Chapter 6: Return to the Mansion
The sun was shining through the window in a bright parallelogram over the bedcovers when Logan woke.
He lay there for a long while, letting the events of the night before run through his mind, then turned to look at the girl beside him.
Jubilee was lying curled up against his side, her body tucked against his ribs. Her breathing was shallow and even, and she looked so peaceful he didn't have the heart to wake her. But he was going to have to get up, because the arm her head rested on was completely asleep, and more importantly, nature was calling him. He carefully slid out of bed, easing his pillow under her head to replace his arm, and slid out of bed. He attended to his business in the bathroom, wrinkling his nose at the smells in it. The motel staff did clean, apparently, but not thoroughly, and the odor of other occupants lingered in the air under the smell of disinfectant. Jubilee might not smell anything, but to his enhanced senses the smell was offensively apparent.
He returned to the bed, picking his clothes up as quietly as he could and pulling them on. From the window he'd seen a fast-food place across the street, and he desperately wanted some coffee. And he knew Jubilee would too.
It only took a few moments to walk across the street and order their food; two large coffees, his black, hers with cream and sugar, and a small breakfast of pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon. They could fill up when they got home.
He opened the door quietly; she was still asleep. Closing the door gently with a backward shove of his foot, he set the food down on a small table, sat down in a chair himself, and picked up his coffee.
A small sound interrupted him. A tiny, almost inaudible (even to his sensitive hearing) gasp. He walked over to the bed.
Jubilee was curled up in a tight ball, so tight his own muscles ached in sympathetic pain. Her lips were slightly parted, and there was a furrow across her forehead. She gasped again, as he watched, and squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear trickled from under her eyelashes, and she clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palm. "No…" the word was barely audible. "Please…" her head snapped back on her neck.
A nightmare. Logan flinched at the sound of the pain in her voice, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Jubes," he said gently, shaking her slightly. "Jubes. Wake up."
She gasped and curled back up, shying away from his touch. "No," she whimpered, eyes still tightly closed. "Bastion, stop hurting Wolvie…please…"
Logan took her shoulders and pulled her upright. "Jubes," he said firmly, loudly, but still gently, "Yer safe. I'm here. No one's gonna hurt me. Wake up, darlin'."
Her eyes flew open, and she stared directly into his eyes for a long moment. Still clouded by the dream, he watched as emotions flitted over her face and through her eyes. Fear. Emotional pain. Pleading. And finally, a recognition of where she was, and who he was, and awareness snapped into place behind her eyes. "Wolvie?"
"Yeah, I'm here," he said as reassuringly as he could. "You're fine. We're at the motel we stopped at last night cause I didn't want ya ta drive yer bike drunk."
"I wasn't drunk," Jubilee said, but her voice lacked conviction. She reached forward and hugged him instead, as if to banish the last of the nightmare, and he hugged her back, tightly. When he finally pulled away her cheek was damp with tears that she tried to hide, and Logan pushed himself off the bed, pretending not to notice the tears. "I got some breakfast," he said, picking up the coffee he'd bought for her and handing it to her. "Coffee, cream and sugar."
Jubilee took her first sip, sitting in bed, with her eyes closed. "Thank you, Wolvie." She wasn't talking about just the coffee.
He smiled gently at her, an expression that only she ever saw. "Yer welcome, Jubes." She gave him a watery, uncertain smile, and put her coffee down on the bedside table, picking up her clothes and heading for the bathroom.
She came out a short while later, dressed and refreshed, looking a little happier now that the last vestiges of the nightmare were gone. She sat down and tucked into the breakfast he'd bought, eating with an appetite that always surprised Logan. She could eat like a horse and yet stayed slim and petite. Well, not that he gained any weight either…
While he finished his share of the breakfast, she tidied up the room, making the bed neatly, packing all of her things back in her bag, then they left. Logan signed them out of the motel register, and he and Jubilee carried their bags around the back of the motel to where they had parked their bikes the night before.
Jubilee was walking a little ahead of Logan, so she got around the corner first. She screamed in shock. Logan hurried until he was standing beside her, and stopped short, aghast.
Both their bikes were on the ground. They were still recognizable as bikes, but they were dented and battered, as if someone had taken a baseball bat to them. Jubilee dropped her bags and ran forward, tears in her blue eyes. "My BIKE!"
Shocked, Logan approached his, staring at the sizable dents and the assorted parts scattered about. He knew immediately what had happened; when they had left the bar, the big man who'd confronted them at the bar last night must have followed them and trashed their bikes. He examined his cursorily, then looked at Jubilee's. "It ain't bad," he said finally. "A few replacement parts, we oughtta be able ta fix it up. Don't cry, Jubes." He patted her shoulder.
"My bike!" Jubilee refused to be consoled. "How could they…just…" words failed her, and she fell to her knees, staring disconsolately at the heap that was her precious bike. "Oh, Logan…"
"It's okay," Logan said. "We'll fix it. Let's get Gumbo out here to pick us up and haul the bikes back to the mansion." He headed for the pay phone.
Remy was somewhat less than happy to be woken out of a late morning sleep, but when he heard Logan explain their problem, he was only too glad to come out with his pickup and a trailer to haul the bikes. He noted her suitcase, her tousled hair, Logan's scruffy just-out-of-bed appearance, but said nothing until they were inside his truck. "So, you have a rough night las' night?"
Jubilee saw the merry, wicked gleam in his eye, and punched him in the arm. "Not like that, Gumbo," she warned him, using Logan's old nickname for him. "I was thinking of taking a vacation from you guys. Logan came after me to convince me to come back. He found me in a bar, and refused to let me drive home. We spent the night in the motel, and when we came out this morning our bikes were all messed up." She clenched her fist. "I'm gonna kill whoever it was that did this!"
Logan shook his head. "No ya ain't," he said. "Yer not goin' after that stupid lowlife. Leave him alone, 'kay?" When she didn't say anything, he cupped her chin and made her look him in the eye. "Okay?"
Reluctantly, she nodded.
Bobby and Hank were outside getting ready to go somewhere when Remy's pickup, with the trailer carrying the two bikes behind him, pulled up. Bobby lost a few precious minutes staring at Logan and Jubilee getting out of Remy's truck together, then ran to help Hank and Remy with Logan's bike. The two men waved him aside, and he walked over to Jubilee instead. "So. Looks like that was some night," he snickered. "Guess you two did a number on each other, hey?"
"Bobby!" Jubilee hollered at him, taking a swing at him with her open palm, but he ducked her swing and went racing around the side of the mansion, howling with laughter. Jubilee sighed as she watched Logan and Remy take her bike off the trailer. It was going to be a very long day.
Hank wiped his hands off on a shop cloth and turned to Logan. "As my erstwhile companion has elected to pursue other interests rather than joining me on our little expedition, perhaps you and Jubilee will care to accompany me? We could stop at the parts store to purchase the parts you will need to restore your motorcycles to their former pristine condition."
Logan looked at the bikes as he grabbed Jubilee's suitcase out of the truck and handed it to her. "Gotta see what parts we need 'fore we go an' buy 'em," he told Hank. "But thanks anyway. Hey, Jubes," he called after her as she headed off into the mansion, "Put on some old stuff an' come on back out. If yer gonna keep yer bike, ya might as well learn how ta fix it. I'll show ya."
"Really?' Jubilee squealed and ran into the mansion.
She was up in her room putting her clothing away in her drawers when there was a gentle tap on her door, and Emma opened it a moment later. "Jubilee," she said quietly, "May I talk to you?"
Jubilee frowned. "Yeah, what's wrong?"
Emma seated herself on the end of Jubilee's bed and watched her unpack. "We heard that you and Logan spent the night in a motel."
Uh-oh, Jubilee thought as she saw Emma assume that 'lecture' pose. She'd seen plenty of that when she was at the Academy; apparently things hadn't changed.
"We thought maybe we'd talk to you," Emma said gently, ignoring Jubilee's stiffened back. "Please understand, we're not trying to interfere in your business, but we don't think you've thought through the ramifications of what you've done. Maybe you were drinking a little last night, and your judgment got a little clouded; but we don't think it should go any further than that. We—"
"Hold it right there," Jubilee said, cutting Emma off in the middle of a sentence. "One; who's the 'we' you keep referring to? You and Scotters?"
"That's Scott to you, young lady," Emma said, the tips of her ears turning slightly pink. "Logan might call Scott by a number of disrespectful nicknames, but you're not getting away with it. And don't change the subject. We don't think it's right for a young girl like you to sleep with a man twice your age, if not more…"
"'Young girl'? Emma, I'm twenty-three. Last time I checked, that was well over the age to be considered an adult around here. And who I spend the night with is none of yours, or Scott's, business." Jubilee finished putting her clothes back in her drawer and reached for an old pair of cutoffs; she was likely going to get dirty, and she didn't want to ruin a new pair of shorts.
"It is our business," Emma insisted. "Jubilee, you're a former student, and I care a lot about you. I want to keep you from making a mistake you'll regret…"
Jubilee yanked her black t-shirt over her head and stuffed her feet in her black sneakers. "And isn't that my mistake to make, if I want to?" she said. "He's been there for me since I came to the mansion. More than any of the rest have been. He's never treated me like a kid, except when I deserved it; he's never pushed me aside, told me I was too young to do something (unless I really was) and he's the only one who really kept in regular contact with me when I came to you at the Academy. Everybody else just stuck me there and forgot about me. He never did."
"They did not 'forget' about you—" Emma protested, but Jubilee cut her off.
"Well that's what it looked like to me. And he'd get in trouble for running up there to see me from Scott. He told me so. So stop trying to pretend you guys have my best interests in mind." Jubilee finished tying her shoe up and dragged her hair up in a ponytail at the top of her head. "And besides…Bobby didn't even stop to ask what happened. Yes, we spent the night in a motel, but nothing happened. So you can get off your soapbox." Jubilee ran out of her room, leaving Emma with some very mixed feelings. Bobby was going to get in trouble for putting her in Jubilee's bad graces; but at that moment Jubilee didn't care. The least Bobby could have done was talk to her before he made assumptions. And what was worse, he'd probably spread it around the mansion! She wondered what Xavier would have to say when he heard the rumors.