Silent Movies
By: Didi
Disclaimer: Marvel, Stan Lee and the people over there in comic land. Don't own, don't sue, don't throw things at me. You know, all that good stuff.
Summary: A bonding over a silent movie and other things non-related.
Connections: Kind of, sort of, sequel to "Silence isn't Always Golden."
Author's Note: I couldn't help it. Jubilee and Northstar are two of the more fascinating characters, probably because they haven't been thoroughly and exhaustively explored. (Bobby Drakes being also one of my favorites but I haven't worked out how to get him into these stories yet. I'm working on it though.)
Rating: PG simply because I don't exactly know what G rated fics look like.
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"Why are we going to watch this again?" Jubilee asked for the third time as they made their way into recreations room. It was Saturday night, the school was ad quiet as a tomb, which is the primary reason Jubilee had gone seeking company. Normally, Jubilee would be dragging Paige, kicking and screaming to the nearest arcade or traveling carnival, one of the perks of being an X-Men and having a driver's license. But the blonde hayseed was in Kentucky at the moment visiting family.
Jean-Paul Beaubier had been unfortunate enough to have been caught by the energized youngster on his way to get a snack before digging into a stack of business portfolios. The board of directors needed a new managing agent, and as head of Beaubier Enterprises, he had to see to the filling of the position; which was one of the reasons he had not wanted to be bothered this evening.
Having been literally run to ground by the teen, he had ungraciously agreed to accompany her to an evening of old movies from Xavier's extensive archives. He suppose he could have stayed true to form and simply informed Jubilation that he had no inclination whatsoever to spend an entire valuable evening in the company of an immature and mouthy child such as herself. Unfortunately for him, he had paused long enough to consider this idea to note that the large mansion was considerably quieter tonight than it usually is. No sounds of rambunctious children scurrying about making nuisances of themselves. In fact, the place had been surprisingly silent for having nearly a hundred persons about.
It was the unnerving silence of the night that persuaded the usually surly X-Man to demote himself into the position of a babysitter. Having experienced a moment of unguarded honesty with the young Jubilee, he understood her anxiety at having to be in a silent place. "The Aftermath" was what she called it. The moments of complete stillness after a tragedy, a horror so great that no one knew the words or emotions to express it. It was in the silence that she, like most people, relived those moments. No one should have to suffer that kind of nightmare. Not even a brat like Jubilation Lee.
So, it is with this noble intent in mind that Jean-Paul was going to suffer through an evening of teenage drivel.
"'The Sheik' is a classic film, Enfant, one of the few that made its presence known after the 'talkie' era erupted."
"But it's got no sounds."
"That's why it's referred to as a silent film."
"Why can't we watch 'The Terminator' or something? I head Arnold Schwarzenegger is running for Governor in California."
"God help us if they give actors the keys to the States," Jean-Paul groaned as he pushed the recreation room door open, flipping on the lights as he did. "And we agreed that I would pick the film if you wanted my company tonight."
"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to pick something boring," Jubilee complained as she skipped over to the full size refrigerator by the side of the room. It was always kept fully stocked for moments like this. And if she remembered correctly, Bobby had filled it with goodies three days ago in anticipation of a hot date. "What do you want?"
"I don't suppose there is any brandy in there?" he asked setting up the complicated VHS player next to the large flat screen television the size of most small town theater screens. "I have a feeling that I will need the fortification."
"Oh come on, I'm very good company. You didn't complain when we watched 'The Matrix.'" She smiled cheerfully at him as she pulled out an amber glass bottle. "No brandy. Will Scotch do?"
"On the rock and neat," he replied automatically before wondering for a moment if she had any idea what he was talking about when she nodded her head decisively and pulled out a shifter. "And I didn't complain because I didn't think you'd hear me above the screaming you did whenever Keanu Reeves appeared on screen, in the buff or otherwise, and the booing when the man that played Agent Smith was on, Hugo what's-his-name."
Jubilee smiled fondly remembering the night she'd actually managed to talk the arrogantly superior Jean-Paul into going to the movies with her. "I love that movie; special effect, cute guys, and a hell lot of kicking ass."
The French-Canadian turned away before the teen could see that her high spirited enthusiasm was contagious. "Well, you got to indulge your modern mindless excitement last time, enfant. This time, you're going to get an educational review of what movies were like when they first appeared in the world."
"Black and white and all boring?" Jubilee asked innocently, pouring coke for herself in a glass before coming over to the couch. "Here you go, Scotch on the rock, nice and neat." Glancing down at the shifter with a single ice cube surrounded by warm rich amber liquid, Jean-Paul raised one questioning brow. "And before you ask, because I know you will, I lived here with Wolvie and Gambit, who played cards regularly with Nick Fury. I learned how to pour a drink with the best."
"Your curriculum leaves me shaking in fear for the minds of the youth," he muttered before taking large swallow of the smooth liqueur.
Jubilee watched with fascination as he took a deep breath and sighed contently. "How is it?"
"Like the velvety touch of a courtesan."
"A what?"
"Never mind."
"No, I want to know what a courta… counta… whatever you just said is."
"Watch the movie and find out," he replied, grabbing the remote control from the coffee table. He was going to have his head delivered to the viciously protective Logan on a silver platter by the stuffy Scott Summer if they found out what he had just said to the child.
A few moments passed before she spoke again during the beginning credits. "Can I try some?"
"What?"
"The Scotch."
"No."
"Why not?"
He glanced sideways at her. "Does that question even deserve an answer?"
"Oh come on, just a taste?"
"No."
"Wolvie always let me have at least a taste."
"I'm not your Mr. Logan."
"No you're not. But you're much cooler," she batted her lashes and pleaded. "Please? Just a sip."
He frowned at that attempt. "Is that supposed to impress me?"
"Oops, forgot. You're gay." She said cheerfully and with shrug.
"That's something you can forget?" he asked, more surprised than not. It was definitely not a fact about himself that he could ever forget. It was what made him always the stranger in the room of friends. The difference that set him apart.
"Sure, why not?" shrugging her shoulders. She glanced at his glass with fascination. "Just a taste?"
"No. You're not going to like it and I'm not going to waste expensive 50 year old Scotch by having you spray it across the room." He replied with a frown. "And what do you mean why not?"
"How do you know I won't like it?" She attempted to snatch the glass but failed rather miserably. "Why can't I forget that you're gay? It's just a little fact about you. Definitely doesn't define you as a person any more than being Asian defines me as a person. Hell, your stuck-up know-it-all attitude is more prominent than your being a homosexual."
He stared at her after that piece of uncannily wise insight then handed her the glass. "One sip, and do it slow," he informed her just to distract her so that he could think this through a little. What she said was definitely true. His sexual preferences doesn't define him in his own mind, he's just always assumed that it did in others. But it would appear that the little one have proven him wrong on that account. "So when you think of me, first word in association isn't gay?"
"I try not to think of you on a regular basis," she replied with a cheeky grin as she whirled the amber liquid. "But yeah, gay isn't exactly the word that comes to mind when I think of you. Arrogant, annoying, condescending, blond, French, fast… really, really fast… kind of cute, rich, egotistical, exasperating, overconfident, infuriating, snobbish, did I mention annoying?"
He glared at her.
She continued to happily show him all her teeth then lifted the glass, "Here's to good health," and took a large gulp.
Eyes popping wide, Jubilee sputtered and coughed for a moment as fire burned its way down her esophagus. Jean-Paul was proud of the fact that he managed to hold his tongue as she coughed and gasped for breath while he patted her helpfully on the back. But there was simply no disguising the superior smirk. She looked at him through watery eyes and managed to wheeze out, "Say it."
Simply unable to resist, "I told you so."
To which Jubilee responded to by sticking her tongue out at him.
"Very mature, Enfant."
She grabbed the coke on the coffee table and took a quick swallow, which turned out to be such a bad idea as the carbonated drink only made the burning worse. Making noises of discomfort, she was ever so grateful when Jean-Paul helpfully brought over a bottle of water with all the lightening speed his powers allowed.
"Slowly before you choke."
She took deep breaths as and relaxed on the sofa with a sheepish grin on her face. "Okay, not one of my favorite party drinks."
"I warned you."
"Yes you did," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, okay, I stand dutifully chastised. Happy?"
"Delirious," he muttered dryly.
The quiet hum of the refrigerator was the only sound as the movie rolled out shakily in black and white. Three minutes in, Jubilee burst into uncontrolled laugher. "Who's the ugly woman?"
Highly offended, "That's Rudolph Valentino, one of the greatest actors of all time. He's not a woman."
"Is he a drag queen?"
Strangling her would be a bad idea, no matter how tempting it was. "He is not a drag queen. That's the costume of the character he's playing."
"He's got like way too much make up on."
"That's stage makeup."
"I thought you're not supposed to see the make up on actors when they are on film."
"This was long before the time of realism on film. This was the first kind of 'escaping from reality' entertainment," he informed her sternly. "One of the reasons movies and films are so popular even today is that fact that they allow the average person to escape the humdrum dullness of life."
"Dull?" she asked as if actually contemplating that idea. "Hum… that's actually a fantasy of mine. A nice, dull, normal life where I'm not getting chased around, shot at, hung up, tortured for information, threatened on a regular basis, crucified or endangered. Wow…" she smiled dreamily. "A dull life; what a concept!"
Jean-Paul stared at her, half sympathetic, half annoyed and all around confused. "You're a very strange child."
"And he still has too much make up on," pointing to the immortalized Valentino.
"Girls," he muttered and continued to watch the movie.
"Boys," she replied and rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to watch the film. She half expected him to shrug her off but he didn't, seemingly not to notice that she was resting against him. Too delighted by his mellowing, she didn't mention the fact that he was too bony on the shoulders… so unlike her Wolvie.
The movie continued to roll. Jean-Paul was simply enjoying the film in its original context and didn't even feel bothered by the fact that the little one was giggling at all the inappropriate places. To be honest, he had to admit that some of the drama of the silent movie was distracted by the overly exaggerated movements of the actors. And they did look quite silly at times.
Fifteen minutes later, Jubilee gasped and sat straight up. "Did he just kidnap her?"
It didn't surprise Jean-Paul at all that she would take offense. He can handle women's lib. "This was before…"
"No, don't make excuses for him," she blasted hotly. "Kidnapping is kidnapping. There is no getting around that fact."
"Jubilation…"
"You have any idea that kind of thoughts that go through a person's head when they've been taken against their will?"
He blinked at her. "No, I don't believe that I've ever had that..."
"It's not nice," she informed him. "People think of all kinds of stupid things when they have no control over anything; when someone else is in the driver's seat of their life!"
Recognizing the signs now, he grabbed her hand as she jumped up from the couch. "Jubilee!" he tugged her down and forced her to face him. There was pure and unadulterated rage in those blue depths. She's been on the receiving end of a kidnap. She's suffered through it. "When?"
Forcing oxygen into her lungs and telling herself to calm the hell down, "Two years ago. Bastin and his Prime Sentinels."
Jean-Paul remember that time, he remembered the horrors for the mutant population. Still with Alpha Flight at the time, he had immunity to the nightmares that many of his kind have suffered but he remembered the horde of people that asked for protection under the Canadian flag. More to the point, he remembered what happened to the X-Men. "How long?"
The anger simmered. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Days? Weeks? I lost track of time down there."
Reaching over, he shut off Valentino's attempt to woo his prisoner. The infamous film suddenly lost all its appeal to him. "Who found you?"
"Wolvie."
He should have guessed.
"I don't want watch this movie anymore," she said in a small voice, her thoughts no longer on the silliness of silent films.
"Okay," he replied casually, praying that she doesn't cry. He was sure there was some gruesome punishment someone around will devise for him if he made the little one cry. "It wasn't a very good film anyways."
She smiled reluctantly, "I thought you said it was a classic."
"It is. But you have to admit," he said, finishing his Scotch with one gulp. "Valentino was kind of girlish. I prefer men with a little hair on their chest."
"Monkeys have hair on their chests," she pointed out politely.
Glaring at her, though relieved to see that her eyes no longer held the haunted look of someone that's seen too much, Jean-Paul turned his nose up and ejected the tape from the player. "I didn't think you'd be so unsophisticated as to compare Harrison Ford to a primate."
"Oooo… Harrison Ford," she sighed with content. "Indiana Jones," came the natural association.
He knew that particular actor would evoke a more favorable response from the child. And not even avoidance of her upset could make him sit through hours of Schwarzenegger's bad acting. With a sigh of a martyr, he got up. "I suppose we're back to modern mayhem."
"He had a bullwhip!" Jubilee screeched with delight as she dashed up. "I think we have all four movies!"
"There were only three," he corrected her.
"There's also 'Young Indiana Jones,'" she pointed out with delight. "Sean Patrick Flanery, he's so cute." She dashed from the room. "And I know exactly where they are kept!"
Jean-Paul stared after her for a moment before putting away the revered silent classic. "It's going to be a long night." He wonder if there was popcorn anywhere around.
Fin…
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Hum… why is it that the story never quite goes the way I envision them when I start? Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.