Second Chances

Chapter 8

Logan could only stare at the tiny scrap of fabric dangling from his finger. The little wench actually called him on it. When he looked up again, she was on the other side of the ballroom talking to a tall man in an Armani tux. He trusted her. She wouldn't betray him, even if she was angry. He kept telling himself that as he stalked across the room. He tucked the thong into his pocket and started to hunt.

He had to admit to himself, she was good. Every time he thought he was getting close enough to grab her, she would slip off to another area of the room. Unattached, and quite a few attached, men followed her around the room like ducks. If the little bit of fabric in his pocket hadn't gotten him so turned on he might have laughed. As it was, he had to go from potted plant to potted plant to hide his throbbing erection. Jubilee was in a crowded room, full of strange men, without panties on! Dammit, if he didn't catch her soon, he was going to start killing.

When he found her again, she was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with a tall blond man. He looked a little familiar, but Logan couldn't see his face and the mix of perfume and cologne had deadened his nose so he couldn't catch his scent. He growled deep in his throat as he watched the swaying couple. Her partners' hand was drifting down. The further down the man's hand went on her back the lower in pitch Logan's growls became. By the time his hand was resting on Jubilee's left hip, Logan was almost vibrating with the sound.

"If you want to keep your hand," Jubilee said lightly, "you should move it."

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"It's great to see you again, Warren, but if you don't move your hand, Wolvie will remove it from your arm."

"What's with you two?" he asked as he quickly raised his had to her waist. "He looks ready to slaughter the entire room."

"We had an argument before we came down," she told him. "I don't want to go into the particulars, but I ended up taking my panties off and handing them to him. He still has them."

His booming laughter filled the room. "Is that why he's looking daggers at my back? He's carrying your panties around with him but he can't get to the goods?"

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "That's about the size of it."

He turned them around so Logan could see his face. "Jubilation Lee, you are so good for this team. You keep us on our toes." He smiled at her lover as the feral recognized her dance partner.

"He loves you, Jubilee." Warren told her. "Don't mess with him too much."

"I love him too, but he needs to learn to trust me." The music ended and the couple separated. "Thanks for the dance."

"It was my pleasure," he replied as he kissed her wrist. "You've grown into a lovely woman, Jubilee. I envy Logan."

Warren Worthington was shoved away by the hoard of hopeful men vying for her attention. Logan didn't join the mass.

The mutant known as Angel fought his way through the press of bodies and found his feral teammate hiding behind a potted ficus.

"You do know that she loves you, right?" Warren asked the swaying branches.

"I know," the tree growled.

"All she wants is for you to trust her."

"I trust her," the leaves replied. "I don't trust them."

"She's a big girl," Warren said, "and she's hardly helpless."

The tree was silent.

"You still have the panties?"

"She told ya 'bout that?"

"Uh-huh," he grinned. "A word of advice, Logan. Jubilee's a great woman. Don't fuck this up." With this last piece of advice, Warren left the party and went home to his penthouse. He had a hot date.

An hour after they arrived at the party, Logan saw Jubilee disappear into the ladies room with Jean in tow. A large cluster of artificial greenery hid the door from the ballroom. 'Perfect,' he thought. He slipped into the shadows behind the pots and waited.

"What's up with Logan?" Jean asked her as she repaired her make-up. "He looks like he's ready to gut someone."

"He's just horny." Jubilee replied as she reapplied her lip gloss.

"What did you do?" she giggled.

"We had an argument about my panties," Jubilee explained. "He didn't care for the thong I planned to wear with this dress; called them 'indecent'. Well, when he started back in on them in the elevator, I reached under my dress and took 'em off. They're probably in his pocket now. So, here I am, in the middle of a crowded room without underwear on and he knows it. He's probably so hard right now, it's gotten to critical mass."

She looked over at Jean. Her face was bright red with suppressed laughter.

"Just laugh, Jean." Jubilee sighed. "I don't want you to explode. Scott would never forgive me."

Jean burst into laughter. She had to hold on to the sink to keep from falling down she was laughing so hard.. "Oh my god, Jubilee," she gasped. "I don't think I ever laughed so hard or so much before you and Logan got together. First the tampons and now this. Rogue's gonna be sorry she went with Remy to New Orleans." She started laughing again just as hard as she had before. Jubilee had to help her to a chair in the small sitting room off the main bathroom.

"I'm glad my marital woes amuse you, Jean," Jubilee said as she got the older woman a tissue. "Listen, I know it's funny, but this is serious. I have to do something before he kills someone."

"Give him a quickie," Jean advised, still snorting with laughter.

"In a two thousand dollar silk dress?" she demanded. "Are you crazy? The dry cleaning bill alone isn't worth it."

"Take him and leave," Jean told her. "I'll square you with Scott. I think he'd rather excuse you both than explain to the survivors."

"What if he catches us trying to leave?" Jubilee asked. "He'll stop us and Logan will probably kill him."

Jean stood and made her decision. "I'll distract him," she said as she wriggled out of her own underwear.

Jubilee's mouth dropped open in shock. "You wouldn't!" she squeaked.

"If it works for Logan, it will work for Scott," Jean said as she settled her skirt. "Wait until you see us slip away."

"What about your dress?"

"What about it? It's not like I'm going to wear it again. I can't see me wearing this thing again unless I'm pregnant and I'm not about to wear last years fashions, pregnant or not."

She poked her head out of the door and located her husband. "Wish me luck," she whispered as she merged back into the crowd.

Jubilee shook her head and left the bathroom. As she walked by the large potted plant near the door, a black clad arm reached out and grabbed her around the waist, trapping her arms to her sides. A large hand clamped over her mouth, effectively stopping her from calling for help. Bright plasma swirled around her hands as she struggled to break free.

"Settle down Jubes, it's me." Logan's hot breath brushed across her ear. She sagged against him in relief. His hand fell from her mouth and cupped her breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple. His mouth moved from her ear to the back of her neck, kissing and nipping.

"Hang on, Wolvie," she said. "I have two thousand dollars worth of silk on and you are not going to ruin it. Jean's distracting Cyke so we can sneak out."

"I need ya," he growled. "Now!"

"Jean did the same thing I did and took off her panties," she told him. "Give her a chance to get Cyke out of our way and we can leave. Keep your eye on them and watch his reaction when she tells him."

They watched as Jean made her way across the room and positioned herself beside her husband. She made small talk for a few seconds before she reached up and whispered in his ear. Almost immediately, his face went as red as his glasses. He murmured something out of the side of his mouth which made her smile knowingly and nod. He grabbed her hand and almost ran out of the room.

"Let's go," Jubilee whispered.

They made it to their room in record time. Jubilee was able to get her dress off before Logan popped a claw and cut it off her. His clothes didn't fare as well.

"Did ya say Jean took her panties off?" he asked when he could think again.

"Ya know," Jubilee yawned, "you're kinda dense sometimes." She snuggled against him and drifted off to sleep, knowing he would wake her up in an hour for another round. She didn't mind. This was their last weekend before she started her period and they were going to make the most of it. She will also take her last birth control pill tomorrow morning. After her period was over, they would depend on two thin layers of latex to protect them from pregnancy and the spontaneous sex will end.

They both knew it would be very difficult for them. In the four and a half months they'd been together, they'd only planned sex once. It was nice but not as nice as the sneak attack strategy that defined most of their relationship. She was fairly uninhibited and Logan had no shame at all. As a result, they had 'baptized' most of the public rooms of the mansion and a good number of private areas as well. They even found time to make the Blackbird rock with their activity. The one place where Logan had refused to make love to her was the forest on the grounds of the estate. Not only had it been winter, but he didn't want to have their commingled scent where Creed could find it. Now that it was spring, she could see that he was itching to get her in his natural environment.

They spent most of the weekend making love and sleeping. They came up for air only twice; once to attend a play arranged by Scott and Jean, the other a lavish dinner paid for by Warren Worthington. The play, they stayed for. Both found it excellent and were highly entertained by the actors and the audience. The dinner was abandoned after the third course. They found the food too fussy and the portions much too small. Logan took pity on her rumbling stomach and took her to his favorite diner where she had the best meatloaf she ever tasted.

"How can Warren stand to eat like that?" she asked as she sopped up the gravy on her plate with a slice of bread. "I'd starve to death if I had to eat those tiny scraps all the time."

"His mutation?" Logan shrugged as he sipped his coffee. "Lighter bones and all."

"But birds can eat half their weight every day," she told him. "I don't see how he eats like that and still keeps his weight up."

"Birds also eat suet," he reminded her.

"Gross, Wolvie," she complained.

"I don't care what Fly-Boy eats." he said, dropping a wad of cash on the table. "Let's go."

She waved good-bye to the pretty waitress and stepped out into the chilly night. A stiff wind blew cold air up her skirt making her shiver. She pulled her coat around her tighter and burrowed into Logans side, searching for warmth.

"Ya wanna go back?" he asked as he pulled her against his side.

"Not yet," she told him. "Why don't we find a bar that doesn't serve Cosmopolitans?"

"Are ya sure darlin'? We ain't dressed fer the kinda dives I usually go to when I'm here."

"It's okay, Logan. I'm wearing panties tonight." She could feel the sudden, possessive growl through his coat and smiled.

"Ya almost killed me with that stunt." he rumbled.

"You loved it." she told him. "Best sex you ever had."

"Cain't argue with ya there." he admitted. They walked on in comfortable silence.

One thing was bothering him. "Why'd ya do it?" he asked.

"I love you," she said, "but you have to learn you can't control me. I will never betray you, ever," she emphasized, "but you have to realize that my body is my own. What happens to me is my responsibility, not yours. I know you want to keep me safe but you can't wrap me up and put me on a shelf." She stopped walking and turned to him, her eyes serious. "Share your love with me, don't smother me with it."

He cupped her face in both hands. "I love you," he said quietly.

She smiled. "I know."

He brushed his lips across hers in a series of feathery kiss. "I can't help bein' protective," he said between kisses, "but if I get too overbearin', just tell me. Don't go doin' somethin' like that again. I almost killed Wings."

"If I do, will you listen?" she asked, her breath coming in short gasps.

"If I don't, ya have my permission ta paff me," he told her as he deepened the kisses.

He slipped his hands under her coat and began to fondle her breasts, lovingly.

"You two might want to find a more private spot," an amused voice said from behind Jubilee.

Logan reluctantly lifted his head and glanced over her shoulder. His eyes met the amused eyes of an elderly gentleman in a clerical collar.

"Sorry, Farther," he said. Jubilee's giggles were directed into his chest.

"Have a nice evening," the man smiled.

"Oh, we plan to," Logan told him, grinning. The elderly priest turned and walked away.

"Father?" Jubilee called after him.

"Yes?" he asked as he turned.

"Is it possible for a man who can't remember his name to marry?" She felt Logan's arm tighten around her.

"God knows his name, child," the old priest smiled, "but the State of New York will insist that they know it as well."

Her disappointment must have shown clearly on her face.

The old man walked stiffly back to them. "Do you love this man and wish to marry him?" he asked gently.

"More than anything in the world," she told him.

"And you, sir," he looked at Logan, "do you love this woman and wish to marry her?"

His face was stone but he gave a curt nod. He didn't dare hope.

"Then by the power vested in me by God, I pronounce you husband and wife." He blessed them both with a quick hand.

He took in their shocked expressions. "In the eyes of God, you are married," he told them. "New York will see it differently."

"But," Jubilee sputtered.

"We don't even know yer name," Logan said, his mouth opening and closing. He knew he was giving them a good impression of a fish, but he couldn't help it. He was too shocked.

"Patrick Martin," he told them holding out his hand. "Until ten years ago, I was a Bishop of New York City. No one will be too terribly surprised that I married you. I always was something of a maverick."

Logan shook the hand of the priest, his heart pounding. Was this for real? Did he really marry them? He couldn't form a coherent thought to save his life.

Jubilee threw herself into the arms of the old Bishop and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she sobbed.

"My pleasure," he smiled. "Enjoy the rest of your night." The old man walked off into the darkness.

Logan gathered his crying wife into his arms. "It ain't legal, Jubes," he murmured, "but it sure feels right."

"I never thought this would happen," she sniffed. "I love you."

"Love ya, too," he said. "Let's go celebrate. I know a bar not far from here that ain't too rough. They might even have champaign."

"Yuck," she said, her nose wrinkling. "I hate champaign. Let's get a couple of imports."

"Molsons?" he asked, eagerly.

"Heineken," she said. "It's smoother."

"Yer on, wife," he smiled.

"Shall we go, husband?" she dimpled.

Arm in arm, they laughed their way to the corner bar and spent the evening celebrating their surprise wedding.

"I wanna propose a toast," Logan called in a loud voice over the Saturday night crowd. He held his beer high and waited for silence. "To my bride, Jubilation: The light o' my life."

"Cheers," the crowd roared.

"And," He yelled, "to Patrick Martin, the guy that did the deed fer us tonight."

The crowd remained strangely silent, staring at him in varying degrees of shock.

"What?" he asked.

"Bishop Martin couldn't have married you tonight," the barkeep said, a strange look on his face. "He died over a year ago."