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Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York
Early Morning/Back Lawn


Ororo hovered in the air, cross legged, eyes closed, practicing the meditative mantra Logan had taught her. She focused on her inner self, trying to find her center but it was immeasurably difficult with all of the inner turmoil rolling around inside her.
“Mind if I join you?” A slightly accented voice asked quietly.
Ororo opened one eye, glancing at the approaching figure of Elizabeth Braddock. She was dressed in a dark purple robe, accented with dragons and bonsai trees. It was a bit unnerving to hear that slightly accented British voice coming from a clearly Japanese Kunoichi body. She was a startlingly attractive woman, with deep penetrating eyes and a calm demeanor. Betsy was the newest member of the X-Men Black squad and Ororo got the impression there was far more to the woman than she let on.
“Not at all,” Ororo said.
Betsy knelt close to where Ororo hovered, her hands moving in graceful, intricate patterns, bending, flowing. She ended with her hands pressed palms together in the very center of her chest, a low hum coming from her.
Ororo watched, slowly lowering herself to the ground, fascinated. “That was beautiful.”
Betsy nodded, her long hair gleaming in the early morning sun. “It’s a bit of many different things blended into one. A touch of Shin-shin-toitsu-do, with yoga and ballet. It’s a reflection of me, I guess.”
“If that’s true, you have a beautiful soul.”
“That’s debatable.” Betsy inhaled deeply, stretching her arms, opening them wide as if embracing the entire world. “You seem pretty familiar with meditation.”
“Getting there.” Ororo closed her eyes, leaning her head back, enjoying the cool breeze caressing her face. “I had a good teacher.”
“Wolverine, right?” Betsy moved to stand, dropping her robe, revealing a tight, stealth outfit. “I met him once. Interesting man.”
One corner of Ororo’s mouth tilted. “That’s a word for him.”
Betsy remained silent. She stretched one leg high in the air, holding the position for a long moment, balancing on the ball of her cloth covered other foot, turning slowly. “Do you spar?” she asked, switching legs.
Ororo nodded. She rose to her feet, taking a fighting stance, her toes twitching in the grass. “Ready?”
Betsy nodded. Without so much as a blink to give her away, she swung her foot, catching Storm in the side. Storm grunted, but didn’t fall. “You’re quick,” she told Betsy.
“I am.”
Betsy dipped, the heel of her left foot rising, swinging towards Storm’s jaw. Storm back flipped out of the way, landing low and sweeping Betsy’s right foot out from under her. Betsy hit the ground, but quickly rolled back, planting her hands and bending her spine in a polished arc. “Your quick.”
“I am.”
Betsy smiled. They continued to spar for several minutes, blocking, punching, kicking, each moving with grace and precision. Betsy moved with stunning swiftness, leaping into the air, one leg extended, the other curved behind her. She hit Storm directly in the chest but Storm had seen it coming and grabbed the other woman’s ankle, twisting, flipping her. Betsy grunted as she hit the ground, but at the last minute, she uncurled her hooked her leg, pulling Storm down with her.
They were both winded as they stood, brushing the grass from their clothes. “You’re pretty good,” Betsy said with genuine admiration.
“Like I said, I had a good teacher.”
Betsy nodded. “Where is Wolverine anyway? I heard he disappeared a few months ago, went off and left his wife or something.”
Ororo held up her left hand, the gold band glinting in the sun. “Or something.”
Betsy gave a startled gasp. “You’re married to the Wolverine?”
“Why is it people always say it like that? So disbelieving.” Ororo muttered shaking her head. She rotated her shoulders. Married? Were they really? Was it still a marriage if you didn’t know where the other person was, hadn’t spoken to them in what felt like forever? What was that? Because as far as she was concerned it was not a marriage.
“Sorry. I only met the guy once, like I said, but he didn’t really seem like the settling down type. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Ororo waved her hand. “Don’t be. It’s nice to know there’s at least one other person at this place not absorbed in the gossip and rumors that run rampant around here.” She left it unsaid that obviously he wasn’t the settling down type, or he’d be there. With her. Bastard. Thunder rumbled.
Betsy glanced up at the clear sky, frowning. She gave Storm a speculative look but said nothing, instead stretching, cooling down from their brief sparring.
*BAMF*
“Guten morgen, Storm.”
“Good morning, Nightcrawler.” Ororo smiled at the fuzzy blue mutant now standing directly in front of her. “You’re up early.”
“Not really. I usually rise at dawn and say a morning prayer.”
Storm glanced over her shoulder. “Have you met Betsy yet?”
“Ja. We had lunch they other day.” Kurt inclined his head at Betsy, who gave him a brief wave in return. He turned back to Storm. “The Professor sent me to get you.”
“Why didn’t he just buzz?” she tapped her head.
“He said something about interrupting you finding your center? Shall we?” Kurt reached for her.
Storm gave him a quick grin before leaping into his arms. “We shall. Later, Betsy.”
*BAMF*


Headmaster’s Office

Ororo stood in front of Xavier’s desk, still wearing her Gi, knowing what this meeting was about. Her year was up, classes had ended, summer break was upon them, and it was time to make the decision on whether she was staying or leaving.
Charles looked up at her, folding his hands together on the desk, waiting for her to speak, to answer the question.
“When I came here, I came because I thought you could help me, and you recruited me for the same reason; you thought I could help you. To that end I think we’ve both come through.” Ororo sighed. “I have a lot to thank you for, Charles. And even more to hate you for, but I can’t hate you. You do what you believe you must to fulfill your dream. Although I don’t agree with your methodology I have begun to take the dream into my heart. There are many out there who want to see you and this place destroyed. I can’t let that happen. Your ideals have become my ideals. If it helps to make people think a little bit more what those ideals are, then I'll keep wearing this uniform.”
Xavier smiled slowly.
“You knew I was going to stay, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I had a feeling.”
“Mmhm.” She crossed her arms. “I still think you’re a manipulative geezer.”
“I still think you’re an obnoxious criminal.”
“Okay, good.” She walked to the door. “I also think you have a good soul.” She closed the door behind her.
Charles shook his head, saying quietly, “I think you saved it.”


Later
Loft

“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do you think she’ll leave?”
“Non. Stormy not leave Gambit, and I won’ leave you. She’ll stay.”
There was a long silence. “She’s given up on him coming back.”
Gambit sighed. “I know.”
“She’s become hard.” Ali kissed his hairless chest. “Although I must admit, she looks almost as good in your getup as you do.” Storm had taken to wearing dark clothes and was often seen in her thief’s garb of dark pants, and form fitting black ribbed tee and gloves. It was a comfort thing for her, bringing back fond memories of her time with Gambit and Jean-Luc in New Orleans. Happy memories that didn’t include Wolverine. Something she needed to hold on to, trying to convince herself of the fact that she could be happy without him.
“She’s not ‘ard, Ali. She’s coping, da only way she knows ‘ow.”
“She tried so hard to find him.” Ali laid her head on Gambit’s chest, remembering the countless hours Storm spent on the phone, calling in favors and trying to track Wolverine down. Cerebro had been unable to locate him, not that they had really expected to be able to. When Wolverine didn’t want to be found, he didn’t get found. Storm had even flown to Canada, trying to find him, but with no luck. She had returned with a deep sadness in her eyes and try as they might no one could bring the spark back into her baby blues. She smiled and she joked but it was an act, a very convincing act, as it had most people thinking she was fine, but Ali and Gambit knew better. Storm was slowly dying inside and there was nothing they could do to stop it. “She loves him so much.”
“I know, ma petite bella.” Gambit stroked her bare back. “Not dat ‘e deserves it.”
Ali snuggled closer at the hard tone in Remy’s voice. He had been furious with Wolverine for weeks now, and it didn’t look like that was wearing off anytime soon. “I think he loves her too. I think that’s why he left.”
“Dat make no sense, Ali.” Gambit hugged her tight. “You don’ leave da ones you love.”
Ali shrugged. “Storm left you once to protect you. Maybe he‘s doing the same for her.”
Gambit muttered a slew of Cajun curses under his breath, rolling Ali onto her back. “No more talk of da Wolverine.” He slowly lifted her leg, settling between her thighs. “Der be so many ot’er more interesting t’ing t’ discuss.”
“Funny,” she gasped. “But I don’t think we’re going to do much talking.”
Gambit slid into her slowly, hissing between clenched teeth. “Sure we are, chere. Can you no’ ‘ear my body talkin’ t’ yours.”
Ali closed her eyes as he moved. “Remy,” she moaned.
“Listen, ma petite.” He kissed her neck, his tongue tasting her skin. He moved slowly, unhurried, drawing out the experience, the feel of her small body wrapped around his an indescribable pleasure. “Je t’aime, Ali.”
“Remy…Oh, god.” Ali clutched his shoulders as he slid nearly out of her, then surging forward, filling her.
Gambit rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing heavy as he stroked. For all his skill, all his experience, all of his years as a practiced seducer, nothing had ever felt as good or as right as Ali. “Say da words, Ali. I need da words.”
She smiled her impish smile, wrapping her legs higher on his back, lifting herself against him. “I am saying them, Etienne. Aren’t you listening?”
“Ali…”
“Je t’aime,” she whimpered as he increased his rhythm. “I love you!”
Outside the bedroom door, Ororo’s hand froze mid-descent. She had come to invite her brother and Alison out to dinner, but obviously Gambit and Ali were occupied. She turned, making her way down the narrow staircase, a small smile on her face. Their happiness meant the world to her. She knew that lately they had kept their flirtations and innuendos down to a minimum when she was around and it bothered her that they felt she couldn’t handle seeing them together. It wasn’t their fault she was alone. She didn’t begrudge them their happiness, in fact, it was one of the few bright spots in her life right now.
The lobby was empty as she strode through it, her boots making muffled thuds on the marble, her long ponytail bouncing as she walked. She climbed the main staircase, heading to the second floor where her bedroom was. She had moved back into the mansion a few days ago, leaving the boathouse and the memories it contained within it behind. Ali and Gambit had offered her the loft again, but she had declined. That was their haven now, and she wouldn’t take it from them.
She unlocked the door and stepped into the sparse room. She hadn’t bothered decorating, leaving the room borderline sterile and bare. She sat on the bed, untying her boots, sliding them off and dropping them beside the bed. She turned on her stereo and the haunting melody of the Cure’s ‘Love Song’ filled the room. She sighed. Figures.
With a small grunt she laid back, staring at the fan slowly circling overhead. She lifted her left hand, staring at the gold circlet hugging her third finger.
~What are we doing here?~
~It’s a chapel, Storm? What do you think we’re doing?~
~You can’t be serious?~
A hard, passionate kiss. ~Very. So, whaddya say, darlin’? Marry me?~
~Yes!~ He held her tight, swinging her around. ~Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes!~
~Yer stuck with me now. I ain’t ever gonna let ya go.~
Ororo squeezed burning eyes shut. “Liar.”

Los Angeles, California
Evening

Wolverine watched as the young girl left the arcade, her yellow slicker nearly dragging on the floor behind her. She pushed overly large sunglasses up her face, setting her jaw in a stubborn tilt. He finished his coffee, getting up, following her.
He had spotted her hours ago in the electronics department of the same store that housed the mini arcade. She had been holding a digital camera when it had suddenly melted in her hands. She had hastily put it down, but he had caught the scent of burning plastic and had witnessed the melt down of the Kodak. A mutant. Young by the looks of her, and alone. Not the best of combinations.
He had gone back to browsing cds, looking for some aggressive music, a habit he picked up from ‘Ro, but he had been unable to shake the girl from his mind. With an agitated growl he had sought her out. It had only taken him a few minutes to find her in the arcade, playing some ridiculous outlaw shoot ‘em up game. He had gone to the food court Starbuck’s grabbed a coffee and sat on one of the small resting benches to wait. For what he wasn’t sure, but he trusted his instincts, so he had sat.
The girl was heading for the exit now, pushing open a set of doors, walking into the night, sunglasses still on. She glanced over her shoulder, as if sensing she was being watched, but shrugged, dismissing it when she saw no one behind her. She was halfway across the nearly vacant parking lot, deep in the shadows when she was tackled. She hit the pavement hard, knocking her sunglasses off her face, breaking them.
“Ah, man, I just stole those,” she grumbled. Three men stood over her, leering down at her.
“Hey baby,” one of the three men standing over her said. “You like cock?” He grabbed himself crudely.
“You like fireworks?” she returned, rolling to her knees.
“Huh?”
A blast of colorful plasma erupted from the girls hands, causing the men to step back, but not retreat. “A mutie! Ohho! This is gonna be fun!” One of the men grabbed her from behind, jerking her arms back. He smelled of sour milk and beer, making her gag.
“Hands off!” She screamed.
“C’mon, baby, you might like it.” The skinniest of the three stood in front of her. He leaned close, peering at her face. “I ain’t never fucked a chink before.”
The girl kicked at him. “Asshole!”
He laughed crudely. “Is that where you want it? My pleasure, bitch.” The guy reached for her, but was suddenly flung back, skidding across the asphalt.
Wolverine bared his fangs at the man holding the girl. “Let her go, candy-ass, or I cut off yer balls.” -SNIKT-
“Easy man.” the scruffy looking man shoved the young girl towards him, pulling out a gun as he did so. The girl screamed, unleashing a series of bright ‘pafs’ in the man’s face.
“Cripes, kid!” Wolverine covered his eyes as the flashes momentarily blinded him.
A gunshot rang out and Wolverine grunted, feeling the bullet penetrate his gut. He straightened slowly, blinking the three men back into focus. “Now ya’ve gone and pissed me off.”
The gun toting scruff pulled the trigger again as Wolverine approached him, hitting Wolverine in the chest three times. Wolverine dropped to one knee, took a couple of deep breaths and rose again, his white shirt scarlet. He smiled at the three men. “How many more of those ya got?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Not even close.” Within seconds the three men lay on the ground, broken and bloody. Wolverine stood over the skinny one, snarling. “You fuckers ever touch another kid, woman, or dog I’ll hunt ya down and remove yer spines.” He bent, ruthlessly slicing a hand from each one of them. “Just a reminder, gimps.”
He retracted, turning back to the wide eyed girl in the yellow slicker.
“Stay back, dementoid!” she cried, backing away from him.
“Look, kid, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I just saved yer ass.”
“How do I know you aren’t some perv like those three?”
Wolverine snorted. “Ya ain’t my type.”
The girl placed her hands on her hips. “Hey! I’m cute!” she sounded defensive.
Wolverine shook his head. “So what? Ya want me ta attack ya?”
“Uh, no.”
“Let’s go, kid, before unwanted company shows up. Where do ya live?”
The girl shrugged. “Wherever.”
“Look, kid, I don’t got time fer this shit. Where do ya live?”
“I’m currently between homes.”
“Yer homeless?”
“I prefer the term un-sheltered. And the name’s not kid. I’m Jubilation Lee, but you can call me Jubilee.” She gave him a toothy smile. “What’s your name?”
“Wolverine.”
“Ugh. Did your parents not like you?”
He gave her a small lip curl. She held up her hands. “Okay, Wolverine. How ‘bouts I call ya Wolvie?”
“Not if you want me ta answer.” He grabbed her arm as he walked past her, pulling her behind him.
“Hey! Where we going?”
“Away. Trouble coming.”
Jubilee looked over her shoulder, wincing at the sight of her three attackers still laying in a bloody pile on the pavement. “So, what’re you? Some kind of mutant vigilante?”
“Something like that. Move kid.”

Minutes Later

“You sure?”
The soldier looked at the bloody severed hands on the ground. “I’m sure, sir. We’re getting parking lot surveillance video now. Do we dispatch a sentinel?”
“No. He’s off the radar by now.”
“But, sir, shouldn’t we try to catch him while he’s in the area.”
There was a short bark of laughter. “You wanna die, you go right ahead and try and catch him.”
“Orders, sir?”
“Verify with the video, then call me back.”

Burger King

“You might wanna try chewin’.”
“I’msohungryhaven’teateninliketwodaysthanksfortheburger.”
Wolverine raised one ebony brow. “Sure, kid.” He watched in mild fascination as the slight teenage girl in front of him downed a Whopper in less time than it took to say the word. She was a spunky thing, that was for sure. She had short dark hair, held out of her face by two chunky barrettes, her deep chocolate eyes were slightly tilted, giving her a curious aura of mischief and mystery, she had a small nose and a bow shaped mouth. She met his steel gaze unflinchingly and with open curiosity.
Jubilee slurped her shake. “Man, that hit the spot.” She gave his fries a predatory look. “You gonna eat those?”
He slid the cardboard container across the table, careful to keep his jacket closed over his bloodstained shirt.
“Thanks.” She shoved a handful of fries into her mouth. She caught a glint of metal as he reached for his drink and she said, “Hey, you’re married. Whaddya doing picking up sweet little girls like me for?”
Wolverine glanced at his hand and felt a familiar pang of longing. “I ain’t picking up sweet little girls. I just happened ta be in the area.”
“Uhn-huh. So what’s the little woman like? She as ‘friendly’ as you? What‘s her name? She a mutant?”
Wolverine gave her a had stare. “You ask an awful lot of questions.”
“How else am I supposed to get the answer?”
“Hnh.”
“What’s that mean? Hnh. I haven’t known you long enough to know what grunt means what. Help me out.”
“It means I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ohh. Did you guys split up?” She leaned forward in a conspirator way. “Another man?” she whispered.
“Kid,” he growled.
“Okay, okay. Geesh, touchy.” She picked up some more fries. “So where we going next?”
“What’s this we shit?”
She gave him a look. “You can’t just swoop in all Lone Ranger and rescue me then ditch me. Tell you what, I’ll be your Tonto.”
“You’re not right in the head, are ya, kid?”
She seemed to give that some serious contemplation. “Well, considering I’m a fifteen year old homeless orphan, eating in a nearly empty BK, practically alone with a man who I’ve known for maybe twenty minutes, who, in that short time has proven to be not only be dark, but dangerous, would indicate that no, no I am not right in the head.” She took another sip of her shake. “Thanks for asking.”
“You aren’t gonna just go away, are ya?”
“Nope.”
Wolverine grabbed his burger. “You really got no home?”
For the first time she looked momentarily sad, then she smiled again. “The world is my playground. Or at least the Beverly Center Mall.”
Wolverine grunted again, to which Jubilee rolled her eyes. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “I know a place that you could go,” he said. “A place for gifted kids like yerself.”
“Gifted?” she laughed. “That's just a nice way of saying, weirdo.”
Wolverine chuckled a bit. “Yeah, there are definitely a few of those there.”
“So, where is this place?”
“New York.”
“New York City?”
“No. In Westchester to be specific. Salem Center. It‘s a school.”
Jubilee shook her head. “No thanks. I like being on my own. Making my own way, ya know, a rebel, a loner.” She puffed her chest out.
“Ya like getting jumped? Starving? Never having a place ta call home?”
She sat back, deflated. “No.” she mumbled. “But a school?”
“Ya’d like it.”
“How would you know. You’ve only known me for half an hour. Maybe I’m a deranged serial killer, luring you to your demise. How about that? Huh?”
Wolverine rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I’ll try and keep my terror in check.”
Jubilee tossed a fry at him. After a minute she asked, “So, a school?”
He nodded. “It’s a mansion.” That got her attention. She leaned forward, eyes wide.
“Is there a pool?”
“Yup.”
“Games?”
“Plenty of those.”
“Boys?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Hot boys?”
“Kid.”
“Sorry.” She rested her chin in her hand. “It’s for mutants?”
“Yes.”
“Norms?”
“No.”
“Hmm.”
“Look, kid, I think ya’d fit right in. If ya want we’ll put ya on the next flight out of LAX.”
She looked both skeptical and hopeful. “Why would you do that?”
Wolverine shrugged but his voice was rough. “Cuz ya remind me of someone.”
Jubilee glanced at the ring on his finger again, wondering if he was a widower. “Can I sleep on it?”
“Sure, kid.”
Jubilee smiled, finishing the shake. “So, seriously, what kind of name is Wolverine?”





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