Disclaimer: you know the drill. They own the X-Men, I don't… I'm just borrowing them for a while…
Author's Note: This is a little fic I thought up the other day. I've wanted to write a Bobby Drake fic for a while, but I couldn't get it off the ground because a) I'm a college student and school comes first and b) I was knee deep in the middle of my last one, which is now finished. I'm done with the End of the Matter, and so I can start on my new story…
Author's Note, pas deux: This is not a slash Bobby fic. He is absolutely straight, and is about hmmmmm 25or so, young, but not jailbait in other words. This fic is set solely in the comicverse, so Jubilee and Gambit are in it. Naturally, I have included everybody's favorite brand of sadists, the FoH, as well as the Legacy Virus, just because I wanted to…
I would appreciate feedback, really…it keep me going. Okay then, let's go to New York…
Bed of Roses, Part One
Lauren Clark, aged 31, eyed
the living room to her new home with a sigh of disdain. It wasn't that there
was anything wrong with the room, goodness no! It was the fact that there wasn't
that had her disturbed…
Disturbed…or perturbed? She thought as she brushed an imaginary strand of
hair out of her eyes. No, there was nothing wrong with the room, the house, the
neighborhood, or the well-to-do county they were living in. It was all simply
perfect…and that made it wrong.
Of course James had to get a place big enough to
bunk the entire House of Representatives, she
thought, wincing slightly at the exaggeration, knowing that if James were here
to hear it, he'd reprimand her for being so gauche.
"A society wife
does not exaggerate or boast, it is beneath her and it is distasteful. If you
want to make statements like that, go to a sports bar", was the sort of thing that James Clark the Third would say to her, the
sort of thing he always found time to
say to her. He was always on her case, reminding her that he was on the
political fast track, and she needed to act the part of the flawless society
wife at all times. Appearances were everything in politics, and he had his eye
on the big prize: District Attorney. That meant having a perfect, freshly
scrubbed home and a perfect, freshly scrubbed wife.
And it leaves little or no room for what I want, not that it matters anymore. I shouldn't complain, shouldn't be so selfish, James is a good husband and his job keeps a roof over our heads, what does it matter that I'm little more than a trophy for him to model off at political functions? He's a good man, and he works hard to give us everything that we could possibly want. I should be happy that he's doing so well, that we're doing so well…
But she wasn't happy, not
with the house, the expensive cars…the lifestyle…
The life…
She brushed another
imaginary strand of hair out of her eyes, and shook the damning thought out of
her head before it could worm its way into her brain, poisoning her against her
husband, her life, her very existence. She picked up another box and began to
unpack its contents, forcing herself to hum, the sound echoing off of the
ostentatious cathedral ceiling and drifting through the 16 room, 5 bedroom
house that would only be occupied by two people, but was big enough to fit a
family of 6. She looked around the room again, and grimaced at the size of the estate, as well as the décor. It was old,
turn of the century perhaps, with high windows, cathedral ceilings, and
chandeliers in nearly every room. The interior of the house was tastefully
painted in shades of cream and mauve, the grounds were neatly manicured, and
the furniture was old leather and gentility. One hundred percent society,
high-class acceptance bought for the screamingly obscene price of $450,000…the
fact that the property was situated in Westchester County explained the high real
estate price. The property value out here was sky high, and the price for even
a two bedroom house was exorbitant. But James had insisted that they move out
here, away from the city, to this pricey suburb. As James had put it, everybody
who was anybody was considering moving to Westchester, and having a home out
here elevated his social status considerably. It would help him, now that he
was running for office…
James had made
high-profile friends during the course of his career. Even she knew that and she had only met a handful of them
during the course of her 10-year marriage. The Clarks had lived in
Massachusetts for the first two years of their marriage, and had moved to New
York eight years ago, long enough for James to establish a career as a high priced
lawyer and make partner in his firm, long enough for him to get his foot in the
door and earn supporters in and out of the political ring. James had some
pretty high ideals, and he used them to attract attention, both positive and negative. Lauren knew that he was meeting with a
"Senator Kelly" tonight, discussing as always, "the mutant problem"…a current
"hot issue" with the political crowd and
with the voters…and something that had gotten him a lot of supporters and enemies over the years. There was even rumored to be
a school somewhere in this county that housed young mutants. She wondered if
James knew…
Mutants…the thought both
frightened and intrigued her. She had been a member of the Model U.N. in
college, and one of the topics they had discussed even then was the issue of
whether mutants deserved equal rights, just like non-mutants. She had been very liberal, had wanted equal
rights for mutants even though she was 100% human, with no mutant gene in her DNA
code, no special powers or abilities. Still, she fought for them and their
rights. After all, despite an extra gene, weren't mutants human, too? James had
had strong opinions on the subject back then, too, though he hadn't been so
dead-set about them as he was now. Back then, they had actually argued about
it, had even broken up over it once…
Back then she knew how to
stand up for herself…she hadn't allowed a man to define the boundaries of her
world…hadn't allowed a man to think for her…
Back when things were
simple…
Back when she was happy…
Back then…
She sat down on the
elegant sofa and pulled something out of box number 51 (they were all cataloged
as per James' orders). She looked at it for a moment, a frown creasing her
brow, marring her delicate features…then she placed it on the mahogany end
table next to the sofa.
It was her wedding
picture, taken nearly 11 years ago. She had been a beaming bride, standing
there next to her handsome, aristocratic husband. The whole ceremony had been
perfect, with his moneyed family footing most of the bill. Her parents had been
thrilled with the whole affair, happy that their darling daughter was finally
marrying Prince Charming after nearly 4 years of courtship. She and James (he
had been Jamie then) had met their freshman year at Yale, and had been nearly
inseparable ever since. He had been the devoted beau to her all through
college, perfect, stable, charming, a fraternity god in his Sigma Phi Epsilon
sweatshirt and his Dockers khakis. He was near the top of his class in at the
Yale School of Law, a veritable golden boy to everyone who knew him. She hadn't
stood a chance of escaping that charm even back then, even after they had had
the major blowout over Mutant Rights, she had taken him back. He had begged her
forgiveness, had told her that her opinion mattered to him, that he loved her
too much to let her go over something so trivial as an argument…
She had been good at
putting up appearances then, too, telling her parents and friends all the time
how wonderful and charming James was, and how lucky she was to end up with such
a wonderful man. After all, he was her
Prince Charming in the flesh, right? The kind of guy she had thought about when
she talked to her friends about The Perfect Man. And James, despite the
occasional fight or cutting word, had been just that…perfect. Perfect for
everyone around him, and more than perfect for her…she had told herself night
and day those when she was a student at Yale that this was The Perfect Man, and
that she loved him. She loved him more than life itself and she told her
parents that she wanted to marry him, that he would be the Perfect Husband to
her…
She had managed to
convince them…and herself, and when James finally proposed after 4 years she
had tearfully accepted. He had been her first boyfriend, her first and only
lover, and now her husband for nearly 11 years. She should have been happy, she
told herself as she stood there in the living room of their new home. After
all, she had everything a girl could ask for…
So why am I miserable? Why am I so happy when he has to make an appearance without me? Why do I look at my wedding picture and want to cry? Why do I fantasize about the first years of our marriage, before he got so…power-hungry? Why do I prefer a vibrator and a stack of romance novels when I have a real, flesh-and-blood husband to satisfy me?
Because he doesn't anymore, not like he used to…the voice in her head told her mockingly, when you do have sex with him it's like making love to a robot: cool, dispassionate, same position, different day…he's nothing like the man you met in college. He's nothing like the man you fell in love with, the man who proposed to you on a bed strewn with rose petals, the man you used to wait up for, the man who used to tell you he loved you every morning before he went to work…truthfully, you don't even know who he is anymore. And while we're at it Miss Perfect Wife, who are you? What happened to the woman you used to know, the one who actually used to stand up for herself? What have you become, other than a Martha Stewart clone?
"I have not," she told the
voice in her head, immediately feeling foolish for talking to herself. If James
had been home he would have ridiculed her for "hearing voices". He wouldn't
recommend a shrink, because she was a political wife and the news would get
out. He couldn't afford to have a quack for a wife, not when he was campaigning
for the D.A's position. He had to look perfect, and that meant she had to look perfect. No psychiatrists or nervous
breakdowns allowed. Period.
Lauren walked over to the
gilt-edged mirror in the foyer and looked at herself in it, scrutinizing her
reflection. She was an attractive woman, in a refined way. Her shoulder length brown hair was twisted
up into a neat French knot; she was dressed in J. Crew relaxed fit jeans and a
polo shirt. She had a lightly freckled, delicate face with a figure to match:
lightly curvaceous, but in no way voluptuous. She was certainly attractive, but
too understated to attract much attention in public. That was fine with James,
though, he didn't want her to be a "sexy" woman. He wanted her to be refined
and elegant, to be a beautiful extension of himself, not a target for other
men's desire. He gave final approval of her wardrobe choices, particularly when
she was stepping out in the public eye with him, which thankfully was not
often. The media was so cruel, look what they had done to that Lewinsky girl!
The farther she stayed out of the public eye, the better. So far, this early in
the race, nobody had gotten pictures of her, even though she was the wife of
the Man Who Would Be District Attorney. She couldn't hope to be that lucky in
the future, not with James openly announcing his intention to run for the
position, not when he had high-profile political supporters like Senator Kelly.
She frowned at herself in
the mirror, and then stopped. After all, frowning caused wrinkles, and she
didn't want that now did she? She was
nearly 32 years old, and so far she had been able to hide the march of time
through the generous use of Alpha-Hydroxyl creams and lotions. She actually looked a bit younger than a
woman in her early thirties. Most people thought she was at least a few years younger than her real age, and that was fine
with her, Old age would come soon enough, might as well enjoy youth while it
lasts…
Too bad I don't enjoy my life…
She sighed in the mirror.
Her reflection sighed back. She stuck out her tongue. Her reflection did the
same. She looked at her twin in the mirror and said:
"That's it…you've got to
get out of this place. A drive would do you good. Maybe stop in town and pick
up some groceries before the store closes…"
She nodded at her
reflection and resolutely walked to the kitchen, grabbing her purse, keys, and
a light J. Crew sweater, pulling her hair out of the French knot and shaking it
loose so that it fell loosely around her face. She walked to the bathroom down
the hall, gave herself a once over in the mirror, and nodded, satisfied. She
looked casual enough to pass for one of the locals, but not sloppy enough to embarrass
James if one of his political cronies (or enemies) recognized her. She turned
off all of the lights, locked the doors, and walked out to her car, a 1998
Buick Century, maroon red, loaded to the gills. She started the luxury car and
backed out of the four-car garage slowly, then accelerated as she threw the car
into drive and sped down the driveway, to the road and into the New York night,
heading for a sleepy little town called Salem Center.
Salem Center: 7:00 p.m.
"C'mon, Bobby…pleeeease!
Just this once?" whined Jubilation Lee, her pretty face twisted into a pout
worthy of the average 5 year old.
"No, I am not buying you
alcohol. Not after the last time!" said Robert "Bobby" Drake sternly. "You got
me so deep into trouble, every time I turned a corner, there was one of the
other X-Men lecturing me about the "perils of teenage drinking" and how it was
my responsibility as an adult to make sure…"
"…That I have a strong set
of morals. Yeah, yeah…c'mon, Bobby…just this one time? The others won't know, and besides, the last time wasn't that bad. They've probably all forgotten by now…"
"Jubes, you puked in the
Professor's wheelchair and in Storm's
garden and you had to spend a day in the
Med Lab being treated for alcohol poisoning! Trust me…they'll know. I am not getting my ass kicked over you again!"
Jubilee pouted even more
and ran a hand though her short black hair. She looked at Bobby and sighed,
"Drake, I swear…old age is getting to you. You're getting to be such a square!
You used to be a fun guy to hang around
with…"
"Yeah, well, maybe I
decided to grow up a bit, y'know? I'm 25 now, not 14! I can't go around T.P.ing
the mansion forever, pulling juvenile pranks like I used to."
"Yeah, well…you're getting
to be as boring as Scott…"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"There is no way I am that stiff!"
"Oh yeah you are, buddy!
Big time! And you-"
"-Hey Jubes, watch out!"
Jubilee looked up just as
she rammed her cart into a woman in the produce section. The woman, who looked
to be in her mid to late twenties, caught herself on the tomato display, but
dropped her basket of groceries, spilling fresh fruits, vegetables, and the odd
can of chicken noodle soup all over the floor.
"Omigod! I am soooo sorry!
I didn't see you…" squealed Jubilee, genuinely mortified.
"It's alright, really. I'm
fine," said the woman, who was kneeling on the floor and beginning to pick up
the spilled produce. "Can't really say the same about the cucumbers, though,"
she said, holding up a rather bruised looking green vegetable.
Bobby, who was never one
to ignore a woman in distress, decided to do the chivalrous thing and help her
pick up the spilled groceries. He stole a good look at the lady while he was
helping her reload her basket. She was pretty, though in a plain "Hamptons"
sort of way. She looked like the sort of woman you might see modeling J. Crew
or L.L. Bean, or going out sailing on Martha's Vineyard. Neatly dressed and
polished, though in a casual jeans and a sweatshirt sort of way. Out of habit,
he stole a glance at her ring finger…
No wedding ring, so she might be single…oh, Drake you are getting pathetic if you're trying to pick up women in the grocery store! Besides, she's not really your type, you've never been one for the Cape Cod set…
She was looking at him, a
slightly puzzled look on her face, and Bobby realized that he had been staring
at her. He heard Jubilee stifle a laugh behind him, and blushed furiously.
"Ummm, sorry. Here's your
eggplant." He handed the purple vegetable to the woman, " I ummm, don't
remember seeing you around. Are you new to the area?"
"Yes," she said, smiling
at him. "I just moved out here from the city… I'm still trying to get used to
it out here…it's so quiet at night, no cars, no people… just crickets."
"Uh, yeah, it is…quiet,
that is…but it's nice you know? The crime rate out here is pretty low: mostly
drunks picking a fight at Harry's. You'll get used to it pretty quickly, and
you'll kick yourself for not moving out here sooner…well, my friend and I had
better get going. Oh, and, I'm really
sorry about that little accident, Jubilee's still learning to drive…"
"Hey!" yelled Jubilee.
'For your information, mister, I can drive just fine…"
"Okay Jubes, shut
up" said Bobby sotto voce. "I'm trying to make a graceful exit
here…"
The J. Crew lady smiled
and said, "It's fine, really, I think my
vegetables and I will survive…it was nice meeting you…" And with that, she
walked down the aisle and out of sight.
Jubilee looked at Bobby
slyly, then nudged him in the ribs, "I saw that …you thought she was hot! Why
didn't you get her name and number?"
"Because we're in a grocery store, you dumbass. Besides, she's probably
married…"
"Well, I don't think so. You can always tell if a woman is
married by her groceries. Did you look at her groceries while you were playing
Mr. Hero and helping her pick them up?"
"Uhhh…no. What do
groceries have to do with it?"
"No wonder you never have
a date…okay, if you had been looking at her food instead of her, you would have
noticed that she had an alarming amount of fruits and vegetables in her basket.
She was not shopping for a man, Bobby,
trust me on this one. Men don't eat rabbit food! Besides, she didn't have a
ring on…"
"Yeah, I noticed
that…doesn't mean anything, though…she could be seeing someone. Besides, she's
not my type…"
"Yeah, whatever, Drake…oh,
and by the way, you're a shitty liar…let's get the rest of the grocery shopping
done before the others send a search party…"
"Yeah, okay, Jubes…hey,
can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, Drake, what is it?"
"If I happen to like
rabbit food, does that make me less of a man?" He said it with a wry twist to his mouth, and the look in his eye that
told Jubilee that he was joking…
"You're an asshole, Bobby.
I still think you should have asked that lady for her number. I mean…you'll
probably never see her again!"
"Ah well, you win some,
you lose some. Besides, she probably would have broken my heart and there's the whole mutant issue…"
"Yeah…" agreed Jubilee
sadly. She knew all about the mutant issue. Normal guys wouldn't come within
ten feet of her because she was a mutant, and there were no other guys at the
Institute that were her age, so no luck there. She was beginning to think she
would die single…
Well, at least Bobby has as much bad luck with women as I do with men. If I die single, at least I know he'll probably die single with me…sad thing is, Bobby's actually a pretty hot guy, and normal girls won't go out with him just cause he's a mutant…
They got all of the
supplies. Jubilee tried to con Bobby into buying her some beer again, but
finally gave up after he refused for the umpteenth time. He was, in her
opinion, taking way too many lessons from Scott… Finally, they got everything
checked out and loaded into Bobby's car, then drove off towards the Institute,
arguing the whole way…
Lauren finished her
grocery shopping, what little there was of it, checked out and headed to her
car. As she was loading food into the back seat, she saw the young man and the
teenage girl that she had literally run into in the store drive off in a small
late model car. She thought about the man, and how courteous he had been, and
she had to repress a pleasurable tingle…
Well, just because I'm married, doesn't mean I'm dead. He was very good-looking, and so charming! It was so nice of him to help me…he didn't have to do that…Ah well, I'd better get home before James gets there, he'll want to tell me all about his meeting with Senator Kelly, and he'll be angry if I'm not home to meet him…
She got into her car,
started it up and drove out of the parking lot. As she was driving home, she
thought about the nice young man in the store again…
I should have at least asked him his name…it's common courtesy. James is always lecturing me about having good manners in public. Then again, he would probably have had a fit if he saw how attractive that man was, and the way he was looking at me...I really should have asked him his name. It would be nice to actually know people around here…
Who am I kidding? I'll never see him again…
End of part one…you can
probably guess that they're going to meet up again. Will she tell him that
she's married? Will he tell her that he is a
mutant? Will they give in to mutual attraction? And will her husband find out
if they do? Tips, suggestions, feedback is welcome as always. But you know, my
stories almost always have an unhappy ending…(poor Bobby)
