Chapter 6: Meeting

She froze.

For one long, harrowing minute all she could do was stand there and stare at the man who had been her best friend, mentor, and partner so long ago. Time seemed to stop for both of them; movement stopped around them, and her field of vision narrowed down to the man in front of her. He stared at her, similarly frozen.

Her first reaction was Oh, God, poor Wolvie…because his healing factor plainly wasn't working as efficiently as it had the last time she'd seen him, almost a century ago. His hair had a few strands of silver, his face had a few more lines, and he just looked so tired and…old. She wasn't used to seeing him old. In her mind's eye, he was still the gruff, invincible protector who had comforted her and guided her through her teen years. And she had to restrain the impulse to fling her arms around him and hug him, because seeing him after so many years made her want to cry. A lump formed in her throat, and she took a step forward, his name forming on her lips but left unsaid.

And then her next reaction kicked in. Anger. He had left her, all those years ago, after injuring her in a fit of grief. Why was he intruding now, here, when she had gotten her life back together, gotten herself used to being alone? She shouldn't feel sorry for him; he'd chosen whatever path led to this meeting, here, now, and as she'd learned in the century between them, a century of distance both physically and emotionally, she shouldn't pity him. He should apologize to her.

Logan swallowed hard. He hadn't been expecting to see her here, now. His reaction was shock. Oh, God, poor Jubes…she had gotten the nanites at just that point in time when she was in her prime; her body seemed frozen in the middle of womanhood. She might be 116, but she physically looked no more than twenty-five. But she wasn't the happy, carefree teenager he remembered from before that terrible, disastrous incident; she looked worn and tired. The soul that looked out of her eyes was an old soul, a soul who had seen too many cares, troubles, and terrible things to ever forget them. And at that moment, he wanted to fold her in his arms, hug her tightly, and never let her go again. She was his girl, his precious Jubes. Life wasn't fair to her.

Then the expression on her face changed, went from recognition, pity, and sorrow to anger, loss, betrayal, and even though she didn't say a word, he almost flinched at her unspoken accusation. A familiar feeling flooded his heart; guilt. The same guilt he'd been feeling since he left, since he'd turned his back on her because in his anger he'd blamed her for the death of the woman he'd loved. The unspoken blame hung in the air between them, a wedge driven into their hearts, keeping them apart for a century now and perhaps longer…then her face changed, crumpled in sorrow and remorse and (even more shockingly) guilt, and she started to turn, to fade backward into the crowd and leave him alone.

The guilt and remorse in her eyes drove him forward that one last step, the step he'd avoided taking for a century, and he touched one bare arm. "Jubilee…"

She turned and flung herself at him, burying her face in the lapel of the dinner jacket he'd had to wear in order to get in here. "Wolvie, please, I know you're mad, I'm sorry, I never said it before, but I mean it, I am sorry…" She inhaled a sharp breath, almost but not quite crying into his jacket, and Logan swallowed hard.

"Jubilee—" the name still fell smoothly from his lips even after a century of never having spoken it. "Come on, let's go somewhere quiet an' outta the way so I can talk ta ya."

She nodded. He shot a quick glance at Carey, who had insisted on escorting him here and 'backing' him up (what did he need backup for?) and the tall African woman nodded quietly to him and melted into the crowd. He had to admire her sense of discretion, though he had to wonder about what she was feeling, seeing her 'date' suddenly dumping her for another girl. All that vanished as he turned to Jubilee and took her arm. "Come on, Jubes." There was an electric tingling in his fingers as he guided her, hand on her elbow, to one of the large gilded French doors leading out to a lovely flower garden.

They walked out, away from the other people, and Logan stopped when they got to an iron bench under a tree. "Jubilee…" he looked at her, saw the silvery tears on her face, streaming from her blue eyes, and cut his words off in the middle. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug like the ones he had given her so long ago. And she raised her arms, hugged him back, and the wall between them started to crumble to dust. "Wolvie…"

"Jubes…"

She looked at him fully, placing a long, slim finger against his lips. "Ssshhh. I need to get something off my chest. I'm sorry, Logan. You were right, and I was wrong. I was so selfishly bent on pursuing my own pleasure I didn't think about the consequences. When I sneaked off to the mall that day I was being selfish again…and because I did, Ororo and Kurt died." There was a tremor in her voice. "And you were right when you accused me of causing their deaths. If I hadn't been so self-centered, they would have lived, and you wouldn't have left—"

Logan placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "Hush a moment, will ya?" he said gruffly, his own voice none too steady. "Always runnin' yer mouth off. Let me get a word in. Yeah, ya were selfish…but ya weren't ta blame fer 'Ro an' Kurt dyin', an' I shoulda never told ya you was. We all knew we could die when we signed up fer Chuck's superhero gig. Kurt an' Ro decided ta go rescue ya. Nothin' ya coulda done woulda saved either one o' them, an' you were dealin' with yer own problems then. An' it wasn't fair o' me ta accuse ya, an' I was way outta line when I threw the damn computer at ya an' hurt ya. Ya know what made me leave, Jubilee? It was watchin' ya cringe when I reached out to ya, seein' the fear in yer eyes. It hurt me ta see you pull away, because I'd told you I'd always be there fer ya, an' I'd never hurt ya. I broke that promise, an' I couldn't face ya with the knowledge o' that broken promise between us. So I did what I always did; I ran. An' by the time I got up the courage ta come back an' face ya with the knowledge of what I did, you had left the X-Men, and was gone. An' I was maybe a little afraid o' facin' yer anger, an' maybe a little relieved ta find out that I didn't have ta face ya, and I left again an' I never went back. Jubes…darlin'…" he floundered, having run out of words. Finally he said quietly, "Fergive me?"

Jubilee swallowed hard. "Yes, of course. Wolvie, I forgave you a long time ago, I just didn't know it until now. I never could be mad at you, you know." She hugged him as tightly as she could, and Logan rested his chin on her shoulder, sighing gently. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders now, and he felt suddenly younger.

They stood that way for a time, Logan smelling the salt tang of tears falling silently from her eyes, then Jubilee pulled away and dabbed delicately at her eyes with one knuckle. "Mustn't ruin my makeup…"

"What, their fancy little nanites can't fix it for you?" She stared at him, startled, and he grinned wolfishly, the old grin that had been so familiar in days long past. "Yeah, I know 'bout them nanites. Jubes…I was afraid you'd be mad at me…but I was afraid ta let go. You were all I had left, and while I had driven you away with my carelessness, I needed ta still have ya near me, in some way. I kept a picture o' you; I kept tabs on where ya went, an' what happened ta you, I kept little news clippings and stuff o' you." She still cared about him. She forgave him. That last loose end in his life had been tied up neatly.

Jubilee laughed, a free, happy carefree laugh that made Logan's eyes sting with unshed tears. "I tried to keep track of you. I've hard your address, and the address of the bar in Madripoor, for ages and ages. And every now and then I check to make sure it's still there and the address and numbers were current. I just didn't have the guts to come and see you." She looked at him, her eyes soft. "I guess you missed me as much as I missed you."

"Yeah, I did." Logan smiled as he admitted it. "So hey. You here to kill Estillo too?"

Jubilee stared at him in shock, then remembered what he'd said; he knew what she'd been up too. And suddenly she looked nervous. Surely he wouldn't approve… "Yes."

Logan sighed. "Jubes, you're a grown woman—hell, if you didn't have those nanites you'd be pushin' up daisies by now—so I can't tell you what you can or can't do. But I don't like the thought of my little girl killin' someone else, especially for the damn government. The same damn government who gave Bastion the go-ahead ta torture an' brutalize an' hurt ya. But while I'm not real enthusiastic about what ya come here ta do, I came here to do the same thing…an' if ya let me, Jubes, I'll kill him fer ya so you don't have to."

Jubilee sighed. "Logan, I'm not all that thrilled about killing either. But this is what my bosses say I have to do, so I'll do it. I do have the latitude to 'reject' certain 'assignments', and sometimes I do when I don't feel the target they want me to kill deserves it. But in this case, I have to say I agree with the government; Estillo doesn't deserve to live. And I'm going to take particular pleasure in executing him. So let me do my job, okay?" She gave him a quick kiss. "I'd better go before Estillo looks for me and doesn't find me in there. If you know so much about me, Logan, you know where my apartment is in DC. Look me up there in a couple of weeks." She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and headed for the doors, leaving Logan feeling dazed. He sat down on the bench under the tree, unconsciously caressing the cheek Jubilee had kissed, and stared into space for a moment.

Carey suddenly materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, and sat beside him. "That's the little girl you have a picture of on your nighttable?" she asked. "She doesn't look all that much older than the picture."

Logan grinned. "She's a hundred and sixteen years old," he said, leaning back against the bench. "Looks good, don't she?" Now that the shock had worn off, he could appreciate her grown-up beauty. He could just see her, approaching Estillo and taking the champagne flute he handed her.

"Mmm." Carey gave a noncommittal grunt. "Healing factor like yours?"

"Naw, nanotechnology. Makes her look like she's got a healing factor, though, doesn't she?"

Carey didn't respond to that. "What's she doing here?" she asked instead, peering after Jubilee as the other girl disappeared into the crowd.

Logan sighed. "Same thing I'm doing here. Trying to kill that bastard. Looks like she's closer to doing it than I am. I may just let her." A bitter note crept into his voice. "After all, she got this far without me, she'll continue doing just fine without me."

Carey stared at him. "Situations change," she said slowly. "No one is an island. And besides, you were supposed to kill the dictator yourself, for your contact. If you don't kill him, you'll have to give the money back." She smiled slowly. "And what better way to bond with your former protégé than collaborating to kill someone?"

Logan stared at Carey. "How did you know…She's my…who are you?"

Carey opened her mouth to respond when there was a sudden commotion in the ballroom. "Everybody stand back!" Logan's sensitive hearing picked up the sound of Estillo's voice among the ripples of murmurs. "Give her some room…it must have been the wine…she said she's not used to it…guards, take her up to my room…"

Logan lunged toward the open French doors. Jubilee!

He had to push and shove quite a few people before he got to the center of the room, only just in time to see the Dictator's personal assistant clap his hands self-importantly in the center of the room. "Please, please, it was just a little incident. Be assured, our esteemed Presidente Estillo will care for the poor girl who just collapsed. Please, enjoy yourselves, and he will be back down momentarily."

Logan took a deep sniff. Mixed in among the heavy scents of cologne, perfume, aftershave, and body sweat from the guests, he could just barely pick out Jubilee's body scent from the air. And that scent was saturated with the smell of anticipation. She was making her move, then. He turned to Carey, who had followed him. "I'm going to check on her. We probably won't be rejoining the dance. Just go back to the hotel."

Carey was fumbling in her tiny purse for something even as he spoke. Taking her hand out of her purse, she pressed herself close to him, hugging him tightly, unexpectedly, her hands sliding under his dinner jacket and pressing against his back through the thin dress shirt and heavier stealth clothing he wore under his monkey suit. "Be careful," she said tightly, quickly, and then turned away, disappearing a moment later in the crowd. Logan stared at her, wondering what the hell that was all about, then forgot all about her as the faint sound of a scream reached his ears. Jubilee! He ran up the stairs two at a time. He was in so much of a hurry that he never felt the tiny hard lump of a thin metal disc on his back under the jacket.

Carey watched him go, then hurried to the ladies room unnoticed by anyone. Inside the stall, she quickly shucked the fancy gown she wore, cursing Logan's pigheadedness. "Didn't even want me to come…couldn't figure out why I did…Damn the man! And damn you, Nate, for suckering me into this! I could be at the Mansion right now sleeping!" She gave her head an annoyed shake and shimmied out of the full-skirted gown. Underneath it, she wore a form-fitting black skin-tight uniform with green inserts—

…and a red circle, quartered by a black X, on the breast of her uniform.

Jubilee had walked up to Estillo, who was plainly annoyed at her absence, and took the glass of champagne from him, taking a sip. "Thank you," she said in her Chinese accent. "I was hot, and went out for air."

Estillo's smile got, if that was possible, wider. "That's quite all right. I was simply wondering where you'd gone." He took her arm, leading her off to one side of the ballroom as he spoke. Jubilee, to cover the awkwardness and hoping that he hadn't seen her with Logan, took another sip of her champagne.

Her face suddenly flushed pink, then paled. She could feel the blood draining from her face, and then suddenly her legs refused to obey her commands and she found herself sinking to the floor. A neurotoxin! He had slipped something in her drink to paralyze her and send her into a faint. Probably was supposed to last a long time, she reflected, but her nanites were negating the toxin quickly. However, if she pretended it had taken effect…she let herself slump bonelessly to the floor.

She felt herself being lifted in a pair of strong arms, and carried away. Guards, she supposed. Estillo must have given them the signal he'd told them to watch for. Good. They thought the neurotoxin was working, then. She concentrated on getting the nanites to keep the toxin in her stomach, not letting it slip into her system. As soon as she could, she'd have to eliminate the contents of her stomach to get rid of the toxin. Good thing she hadn't eaten much this evening. She kept herself limp as they carried her up the imposing marble staircase she'd seen from the ballroom floor.

The guards put her down on a soft surface—a bed, she figured—with a none-too-gentle thump, and she heard Estillo say, "That's good. The drugs will keep her immobile while I do what I want to do. I don't know what those nanites the Middle Eastern Conglomerate told me about can do, but obviously she's out and won't pose much of a threat. I'll call you when I'm ready to have her packaged for delivery to them."

Jubilee would have gasped in surprise if she'd been able. The Middle Eastern Conglomerate! They had been the country closest to the United American States to making effective use of advanced nanotechnology. It looked like Estillo had set this up, knowing she would be sent here to kill him. And he had turned into the predator, with her as the prey, and she was now going to be packaged for delivery to another country to be used as a lab rat! She had to fight her indignation, keeping still as the guards started top leave the room. As soon as they were gone…

Estillo smiled at her. "I know you can hear me. The neurotoxin paralyzes the body but leaves the other senses intact. I guess you're wondering what's going on," he said. "I expect you thought you'd come here, assassinate me for your precious government, and succeed. What you didn't take into consideration is that I knew you. I knew you were the assassin as soon as I saw you. I was watching for you, you know The Conglomerate wants you alive, so they can study how your government put you together. So they contacted me. I will give them you, and they will give me weapons of sufficient quality and quantity so as to allow me to take complete control of San Juarez." The door was closing behind the last guard…almost ready now…

He smiled as he trailed a hand down Jubilee's arm. "Such a beautiful girl. I hadn't expected you to be so pretty. I didn't expect my appetites to be fanned into lustful flames by the simple sight of you. But I have a simple remedy for that. They want you, but they won't care if you arrive with a few more bruises. So." He leaned over her, and placed hands at her dress's neckline.

Jubilee lunged for the fat man, silently and quickly. As one hand came up around his throat, her other hand ripped away the panels of her dress, leaving the shredded remains on the floor as she buried her fingers in his neck. He barely had enough time to get out a short scream before she had crushed shut his windpipe. She threw her head back and screamed, mostly to cover the sound of his choked-off cry, hoping that would make the guards think Estillo was assaulting her. They might hesitate to step in if they thought he might get upset with them for interrupting his 'fun'. She froze that way for a long moment, listening for the sound of the guards returning. And then there was the distinct sound of a body hitting the door, and seconds later the door flew open.

Logan stood there on the threshold.