Summary: Five things Jubilee saw at the mansion but never told anyone. Wrote this mostly because there's not enough Jubilee... ;)

Disclaimer: Property of Marvel and Fox and Stan Lee and blah blah blah...


There are certain things that Jubilee loves to talk about: boys, makeup, horny dirty sexy stupid celebrities, hairstyles, fashion... But there are also times when she knows when to keep her mouth firmly shut...


She wasn't usually the first person to arrive to class. But she still had finishing touches to put on her paper (more like, actually writing it) and she didn't need the distractions of Kitty and Peter teasing her about her topic – Jennifer Aniston: Victim of Her Environment or Just Plain Loser. The Professor told them they could write about anything they wanted so she was going to write about something she was an expert on. And she was an expert on celebrity gossip, damnit!

She pushed opened the door to the classroom and realized immediately that something was not right.

The Professor's wheelchair was in the room...but he wasn't sitting in it.

"Professor?"

"Logan?"

Logan? How the hell does he mistake a 16-year-old girl's voice for him? And wasn't he suppose to be some kind of all-knowing svengali?

"Uh...no, Professor. It's Jubilee. Where are you?"

"Over by the desk."

She walked towards the desk and saw the Professor lying on his back on the floor, unable to do much except lift his head and wave his hand in greeting.

"I've already called Logan, he usually helps me up when I get this way," he said sheepishly.

Then she realized that this wasn't the first time this had happened.

She watched as Logan came and lifted the Professor in his arms, seating him back into the chair. Logan carefully arranged the Professor's legs, quietly asking him if he needed Hank or Jean to come. The Professor smiled and shook his head no.

Logan left, giving Jubilee an indecipherable look. It was either a I'm-going-to-kill-you-slowly-but-surely look or a I'm-going-to-bake-you-cookies-and-brownies look. She liked her second interpretation better.

"Jubilee?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"I would rather have no one know about this little incident. How's about an extension for that Jennifer Aniston paper of yours?"

Damn psychic abilities... Wait, I probably shouldn't have thought that... Now he knows... Crap...

"Jubilee?"

"Don't worry, Professor. I can keep a secret." She paused for a moment and then added, "But I'll take that extension anyways."


A perfectly good Saturday wasted. All because she fell asleep during one really long ass, boring lecture. And it wasn't like she snored during the lecture, unlike John… How he managed to escape Mr Summer's radar-like detection of students not paying attention was beyond her.

She was to help Ms Munroe sort through the million of boxes in the attic as punishment – she was still a little vague on how this was suppose to teach her not to sleep in class but whatever. This was way better than when she had to clean the gutters for making fun of Mr Summer's butt with the laser pointer – which was entirely his own fault for leaving it out in the open for her to take advantage of in the first place.

"Why don't you start over there, Jubilee? We're looking for files, documents, papers – anything that looks important. We need to get them out of these boxes so we can archive them. All right?"

"No problem-o."

Jubilee opened one of the boxes and got a faceful of dust. She coughed and tried to defuse the dust particles by waving a hand over the box. She saw inside were a stack of pictures, very old pictures judging by the yellowed and creased edges. She flipped through them curiously. She saw snapshots of a very young Professor and Magneto standing in front of what looked to be the mansion in its early days, snapshots of young boys and girls she didn't recognize at the school, snapshots of a young Scott and Jean and Storm.

She looked up from where she was sitting, watching the older woman bend over and move boxes to the side.

Jubilee couldn't wrap her head around how young they all looked in that picture. She wondered if their dreams had been to work and live in the same place they had grown up in or if they dreamt of leaving, maybe living someplace exotic and exciting. Were their youthful aspirations really to don leather uniforms and fight for people who feared them?

Damn, all this thinking was hurting her head.

"Jubilee? Are you working over there?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, putting the pictures back into the box.


Was that...no, it can't be...wait a minute...holy crap, it is!

It wasn't like it was the first time she had seen two boys kissing. She'd seen a couple of episodes of Queer as Folk before Dr Grey finally realized she needed to program the v-chip for it to actually work. But this...this was happening before her very eyes -- in 3-D! Live and in person! Woo hoo!

Warren is kissing a boy. Warren is making out with a boy.

Warren is gay, stupid.

Aw, shit. There goes my one prospect in this seriously boy-deprived school.

Then she realized who exactly he was kissing.

Oh gross... Not him! Anybody but that asshole! That asshole doesn't even wash his hands after going to the bathroom! And Warren is letting him touch him there?! Oh gross... I'm gonna be sick...

Later when Rogue asked her what was the matter, all she said was, "I seriously need to wash out my eyes."


She should have knocked first.

But then again, when did she start to have that courtesy when it came to Logan? She never knocked when she went into his room, mostly because she had secret silly hopes of catching him undressing and/or sleeping in the buff. Mostly the sleeping in the buff part...

Today, though, she should have knocked first.

She just wanted to tell him that Rogue was back from wherever the hell she went to in the middle of the night. When she opened the door, the room was dark and she thought for a moment that he wasn't there. But then through the fading sunlight, she could see him sitting on the bed with his back to her. His shoulders were shaking and she could tell from the soft noises he was making that it wasn't laughter that was making his shoulders move like that.

She knew what had happened at Alcatraz.

And here was the aftermath.

She silently walked backwards out the door, closing it softly behind her.


She couldn't believe he was here.

And he dyed his hair. Blonde? What the fuck?

She had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't still sleeping and dreaming all this nonsense but when she opened her eyes again, there he was again. Still slouched against that tree. Looking relaxed and not at all scared that he might be caught by a Wolverine or a Storm or even a Beast.

It was like he was waiting for something...or someone.

Then she heard the distinctive noise of the front door opening and she saw a figure dart out, running towards him, dropping a bag on the way.

He straightened when he saw someone coming, smirking as he waited for that someone to reach him.

She squinted her eyes in the darkness to try to make out who had come out to meet him.

Then she recognized the white streaks even in the poor light.

She saw them holding each other close. She saw him murmuring something to her, brushing away a loose strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. She saw her nod and he picked up the bag.

He had an arm around her shoulders and she was leaning against him as they walked out the gates.

When Bobby asked her later that morning if she had seen Rogue, her reply was "No."