Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists.
12. A Bigger Picture
"Hey, there!"
Jubilee leaned onto the counter, her best smile stretching brilliantly while her eyes went over the well toned body barely hidden under the oh-so-tight T-shirt. And then the world had the indecency of claiming women buy clothes a size too small just to show off their bodies. As if guys didn't do the same. And they're worse about it too: women own up to their ploys, guys deny them.
"Three beers and one ginger ale," she said refocusing her gaze on the guy's beautiful… okay, his eyes were kind of a whatever nondescript colour, but he had that warm almost charming smile that made up for it. "The name's Jubilee, by the way. I'm celebrating with some friends."
"You chose the right place for it," he said and turned to get her drinks, giving Jubilee a great view of his shapely ass. "And the right night too: Mondays are slow here."
Great! Then he'd have more free time to spend on her. That is, on her drinks. Their drinks. Ah, whatever!
"Need help with that?"
Jubilee laughed, turning to Tom. "I got it covered. But since you're here, start hauling to the table and I'll be right there with you in a tiny lil' sec."
If only she wasn't wearing her mourning work-duds. She waited for Tom to pick two of the drinks and start off, then she sighed and picked the other two, lazily.
"Work pals," she added, hoping to dispel any misconception. "We're celebrating the successful… uh… end of a project."
The guy nodded, flashing that warm smile again but not giving any openings. Didn't even drop his own name. And why should he? He was advertising a first-grade bod, she… what was she advertising with that unimaginatively lose fitting grey T-shirt, the discrete and dismal-dark cargo pants (high waisted, obviously, God forbid anything else) and an equally social-space-clearing boring jacket? She was so fed up with this obsession for grieving working clothes. I mean, sure the powers that be didn't bug her to wear suits and whatever, but… she might as well be working at a mortuary! In fact, it was a miracle the guy'd even smiled at her. Oh, well… she'd be leaving town soon enough anyway.
"You sure took your sweet time," Tom grinned, which earned him an elbow to his shoulder.
"Just so ya know, mocking-ass, chatting to a friendly bartender can get you a couple free drinks."
Elton laughed. "I don't think you've chatted long enough for that."
No, she hadn't, so she just shrugged and lifted her beer. "Here's to a job well done!"
Both men lifted their beers with prompt cheer, and Amy Turin, with her ever-bored long face, sighed before joining the team with her glass of ginger ale. Jubilee would rather die before admitting she might half-envy her colleague's cool demeanor. Not that she'd ever want to look that aloof, or wear the array of perfectly feminine skirt-suits in colourless shades… although she could live with hair that always kept itself perfectly in place. Anyway, there was something commanding in her posture that did get some doors opened way fast. In a way, she half-reminded her of Monet back when, but with less arrogance in the mix.
"You nailed that guy like a pro, Amy," Jubilee said after swallowing a mouthful. "This would have been one way too long mess if you hadn't seen through that jerk's cover story."
The woman shrugged and sipped her drink half-heartedly, while checking her phone and texting a quick message.
"Not that you guys didn't do a good job yourselves," she added while twisting and signalling the bartender for another round of beers.
"But the tip was Amy's," Elton smiled at their colleague, raising his drink to her. "You look tired."
She shrugged once more, taking the phone off the table. "Headache."
Jubilee smirked. If they were to believe her, she'd be a medical curiosity: Ms. Cronic Headache. It was just her excuse for being the poster child of apathy. Whatever.
"Ol' Ray was pretty miffed, though," Tom chuckled. "If he had his way, you'd be stuck indoors all the time. What has he got against you, anyway?"
Amy shrugged and focused on her baby bird sipping. Jubilee, however, had her suspicions: there must be a typical high ranking asshole in the Bureau who knew Amy and wanted her protected inside a secured building as much as possible. Family, most likely. Once, Jubilee had almost stumbled upon a conversation that would have turned her suspicions to certainties, but, Amy Turin being her uptight self, she had quickly cut short her sizzling angry tirade and put an end to the phone conversation.
"We can't get rid of him soon enough," Tom carried on, grinning at Jubilee. "It's about time you turned 24."
She laughed as the bartender set the new drinks on the table.
"Amen to that!" Even if her birthday was still eight very long months away. "And we will have ourselves a celebration like no other in the bureau; and we can tell everyone it's nothing but a birthday celebration when in reality it'll be a…"
She lifted a signalling finger that had both guys chorusing as if they were choir boys: "Bye-Bye-Ray party!"
They all took long gulps from their beers, blessing the idea.
"Seriously, now," Tom said, "I'm glad I got assigned to your squad rather than Mantega's. She's what? 20? Those guys will be under Norton for years! And I hear he's a first grade dictatorial ass-hole. No one moves a finger without his permission."
Yeah, Old Raymond Chase was a walk in the park next to Norton. Jubilee took a long sip from the new beer and broke off with a loud sigh.
"But maybe you're right, Amy," she grinned. "It is late and we got an early flight tomorrow…"
"What?!" Tom chocked."It's barely 9pm!"
"Just in case you weren't aware, Tommy boy, that counts as late if you've been getting up at 6 and going to bed after midnight, which we all have been doing for, what, four days?"
"Six," Amy offered.
"Thank you," Jubilee got up with the rest of her beer in her hand. "I'll get us the tab while you finish those off."
The late May evening was surprisingly cool, even a bit windy, as the four walked up the street to their hotel. Then, out of nowhere, Amy stopped and claimed she'd forgotten her cell phone at the bar.
"Would you mind, Jubilee?"
Like, duh, obviously. Nevertheless, Jubilee smiled and curbed the will to check the time, even if she did set a quick pace. The moment they turned the first corner away, though, Amy stopped once more.
"What…" Jubilee turned, and sighed annoyedly as she realised the woman wanted to chat privately.
"I'm sorry," Amy started.
"No," Jubilee cut her off. "I'm sorry, but tonight is not a good night for whatever you want to preach."
Because Amy enjoyed preaching. Not often and not long, thank God for small favours, but she still enjoyed preaching.
"You don't have much time." Jubilee shook her head. What? "You're turning 24 next January, that's only half a year to go… and I don't know what you were told or promised or… but you must keep in mind that 24 is the minimum required age to join the FBI. Which implies a two year probationary period."
"Which will be over this summer!"
"That does not change the fact that no one becomes an agent before they're 26, and most people don't run off to join the Bureau the day they turn 24 either. It's not likely they'll let you become Squad leader in-fact next January. Not unless you've got someone pulling strings."
Jubilee bit her tongue not to say anything, not to react. She had thought about that before, obviously, but, naturally, she'd decided to take on an optimistic stance on the whole thing. Raymond Chase didn't enjoy babysitting the squad, that much everyone knew, and she was confident he'd give her a vote of trust when the day came. If there weren't any big shots against her taking over, that should be enough.
"And I know you don't."
Jubilee snorted and shook her head. "Geez, Amy! Do you really have to be so melodramatic and pessimistic about the whole thing? And tonight on top of it?"
"Why not tonight?" Jubilee rolled her eyes and looked away, ready to start walking back to the hotel no matter what else Amy had to say. "Listen to me! It's not going to happen!"
"If you're so worried we won't get rid of Old Ray next January," Jubilee snapped suddenly, "why don't you apply to be the next babysitter, huh?"
For once, Amy's composed mask fell slightly, showing confusion. "Why would I do that? I have no interest in being in charge." Then her eyes hardened and she recovered her poker face. "And just so you know, if I wanted out, I'd be applying for an analyst position."
"Ok, so let me get this straight: you lured me away from the guys to tell me it ain't likely Ray'll move on next January. Why? What's the big drama? So Ray will hang around for, what, another three… hey, let's be pessimistic! He'll stick around for another five, hell!, ten years! So what? He may be an ass but he doesn't make our lives shit."
Unlike Norton.
"Look, you need to change, Jubilee. You need to show the people in charge that you can be a part of the system."
Oh, she could so see where this was going. "Nope. I am not gonna wear no freaking suit. Forget about it!"
"It's not about clothes…"
Though the way her eyes went over Jubilee's outfit swore differently. Well, Jubilee had already given up colour for the system's sake. Ok, and to put an end to Ray's comments. But she drew the line at that; she was not on her way to become a 'suit'. Not gonna happen.
"You talk and act like a teenager," Jubilee almost choked at that. "I don't care about none of that, personally. You're a natural born leader and you do get the job done, that's what matters to me. But the people that make decisions, all they see is… is..."
Jubilee waited for it. "What?"
"They see an unreliable, immature former mutant. A female on top of it. No one is going to let you be in charge of anything, not while they see you like that. You could solve every case you get in three hours flat, they still wouldn't let you climb up. They're fine with giving you every honorary title they can think of, but they won't go beyond that."
Jubilee took a deep breath. Okay, so it was the pessimistic view she'd been trying to overlook. So what?
"And you're telling me all this 'cause?"
"Because I can see a bigger picture, while you're focusing on the here and now. I am devoted to the SPAD and although, right now, we're nothing but the black sheep in the Bureau family, the ones no one would mind if they fell through the cracks… Listen to me: if we play our hands right, we can make SPAD into something greater. We can make a difference. But not while we're all treated like children. What we need is strong leadership. Not Ray, not Norton, not anyone that doesn't have two feet in the mutant and former mutant world. And unless another candidate joins the game, you're the only person that fits the bill. Or will be, if you ever decide to grow up."
Jubilee's head jerked towards the watch on her wrist. It was almost 9.40. She took a deep breath.
"Your… stance… It isn't helping you. In fact, it's earning you many… I wouldn't say enemies, but opponents, definitely. This is a world of serious looking white never-been-mutant men that follow very strict rules. You're a happy-go-lucky Asian former mutant woman who shows nothing but contempt for the rules and who got pushed down their throats. If you don't start compromising…"
"You mean, if I don't start sucking up to them."
Amy shrugged. "We all have to make sacrifices in order to reach our goals."
9.40.
"Well, I'm tired, and you supposedly have a headache, so… goodnight."
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