Two: Morning

Her hunt for the Midol unsuccessful, Jubilee wondered if Bobby might like to cuddle awhile.  Vaguely, she could hear someone calling her name, but as it wasn't Bobby, she ignored it.  She was a young woman with a mission, and he had to be there somewhere.  Hands on her hips, she drummed her fingers. "Where, oh where, has Iceman gone?"  She sing-songed softly.

 

A predatory smile curved her lips, "The Danger Room," and she strode in that direction.

~~~~~

"Oh, sugah!"  Rogue beamed at Remy.  "Ah jest knew ya loved me!"

The table was piled high with bags of chips and cookies, pies and brownies; packets of McDonalds French fries, a large bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken chicken and a bottle of extra-strength Tums.  Every food item Rogue and Jubilee had requested was there, and then some.

Logan picked up one bag.  "This is Jubilee's.  It's got those girlie things she wanted."  He glanced around, half expecting her to walk in.  "Where is she, anyway?"

Rogue opened up a cheesecake, shrugged, "Ah dunno, Ah ain't her keeper," and began eating it out of the box.  She closed her eyes, "Mmmm...." licked her lips, then opened her eyes with an expression of extreme concentration. "Need salty."

 

Rogue headed back into the pantry.

Remy fled, leaving Wolverine with two bags of 'girlie things' to deliver.

Logan snorted. "Thank a lot, pal."

~~~~~

Scott peered slowly, cautiously, around the corner into the kitchen.  He could hear Rogue, but he couldn't see her.  Man, he pressed one hand to his growling stomach; he was hungry again already.  Maybe he could sneak in, grab something and sneak back out.  A nice military maneuver.  He could do it, sure he could.  Scott stepped in, just as Rogue came from the pantry, eating something that looked like a pumpkin or sweet potato pie right out of the box.  Her eyes were glazed.  Senses hones from years of fighting enemies prickled.  Uh-oh.  Better get the hell out of....

"Scott?"  Rogue mumbled with her mouth full, eyes clearing a she registered another human body in the room and correctly identified him.

Retreat!  Retreat!  Sweat beaded on his brow.  "Uh...yeah?"

"Ah know yer Jean's boyfrien' an' all, but..."  She swallowed her bite.

Too late.  Damn.  He could see this one coming.  Why hadn't he retreated when he'd had the chance?  "Yeah?"

"Do you think...?"

When did he get assigned to a bomb squad?

"...that Ah'm pretty?  Ah mean, Ah know Ah'm not gorgeous like Jean, but...."  Her eyes moved to the table behind him.  "There they are!"

The pie was dumped on the counter, her hands pushing him aside.  "Outta the way, there's chips t'be eaten."  She ripped open the bag, glaring at him as though he'd try and take them from her.

Scott turned and ran before she could remember her question.

~~~~~

"Jean?"  Wolverine held up one bag. "Here's yer...things."

She looked up from her scrubbing of the parquet landing.  "Tampons.  They're called tampons, Logan.  Tam-pons.  T-A-M-P-O-N-S, tampons, and get off the floor I just scrubbed!  Jeez, I'll bet you didn't even wipe your boots off, I'd swear you were born in a barn."

He stepped back onto the carpet and set one bag down.  "I'll leave it here."

"Fine.  Leave.  I'm busy."

He started down the stairs.

"Not that way!"  She sat back on her heels.  "Go the other way."

Logan glanced at the expanse so floor she'd only a moment earlier yelled at him for standing on, then at the carpet a long way off.  "Okay...."

But when he stepped, she yelled. "Logan!  Get off that!"

"Well, Jeanie, how the hell d'ya expect me to get across here without steppin' on it?  This I'd like to know, because it's not like I can fly or nothin', unless yer gonna transport me across it."

"There is absolutely no need for you to get sarcastic with me.  I swear, some day, some woman is gonna have just about enough of your sarcastic ass and your gonna learn what's for."

Be strong.  Don't back down.

"Shoes off, mister."

Hiking boots, the sturdy kind that took ten minutes to put on, and she wanted him to take them off?  "No."

Jean stood, raised a brow.  "What did you just say?  Because, I must be dreaming, I thought I heard a refusal come from your lips.  That can't be right though, can it?  Could you actually be behaving like a Neanderthal jerk?  What did you just tell me, Wolverine?"

Be...aww shit, run and live to fight another day, dude.  She was icy calm, arms crossed.  "I said of course Jean, give me a minute?"

"That's what I heard."

Twenty minutes later, he continued down the hall, carrying Jubilees' bag.  "Jubilee!"  He yelled several times.  Where had that girl gotten to?

"Logan!"  Jean came towards him, rubbing her temples.

"Uh...yeah?"

She sighed dramatically.  "You yell one more time and I will skin you alive.  Whatever pain you felt when they put the adamantium in your bones will be looked back upon fondly by the time I'm through with you.  Got it?"

Logan took the package of Midol from the bag and held it out. "Midol?"

Jean snatched it from his hand and hurried away.  A minute later, when he dared breathe, he heard a door slam somewhere on the floor above.

Damn.  Now he'd have to find some Midol for Jubilee.

~~~~~

Bobby had worked up a good fighting rhythm, when suddenly the holograms disappeared and the door slid open with a hiss.  He whirled, de-icing.  Jubilee sauntered in.  The door slid shut.

"Hi, Jubes."

She smiled, and he was frightened.

"Hi, Bobby."

Bobby took a step back, away from her.  Her voice was honey, slow and smooth, unlike her usual hyper spray of words. 

"Did...did you want to workout, Jubes?"  Please let it be that.  Somehow, he didn't think so.

One black brow shrugged in a rather flirtatious manner.  "Something like that."

"Uh...Jubes..."

"That's my name, don't wear it out."  She eyed him up and down. "Lookin' good, Bobby.  Very good.  As in 'what a kickin' bod' good.  I mean that.  I'm not just sayin' it."

"Thanks." He edged towards the door, but she kept directly in his way. "I should..."  He couldn't move.  He wanted to, but he couldn't.  Her bright blue eyes had hypnotized him, like a snake did it's prey.

Jubilee's voice took on a coy edge. "You should stay right here with me.  I'll help you work out.  It'll be fun."  Her hand stretched out, ran lightly across his chest.  "Lots of fun."

"I don't think...."

Before he could move, or even think about moving, she'd launched herself at him.  Bobby lost his balance, arms flailing for a brief moment, "Oh!", before they fell to the mat, Jubilee straddling his hips, her hands next to his head.  All of his breath whooshed out and he struggled for more, stunned from the fall.  Bobby blinked and she leaned down.

"Relax, Bobby.  I'm not gonna hurt'cha."

 

Now she had him.  Triumphantly, Jubilee touched her lips to his, arching her back.  She wiggled, getting comfortable on him.

"Mon miggle." He muttered, trying to keep his mouth shut.  "Mon moo mat."

"What?" She sat up, re-adjusting herself.

Bobby flushed scarlet.  Her moving around like that felt...extremely good. "Don't wiggle.  Don't do that."  The words came out in a rush.

"Why not?" She took his hands, which were shaking, and placed them on her lower back, right where the ache was.

Why indeed?  Bobby groped for the right words.

When he didn't answer, Jubilee grinned. "What's the matter?  You like it?"

Wiggle, wiggle.

"Jubes, stop." He could always throw her off, but didn't want to hurt her.  "Jubes, stop!"  Really, really good....

Wiggle, wiggle.

"Make me, Bobby."

He curled his hands under her thigh and lifted.  "Get off me, Jubilee."

She lost her balance on him, tumbled to the side. "Bobby!"

Rolling quickly, he got to his feet. "I like you, Jubes, but..."

Jubilee scowled, rubbing her back.  "What'd you do that for?"

Bobby scrambled to the door.

With a flying leap, Jubilee tackled him.

~~~~~

"Pig.  He's such a pig.  Toothpaste everywhere."  Jean stared at the one tiny speck of toothpaste in the sink, barely even visible to the naked eye.  "Piss on the seat.  What the hell does he do, whip it about when he's taking a leak?  Do I have to paint a target in the bowl?"

She got onto her knees, squirted cleanser around the toilet base and scrubbed it with an old toothbrush.  "Does he ever bother to clean up?  No.  Leave it for Jean to do.  Let's leave the dirty clothes on the floor," she shot a dark look into their bedroom where a single sock had fallen out of the hamper and lay between it and the dresser, barely visible, " and put the wet towels in the hamper."

Okay, he really was guilty of that one.

"Jean'll take care of it.  Hmmph.  I don't have to put the seat down in the middle of the night; who cares if Jean falls in?"  She snorted.  "Pig.  He's such a pig.  Rogue's lucky Remy's not a pig like Scott is.  Pain-in-the-ass-pig is spelled S-C-O-double T."

Jean stood, scowled at the three or four hairs in the sink, little tiny ones. "Hair in the sink again.  Can't he ever clean it out?  Oh, no, Jean'll do it.  Nice Jean.  Good Jean.  Well fuck being nice!"

~~~~~~

Cigars.  I need cigars.  And a beer or six.  Who cares if it's only ten fucking a.m.?  I'm gonna have a beer and some cigars.  Or a cigar and some beers.  Wolverine rounded the corner and promptly fell over Storm's prone body.  "What the....!"  He cracked his chin on the floor and tasted blood.  "'Ro, you okay?"

She opened her eyes, sat up in a languid fashion.

He saw she was still in her nightgown and robe.

"'M-fine, Logan.  And you?"  Always the polite lady, even when spaced out.

"'Ro, it's ten.  You gonna get dressed, darlin'?"

She looked down at herself as though surprised to find she wasn't dressed.  "Mmm-hmm.  So tired though."

He lifted her limp arms and placed them about his neck. "Uh-huh.  Upsy-daisy." Logan stood, pulling her with him.  She leaned limply on him.  "That's it, darlin'.  Move yer feet for me."

Storm tried to comply. "I have always liked you, Logan."

"Uh-huh."

"You pretend to be this gruff and moody macho guy, but inside I know you're a softhearted man.  You're so good with young Jubilee...."

"Pick yer feet up, 'Ro; you actually have to move them to walk."

"'kay." She tightened her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, head rolling drunkenly.  "Do you think I'm pretty, Logan?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're a babe, 'Ro.  Playmate material.  Heff's gonna call you any day to pose."

"You say the sweetest things, Logan."

Which further confirmed his opinion that she wasn't thinking clearly.  Usually, she'd go into this spiel about how nudie mags were degrading to women, upon which he'd bring up National Geographic, which showed pictures of topless women.  They'd finally agree, each time, to disagree.  He shouldered open the door to her attic retreat, lifted her bodily and laid her on her unmade bed.  Wolverine took her slippers off and pulled the covers over her.  "Take a nap, 'Ro, and if you must get up, for God's sake, don't operate any heavy machinery."

"But I'm pretty though?"

"Gorgeous."  He replied, shutting the door and leaning against it.  He'd come upstairs for something, now what was it?  Shit.  He couldn't remember.  He was gettin' as bad as the women.  Disgustedly, Wolverine went downstairs to the rec room.

~~~~~

"Ow!"  Jubilee screeched.  "Shit!  Fuck!  Oh, man that hurts!"

Bobby gasped for breath; the vacuum suction lip-lock she'd had on him gone.  "Wha--"

She climbed off him.  "Oh, God, where's the Midol?"

"Jubes?"  He called out as she staggered to the door.

Rubbing her back miserably, she looked over at him.  "What do you want?"

He moved his wrists gingerly.  "Untie me?"

She seemed like she might be considering it, until she opened her mouth.  "Do you know where the Midol is?"

"No."

"Then you can just stay tied up."

Bobby watched Jubilee flounce away and out the door.  "Hey Jubes!  Untie me!"

~~~~~

A session in the Danger Room was exactly what he needed, Remy decided, opening the door.  He stopped.  "Uh...Bobby?  Mon ami?  Why you half-naked and tied t'da pipe?"

"Jubilee.  She just left here muttering about Midol."

Remy nodded.  "Dat sounds like her today."

The bonds holding Bobby iced over and crumbled.  He rubbed his wrists. "She tackled me, I hit my head, and then I woke up, half-naked and tied to the pipe.  I think I was lucky she didn't take my pants off, too."

"She tied you up?  Jubilee?"

"Yeah."  Bobby reached for his shirt, put it on. "She ties a mean knot, too."

Remy looked at him speculatively.  "You do dis often den?"

"No, never!"  His expression was horrified.  "Usually, she just ignores me every month, but this time...she's blowing hot and cold at me.  One minute she's trying to put her tongue down my throat, and the next she's..."

"Looking for de Midol."  Remy finished.

"Yeah."

"So, what do I do?"

"You don' wanna kiss her?"

"I do, but I don't."

"Rogue just eats.  P'haps dat's easier."

"What do I do?"

"Hell if I know, Mon ami, go ask Logan.  You get a problem with Rogue, you come t'me.  I don' mean t'be harsh, but get out so I can work out."

Bobby left.  Where would Wolverine be?  Rec room?

~~~~~

Wolverine looked up from practicing his pool shots, then relaxed.  It was only Bobby. "Whaddya want?" He asked cordially.

"Jubilee...she's..."

"Spit it out, Bobby."  He set his cue down.

"Jubilee won't leave me alone.  She's hot and cold..."

"Kid, we all got problems with the women today.  You're on yer own.  Deal with it."

"But...."

Wolverine picked up his cue.  "No buts, Drake."

"I don't understand why she's acting this way!"

He stared at Bobby, one brow raised.  "How old are you?"

"No, I mean, I know why, but I don't know.  She doesn't usually act this way."

       The young man's face was full of panic and Wolverine sighed. "Stay out of her way.  It's your problem if you don't.  Got it?"