Summary: Jubilee tells Wolverine about William.
Author's Notes: I know it was a long time coming, but it's here at last : )
Feedback is appreciated, and you should know by now that it motivates me to write. : )
Chapter 2: The Boy
"Checkmate."
"Oh, shit."
Hank McCoy reached over and collected the four chessmen won from him by his opponent, then began to reset the board. "You know, Jubilation, if the effort you put into your vocabulary in any way reflects the effort you put into your strategy…"
Jubilee crossed her arms and stuck her lower lip out. "You suck, McCoy."
Hank's eyes sparkled quiet amusement behind his spectacles. "Even if I did, dear girl, it would be a matter entirely of personal choice."
"Ew."
"Yeah, nice, Blue." Jubilee and Hank turned to see Logan sauntering out of the kitchen, munching a sandwich and smirking. "Kick your ass again, darlin'?" he added conversationally, glancing at Jubilee.
Jubilee slouched lower in her seat and scowled. "Shut up," she muttered petulantly.
Logan's grin widened, and he ruffled her hair as he passed. "Sore loser," he teased.
"Learned from the best!" Jubilee yelled at his back, but was answered only by the soft click of the door as it closed on rumbling laughter.
Jubilee turned back to Hank. "I want a rematch," she demanded.
Hank sighed. "Another one? Have your repeated verbal attacks not sufficiently damaged my self-esteem?"
"I haven't called you that many names," Jubilee retorted, somehow managing to look simultaneously offended and amused. "You're not the one—" She broke off abruptly and fell silent.
Hank glanced up. Jubilee's lips had fallen open; her gaze had gone slightly fuzzy and had drifted off to some point right of Hank's head. He recognized the 'Professor's-paging-me' look and smiled.
After a moment Jubilee's eyes snapped back into focus. "Sorry. Chuck wants to talk to me. Think he was listening in on the game? I don't want another lecture about my language."
Hank rolled his eyes. "That was nine years ago, Jubilation. You were only twelve, and I hardly think using the word 'fuck' in every other sentence was appropriate behavior."
Jubilee gaped at Hank, then burst out laughing. "I love you, McCoy. You can even make a swear word sound scholarly." She got up, adding sternly, "And this doesn't mean you're exempt from that rematch. Me and my chessboard will catch up to you, and when we do—" she jabbed an emphatic finger at Hank—"be afraid."
"My chessboard and I," Hank corrected automatically, but he was smiling as he watched her leave.
***
Jubilee drummed her fingers on the Professor's office door, out of courtesy more than necessity. It was a gesture she considered polite, if a little pointless.
*Come in, Jubilee.*
She opened the door. "Hi. You rang?"
"That I did. Have a seat." Xavier smiled and gestured at the armchairs by his desk. Jubilee dropped into the seat nearest the door and raised her eyebrows.
"Well, what's happening? If this is about the mayonnaise incident, I swear I had no idea what was going on."
Xavier laughed. "No, and I'll thank you not to bring that up again in my presence. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat potato salad again. How are you, Jubilee?"
"Not bad." She grinned. "McCoy's been beating me at chess all morning. I think I've taken maybe ten of his pieces in four games."
Xavier lifted an eyebrow. "I know. About your language—"
"I knew it!"
"Only joking, Jubilee." Xavier leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk. "Actually, I asked you to come so that we could discuss a new student to the school."
Jubilee brightened. "Ooh. Rad. I love new kids."
"I know." Xavier's lips quirked upwards. "That's why I am consigning him to your care."
The grin froze on Jubilee's face. "Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait just one sec." She threw her hands up, palms out, as though fending off an attack. "You don't want me to baby-sit."
"Not at all." The Professor smiled. "William Mulder is twelve years old and completely capable of attending to his own personal needs. You will simply be aiding his adjustment to the school—showing him around the grounds, introducing him to the other children, ensuring that he finds his classes on Monday, that sort of thing. You'll be acting as an older sibling of sorts."
"You know, when I was twelve, I would have loved to have a sister old enough to buy me beer," Jubilee remarked thoughtfully.
"Jubilee…" Xavier warned.
"Kidding!" Jubilee smiled. "Of course I can do that. Sounds like fun."
"I thought you'd enjoy it." Xavier hesitated. "There are, however, a number of special circumstances of which you ought to be informed."
"Aren't there always?" Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Lay it on me. Can't be any worse than pulling Kit-Kat out from under her bed in the middle of the night."
"These circumstances have little to do with William, actually." He paused again. "Twelve years ago, the United States government was placed under intense scrutiny for its endorsement of a long-term project aimed at creating transgenic humans. Do you remember hearing about that?"
Jubilee nodded, looking confused. "Yeah. Project X, or whatever, right?"
"So it was dubbed by the Times, yes, though little information about the project's true focus was revealed to the media. The public was told that a handful of rogue scientists used embryonic stem cells to create humans with a mutated X-gene—artificial mutants, if you will. In reality, the project encompassed much more. There were, at one point, eight different sites in the United States devoted to engineering these transgenic embryos."
"Wow."
"Indeed. The scientists working on the project were not simply assessing the survival rates and phenotypic effects of knockout humans, as they claimed. Their goal was to create invulnerability—a walking weapon."
Jubilee's jaw dropped. Her eyebrows, which had been slowly creeping higher and higher on her forehead, were now at approximately the level of her hairline. "You're joking."
"I wish I was. It gets worse." Xavier rubbed a hand across his lips. "One of the great lies told to the press was about the very essence of the engineering. Yes, there were attempts to replace normal X-genes with mutated ones, but that was fifteen years ago—long after the project began."
Xavier answered Jubilee's question before she had the chance to ask it. "The DNA originally used in the embryos was not harvested from Homo superior. It belonged to an extraterrestrial species."
"What? You mean, like the Shi'ar?"
Xavier shook his head. "No, not at all. These species were not even humanoid, and their contact with Earth was by no means voluntary."
"You mean—" Jubilee's eyes rounded. She didn't finish her sentence, but Xavier nodded anyway.
"The infamous Roswell incident of the 1950s was not a hoax, in other words," he continued, "nor was the ship uninhabited. The government found the occupants of the ship interesting not only because they were aliens—"
"Well, duh." Jubilee recovered from her shock long enough to roll her eyes.
"—but also because they seemed impossible to kill, though the impact should have destroyed both their ship and them. Remember, this happened during the Red Scare, a time when nations were intensely fearful of their enemies. Because of this, the government's first instinct was to use its find to its advantage.
"Scientists gleaned every bit of knowledge they could from the spacecraft—engineers analyzed it day and night, drawing schematics and trying to reproduce its structure. Biologists of the day knew little about genetics—the technology was very limited, and you recall that Watson and Crick's model of DNA was not widely recognized until 1962. They knew, though, that the matter of which the creatures were composed was unlike anything they had ever encountered, and it had to be preserved. And so it was, and when the technology caught up, geneticists began to attempt to splice the alien genetic material with the DNA of humans." Xavier's lips tightened. "Of course, the first problem was acquiring human gametes. In some cases, sperm were purchased anonymously through sperm banks. Eggs, on the other hand, were not as easy to obtain.
"All of the eggs and some of the sperm used in the project were taken from women and men who had been abducted by government employees."
The blood drained from Jubilee's face. She looked stricken.
"How can people not know about this?" she cried. "It's horrible!"
"Few people do," Xavier replied. "Jubilee, you must realize that the government is a very powerful entity, and we are only aware of a fraction of what goes on behind its doors. I do remember an incident—oh, it must be eighteen or twenty years now—wherein one of the Presidential advisers, Craig Harrison, decided to take it upon himself to stop the project. It was reported that he died quietly in his sleep. Heart attack."
It took a split second to sink in, then Jubilee's eyes widened.
"Exactly how I felt," Xavier said. "There were, no doubt, countless other deaths like his of which I am not aware. My sources do not tell me everything, and I am grateful for that."
"But how can they do that? How can they—" Jubilee broke off, looking frustrated and upset.
Xavier just gazed at her sadly. "The government keeps its secrets," he said.
For a moment, there was silence.
"The abductees were categorized," Xavier continued after a moment. "Many times the victim would be returned—with his or her memory altered, by drugs or hypnosis or both—but occasionally his or her gametes would be required a second time, sometimes a third or fourth. To track the donor, a small metal implant was placed somewhere in his or her body—in the nasal cavity, the abdomen, sometimes the back of the neck. If the chip were removed, the person would succumb to some horrific disease—cancer, autoimmune disease, deterioration of the central nervous system. It was, I suppose, a means of keeping the victims quiet and eliminating those who wanted to fight back.
"Sixteen years ago, it was revealed to the public that the X-gene was mutating in more and more children, but project scientists had little use for the abilities of Homo superior. By that time, they had created hundreds of clones with integrated alien DNA; these beings were infinitely loyal to their creators and did most of the government's dirty work. The project had no need for 'natural' mutants—their creations were much more advanced.
"That is, until they heard of one particular mutant who was near invulnerable, who could heal in mere seconds. Who was being held by the Canadian government."
Jubilee clapped her hands over her mouth. "Wolvie!"
"Yes. Logan, known then as Weapon X, belonged, essentially, to Canada. But the US government and its project wanted him. You see, their human-alien hybrids had a few faults. For one, their blood identified them—it was alien blood, it was green, and it killed whomever it touched."
Wide blue eyes met Xavier's solemn grey ones. "God."
"Secondly, the hybrids had an odd vertebral structure. Their bones were composed of the same material as the bones of their alien mothers, so to speak—a kind of organic steel, not unlike that of Peter's armored form—and the bones showed sharply through their skin. Thus, they could be picked out in a crowd by anyone with a little bit of knowledge and sharp eyes, and there was inherent danger in allowing them to wander among humans—what if their blood were to touch someone and inadvertently cause his or her death? In a public place, that could cause a scene and a scandal, and the government certainly didn't want any more of those.
"Thus, the American government wished to splice Wolverine's DNA with the DNA of a human and the genetic material of an alien, in the hopes that his genes would eliminate the physical flaws. They struck a deal with the Canadian government and exchanged a substantial amount of money for Wolverine."
Jubilee looked thoughtful. "But if they needed him so badly, why did they let him go? You can't tell me they've been just letting him roam around the US and Canada without knowing he was there."
"They didn't. After the creation of these double-transgenics, the project was exposed." Xavier took a deep breath. "Wolverine's DNA was spliced into the DNA of twenty-five embryos, which were subsequently implanted back into the twenty-five women from which the eggs were harvested. One of the women was a Special Agent in the FBI. The sperm that fertilized her egg was from the man who would be her husband. Both were abductees, though the man escaped the fate of the implant. Their child was the only surviving alien-mutant-human hybrid.
"He was tested at birth, and his karyotype was completely normal. When his DNA was examined more closely, no genetic markers from the alien DNA were found. The scientists concluded that he had simply survived the interference effect that had proven lethal to the other embryos, and they let him and his mother go. Their decision was, no doubt, heavily influenced by the information leak that resulted in the project's shutdown; the media was on the alert." Xavier gave Jubilee a funny little smile. "The boy about whom I've been speaking is, of course, William Mulder."
Jubilee ran both hands through her hair, looking stunned and bewildered. "So this kid is—is Wolvie's son? Sort of? Isn't the government going to be chasing him down and taking him back to one of their places?"
Xavier shook his head. "Only the remaining supporters of the project—the real zealots—and a few higher-ups in the government prove dangerous to William, because they can't forget what he is. Although they will be on the lookout if they catch wind of his situation, he should be safe here; they have no secure place in which to test him, because if you visit any of the sites now, you'll find absolutely nothing. The government completely demolished them years ago to cover its tracks. The only physical evidence of the existence of the project is a small site at Alkali Lake in Canada, and even that is almost totally destroyed. That was where Wolverine discovered the information about his sale to the United States. However," he cautioned, "he knows nothing of this boy, who is not, technically, his son, but who does share a portion of his DNA. Enough to create a mutation very similar to Wolverine's."
Jubilee exhaled loudly. "Whoo. This is a lot to process."
"I know." Xavier looked sympathetic. "I am entrusting this task to you because you get along well with children, and you are closest to Wolverine. I had hoped that you might form a bridge between him and William."
Nodding thoughtfully, Jubilee replied, "I suppose I can try. Am I supposed to tell him that huge story about the kid?"
"Well, you don't have to tell the huge version." Xavier chuckled. "But when Wolverine sees the boy, and his mutation, he will want an explanation."
"Sure." Jubilee settled back in her chair and shook her head. "Man. Wolvie's gonna flip." Then she glanced up at Xavier. "Do you mind if I head out for a while? I want to take a walk and think about all this."
"Of course I don't mind." Xavier smiled.
"When will he get here?"
"Tomorrow, around two. His parents will be coming too, of course; they want to see the school for themselves."
"Wait."
"Yes?"
"Do his parents know about what their kid's, um, made of?" Jubilee crossed her arms. "'Cause I don't know them, and I don't really want to be the one to break it to 'em."
"Jean and I informed them of the situation when the second time we met with them." Xavier paused. "They took it…well…considering the circumstances…but when they arrive, I think it would be prudent if the situation were mentioned as minimally as possible."
Jubilee nodded and got to her feet.
"Thanks for tellin' me, Professor. Thanks a lot." She watched him anxiously. "I'll do the best I can with him."
"I know you will. Oh, and Jubilee?"
"Yeah?" She half-turned.
The Professor smiled at her. "Thank you. And good luck."
"Sure." Jubilee paused, as though she wanted to say something else, then decided against it. "See you, Professor."
"Good-bye, Jubilee."
"I wonder if he looks like Wolvie," she muttered, then closed the door behind her.
Jubilee wandered the grounds aimlessly, first thinking about what Xavier had told her and then thinking about nothing at all. The weather was surprisingly warm for April, so she went down to the lake and sat on the dock.
"Suck," she muttered, flopping back onto the sun-warmed wood. How was she supposed to break it to Logan that they'd used his DNA to manufacture a child? That wasn't news you expected anyone to take well, let alone Wolverine. And hot damn, aliens. Human genetics was a bitch in and of itself; if they started offering ET genetics at her university, she was definitely not signing up for it.
"Thanks a lot, Xavier," she said out loud. "Single-handedly destroy my trust in the government in one afternoon, why don't you."
"That's quite an accomplishment," said a voice.
Jubilee sat up and turned. "Oh. Hey, Bobby." She raised her eyebrows. "Nice ensemble."
Bobby glanced down at his rolled-up jeans and leather sandals. "What?"
"You look like a Norman Rockwell. What are you doing, anyway?"
Bobby brandished his fishing pole. "Fishing. Duh." He kicked off his sandals and sat down, then opened his tackle box and began threading bait onto a hook. "If you want to join me, there're more fishing poles in the boathouse."
"I'll pass, thanks." Jubilee watched him cast his line into the water and tuck the pole handle into a small knothole that had been carved into the wood. "You know, when and if you catch a fish, you're going to have to, like, de-gut it."
"Yeah. So?"
"You're going to have to touch it." Jubilee made a face.
Bobby began to laugh. "Aw, is ickle Jubiekins afwaid of a widdle fishie?"
"I'm afraid of being the de-gutter after you flake out," Jubilee replied, smirking.
"Woman, I have never flaked out in my life." Bobby drew himself up indignantly. "I am the pinnacle of manliness. Now go and fetch me a beer."
"I will do no such thing, Caveman Ug." Jubilee bopped him on the head with one of his sandals.
"Ow! Ow! No hit! No hit!" Bobby cringed away.
"Wimp," Jubilee teased, laughing. She got to her feet. "Some pinnacle. I'll talk to you later, Bobbo."
"Hey, wait a sec!" Bobby grabbed at her ankle. "You never told me what happened with the Professor."
"I told you. He single-handedly ruined my opinion of the powers that be."
Bobby clutched at his chest. "Holy tomato! You mean to tell me there are young people out there who don't like our great government? Somebody get me a defibrillator, I think my Young Republican heart is going to give out." He fell over sideways on the dock.
"Flamin' conservatives." Jubilee grinned and nudged him in the shoulder with her foot.
"Damn whippersnapper liberals," Bobby countered. He sat up. "Really. What happened? Did he tell you he's really an undercover spy? Is he paying off the senator? Wait—I know! He's working for the CIA!"
"None of the above, you psycho."
"Revolutionary."
"Reactionary."
"Paranoiac."
"Scott Summers."
"Hey!" Bobby put his hands on his hips and adopted a convincingly Cyclopean expression. "I'll have you know that I am an exthtremely wild 'n' crazy guy. Latht week I didn't even iron my shorts."
Jubilee laughed. "That's so true, it's sad."
"Yeah, I know." Bobby leaned back on his hands and looked up at his friend. "So seriously, Jube. What's going on?"
"It's a long story, Bobby."
Bobby took a speculative look at his pole, then at the lake. "Like I'm going anywhere?"
"Good point." Jubilee heaved a sigh and dropped back onto the dock. "Listen, you can't tell anyone this, okay?"
"Sure."
"Well, there's this kid…"
A half-hour later Bobby was still goggling. "Jeez, Jube, when you said the Professor made you hate the government, I didn't think he really made you hate the government."
Jubilee shrugged. "I suppose I'm just disillusioned."
"Big word for a small fry." Bobby quirked a smile at his partner in crime, who stuck her tongue out at him. "Seriously. They, like, made this kid from Wolverine's genes? That's so weird. Seriously." Bobby couldn't seem to articulate his amazement.
"Your eloquence is overwhelming."
"Shut up," Bobby said, without much conviction. "Okay, so now I know the story, but how are you?"
"Me?" Jubilee shrugged. "Peachy as ever. I'm a tough cookie." She bared her teeth. "See?"
Bobby slung an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, yeah," he said, smiling. "Loser."
"Takes one to know one."
"And damn proud of it." He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Well, you'll spill sometime. I'm not catching anything," he added, "so you wanna take in some Tekken?"
"You're on." Jubilee leapt lightly to her feet as Bobby reeled in his line, and they walked up the hill in companionable silence.
***
"You're avoiding him."
Jubilee glanced up to see Bobby in the doorway of her bedroom, arms folded, frowning at her. She looked back down at her book and shrugged. "So?"
"You're so fake, it makes me want to puke." Bobby came in and sat down on the bed next to her. "I know you're worried about telling him."
"Am not."
Bobby reached over and gently took the book away from her. "You are, twit, and you should just do it and get it over with."
Jubilee stuck her lower lip out and blew a strand of hair away from her forehead. "It's not really that big a deal."
"Yeah, right, drama queen. Let's go."
Jubilee crossed her arms. "Later."
"Ain't no time like the present, Jube. I saw him heading downstairs to the Danger Room about an hour ago. If you're lucky, you can catch him on his way out."
"But Bobby—"
Bobby reached down, grabbed Jubilee's wrists, and hauled her to her feet. "Now," he said gently.
Sulking, Jubilee stalked out. "Meanie," she muttered over her shoulder. Bobby just smiled.
She caught up with Logan on his way out of the Danger Room, just as Bobby had predicted she would. "Hey, Wolvie," she called.
Logan stopped, turned, and saw her. "Hi, darlin'," he said. He grinned at her. "How many games this time?"
"Four." Jubilee began to walk with him toward the showers, staring at her feet, unable to think of anything else to say.
Logan, watching his partner scuff along in silence, cuffed her on the shoulder. "You okay?"
"Me? Oh, sure. Super." Jubilee stopped at the shower room door and shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Hey, are you gonna be in there long?"
"Am I ever?" Logan leaned against the door, but didn't go in. "What's goin' on, Jube?"
She glanced up at him then, and he was surprised at the troubled look in her blue eyes. "Yeah. Um, I gotta talk to you after you're done anyway, so go ahead and shower, and I'll wait for you out here. 'Kay?"
Logan raised his eyebrows. "Sure."
He thought about the odd expression on her face while he was in the shower, and when he emerged again, toweling his hair dry, it hadn't changed. In fact, she seemed to wince when she saw him.
"I look that bad, huh?" he joked. He held his shirt out to Jubilee. "Hold this, will ya?"
Jubilee took it. "Nah. But Wolvie?"
"Yeah?" Logan finished drying his hair, slung the towel into an overflowing used-towel bin, and took his shirt back from Jubilee.
"Wanna take a walk?"
"Sure." Logan shrugged into the shirt and began buttoning it.
They walked outside in silence. Logan was the first to speak.
"So what's up?"
"Well…" Jubilee trailed off, looking uncertain. "The professor called me in this afternoon."
"Yeah?"
Jubilee scuffed at the grass as she walked, and it seemed as though she had to force her next words from her mouth. "You remember what you found at Alkali Lake? About…about when you moved to the US?"
Beside her, Logan tensed. This particular topic was not one of his favorites.
"Yeah," he grunted.
"See, Chuck told me that when they, um, brought you here, it wasn't just 'cause they wanted Weapon X. It was 'cause they wanted your DNA." Sparks dripped from Jubilee's fingers as she twisted her hands together anxiously.
"DNA?" Logan furrowed his brow. There was trepidation in his voice. "Why? Jube, what's this about?"
"They…See, there was this project." Jubilee put her head down and walked faster. "What they wanted to do was make…make…The professor called it a supersoldier. I mean, they didn't clone you or anything," she added hastily, seeing Logan's raised eyebrows, "but they did sort of…sort of use your DNA for a kid."
"What?" Logan stopped dead, grabbed Jubilee roughly by the shoulders, and spun her around to face him. "Say that again," he demanded.
"Wait, let me explain better." Jubilee looked panicked. "I mean—okay, look, Wolvie, they took some of your DNA and spliced it into a zygote—I mean, stem cells—whatever—I mean, it's only the X-gene—oh, shit, that wasn't any better," she said, distressed. "I'm sorry—he thought I'd do a better job than this—"
Logan wasn't paying attention; he was staring at the forest beyond Jubilee, an expression of blank shock on his face.
"Wolvie?" Jubilee said timidly, trying in vain to pry his right hand off her swiftly bruising arm. "Wolvie, you okay?"
He wasn't, she knew. Traveling to Alkali Lake hadn't quieted his demons; it had only put names with those ghostly faces of his nightmares. He'd been devastated when he'd discovered how the Canadian government had used him, and Jubilee feared he'd take this news no better.
"Wolvie?" she repeated. "Snap out of it."
This time Logan's eyes went to hers. She could see pain and barely-restrained rage roiling in their depths, but he didn't explode. Instead, he loosened his grasp and stepped back.
"What else?" His voice was low.
Jubilee reached out and took his hands in both of hers, which turned out to be a mistake, as his fingers immediately tightened again. "He's coming here, Wolvie. He's twelve years old and he's coming here. His name is William."
Logan's lips whitened, and he pulled back. "Gonna go for a walk," he muttered tightly.
"There's more I haven't told you yet—"
"Not now." He cut her off. "Ain't gonna do any good now. Can't handle it. Later."
Shoulders set, he stalked away.
Jubilee watched him disappear into the forest, tears of frustration flooding her eyes. She'd planned the whole speech down to the pauses for breath, but the minute she'd begun her story, it had fallen to pieces. She stomped toward a small tree and aimed a vicious kick at its trunk, which, as it turned out, gained her nothing but a sore foot. "Ow," she moaned miserably, sitting down hard.
A few minutes later, a voice called out to her. "Jubilee."
Jubilee looked up, startled. "Oh—Jean."
Jean sat down in the grass beside her teammate. "How are you?"
"Okay." Jubilee swiped at her teary eyes. "What're you doing out here?"
"You do realize I'm psychic, don't you?" Jean raised her eyebrows. "I came out to see if you were all right."
"So you already know about my stunning failure to break it to him gently." Jubilee put her head in her hands.
Jean put a reassuring hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "It was hard news to tell anyone, sweetie. You were fine. And he took it…" she paused. "…rather well."
"Right." Jubilee's voice was muffled.
"Look, do you think he would have kept his cool with anyone else? Remember when Professor Xavier told him the meaning of what he'd found in Canada?" She winced at the memory. "He wouldn't even have listened to me."
Jubilee raised her head and snorted loudly. "Oh. Double right. 'Cause he doesn't, like, worship you, or anything."
Jean's eyebrows knitted. "Hey, now—"
"Sorry," Jubilee apologized quickly. "I didn't mean that."
"S'okay. So how are you?"
Jubilee's shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. "Been better."
"And worse," Jean reminded her. She leaned back on her hands. "You want to talk about it?"
Her words brought a smile to Jubilee's lips. "Seems like everyone's askin' me that today," she commented, pulling up a handful of grass.
"Oh?" Perfectly plucked eyebrows arched. "Who?"
"Bobby." Jubilee scattered the grass. "I was nervous about tellin' Wolvie. Guess I had reason to be," she added, rolling her eyes.
"You were fine," Jean said again. "I know it's hard to give bad news to someone you care about."
"Hope he cools down before William gets here." Jubilee sighed. "Let's go back. I want to be there if he shows up."
"Sure." Jean stood and offered a hand, which Jubilee took. "He'll be fine. Besides—" she smiled briefly—"he didn't get to hear the end of the story."
"True." Jubilee rubbed absently at the sore spots on her shoulders. "Hey, Jean."
"Yeah?"
"How'd you find this kid?"
Jean shoved her hair back from her face. "He popped his claws at school, if you can believe that," she said with a wry little laugh. "Then he got expelled, which solved the transfer problem nicely. Real nice of those administrators."
"Claws." Jubilee shook her head in disbelief. "This is positively unreal."
"You're not used to it by now?" Jean teased.
"Touché."
They arrived back at the Mansion in time to see Hank emerge, blinking, into the sunlight. "Jubilee, there you are," he said, smiling. "How do you feel about a rematch?"
Jean, Jubilee thought, had obviously communicated to him how upset she'd been about the conversation with Logan. Though she usually objected to having her thoughts spread around the Mansion, she found, because it was Hank, that she didn't really mind. With a glance at Jean, who nodded briefly, she accepted.
They started off playing chess, but Jubilee's concentration was shot, and pretty soon they switched to cards. Before he knew it, Hank was dealing out poker hands to Scott, Remy, and Kitty, as well as Jean and Jubilee.
"Royal flush," Kitty announced two hours later, slapping her cards on the table. Her cheeks were flushed with triumph. "Beat that, Popsicle."
The blood drained out of Bobby's face. "Oh no."
Scott, who had folded two minutes into the deal, chuckled. "Very nice, Kitty."
Snickering, Kitty reached out and swept the pile of poker chips and bills toward her.
"Wait—Kitty—" Bobby had one hand out and was protesting feebly. "That's the last of my paycheck! Kitty!"
"Them's the breaks, kid," Kitty smirked, counting as she stacked. "Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two…That's thirty-five bucks you owe me, Bobby." She aimed a dazzling smile at Bobby, who was still stammering.
"Well, that's about it for me, all," Jubilee said while their attention was still focused on Kitty and Bobby. Jean glanced up with mild concern in her eyes, but Jubilee smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm headed to bed."
"Night, Jube," they chorused.
"Night," Jubilee replied, and trotted up the stairs to her room.
***
Logan stood at the edge of the woods bordering the lawn. He'd been wandering the grounds since early evening, when Jubilee had told him about the boy.
The boy.
At first he'd been furious. Consumed by rage, he'd taken his anger out on trees, rocks, anything upon which he could get his hands—or claws, for that matter. At last he'd collapsed, exhausted and sore; after that he'd simply lain on the grass with his eyes closed and his mind racing. Once he was collected enough to stand, he'd walked. For hours he'd traipsed through the thick forests on Xavier's property, and when he'd finally arrived back at the house, he was considerably calmer.
He felt slightly guilty for walking out on Jubilee like that, but she knew his long expeditions into the woods were cathartic, and he always came back to talk to her after he'd taken care of the anger.
For a moment he vacillated between going straight to her room and waiting until morning; it was late, after all, and she should, in an ideal universe, be asleep. Knowing her, though, she'd be restless and jittery—she always was, until she knew he was home safely.
That Jubilation, Logan thought, shaking his head. She drove him crazy sometimes with her constant worrying, but he had to admit that no one had ever cared about him quite like she did.
Sighing, he slipped quietly into the Mansion and went upstairs. Sure enough, the soft sounds of late-night TV were emanating from Jubilee's room. He tapped lightly on the door and heard her jump up, stumble, and curse. A split second later the door flew open. "Hi."
"Hi."
"C'mon in." Jubilee stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. "How are you?"
"Better." Logan eyed her up and down and felt doubly guilty when he saw the dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. "You should be asleep."
"Hah. Like we've never had this conversation before." Jubilee sat down on her bed, and Logan assumed his usual slouch in the desk chair. "I told ya before, I can't sleep when you're out roamin' around."
Logan made a noncommittal noise and crossed his arms. "What else is there?"
"Hm?" Jubilee looked momentarily thrown. "Oh. Hold on."
She reached for the remote control and muted the television, then sat looking at her hands.
"Jube." Did she need a reminder?
"Thinking." After a moment, Jubilee launched into her explanation. "I didn't do a very good job of telling you before," she said carefully, not looking at him, "so I don't want to screw this up again. I'll tell ya everything the Prof told me. Are you gonna be okay?"
"Not gonna up 'n leave again, if that's what you're asking," Logan replied gruffly.
"Right. So there was this project, okay, and they wanted to make an invincible soldier. And they had these aliens that crashed in the 1950s, but they were weird looking, so they needed to cover up their flaws." Jubilee recited this in a monotone, sounding as though she were reading from cue cards. "An' before they got shut down, they heard about you up in Canada with your healing factor. So they got the idea to put some o' your genes, the X-gene, I guess, into these hybrids they were building. 'Cause they wanted to make their alien-people more human, I guess. But they still had to be invincible. So they—" here she stumbled a little—"bought you and I guess what happened is they took some of your DNA and put it in some embryos or whatever, but only one of them survived, and right after he was born the project got shut down. So they let him and his mom go. And his name is William and he has claws like yours but his bones are different, and he just got expelled for being a mutant, I guess, and Chuck's afraid that people will come after him 'cause he's part alien and part mutant, so he's bringing him here and he wanted me to tell you 'cause he knew you'd wonder." This last part came out in a small verbal explosion. Jubilee tapped her fingers against her thighs and waited apprehensively for Logan's reaction.
After a long silence, Logan spoke. "So when's he gonna be here, then?" he asked, and Jubilee looked up in surprise at the evenness of his tone.
"Tomorrow. Strike that—later today," she corrected herself, glancing at the clock. "So you're okay?"
"Seems so." Logan exhaled loudly. "Gotta tell ya, though, darlin—if you ever spring somethin' like that on me again—"
"I won't. I promise. I'm sorry that went so badly. I was really scared," Jubilee confessed. "I was afraid you'd react—"
"Like I did," Logan interrupted her.
"Well—yeah."
He tried for a little smile. "You gonna be around tomorrow when he gets here?"
"'Course. The prof wants me to be his buddy. You know, show him around, all that."
Logan got up, shook his head hard, then sat down on the bed beside Jubilee. "Might need yer moral support," he joked, not really joking.
"'Course," she said again, looking up at him sideways. "Aren't I always?"
He slung an arm around her shoulders. "That ya are, darlin," he said, "that ya are."
***
Is this heading in a good direction? Let me know at janewestin@hotmail.com or leave a review…please, please, please.
