Author's Notes: This is the sequel to It Could Be Sunshine. That means that this story takes place after the Designer Genes stories in the comics. Each chapter will be written from Bobby and Jono's POVs and marked with a B or J respectively in the chapter title in the drop-down bar. (And yes, the perversion of that is intentional.)

Chapter Two

Dance on Glass

"A whisper and a promise lit on fire
Kiss the hand where the angels dread"
-the Sisters of Mercy

Warren arched a perfect eyebrow at me. I could feel my face try to flush and dropped my temperature accordingly. "This is a bad time?" Warren asked.

"Ya think?" Jubilee cracked, still smirking.

Paige was silent, her eyes huge and her mouth a thin, bitter line - it looked like she'd bitten into a lemon.

"This isn't-I mean-" I couldn't make the words come out right, couldn't stay casual, couldn't ignore a rising sense of panic. Jono, I kept thinking. He's not dressed, they'll see him, he'll be mortified. Jono… I could imagine him leaping gazelle-like behind the shower curtain and curling up in a fetal positions on the bathtub floor.

"I just wanted to tell you that Paige and Jubilee are here, and we need to have a meeting ASAP." Warren's eyes flicked over my shoulder as he spoke. Probably watching Incredible Shy Gazelle. "They have some very interesting news regarding-"

I became aware that Jono was not hiding behind the shower curtain only when I was shouldered roughly to one side. He was still just in his towel and bandages, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He was also clearly pissed off.

*It couldn't wait five bleedin' minutes? Worthington, you wanker.*

Warren looked peeved at that. "Look, this is X business and-"

Jonothon took a menacing step forward and positively loomed. Somehow the fact that he was nearly naked didn't make him look any less threatening. *Shutcher gob, Worthington. We'll meet you in the briefin' room in fifteen minutes loik civilized bloody people but roit now th'lot of yer are goin' ter NAFF OFF!* His 'voice' was practically sizzling with anger and I winced involuntarily. Jonothon then turned on his heel, re-entered the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.

Me, I was leaning against the counter with my mouth hanging open.

*Wot?* Jono snapped. My mouth answered entirely independently of my brain:

"Punk rock."

I giggled, expecting him to deck me but unable to stop myself. To my infinite surprise, he relaxed visibly and ran a hand through his tangled hair. This action did nothing save cause more of it to stick up in wild configurations.

*Plonkers,* he said. *Remind me ter cause Warren serious bodily injury.*

"I'll put it on a post-it note for you." I was still in awe and felt like laughing hysterically until I was back to normal.

*Good.* He stared at his feet, looking all of a sudden miserable and lost. It hurt me to see him look that way so I took my hands off the counter and move forward to punch him lightly on the shoulder.

"I don't think Warren will be teasing you anytime in the near future," I said with a smile before proceeding to imitate his accent, "'Lest ya lob' 'is bleeding 'ead off!"

His eyes crinkled up at the corners in a Jono-smile and I felt my heart lift. *You sound like Dick Van Dyke,* he said. I kissed him between the eyebrows.

"I'm working on that one. Come on, let's get dressed."

We got our clothes back on in relative silence, and I'm proud to announce that I resisted the urge to snap Jonothon's butt with a wet towel. I stood by the door, waiting for him to get his freaking boots back on. Normally I would have exited already so we wouldn't be caught emerging from the bathroom together, but I figured that really wasn't necessary now.

I cocked an eyebrow at him when he joined me at the door. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Jonothon shrugged noncommittally and went out before me.

We walked in silence to the briefing room. As we approached we could hear voices - Paiges' soft drawl followed by Warren's dry, professional tone. He seemed to be explaining something to her quietly. Then Stacy's voice cut through the murmuring like an axe:

"Oh, they're bum-buddies for Chrissake. What's the big deal?"

Jonothon stopped dead and I ran into his back, nearly knocking us both over. He was shaking. Great, I thought. The Briefing Room is now the Gossip Lounge. I moved around Jono and walked into the room, smiling broadly.

"Hey guys, sorry for the wait," I said. Warren, Paige and Stacy looked vaguely guilty. Jubilee was watching me with bright curiosity while Kurt studiously examined his hands, thankfully deciding not to get involved at all.

"So what's so important you had to drop in on a Wednesday night without a hello or a cup of coffee, eh?" I directed the question to Jubilee and Paige as I sank into a chair. Forced myself to relax and keep grinning - good ol' Bobby Drake, ever the joker and never concerned. Meanwhile I felt like I might throw up.

Jonothon had entered the room by now and was standing close to the door, inscrutable.

"As you know," Warren started, "Paige and Jubilee have been overseas as of late. They were in the UK and came across something they thought might be worth checking out."

"Don't keep me in suspense," I said. Jubilee smiled.

"Mutants are totally 'in' over there, as ya already know" she said. "So at first we didn't think nothin' of it."

"Nothing of what?" Stacy asked impatiently.

"I'm getting' to that. Okay, so Guthrie and I were kinda chillin' a little - not really up to the whole savin' the world thing after Paris, yanno? - and we started hearin' all this stuff about this singer guy. This mutant singer guy."

"His name is Aleister Ashbury," Paige interrupted. "Prior to this he was a mutants rights activist. His whole slant is that mutants have been kept from the performing arts for fear of their secret being exposed, and that he is going to be the pioneer that clears the way for others."

"Nothing unusual about that, at least not lately," Kurt commented. "Mutants sell, ja?"

"Yeah," Jubilee said. "That's what we said. I mean, saw the guy a few times on some magazine covers and he's pretty cute, but probably the flavour of the month, yanno?" She glanced at Jono while she said this.

"The reason we came here," Paige went on, "is that we started hearing weird rumours about his concerts."

"Weird like how?" I asked.

"Like people going to them and never coming back," Jubilee said. I nodded slowly.

"What's even more disturbing is that there seems to be a strangely high suicide rate among people who attend the concerts," Paige added. "It's like these kids go to the concert, have a blast, and come home and swallow a bullet."

"Naturally the cops aren't doing anything," Jubilee said and stretched. "I mean, what can they do? There's no evidence. Just lots of dead kids. Dead human kids anyway. Not one of 'em has had the X-Factor so far."

"So you think we're dealing with another homo-superior supremacist?" Warren asked. The girls nodded and I groaned.

"Another one? Oh, man. Can't these guys just go to group therapy or something? 'Hello, my name is Magneto and I'm a mutant neo-nazi.' 'Hi, Magneto!'"

Warren shot me a look. I decided he could bite me.

"Our problem is that he's practically untouchable," Paige said with a sigh. "Except at concerts and interviews and whatnot, he has no contact with the public."

"Celebrities," said Jubilee with an overdramatic shake of her head. "We figure the only hope we have of finding out what's going on is to get somebody on the inside."

Stacy grinned shark-like and crossed her legs. "Colour me a groupie," she said and laughed.

Hey, wait a second. "That's not a bad idea," I said. Warren arched an eyebrow at me. "No, seriously. Ignoring this whole secret agenda thing, the guy is still a musician. And what are the three things sacred to a musician?"

"Sex, drugs and rock'n'roll!" Both Jubilee and Stacy shouted. Warren rolled his eyes.

"Warren," Kurt said thoughtfully. "Due to your dealings with Vanisher's people, you might be able to get a contact there." His sharp white teeth flashed in a smile. "Vith Miss X's help, that would cover two out of three, ja?"

"We can do better than that, even," Jubilee said. "Three for three."

"How's that?" I asked. Jubilee grinned and pointed at Jono, still lurking by the doorway.

"Him."

Everybody just stared incredulously at that one, including me. Jono looked pretty shocked too, actually. Warren looked like he was about to say something and Jubilee held up one hand to halt him.

"Hear me out, here. Word is that Ashbury wants ta start his own label - a la Trent Reznor or something - meaning he'll be looking for new talent to tour with him before signing em on. New mutant talent as a matter of fact. Now, I dunno if he's given it up since becoming a big bad X-Man, but Starsmore there used ta play a mean guitar and he's pretty obviously a mutant."

Kurt looked thoughtful. "One with previous coverage in the media, no less," he said slowly. "Vhat is it they say… 'any publicity is good publicity'?"

Jubilee grinned. "Bingo. So we convince this guy that Jono is the new face - heh - of mutant rock and roll. We also let hints drop that Jono's all for mutant superiority."

"We could use the mess with Sugar Kane," Warren muttered, pacing a little. He was looking a little excited now. "Fuel for his anti-human sentiments. Hm. How much would this cost to fund…?"

Warren and Kurt leaned close together for a moment, muttering over the details. Me, I looked over at Jonothon.

He... didn't look impressed. Okay, that's putting it a little mildly. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides and his shoulders had acquired a defiant hunch. I was suddenly reminded of a conversation we'd had on our first official date, when I'd basically annoyed him into giving me a shot as something more than a fuck-pal.

"What did you want to be once you got older?"

*A rockstar.*

"Seriously?"

*Yes.*

I suddenly got the feeling that this plan was a Very Bad Idea.

"Hey, guys, hold up," I interrupted, but too late.

*I won't do it.*

Everyone turned to look at him and I sighed quietly. Great.

"Chamber," Kurt started, "while this is not guaranteed to work, it significantly ups the odds of getting someone close to Ashbury and-"

*No.* The word was emphatic.

Jubilee looked affronted. "Oh come on, it's a GOOD plan!"

*So get someone else ter do it.*

"There is nobody else!" She said, marching over to look up at Jonothon angrily. The height difference would have been comical under other circumstances. "You're the only frickin' frackin' X-Man who knows his ass from an amp!"

*Tough. Besides, there's one major flaw in yer plan there, gel.* His tone was cold as well, ice.

"Which is?"

*It's a rock label, innit? An' in rock bands, who is it that gets all the attention?*

Understanding dawned on Stacy's face with sudden dismay. "The singer," she answered quietly.

Jonothon waved a hand as if to say 'there you have it.' *Me guitar skills are not so impressive as ter be the second coming of Hendrix,* he said. There was a hollow smugness in his demeanor that I found disturbing. *And I cannot sing.*

Ah, but that was a lie.

Hating myself, I spoke up: "That's not true."

Jonothon shot me a look that warned me that if I wanted to keep him I'd better shut my mouth. But I couldn't; kids were dying, after all. I'd be a pretty shitty superhero if I didn't try to help.

"Vas is it, Robert?" Kurt asked. His eyes were bright needles pricking their way over my face, searching for clues.

I shifted, hyper-aware that I was about to reveal personal information I had no right to divulge. But dammit, what else was I supposed to do? "Jono can sing," I said slowly.

Stacy raised a questioning eyebrow. "Without vocal chords?" she asked doubtfully.

"Well, yeah," I said. "It's just like how he talks. He sings in your mind. It's not like hearing a song, either." They were all looking at me strangely. "I mean… okay. Take the best song you ever heard, the most emotionally charged. Now imagine it in concert, but instead of just hearing it you feel exactly what the singer feels as he sings it." I shrugged uncomfortably. "It's like that. Emotional surround-sound."

"And you've heard this?" Paige asked softly. She wasn't looking at me when she asked.

Sweet Jesus, this went beyond humiliating and all the way into Shamesville. "Well, yeah," I admitted. "Well, not heard, but… you know."

"When?" she asked, her voice still low. I floundered because I couldn't very well tell her that I'd 'heard' him lots of times. I'd heard him singing when we went walking, when he was folding laundry, after we made love. Countless occasions. The first time he'd apologized, embarrassed, but I'd begged him to continue because it felt so good.

*That's not important,* Jono broke in. He sounded vaguely desperate and I felt an instant stab of regret. *Still not goin' ter work. I can't be recorded, regardless.*

"That might not be a problem," Stacy said, almost apologetically. "I mean, this guy's big thing is concerts, right? Couldn't you just, you know, project real loud?"

Jubilee nodded. "Yeah! I mean, it's just to get close to the guy. Heck, if Drake's not exaggeratin' then it's even better this way because it'll be something nobody but a mutant could do." She looked serious - an expression I'm not used to seeing Jubilee wear. "Whaddya say, Jono? Think you can do it?"

Pure dismay flashed in his eyes before he dropped them to the floor and muttered, *Yeah.*

Jubilee grabbed one of Jono's hands and squeezed it quickly before letting it drop. "Thanks," she said simply.

*Yeah, yeah.*

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur as we worked out as many details as possible. Both Jonothon and Paige were both pretty quiet the entire time, something I did not take as a particularly good sign.

Finally the meeting was adjourned. It was decided that we'd haul our asses to the UK the following day and set up a base of operations. Kurt was going to call ahead and clear everything, since he still had connections from his Excalibur days.

"I'm staaaaaaarved," Jubilee exclaimed as we all exited the briefing room. I realized that I'd kinda missed the kid - the mansion was a lot quieter without her, but it had been nice to have somebody besides myself to blame for toilet-papering Warren's Mercedes Benz.

"Hey chicken-boy, how's about you spring for dinner, eh?" Stacy asked, sidling a little closer to Warren, who appeared to be taking inventory of Miss Guthrie's assets.

"Huh?" he said, and I hid a grin. "Oh. Sure. Paige? Woud you care to join us? And you too of course, Jubilee." Warren flashed some impeccable dental work.

"Bring me back a doggy-bag," Kurt said with an over-dramatic sigh. "I have some long-distance calls to make." He bamfed away, leaving Jubilee waving one hand to clear the smoke.

"Bobby?" Warren asked. I shook my head.

"Nah, I'm good. I've got a few things to do, myself."

Stacy's mouth spread into a lazy smirk. "I bet you do," she said and cast a sly glance at Jono, who was already plodding moodily down the hallway.

"Shut up, Stacy," I said pleasantly. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

As I walked away I heard Jubilee, sotto voice, saying, "SOMEbody better fill us in on this new development over dinner."

It never ends.

I found Jonothon in his bedroom, standing in front of his closet with the lights off. There was an open suitcase on his bed - other than that his room was the same mess it usually was.

"Packing?" I enquired. He turned his head slowly to look at me and if looks could kill, I wouldn't be here right now.

*You had no right,* he stated flatly.

I came inside, my hands turned up in front of me in a gesture of peace. "Maybe not. But you know as well as I do that we have responsibilities, and we can't run away from them just because of personal issues." Great. Now I sounded like Cyclops.

*So now I get to play at being a rockstar,* he replied bitterly. He shook his head and uttered a laugh so caustic I winced. *So wot should I pack then, eh?* he asked, gesturing sweepingly at the closet. *Gorra look the part at least.*

I took a cautious step forward. I'd never seen him act so unhinged before. I mean, I've seen him angry and I've seen him depressed but this was something different.

"Well," I said slowly, edging closer. "I like you in leather."

Jono arched an eyebrow at me and I smiled back, hoping it was a sign his mood was improving. *Yer mean yer like peeling me outta it,* he replied. Couldn't argue with that. He turned away from the closet and advanced on me, hands reaching for the belt loops on my pants. He grabbed them and pulled me against him, his eyes boring into mine the whole time. They were hellishly bright; burning with something I wasn't so sure was desire.

"Jono," I started and he silenced me by moving a hand to my crotch and squeezing gently.

*Fuck me.*

Fuh. Shnnyeah. Other such nonsense words.

"Uh," I managed.

Jonothon let go of me and with one quick movement removed his sweater and tossed it aside. I remembered how reluctant he'd been in the bathroom and felt a surge of disbelief. He stood there for a minute, slender and wraith-like. Then he was pressing against me again, long fingers tangling in my hair. I felt his bandaged cheek rasp down the side of my face and I closed my eyes.

I could feel him tickling my brain again, igniting urgent physical responses. But underneath that, a seething desperation lurked. It scared me a little.

"Jono," I said, somehow regaining control of my motor functions enough to push him away. "I'm not sure if this is, you know, if this is a great idea."

He dropped his hands to his sides and looked away, his body a live wire I was afraid to touch. I was about to say something, I don't know what, when he spoke again, very low. The words quivered in my mind.

*Do you have... any idea... wot it's like t'have the one thing you wanted most taken away from you?* he asked. *And then, just when yer think you've finally gotten over it, just when you start t'bury dreams that 'ave died… It's offered t'yer once again. Only this time, it's not the same.* He scrubbed a hand over his face and I wondered if he was crying. *Not the same.*

He moved past me and sat down on the bed, long hands dangling between his thighs and his head down. Looking at him I felt awful, I mean really awful, and the hell of it was that there wasn't much I could do.

After a moment I sat down beside him and carefully put an arm around his thin shoulders, expecting him to jerk or move away. He did neither, just sat there like a puppet with cut strings. "Jono," I said, my voice thick and too quiet. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Jono, hey. It's gonna be alright."

He turned to look at me and I regretted opening my big dumb mouth. *Awlroit?* he asked. *It's goin' ter... Gordon Bennet!* He fell backwards and my arm slipped from his shoulders. He covered his eyes with one hand for a minute before looking up at me.

*Robert, you are by far the most ridiculous person I've ever met in me life.*

It didn't sound like an insult so I shrugged and smiled a little. "I get that a lot."

*Lay down. Please.*

I did as he asked, so now both our legs were hanging off the side of the bed. "Hey," I said. "Maybe we should move so we're laying the right way, here…"

He rolled onto his side and pressed against me, one arms reaching across my stomach to hold me in a panicky grip while he buried his face against my shoulder. I twisted my head to look down and saw his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked quietly.

*No.*

Fair enough. We lay there together, in the dark, legs hanging off the edge of the bed or jutting into space, not speaking, for what seemed a very long time.

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