On The Rocks

One week later ...


Wolverine was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, deep in thought. He had felt strange for an entire week and wondered why. It was hard to describe. Ever since he and Jubilee started getting fed daily, he simply felt 'off,' like he wasn't exactly himself, even though nothing was wrong with him.

Jubilee certainly wasn't acting herself, although she didn't take notice. It was a subtle change in behavior. She was more emotional and more sensitive. He figured at first that the death of the prisoner had something to do with it.

But that didn't explain why he too didn't feel quite right. It was a strange feeling, indescribable. It certainly wasn't life-threatening, but it gave him something to think about. It was a fascinating puzzle. Was it something in the food? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

---

The Massachusetts Academy...

Emma Frost rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. "Paige, the Xmen have already sent a search party for Jubilee and Wolverine," she said his name as if it was the name of a disease. "There's no need to send another. I'm as concerned as you are for Jubilee. But I'm confident Xavier will find them." She struggled over her sentence as if she had recited them and didn't believe a word of it.

"Right." Paige frowned and left the room, playing with her necklace as she shut the door to the Headmistress's office. 'If you're so confident in the search party, then why are you always scowling?' she thought to herself.

"Paige!" Everett ran up to her with a grin. "Miss me?" He said, then gave her a massive hug, the kind of hug friends give when they haven't seen each other in three months.

"Of course I did, Ev! Did you enjoy your summer?" She laughed, her gloomy thoughts temporarily wiped away. She gasped for air, making him let go.

"Yeah. I had a great summer! Missed the team, though. Hey, have you seen Jubilee and Monet? I can't find either of them."

A shadow crossed over her eyes for a split second. She didn't answer. Everett caught on to her silence, and his expression quickly changed to match hers. "What is it?" Worry for his girlfriend rose in the pit of his stomach, small and painful like a weed. "Where's Monet?"

She regained her smile, sliding on a mask of cheerfulness. "Oh, Monet's fine! She's around here somewhere. You know you can just mentally call for her, she's a telepath, remember?" She didn't need to tell Everett Jubilee was missing. That was Emma and Sean's duty as team leaders, and she would leave the responsibility to them.

He clapped her on the shoulder with a laugh and descended down the hall. "Right. See you in class tomorrow!" He made the peace sign as Paige slowly walked the other way. Emma could still feel the worry in her star pupil, and interjected comforting words into Paige. ~Thank you for your discretion. And she'll be fine, Paige. She'll be fine.~


---


The prison


When Indah opened the grate, she made her usual greeting. "Hello Lovelies! Here is your food!" She lowered the food, the typical slab of meat, two loaves of bread, milk and honey. "Do you need anything else?"

Wolverine shouted up to her. "Fruit!"

Indah looked at him as if he were crazy. "Fruit? You need fruit? Why?"

"Scurvy! We'll get sick if we don't get vitamin C! Do you have any fruit?"

Indah nodded. "You like apples? We have apples. I'll get you two tomorrow!" She scurried off.

"Wolvie," Jubilee said, taking tiny bite-sized portions of the meat, "does this meat taste funny?"

"We ain't in the position to critique the food we get, Jubilee." he commented, then took a bite. It tasted like acid in his mouth, bitter. "It does taste bitter."

He concentrated on the taste, trying to assess what it was. Without his heightened sense of smell, his sense of taste was almost worthless. There was no way to tell what that odd taste was. "It's not bad meat. Maybe it's a spice."

Jubilee tasted the bread. It too tasted bitter. "The bread is bad, too. Is it poison?" But why go through all the trouble of poisoning someone when you could starve them to death? Or shoot them? And that went against what Lady Yvanka had agreed.

"Not poison," he said, certain. It tasted almost like a rare, poisonous mushroom he ate once. He had a healing factor then, so he was lucky he didn't die. Instead, he had crippling stomach cramps for days. "I think it's a lichen."

Didn't Rooter say something about the lichens here? What was it about them again? He remembered not caring about the lichens - the mushrooms were his interest. Damn, he should have paid more attention.

"A lichen? I never tasted one of those before." She didn't eat the bread, or the rest of her meat, for that matter. The bitter taste was too strong, and her instincts told her not to eat any of it. Wolverine, too, abandoned the meat and bread, his instincts saying the same. They ingested only a small amount. A small amount wouldn't kill them, right?

She dipped her finger in the honey and tasted it. "The honey is still sweet. It doesn't have that stuff in it."

He tasted the milk. That was safe, too. They both shared the milk, drinking slowly. They saved the honey for last, per tradition.

Having no utinsels, They both had been messy. Wolverine got honey on his hands, and Jubilee got honey on her chin and neck. She was about to wipe it off when he grabbed her hand to stop her. She looked up at him questioningly. She took notice that his pupils were abnormally huge. Perhaps it was the dark? Maybe his eyes adjusted after being here for so long?

But she could also see in the dark a little better, too. Were hers big like that, too? "Uh," she breathed, feeling light-headed. He always did have beautiful eyes. Why did it take her until now to notice? He moved away for just a moment, a fleeting expression of surprise and disgust slick across his face.

Then he leaned in slowly and gently pressed his mouth to her chin, licking up the sweet honey. She almost pulled away in shock, but something inside her kept her still. She felt different - and clearly so did Wolverine.

Her mouth opened, half from breathlessness, the other half questioning. Her body felt hot all over, as if someone had turned up a thermostat in her cell.

"Wolverine," She said just as he closed his mouth over hers. A shock of electricity moved from her lips and shot down her back, spreading across her body at his kiss. It came as a sudden surprise. It was a surprise she didn't fight. His face was delightfully rough, his stubble scratching her delicate skin. She heard his breaths deepen; his chest expanded farther, breathing heavier and quicker.

He trailed kisses down her chin where droplets of honey remained on her neck. She leaned her head back and moaned. "I think," he said between kisses, "th- they d-drugged us-"

Jubilee and honey was a delectible mix. Her taste on his tongue and her breath on his ear sent him into a dazzling haze. He was almost too breathless to speak. He felt Jubilee's hand run down his stomach to the firm mound between his thighs. "-Ohh," He breathed heavily, partly because he felt as if he could never get enough oxygen, and the other part was arousal.

"The lichen?" Jubilee put two and two together, then shivered as his hands ran down her sides. He had a very gentle, experienced touch, just as she had imagined it would be. Every time their skin made contact, it sent electricity through her body.

She licked off the honey he had spilled on his hand, right over the area his claws emerged. He could kill her right there, just by unsheathing those razor-sharp blades. But he would never and could never harm her in that manner, so she let her face hover over his hand, licking off the honey, thrilled at the potentially fatal position. She then let his hands fall, and he gently slid them up her body and underneath her shirt. "Ah!"

Wolverine pressed his hands against her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples gently. They continued their caresses, exploring each other's bodies, trying to stop but being unable to.

"Logan," She said, not wanting to talk any more, only act, but knowing she had to speak. He lifted her over him. He leaned back on his heels, bringing her down on his growing erection, grinding her against him. He was hard as a brass rod. He made a low growl, then nipped at her neck. "I love you," she gasped, burying her hands in his raven-black, soft hair, "but not like this."

He never stopped kissing her. He showered her in them, little acts of affection, covering her body with them. "-I know, I love you," He gasped as her hand trailed down his hairy chest, scratching his skin lightly with her nails. "You're my lifeline, but you're also my family..."

She unbuttoned his dirty jeans, and he slid off her shirt. He leaned into her, his weight trapping her underneath him.

"You're my..." She swallowed and closed her eyes as he found her right nipple and ran his tongue over it, then closed his mouth over it. "...mentor..." He did the same with the left nipple. "... my friend."

"So..." She asked as her pants were slid off, Logan putting one heavily muscled arm across her chest to keep her still as he undressed her. He didn't need his heightened senses to smell that she was aroused. It was the musky, sweet smell of a woman. His pants and shirt were abandoned between caresses and kisses, touches of affection and hot breaths. "...w-why cc-cant w-we s-s-stop?"

He kept her pinned underneath him, using his adamantium-laced weight to keep her immobile. Knowing she was helpless underneath him gave him a primal thrill. He would never harm her, or put her in the position to desire escape, but it fed the animal desire lurking within. To be able to overpower and lay claim to the most expensive of treasures was intoxicating.

He glanced down at her naked body. She had a well-defined body, living the life as an X-man making sure she was fit. She had graceful, strong bones, and aside from being slightly emaciated, she looked healthy, skin aglow with youth and vitality. She grew up alongside him, traveled with him, and fought alongside him. "You're beautiful."

"I don't want to do this..." They both said in unison, both in disgust and passion, both understanding what each other meant. They weren't lovers - they were each others' saviors, both eternally linked by mutual love. They saved each other's lives more than they could count. She was his salvation. He was hers. But they weren't, and could never be, lovers.

His hands locked into her hair. This isn't right, a part of his mind said. His body ignored him, acting on its own accord. His sanity had left once he ate the food, and by the animalistic look he was getting from Jubilee, the same happened with her. He didn't want to make her wait any longer. He closed his mouth over hers, and entered roughly.

"Mmph!" He thrust into her violently, the sensation of him making her shriek in surprise and pleasure. She could see sparks in her closed eyelids. He groaned, the months of celibacy having worn down his reserve and making his contact with Jubilee all the more intense. He slammed her against the wall roughly. "Ungh!" She grunted, bucking under him. He bit her shoulder until he tasted her blood in his mouth. She dug her nails into his back.

Each thrust knocked her against the gritty stone wall. It didn't give to pressure like a bed did. Each thrust sent him a little deeper inside her, and a little closer to euphoria. They moaned together, their voices rising with each thrust, matching each other, pitch for pitch. Their bodies worked like a well-constructed choir, making heavenly music.

Aroused as she was through the drugged food, it didn't take more than two dozen thrusts before her heart began to pound in her ears, her body flushing red, her orgasm not far away. She bit him on the neck as he did her, burying her teeth into his skin. She too tasted blood, and wanted more.

He felt her muscles contract around his penis, gripping and releasing. Her orgasm demanded his, and his body responded. He could feel his release coming on, like an unstoppable pressure. His orgasm was powerful and full of need. His claws burst through his hands, embedding themselves into the stone beside her head. His muscles tensed for a moment, then his body began to shiver as he spilled his seed. Through the fog of the drug, a sentence ran in his mind, barely noticeable. Protection, you need protection. Too late for that, and too drugged to care, the message slipped away and was forgotten.

He exhaled as all tension drained away. His claws retracted into his forearm, and he pulled her away from the wall. He fell back into the puddle, her on top of him.

His body felt heavy and satisfied. Jubilee was breathing heavily, also satisfied and limp. Their eyes began to droop, lids gone heavy with sleep. He heard her sigh genty, and watched as her eyes slowly closed. He let his eyes close, letting the darkness claim him.

---

He hadn't slept for very long, perhaps an hour, not much longer. The drug was still running strong through his veins, sending a burning sensation throughout his body, every inch of him, as if his heart didn't beat blood at all but molten, liquid lava.

He awoke with Jubilee resting naked beside him, her arm wrapped around him, her hand curled underneath his chin. She was hot to the touch, just as he was.

He had been satisfied earlier. But the desire had grown back, not so strong, not so needful, but still there, demanding the thirst be quenched. He rolled over gently, cushioning her bruised back undeneath his hands. He kissed her on the neck and worked his way down, and she stirred, waking up slowly.

Her arms raised to caress him. She ran her hands over his biceps, up his shoulders and neck, cupping his face. She couldn't even see him in the darkness, having just been aroused from her shallow sleep. She felt a drop of his pre-cum land on her inner thigh.

Be gentle, that little voice in Wolverine's head said, so quiet compared to the lichen's rushing pulse in his ears. He had been too rough with her earlier. That was her first time and the first time always hurt. He would be very gentle, this time. She moaned softly as he entered her slowly in the dark, taking his time with her.

Their bodies rose and fell repeatedly, like the rising and setting of the sun. Jubilee lifted herself from underneath him with her arms. He leaned back, letting her take control, letting her be the one on top and the one to decide how deep and how fast they moved.

She moved above him, rocking back and forth, their movements fluid and graceful as any waltz, all the while his hands roamed her body, gently caressing and petting, causing her body to tremble in pleasure, like touching a taught violin string. She moaned at his careful touches, making music to his ears.

He squirmed underneath her, trying to control the desire to ruin the dance by finishing too soon.

Her skin felt like it was on fire. His skin was as hot as hers, red and feeling scorched, as if she was the demoness and he was the demon. She took his hands into hers and spread his arms above his head, the movement reminiscent of spreading wings.

They rose again, their heartbeats increasing. "Oohh," She moaned. He put his hands on her hips, pressing into her as deep as she would allow him. Her muscles clenched around him, milking him. Again, his claws erupted from his hands as every muscle spasmed with his release.

The two fell to the stone floor once more, exhausted, their dance crumpled. They held onto each other's hands as their eyes drooped again, the lichen and post-coital fog robbing them of reality, whisking them away into the fickle world of dreams.

---

In the sewers...


"The sewers down here are incredible," Scott said, wrinkling his nose.

"I full-heartedy concur, in smell and in complex design." Beast replied, grimacing at the stench. "Remind me again what made you think of looking in the sewer tunnels rather than the train station tunnels?"

"The way those claw marks were positioned back there suggest he went this way. They were shallow and were on both sides of the walls. The lower claw mark was the most shallow of the three. That would suggest he was running forward and scraping his claws along the way."

Beast raised his brows, realization donning on him. Of course! He should have caught onto that himself. Why didn't he notice something that obvious? 'It appears, dear boy,' Beast thought to himself, 'that the concentrated methane vapors of this place has irradiated your mind.'

"Look!" Scott pointed to a part of the wall that had looked as if someone had shot fireworks off of it. "Jubilee's calling card. They were definately here."

Excited at finding a clue, they ran further into the darker tunnel. Splish-splash, their heavy footsteps caused echoes through the massive tunnel system and kicked up all sorts of muck as they went. They slid to a stop as they reached a T section.

"So... right or left?"


---


The prison

She didn't remember getting dressed, but when she awoke (which was something she would have rather avoided), every article of clothing was in place, just as it should have been. At first, she hoped what happened earlier was a freakish dream. Then a wave of pain hit her. She hurt everywhere. Her head was pounding and she felt dizzy, as if the lichen hadn't fully worn off. There were sore spots on her shoulder blades and back of her head, where she had been shoved against the stone wall repeatedly. Her shoulder hurt the worst by far. She had four puncture wounds from Wolverine's canine teeth when he bit her. Between her legs she felt used, slippery and sticky.

"Ow," she mumbled quietly, shifting. She stole a glance at Wolverine, who rested stiffly against a different wall, careful to keep his back from touching anything. She had raked him with her nails, she remembered. She also bit him, hard. She could see the red mark on his neck, and knew it all wasn't a bad dream at all, but cold, stark reality. She leaned against the wall opposite of him and grimaced, her body complaining with each movement she made.

Wolverine cracked open one tired eye. His head was swimming still, causing him extreme nausea whenever he moved. Without a healing factor, his back hadn't healed yet, and that was sore from Jubilee's nails, and his neck hurt from her bite. He imagined she was in much more pain than he was, however. He felt an entirely different stab of pain hit, deep in the heart. Guilt and shame washed over him when he saw her grimace as she leaned against the wall. Christ, even if he was under the influence, how could he do this to her? And what would he do to Lady Yvanka when he escaped? The possibilities were mind-blowing.

He struggled to form coherent words, the lichen's drug still in his system. "saddle-sore?" he asked, and Jubilee nodded.

"A little," she said despite the pounding in her head. She was tired - so incredibly tired.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say, his words full of sorrow, "I'm sorry." He drawled before drifing back to sleep.

She fought her tears away, biting her lower lip, trying to prevent a shame-filled pout that threatened to wash over her face. "I'm sorry, too."

---