Chapter 7: Accident

Jubilee looked up as the big man marched across the floor toward her. "Hey, Moose," she greeted him with a smile.

He opened his arms wide. "Hey, little Lady," he said. "No big hug for yer ol' pal Moose?" She put down her drink and stood up to hug him, but even he could tell it wasn't her usual enthusiastic hug. He held her at arms length, studied her. "Bin a while since you been here," he said. "Seen ya on TV savin' that planeful'a people. Yer a pretty powerful gal, all right, and I glad I'm on yer side!"

"Thanks, Moose," she said quietly, sitting back down. He was about to turn around and head back to the bar when he heard her mutter, "Least someone does."

He turned back around and squeezed his big frame into the seat across from her. "Alright, little Lady, I know you're not all right now," he said, leaning over the table and folding his arms on the surface. He dropped his jovial rough-dude façade. "Want to tell your friend Moose about it?"

"Nah," Jubilee tossed back the rest of her drink. "Nothing you could do about it anyway."

"Try me," he said, sitting back and wrapping his ankles around the base of the table.

Jubilee shook her head. "No."

He looked at her for a moment, thoughtfully, then took a guess. "What's Logan done now?" He rethought that. "Or not done?"

She looked up, startled. "How'd you know?"

He knew he'd hit the nail--if not on the head, then pretty close to it. He also caught the almost unconscious twisting of the ring on her finger. He studied it out the corner of his eye, watching her at the same time. Pretty. Gold, with little blue sapphires the same color as her eyes. He could guess where that had come from. "The ring," he said. "Must be pretty serious if he's proposing to you, Lady, and I think you should accept. From what I've seen you love him, and I know he loves you from what he's said to me the few times I've seen him since you…introduced…me to him."

"No!" Jubilee brought her fist down on the table in a pounding smash, and made the glasses jump. "That's the problem, Moose, he hasn't proposed to me. Yesterday was my twenty-fifth birthday. He bought me a motorcycle." She hiccuped. "There wasn't a present for me from him in the pile of gifts my friends gave me, and when I asked him he took this little box out of his pocket. I was so sure it was a ring; I was all excited when I opened it…and inside was a little silver key." She hiccuped again, her eyes filling with tears as she choked out, "He'd bought me a motorcycle. Exactly like his. We have his-and-hers bikes, jackets, and helmets now…but we don't have his-and-hers rings yet, and oh, Moose, that's the one thing I really, really want more than anything else right now!" And now the tears spilled down over her cheeks as she started to cry.

Moose got up, squeezed himself into the seat beside her, and pulled her to him, wrapping his big arms around her and whispering soft sounds into her ears. When he saw a man at a nearby booth look at them, he said to her, "We're attracting too much attention here, Lady, let's go outside where we can talk."

Jubilee stood up, slapped a twenty on the table to pay for her drinks and walked outside with him. Moose lit up a cigarette as they leaned up against the side of the building, avoiding the river of rain running down from the roof. For a while all he did was stand and smoke, hugging her shoulders to him as she sobbed softly. When she finally sniffled into silence, he said, "He's just got to do it in his own time, little Lady. Guys like us don't like to get hurried along. How long have you known him, anyway?"

"Since I was fourteen." And then, since he didn't seem to have to go anywhere, Jubilee began to pour out hers and Logan's history together.

Moose listened in silence as she told him about how her parents had died, how she'd arrived at the mansion, how Logan had taken her under his wing and taught her how to take care of herself. How she'd been there, for him, always, through everything, and finally, she quietly told him about Bastion. About the hurt and anger and anguish she'd felt, that for all the times she'd been there for him, the one time she really needed him he hadn't been there for her. He read between the lines, piecing together what he'd heard from the news about the man named Bastion's vendetta, and how he hated mutants, and tried to picture his little Lady in the clutches of the madman. The picture he got was more complete than Jubilee realized, and his big fist clenched as he realized just how much she'd been hurt.

For all she'd gone through, she was an incredibly strong, smart, sassy girl. Again, as he looked at the short little Asian woman beside him, Moose felt again a pang of regret for his own life. He'd had a chance; in high school he'd dated for a long time a spunky, sassy little thing like Jubilee; he'd been tempted to propose to her, but never got up the nerve. Then one night she'd been driving down the road when a couple of street racers had streaked through the intersection where her car had stalled. And that had been it. She had died, of course; it was the natural result of getting your Camry plowed into by two nitro-fueled souped-up Acuras going ninety miles an hour. He'd run off and joined the military after that, in an attempt to get away from the grief he'd felt. He did a tour of duty, decided he didn't like it, and got out as soon as Desert Storm was over.

Now he worked in a small motorcycle shop he owned during the day and worked a pool stick in the bars during the night. He lived in a loft over the small garage he owned and made his drinking money from; not that he really needed it, since what he won in all the pool games was more than enough to cover his meager living expenses and his drinking. He didn't drink to drunkenness; he drank to take the edge off the sadness he felt at the paucity of his life. The only time he felt alive, felt like he had a purpose, was when he was picking bar fights.

Until recently. The little spitfire he'd met at Rex's that one night had fleeced him, pure and simple. All that evening, even as his anger mounted at the way she'd neatly cleaned him out he'd been admiring her spunk and sass. He'd admired her even more when he'd thrown a punch at her and she'd ducked out of the way. He'd been appalled at himself afterward; he'd never hit a woman in his life, and he'd sworn to himself he never would. After that, he'd hung out at Rex's till she came back, and he'd apologized. She had taken his apology like a lady, smiling at him and bought him that night's drinks, and they'd been firm friends after that.

Then one week he suddenly seemed to run into her at every bar that had a pool table, and he'd sworn that she was following him until he stopped her outside Crossroads one night and asked her why she was following him. She'd laughed, and explained she was trying to raise enough money to buy a gift for a very close friend of hers. He'd been intrigued when he learned it was a male friend she was trying to buy for, and even more interested when she told him the price of the gift she wanted to buy. Had she only known it, he could have given her every penny of the money she needed right there, but he'd restrained himself because she brought a kind of joy to his life he hadn't felt in a long while. The week they'd spent bar-hopping, cleaning out every poor fool who thought that the two of them were easy pickings, had been one of the most memorable he'd spent in his life. Then, at the end of the week when they'd counted up their winnings, he realized it wouldn't make half of what she needed. He'd gone into his bank and flustered the teller half out of her wits when he made a withdrawal to cover what remained of the money Jubilee had needed for what she wanted to get.

He was very seldom at his bank; what he needed usually came out of the till at his garage, and his friend at the garage, Tony, usually took the cash to the bank and deposited it into the garage's accounts. Moose hadn't bothered to look at his bankbooks in quite a while; he knew, with a certainty, that there was quite a nice balance in both the garage account and in his personal account. He didn't spend much; the only thing he had that required any money was his bike, and that only cost him parts; he did all the work on his bike himself. His income was at least double what he spent every month; and he'd started seriously considering what to do with all his money after Tony had retired. After Jubilee had left, he'd been seized with a sudden inspiration and had gone to a lawyer. Jubilee didn't know it, but she was going to get everything he had when he finally went on to raise hell in heaven.

After that, knowing he now had someone to plan for, to care for, he'd started planning his spending and income more carefully. He just wished he could be there when his lawyer handed her the copy of the will that said she owned a garage, his bike, and almost three hundred thousand dollars.

And he'd been surprised as hell when he found out she'd taken up with his old barfighting opponent. Of all the people he could see her with, Logan wasn't the first one that came to mind. She had asked him, almost jokingly, if he thought she'd fall for one of the soft boys at college. He hadn't told her that he had indeed thought that. Despite her sass, he still couldn't see her spending the rest of her life down here in the dirt and sordidness of seedy two-bit trashy bars. She was made for better stuff than that.

He was going to have it out with Logan, he thought grimly as Jubilee bid him goodbye and headed out into the rain to where her bike was parked.

His opportunity came sooner than he thought it would. About half an hour after the little Lady'd left, the devil himself walked into the bar. He took a quick look around, spotted Moose, and headed for him. "Hey," Logan tapped Moose's shoulder where he sat at the bar. "Ya seen Jubes?"

Moose took a long swallow of his beer, finishing it in one last gulp, then seized Logan's arm in a vise-like grip. Logan growled and swung at Moose. Moose dodged it and bashed a fist into Logan's nose. After that, he didn't care where the punches landed; he was going to pound some sense into Logan's head. He gave as good as he got; by the time the bouncers got them both outside, both men were groaning form an assortment of bruises, cuts, scrapes, and scratches. He noticed that Logan hadn't popped those deadly silver claws Moose had seen several times in the past, though.

They both sat outside, watching the rain and panting heavily from the fight. Logan recovered first and said, "Jubilee's gonna have our hides fer beatin' the crap outta each other."

"I know," Moose groaned. "I hadda, though."

"Ya hadda? Why?" Logan looked at Moose in surprise.

"Cause ya hurt her, bastard," Moose growled, opening the one eye he could still see out of. The other had been at the receiving end of one of Logan's fists a few minutes back. "She was in here earlier, cryin' her eyes out over a drink 'bout her birthday present."

"Cryin'?" Logan sat up. "Thought she liked the bike!"

"She did. She liked the fact that she an' you's got his-and-hers bikes, jackets, and helmets. What she was cryin' 'bout was that ya all ain't got his-and-hers finger ornaments."

"Finger ornaments?"

Moose groaned and buried his face in his hands. "My god. I dunno how she puts up wit' ya!" He sat up. "Yeah, dude. Finger ornaments. Ya know, the kind what gets exchanged in front of a minister? The kind that come with the words 'I do'?"

"Oh. Them kind." Logan sat back against the side of the building. "It's just…I ain't sure it's what she wants, y'know? We only been an 'item', as they been callin' us at home, since June. 'S only been five months. Before then, she was globe trottin', an' I didn't see a whole lotta her. I known her since she was a kid; I still ain't sure what she feels ain't obsession, or if it's really love, y'know? I don't want her ta make a mistake."

Moose reached over and smacked his fist into Logan's forehead. It hurt his fist like hell; but Logan's head bounced back from his fist and struck the wall. That was worth the sore fist.

"Ow! What the hell was that fer?" Logan rubbed the back of his head.

"Fer bein stupid!" Moose hauled Logan to his feet. "What the hell makes ya think she's makin' a mistake? Ya gotta be the blindest damn bat I ever seen! She loves ya! She ain't had no thought in her head fer anyone but you ever since I known her. I tried ta get with her once, an' she didn' wanna have nothin' ta do wit' me!" He growled. "Do yerself a favor, and propose to the girl 'fore ya regret it. Look, Logan, I dated a girl in high school just like the little Lady. Carly was the light o' my life; never wanted ta go out wit' no one but her. If I'd'a proposed when my heart tol' me to, I'd probably be married right now, with a pack o' brats and possibly grandbrats. Instead I'm out here pickin' fights and livin' in a loft over my shop 'cause I waited too long. There was a car accident one night; coupla street racers plowed inta her car. She died instantly. There ain't never been nobody fer me since her, an' there never will be. I didn't know what I had till it was gone. Don't let that happen to ya, man. Or to the little Lady. I like ya both, an' I care 'bout her, an' I hate seein' a woman cry. 'Specially her. So go find her and tell her ya gonna marry her." He raised a fist. "'Fore I hit ya again."

Logan stood up. "All right, all right! I'm goin! Don't haveta hit me again! How long ago was she here?"

Moose stuck his head in the bar and took a quick gander at the clock on the wall. "'Long 'bout an hour and a half by now."

Logan growled, dug some change out of his pocket and went to the pay phone. He picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and waited. "Jean?" he said when the other end picked up. "Listen, is Jubes home yet?" Silence for a time. "Yeah, I'm here at Rex's with her friend Moose, and he says she was going like an hour and a half ago. She ain't home yet?" short pause. "Okay. I'll find her an' bring her home." He hung up, looking grim. "She ain't home yet," he said. "Usually she comes home right after one o' these bar-hoppin' nights. I gotta go find her." He jumped into his pickup truck.

"I'll go with ya," Moose said flatly, getting in the passenger side. Logan was too worried to demur.

They first took the route Logan knew Jubilee used to go home. No Jubes. Past Harry's. No Jubes. Logan stopped at Crossroads and stuck his head in, asking the bartender if he'd seen Jubilee. Nope. He was starting to get desperate.

Half an hour later, he was past desperate and well into afraid. Although the big man didn't show it as much, Logan could tell that he felt it too. They were cruising down an alley not far from Rex's when Logan saw the distinctive red color of Scott's Mustang, and he sped up to pull up beside Jean and Storm. "Where's yer Miata?" he called to her.

Jean leaned out the window. "Rogue's checking downtown in it," she said. "Scott's in the Cobra. We took the Mustang." She stopped abruptly as she saw the other occupant of the truck. "Hello," she said pleasantly, if briefly.

"Jean, this is Moose. He's a friend of Jubilee's. Moose, this is Jean, Jubilee's best friend." Moose nodded to Jean. Then he had a thought.

"Hey. One time when the little Lady got too drunk to go home I took her to my loft and let her sleep it off there," he said. "It was a few years ago, but I'll bet not a lot gets by her. She might still remember how to get there, and she knows where I hide the spare key. Can we check?"

"Sure." Logan said amiably, and turned the truck down the winding turns and alleys until they reached Moose's Motorcycle Mania. Logan's heart almost stopped when he saw the battered, beat-up motorcycle lying on its side in front of the door. He jumped out of the cab, followed closely by Moose, and took the external steel steps up to the loft two at a time. The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open slowly.

Jubilee lay in the middle of the floor in a small pool of her own blood. The smears from the front door to where she was, and the outstretched hand, showed she'd been trying to reach the phone and had never made it. Moose took her shoulders gently, rolled her over. Her clothes were torn, and she was bleeding from a deep knife stab under her ribs. Her purse was gone. Logan bent over her, checked her breathing, and then cried urgently, "Jubes! Jubilee! Come on, darlin', wake up! Jubes!"

The eyelashes fluttered, and the blue eyes opened. "Logan?" she whispered. "Logan, oh, help, please, I hurt…owwww…" she moaned. The eyes closed, and no amount of shaking was going to wake her up again. Logan slid an arm under her knees, lifted her gently in his arms, and stood up. "I gotta take her home," he said grimly. Moose looked at him doubtfully.

"She really needs a hospital, Logan."

"We got the best medical care in the world right at home," Logan growled. "Trust me. I'll call ya when we know what happened and if she's okay."

"I'll take care of her bike," Moose said as he held open the truck door for Logan to ease his unconscious burden inside. "Call me, Logan, please," he said worriedly as Logan slammed the door. Logan nodded and got in, roaring away from the man standing beside the battered motorcycle. Moose watched them out of sight, and bent over the cycle, picking it up and wheeling it in as best as he could into his garage.