Chapter 2: Movie Night

"Wolvie?"

Jubilee knocked on Logan's door, then waited. There was a time when she would have just tapped and walked in, but she was twenty-three now, and modesty came with age. She waited a few seconds, and when she didn't hear Logan's answer, she knocked again. When there was still no answer, she walked in. No Wolvie.

She thought. It wasn't his night for going out, although lately, in the few weeks since she'd been home he'd been going out a lot more frequently than he used to. A quick look at the dresser top, which was bare of anything except his cowboy hat and his motorcycle helmet, revealed that his helmet was gone. Not that he would actually wear it, but since Scott had started ragging on Logan about the number of traffic violations he'd racked up for not wearing the 'damn thing', as Wolvie put it, he now took it with him. So. He probably had gone out.

She sighed and closed the door, padding down the hallway on slippered feet. There was a horror movie marathon on TV. In past years, they both knew that on horror movie nights, by unspoken agreement, neither one would go out. She'd been checking the channels earlier that day, and found a Friday the 13th movie marathon on one of the premium channels. She'd mentioned it to him at lunch, "Wolvie. Friday the 13th movie marathon's on tonight." He'd responded with a grunt, as he usually did, and she had been certain that they were going to have one of their movie nights. She'd even begged a few bucks off Remy so they could order pizza and sneaked a bag of Emma and Scott's popcorn from the not-so-secret drawer in the kitchen they kept it in. Now here she was, wearing PJ's and her fuzzy slippers, with goodies that he wasn't around to help her eat.

She flopped down disconsolately on the Rec Room couch and stared morosely at the pizza (pepperoni, mushrooms, Italian sausage) she had ordered. All Wolvie's favorites. She stared at the big bowl of popcorn, and felt tears sting her eyes. She hugged the pillow to her chest, ignoring the teenager being slaughtered on the screen, and stared into space.

"Is dat seat taken?" said a smooth voice with a Cajun accent. She looked up to see Remy, standing at the other end of the couch, his red-on-black eyes looking warm and sympathetic. She scrubbed the tears away from her eyes and sat up, tucking her feet under her. "Nope. Go on, sit down."

Remy sat down, looking at the feast snacks spread out in front of Jubilee. She even, he noticed with some surprise, had a longneck sitting on the table in front of her; opened, maybe a few sips missing. He pointed at it, choosing to start the conversation with something not as potentially explosive as her missing movie partner. "Emma not going to be happy to see you drinking dat."

Jubilee said something pithy and anatomically impossible.

Remy hid a grin behind his hand. Logan used to say the same thing when Remy pointed out that their dearly-departed Jean didn't like his drinking. Well, Jubilee couldn't hang around Logan so much without picking up a few of Logan's more…charming…personality traits. He smiled. "Well, no need to have all dat temper wasted on you alone. Mind if I have one?" Corona wasn't his usual beverage, but he'd drunk some with Logan several times, and it wasn't that bad. Jubilee reached down to the floor on her side of the couch and produced another sweating bottle from the six pack next to her, and Remy took it. Then he took the bottle opener she handed him. "Had to get the bottle opener. Wolvie's not here to open them for me." Her voice sounded small and lost.

Ah. Remy took a drink from the bottle, taking a long time to drink very little, thinking about what he was going to say. To Jubilee, first: and then to Logan, later. He knew about their movie nights; everyone in the mansion knew. It had been too much of a ritual for them since Jubilee was thirteen. Jean had had several litters of kittens when she found Logan was letting…nay, inviting…Jubilee to watch R rated movies with him, but that made not a single bit of difference to either Jubilee or Logan. They went on doing whatever they wanted to, and Jean had had to deal with it. He put the bottle down and said carefully, "Logan didn' want to watch wit' you?"

"No," Jubilee said, and sniffled. "I went up to his room and knocked and when he didn't open the door I knocked again and then walked in and he wasn't in there, and I swear I told him there was a horror movie marathon at lunch but maybe he didn't hear me, or…" she scrubbed at her eyes with her hand, but the tears kept coming, and it had nothing at all to do with the girl getting killed on the screen, "or he doesn't want to spend time with me any more." She sniffled again. "He's been avoiding me since I came home. I can count on my fingers and toes the number of times he's talked to me, and his responses are just the usual grunts. I've been thinking and thinking, and I can't think of anything I've done wrong to make him mad at me." She sniffed, and to cover more of her tears she picked up her bottle and took a sip. "I even went and got a pizza with his favorite stuff on it, and his favorite beer, and the extra-salt popcorn from Emma and Scott's secret drawer, and he's not here."

Remy sighed. "Well, p'tite, you min' if Remy sit here wit' you? I don' have not'ing else to do right now, an' you look like you could use some company."

Jubilee looked up at him and managed a watery smile. "Sure. But you might want to get a bit more comfortable," indicating his clothes.

He looked down at himself, wet from the rain outside, and gave her a lopsided grin. "Guess Remy better go change, non?" he said. "Remy be right back."

A short time later, he was back downstairs, more comfortably attired in a pair of black boxers and a gray tank top. He plunked himself down beside her and draped a thin blanket across the back of the couch, then reached for the pizza box. He sniffed the steam appreciatively, then took out a slice. Jubilee got up out of the depths of the couch and sat up, reaching for a slice, just as Jason commenced slicing up another teenager. Remy grimaced. "You like watching dis?"

Jubilee looked at him and wrinkled her nose as she gave him a wide grin. "Not really, but Wolvie kinda liked me snuggling up to him during the really gory parts, so that's why I watch it with him. Horror isn't really my thing."

Remy eyed the remote. "You goin' to paff Remy if he see what else is on?"

Jubilee started laughing, and choked on her bite of pizza. "No, go ahead," she said, taking a sip of her beer to clear her mouth. She looked at Remy for a moment, both of them remembering the time they had gotten into a fight over control of the TV remote and Jubilee had accidentally paffed both Remy and the remote in the process. Jean had commented later that at least it was only the remote, and not the TV itself.

Remy flicked the channels until they found a Steven Segal action movie that Jubilee hadn't seen before and that Remy was happy with, and they both settled down to make some serious inroads into the pizza, popcorn, and beer.

Logan closed the back door as quietly as possible and tiptoed through the kitchen, heading for the Rec Room downstairs and the six pack of beer he'd seen in the fridge earlier. It was late (or early, depending on which way you looked at it; two in the morning was late for him) and he hoped Jubilee was in bed so he wouldn't have to run into her.

He had heard her tell him about the horror movies; however, in keeping with his new resolution to keep her away from him (for her sake) he had firmly directed his steps away from the Rec Room and headed out the door as soon as he saw her pick up the phone to order the pizza. He knew she'd be hurt…but she would get over it. She was a tough kid.

He sneaked stealthily down the last couple of steps into the Rec Room, pausing to peek around the corner before he went in. Jubilee was stretched out on the couch, asleep under a thin old blanket he recognized as belonging to the Cajun…and speaking of the devil, there was Remy himself, sitting at the far end of the couch and sipping one of Logan's beers, with Jubilee's head in his lap. "Allo," Remy greeted him somberly, quietly. "Where you been, homme?"

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Out," he said shortly, his eyes scanning the carnage on the table for any sign of his missing beer. He counted the two bottles in front of Jubilee with a bit of surprise, and a little disapproval—and then he kicked himself, sharply. She was a woman, not a girl, and she could drink if she wanted to. There were three bottles in front of Remy, and the last bottle was in his hand. "That my beer yer drinkin'?"

Remy nodded, his face grim. "Yep. Jubilee drank herself to sleep, Logan. Depressed all night, 'cause you 'blew her off', as she said." He gently stroked Jubilee's hair back from her forehead, and Logan had to resist the impulse to growl at the proprietary attitude in the gesture. "Why you go off an' leave her, Logan?"

Logan sighed and unfolded his arms. "She been hangin' around fer the last couple o' weeks, pouncin' on me an' tryin' ta get me ta do this, do that with her. She's young, Rems, she don't need to be hangin' aroun' an old man like me." His tone softened. "Especially when that ol' man's got more enemies than she got fingers."

Remy sighed. He had thought that might be part of the reason. "You t'ink she care?"

Logan looked indignant. "I care, Remy! She deserves ta live a long, full life, an' die a grandmother. Not an early grave and a big tombstone 'cause she was hangin' with me."

Remy shook his head. "Logan, de kind o' work we do, none o' us going to live a long time," he said, keeping his voice soft even as his words sharpened. Jubilee stirred in her sleep, and both men instinctively held their breaths, hoping she wouldn't wake. After a moment she settled back down on Remy's leg and slipped back into a deep sleep. Remy let out the breath he was holding and looked back up at Logan. "If she want to risk hers hanging out wit' you, isn' dat kind of her choice to make? Do you have de right to tell her not to do somet'ing dat means so much to her?"

"Yes!" Logan exclaimed—but quietly.

Remy shook his head. "You not her fat'er, Logan. You not a parent, or in any way related to her, so you don' have de right to tell her what to do wit' her life."

"I am a senior member of the team, an' if I say she can't do something', she can't do it."

"An' Scott is de team leader, but if he tells you to do somet'ing, you don' necessarily do it. You stick it to Scott as often as you can an' not compromise de team. She been hangin' wit' you all dese years, you t'ink she wouldn't do de same t'ing to you someday? She learn from de bes'."

Logan stood there, thinking about that for a moment, then gave a low, frustrated growl and turned, leaving the room as abruptly as he entered it.

As his footsteps faded away, a soft voice said, "He kinda reminds me of Scott, sometimes. When it comes to me doing something he doesn't want me to do, he gets his back up."

Remy looked down at Jubilee, looking at him with her eyes open. "T'ought you asleep, p'tite."

She shook her head. "Heard every word. I'm a light sleeper."

Remy hmmph'ed. "Since when? Used to sleep like a log, if Remy remember right. All dose times Scott went and dragged you out de bed in de morning for dose early Danger Room sessions."

"Haven't slept that soundly since…since…" Jubilee couldn't finish the sentence. She held out her arm, and Remy's gaze was drawn to the long white scar on the inside of her arm, where straightjacket straps had rubbed her skin raw. He understood. Bastion.