Ma Soleil
Chapter Nineteen: Of Optical and Emotional Shields
Disclaimer: All Marvel Characters are the property of Marvel. This is a work of fanfiction, not an attempt to infringe on Stan Lee's personal arsenal of hotties. I can wish all I like, but Sabes is never gonna show up to collect me, and that's that. Oh, yeah, I'm making zero profit off this and if you want Beck, just ask.
As always, the lifeblood of the fanfiction author is reviews. I will respect constructive criticism, but flames are sincerely unappreciated. My e-mail address is seraph_taurus@thekeyz.com. Thanks for your time and God bless.
XXX
Scott's long strides soon brought him abreast of Rebecca. "Hey,"
"I can walk myself home, Scott. I don't need a chaperon for everything." Her blue eyes narrowed.
"I've gotta get home, too. I wanna get up early so I can meet Jean and the Professor."
"Oh, that's right."
"So. . .ah. . .are you all right?"
"Yeh, of course. Why would I not be?" she smiled perkily. Scott groaned.
"So you wanna play it THAT way?"
"Yeah, I do."
"All right. Then I'll take the few extra minutes to explain what I think is going on. You and Creed had one of your weird little 'moments' where you told him something extremely significant and he, being male and extremely dense, didn't get that it was important to you. You, knowing that he's an idiot, decided to make things easier on the both of you and excused yourself before his brain caught up with yours at least halfway and asked you to explain exactly what you meant."
"You're surprisingly introspective."
"For a man."
"Did I say that?"
"No, but it was hanging off the edge of your tongue, and I wanted to say it just so your eyes would go wide like that."
"You like surprising people, don't you?"
"I don't get to as often as you think." She snickered. "What?"
"Your sense of humor. It's. . .surprisingly refreshing."
"Oh? I've been told it's a little dry."
"Yeah, it is. But it's refreshing all the same. It must be nice to unwind like this, after being a leader-person all the time."
"It is."
"So you really DO relax like ordinary men." She marveled. "I used to think you were some kind of machine, who generated and demanded perfection."
"I don't demand perfection," Scott blushed furiously. Rebecca laughed. "Stop that, I KNOW I'm blushing!" he chuckled. "I guess I do sometimes."
"You demand perfection from yourself and others. I suppose I understand where you're coming from, but all the same, it's nice to see you so relaxed." She stopped walking, and he turned around. "What would you do if I said. . ." she noted the way his back suddenly snapped straight, the way his shoulders squared. "Don't worry; I'm not going to proposition you. I was just wondering. . .telekinetic shields restrain your optic blasts. If you took your glasses off and I. . ." she lifted her hands toward his eyewear, and he started away.
"Please don't." she looked down at his hands; they were trembling.
"I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't. But I don't know whether. . ."
"I'll be fine. Even if you DO hit me, my psionisis repairs my body at an accelerated rate, unless you've forgotten that incident at The Hague?" she lifted her hands again, and this time he stood stock-still, but his posture didn't relax for a moment. "Open your eyes, Scott." She said softly. "I need to reinforce telekinetic shields over them, so I can take your glasses off." He did so, and she carefully laid a light shield over each cornea. "Can you feel the air against them?"
"A little bit." His voice was low and whispery. She reinforced the shields slightly. "There."
"Can you feel the shields? Any discomfort?"
"No, none. They're just. . .warm."
"Can I take your glasses off?"
"I will." He turned around, and lifted his head, so his eyes were directed at the sky, and yanked the frames off in a swift, rather nervous movement. No sun-generated concussive bolts shot from them. His jaw dropped, and he flicked his gaze back to Rebecca. She beamed. "How did you. . ."
"I was just wondering. I'm amazed that Jean never thought of this." She stared into his glowing red eyes. "You look great. I've never seen you out of your stylish eyewear."
"I. . .I haven't. . .I mean. . ." he stammered, and caught his breath. "It's amazing. I haven't been without glasses for. . .years. . .without my eyes closed. . ."
"Don't talk, you look a little overwhelmed, Scott." She laughed, and reassumed their stroll. "You look great, by the way. You have pretty eyelashes. Come on, let's get you home."
"How can. . .thanks, Rebecca." He took three quick strides toward her and enveloped her in a firm hug. She choked.
"Oh, my. Scott Summers showing EMOTION!" she squeezed his ribs until they creaked. "Call the newspapers. And you're welcome." She grinned.
"I don't know what to say."
"You've thanked me AND given me a hug, Scott. What more IS there?" she shrugged. "Hey, you know, without your glasses, you look a bit like Remy."
"You've gotta be kidding." He snickered.
"Oh, I'm not. Especially in this leather jacket and tight jeans you're wearing." He smiled, mildly embarrassed. "Hey, just because I can see your eyes now doesn't mean you have to change your face to match their color."
"You're doing your damndest to humiliate me."
"Gasp!" she clutched her heart, "I've been discovered! Hell, Sherlock, you're just begging for it with that innocent face. Besides, your worst nightmare is being changed into Remy. Come to think of it. . ." she squinted in the dim light. "If you were a little leaner, a little ganglier, you two could pass as brothers."
"So I've been told," he said quietly. There was a long pause as they continued walking along the side of the road. "Rebecca, I just want you to know that when I say that I don't want you with the X-Men, that I don't mean. . .I mean, you're extremely talented, and you'd be an extremely hot commodity, and I think extremely highly of you. . ."
She chuckled. "I never thought Scott Summers was a man of extremes." She reflected, and they laughed comfortably. "Look, I know what you mean. And I'm not offended. Neither of us want me on the Team, and neither of us need to get upset about that. It's a good state of affairs. Besides, YOU'RE not the one who has to face the Professor tomorrow."
"All these years of battle and he can still make me feel all of ten years old with a single disapproving look." Scott sighed. "I feel for you."
"Please do." She rolled her eyes, then frowned. "Hey, what about your car?"
"I left the keys with Bobby before I left the bar. He drives like a little old lady, won't put a scratch on it unless he wants me to kill him."
"I see. So you give the car to the accountant/practical joker of the X-Men? Are you sure that's a wise idea?" she lifted a brow, watched in amusement as Scott had a miniature cardiac arrest.
"It'll be fine." He said, after a moment of thought. "If he brings it home without a scratch, everything's under control. And if he hurts it one tiny bit, I'll have an excuse to kill him. It's a win-win situation."
"I suppose you could put it that way." Scott blinked, then murmured, "Oh, crap."
"What?"
"Suddenly I WANT a half-inch paint scratch just so I can get rid of Bobby."
To her horror, Rebecca couldn't resist a giggle. "Maybe he'll melt a little bit in it, and that'll be excuse enough."
"Let's hope."
XXX
Chris Warden sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the man still sleeping beside him. Casting a glance toward the window, then at his watch, he noted that it was still some hours from sunrise. Standing up, he searched for his jeans in the darkened room. Once he found them, he tugged them on, then set to finding his shirt.
"You're leaving?" a mildly-accented voice came from the bed.
"Oh, hey, Jean-Paul. No, no, I'm not." Warden scrubbed a hand over his face. "I was just going to grab a shower before. . .before you woke up." He motioned toward the bathroom.
"I don't know about you, but I don't often take showers in my jeans."
"Well. . .I. . .ah. . ." Warden refused to meet the Canadian's eyes, sighed. "Look. . ."
"If you're not out yet, I can't blame you for wanting to leave. I assume everyone thinks you're sleeping with Soleil."
"I don't know. Maybe." He shrugged. "It's nothing against you," he sat down on the bed, his smile just a pale slash in the dimness. "You were. . .amazing. The things you do with your mutation. . ." he laughed quietly, reached out to trace the lines of the older man's features as Jean-Paul sat up to claim a kiss, which started out softly enough, but grew in intensity till the Canadian found himself straddling Warden's lap and their tongues danced to the primitive, soul-stirring mating drum their hearts pounded out. When finally they pried themselves away from one another, Warden let out a long breath. "That's what I mean, just there. But. . .ah. . .I have a boyfriend."
"I've heard of him. His name is Richard?"
"Yeah."
"Well," Jean-Paul had extricated himself from the passionate embrace he and Warden shared in a matter of moments. "It's not as though I were looking for a proposal or anything. This was just a night."
"No," Warden stood up, put a hand softly on his back. "No, it wasn't." Jean-Paul turned, lifted a brow. "I have had fantasies about you. . .forever. I mean, not just in a physical way. You're the first openly gay superhero, and I don't even have the courage to tell my mercenary community. I'm still introducing my boyfriend as my old college buddy. It's. . .I really admire you, and I really think. . ." he sighed. "How to say this? I mean, this WAS just ONE night, but it wasn't JUST one night. You know what I mean?" Jean-Paul shrugged. "Not for me, anyhow. But you know how you build up an ideal in your mind? You know, for example, if I was going to sleep with. . .well, you. I built you up, and I thought maybe if I had you tonight, it would just go away, all the thoughts I've had about you, the dreams. . .but you surpassed every one of them."
"Look, Chris. . ." Jean-Paul was by now facing the mercenary head-on. He lifted a hand and stroked his shaggy blond hair. "You're beautiful, you know? My beau ideal." He laughed quietly. Then he stepped back, and began to look for his own clothes. "So when are you going?"
"Where?"
"Well, I hear from Logan that you and Soleil are only staying until she meets with the Professor and keys your shielded psionic signature into Cerebro."
"Yes?"
"And that's it, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"I don't know. I mean. . .I'm not accustomed to my one-nighters telling me that I'm their sexual AND moral idol. It's unnerving, and a strange sort of oxymoron."
"I guess. But hey, this doesn't need to be more complicated than it already is."
"Would your boyfriend mind that you're cheating on him?"
"With you? He'd ask for a ménage a trois." Warden wasn't prepared for the quick, ironic bark of laughter Jean-Paul let out. "What?"
"Nothing. You should probably take your shower and get to your room before anyone gets up. I mean, people get up early in this mansion. . .it's insane."
"You kickin' me out?" Warden lifted a brow.
"I'd take you back to bed if you were out, already."
"If we were dating, I'd ask you to take me out."
"Well, I've never been good at long-distance relationships."
"Are you even in one right now?"
"Calique! You have me there. Can't say that I am." Jean-Paul shrugged, then leaned forward and touched his lips gently to Warden's. They shared a secret smile.
"Well, I'd better go, then. See you around." Warden scooped his turtleneck off the floor.
"Yeah, see you around."
XXX
Jonothon stumbled into the kitchen, headed straight for the refrigerator, and stole one of Wolverine's beers before he registered the thinly cloaked psi-signature in the room. 'Lo, Jubilee. he sat down at the table beside her.
"If Wolvie asks where his beer went, I'm pointing to you."
Fine, Jono uncapped the longneck, took a swig. Let's see if 'e 'as th' 'eart ter murder a poor innocent mutie in cold blood.
And risk Rebecca's vengeance? I don't really think so.
"W. . .well, there you g. . .g. . .go." Jonothon stammered audibly, beaming with pride when he only tripped on two words.
"You're getting better at it," Jubilee grinned, touched his hand. "So?"
"S. . .so wot?" he lifted a brow.
"So what do you think of Warden?"
"B. . .Becca says h. . .he's not sleeping w. . .w. . .with her."
"That so?"
"Yeh. S'wot she s. . .says."
"Oh, well." Jubilee took the beer from him and sipped, cringed, and handed it back. "Never COULD stand the stuff."
"Hrm." Jono's smile was wobbly yet, but crookedly charming, just like the rest of him.
"So, how's your love-life yet? Now that you're a big-shot rock'n'roller?" the deputy leader of X-Cell leaned back and put her muddied combat boots up on the table.
Wouldn't yer like ter know? Jono's eyes crinkled, and he wiggled his brows.
"I think I have a right to know, as your commanding officer."
Well, fine, I'm proud ter tell yer that I'm back ter me philanderin' ways. . .breakin' 'earts left'n right.
"Well, don't crush too many adolescent girls' dreams." Jubilee smiled, and Jono couldn't help detecting the edge of bitterness in her words.
"Look, J. . Jubilee, luv. . ."
"Don't beat a dead horse, Jon." She shrugged. "I'm fine."
"I'm n. . .not." his voice was thick with emotion.
"We've licked our wounds, Starsmore." She said quietly. "It was only six months."
"A. . .and we knew each other f. . .fer years before 'at."
"It's still dead."
"D'yer w. . .want it ter be dead, luv?"
"Starsmore, don't." her voice hardened, became cold and distant, the way it was when they were on the battlefield and she was giving orders as his commanding officer.
Summers does 'at, too, luv. That thing wif 'is voice. Helps distance yerself from us, don't it? Emotionally? Won't take shit from us underlings, 'at wot it is? Can't make yerself feel like yer one'v us? Maybe it's a leader thing, an' maybe yer need it out there, but not in 'ere, Jubilee. Not while we're both airing ourselves out. he stopped abruptly, then continued, "Not while I'm talkin' about me feelings fer yeh." He didn't stammer once.
"I don't want to talk about it. It's in the past."
Gorra lotta philosophy offa yer friend, Wolverine, didn't yer? Avoidin' th' subject, dancin' round wot yer don't want ter talk about? Pretty soon, ye'll be saddlin' up onna motorbike an' drivin' off inter th' sunset, leavin' us all high'n'dry. before the words had fully left his mind, a fist like rock slammed into his newly-formed jaw, bowling him over, chair and all.
"Don't you EVER talk about Wolvie like that." Jubilee hissed, semi-animate plasmoids sparkling off her fingertips. "And don't you EVER even INSINUATE that I'd do that to my team." She turned and was about to leave when a tendril of psionic flame hissed out from Jonothon's eyes and formed a constricting rope around one of her wrists, tugging her back. She turned, eyes blazing. Jonothon was still on the floor, long legs stretched out in front of him, his head in his hands.
"D. . .don't leave, Sunshine." He said quietly. "I'm s. . .sorry."
"You will be if you don't let me go this instant." Her eyes narrowed.
"Please j. . .j. . .just 'ear me out?" he stared up at her, his big, brown eyes full and liquid in the harsh neon light.
"You'd better spit it out fast, Starsmore."
I just wanna know why yer keep distancin' yerself from me.
"What are you TALKING about?!"
Well, when we're jus' 'angin' out, yer seem ter slip inter this great little banter wif me, an' I think that maybe, jus' maybe, if I can trust yer wif me life in th' Danger Room, maybe I can trust you wif me feelings. An' then when I start to, yer shoot me down before I get two words out.
"I just don't want to make another mistake like. . .you know. . ." she shrugged. "It's not that I don't love you anymore."
Then if yer love me, an' I love yer, too, 'ow come we aren't together? It doesn't make any sense. Are yer scared I'll break yer 'eart? YOU were th' one wot broke up wif me, as I recall.
"I'm not scared. I just don't want. . ." she sighed, and slipped down onto the floor to sit beside him. "I don't want us to become another Gambit and Rogue. I mean. . .he's just split with Sarah, and Rogue's already trying to get him back! And as much as he wants to go back to her, he knows she'll just turn around and break his heart again. It's just that. . .you know, I don't know what to think."
Cyclops an' Phoenix went f'r it. They're married now. They've children, wif more on th' way. They're 'appy.
"Yes, they are. But there are still unresolved issues between them."
An' they're in love. I'm in love. Are yer tellin' me that I'm in it alone? when she didn't say anything, he continued. Yer've always told me that wot Logan's told yer about life was ter live it ter th' full. "No one takes a bite outta life like yer do, girl." Ain't 'at wot 'e's always told yer? Th' night Illyana Rasputin died? Would yer just. . .gimme another chance?
She shook her head softly. "I don't know, Jono. I don't know if I love you enough to take that chance of breaking my own heart again. I guess. . .I don't know."
Well, if it makes any difference, if it don't work this time round, I promise yer, I'll take all th' blame. But I want this ter work. Six months wasn't enough fer me.
"But how much IS?" she sighed. "I don't know when you're gonna just up and head after the next pretty blonde girl you decide is hot stuff. I don't want to be dropped like a hot potato."
Jus' cos I did it ter Paige don't mean I'll do it ter yer. An' b'sides. . .I don't think I was as in love wif Paige as I am wif you.
"I'll think about it, Jon." She said quietly. "I will, I want you back, I do. I'll be honest, since we broke up five months ago, I haven't been able to think of anyone else, no matter whose bed I was in."
I won't break yer 'eart, I promise. An' if yer get tired o' me, just walk.
"Let me think about it, Jon." She said quietly. "I'm too tired to talk about us." She rolled her eyes when he began to pout. "You're incorrigible."
Thank yer, luv, I think very 'ighly o' yer, too. she swatted him over the head.
"I'm going to sleep, Starsmore." She mumbled, leaning over and pecking him softly on the cheek.
"I l. . .love yer, Sunshine." He said slowly.
"I love you, too." She rose and crept out of the kitchen. After what seemed like hours of empty silence, Jono got to his feet and finished his now-warm beer.
XXX
Chapter Nineteen: Of Optical and Emotional Shields
Disclaimer: All Marvel Characters are the property of Marvel. This is a work of fanfiction, not an attempt to infringe on Stan Lee's personal arsenal of hotties. I can wish all I like, but Sabes is never gonna show up to collect me, and that's that. Oh, yeah, I'm making zero profit off this and if you want Beck, just ask.
As always, the lifeblood of the fanfiction author is reviews. I will respect constructive criticism, but flames are sincerely unappreciated. My e-mail address is seraph_taurus@thekeyz.com. Thanks for your time and God bless.
XXX
Scott's long strides soon brought him abreast of Rebecca. "Hey,"
"I can walk myself home, Scott. I don't need a chaperon for everything." Her blue eyes narrowed.
"I've gotta get home, too. I wanna get up early so I can meet Jean and the Professor."
"Oh, that's right."
"So. . .ah. . .are you all right?"
"Yeh, of course. Why would I not be?" she smiled perkily. Scott groaned.
"So you wanna play it THAT way?"
"Yeah, I do."
"All right. Then I'll take the few extra minutes to explain what I think is going on. You and Creed had one of your weird little 'moments' where you told him something extremely significant and he, being male and extremely dense, didn't get that it was important to you. You, knowing that he's an idiot, decided to make things easier on the both of you and excused yourself before his brain caught up with yours at least halfway and asked you to explain exactly what you meant."
"You're surprisingly introspective."
"For a man."
"Did I say that?"
"No, but it was hanging off the edge of your tongue, and I wanted to say it just so your eyes would go wide like that."
"You like surprising people, don't you?"
"I don't get to as often as you think." She snickered. "What?"
"Your sense of humor. It's. . .surprisingly refreshing."
"Oh? I've been told it's a little dry."
"Yeah, it is. But it's refreshing all the same. It must be nice to unwind like this, after being a leader-person all the time."
"It is."
"So you really DO relax like ordinary men." She marveled. "I used to think you were some kind of machine, who generated and demanded perfection."
"I don't demand perfection," Scott blushed furiously. Rebecca laughed. "Stop that, I KNOW I'm blushing!" he chuckled. "I guess I do sometimes."
"You demand perfection from yourself and others. I suppose I understand where you're coming from, but all the same, it's nice to see you so relaxed." She stopped walking, and he turned around. "What would you do if I said. . ." she noted the way his back suddenly snapped straight, the way his shoulders squared. "Don't worry; I'm not going to proposition you. I was just wondering. . .telekinetic shields restrain your optic blasts. If you took your glasses off and I. . ." she lifted her hands toward his eyewear, and he started away.
"Please don't." she looked down at his hands; they were trembling.
"I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't. But I don't know whether. . ."
"I'll be fine. Even if you DO hit me, my psionisis repairs my body at an accelerated rate, unless you've forgotten that incident at The Hague?" she lifted her hands again, and this time he stood stock-still, but his posture didn't relax for a moment. "Open your eyes, Scott." She said softly. "I need to reinforce telekinetic shields over them, so I can take your glasses off." He did so, and she carefully laid a light shield over each cornea. "Can you feel the air against them?"
"A little bit." His voice was low and whispery. She reinforced the shields slightly. "There."
"Can you feel the shields? Any discomfort?"
"No, none. They're just. . .warm."
"Can I take your glasses off?"
"I will." He turned around, and lifted his head, so his eyes were directed at the sky, and yanked the frames off in a swift, rather nervous movement. No sun-generated concussive bolts shot from them. His jaw dropped, and he flicked his gaze back to Rebecca. She beamed. "How did you. . ."
"I was just wondering. I'm amazed that Jean never thought of this." She stared into his glowing red eyes. "You look great. I've never seen you out of your stylish eyewear."
"I. . .I haven't. . .I mean. . ." he stammered, and caught his breath. "It's amazing. I haven't been without glasses for. . .years. . .without my eyes closed. . ."
"Don't talk, you look a little overwhelmed, Scott." She laughed, and reassumed their stroll. "You look great, by the way. You have pretty eyelashes. Come on, let's get you home."
"How can. . .thanks, Rebecca." He took three quick strides toward her and enveloped her in a firm hug. She choked.
"Oh, my. Scott Summers showing EMOTION!" she squeezed his ribs until they creaked. "Call the newspapers. And you're welcome." She grinned.
"I don't know what to say."
"You've thanked me AND given me a hug, Scott. What more IS there?" she shrugged. "Hey, you know, without your glasses, you look a bit like Remy."
"You've gotta be kidding." He snickered.
"Oh, I'm not. Especially in this leather jacket and tight jeans you're wearing." He smiled, mildly embarrassed. "Hey, just because I can see your eyes now doesn't mean you have to change your face to match their color."
"You're doing your damndest to humiliate me."
"Gasp!" she clutched her heart, "I've been discovered! Hell, Sherlock, you're just begging for it with that innocent face. Besides, your worst nightmare is being changed into Remy. Come to think of it. . ." she squinted in the dim light. "If you were a little leaner, a little ganglier, you two could pass as brothers."
"So I've been told," he said quietly. There was a long pause as they continued walking along the side of the road. "Rebecca, I just want you to know that when I say that I don't want you with the X-Men, that I don't mean. . .I mean, you're extremely talented, and you'd be an extremely hot commodity, and I think extremely highly of you. . ."
She chuckled. "I never thought Scott Summers was a man of extremes." She reflected, and they laughed comfortably. "Look, I know what you mean. And I'm not offended. Neither of us want me on the Team, and neither of us need to get upset about that. It's a good state of affairs. Besides, YOU'RE not the one who has to face the Professor tomorrow."
"All these years of battle and he can still make me feel all of ten years old with a single disapproving look." Scott sighed. "I feel for you."
"Please do." She rolled her eyes, then frowned. "Hey, what about your car?"
"I left the keys with Bobby before I left the bar. He drives like a little old lady, won't put a scratch on it unless he wants me to kill him."
"I see. So you give the car to the accountant/practical joker of the X-Men? Are you sure that's a wise idea?" she lifted a brow, watched in amusement as Scott had a miniature cardiac arrest.
"It'll be fine." He said, after a moment of thought. "If he brings it home without a scratch, everything's under control. And if he hurts it one tiny bit, I'll have an excuse to kill him. It's a win-win situation."
"I suppose you could put it that way." Scott blinked, then murmured, "Oh, crap."
"What?"
"Suddenly I WANT a half-inch paint scratch just so I can get rid of Bobby."
To her horror, Rebecca couldn't resist a giggle. "Maybe he'll melt a little bit in it, and that'll be excuse enough."
"Let's hope."
XXX
Chris Warden sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the man still sleeping beside him. Casting a glance toward the window, then at his watch, he noted that it was still some hours from sunrise. Standing up, he searched for his jeans in the darkened room. Once he found them, he tugged them on, then set to finding his shirt.
"You're leaving?" a mildly-accented voice came from the bed.
"Oh, hey, Jean-Paul. No, no, I'm not." Warden scrubbed a hand over his face. "I was just going to grab a shower before. . .before you woke up." He motioned toward the bathroom.
"I don't know about you, but I don't often take showers in my jeans."
"Well. . .I. . .ah. . ." Warden refused to meet the Canadian's eyes, sighed. "Look. . ."
"If you're not out yet, I can't blame you for wanting to leave. I assume everyone thinks you're sleeping with Soleil."
"I don't know. Maybe." He shrugged. "It's nothing against you," he sat down on the bed, his smile just a pale slash in the dimness. "You were. . .amazing. The things you do with your mutation. . ." he laughed quietly, reached out to trace the lines of the older man's features as Jean-Paul sat up to claim a kiss, which started out softly enough, but grew in intensity till the Canadian found himself straddling Warden's lap and their tongues danced to the primitive, soul-stirring mating drum their hearts pounded out. When finally they pried themselves away from one another, Warden let out a long breath. "That's what I mean, just there. But. . .ah. . .I have a boyfriend."
"I've heard of him. His name is Richard?"
"Yeah."
"Well," Jean-Paul had extricated himself from the passionate embrace he and Warden shared in a matter of moments. "It's not as though I were looking for a proposal or anything. This was just a night."
"No," Warden stood up, put a hand softly on his back. "No, it wasn't." Jean-Paul turned, lifted a brow. "I have had fantasies about you. . .forever. I mean, not just in a physical way. You're the first openly gay superhero, and I don't even have the courage to tell my mercenary community. I'm still introducing my boyfriend as my old college buddy. It's. . .I really admire you, and I really think. . ." he sighed. "How to say this? I mean, this WAS just ONE night, but it wasn't JUST one night. You know what I mean?" Jean-Paul shrugged. "Not for me, anyhow. But you know how you build up an ideal in your mind? You know, for example, if I was going to sleep with. . .well, you. I built you up, and I thought maybe if I had you tonight, it would just go away, all the thoughts I've had about you, the dreams. . .but you surpassed every one of them."
"Look, Chris. . ." Jean-Paul was by now facing the mercenary head-on. He lifted a hand and stroked his shaggy blond hair. "You're beautiful, you know? My beau ideal." He laughed quietly. Then he stepped back, and began to look for his own clothes. "So when are you going?"
"Where?"
"Well, I hear from Logan that you and Soleil are only staying until she meets with the Professor and keys your shielded psionic signature into Cerebro."
"Yes?"
"And that's it, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"I don't know. I mean. . .I'm not accustomed to my one-nighters telling me that I'm their sexual AND moral idol. It's unnerving, and a strange sort of oxymoron."
"I guess. But hey, this doesn't need to be more complicated than it already is."
"Would your boyfriend mind that you're cheating on him?"
"With you? He'd ask for a ménage a trois." Warden wasn't prepared for the quick, ironic bark of laughter Jean-Paul let out. "What?"
"Nothing. You should probably take your shower and get to your room before anyone gets up. I mean, people get up early in this mansion. . .it's insane."
"You kickin' me out?" Warden lifted a brow.
"I'd take you back to bed if you were out, already."
"If we were dating, I'd ask you to take me out."
"Well, I've never been good at long-distance relationships."
"Are you even in one right now?"
"Calique! You have me there. Can't say that I am." Jean-Paul shrugged, then leaned forward and touched his lips gently to Warden's. They shared a secret smile.
"Well, I'd better go, then. See you around." Warden scooped his turtleneck off the floor.
"Yeah, see you around."
XXX
Jonothon stumbled into the kitchen, headed straight for the refrigerator, and stole one of Wolverine's beers before he registered the thinly cloaked psi-signature in the room. 'Lo, Jubilee. he sat down at the table beside her.
"If Wolvie asks where his beer went, I'm pointing to you."
Fine, Jono uncapped the longneck, took a swig. Let's see if 'e 'as th' 'eart ter murder a poor innocent mutie in cold blood.
And risk Rebecca's vengeance? I don't really think so.
"W. . .well, there you g. . .g. . .go." Jonothon stammered audibly, beaming with pride when he only tripped on two words.
"You're getting better at it," Jubilee grinned, touched his hand. "So?"
"S. . .so wot?" he lifted a brow.
"So what do you think of Warden?"
"B. . .Becca says h. . .he's not sleeping w. . .w. . .with her."
"That so?"
"Yeh. S'wot she s. . .says."
"Oh, well." Jubilee took the beer from him and sipped, cringed, and handed it back. "Never COULD stand the stuff."
"Hrm." Jono's smile was wobbly yet, but crookedly charming, just like the rest of him.
"So, how's your love-life yet? Now that you're a big-shot rock'n'roller?" the deputy leader of X-Cell leaned back and put her muddied combat boots up on the table.
Wouldn't yer like ter know? Jono's eyes crinkled, and he wiggled his brows.
"I think I have a right to know, as your commanding officer."
Well, fine, I'm proud ter tell yer that I'm back ter me philanderin' ways. . .breakin' 'earts left'n right.
"Well, don't crush too many adolescent girls' dreams." Jubilee smiled, and Jono couldn't help detecting the edge of bitterness in her words.
"Look, J. . Jubilee, luv. . ."
"Don't beat a dead horse, Jon." She shrugged. "I'm fine."
"I'm n. . .not." his voice was thick with emotion.
"We've licked our wounds, Starsmore." She said quietly. "It was only six months."
"A. . .and we knew each other f. . .fer years before 'at."
"It's still dead."
"D'yer w. . .want it ter be dead, luv?"
"Starsmore, don't." her voice hardened, became cold and distant, the way it was when they were on the battlefield and she was giving orders as his commanding officer.
Summers does 'at, too, luv. That thing wif 'is voice. Helps distance yerself from us, don't it? Emotionally? Won't take shit from us underlings, 'at wot it is? Can't make yerself feel like yer one'v us? Maybe it's a leader thing, an' maybe yer need it out there, but not in 'ere, Jubilee. Not while we're both airing ourselves out. he stopped abruptly, then continued, "Not while I'm talkin' about me feelings fer yeh." He didn't stammer once.
"I don't want to talk about it. It's in the past."
Gorra lotta philosophy offa yer friend, Wolverine, didn't yer? Avoidin' th' subject, dancin' round wot yer don't want ter talk about? Pretty soon, ye'll be saddlin' up onna motorbike an' drivin' off inter th' sunset, leavin' us all high'n'dry. before the words had fully left his mind, a fist like rock slammed into his newly-formed jaw, bowling him over, chair and all.
"Don't you EVER talk about Wolvie like that." Jubilee hissed, semi-animate plasmoids sparkling off her fingertips. "And don't you EVER even INSINUATE that I'd do that to my team." She turned and was about to leave when a tendril of psionic flame hissed out from Jonothon's eyes and formed a constricting rope around one of her wrists, tugging her back. She turned, eyes blazing. Jonothon was still on the floor, long legs stretched out in front of him, his head in his hands.
"D. . .don't leave, Sunshine." He said quietly. "I'm s. . .sorry."
"You will be if you don't let me go this instant." Her eyes narrowed.
"Please j. . .j. . .just 'ear me out?" he stared up at her, his big, brown eyes full and liquid in the harsh neon light.
"You'd better spit it out fast, Starsmore."
I just wanna know why yer keep distancin' yerself from me.
"What are you TALKING about?!"
Well, when we're jus' 'angin' out, yer seem ter slip inter this great little banter wif me, an' I think that maybe, jus' maybe, if I can trust yer wif me life in th' Danger Room, maybe I can trust you wif me feelings. An' then when I start to, yer shoot me down before I get two words out.
"I just don't want to make another mistake like. . .you know. . ." she shrugged. "It's not that I don't love you anymore."
Then if yer love me, an' I love yer, too, 'ow come we aren't together? It doesn't make any sense. Are yer scared I'll break yer 'eart? YOU were th' one wot broke up wif me, as I recall.
"I'm not scared. I just don't want. . ." she sighed, and slipped down onto the floor to sit beside him. "I don't want us to become another Gambit and Rogue. I mean. . .he's just split with Sarah, and Rogue's already trying to get him back! And as much as he wants to go back to her, he knows she'll just turn around and break his heart again. It's just that. . .you know, I don't know what to think."
Cyclops an' Phoenix went f'r it. They're married now. They've children, wif more on th' way. They're 'appy.
"Yes, they are. But there are still unresolved issues between them."
An' they're in love. I'm in love. Are yer tellin' me that I'm in it alone? when she didn't say anything, he continued. Yer've always told me that wot Logan's told yer about life was ter live it ter th' full. "No one takes a bite outta life like yer do, girl." Ain't 'at wot 'e's always told yer? Th' night Illyana Rasputin died? Would yer just. . .gimme another chance?
She shook her head softly. "I don't know, Jono. I don't know if I love you enough to take that chance of breaking my own heart again. I guess. . .I don't know."
Well, if it makes any difference, if it don't work this time round, I promise yer, I'll take all th' blame. But I want this ter work. Six months wasn't enough fer me.
"But how much IS?" she sighed. "I don't know when you're gonna just up and head after the next pretty blonde girl you decide is hot stuff. I don't want to be dropped like a hot potato."
Jus' cos I did it ter Paige don't mean I'll do it ter yer. An' b'sides. . .I don't think I was as in love wif Paige as I am wif you.
"I'll think about it, Jon." She said quietly. "I will, I want you back, I do. I'll be honest, since we broke up five months ago, I haven't been able to think of anyone else, no matter whose bed I was in."
I won't break yer 'eart, I promise. An' if yer get tired o' me, just walk.
"Let me think about it, Jon." She said quietly. "I'm too tired to talk about us." She rolled her eyes when he began to pout. "You're incorrigible."
Thank yer, luv, I think very 'ighly o' yer, too. she swatted him over the head.
"I'm going to sleep, Starsmore." She mumbled, leaning over and pecking him softly on the cheek.
"I l. . .love yer, Sunshine." He said slowly.
"I love you, too." She rose and crept out of the kitchen. After what seemed like hours of empty silence, Jono got to his feet and finished his now-warm beer.
XXX