Timeline Housekeeping: So this is our first flashback interlude. This takes place about four months after Wolverine, Psylocke and Jubilee join back up with the rest of the X-Men. Bishop has just recently landed on the mansion doorstep, too.

I know some of you may question my portrayal of the X-Men in this chapter, but please keep in mind that at this point in time, many of these characters were still basically strangers. The O5 had just rejoined the main team, along with Gambit, Jubes, Bishop and a more serious ninja Betsy. This is the X-family as they were then.

Jubilee, you'll also notice, is a bit of a brat. This fits with her earlier portrayals; Hama and Claremont both preferred a pretty cynical and abrasive firecracker. In hindsight, it makes tonnes of sense - it would've taken a street kid some time to trust and warm up to her new family, and for them to see beyond the mask of obnoxiousness.

General Housekeeping: Reviews – V, candy bonding is the best kind of bonding there is - not to be confused with candy bondage which is totally different... ;)

Also thanks goes to magistrafarris for the Fav. :)

If any of you are interested in learning more about fractals, I highly recommend the Fractal Foundation's website. Some of the images will melt your brain.

Enjoy!

Chapter Nine: Interlude - White Lights: Part One.

"A fractal is a never-ending pattern. Infinitely complex - they are created by repeating a simple process over and over in an ongoing feedback loop. Driven by recursion, fractals are images of dynamic systems – the pictures of Chaos." - Fractal Foundation

'An art museum? You gotta be freakin kiddin' me!'

A passing tourist gave the loud teenager a disapproving look, and Bobby Drake groaned inwardly. Trust Logan's gregarious sidekick to make a scene in front of one of the New York's most popular tourist attractions.

'Remember, keep a low profile, we don't want any trouble,' Cyclops had warned the group as they were leaving the hotel. Bobby knew Ol' Fearless Leader would have preferred it if everyone just mulled around the Hilton till the Mutant Registration Conference was over. Luckily, Jean had reminded her anally-retentive partner of Charles' promise that those X-Men not on security detail could spend their time in the Big Apple however they wished.

It was only as Bobby, Rogue and Remy were about to leave that the telepath had coerced them into bringing a sulking Jubilee along.

A low profile? Bobby mused. With this obnoxious, bubblegum-chewing mallrat? No way! That god-awful yellow raincoat was brighter than most Times Square billboards!

The Iceman tried to freeze out the frustrated young girl's bitchin' as she continued to deride Rogue choice in tourist attraction.

'...I mean this is the NYC, it has the Avengers' mansion, the Fantastic Four building and something called Hell's Kitchen, but cornpone over here picks an art museum?!'

The teenager stomped a sneakered foot on every word. She was a walking time-bomb, but Rogue hoped to defuse her.

'Now Sugah, we had ourselves a deal, 'member? We each gotta pick an activity.'

Bobby might not have been that hyped on the idea of spending his first morning off in months at the Museum of Modern Art – otherwise known as MOMA – but neither was he in the mood to stand outside arguing with Jubilation Lee.

'Come on, Jubes, embrace culture! You might even like it.'

'I seriously freakin' doubt it,' the teenager muttered around a wad of pink gum.

Remy could only sigh. Miffed that his plans to spend some quality time alone with his beautiful southern counterpart had come apart once more, the Cajun wasn't about to let one teeny girl place a damper on Rogue's morning.

'Drake migh' be right, petite. They say art be windows into da painter's soul.'

'Bullshit,' Jubilee shot back, ignoring the disapproving glares from the three adults. 'You're just here to case the joint and get into her pants.'

Not waiting for Remy to respond, the firecracker trudged towards MOMA's sliding doors, like a martyr being lead towards a pire. Her sullen expression spoke volumes, not to mention the way her small shoulders slumped as she entered the glass behemoth of art. Jubilee had imagined a vastly different, more exciting romp for her first visit to the Big Apple.

In fact, Logan should've been the one showing her around.

When the Professor had announced his plans to attend the conference, extending an open invitation for any of the mansion residents to join him, Hank and Jean, Jubilee had jumped at the chance to see the New York for the first time. She babbled non-stop for days about all the possible adventures that awaited her and her mentor in the big city. Of course Jean and Ororo had to remind her more than once that the trip was only for a couple of days, hardly enough time to see and do all that she dreamed of.

But Jubliee wasn't to be dissuaded. 'Cool stuff,' she informed the two women and anyone else she could corner, 'always happens when Wolvie's around.'

As the girl's excitement mounted, everyone in the mansion waited for the object of her obsession to tell her to slow down, and come back to earth. But the Wolverine remained silent, letting the girl happily carry on.

Three weeks later, as the mansion residents were about to leave, the Canadian was nowhere to be found, having taken off suddenly two days before, and leaving his sidekick with only a vague promise of returning in time. Jean confided in Rogue that she imagined Logan, realising nothing could live up to the girl's expectations, had taken the easy way out.

Now with no Wolvie to shadow, Jubilee has been saddled with what she considered to be the lamer of the X-Men, and doomed to a week of pointless sightseeing, and minimal action.

'We better follow her,' Rogue said as the girl entered the museum. 'Gal's liable to blow the whole buildin' sky high!'

Catching up to the teen, the group spent the next few minutes handing in coats and bags, inspecting the floor plan and ducking out of the way of the more aggressive tourist groups.

As they wandered the halls, Remy and Bobby argued the merits of traditional art versus the eclectic collection of paintings and sculptures around them, and Rogue played devil's advocate for both sides. Not interested in the dorky stuff on display, Jubilee plodded on behind them, pondering the merits of "accidentally" bumping into one of the priceless works around her.

Soon the small group found themselves in the busiest part of the building. Unlike most of MOMA, which was cooled to near freezing, here the throng of bodies in the exhibition hall heated the room to a humid swampiness. In one corner, a lone, portly security guard made sure no one stepped too close to any of the priceless paintings.

Rogue visibly paled at the sight of the eager masses. While Jean and Hank had insisted that no trip to MOMA would be complete without seeing its highly prized collection of Jackson Pollock pieces, the southern belle wasn't sure it was worth it taking a plunge into the sweaty maelstrom. Glancing behind her, she spotted similar expressions of dismay on the faces of her companions.

'OK, we'll just nip in for a quick gander. We'll be out before y'all know it.'

Not wanting to disappoint the beauty, and potential conquest, Bobby shrugged his shoulders in agreement. The Cajun merely nodded. Behind them, Jubilee rolled her eyes behind her pink shades at the malleability of men; one smile from a pretty girl and they totally melted.

The group edged their way in the packed hall. The first few paintings on display paid homage to Pollock's early abstract expressionist period, and while Rogue thought they were interesting, she much preferred the soft flowing lines of Cadmus' sketches downstairs.

The next line of Pollock's works, Rogue was surprised to find, weren't paintings at all, but finely detailed black-and-white inked engravings which swirled with chaotic emotion.

Intrigued, Rogue had to crane her neck over some dawdling tourists to read the info plaque on the wall beside the most striking piece. What she read made her grimace: "Landscape with Steer", the plaque read, was notable for having been painted during one of Pollock's most notorious periods of alcohol abuse. Indeed, the text praised the artist's ability to work at a steady pace while still guzzling "gallons" of alcohol daily.

'Seems he had it bad for the drink,' a bitter Rogue whispered to the Cajun, who was trying to read the same text over her shoulder, before she slinked away. Her own history, with her father's alcoholism, had left Rogue with little love or forgiveness for angry, drunk men.

Sensing the tang of disappointment and anger rolling off her, Remy immediately turned to follow.

'Da man was le bâtard, non? Maybe we find somethin' else upstairs.'

While most of her was inclined to follow the Cajun's advice, Rogue didn't want to face the sophisticated Jean and Hank without having seen Pollock's famous "drip" paintings at least once.

'I'll take Kirby over this pretentious shit any day,' Bobby proclaimed as the four X-Men came to stand before "One: Number 31", arguably Pollock's most famous drip painting. The utterance garnered the mutant shocked gasps from the museum patrons surrounding them.

'You might just be right, sugah,' sighed Rogue as she squinted up at the mess of paint and canvas. 'Ya'll ready to go? The Professor recommended seein' the Goldblatt photographs on the next floor.'

As the three adults turned to leave the stuffy confines of the hall, Remy noticed Jubilee didn't move to join them. For the first time that day her ever-present shades where perched on top of her head and her blue eyes were staring intently at one of the smaller Pollock creations, a dense mesh of intersecting swirls of vibrant colours entitled "White Light".

'Petite,' said Gambit as he tapped the mesmerised girl on the shoulder, 'we goin'.'

Distracted, the teen only glanced up at him for a second before refocusing her attention to the painting.

Not sure if she'd fully heard him, he tried again. 'I said...'

'Yeah, yeah… whatever,' Jubilee interrupted, dismissing the thief with a slight wave. 'I'll catch you guys later.'

For a moment Remy considered forcing her to come with them, but thought better of it. If the unhappy child had found something she liked, maybe it would put an end to her brooding.

And maybe if he could give Drake the slip, he could even snag some alone time with Rogue. Remy could but grin at the dozens of possible Iceman distraction tactics that bubbled up.

'Dat fine, but you meet us at the entrance at one,' he informed the girl.

She failed to respond.

'Petite?' There was a note of warning in his voice.

'I heard you! Geez, entrance one! I've got it.'

Next few hours were filled with much of the same. Between critiquing the various works on display, elbowing grumpy tourists, and a trip to the museum's gift shop, the rest of the morning passed quickly.

Meanwhile, the Cajun had to admit that his teammate was much craftier than his boyish looks let on. There was just no way to shake the boy; he followed Rogue like a heat-seeking missile, and whenever Remy thought he'd finally managed to get rid of him, one turn seconds later and Bobby was right back next to the Mississippi belle.

As for Bobby, he decided that even Scott Summers would have been impressed by the general level of dullness they'd managed to maintain all morning. The only excitement came by way of some dodgy New York wiring, when the lighting in the building flickered erratically for a few seconds before returning to normal. Smiling apologetically, a museum guide assured the gathered visitors that power shorts were common in the area and to continue enjoying their day.

When one o'clock rolled by, the X-Men were more than ready to find the nearest exit, grab some lunch and rest their aching feet. Exiting the glass building, they saw Jean, Hank and Bishop were already waiting on them. The redhead smiled as she tapped her watch, mimicking her rigorously punctual other half.

'Ah know, we're late!' the Southerner apologised as they joined the group.

'I was kidding! We just got here ourselves,' said Jean, tucking a errant strand of hair back into her perfect chignon.

Unlike the others, the telepath would have little time to relax during the week. Rather, her and Hank would be stationed at the Professor's side through most of the conference. Rogue suspected Charles had an ulterior motive for wanting the stunning former model at his side. No red-blooded senator would be able to form a coherent thought while in the same room as Jean Grey. The woman radiated poise, charm and sex appeal.

'Professor and Scott aren't coming?' Bobby remarked, noting the two hadn't accompanied the others. Iceman hoped it didn't mean lunch would be delayed; he'd been looking forward to the lavish spread Warren was treating them to at Worthington Enterprises.

'Regretfully, no,' Hank informed his friend. 'The Algerian Ambassador insisted he had something rather urgent he needed to discuss with Charles.'

Jean nodded in agreement. 'Yes, the man practically ambushed us on the way out of the assembly. Scott decided to tag along to keep an eye on things.'

'He expectin' trouble?' asked Remy, his red mutant eyes narrowing behind his dark-tinted glasses.

'No, I did a surface scan on Monsieur St Croix. He seemed harmless enough - just agitated about something. The Professor and Scott will join us later.'

'Talking about lunch, and can we get going?' said Bobby. 'I'm starving.'

'Starving, really, Bobby?' Jean smirked. 'Then that wasn't you lining up for fourths at breakfast this morning? In all the years I've known you, I can't remember a time that you weren't on the edge of wasting away.'

The Long Island native didn't even blush. 'Hey, you know, I'm a growing...' – and he paused to silently mouth the next word, one he'd never say out loud in public – '...mutant.'

As the group was about to leave, the stoic time traveler piped up for the first time.

'Where's Jubilation?'

There was a collective groan as Rogue, Remy and Bobby mentally kicked themselves.

'Gal was spos'ta meet us here,' Rogue told the others as her eyes darted around them, hoping she'd simply missed the tiny figure in the bustling crowd.

'She's probably still inside,' Bobby reassured the other mutants, silently praying that the firecracker hadn't decided to take off while they'd been distracted. The girl had a vicious calculating steak; if she'd given them the slip the Professor would flip his shiny bald lid! Charles was particularly fond of the abrasive mallrat; Bobby couldn't fathom why.

'Jean, ya think you could...?' Rogue didn't bother finishing her question as she guessed from the distant look in the telepath's green eyes that she was already scanning the area for any sign of the teen.

Jean's consciousness floated among throngs of people clustered around the entrance as she searched for the essence of a familiar mind, and found none. Either Jubilee wasn't among them or her strong mental shields were all the way up.

Expanding her scan of the area and still not sensing the girl, Jean let her mind drift out further and through the the glass door of the building. Once inside, her senses was instantly overwhelmed.

On the fourth floor of the museum, the pyrokinetic one's consciousness pulsed so brightly that Jean feared it would blind her. For the first time ever, Jubilee's shields were completely down, and her young mind was laid exposed.

Exercising years of practiced restraint, Jean resisted the overpowering hunger to dive into and explore the girl's mind. Downed shields or no, it was an ethical line she wouldn't allow herself to cross.

Hank noticed Jean was stunned by what her mind was seeing, and stepped close to steady her, letting her lean against his solid frame.

'Jeannie?' The doctor worriedly enquired.

'I'm fine, I just scanned one too many minds today,' she tried to assure him with a shaky smile.

'Maybe you should retire to the Hilton for a short repose. I could prescribe...'

'Hank...' – her voice was stern – '...I said I'm fine. Don't coddle me.'

'As you wish,' the doctor relented, despite himself. 'Were you able to ascertain the whereabouts of our young comrade?'

'Jubes is still inside. She's on the fourth floor, Pollock collection.'

'Jackson Pollock?' Bishop asked.

Jean was surprised that Bishop, a man with little taste for pop culture, had heard of the painter. 'Yes, I'm pretty sure that's where she been hiding.'

Rogue shook her head in disbelief. 'But that's where we left her two hours ago!'

'Trust me, she's still there. Maybe she saw something she liked.'

'Jubilation Lee is late for lunch because she found something she liked in a museum?' Bobby croaked. 'You know what, this I have to see! I'll get her.'

'And I'll come with you,' said Bishop as he followed the Iceman back into the building.

So close to lunch hour, Bobby was relieved to find the fourth floor had emptied out considerably, most of the earlier crowd prioritising the growling of their stomachs over the need for cultural enrichment.

Among the remaining stragglers, the neon coat of the sparkler was easy to spot. Sitting crossed-legged on a bench, the girl had hardly moved from the place where Bobby had last seen her, though her usually animated features drawn into a mask of complete stillness. She reminded Bobby of a porcelain doll: delicate, but lifeless.

Before the two X-Men could move to break their teammate from her trance, they were intercepted by the portly museum guard.

'Excuse me, sir, but weren't you and your friends in here earlier with that girl?' he asked, jerking his head in the general direction of small figure on the bench, his New York accent quivering with nervousness.

Bobby was amazed the man could remember their group among the hundreds that must have passed him by the hour.

'I'm good with faces,' said Jerry, as his name tag read, assuming the direction of the younger man's thoughts from his puzzled expression.

The X-Man merely nodded, unsure where this was all heading. Behind him, he hoped the twitchy time-traveller had his hand far away from his beloved plasma gun.

Jerry continued: 'The darndest thing happened after you left here. You see she jus' stood there, starin'. After about a half hour I thought I'd ask her if she wanted to sit down, but the youngin' wasn't too happy with me interruptin' whatever she was up to. If you're gonna go over there, sir, I'd recommend not makin' any sudden movements.'

Taken aback, Bobby threw the strange guard another suspicious look before stepping around him and over to the mesmorised Jubliee.

Still, mindful of the guard's cryptic warning, he kept his distance, loudly clearing his throat in an attempt to grab the girl's attention.

No response. She remained frozen to the spot.

The next move was Bishop's. He maneuvered around Bobby and crouched his hulking frame before her.

'Jubilation?'

Bobby noticed the habitual steely voice of the larger man softened somewhat when he addressed the teenager. But again, Jubilee refused to respond. So Bishop risked laying a gentle hand on her arm.

The response was immediate. Every light in their room and beyond flickered erratically, and from one corner there came a loud pop as a fluorescent light tube gave out from the sudden power surge.

That was quickly followed by frightened yelp in a foreign accent from the matriarch of the family that had been standing beneath the light. Jerry rushed over to help calm the shocked woman, only to be rather rudely shooed away by her blond haired son. As he walked away Jerry noticed the hands that did the shooing were covered in a pair of thick woolen gloves.

A boy wearing winter gloves in the middle of a summer heatwave? A strange, blue-eyed girl that makes the lighting go haywire? What was today's youth coming too?

Back at the bench, a weak 'Ouchy' was all Jubilee could muster as she drifted back into reality. Bishop and Bobby both grabbed an arm slender arm and half carried, half dragged the girl out of the museum.

Bobby was furious with himself, Rogue and Remy. Earlier they had dismissed the flickering lighting, putting it down to tardy maintenance, but they should've recognised the tell-tale signs of electromagnetic interference.

For a young mutant in training, Jubilee had basic control of her dangerous plasmic discharges, maybe 85 percent of the time. But whenever she got angry or lost focus, the electroplasmic energy field that allowed her to maintain the integrity of her plasma globules would lash out, causing the mansion's conventional wiring to fritz. Many a toaster, television and VCR had met their end that way.

As the trio exited the museum, Jean didn't have to ask if something was wrong. The answer was plastered all over their unhappy faces. Bobby's was a deep red, Bishop's frown was lower than usual, and the firecracker between them looked mostly out of it.

'What happened?' Jean whispered urgently, only too aware of the many non-mutant ears around them.

Stunned by the girl's sallow complexion, Remy reached out a hand as Bobby's unceremoniously dumped her in the centre of the group.

'Petite?'

When Jubilee didn't answer, Remy shot the young man a hard look.

'Sparky here nearly just fried a few million in priceless art! Lucky for us, she only managed to blow a lighting fixture and scare the crap out of some old German lady.'

The others looked down at the girl in disbelief. The first X-Commandment the Professor drilled into all his students was simple: Never use your abilities in public. One never knew who might be watching.

Rogue was first to piece the events of the morning together. 'Wait a minute, the lights… that was you?'

She took the girl's avoiding glance as a yes.

'Why did'n ya come find us? What if someone saw ya?'

'Someone did see her,' Bishop admitted, 'there's a guard on duty that must suspect something.'

Horrified by the implications, Hank turned to Jean. 'Maybe you should...'

'I'm on it.' The telepath's emerald eyes glazed once more as she retraced her earlier physic footsteps. She was back in less then 30 seconds. 'The guards fine. He has some kind of minor facial eidetic mutant ability. He's not going to say anything.'

The proverbial bullet had been dodged, and there was an audible sigh of relief from everyone in the group. Everyone except Jubliee.

Jean put an arm around that pair of sagging shoulders in that yellow trenchcoat and gave them a firm squeeze. What good would a lecture a do? It was clear from Jubilee's expression that she already felt bad enough.

'Don't worry about it, we all lose control sometimes.'

A warning flicker flashed in the firecracker's eyes, as if daring the other adults to contradict the telepath. No one said a word.

'Accidents happen, Jubilee,' added Jean warmly. 'Now let's get something to eat.'

Next Time: What's the connection between Pollock's drip paintings and Jubilee's powers? Why did the firecracker drop her remarkable shields? Answers in part two of White Lights...Coming Soon!

But first, Beast and the good doctor meet...