X2 with Jubilee

- Heavenstar3

Disclaimer: Same as the other chapters

Notes (IMPORTANT):

First, I am SO, SO SORRY for not updating in a long time. More than 2 years. Bad, bad me :(

Second, I want to thank all the people who have reviewed and put me on their alerts. You guys rule.

Third, I plan on finishing this story this month (March), hopefully. Then I'm going to finish ALL of my other stories.

Well, that's all I have to say. Oh, sorry for any misspelled or wrong words. Hope to see you again in chapter 8.

I hope you enjoy.

'Italics' with quotes are thoughts

Chapter 7

[3rd Person POV]

Ronny Drake had a teenager's obsession with privacy and personal space. He'd marked his territory accordingly, with a huge sign on the door that said RONNY'S ROOM, STAY THE F**K OUT! Mom had wanted to tear it down, but Bobby had defused the situation by hijacking a pair of anime panda stickers—so cute they made Powerpuff Girls look hardcore—and using them to cover the middle two letters. Ronny hated him for doing that, Bobby got to play the damn hero as always, but at least he got to keep his sign.

All he could see, though, in the center of his room was a torn and bloody T-shirt. Not his. Not Bobby's, 'cause he had his own room. That meant a stranger had been in here.

The TV monitor caught his attention, turned to Fox News Channel—more proof that his privacy had been violated. This was a channel he had never watched, until now. It wasn't the reporter, doing his stand-up from the White House lawn, that caught his attention, but what the man was saying.

"...in the wake of the assassination attempt on President McKenna, there are unconfirmed reports of a raid on what is believed to be an underground terrorist mutant organization based in Westchester County, New York...

"Authorities refuse to comment, but it's believed that a national manhunt for several fugitives from the facility is now under way..."

Watching, listening, looking from the screen to the sodden shirt on the floor, Ronny's expression changed. Bobby was his big brother, but he didn't know anything about the people who were with, except that they creeped Ronny out, big-time. Well, maybe not that cute Asian girl. She was pretty.

He picked up the phone, hoping he was doing the right thing, terrified of what might happen if those other mutants found out. Half expecting his brain to be incinerated at any moment, he pressed 911.

Downstairs, Madeline Drake put her head in her hands. "Oh, God, this is all my fault."

Before Bobby could even try to make things better, John Allardyce jumped in to make them worse. "Actually," he said, "they've discovered that males are the ones who carry mutant genes and pass them on to the next generation, so I guess that makes it"-he jutted his thumb towards Bobby's dad- "his fault."

William Drake ignored the comment, although his son looked ready to make the other boy eat the words.

Jubilee elbowed John. "Not helping," she hissed quietly to him, but John being John just shrugged.

Madeline tried again to be the gracious hostess: "And you," she said looking at Rogue and Jubilee, "you're all gifted?"

Both Rogue and Jubilee shot daggers at John, who returned them as a grin. "Some of us more than others," Rogue replied tightly. "Others who shouldn't ever be allowed out in public," Jubilee said nodding to John.

"What's that?" William said, reacting to a beep.

Logan had the little com unit in his hand. "That's mine," he said. "'Scuse me." And he slipped through the kitchen to the backyard porch, with Madeline's next line to her son to speed him on his way.

"Bobby," she said, "dearest, have you tried...not being a mutant?"

Bobby sighed. Rogue looked disappointed. Jubilee look at Madeline like she was nuts. John...John laughed out loud.

"Charley," Logan said and his face lit up at the voice that replied.

"Logan," cried Jean, "thank God it's you! We couldn't reach anyone at the mansion."

"No one's left," he told her bluntly. "Soldiers came."

Aboard the Blackbird, Jean sank into her chair. They'd speculated about the possibility of some kind of hostile action, they'd made what they hoped were adequate preparations, but none of them really took it seriously. In a way, they believed too much in their own press: Xavier's was a school. How could anyone perceive that as a threat?

But then again, she considered, Islamic madrasas were schools as well, and many in the intelligence community believed them to be a spawning ground for terrorists.

"What about the children?" she asked.

"Some escaped," he reported, "but I'm not sure about the rest."

Jean created sparks as she shifted position, and she shot a warning glare at Storm, whose anger was supercharging the air inside the plan with electricity. Not a good thing, generating a bolt of lightning inside a plane loaded with jet fuel and other combustibles.

"We haven't been able to reach the professor or Scott, either," she said. The conclusion was obvious to both of them: In all likelihood, they were lost, too.

Storm spoke into her own headset: "Logan, where are you?"

"Boston," he said, "with Bobby Drake's family."

"Do they-" Jean started to ask, providing a snort of amusement from the other end.

"Oh, yeah!"

"All right," she said, leaning across to the center console to initiate the engine start-up sequence, "we're on our way."

"Storm?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"Make it fast."

The two women looked at each other, both recognizing the subtle change in Logan's voice.

"Five minutes," Jean told him as she locked her harness closed and mentally told Nightcrawler to grab his chair and do the same.

"Make it fast," he repeated, and signed off active audio, leaving only the carrier signal for them to home in on.

The picture of nonchalance, he patted his pockets for a smoke, sighed loudly when he didn't find one, and reentered the house in two quick steps. Without turning his body, he snapped the lock closed on the door and took the next two steps into the living room.

So what do you think? Hopefully, I still have my readers out there. Please review, but please no flames. I'm a very sensitive person. Thanks.