Story Housekeeping: Hey everybody – another chapter! Whoop!

Just a quick note - I've always thought it was a terrible policy to tell the evil guys where your "evil stopping" super hero base is – so in my canon, the general public knows that school teaches mutants, but not that it's the X-Men's base of operations.

General HouseKeeping: I'd like to thank Verthril for all the encouragement and general nice person-e-ness. And my uber-mega-super secret spy network informs me that XaoOfTheMists, Fionn the Otaku, DCMatriXHunter and GoldenGyrfalcon are awesome individuals too for faving and following. ;o)

Also a special shout-out to my fellow posters on the Jubilee CBR Appreciation Thread – showing loads of love and support for everyone's favourite firecracker. :)

Now what are you guys still doing up here? There's reading to get on with!

Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Dualling Roses

'Oooooooh...!'

The others claimed they couldn't hear it, but the ninja's attuned hearing zeroed in on the buzzing, much to her annoyance; the mechanical whirring of the Danger Room was barely audible above the muffled rounds of appreciative shouts that echoed through the basement corridors.

Normally she prefered the quiet solitude of her room during teaching hours, avoiding the rattle of children who littered the halls. It wasn't that she didn't like the next generation of mutants that called the school home, she just never knew how to relate to them. Her own upbringing of starched nannies and strict boarding schools had not encouraged any nurturing instinct.

Bang!

The meeker students avoided her, clumsily ducking out of sight when she walked past. Maybe they'd heard whispers of the Hand, or the Crimson Dawn, or of her short time as part of the defunct X-Force strike team - any of those would give an impressionable child nightmares.

At night, alone in her room, the shadows closing in around her, Elizabeth Braddock often wondered who was more frightened of who.

'Ooo...aww!'

The walls around the telepath vibrated with the impact, and closer now, she could discern the hushed sound of a collective wince.

Feeling a drip of water on her hand, she distractedly wiped it on her uniform. While this newest number wasn't as traffic stopping as her purple leotard, it was far more practical - and less breezy.

Shifting her grip higher up the delicate delivery she was carrying, the realisation hit that this is what was meant by the phrase ' a good deed never goes unpunished'. Had she not volunteered to play delivery girl, Betsy could've been through half of her kata routine already. But she'd assumed wrongly that the lucky X-Woman would be cloistered in the school's library. Unfortunately, the recipient had volunteered to give the younger trainees a small demo in hand-to-hand combat.

'Thwack!'

Betsy wasn't entirely surprised to find the Danger Room's red "Simulation Active" sign lit up right above the heavy door, with the safety locks engaged. From the sounds rolling down the hall, the demo had obviously escalated at some point. The roster showed the session had been scheduled to end twenty minutes ago; the students weren't just receiving an education, but also a show.

Careful not to spill any water on the steep winding staircase - Shi'ar alloy was annoyingly slippery even when not wet - the ninja climbed the steps that led to the control booth and viewing era.

Another round of "Oooh's" filled the air as she entered the packed room. Half the junior school body were pressed up against the reinforced blast-shielded glass. With some effort she managed to inch her way through the anxious masses only to find Bobby Drake lazily lounging in a chair, with his feet up on the central console, beside him Lockheed asleep on the intensity setting buttons, and the school's youngest resident perched on his uncle Bob's shoulders.

Shogo seemed to be keenly searching for something - dark brown eyes intently studying the mess of holograms before him, his gaze darting from one darken corner to the other - and Betsy couldn't help but feel there was something alien about how aware the young infant was of the world and the people around him.

An after-affect of Arkea's possession, maybe?

The thought made the telepath's skin crawl, and she tried to take comfort in Hank's repeated assurances that every test had indicated Jubilee's son was a completely normal infant.

Bobby nodded a slight greeting, ignored the flowers in Betsy's hand, and went back to snoozing.

There was an excited yelp from a pink junior in a football jersey down the front of the huddle, and then a sudden flash of yellow which caught Psylocke's eye, even making Shogo crane his short neck to see. To the students' audible disappointment, the sighting vanished in a wisp of mist nearly as fast as it appeared and was mostly obscured by the shifting panels inside the dark room.

Intrigued, Betsy leaned over and tapped a basic command enquiry into the Shi'ar console. The current program was listed as "Basic: Level 1" - designed by Hank to test the reflexes of the younger teleporters, dematerialisers and phasers with a few panels of different sizes and densities disappearing and reappearing at regular intervals. But she couldn't help but notice that someone had ramped up the difficulty. Gone was the steady pattern and safety parameters - instead the panels moved around the Danger Room in an erratic swirl. Anyone would be lucky not to be decapitated, let alone hit.

'Hey. don't look at me,' said Bobby, sensing the telepath's searing gaze of disapproval. 'They forced me to change it.'

'Wolverine will not like this.'

'No one's pinning this on me...'

'If either of them are hurt...'

'Look, ask my pal Shogo here - they had my back to the wall!'

'That may be true, but who do you think Wolverine will blame if either of them is even lightly scratched?'

As Besty's words sunk in, the man visibly paled, swallowing hard. Logan was legendarily over-protective. God, even the kids were shooting him sympathetic looks. Nothing in life was as bad as getting pitied by a group who thought Frozen was hardcore. Did he still have enough time to buy a cheap ticket on the next express bus to Mexico? Maybe it was time to follow his dream of becoming a gordita street vendor…

Betsy suppressed a smug smirk and returned her attention to the window just in time to see Kitty sneak her way through the maze of shifting holo plates. In her hands gleamed the tempered steel blade of the new katana Logan had custom forged for her.

'Wasn't this supposed to be a hand-to-hand demo?' Betsy asked.

Bobby didn't answer, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

Beneath them, in the Danger Room, Kitty shifted her weight to her toes, stepping effortlessly through a thick oncoming panel, blade at the ready. For a moment she paused her search, trying to hear some sound above the din of the room.

Cautiously, Kitty crept forward, but before she could step through another panel, a pair of clawed talons popped into being, heading straight for her throat. Just in time, she rolled out of the way, narrowly missing the slashing onslaught.

Spinning around, Kitty hefted the blade to strike at her foe only to find the space empty once more.

It was a simple trick. Something the undead girl had developed during her time with the Forgiven, and marked a notable change. Before she would've kept her distance, hurling insults and plasmoids with equal ferocity. This new style hinted at predator caged inside her: stalking, striking and then slipping away.

Logan didn't like it, arguing the girl's dependence on this strategy was flawed, as her encounter with the Jersey Stalker had shown - low on blood she was a sitting duck. His ardent opposition to the new tactic had confused the more strategic minded of the X-Men, but Besty surmised that the Wolverine, in some small way, was trying to cling to the last remnants of the loudmouth teenager who'd followed him around Asia.

Kitty jumped over a low hovering panel. 'So you want to play hide and seek Lee? You're not the only one who can hide, you know!' she called, clearly miffed that the vampire had gotten the jump on her, before fading into the shadows.

The minutes slowly ticked by as audience in the control booth waited for something to happen. Panels swirled, disappeared, reappeared and still nothing moved, and Betsy could've sworn she detected a yawn among the gaggle of children. Bobby was about to reach for the off button when the vampire suddenly blinked back into existence. She didn't have the ninja's patience for cat and mouse games.

'Here kitty, kitty, kitty,' the huntress hissed, teasingly raking her elongated talons across the smooth surface of a panelled wall. 'I have a saucer of milk for you...'

There was a snicker from an undefinable corner of the large space. 'Like I've never heard that one before. You need new material, Jubie.'

The undead girl stopped and cocked her head to the side, trying to locate where the ghostly voice had emanated from. The panel she was standing on started to dematerialised and with effortless grace she vaulted across to one of its smaller neighbours. This agile display earned her a round of cheers from the juveniles in the audience.

'You know what, Jubes?' – again the voice sounded faded and distant – 'That coat of yours might not be the best apparel to stealth in.'

'Oh you did not just insult the trench, sista!'

Rolling her crimson eyes, the vampire flicked up the collar of her bright yellow friend.

'Insult the accent, the hair and even moi's fun loving personality, but I know you did not just poke fun at my coat? This baby is so "tres chic".'

There was breathless, ghostly laughter from the darkness.

'Oh god…"tres chic"? Jubes, check the dictionary for definition of the word "chic".'

'Dictionary, Kitkat? One word, geek girl – Google.'

A thicker panel flew past the vampire, nearly knocking her over, and she was just able slide onto a lower. vertical one. She sat perching, hawk-like, talons curled around its edge.

'Yeah, you're right - online is more your style, mallrat. It's mostly pictures.'

Hawk-girl's reply was blowing a raspberry to the empty air. This time there was no teasing retort, no witty comeback… Just silence.

With their repartee seemingly ended, the vampire stood, stretched and readied herself for another leap. Midway through the air, she was hit from the side by a Kitty-sized missile. The force of the impact left both women tumbling in a frenzy of slashes to the floor meters below. Miraculously, they avoided colliding with any more panels on their way down, and both landed feet first first on the solid Danger Room floor.

There was another round of enthused hooting and hollering from the young plebeians in the gallery as the gladiators circled each other.

Kitty instinctively turned her body lengthways, giving the vampire very little to aim for, her katana ready to strike at even the slightest twitch.

The vampire was similarity tensed, her deadly claws fully extended - and her usually compact frame seemed to gain a few inches, leaving her cheeks paled and her figure hollowed.

As the pair made another slow circle around each other, Bobby sighed, deposited Shogo on the console before him and hit what Hank had taught everyone was the Shi'ar symbol for microphone.

'Uhm… not to interrupt your court-mandated girl bonding time or anything, but some of us have lives and more importantly lunch we'd like to get to before the turn of this century.'

The students, having hoped to delay their other classes, shot icy glares at the Iceman, which he ignored with practiced ease.

In the Danger Room below, the circling ceased as the holograms above vanished. The two fixedly stared at each other.

The vamp was the first to break. 'Hear that, Kitten?' – her voice was low and rasping – 'Your boyfriend's scared I'm gonna scratch that pretty little face of yours.'

It's was Kitty's turn to roll her eyes. 'Oh come off it Jubes, save the Drucella theatrics for the late night drive-in crowd.'

Crimson eyes aglow, the dead teenager twisted her head at an unnaturally sharp angle, growling.

Above them there was an retching sound among the gathered children and a few turned away from the window.

Kitty's response to this macabre display was a snort. 'Nope, still not impressed, and for your information' – she threateningly wiggled the long blade – 'Bobby knows I'm a big girl.'

'A big girl?' – somehow the vampire managed to achieve an unearthly mix of valley girl snark and a gravelly purr – 'Well you have put on a few pounds lately. Maybe it's time to stop letting Drake take you to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria and Fun Emporium for date night.'

In the control booth, Bobby made a frantic leap for the mic button.

'Hey, it was one time!' he sputtered over the intercom. 'Everywhere else was closed!'

There were snickers all round, the regal Brit seemed to be biting the inside of her cheeks and even the more lothario-minded of the pre-teens looked a tad bit mortified. Shogo went "Buh".

Bobby sat back in a huff, crossing his arms, and Betsy could've sworn she heard him grumbling something about "garlic bread" and "UV lamps" under his breath.

'Okay, Pryde, let's deal,' said the vampire to her opponent. 'Say I put away the claws and you put away your pointy stick...'

'...and we kill each other like civilised people?' Kitty completed the quote from her favourite film. She dropped her blade and the undead pixie retracted her elongated claws.

'Since Wolveroonie hates it when the Danger Room gets all bloody and covered in Kitten guts,' – there was a "as if" grunt from the kitten in question – 'lets keep it PG and maybe go till you scream uncle?'

'No misting or phasing?'

'Deal.'

The agreement struck, the women lunged – Kitty with the swift grace of a lean cat and the vampire with the aggressive power of a caged animal.

Kitty twisted in mid-air, hitting the other with a boot to the stomach. The undead girl stumbled, but still had enough balance to grab Kitty's feet and hurl her towards the nearest wall.

Even with all the added speed, the ninja still easily flipped herself off the smooth surface of the wall, but before she could catch her breath there was another fist flying towards her head. Kitty intercepted the punch by grabbing the smaller girl's wrist and slamming her into the wall. There was a distinct sound of cracking ribs.

The brunette smudged the vampire's face up against the wall. 'Uncle?'

'Screw you, princess,' she spat, ducking and twisting out of the hold, pushing Kitty off her and slipping down for a quick sweep of the legs - it was easily avoided with a quick flip.

Punches, kicks and swipes rained down from both sides, and each parried with practiced eased, trying to force the other into a corner. They were a blur of skill and natural talent.

High above, Shogo and the children were now sucked up against the glass like anxious little starfish.

Below, there were two distinct style on show.

Shadowcat was grace under pressure: pure tactical skill, punishing any missed blows. She'd side-step until there was a opening and then retaliate with deadly precision. Every movement counted. Kitty was a bushido prodigy and a credit to her master.

Her counterpart was the polar opposite. Every action unpredictable, every maneuver a feint. What looked liked to be knee to sternum became an elbow to the face. There was no one school of combat on show – through the girl flowed every X-Man she'd ever trained with. Contradictory styles melding together in a chaotic fashion that was all her own.

True to nature, the vamp disguised a right hook to kidneys, but Kitty was on to her and blocked the blow, using their closeness to land an uppercut which momentarily stunned the dead girl. Taking advantage of her narrow window, Kitty leaped onto the vamp's back, locking her legs around the other girl's arms and body as her forearms wrapped around that pale undead throat, then jerked backed violently – attempting to dislocate sensitive joints and vertebrae as she held on.

Not about to admit defeat so easily, the vampire tried to buck the phaser off, but tearing muscles protested. A different, gentler approach was needed.

Slowly. she snaked a hand out from under the her captor's thigh and up her straining body. With one valiant heave, she ignored the familiar pop of humerus and glenoid separating and curled her fingers around Kitty's neck, squeezing slightly.

Tension in the control booth reached critical mass. With the vampire's body stretched to its limits, she was unable to clamp down on the windpipe with any more power, and with that set of deadly fingers wrapped around her throat, Kitty too was trapped, unable to lean back into the stranglehold, and unable to inflict any more serious pain.

Stalemate.

Time ticked by...

And then, as if of one mind, both combatants relaxed their holds on one another.

'Truce?' one wondered.

'Truce,' the other conceded.

Jubilee let go of her friend's throat and Kitty hopped off her back. For a moment, both took a breather – easing overused muscles back into creaking sockets – before they limped out of the Danger Room.

Their entertainment over, the students watching high above slouched towards the exit – bemoaning the unfairness of a world in which teachers were responsible, sensible adults and refused to spill each other's blood for sport.

Bobby powered down the Danger Room, lifted a pouting Shogo into his arms and gave the sleeping purple dragon on the console a slight nudge. Defiant even in his drowsy state, Lockheed rolled over, moved a tiny wing to cover his head and snored on.

Shrugging, Bobby moved to the door – the dragon always seemed to find Kitty somehow – and waited for Betsy to join him before turning off the control booth lights.

The two X-Men found their teammates tending to battle scars in the small staff waiting area outside the washrooms. Wooden benches lined the wall, a small med area stood ready in the corner to treat minor injuries, storage closets held spare training uniforms and a glass door fridge offered cooled energy drinks, water and a recent addition - bottles filled with pints of O neg.

Sipping from one of those red bottles, Jubilee tried not to snicker too loudly at her companion's low groans. While she was technically "dead", at least she could heal most minor Danger Room aches and pains instantaneously with a few nourishing sips.

'I'm getting too old for this,' Kitty moaned from where she lay spread-out on a bench, two open bottles of Hank's homemade high-octane energy drink by her side. She only slightly raised her head to acknowledge her fellow X-Men as they entered.

'Old?' Her boyfriend enquired. 'You don't look a day over 55.'

'Watch it Drake, I know where you sleep.'

There was an muffled "eep" from the Iceman and he handed Shogo over to his mother before dutifully shuffling over to massage his girlfriend's sore shoulders.

Betsy and Jubilee, meanwhile, shared small knowing smiles, happy that the unlikely pair were getting along. Having both lost in love before, it was nice to see something positive blossom between the introverted brunette and the gregarious Long Islander.

Chucking her empty bottle into the biohazard bin, Jubes noticed the bouquet of roses the Asian telepath was awkwardly cradling in her arms. The arrangement was uber-swanky: two dozen or so long-stemmed red roses wrapped in golden gauze-like material and tied with a delicate red lace ribbon. Those were proper posh, as Jono would say.

'What's with the roses, Betts? Warren sniffing around for some nooky?' she teased, shifting Shogo to a more cuddleable position in her arms.

'Actually, no...'

'Yeah, Warren's schmoozing some top-heavy blonde from Worthington Industries' typing pool' – Bobby helpfully clarified, before glumly adding – 'which must mean the imminent return of Thunderbird and his dreaded vegan stews.'

'You'll be happy to know they are not from Neal, either...'

'Oh so they're from...' Kitty started to interject, but stopped when Betsy threw a dirty look her way.

'Don't even try, none of you are even close. They are not mine - I'm simply dropping them off.'

'Geez, Kitty, tired of me already?' Bobby lamented. 'I know I refused to try that thing with the limp asparagus and the coconut body butter you wanted, but you're dropping me so soon?'

Kitty blushed scarlet and elbowed her short-time lover in the ribs.

'What?! Haven't you had enough violence for one day?' Her boyfriend made a show of fussing over his "broken" rib. 'And am I not the injured party here?'

'For the love of pete, Bobby, I don't know who they're from!'

'They aren't for Kitty either...' the telepath sighed, far too refined to roll her eyes at the childishness around her.

'Okay, Betts, time to spill' – the former firecracker leaned forward conspiratorially – 'Who are they for?'

The Brit didn't bother answering, instead holding out the flowers to the shorter X-Woman. Befuddled, Jubilee stared at the offering and glanced back up at Psylocke.

'They're for you.'

'Say wha?'

The look on the former firecracker's face was priceless - her mouth slightly ajar and her crimson eyes bulging.

'Look, Betts, I like you and all…. but… in a… friend kind of way...'

'Oh you silly ninnie, they aren't from me.'

The girl glanced back down at the bouquet like it contained a thousand venomous snakes, deflecting her son's curious hand when he tried to reach for a flowering bud.

'Someone sent Sparky flowers?' There was utter amazement in Bobby's voice. 'Okay, Jubes, now it's your turn to fess up. Who's the lucky gal...'

'Or guy. Who's the hot hunk of man lovin' that's sending you roses?' Kitty finished her boyfriend's sentence.

'Hunk of what?' she croaked.

'You know, a hunk?' Kitty stretched and strolled over to give the mysterious bouquet a proper inspection. 'A beau… a man… XY chromosomes… They vaguely resemble Bobby.'

'Hey!' the very manly man protested at his lover's teasing slur.

'There isn't any guy… these aren't mine' – Jubilee took a step back from the flowers – 'Look, someone most likely got the wrong address.'

'Yeah,' Bobby agreed as he stood next to his girlfriend and inspected the white wax-sealed card that peaked out from among the buds. 'Because Westchester is just rife with Ju-bil-ay-shun Lees.' He made a point of stressing each syllable in her awkward full name.

'It could happen...'

The twosome looked unconvinced. Betts crossed her arms: if only her former masters could see her now, the sole voice of reason in school full of complete nutters. 'Will someone just please read the card.'

'Oh the card!' Kitty exclaimed, and made a grab for the scrap of embossed paper. She was intercepted by the speedy vampire, who was surprisingly agile for someone juggling a baby.

'Oh no you don't – that's my card!'

'I thought you said they weren't for you?'

The time-frozen girl replied in the only way fitting a perpetual teenager by sticking out her tongue.

The three adults tried not to peek as the girl carefully cracked the wax seal and unfolded the card.

'And the award goes to… drumroll please...' Kitty elbowed Bobby in the ribs once more and he took it like a pro, only slightly flinching this time.

Silence fell as Jubilee read, re-read and re-re-read the message.

'Oh and/or damn,' she finally muttered under her breath.

'Is everything alright, love?' asked Psylocke.

The girl didn't answer, too stupefied by the contents of the card.

'Yeah, you okay, Jubes?' Kitty prompted – as much as they teased each other, and after many years of sparring both verbally and physically, an unbreakable bond of sisterhood had formed between Logan's eldest girls.

'Sparky?' asked Bobby – he might've used his favourite nickname for the girl, but the concern in that simple name was clear.

'What?' Jubilee asked, finally feeling three pairs of eyes staring daggers at her. 'Oh yeah, it's fine...It's nothing… Really. Oh, would you look at the time! I'm totally late for my meeting with the doc.'

Without another word, she shoved the card into bottom of her bag and headed for the door, Shogo in tow.

'Jubilee?' Betts called out.

'What?'

'Your roses?'

She held the bouquet out to the vampire once more and wiggled them enticingly.

'Oh for funk's sake! Look, I don't want them. Give them to 'Ro - she likes flowers.'

'Ororo prefers her roses still growing on a bush.'

In a huff, the vampire plodded towards the telepath and snatched the offending flowers from her grasp. The other three took that as a sign of acceptance - only for the firecracker stop by the pedal bin near the door, stomp down on the lever and dump the bouquet in the trash before storming out. Leaving behind three stunned individuals.

Vampire speed was awesome! Great for fighting bad guys, changing icky diapers, mopping up spills and most importantly avoiding probing questions from your well-meaning but nosey friends.

Jubilee had never showered and changed faster in her life, and for once she'd looked forward to the long drive to the university.

The roads were still icy from the light morning snow and she jacked up the heat in the Beetle by another degree. While she might've been impervious to the winter chill, Shogo was not.

A quick glance in her rearview mirror assured her that he was a-okay - tiny hands and feet tapping along to the Baby Mozart CD she'd ordered on a whim. It still amazed her how just seeing him happy seemed to pump life back into her dead heart. It wasn't her vow to the Forgiven that kept her going, but rather one adorable mucus-poop factory.

Turing onto the packed 87 into Manhattan, she wondered how Kelly had figured out who she was. Through Donna or Dr Garu? Maybe a well-placed call to some croney at SHIELD?

The roses were nice… in a gaudy, flashy sort of way.

No one had ever sent Jubilee flowers before. Xarus and her had kinda skipped the whole courtship stage and jumped straight to the biting, shagging and world domination bit.

But as bling as the flowers were, the note was pure simplicity:

Jubilation,

Roses can't make up for the wrongs of the past, but they can be the first of many right steps into the future.

Call me - anytime: 555-9645

Yours,

David

The cynical part of her mind simmered. People like David Kelly had speechwriters who crafted perfect sound bites for a living. Did he imagine she was one of his future constituents?

Another, much smaller part felt the uncomfortable twinge of infatuation. That was squashed easily enough, Jubilee decided – she just wouldn't call. She had mommying, studying, teaching, Asteria, various X-duties and her new appointment as the doc's part time assistant to worry about. Really, what sensible, modern woman had time to date IRL?

By the time she turned into Columbia's parking lot, she'd considered the "Kelly dilemma" well and truly dealt with.

Over the few months she had come to know the Swedish physicist, Jubilee had his personality pegged as "Mostly mopey with a chance of scattered pleasantness".

Kevin, glorified math nerd and Donna's punching bag, had remarked that he didn't know how she could stand the company of the "sour Swede", but Jubes shrugged and replied that she had her ways.

Ways that she perfected as a teen on the road with that grouchy-pants Wolverine. Logan was "happiest" with a cold beer and a piece of rare beef. Doc Holgersson was most content when his equations equated and his candy jar was overflowing. Both were simple men to please once you understood them.

Today though, the doc was acting… weird. He'd explained her assignment for the next few hours (MOAR FILING OF DOOM) and had returned to scribbling on the whiteboard while practically whistling. He hadn't even touched his batch of glazed cronut yet, and he was sipping staff room coffee. What!?

Even Shogo, who was playing with his beloved wooden blocks, seemed slightly annoyed by the doc's new-found joy. Where was the gut-wrenching viking metal?

Twenty minutes into the "C" drawer, Jubilee lost her infamous patience.

'Okay, what's up?'

Mattias didn't even need to ask what she was referring to, didn't even turn from his board.

'I heard you spilled a $2 cup of champagne on some suit.'

'Who told you that?'

'No one told me, specifically' – the smugness in his tone was almost gloating – 'but Garu was grumbling so loudly about it during the faculty meeting, it was hard to miss.'

Jubilee felt her heart sink like a ten-ton weight.

'That's just peachy - just what I need in my life right now. On a scale from one to pissed off, how angry would you say he is?'

The doc shrugged his shoulders and scribbled some more. 'Who cares?'

'I care. Some of us actually want to stay in this department.'

Mattias sighed and, taking pity on the girl, put down his green marker and turned to the face the epitome of sulk.

'It's Garu - he's worried that this Kelly guy's gonna pull some funding. Which isn't even an option, because the Kelly family has never given this institution two nickles. Columbia is far too liberal for their taste.'

Jubilee didn't look convinced.

'David Kelly doesn't care about Hank McCoy's lectures, he only cares about being seen to care. Attitudes towards mutants are changing and the Kelly's are covered in FoH stink.'

Mattias moved over to his sainted batch of confectionery and handed one to his student. The firecracker took it, and dejectedly took a seat next to her son.

Three bites into his own slice of heaven, the doc continued.

'And anyway, Garu wouldn't dare touch you. You're the freshman that delivered the bounty that is the great Dr McCoy, and while your grades, unlike your inability to walk from one side of a room to the other without tripping, aren't setting the department alight. you're still better than most of Garu's pampered brats.'

There was a slight curve to her lips.

'You're just saying that to make me feel better.'

'Well… yes, but you're still not going anywhere soon.'

'And why's that?'

'Because, Miss Lee, until "folder mountain" over there is no more' – the Doc gestured to the pile of papers with his gloved appendage – 'Garu will have to pry you from my cold dead Swedish hand.'

She reached over and good-naturedly needled him in the rips.

'Hey, no hitting your boss, missy! Ouch!' – he patted his mock-injured ribs – What do they feed you in the Salem Center? For such a skinny thing, you pack a nasty punch.'

Pastry finished, Jubilee rub the stickiness from her hands on a napkin and returned to the mountain. She was still upset, but things were starting to look up – or maybe that was just the gallons of fat and toffee glaze coursing through her system.

'So what you're saying is, there shouldn't be any repercussions from the other night?'

The doc seemed to roll the question around in his brain, before devouring the last cronut in the box and returning to his board.

'I wouldn't say no repercussions… If you're gonna make a habit of dunking politicians in cheap bubbly and pissing off Garu, I might actually start attending faculty-mandated functions.'

Mattias ducked out of the way to spare his ribs anymore punishment, but Jubes let him be to return to her filling, muttering about "Swedes". She shoved a file labeled "Behaviour Patterns X' into the cabinet marked "F" and felt better for that small act of rebellion. That would teach the doc for calling her a skinny thing.

Next Time: The best laid plans of mice and Miss Lee's often go awry as David Kelly tries to stake a claim...

But first...we look into the past where an assassin lurks in the shadows, Cyclops receives a small assignment that will echo through the ages and Jubilee tries falafel for the first time...