Chapter One: The Amazon Physicist

Jubilee resisted the urge to take a swipe at the sweaty jock that clumsily tumbled into her. She counted to ten and reminded herself that he wasn't solely to blame. Columbia University's brand spanking new Reed Hall was bulging at its seams with course and club information booths, not to the mention hundreds of eager freshmen pretending they weren't all shell-shocked by the insane array of distractions that varsity life has to offer. It was a human pinball machine - and a wonder anyone got where they needed to be with only a minimum of PG-rated swearing and violence.

Jubes gave herself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to leave Shogo at home. Heaven knows how the infant would've reacted to the maelstrom before her. As contented as he was most of the time, Shogo tended to get cranky in large, noisy crowds.

While his mom was fighting an intense desire to commit freshman genocide, Sho was most likely napping under the watchful eye of Broo, who had taken quite a liking to the squidgy little humanoid. Supernanny may have some reservations about a member of a parasitic alien species doing babysitting duty, but Jubilee had confidence in the broodling's ability to take care of her son. Besides, if Shogo had as much as a scratch on him when his mom got home, Broo was smart enough to know a myriad of unspeakable horrors awaited him.

Jubilee pushed her way through the masses towards a quieter corner of the hall, housing the only booth that did not have a throng of people around it. Unlike the other tables, the Science Department's stand still had stacks of information pamphlets and branded souvenirs to hand out to prospective enrollees.

But the general absence of interest was not the only thing that made the Science Department booth unique.

Fixedly grinning at the empty space before her was the epitome of an Amazon. The young, statuesque blonde might not have had Ororo's natural, regal poise, but Bobby still would've rated her at least an eight on the Drake hotness scale.

Donna Mirowsky excelled at dispelling stereotypes, even from birth. When her parents were informed their premature newborn would only survive a few hours outside of the womb, baby Donna amazed hospital staff by not just surviving, but thriving. Some years later, a teacher who presumed that the daughter of two non-English speaking immigrants would never blossom in school was proven spectacularly wrong as the girl's reports cards only ever sported 'A' grades. Later still, as a teen, Donna led her small-town basketball team to the state finals, with very little funding or coaching; the strong-willed girl's single-minded determination carried the team.

It was this same drive that landed her a coveted spot among the academic elite. Two years into her nursing diploma, a boyfriend had made a chauvinistic remark maligning cheerleaders, blondes and algebra; by the following week Donna had changed her major to pure mathematics just to prove him wrong. And now, with two years left till graduation, she was already the department's brightest star.

But Donna's had no illusions over why she was manning this deserted table during orientation week, and it had nothing to do with her flawless academic record. Dr Gura simply wanted a pretty face to greet the fresh meat.

Unfortunately for Dr Gura, being warm and welcoming was not among Donna's many talents. She had no time for something so trivial as pleasantry.

To that end, Donna decided that her humiliation was best endured by forcing a smile, and pawning off the more annoying freshers to Kevin, the awkward junior who had volunteered to man the booth with her.

As the latest fresh young thing practically bounced towards her deserted table, Donna fought the urge to roll her eyes. 'Poor darling is probably lost,' she thought, inspecting the tiny frame. Far too young to be an undergrad; she was probably the jail-bait girlfriend of a freshman looking to swipe some free varsity swag.

Donna did her best to look intimidating, lifting her nose slightly in the air, hoping the girl would decide that Kevin was more inviting and ask him whatever inane question she had.

But the child did not seem to take the hint, rolling right up to Donna and trying her best to catch the Amazon's eye.

'Ahmm hi,' said the girl as her gaze fell on the stacks of neatly arranged flyers. The nymph picked up one of Dr Holgersson's tutoring pamphlets and inspected it closely for a second before shoving it into her oversized book bag. What nerve! But Donna reminded herself to remain calm - the day was nearly over.

'The ladies room is out the door to your right. There's a sign. You can't miss it.' Donna spoke mechanically, assuming this girl, like the tens before, her was just looking for directions to the restroom and was too embarrassed to ask.

The nymph stopped palming pamphlets and gave Donna a quizzical look, followed quickly by a wry smile. 'That's nice,' she said, 'I'll pass it along if I see anyone looking super desperate for a pee.'

Jubilee noticed the tall blonde's throat contracting ever so slightly. Had anyone ever dared use the word 'pee' in front of her before? Jubes recognised that muscle spasm; Paige got that same flinch whenever anyone said anything even mildly crude to her. And as much as she loved the southern overachiever, it was just too easy to yank her conservative chain.

Jubilee craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the badge the Amazon had affixed to her immaculate jacket; it identified her as "Donna".

She then noticed Donna shifting her weight nervously between her feet. Was her intense stare making the blonde uncomfortable? Jubilee smirked at the thought.

'Sorry, Donna, but I'm not looking for directions to the nearest pot' - the muscles on Donna's smooth neck went wild - 'but I would like to sign-up for Computational Statistics and Probability 201, though.'

It was Donna's turn to give the girl a funny look. Computational Statistics and Probability was a very specialised module, with a stupefying amount of coursework. Most second years preferred to leave it till much later in their studies, when they'd had their fill of wild parties and cheap alcohol.

'I'm afraid,' said Donna in her clipped manner, 'that module requires you to have signed-up and received departmental permission three months in advance. Your course co-ordinator should have told you that last year.'

The girl did not answer, but simply kept smiling up at her. Donna was getting frazzled now. There was something frightfully unnerving about this tiny creature. Maybe it was the way those unusual blue eyes seemed to be staring straight through her.

'If you are transferring from another university, you'll have to contact the head of our department, Dr Garu. But you'll most likely be rejected - Dr Holgersson's classes are over-subscribed as it is.'

'No, I go here,' the girl replied cheerfully - and for a split-second Donna could have sworn those cerulean eyes flashed crimson red.

'You go here?' Even to her own ears, Donna's voice sounded strangled and pitched slightly too high. But she felt right to be incredulous; compared to other departments, theirs was relatively small, and most of the students knew each other, even if just by sight.

'I don't think I've seen you around here before.'

'Well of course not, silly.' Jubilee made sure her voice dripped with honey as she delivered what she hoped was the killing blow: 'I'm a BA psychology freshman.'

Donna's face dropped. She was a woman of facts and logic, and this simply did not compute. 'A BA undergrad?' The Amazon croaked the words as if they were poisonous.

'Yip, a psych major, with a minor in theatre studies.' Then leaning across the table closer to the mortified Donna, she whispered conspiratorially: 'You know, for all the hot drama guys.'

Donna suddenly snapped back to reality, now thoroughly annoyed with this presumptive little brat.

'You must be lost. Humanities are on the other side of the hall. We do serious work here.' Donna put a solid tonne of emphasis on the word "serious".

But Jubilee wasn't fazed in the slightest. 'Good to hear it. I'd hate to think I was signing up to for slacker's ed.'

Donna couldn't believe what she was hearing. Maybe the girl was mentally unsound or... 'Is this some kind of prank? Did Frank set you up to this?'

'Look, I don't know who da funk Frank is, but I think it's clear you can't help me. So why don't you just point me in the direction of someone who can.'

Donna turned away abruptly, washing her hands of this strange situation and leaving her hen-pecked colleague to handle it. Kevin tried to be helpful, even recommending other possible avenues the girl could pursue in the future if she wanted to change her major. But Jubes realised that he, too, wasn't all that enthused at the prospect of sharing his academic space with a BA undergrad.

Jubilee left Reed Hall feeling deflated about her future prospects. Messing with Donna was fun, but it hadn't brought her any closer to Dr Mattias Holgersson.

As easy as finding the good doctor had been, getting regular access to him was proving trickier than she had first thought. The man was the Salinger of physics, only skulking out of his office to lecture his mandated hours. And while he made time to tutor a few promising students, he was almost never seen speaking to anyone else.

'So much for not having to come up with an elaborate scam,' thought the former firecracker as she made her way across the parking lot to her yellow Beetle, a "graduation" gift from Scott and Emma before either's infamous run-in with the Phoenix Force.

Jubilee shoved down as far as she could those negative feelings that bubbled to the surface whenever she thought of Scott Summers. That particular hurt was still too fresh to intellectualise.

Rather, she needed to keep her mind firmly nailed to the task at hand. Years of living on the hard streets of LA and saving the world had forged in the slight vampire a stubborn streak a mile long, and there was no way she was giving up on getting to the silly doctor so easily.

In the end, it would take equal amounts of hounding, flirting and downright badgering every person in Physics before she figured out how to carve herself a way in: she would use the department's own inbred elitistism against itself.

She realised the upper crust of science, just like anyone else, loved to rub elbows with the biggest shots. And she knew just the person they'd go ape-shit for.