Housekeeping: This chapter takes place right after Chapter 10: Meeting of Minds...

Reader: 'Hold it! Hey, wait, wasn't the blurb for this chapter "Guess who's coming to dinner..."? Why are we still at Hank's party?

Beezzi: *Angelic Smile* Well you know...best laid plans of mice and fan fiction writers...

Reader: *Eye Roll*

OK...so...the original idea for Jubes and David's first meeting was way more condensed and incredibly stupid. Poor ol' David was nothing more than a plot device and not a breathing person.

So I chucked out the old David Kelly and gave the new one some hopes, dreams and...oh...a personality.

Trust me, it's a massive improvement. And don't worry – David will come to dinner at some point.

As always I'd like to thank my lovely reviewers - Verthril and MaddySan5926. - you guys rock! :o)

Have Fun!

Chapter Twelve: And Sorry Seems…

'My God, David, are you alright?' asked Manfred Garu, his puffy features turning an uncomfortable dark shade of red as he made quite the show of trying to dry off the young man. The assembled guests who had witnessed the girl colliding with him instantly drew closer and quieter, just in case something gossip worthy happened.

'I'm fine, Manfred, really,' David assured him, as he tried to avoid the napkin the professor was waving dangerously close to his groin, 'It was an accident.'

'Miss Lee, you really should be more careful,' said Garu as he turned his head to admonish the fresher at his side. She was mortified, hoping to look repentant while attempting to wipe the sticky alcohol from tiny hands of the boy in her arms. The infant ignored her as he tried to pop a sweet fist into his mouth.

'Shogo… No... Don't put that in your mouth.'

Garu, far more concerned with his own and the universities reputation, was unmoved by her dilemma. 'What if David was hurt?' he muttered in an angry whisper. 'You should apologise... '

'It's OK, Manfred,' David interrupted, 'and in any case it's me who should be apologising to the lady. After all, I did stumbled into her.'

Unusual blue eyes shot up to meet his brown in confusion.

'But I...'

'...had the misfortune of having me bungle into you. I'll of course pay for your dry cleaning.'

Dumbstruck, the small woman glanced down at her simple black sheath of a dress, as if trying to understand why anyone would pay to dry clean something from the Gap.

'Thanks,' she blurted, 'but I'll just shove it in the wash.'

Jubliee hoped she looked appropriately grateful; he had just saved her rear from Dr Garu's firing squad.

With the "incident" seemingly handled without any major fallout, and as the curious bodies around the room went back to their glasses of bubbly and hors d'oeuvres, David gave the girl an encouraging nod and smile before leading the still floundering Garu away. And as the young man waxed on about the possibilities of future monetary contributions, the head of the physics department forgot about the spillage and his eyes glazed over with dreams of fancy department dinners, new computers and maybe a foosball table for the staff room.

David, however, never let the girl stray far from his sight, keeping a subtle tab on her as she moved around the room. And he was doubly intrigued when the guest of honour approached her and took the boy from her arms so she could clean his sticky face and hands with a wet wipe.

Henry McCoy must have uttered something encouraging, because the girl's drooping shoulders straightened and the doctor was rewarded with the slight smirk which lit up the woman's delicate Asian features from within. She and McCoy obviously had some kind of relationship, and David felt an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Distracted, he nearly missed a question from Garu as he traced the outline of her surprisingly toned arms, watching her lift the boy from the taller doctor's hold.

As she turned and headed for the refreshment table, David had just enough wherewithal to deflect a funding related hint, before his eyes were drawn again to the understated curves of her retreating figure.

She asked something of the blond in charge of refreshments, who rolled her eyes before waving her away, and David's flirtation with voyeurism ended as the object of his interest scurried out a side door.

The vampire was having a bang-up evening.

After the "incident" she'd left to hall in search of something better than dried-out wet wipes to soak up the champagne that still clung to her and Shogo. Unfortunately, it seemed the university facilities had run out of disposable hand towels earlier in the festivities.

That had left her and the boy, seated in his stroller, in the walled courtyard garden outside Pupin Hall's toilets with only a bottle of water and some cheap toilet tissue: paper so recycled that it disintegrated on contact with even a drop of water and left little bits of white fluff sticking to her black dress and her son's fluffy Chewy onesie.

This is why she chose not to drink. No matter how careful you were, too often did the evening end with you stinking of cheap booze in a back alley, precariously balancing on dangerously high heels, kneeling in you-know-what. At least this time Jono wasn't holding her hair back while he bitched about responsible drinking.

Ah yes, the New Warriors' golden years.

Balling up the last bit of useless paper and chucking it in the nearby bin, Jubilee softly sniffed the air around her son and was overwhelmed by the acidic tinge of the fermented grapes. There was no way around it: the poor kid still smelled like he'd gone snorkeling in a barrel of California's finest chablis. What would Miss Pinkerton from social services have to say about this?

'I don't know how your granpa Wolvie does this,' she said. A disgusted Shogo wrinkled his button nose and belched an affirmative 'buh'.

Behind the pair, the door to the men's room opened and someone stepped into the courtyard. Jubilee, far more concerned with the state of her son, didn't spare a glance behind her. It wasn't like she couldn't take any of the tipsy, spongy suits still hanging around.

The person milled around the door for a second and then, much to the young mother's annoyance, she heard his footsteps headed her way.

'Look, I'm not in the mood,' Jubilee warned the approaching figure, not bothering to face him. Just what I need right now, she thought, an overly friendly Daddy Warbucks looking for a quickie.

'Why don't you save whatever lame pickup line you've trademarked for one of the co-eds inside. I'm not interested.'

Her tone was harsher than she intended, but the sharp aroma in the air was starting to overwhelm her undead senses.

There was a amused masculine snort and Jubilee rolled her eyes. She knew that tone. Great, she thought, this one thinks his Casa-freakin'-nova...

'I said...'

'And I heard you.'

The man's voice was deep, warm and held none of the superior snark that marked so many of the guests.

'First you dump a gallon of swill on me and then you call me lame. What exactly did I do to piss you off again?'

Damn… damnity damn damn. Jubilee wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall – this night was just turning out "super".

'Hi,' David said encouragingly as the acidic pixie turned slowly and glanced upwards. At seeing her sheepish expression, he gave the the small woman his best inherited "vote for me" smile.

'Uhm...hi...' Jubilee mumbled, while trying to stand with as much grace as her short dress and heels would allow her.

I bet 'Ro and Frosty never had these problems.

The man gallantly offered his hand to steady her. When she was sufficiently righted, he held on to it a moment longer then necessary before letting go and stepping away. He settled on the low brick wall that surrounded the courtyard, and Jubilee got her first real opportunity to study the catalyst that had flipped her pleasant evening on its head.

Oddly enough, the first thing that struck her was not his perfectly square jaw, the tanned skin or his general level of chiselediness, but rather that he seemed oddly familiar. Had she seen him before? In GQ, maybe? Parading around in a skimpy pair of Calvins?

In spite of his youthful appearance - his jacket carelessly slung across his arm, his tie hanging loosely to reveal an unbuttoned collar, the slightly smug glint in his eyes – the stranger's fashionable messy hair was already sprouting silvering threads around his temples. Was it premature aging that had cut his modeling career short?

David didn't say anything as the silence grew between them, too intent on watching the dusky winter light skim across her skin. Earlier, in the hall, she'd seemed alien to the environment around her, standing out against the grey canvas of party guests - an outsider trying to blend in. But here, in the corner of the courtyard, with shadows and moonlight appearing to cling to her pale skin, pooling in those remarkable cerulean eyes, she fit.

'SCHHHLUUUUUP!'

The spell was broken by the slurping sounds the infant made as he noisily sucked the last drops of juice from his bottle. Then by the futile movements of the mother's hands as she returned to wiping the tiny white fibres from her dress.

'Here, try this,' David offered, pulling a folded handkerchief from his suit pocket. 'That stuff sticks like tar on a warm day, I couldn't get it off, either. Someone needs to educate Manfred on the quality of what he's serving or Columbia's Science Department needs to provide some sort of industrial solvent to rinse it off with.'

Hesitantly, she took the offered material, wetted it and dutifully returned to the boy's side. Shogo gurgled unhappily after a few wipes and let out a grumpy whine, having had enough pampering for one evening. Giving up, the girl did her best to try and de-lint her own frock.

'Babysitting your younger brother?' David asked, risking a stab in the dark; the nymph seemed awfully young, after all.

'Brother?'

The question caught her off guard. To Jubilee, a single child, the brother concept was foreign and for a moment the only picture her mind could conjure was that of Iceman, dressed in a diaper, sucklling on adult-size pacifier. Understanding finally dawned when she followed the man's gaze,

'Oh, no… This sticky little Wookiee is my son.'

Jubilee didn't mind having to correct the man. He wasn't the first to question her relation to the kid: her frozen teenage appearance, gymnast height and lack of family resemblance had led a few curious strangers to figuring Shogo for an adopted sibling.

David seemed to need some time to process this new information – and to recalculate her age – so the vampire chose to busy herself with trying to save her ruined dress with the handkerchief.

'Thanks,' she said after a minute, handing back the slip of monogrammed material. The initials caught her eye for a moment.

Mmm… DRK….

'Please, keep it, I've loads.'

'Sorry for what I said before...' – not meeting his eye, she stuffed the soiled hanky into a hidden pocket – 'and for bumping into you earlier.'

'As I said inside, it was nothing. Anyway, it's my fault for not throwing that cocktail of evil into the first pot plant I saw.'

There was a slightest upwards twitch from the corners of her shapely mouth. 'But still, I really should be paying for your dry cleaning.'

David off-handedly skimmed his 2014 custom tailored Logsdail of London suit. 'What, This old thing? Been in the back of my closet for years.'

This time she actually smiled. 'Why is it that everytime I try to apologise, you find a way to stop me?'

'Because there is nothing to apologise for. It was an accident. Everyone has bad days.'

From the pure confidence he exuded, Jubes doubted this golden boy had ever experienced an awkward moment since his expulsion from the womb.

'I feel responsible, though. You did get stuck with Garu' – a fate, Dr Holgersson had informed her, far worse than death.

'I can handle Manfred. You just need to know how many zeros to add to the department petty cash. But...' – and David paused, a devilish grin showing of perfect teeth – 'if you really want to make it up to me, how about dinner?'

'That's not a good idea,' she said, searching in vain for an excuse. 'I'm really busy and… umm… it's so hard to find a Wookiee babysitter this time of year.'

Jubilee knew the excuse was flimsy, but she hoped the obvious fakeness would dissuade him. The prospect of her vampire/single mother self on the dating scene was one that Logan had flatly refused to entertain.

In any case, this boy wonder didn't buy it. 'OK, dinner's out – what about a cup of coffee?'

'Coffee?'

'Yes, java, qahioa, café...' – there was a playful lilt to his tone – '...as in the rich, dark, substance brewed from the roasted beans of the coffea bush, most likely first cultivated in the 13th century, brought to America in the 16th century by Dutch traders, and today sipped in over-hyped italian bars by yuppie New Yorkers who don't know the first thing about percolation.'

He was rewarded with a deadpan glare. 'Thanks for the dissertation, professor.'

'And my economics tutor said my thesis on "The Impact of Historical Coffee Trade on Modern Markets" would never come in handy.'

'It hasn't. I happen to know what coffee is.'

'Brilliant, then I'll meet you in the Starbucks across campus for a cup on say...Monday?'

'I don't have class on a Monday.'

'Tuesday?'

'I'm washing my hair.'

'Hmm… Wednesday?'

'Balancing the ol' cheque book.'

'Thursday, maybe?'

'No luck, I'm getting the Beetle's tires rotated.'

'Your schedule just overflowing with menial tasks, isn't it?'

'Yeah, sorry, can't get a spare moment to myself.'

'Which is exactly why you should put your feet up, blow off whatever frivolous chore you have planned for Friday and come have coffee with me instead.'

'You're very persistent.'

'I heard it pays off.'

David laughed, pulling himself from his spot on the wall and moving closer to the evasive nymph - no way he was letting her slip away without getting her number.

'Look, believe it or not, but I don't usually ask women out on dates outside university bathrooms. I find it sends the wrong message.'

She smirked despite herself. 'And what message would you like to send?'

'That I'm a nice guy, who hates drinking overpriced, stale coffee on my own.'

'So I'd only be going along to save you from boredom?'

'Oh no, I've found that stimulating conversation and the right companionship can improve even the the worst cup of joe.'

David took a step closer to the girl.

'You invite a lot of "companions" to Starbucks?'

He didn't miss a beat: 'Only the beautiful ones who pore cheap champagne down my pants.'

'You think you're pretty slick, don't ya?.'

She inched closer.

'Maybe. How am I doing?'

'C-minus.'

At her answer he looked like a kicked puppy and she took pity on the man,

'OK… C-plus, for effort.'

'C-plus? That's rough. I've always thought my material was at least B-plus-worthy. It seems I'll have to start fresh - maybe hire a Hollywood writer or two.'

Close as he was now, Jubilee could feel the warmth he radiated, smell the fading musk of his aftershave and hear the rush of blood through his veins. He breached the small space to brush an errant wisp of hair from her cheek and the vampire surprised herself by not flinching.

'Should I hire a stylist?' he asked. 'Update my look to better appeal to jaded single moms?'

'Mmm… I hear they're a very difficult demographic to break into.'

There was a quiver in her tone and it sent a thrilling tingle down David's spine.

'Well, I believe that with just the right approach...' – his fingers slowly stroke their way down her cold cheek, and settle under her small defiant chin, tilting it upward – '...I'll find them very malleable.'

He lips moved down to brush hers.

In the back of Jubilee's mind, an angry little Canadian voice growled that this was a bad idea. But the vampire craved the hint of passion in this man's brown eyes and she leaned into him.

BANG!

The clatter of a plastic bottle hitting pavement and a heart-wrenching "Buhhh!" forced the two adults to jump apart.

Jubliee darted over to her crying son, hiding a deep scarlet blush from the man behind her as she fiddled around in Shogo's baby bag for his pacifier.

'Mommy's an idiot,' she whispered to the now merely sniffling boy before giving him a peck on the head.

And that was the problem with being a vampire, Raizo had warned her: you get distracted by shiny new things for a few minutes and then all that hard-fought-for control slips.

She heard some uncomfortable shuffling behind her, and then a rough clearing of the throat.

'That was thoughtless of me….' – for a man that appeared so steady minutes before, his words now tumbled out in a jumble – '...I... don't know what came over me… You have to believe me… I don't usually come on that strong...'

'It wasn't your fault, we both got carried away. Must be the champagne,' Jubilee covered, knowing the alcohol would've had little effect on her vampire metabolism.

Scrapping the shreds of her courage together, she stood up straight and faced him. At least he was as uncomfortable as she was now, his eyes flicking between her face and the ground.

'I meant what I said. Seriously, I'm not some weirdo who frisks women in dark corners. I'd just like to sit down sometime and have a conversation. Whenever you're free. No pressure. Look I'll give you my card.'

He searched for his wallet and pulled out a gold-trimmed business card.

Taking a deep breath, she moved closer to take it, desperately avoiding the inviting rapid beats of his pulse and the gushing blood pumping through his heart.

She snatched the card in a flash and much to David's dismay, she didn't even so much as peek at it before shoving into the same pocket his handkerchief had disappeared into earlier.

'It's David, by the way,' he said. 'David Kelly.'

The woman seemed to freeze as she processed the information, then took a deliberate step backwards, in a protective blocking motion in front of her son.

'Kelly? As in Robert Kelly?' she croaked.

'Yes...' – the man answered, confused; rarely had his illustrious surname elicited such a reaction from a potential date; usually girls lapped it up – 'Bob Kelly was my uncle.'

'Your uncle was Robert Kelly? Senator Kelly who ran for President?'

Again Jubilee wished the earth would open. No wonder he'd looked familiar: David Kelly's, resemblance to his uncle was unmistakable, down to his greying temples and all. Yip, Storm and Emma definately had never nearly kissed the nephew of a long-dead X-Men frenemy. They were smart enough to asked for names first.

'Yeah, he ran for President,' David confirmed, aware that there was something he'd missed. What did uncle Bob have to do with anything? Before he could get a chance to solve for x, Jubilee was pushing Shogo's stroller away.

'I have to go,' she said hurriedly, without as much as a glance .

Not content to let her walk out of his life without an explanation, David blocked the exit from the courtyard.

'Look, I know people don't like politicians right now, but seriously, you can't hold that against me. Just get to know me.'

'I can't,' she said, averting his eyes, 'you're a Kelly.'

'I'm a Kelly, so what?'

She tried to maneuver around him, but David didn't budge, instead edging closer to the stroller. He backed off when he heard a low growl escape the woman's throat. What was with this sudden change? What did she have against Uncle Bob?

Wait… back in the hall, there was her easy way with McCoy, David recalled, remembering enough of his uncle's political life to know why anyone who was on a first-name basis with Dr Henry McCoy might have a problem with the Kelly name.

'You were one of Xavier's mu...' – David stopped, catching himself – '...students.'

For a moment it seemed as if she would make an instant dash for the exit, but she paused. 'Yes, I was.'

As much as Jubilee hated it, it felt wrong storming off without at least giving him a reason.

'I'm sorry for your loss, I heard what that madman did to him.'

Jubilee didn't know what to make of David's words - they sounded sincere. But a Kelly showing sympathy for the death of Charles Xavier at the hands of Cyclops? What an upside-down world they were living in.

The irony, though, was lost on David Kelly, who was just relieved at this glimmer of understanding.

'Look, I know my uncle wasn't always the greatest friend to mutants, but he died a different man.'

'It doesn't matter. The things he did during Zero Tolerance...'

'Hold on, my uncle Bob opposed that lunatic Bastion.'

'In the end. But the hatred he spread is what got Bastion started.'

'Well, I'm not my uncle! I'm trying to make things right. Why do you think I'm here tonight? You see any other family members of ex-FoH leaders supporting prominent mutants scientists?!'

He hadn't meant to yell at her, but after years of living in the shadow of ideology he'd never agreed with, David hated the insinuation that he was an anti-mutant bigot.

Still, hope rose in David when the girl didn't storm away. She actually seemed to be thinking his words overs. Her death grip on the stroller's handles eased and it seemed she was going to say something.

But then she shook her head and pushed away, back towards the hall. This time David didn't attempt to block her way.

Before she reached the lit entrance, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.

And David thought he heard a whispered 'I'm sorry' before she disappeared into the light.

Next Time: Jubes deals with the aftermath - Guest Starring: Psylocke and Kitty Pryde.