Disclaimer: Marvel's characters, no money off of this.

WARNING: Sexual situations, mild swearing.  Wolverine and an adult Jubilee have consummated their relationship

True Confessions of a Firecracker
By Mercutio
(mercutio@europa.com)

Part Three


Jubilee wondered sleepily what had happened to the bed as she
struggled up to consciousness. Twin beds were always narrow, but
she seemed to be sleeping even closer to the wall than usual.
Terribly uncomfortable.

Yawning, she began evaluating her surroundings. Hmm... as her
right arm stretched, her hand met the wall. Wall, check. She
hunched her shoulders, feeling muscles complain, yawned again, then
stretched out her left arm. Her fingers met skin, textured skin
with muscles outlined strongly under it. Skin, check.

Wait a minute...

Skin? Her hand froze.

"Don't stop now, darlin'", a deep and very familiar voice
rumbled.

Her memories came fully awake at the same time she did.
Wolverine! She was in his bed! Now there was a cause for
celebration at any time. Her hand resumed stroking him, and she
curled up against his back. "Or what?" she asked, teasing him.

He flipped over, harsh face relaxed into an
uncharacteristically happy expression. "Or--" he said, pretending
to snarl, "I'll start."

"Ooh, please not that! Anything but that!" Jubilee giggled.

"Anything?" His hand ran down her body, missing nothing in
its quick but thorough caress, then settled itself at the junction
of her legs.

"Anything," Jubilee agreed, not caring what she might be
agreeing to, sure only that it would be pleasant if it involved
Wolverine.

***

Some time later, they managed to make their way out of the bed
(which wasn't nearly as kinky a place to have sex as Jubilee had
imagined it to be), and get themselves ready to face other people.
And food. Jubilee's stomach reminded her pointedly that one of the
things she'd wanted most last night was food, and that she'd
skipped it in favor of a shower with Wolverine. Not that there had
been anything wrong with the shower -- Jubilee had greatly enjoyed
the experience -- but it wasn't quite the same as a square meal.
Or whatever trapezoid she might find in the kitchen at this hour.
Which reminded her...

"What time is it?" she asked Logan.

"'Bout ten-thirty."

"Eep. I'm in trouble."

He bristled, instantly protective. "What?"

"We're supposed to be leaving at eleven. Nice overnighter and
all, but Frosty wants us back at the books as soon as possible."

Wolverine stiffened. "That so?"

Jubilee continued, oblivious. "Yeah. Can't allow us to have
too much fun -- we might start to behave like grown-ups or
something. Problem is -- how do I track her down and explain in
twenty words or less what's going on, and why I'm not coming back
with the rest of GenX. 'Cause I don't think she's gonna like this
at all."

Wolverine began to breathe again. "You're stayin'?"

She looked up at him, dumbfounded. "Duh."

Strong arms crushed her to him, and she felt a glow of
satisfaction. *Wow. He really wants me.*

"So," she began, looking up at him. "How's about a snack?"

***

The trouble was making it down to the kitchen without
incident. Not that Jubilee was as embarrassed this morning as she
had been the night before. After all, she was clothed now. That
made a big difference. On the other hand, there still remained the
niggling issue that she and Wolverine were now a couple. Not that
she wanted to hide that -- on the contrary, climbing to the top
point of the mansion's roof and shouting it out didn't seem like a
bad idea. For later. After lunch. But the knowing looks were
getting irritating.

"Ah, chere," Gambit said, as they passed him in the hallway.
"We meet at last." He reached for her hand, then bent to kiss it.
"You are even more lovely than Gambit remember."

Jubilee giggled, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was
acting like she were some supermodel. Or Rogue, or somebody.
"Remy, please--"

"Beat it, bub."

Gambit stiffened at Wolverine's challenge. "Gambit not hurt
de chere--"

Wolverine didn't bother repeating himself, but instead simply
glared up at the taller man.

The Cajun grinned in response, winked at Jubilee, and left.

"One down," Wolverine muttered.

"And all the rest to go," Jubilee said. She wondered exactly
how many people had chosen to spend the night at the mansion. If
this scene were repeated with each one, it might be hours before
she got anything to eat. And that would be a disaster. Heads
would roll.

As she thought that, Angelo and Everett came careening around
the corner. They skidded to a stop in front of Jubilee. "Jubes!"

"Yeah, that's me."

Angelo rolled his eyes, while Everett simply looked at
Wolverine. "We've been looking for you. We're leaving at eleven.
Ms. Frost is angry."

*I'll bet,* Jubilee thought. *And this isn't going to make
her feel any better.* "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll
talk to Frosty before eleven, I promise."

"So you aren't coming back?" Everett said in the restrained
voice of someone who fears they may strangle on their words.

Jubilee couldn't help tossing a smile in Wolvie's direction.
"Yeah, that's the rumor."

"Oh."

Angelo hastily pulled on Everett's arm, dragging him away from
Jubilee. "I'll let her know."

"Wait 'til--" Jubilee began. They were out of sight.
"...I've had something to eat," she finished uselessly.

"Better get a move on," Wolverine suggested, mouth twitching
suspiciously.

"Why?" Jubilee grumbled. "At this rate, there's going to be
some sort of ambush set up in the kitchen. It's all a plot, I
swear."

More glances were thrown at them as they made their way
downstairs. Cable looked openly disapproving, Betsy gave them a
thumbs up, and Bishop simply nodded and went on with what he was
doing. "Y'know," Jubilee said. "This is the first time I've
really appreciated Bishop. Gotta like a guy who minds his own
beeswax."

The kitchen was unexpectedly empty when they finally made it
through the gauntlet of the mansion's corridors. "I don't like
this. I just know that something's going to go wrong."

Wolverine already had the refrigerator door open and was
hauling out leftovers from the previous day's picnic. "Like what?"

She laid two plates down on the table and grabbed silverware
for the both of them. "I don't know. Mutant potato salad.
Exploding chicken wings. You tell me."

"Don't worry about that, darlin'. I'll take care of the
chicken." A chicken leg hung in his mouth, and as she watched in
startled amusement, he devoured it, skin, meat and all, and tossed
the bone aside for later disposal.

*Guess he's even hungrier than I am.*

That in mind, she made room on the table for all of the food
Wolverine was unearthing. Cold cuts, cheese, the aforementioned
mutant potato salad, corn, mashed potatoes, pie, still more
chicken... Her stomach growled loudly, and she started filling her
plate.

Wolverine joined her, starting in on the chicken with a
vengeance. Mindful of how fast said chicken might disappear,
Jubilee snagged two pieces for herself. Not that there wasn't a
lot of chicken left over -- more than enough for two people, even
if one of them were Beast, which neither of them were, but then
again, this was Wolvie. She didn't really want to be in the
position of reaching for a piece of chicken at the same time he
was.

She picked up her spoon, dug it into the portion of potato
salad on her plate, and --

"Just *what* do you think you're doing?" asked a cold,
collected, and very angry voice.

"Hi, Frosty," Jubilee said brightly. "Eating. Or trying to.
I think the potato salad must not want to be eaten. Part of its
mutant powers and all."

Emma Frost, headmistress of the Xavier School for Juvenile
Delinquents with Mutant Powers, stood in the doorway, her hands on
her hips. She looked royally pissed.

"That is not what I mean."

Jubilee continued to smile. This was a big triumphant moment
here. Joy caroled through her, as she faced the moment when she
finally got to tell Emma Frost off for good. "Why, I'm sleeping
with Wolvie, of course. Although right now we're eating. Want to
join us?"

"No, I do not," the White Queen said, biting off each word
with precise diction. "What I want is an explanation. A rational,
*adult* explanation. You are fully aware that we intend to return
to the Academy *today*, in approximately twenty minutes. And yet,
I find you here--"

Jubilee interrupted. "Technically, I still have time to make
it."

"--and apparently intending to *stay* here without having gone
through the courtesy of notifying either Sean or myself. What do
you have to say for yourself, Jubilation?"

She really hated being called by her first name. At least by
Frosty. It had the effect of easy listening music being played at
low volume. Definitely unsoothing. "That pretty much wraps it up.
It's been time for me to go for a while, an' this is the
opportunity I've been waiting for."

"Do you mean you *planned* this?"

"Well, yeah, more or less."

Wolverine, who had been content to eat and spectate quietly,
looked up sharply at that. "Planned?"

Jubilee found herself caught between the two of them.
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable although she didn't know why, she
said, "I knew that this picnic was coming up and that we'd all be
here. And I've been wanting to leave Generation X since I turned
eighteen. But I knew I had to wait if I wanted to be with Wolvie,
so I stuck around a little longer."

"Glad to be of assistance in filling your time until then,"
Emma said in a dangerously calm voice. "Is there anything you
didn't plan for? Or will we have to send your things here?"

Wolvie was listening *way* too sharply for Jubilee's taste.
"Yeah -- sorta. I didn't bring anything with me but the usual,
'cause all I brought was the one bag. But I packed everything
before I left -- it's in boxes under my bed."

"A fait accompli. Congratulations, Jubilation," her former
teacher said in a voice that indicated exactly the opposite. "If
you haven't already left detailed goodbye letters to all of your
friends, please be sure to take care of that. They deserve better
than to be abandoned so abruptly."

"Yeah -- okay," Jubilee said uncertainly, watching her turn
and leave the kitchen. The door shut firmly behind her, as though
the headmistress had wanted to slam it but had been too enraged to
dare do so for fear that the door would simply splinter off of its
hinges. Jubilee felt bad and strangely guilty, as though she'd
done something wrong, although she didn't know what it was she was
supposed to be feeling guilty for. Yes, she'd wanted Wolverine for
a long while, and yes, she'd acted on that impulse, and look, here
she was. She was bound to have thought about it and planned for
this day, even if she hadn't been certain that it would ever come.
Monet leafed through 'Bride's Magazine' and looked at pictures of
wedding gowns, Jubilee thought about Wolvie. What was the big
deal?

Jubilee turned to Wolverine, looking for some sort of answer.

His face was set in grim lines, and he growled at her. "You
mind tellin' *me* what's goin' on?"

"What?" she asked, shocked at his sudden betrayal. Why was he
so angry with her?

"I don't like bein' backed into a corner. An' I don't like it
when people try t'make me do what they want. But ya did that
anyway it seems. Planned all of this."

"I--" she fought for words. "I wanted it to happen--"

"Shoulda listened last night when ya told Jean you were on the
Pill."

"It made sense--"

"Whole lotta things make sense t'me now." His eyes were very
narrow. "The paintball game. Where did the equipment come from?
Cyke hadn't planned it. Nobody said anything about it -- but all
the gear was there. Did ya have somethin' to do with that?"

She nodded unhappily, even though she didn't know why yet she
was supposed to be unhappy. "It wasn't what you think--" since she
had no idea what he was thinking, that was a safe bet, "it wasn't
set up -- I didn't know if I could get you to agree to play, so I
had the phone numbers to call to get the supplies that day if it
turned out that you *would* play."

His eyes were burning now. "Anythin' else? Arrange the
weather with 'Roro maybe?"

"No, you don't understand--" Everything was slipping
helplessly away from her. It had all been so simple. She wanted
Wolverine, and she'd done her best to get everything to work
together so that he could see that he wanted her too. She hadn't
been trying to *manipulate* him exactly. Well, not any more than
he was willing to be manipulated. She *had* set things up for the
paintball game so that she could shoot him and get him to chase her
down, but he'd seemed quite willing to chase her. It all made
sense when you looked at it that way, but the atmosphere in the
room only got tenser and tenser, and Jubilee felt that she was on
a long slippery slide unable to catch her footing as the ground
fell away beneath her. Tears came to her eyes. "It wasn't like
that, I swear."

Body rigid, he stood up, cleaned off his plate and dumped it
into the dishwasher along with his silverware. "Ya did a good job,
kid. Almost got me."

He stumped out of the kitchen. Jubilee followed him as he
walked to the front door of the mansion. "Where are you going?"

"Away. From you." He looked at her, staring in her eyes as
if searching for a person he thought he'd seen there, then shook
his head and looked away. "Bye, kid."

And then he left. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of
his motorcycle starting up. She listened to the noise fade as he
rode away.

Hands tucked around her waist, Jubilee stood on the porch,
unable to find a reaction. She didn't cry. This cut too deep for
tears and, in any case, tears would not accomplish anything. He
was gone. He'd left her deliberately, and apparently the fault was
hers. She never had gotten anything to eat either. The hollow
feeling in her stomach matched the hollow feeling in her chest.

A figure separated itself from the shadows and came to join
her. She identified it as Gambit. "P'tite--"

She ignored him. There was nothing to say. But when he
extended his arm, she stepped within its curve, resting her cheek
against his chest. The solidity of him comforted her, even though
his solidity was an illusion of its own -- Remy wasn't hers, and so
this comfort would soon vanish, just as the only comfort she wanted
and had a claim to had renounced her and ridden away.

Remy honored her silence, watching quietly as a van and a
limousine pulled up in front of the steps.

A flurry of footsteps behind them announced the arrival of
more spectators.

"Jubilee!" Paige said. "Did you come to see us off? Is it
true that you're going to stay here?"

Only Gambit heard Jubilee gulping back tears, as she found she
could cry after all. Trying to answer Paige's question set racking
self-pity through her, and she bit the inside of her lip, forcing
herself to retain control. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

Slowly, she turned in the circle of Gambit's arm to face
Paige. The other members of GenX stood behind her, with Emma Frost
and Sean Cassidy there as well. They carried their bags, although
Paige had set hers down at the sight of Jubilee's face.

"What's wrong?" Angelo asked.

"I..." Jubilee started to answer and choked. The tears she'd
been holding back began to fall, and she cried in huge, ugly sobs.
Turning further into Remy's shoulder, she hid her face from the
group. She couldn't face them now, didn't want to have to face
anyone.

Gambit answered for her. "Wolverine left da p'tite."

A wave of sympathetic murmurs came, followed by the people
murmuring them. Hands touched Jubilee gently, patting her as their
owners mouthed soothing words.

"It'll be all right, Jubes," Everett said awkwardly. "I-- I'm
sure it will."

"That's right," Angelo chimed in.

Jubilee's unhappiness flashed into anger, and she faced them,
eyes and face red. "How do you know? Maybe it shouldn't be all
right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have come here.
Maybe he should have left me."

Gambit tightened his grip on her protectively, as the students
of Generation X backed away. Her friends didn't seem to know what
to make of her grief.

Emma did. Of all of them, she alone stepped forward. Holding
her hand out to Jubilee, she said, "Come along. You won't want to
stay here now. The last thing you need is to wait and fret. If he
comes back, he knows where to find you. If he doesn't... well,
then... perhaps you would like to ride alone with me on the way
back to school?"

She phrased her sentences in her characteristically cold
manner, but her tone was kind despite their earlier confrontation
in the kitchen. She cared; Jubilee knew that. It was one reason
Jubilee had always reacted so strongly to Emma. The White Queen
could be as protective and smothering as ten thousand mothers, and
Jubilee had already one. She didn't need another. Except maybe
now...

"Yes," Jubilee said slowly, uncurling herself from Gambit and
taking Emma's hand. "I... I think I'd like that very much."

"Good. It's all settled then." Emma turned to address the
others. "Paige, you are responsible for ensuring that Jubilee's
belongings return in proper order. Sean, I trust that you will be
able to cope with the trip back by yourself."

Sean nodded slowly. "In this case, yes. Definitely."

"Au revoir, p'tite." Gambit bowed over Jubilee's hand.
"Gambit t'ink dat the only mistake made here made by Wolverine."

"Thanks," she said. "You... you're wrong... but thanks."

He watched Emma lead her to the limousine, and shook his head.
"Gambit not wrong. Not 'bout dis."


-the end-


Well, is Gambit right? Will Wolverine come back? Will the author
engage in shameless cliffhangers in order to get feedback? Will
there be another story that resolves this whole mess? Find out
next week on FOX -- When Fictives Attack.


---mercutio@europa.com---
"People think it must be fun to be a super
genius, but they don't realize how hard it
is to put up with all the idiots in the world."
--Calvin, "Calvin and Hobbes"