to smile. This was a big triumphant moment here. Joy caroled through her, as she faced the moment when she finally got to tell Emma Frost off for good. "Why, I’m sleeping with Wolvie, of course. Although right now we’re eating. Want to join us?"

"No, I do not," the White Queen said, biting off each word

with precise diction. "What I want is an explanation. A rational,

adult explanation. You are fully aware that we intend to return

to the Academy today, in approximately twenty minutes. And yet,

I find you here—"

Jubilee interrupted. "Technically, I still have time to make it."

"—and apparently intending to stay here without having gone through the courtesy of notifying either Sean or myself. What do you have to say for yourself, Jubilation?"

She really hated being called by her first name. At least by Frosty. It had the effect of easy listening music being played at low volume. Definitely unsoothing. "That pretty much wraps it up. It’s been time for me to go for a while, an’ this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for."

"Do you mean you planned this?"

"Well, yeah, more or less."

Wolverine, who had been content to eat and spectate quietly, looked up sharply at that. "Planned?"

Jubilee found herself caught between the two of them. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable although she didn’t know why, she said, "I knew that this picnic was coming up and that we’d all be here. And I’ve been wanting to leave Generation X since I turned eighteen. But I knew I had to wait if I wanted to be with Wolvie, so I stuck around a little longer."

"Glad to be of assistance in filling your time until then," Emma said in a dangerously calm voice. "Is there anything you didn’t plan for? Or will we have to send your things here?"

Wolvie was listening way too sharply for Jubilee’s taste. "Yeah—sorta. I didn’t bring anything with me but the usual, ’cause all I brought was the one bag. But I packed everything before I left—it’s in boxes under my bed."

"A fait accompli. Congratulations, Jubilation," her former teacher said in a voice that indicated exactly the opposite. "If you haven’t already left detailed goodbye letters to all of your friends, please be sure to take care of that. They deserve better than to be abandoned so abruptly."

"Yeah—okay," Jubilee said uncertainly, watching her turn and leave the kitchen. The door shut firmly behind her, as though the headmistress had wanted to slam it but had been too enraged to dare do so for fear that the door would simply splinter off of its hinges. Jubilee felt bad and strangely guilty, as though she’d done something wrong, although she didn’t know what it was she was supposed to be feeling guilty for. Yes, she’d wanted Wolverine for a long while, and yes, she’d acted on that impulse, and look, here she was. She was bound to have thought about it and planned for this day, even if she hadn’t been certain that it would ever come. Monet leafed through ’Bride’s Magazine’ and looked at pictures of wedding gowns, Jubilee thought about Wolvie. What was the big deal?

Jubilee turned to Wolverine, looking for some sort of answer.

His face was set in grim lines, and he growled at her. "You mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?"

"What?" she asked, shocked at his sudden betrayal. Why was he so angry with her?

"I don’t like bein’ backed into a corner. An’ I don’t like it when people try t’make me do what they want. But ya did that anyway it seems. Planned all of this."

"I—" she fought for words. "I wanted it to happen—"

"Shoulda listened last night when ya told Jean you were on the Pill."

"It made sense—"

"Whole lotta things make sense t’me now." His eyes were very narrow. "The paintball game. Where did the equipment come from? Cyke hadn’t planned it. Nobody said anything about it—but all the gear was there. Did ya have somethin’ to do with that?"

She nodded unhappily, even though she didn’t know why yet she was supposed to be unhappy. "It wasn’t what you think—" since she had no idea what he was thinking, that was a safe bet, "it wasn’t set up—I didn’t know if I could get you to agree to play, so I had the phone numbers to call to get the supplies that day if it turned out that you would play."

His eyes were burning now. "Anythin’ else? Arrange the weather with ’Roro maybe?"

"No, you don’t understand—" Everything was slipping helplessly away from her. It had all been so simple. She wanted Wolverine, and she’d done her best to get everything to work together so that he could see that he wanted her too. She hadn’t been trying to manipulate him exactly. Well, not any more than he was willing to be manipulated. She had set things up for the paintball game so that she could shoot him and get him to chase her down, but he’d seemed quite willing to chase her. It all made sense when you looked at it that way, but the atmosphere in the room only got tenser and tenser, and Jubilee felt that she was on a long slippery slide unable to catch her footing as the ground fell away beneath her. Tears came to her eyes. "It wasn’t like that, I swear."

Body rigid, he stood up, cleaned off his plate and dumped it into the dishwasher along with his silverware. "Ya did a good job, kid. Almost got me."

He stumped out of the kitchen. Jubilee followed him as he walked to the front door of the mansion. "Where are you going?"

"Away. From you." He looked at her, staring in her eyes as if searching for a person he thought he’d seen there, then shook his head and looked away. "Bye, kid."

And then he left. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of his motorcycle starting up. She listened to the noise fade as he rode away.

Hands tucked around her waist, Jubilee stood on the porch, unable to find a reaction. She didn’t cry. This cut too deep for tears and, in any case, tears would not accomplish anything. He was gone. He’d left her deliberately, and apparently the fault was hers. She never had gotten anything to eat either. The hollow feeling in her stomach matched the hollow feeling in her chest.

A figure separated itself from the shadows and came to join

her. She identified it as Gambit. "P’tite—"

She ignored him. There was nothing to say. But when he extended his arm, she stepped within its curve, resting her cheek against his chest. The solidity of him comforted her, even though his solidity was an illusion of its own—Remy wasn’t hers, and so this comfort would soon vanish, just as the only comfort she wanted and had a claim to had renounced her and ridden away.

Remy honored her silence, watching quietly as a van and a limousine pulled up in front of the steps.

A flurry of footsteps behind them announced the arrival of more spectators.

"Jubilee!" Paige said. "Did you come to see us off? Is it true that you’re going to stay here?"

Only Gambit heard Jubilee gulping back tears, as she found she could cry after all. Trying to answer Paige’s question set racking self-pity through her, and she bit the inside of her lip, forcing herself to retain control. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

Slowly, she turned in the circle of Gambit’s arm to face Paige. The other members of GenX stood behind her, with Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy there as well. They carried their bags, although Paige had set hers down at the sight of Jubilee’s face.

"What’s wrong?" Angelo asked.

"I..." Jubilee started to answer and choked. The tears she’d been holding back began to fall, and she cried in huge, ugly sobs. Turning further into Remy’s shoulder, she hid her face from the group. She couldn’t face them now, didn’t want to have to face anyone.

Gambit answered for her. "Wolverine left da p’tite."

A wave of sympathetic murmurs came, followed by the people murmuring them. Hands touched Jubilee gently, patting her as their owners mouthed soothing words.

"It’ll be all right, Jubes," Everett said awkwardly. "I—I’m sure it will."

"That’s right," Angelo chimed in.

Jubilee’s unhappiness flashed into anger, and she faced them, eyes and face red. "How do you know? Maybe it shouldn’t be all right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe he should have left me."

Gambit tightened his grip on her protectively, as the students of Generation X backed away. Her friends didn’t seem to know what to make of her grief.

Emma did. Of all of them, she alone stepped forward. Holding her hand out to Jubilee, she said, "Come along. You won’t want to stay here now. The last thing you need is to wait and fret. If he comes back, he knows where to find you. If he doesn’t... well, then... perhaps you would like to ride alone with me on the way back to school?"

She phrased her sentences in her characteristically cold manner, but her tone was kind despite their earlier confrontation in the kitchen. She cared; Jubilee knew that. It was one reason Jubilee had always reacted so strongly to Emma. The White Queen could be as protective and smothering as ten thousand mothers, and Jubilee had already one. She didn’t need another. Except maybe now...

"Yes," Jubilee said slowly, uncurling herself from Gambit and taking Emma’s hand. "I... I think I’d like that very much."

"Good. It’s all settled then." Emma turned to address the others. "Paige, you are responsible for ensuring that Jubilee’s belongings return in proper order. Sean, I trust that you will be able to cope with the trip back by yourself."

Sean nodded slowly. "In this case, yes. Definitely."

"Au revoir, p’tite." Gambit bowed over Jubilee’s hand.

"Gambit t’ink dat the only mistake made here made by Wolverine."

"Thanks," she said. "You... you’re wrong... but thanks."

He watched Emma lead her to the limousine, and shook his head.

"Gambit not wrong. Not ’bout dis."

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