Lullaby

---

Jubilee stepped out of the shower, rubbing her breasts gently. She hissed through her teeth. They hurt considerably - They were sore to the touch, sensitive even to the most forgiving of fabrics. She stared at herself naked in the mirror, hands crossed across her chest, her hair dripping cold water over her shoulders.

When she first came home, her pelvis had poked out of her sides from lack of food. Now it didn't - now her figure was back to normal, thin but not starved in appearance. She turned sideways, observing herself. She had a flat stomach, no longer concave. She had put on the weight quickly, to her relief. When one doesn't want to lose weight, adding weight was suddenly a blessing rather than a curse.

She turned back to stare at her front again and sighed. She let her arms fall, then concentrated on her chest. Her bruises were long gone. The only thing that remained was the light pinkish scars she had inflicted upon herself with Wolverine's own claws to extract the inhibitor chip that was implanted under her skin. She supposed she would always have those three scars now, a greusome reminder of her desperation for escape.

She had resorted to wearing shirts that didn't dip too low - if she wore too revealing shirts, someone would notice and ask how she got the scars. She didn't feel like explaining the where or how or why. Maybe she would be willing to tell the story later - but not now.

Her eyes travelled lower, resting on her breasts. She bit her inner cheek, evaluating herself in the mirror. Aside from her scars, her body had gone back to normal. But her breasts were definately not back to normal. For a time they had been smaller due to starvation. Now they looked ... bigger? Even her nipples had taken on a different color. Before they were light pink. Now they too looked bigger and darker, the color of blush wine.

She ran her thumbs over them and winced at the pain. Oh well - at least they were bigger. She had always wanted to look like the X-women and hated her small size. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

She put her hands on her hips, twirling in front of the mirror, getting one final look in the mirror at herself. Satisfied, she then she grabbed her towel and dried off.

---

At the Mansion...

The dining table was alive with voices. Jean, Scott, Xavier, Psylocke, Beast, Storm, and Wolverine had gone from one conversation subject to the next, like an ocean tide; constantly in motion and shifting, the topics random but not uninteresting. At first they spoke about how Generation X was going to the Mansion to display their combat skills, then they spoke about Forge's creation of a suit that would help Xavier stand upright and walk. Somewhere along the way, the naturally shifting topics of the conversation rested on the neighborhoods in New York. There was trouble brewing in the more poor parts of town where law enforcement dared not go.

"The last time we went to The Grudge on a mission, the uneasiness of all the mutants in the neighborhood made me sick." Jean said, spreading butter over her slice of bread, then passed the bread to Wolverine, who quickly passed it along to Beast, not taking any. "Everyone who resided there lived in perpetual fear."

"I haven't felt any mutant activity in that area for quite some time." Xavier commented, taking a thin slice of ham and a scoop of buttered broccoli. "Perhaps their fears weren't unfounded."

"Some of the more dangerous criminals go to that part of town, more than likely looking for sanctuary from local law enforcement."

"It is a dying neighborhood. The people there are too poor to move and homicide is a common occurance." Scott added, "They have to rely on each other just to get enough to eat since none of the food drives dare enter the area." He bit into his slice of bread.

"It's unfortunate to find oneself among the populace of The Grudge. It's a rare occurance to be able to leave the neighborhood unscathed. The figures show that those who manage to move out are usually murdered shortly thereafter. It's almost as if leaving is seen as some perversed act of betrayal by the gangs." Beast added, passing the ham to Logan.

"I heard enough about that place to last me a lifetime," Wolverine took a slice of the ham, some potatoes, and the buttered brocolli, "the gangs make sure everyone gets a share o' food and provisions, for trade of information. They take care of the normal people fine, but word has it, the gangs target the mutants." When he was offered bread again, he politely declined.

"I did notice the Friends of Humanity has been concentrating their recruitment efforts in poor neighborhoods recently. Do you think they have an influence over the gangs?" Psylocke salted her ham and took a bite, savoring its taste in her mouth. It tasted just slightly bitter this time - one of Storm's herbs , no doubt.

"I wouldn't put it past them." Jean said. "They lost a lot of support when thier Spokesman was put behind bars for allegedly selling child pornography."

"Allied with gangs, they could pose a much greater threat."

"There has been a merge in gangs. It makes for stronger forces. If this keeps up, we could have a Friends of Humanity army by next year."

Wolverine took a bite of the ham. His brow knitted together in concentration. The taste of the meat was bitter - his heightened sense of smell magnifying its taste tenfold. He looked down at the ham in shock, as if he had been bitten by it. "What's on that?" He asked, unintentionally letting his emotional guard down, just enough for every telepath in the vicinity to sense the shock, guilt, apprehension, disgust, and shame the bitter taste brought forth.

The telepaths looked at him, alarm and worry on their faces.

"That's an herb, angostura. I grew it myself. It helps with digestion." Storm explained, studying him with unreadable white eyes. "Is something the matter?" She asked. He looked ... bothered.

Wolverine was quick to throw up his guards, cutting the telepaths off of the feed. Images of the prison flashed before his eyes, the dirty stone, the sticky puddle, the decayed corpse in the cell, the close, hot breath of Jubilee in his ear. He shut his eyes tightly, wishing the haunting ghost images away. He was thankful they didn't see any that. He stood from his chair, excusing himself. He left out the back door, not bothering to turn on the porch light. He was swallowed by the darkness of night.

To any onlooker, it was obvious he had suffered a flashback. From what, they weren't sure.

~Did you feel that?~ Jean asked telepathically.

~Yes.~ Xavier responded.

~Yes.~ So did Psylocke. They turned to the rest of the mutants, who looked at them quizzically. They telepathically shared the emotions they had sensed from
Wolverine, cluing them in.

"He got that from eating angostura?" Storm was fascinated.

"Not the herb itself, but the bitter sensation." Xavier whispered low enough that Wolverine couldn't hear. He put a finger to his chin. "Judging by the strength of the emotions he emitted, it's safe to assume that this was a fresh wound."

Scott was quick to put two-and-two together. Wolverine had no recent emotional wounds. There was only once place where he could have obtained such an intense experience to cause that kind of a reaction from Wolverine.

"The prison."


---

At the Academy...


Emma watched Jubilee critically. She was looking much better now than when she had first returned to the Academy. Her skin was no longer thin and pale looking from starvation. Being in the sun had given her her color back, and then some. It seemed as if her skin glowed.

Jubilee also looked a little bigger, having put on a few pounds. Her face was no longer hollowed-out and sharp-edged, and her clothes no longer hung off of her already small frame. She hadn't been starved to any severe degree in the prison - but it was enough for Emma Frost to notice.

Even Monet and Paige noticed it, but not for what it actually was. They had complimented her for looking great. They had perceived the weight loss as a goal of Jubilee's and not an involuntary result of cruelty.

But Jubilee's physical state wasn't the reason why she was in the headmistress's office. It was her grades.

"I'm pleased to see you have picked up your grades. You'll pass all of your classes this term." She looked at the essays and raised an eyebrow, calculating in her head. "It is going to damage your GPA. But your grades are at passing level."

Jubilee let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, sorry about that." She said, thanking her lucky stars that she was passing. Then an aukward silence filled the room.

Rain pattered on the window sill, and the mantle clock on the shelf made a loud ticking noise, amplifying the silence. Jubilee bit her lower lip and looked down. Emma was giving her that look again - the look her mother had given her when she was disappointed. Speaking of her mother ...

"Hey, I, Uh-uhm." She thought about her next words, picking them carefully. "I kind of didn't tell you why my grades fell." She avoided looking at White Queen - she looked at everything else but her. The rug, the hanging plant, the pictures on the wall, the storm clouds outside the droplet-covered window. "I kept from telling you because, well, I felt ashamed."

"Ashamed? For what?"

"I don't know. For everything," Now she felt like she was going to cry. Dammit! It sounded great in her head, not emotional at all, but now that she was actually saying the words out loud, she was finding it hard not to tear up. When did she get to be so emotional? "I mean, I'm not stupid or anything, I know how to study. It's just, it's hard to study in class because I'm always falling asleep because I'm having these nightmares. And the nightmares are pretty bad, they make me sick and stuff, and yeah it was about the prison."

Emma nodded, then looked up at the ceiling as Jubilee continued.

"I mean, I'm not stressin' out over it while I'm awake. I barely even think about the prison anymore! It's ancient history. It's just the nightmares, and I felt - or feel - ashamed 'cause I should have been able to handle a few nightmares and not let it get to me so much. I'm not a little kid anymore and I should have told you in the first place and not kept it from you." She shrugged her shoulders.

Emma let out a relieved sigh of her own. "I'm glad you told me." She approached the short asian woman and put her hand on her shoulder. "You're a strong person. You overcame those who imprisoned you and you'll overcome these nightmares. I can enter this into your file. I think Xavier can keep this from affecting your GPA since this is a direct result of the mission he sent you and Wolverine on."

Jubilee let out a genuine, happy smile. "Thank you!" She squeaked and hugged her headmistress tightly.

"I have to ask. What made you come forward?" She asked, receiving Jubilee's hug as if she were receiving a diseased slab of meat. The gesture was kind, but Emma wasn't a hug person, and preferred to stay that way. Jubilee broke away and looked at her feet.

"Would you believe me if I said my mother did?"

---

At the Mansion...

Wolverine sat on the stone steps outside, his head buried in his hands, concentrating on fighting the flashbacks. The bitter taste had brought back his buried ghosts, laying them out on a table in front of him in vivid clarity, like a series of video clips from a dirty movie.

She had flooded his senses that night. She moaned under his caresses, making music in his ears. He could still smell her on his fingers from the first foreplay. She had tasted delicious that night, her skin flushed and hot and tasting of honey. She had felt even better than she tasted - his hands running up and down her sides, occasionally rubbing so low that he would stop to stroke her sex.

It was a movie he didn't want to see. A movie he never wanted to participate in. A movie he wanted to forget - but God in heaven knew that he couldn't do it. Why couldn't the world let him forget?

The things she did to him, and the things he did to her, confused his mind and body. His mind was saying the exact opposite of what his body did - he didn't want to touch her and he didn't want to be touched. But his body demanded more.

The desire to fight it and the desire to mate had been battling for dominance. In the end his rational, logical side had lost the fight to the lust that was brought on by a lichen.

The rain cascaded over his body, soothing him. Though it was cold, and it helped contrast the heat of the memories that plagued him. It helped remind him that the prison was the past, not the present.

The images began to fade away from him, and he wondered if Jubilee had the same problem. Did she see the horros of what happened back in the Prison as flashbacks or nightmares, like he did? He should call her. Just to check in on how she was doing.

He heard Jean approach from behind him.

"Ya have something to say, Jeannie?" He intended to say it in a rude tone - a tone that meant that he didn't want her there watching him and assessing his damage. That he didn't care about her opinions and that he wanted her to leave and keep her thoughts to herself. But his tone came out as being inquisitive and gentle instead, which was the tone he gave her most of the time. He winced.

"No." Her response surprised him, to say the least. "You were clear that you didn't want my help. I respect that."

"Thanks. I mean it." So why are you out here, red? He wanted to ask, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to be cruel, either. couldn't she just take the hint and leave without him being mean?

Jean folded her arms. "You've suffered a lot throughout your life, more than you ever deserved. I have to say, you have a gift for bouncing back."

He snorted. Did she have a point? If she did, he wished she would spit it out and get it over with. He wasn't in the most stable state of mind - he wasn't so sure he could keep his flashbacks to himself for much longer, and sharing flashbacks wasn't at all what he or Jubilee needed.

"But Jubilee doesn't have that gift. Her grades are falling, she has nightmares, and she is showing classic symptoms of depression. Don't you think that your witholding information could be harming her? We all know more happened at that prison than you let on."

Wolverine let out a humorless chuckle. "Like hell she doesn't. She doesn't need me to give you every tiny detail of what happened to us to recover from it. I've never seen a kid more determined to make a great life for herself. She doesn't let a few bad memories get in her way of happiness. Just let her be."

Jean listened to him, not believing. Yes, Jubilee was a remarkable girl, but even she had her limits on what she could take. Emma had called Xavier earlier and explained the situation to him. Jubilee's grades had slipped - they were getting better, but they were not ideal. She was also constantly tired -a sign of depression. She had also recently confided to Emma that she had nightmares, though the contents of the nightmares weren't revealed. What if this was only the beginning? What could she potentially do next? Lash out at someone? Lost control over her powers? Attempt suicide? Binge drink? Take drugs?

"I know you're worried for her, but you don't have to be. She'll be fine. To be honest I don't that anything could keep her down. Let her be." He picked himself off the steps and walked back into the house, past Jean. "If ya don't mind Jenanie, I'm done with chatting."

---

At the Academy...


Monet expertly peeled her orange with delicate, milk-chocolate colored fingers, listening to Paige read a paragraph from their geology textbook.

Everett watched her through the corner of his eyes, not paying attention to a thing Paige read. He entertained the thought of getting up and dragging Monet into the Danger Grotto, to show her the proper way of flirting, but he knew she would object to that simply because they had to finish studying first.

It was of Monet's opinion that her studies, her schooling - essentially her entire future - took priority over anyone else. Although Everett did not agree with her, and felt people came first above anything else, he respected that opinion.

~Thank you.~ He heard Monet mentally comment, smiling with her full lips. She put a slice of orange in her mouth with her delicate fingers. Everett watched her, spellbound by her every little thing.

He was amazed at all the little details her noticed about her, the little things that no one took notice of. Like how she peeled her orange compared to, say, how Paige peeled hers. How Monet moved her lips when speaking compared to everyone else. Monet seemed to do what everyone else did better.

He remembered one of his friends describing love that way - taking notice of the little things a person does - and loving that person all the more for possessing that trait. Like Monet's imperfection.

Everyone thought Monet was perfect - and for a time, Everett thought so, too. She had perfect hair, a perfect body, perfect powers, she knew just what to say at the right moment, had perfect grades ... except for one little thing that he noticed today. Both of her pinkie fingers were ever-so-slightly crooked - the last knuckle of each feminine pinkie finger was slightly turned inward, giving her fingers a very delicate, almost unnoticeable, crescent curve.

With that little imperfection, she was complete. And he knew then, oddly enough, that he loved her. Not because she had crooked pinkie fingers, but because he noticed that little thing that no one else could ever possibly notice, and he loved her more for it. He let out a love-sick sigh, and returned to his homework.

---

Jubilation Lee hadn't gone to study with the others. She found that she was better off studying in private since Everett and Monet always distracted her, but that wasn't exactly something she could simply explain to them without inciting a fight with Monet. So she never bothered to give them a reason. The others perceived her refusal to study with them as being snobbish, and left her alone.

She went into her room and pulled out her calendar. "Okay, math test. This thursday or friday?" She had to juggle her studying time. She prayed it was on friday! She had a test on thursday for another class. She shut her eyes, turned the page, made a wish, and opened her eyes. "Next Friday! Score!"

She then opened her math book and frowned, looking back at her calendar. Had she forgotten to write something for this month on the calendar? She had a strong feeling that she had. For one thing, the calendar looked very bare. Had she missed writing down a test date or some other important occurence? She scratched her head with her pencil. What could she be missing? It wasn't a school dance, no music concerts, no movie night... She pulled out old syllabus papers and glanced over them all. No, she didn't seem to be missing anything. "So why is it so royally freaking bare?"

She flipped her year calendar back to January, the beginning of the year. It was loaded with notes - Phone numbers, shopping lists, appointments, tests. "hmm." She turned each and every page, noticing a pattern her notes took every semester. She went through each month page by page. Each month was almost exactly the same, except that June was almost blank. A few days was documented, then nothing. The last note was on June 28th, reading in red letters 'Moscow with Wolvie.'

The rest of the days were blank. July was blank. August was blank. September was blank. The first week of October was also blank, when she was at the Mansion recovering. Then her notes picked back up. Phone numbers, shopping lists, tests.

Then it clicked. She flipped back again. She always wrote down her monthly cycle. Usually it landed on the ninth, tenth, or eleventh. She flipped back to June. Yup, there it was. Then she flipped to the blank page of July. She remembered she barely had one then - the stress, lack of water, and starvation was already taking its toll on her body by then. It had only lasted one day. Her body was in too much turmoil to worry about fertility.

She squinted her eyes, trying to recall. Did she have one in August and September? She couldn't remember. Her memory was fuzzy, more than likely because she hadn't been fed very often at that time. She only had a few handfuls of bread every other day or so. She only started getting fed sometime in September.

She didn't seem to have a cycle in August or September, but it would make sense if she didn't... though she had bled a little a few days after... after..."Oh just say it, Lee! It's not going to kill you. The night you were fed the lichen." There. She said it. Oddly enough, it wasn't as hard to say as she thought it would be.

But today was November fifteenth. What happened to October? .. And November, for that matter? Worry rolled in her stomach. She put her calendar down and padded downstairs rather quickly. She picked up the phone and dialed the phone number she knew by heart.

---

At the Mansion...

Psylocke answered the phone. "Xavier school for Higher Learning. Who is speaking?" She said with a clipped tone. She hoped it wasn't another crank call. For the last two weeks, a stupid male teenager had called repeatedly, asked to speak to one of the X-women, any X-woman would do, no one specific.

Then when he got one on the phone, he would proceed to ask them what their bra size was. It had grown very old very fast. Storm had brushed it off as stupid adolescent behavior and ignored it. Jean had been too forgiving to do anything, and Psylocke had been the only one who felt that her honor was at stake to let him continue this disrespect.

She had traced the call, found his run-down apartment, thoroughly intimidated him with her revealing costume, psi-blasted him, then left him in an empty bathtub. Jean hadn't been too thrilled to learn about it, but it did stop the phone calls. Storm, surprisingly enough, had thought it was hilarious.

"Betts? Can I talk to Beast?" The caller's voice wasn't a male teenager. It was a female, sounding worried and upset.

"Who is this?"

"It's Jubilee. Can I speak to Beast? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?" Psylocke rolled her eyes. Even over the phone, she managed to annoy her to no end. "Very well." She telepathically notified Beast he had a call waiting, then hung up the phone. Beast answered just a minute later.

"How may I be of assistance to you, Jubilation?" He asked in a friendly, pleasant tone. He glanced up at the clock with a frown. She had to call so late, didn't she? He figured it had to be important to be that rude, but then again Jubilee wasn't known for her manners. At least he would have an excuse to hang up before the call urned into an hour-long chatterbox.

"Hey Beast! I have a personal question for you."

"How straight forward! Is this a personal question about me or you? Concerning what?"

"About me. Kinda. Well... How long does someone go without...Er..."

"Yes?" He was growing impatient.

"I know it's normal not to have a period after starving, but when is it supposed to come back?"

Beast pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. A-ha! That's what was bothering her. So she wasn't there to just chat. Good. Even though they were friends, he wanted to go to bed. "I would imagine it should have come back by now. I assume you're taking the multivitamins I'm giving you? Have you gaining any weight at all?"

"Boy am I ever."

"Wait until the end of this month. If it doesn't come, give me a call and I'll prescribe some hormones that should help encourage menstruation."

"Thanks Beast! You're the best!" She hung up the phone, and Beast exhaled in relief. No hour-long chat. He could go to bed now.

---

At the Academy

Their study group over, their homework done, and it being well past midnight, Everett snuck out of the boy's dorm and made his way to Monet's room.

Everett took Monet down to the Danger Grotto, a large smile on his face. Monet, also smiling, followed after him. They both laughed and tried to quiet their giggles. It would do them no good if someone were to hear them and investigate.

They weren't allowed in the Danger Grotto without permission and without someone to look after them. It was thrilling to know they were breaking the rules.

Everett had simulated a camping spot that he had gone to many times as a child, and the area was so beautiful that he wanted to share it with Monet.

They were surrouonded by green deciduous trees, and the sunlight glinted through the green leaves, turning their surroundings into a hazy yellow. The wind carried pollen through the air, also carrying the scent of ripe apples with it. Monet's favorite.

"It's so beautiful here." She commented, smiling, appreciating its simple beauty. "Is this the woods?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"It's just a small park where I used to go camping. No wild animals except your camping neighbors." He answered, and Monet laughed. He rested his hands on her shoulders and pulled her down to the soft, wavy grass underneath them.

She stared at Everett for the longest time, soaking in his image. At first she had dated him just to get a rise out of Jubilee. But the longer she was around Everett, the more she appreciated him for who he was. He was intelligent, kind, witty, and incredibly handsome. The more she was with him she realized that she wanted to be around him more and more. He was perfect, just like she was, and he loved her. She had sensed it, but it wasn't through her telepathy - it was as if her soul, one day, gripped her by the heart and told her that he was the One.

"Everett?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to taste you."

Everett leaned in to kiss her gently. His hands rose to cup her face. She closed her eyes, and their lips met tenderly.

He wasn't a bad kisser at all, in fact he was better than anything Monet had experienced yet. But Everett needed practice, he knew that. He was more inexperienced than she was, but she didn't seem to mind at all. He was her soulmate. Nothing else mattered. She leaned into him suggestively, and he let her push him down on his back.

They unfastened each other's clothes. He moved her blouse away, exposing a dark nipple. He looked up at her then, and caught her smiling down at him. "Do you like what you see?" She asked through supple, teasing lips. He didn't need to answer, his erection doing the answering for him. She grinned. "There's more, if you'd like."

With a playful grin she rolled over, gently pulling him on top of her.

His hands reached her breasts. He rolled them gently underneath him, as if they were soft like dough. He closed his mouth over hers again, stifling her moan. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small square package. It was a condom, and Monet took it from him, grateful that he had remembered. She certainly hadn't, and she kicked herself for that. It would do her no good to end up pregnant. She slid the condom over his penis expertly. She had been to so many human sexuality classes that, although she had never fitted one for a partner, she was already a pro.

She sank back onto the soft grass, breasts and belly exposed, her skirt bundled at her waist. Everett followed her down. The simulated sun shone down on them, eminating warmth and welcome. The lapping water nearby made for perfect music.

The floating pollen in the air landed on her chocolate-colored body, giving her skin a gold-flecked appearance, as if gold had rained from the sky, adorning her. The pollen also landed on his skin, making him look like a king, dressed in nothing but gold, his like-adorned queen beneath him, smiling brightly, love rich in the dark pools of her eyes.

He slid between her legs as gently as he could. She was slippery as seaweed. She let out a pained grimace. It was her first time. But she didn't ask him to stop. It didn't hurt as bad as she thought it would, and she had always planned to lose her virginity to someone special on a special occasion. It seemed appropriate. And Everett was a very special boy, and she was in such a beautiful place.

"Ah!" Monet shouted ad Everett's breathing and rhythm increased, his jaw having gone slack with concentration. Monet moved beneath him, getting used to his rhythm, trying to match. The moment she orgasmed, her telepathy flared. It struck Everett, allowing him to feel all that she felt, increasing their sensation.

Her telepathy spread to all those awake currently, the only other person being Jubilee. It was a brief spasm of her powers that she quickly regained control over.

Everett collapsed beside her, gasping, tired from his ejaculation. "That was incredible! That telepathy thing?" He breathed. "I felt everything you felt!"

Monet let out a giddy giggle. "I didn't mean to." She covered her mouth as a dirty thought raced through her mind. "You don't think anyone else felt that, did you?"

Everett let out a nervous laugh, wapping his arms around her. "I hope not!" He said, then nuzzled her. "I love you."

Monet nuzzled him back, feeling as if everything in the world, for once, was right. "I love you, Everett Thomas."

---

Jubilee hung up the phone with Beast, not convinced at all that this was normal to starvation. She wondered why she bothered to even call him at all?

She bit her bottom lip, so much worry lurking in her stomach that she laid a hand over it. The more she thought about it, the more it sounded less like starvation and more like...like she...like she was...Everything seemed to fit into place suddenly. Her throwing up. Being emotional. The nausea. The sore breasts. It all fit. They had unprotected sex. It wasn't as if there was a condom in the cell when they were fed the lichen! "Oh god."

"Oh god." She repeated in a tiny voice, panicked. "Oh my god, oh my god! What am I gonna do?" She bit her thumb anxiously. She had to make sure. She had to make sure she wasn't panicking over nothing. Wouldn't it be great if her mind was just playing cruel tricks on her? Yeah, that was it, cruel tricks. It did that often enough.

Okay, calm down, Lee. Just go to a store, grab a test and do it. She thought to herself. Then when it shows negative you'll laugh over this. Right? Right. She headed for the door.

She paused just as she opened the front door, sensing Monet's presence in her mind. Sex. Passion. Lust. Satisfaction. Everett. Jubilee had no mental images, but the sensations were there - all Monet's experience flooded into her. Jubilee quickly threw up ever mental barrier she could, curling her lip in disgust as Monet's presence receded.

"Ugh!" She shouted, throwing herself out the front door. Monet and Everett. Together. And this was not just a fling - it was permenent. And Jubilee was taken along for the ride. "Okay, god, is it so frickin' hard to let me be happy! Like, can you not sucker-punch me at every chance you get?" Damn god and damn that Monet, that sleazy, rotten, plastic, back-stabbing... She shook her head, gritting her teeth. She couldn't think about that right now! She had something for more important to do! Get a test - How could this be happening to her?! - and get home! She shut the door behind her and ran off into the night.

---

Monet had dozed off, wrapped in Everett's warm embrace. In his arms she felt complete. Whole. He gently jostled her awake with his arms, like someone would a puppy. "Let's go. Before we get caught." He smiled down at her.

She pulled away from him, fastened her shirt, and smoothed out her skirt. He slid his pants on, making sure he hadn't left any incriminating evidence that they were there.

Everett walked to the door, ready to leave. He turned to look back at her. Her arms were folded, smiling up at the sky. "We should camp here sometime. In the real place. It's wondeful." She smiled back at him. He felt his heart skip a beat. Every time she gave him that smile he had the same reaction.

He flashed her his own heart-throbbing smile. "Anything you want, beautiful."

---

It was funny. At the 24-hour grocery, she was more aware of her surroundings now than when she ever was on a mission. She made sure no one was looking at her and made sure no one was nearby who she recognized. She could just image Emma or Monet spotting her in the pregnancy aisle. She almost hyperventalated at the thought.

If she felt sick for staring at the millions of pregnancy tests available in the aisle of the grocery, then she felt awful when she took one off the shelf. She ended up having to buy a bunch of other frivelous junk to calm herself down - but that made things worse, not better.

Now she eyed the cashier wickedly. He had better not say a word, she thought to herself, or he'll be on his way to Firework Flats. Really though, the worst thing he could do was glance up at her. And she didn't want him to do that, oh no. He would get a blinding paff for looking at her, too.

But he didn't. He kept his eyes down, her having been his thousandth customer for the day. Frankly, he couldn't care what she bought - his shift was almost over and all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed and wish he never existed, much the same way Jubilee was feeling.

She asked him to double-bag it, that way no one at the Academy could see its label through the plastic, should anyone be awake. He double bagged it expertly. She gave him the money and ran out of the store, thanking god that no one recognized her buying such a scandelous little thing.

When she got home late that night, she snuck in through the window and crept upstairs, careful not to let anyone notice anything was amiss. Then she locked herself in the bathroom door.

There, she made it. Oddly enough, she didn't feel as great as she thought she would when she reached the bathroom. Her hands still shook so badly that she couldn't open the box in a dignified manner. Even though she knew she was alone, she ended up ripping it open down the side, its contents falling to the floor.

Crud, can't stop shaking, she picked up the stick. She glanced down at the dropper, all of this feeling terribly improper. She wanted to just throw the kit in the trash and paff the trash can, but she needed to know.

"Okay," She read the instructions out loud. "Wait until morning to ..." She threw the instructions away, frustrated. "Forget it! I can't wait that long! The sooner I know I'm not ... not..." she couldn't say the word. It was too horrible to mention. But she was alone in the bathroom, so she didn't need to say it. "The sooner I know I'm not, the better."


---

Everett had shut down the program, promising Monet that he would recreate it for her another time. He took her hand into his and led her back to her room, passing the bathroom on their way, never knowing what miserable soul lurked in the darkness there.

In the bathroom, the test had been abandoned on the floor, and Jubilee sat curled next to the toilet, still as a stone statue, arms wrapped around her lower stomach. She had accidentally lost control over her powers for just a split second, shattering the light bulb above her.

Now she sat curled up in the dark, her mind blank. A tremor ran down her throat as she swallowed. Her upper lip had gone moist, and her eyes misted over, stinging. She couldn't believe it. The test had to be wrong. It had to. No one could be this unlucky. No one. Not even that mutant who had the power of being unlucky who died two years ago by, not surprisingly, a string of bad luck. Dammit, she should have bought two tests.

She looked down at the test that laid abandoned on the floor. She reached over and picked it up again, barely able to see in the darkness, hoping that her eyes had played a cruel trick on her, or maybe it would suddenly have a negative sign instead of a positive sign.

Even in the dark, she could see a big, huge, bright blue positive sign. She laid it back down, her lower lip quivering. She covered her face with her hands, a lonely question playing on her tongue. "What am I going to do?"