OOC: Log Dump
2/2/2007
=NYC= Apt 1400 |Jubilee and Rogue| - Greenwich Apartments - Greenwich Village
Knock, knock, knock. There's a rather loud, enthusastic and insistant knocking on Jubilee's door. On the other side, stands Wesley, wide grin across his face, peering at the peephole, head bobbing up and down as he tries to see inside through the distorted lense.
Suddenly, there is a large eyeball peering back at him. Hello! Jubilee blinks and pulls away from the peephole, then unlocks and opens the door a crack. "Oh. Hi!" The door shuts, chains are removed, and the door reopens to let him in. She steps back and leans against the door's edge and smiles. "Hey you. Whatcha doin' here?"
Wesley leans in for a quick kiss before giving her a nudge and the instruction, "Grab your coat. We're going to dinner."
"Um. Okay? Any special reason?" She eyes him curiously and straightens slowly, turning around and moving in toward her bedroom.
"/Kind/a," Wesley calls after her, evading for the moment.
Jubilee looks back over her shoulder, and disappears into the bedroom. It actually takes her a good deal longer than simply grabbing a coat should, but eventually, she reappears, holding her coat out. "Help me put it on?" she asks, handing it over and turning around, holding her arms out low and behind her. "What's goin' on? You look like you're 'bout ta bust."
Wesley takes the coat, holding it while she slips the first arm in, before leaning in close to her ear. "I'm in," he whispers gleefully.
Jubilee finds the other arm with her hand and starts to shrug it up. That whisper widens her eyes and she spins around and claps once. "/Really/? Ee! Wes!" She pushes up on tiptoe and throws her arms around his neck, bouncing against him lightly. "I knew you'd do great!"
Wesley wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. "Thanks. Been getting ready for so long, it's kinda hard to believe it's actually over. And now just waiting. But not thinking about that part," he says, pausing for a kiss. "Tonight, we're celebrating!"
"They won't keep you waitin' long. You're just too perfect for 'em," Jubilee murmurs against his lips, then returns the kiss with congratulatory gusto. "Okay! So where ya wanna go?" she says a moment later, pulling back and dropping her arms. A flicker of discomfort passes her face, but she moves to step past him for the door.
"Somewhere different," Wesley decides, ushering her toward the door. "How about Indian? There's this place that looks pretty nice a few blocks over. Someone I work with recommended it."
Jubilee stops at the door and waits for him to exit before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind them and locking it. She pockets the key and wraps her hand into his. "Ok. Whatever you want tonight. Tonight we're celebratin'" she echoes, screwing up her face into a grin.
"Yes, we celebrate." Outside, the wind is hard and bitterly cold, so Wesley leads them along quickly, not allowing much conversation along the way. Several minutes later, though, they duck inside, cheeks bright with cold. "Two," he informs the wait staff, shrugging off his coat and reaching to assist Jubilee.
Jubilee unbottons her coat and slides it off into Wesley's hands, then lifts her hands to her mouth and blows on them as she weaves her way behind the waiter on the way to their table. "Smells kinda funky," she comments quietly to Wesley with a grin.
"It's supposed to," Wesley grins back, settling into his chair. "So...uh, there's kinda another reason I picked this place," he says, dropping his voice so it won't carry past their table.
Jubilee leans forward on her elbows and lifts a brow. Her fingers move incessentially, fidgeting with the sugar bin, the spinny rack of condiments, the salt shaker. That one get's it's lid unscrewed and salt spilled across the table. "Un-huh?"
"Would you...freak out if I got us a bottle of wine?"
"Huh?" Her expression is pricelss. Then she leans forward a little and kind of cranes her head to peer up at him. "Dude. They won't card ya here?"
"I think we can get away with it," Wesley leans back in his chair, looking across the table at her with a crooked smile, before reaching for the wine menu. "'Sides. We're celebrating. And it's only a few more months anyways."
Jubilee says, "Um. Okay. Sure!" Sounds like fun, yeah? "Do you /know/ anythin' about wine?"""
"Um. Okay. Sure!" Sounds like fun, yeah? "Do you /know/ anythin' about wine?"
"Do /I/ know anything about wine. Have a little faith," Wesley says, peering over the menu and examining it. His eyes widen a bit at the long list of choices. And the prices. Still, when the waiter returns this way, he reads off a choice, at least /sounding/ sure of the pronounciation. "We're celebrating tonight," he explains, at which the waiter gives a half smile and nod before heading off, no questions asked.
Jubilee is impressed. She hands over her menu and folds her arms on the table again, her right fingers drumming a steady beat underneath her left arm. "So what'd you order?"
"Haven't a clue," Wesley chuckles. "But it was in the Chilian section, and everyone /says/ those are supposed to be pretty good. Just don't order fish. Cuz /everyone/ knows you need white wine with fish, and I think this one was a red."
"I've got no idea what I'm orderin'. I think I'm just gonna close my eyes and point." Jubilee quiets and props her chin up in a hand, staring at him thoughtfully.
"Don't do that," Wesley says hastily. "Unless you want your mouth to be burning for the next week. Tell you what, I'll order for both of us."
She shrugs and agrees easily. "Ok."
Wesley takes a few minutes to look over the menu, before flagging their waiter down, and rattling off two different choices and an order of nan. "Not too spicy, I don't think, but if you don't like it, I'll swap you. They both sounded good."
"So... what happens now? Do they train ya, or wait until they call you up or...?" Jubilee reaches out again for the salt shaker, turning it on it's edge and rolling it around the table.
"Wait. More waiting," Wesley sighs, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. "Don't do any training until they call me. Whenever they decide they need me. But I'm /on the list/. Still a lot of people ahead of me on it, but that's the important part, right?"
"Sure is. You made it. Just a matter of when, not if any more," Jubilee answers emphatically, leaning back as the wine is delivered to the table, along with two glasses. She hesitates to touch the glass until the waiter has left, still expecting to get asked for ID.
Wesley has no such reservations, reaching for his glass, and lifting it her way. "Cheers. All our dreams coming true, right?"
"What other dreams have you got comin' true?" Jubilee asks with grin, lifting her glass for the wine, then tapping the sides together.
Wesley grins at her, waiting to answer until he takes a sip of the drink, admirably keeping a level face at the first taste. "What else could I want. You, me, here tonight. And I get to be a firefighter. Seems pretty good to me. How about you?"
Jubilee is not quite so composed. Her nose wrinkles and she blecks and looks into the wine's depths. "God... This stuff is supposed to be /good/?" Down the glass goes, but she keeps it within reach, even spinning the stem between her fingers. "I dunno. Don't really spend a lot o' time thinkin' about the future if I don't have to. Things have never turned out like I woulda imagined, so I sorta stopped thinkin' about it. Ya know?"
"Eh, I guess you get used to it," Wesley says, grinning at her expression. "But yeah, I guess it's sure not like I'd've thought. Then again, something I thought was the worst thing to happen ever...well, kinda turned out good. I wouldn't have ever met /you/."
Jubilee blinks at the unusual sentimentality and colors a little, taking another sip of wine to cover her confusion. "I'm just glad you're gettin' ta do somethin' ya want to do."
"Yeah, well, I'm just glad I get to share it with you," Wesley says, tipping his glass back for a longer sip. "Celebrating alone wouldn't be nearly as much fun. And 'sides, you helped make sure I knew everything I needed to pass," he adds with a wink.
/That/ makes Jubilee blush harder, but she grins at him over the top of the class. "Too bad /my/ finals are still couple months away."
"Of course, that means that /I'll/ get to make the rules then," Wesley says, trying to fight the smirk from spreading too far across his face. Their bread arrives at that moment, with a variety of sauces accompanying it. "This stuff is really good," he says pushing the basket of flatbread toward her.
Jubilee hooks a finger in and pulls the basket close to fish out a piece. She sniffs it warily, then nibbles a corner. "Says who? Hnh." She takes a bigger bite. "Is pretty good."
"Says me," Wesley says, snatching up a piece of his own, and taking the tiny spoon to dribble some green sauce over it. "Of course, since we're celebrating tonight, we could probably skip the studying part altogether."
Jubilee stops chewing in favor of simple staring across the table at him. "I... uh. Um." Cue another lift of the wine glass, and a choke-inducing swallow. She curves over the table and wheezes her breath back under control before peeking back up at him. "I...ie... Uh. Yeah. We could."
Wesley tips back the last of his glass, reaching for the bottle to refill both their glasses. "Man, I'm sorry. Just realized I've been talking about me all night. How's your day been?"
Jubilee doesn't even notice the refill. "Uh. That's... Because we're celebratin' /your/ news. Nothin' happened today worth talkin' about. Went to class, went to work, came home." Finally! Their food arrives!
"Yeah, well, much as I like to talk about /myself/..." Wesley rolls his eyes, but the comment is unfinished by the sudden presence of food. He takes a large scoop of rice to his plate, then passes the spoon her way. "Now /this/ is celebration food."
Jubilee helps herself to the food, following Wesley's example, though a bit more warily. "If you say so," she says before taking a cautious bite. Hm. Well. It's not greasy or deep fried, but it's edible. Sort of.
Wesley looks at her expectantly. "Well, what do you think? Nice to have something different for a change?" He ladels some of his curry over the rice, then takes a big forkful.
"It's... interesting," she answers non-committally, spooning a bite into her mouth to demonstrate her appreciation. It is a little forced. "Kinda not /real/ hungry," she admits in explanation for her lack of enthusiasm. She reaches for the wine glance and chokes down another sip to wash the taste out of her mouth.
"Eh. Want to try mine instead?" he asks, giving his plate a nudge her way. "I should have called earlier. Let you know, but I just wanted to show up and surprise you."
Jubilee pushes her plate forward a little and folds her arms on the table with a shake of her head. "Nah. Don't think it's the food. Think it's probably just me. You can have some of this if you want?" She smiles at the rest of his words and replies, "I'm glad you did. S'nice."
"Just don't know what do do with myself now," Wesley says, between bites. "It's such a relief to be done, and now I don't have to worry about studying and all that. So much more time now."
"You should find a hobby."
"Like what?"
Jubilee shrugs and /tries/ to hide the grin. "I dunno. Underwater basket weaving?"
Wesley snorts. "Way too easy. Dunno, I guess the gym is a hobby, now that I won't have to be there."
"You won't? You mean they don't take wimpy test-takers, but after that they don't care?" she teases./
"Hey, I didn't say I was going to /give it up/," Wesley protests. "Just that I didn't hafta. Or at least not, like, every day."
"/Riiiight/," she drawls.
"Maybe I kinda like it now," Wesley shrugs. "And that's what makes it a hobby, right? And there's no reading or homework involved."
Jubilee frowns and leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest with a snort. "Yeah. Lucky you," she grumbles with a touch of envy.
"Eh, you're much better at that than me anyways. And who knows, you might be graduated and have your first real job before they call me anyways."
"Yeah, right." Jubilee squirms again in her seat and lifts her foot to find Wes' knee, then props it up on top. The plate is pushed decidedly aside, and the glass pulled close to twirl between her two index fingers. "They're not gonna wait long, and then you'll be out fightin' fires and riskin' your life and doin' exactly what you want to do."
Wesley grins as the foot finds its target. "Well, some people end up waiting a couple of years. Hoping it won't be that long. Not that don't /loooove/ working at Staples, but..."
"The uniform's a turn on," she shoots back, making a face at him across the table.
"Well, red /is/ my color," Wesley agrees, then makes a bit more of a dent in his plate. "Kinda wonder if I'll ever get to use...y'know."
"I thought you told 'em? Why wouldn't you get to?"
"No, I told /one/ of them," Wesley says, setting the fork aside and reaching for his glass. "Can't wait to tell him the good news. Guess I'll see what he has to say about everything."
Jubilee grunts and lifts the glass to her lips too. "You know, this stuff's only /really/ bad for the first couple sips."
"Sorta makes you shudder a bit for those, huh?" Wesley admits as well. "Kinda makes you forget how cold it is outside, though. Drink up, though. Paid for the whole bottle, so we might as well drink it all."
Jubilee's foot slips sideways, perhaps emboldened by the second (third?) glass. She tackles another sip and sets the glass down with a sharp tink and pushes her sleeves up her arms. "It's not cold in /here/ though."
Wesley again refills their glasses, letting the last drops fall from the bottle before setting it aside. "So what are we gonna do this weekend?"
"/I've/ got a paper to write for comp. The prof's cute, but kinda a bear." The foot presses and she singsongs, "I don't know what /you're/ gonna do."
"I could /help/ you write your paper." Wesley offers with a grin. "Should I be jealous of this teacher?"
"Sure. I mean, he's pretty hot. For like... an old guy."
Wesley slips a hand under the table, one of the fingers working its way between the shoe and running along the side of her foot. "So let's see, what kind of rules can I make up for paper writing? How about for every paragraph..." he trails off, letting her fill in the blank.
Jubilee grins. "Gettin' a little ahead of yourself, aren't ya? I mean, there's still three days to go before I start writing. 'sides, I do actually have to /write/ it."
"Oh, I know. I'll just...help," Wesley declares.
A permanent stain appears to have settled in across Jubilee's nose and cheeks, and she arches her foot into the contact. "Yeah. Help distract me."
"You have to admit," Wesley says, looking right at her. "I'm pretty good at it."
Jubilee blinks and squeaks her fingers on the bowl of the wine glass. "I don't know. I guess you could use some more practice," she whispers.
"Okay," Wesley says, more than amiable to the suggestion. "Howsabout I get the check, and since you're not starting on your paper for three days, we get started on that practice?"
Jubilee drains the last of the wine from her glass and pulls her foot out of his lap. "Okay," she wheezes, as much from the wine as general confusion. She stands and tugs her coat from the back of her chair.
Wesley downs the last of his, handing his debit card to the passing waiter, and starting to get his coat on while he waits to sign the bill. A quick scribble later, he pockets the card, and reaches for Jubilee's hand.
It's ready for him. She slides her hand into his and twists her arm behind her back, leading him out of the restaurant and back out into the cold air. "Rogue's workin' tonight," she offers in an attempt at nonchalance.
"Good. Didn't feel like going all the way back to my place right now anyways." Once outside, Wesley drops her hand in favor of placing an arm around her shoulders. "I wish it would snow already. That would make today just perfect."
Jubilee tucks her hand into his pocket and bounces lightly against him as they walk. "Bet it's snowin' out at the mansion." Wether it's from the way they are walking or from the wine, Jubilee's steps are a little meandery.
Wesley's steps aren't all that certain either. But they are eager, oh yes. He leads them along at a quick pace. "If not, I bet we could convince a certain someone to make sure it did," he adds. "Though tonight I'm more in the mood for just watching it fall, instead of a snowball fight."
"Me too," Jubilee echoes emphatically, turning more of her concentration on her feet than their conversation. It doesn't take long to reach the apartment again, and shortly they are inside. "Uh... want somethin' ta drink? I could make hot chocolate... Er."
Wesley's response is to dump his coat, reaching to pull her close to him. "I'm good, thanks." The words are distracted, his eyes focusing on hers.
Jubilee squeaks in surprise, but comes willingly and winds her arms around neck and back in familiar patterns, pressing upwards into a kiss before stumbling back a few steps. A few steps that was supposed to be in the direction of her room, but actually requires a few /more/ steps of adjustment. She grins sheepishly and tugs him after.
Wesley doesn't need much encouraging, allowing himself to be led along in her wake. He closes the door after him, his feet locking in place and pulling her back to him, slipping his other arm around behind her. No words, he just bends his head down to kiss her.
Jubilee hooks an arm over his shoulder for stability and returns the kiss. She lets her free hand move across his chest and down to tug his shirt free of his waistband and slip cold fingers up underneath.
Wesley starts a bit at the chilled touch, but he doesn't complain, instead giving a small tug at the back of her shirt, and brushing his fingers along the small of her back.
Jubilee shivers and melts against him, increasing the intensity of the kiss as she starts to fumble with one hand at his shirt buttons.
Wesley's free hand undoes his top button, working his way down to her, then he shrugs it past his shoulders, freeing each arm just long enough to let it drop to the floor. "Your turn," he whispers, slowly reaching for her buttons.
Jubilee pulls back and exhales a nervous breath as she watches him undo the buttons, finally taking over for him when he takes too long. Hot pink is the color choice for the day. She reaches behind her and pulls her shirt off by each arms' cuffs.
Slowly, slowly. He's cautious despite an excited trembling. He takes a half-step back, watching her movements with a goofy smile on his face. "Man, I am the luckiest guy in the whole world," he says, stepping closer again as the shirt is doffed. "You are just so gorgeous."
Jubilee's alcohol blush deepens, finally becoming distinctly noticeable. "You're not so bad yerself. The gym was good for more than one thing." She steps back playfully as he closes, backing up until the edge of her bed hits the back of her legs. She turns and looks at it and reaches to snatch something off her bed and hold it behind her back.
Step by step, Wesley closes the distance between them and the bed, giving her a playful push to send her onto it. "Nothing like a little motivation, I guess," he says, looking down at her.
Jubilee flops back on the bed, tossing away a smallish, orange stuffed animal on the other side of the bed. She scoots back with more care, and grins. "Doesn't seem so little..."
"Little motivation, big results. Goes a looong way," Wesley says, clapping a closed fist against his chest. He leans down, crawling up the bed toward her.
Well, he crawls until Jubilee's legs get in the way. There's a moment's confusion while limbs are sorted out, then she's wrapping her arms around his neck and searching his face. "Uh. Wes... I... uh. Don't really know what to do next."
"We'll figure it out," Wesley replies, lightly running a finger along her jaw. "As long as you're sure you want to."
Jubilee stifles a yawn behind a hand, then nods. "Yeah. I'm sure. I love you. I want to."
"I want you too," Wesley says, rolling over to hover over top of her. He buries his face in her neck, one hand blindly fumbling with the button on his jeans.
Jubilee swats his hand away and pulls her other hand from behind his neck to do the unbuttoning for him--easier, if not more hesitant. She pauses a minute before pulling his zipper down and removing her fingers from the danger area as if afraid contact with anything below his belt line might scald her.
Wesley easier AND more fun. Wesley's content to let her do that while he continues to play with her hair and kiss her neck. The zipper out of the way, he worms his way out of the denim, pausing to sit up at the side of the bed and slip them off. "One sec," he murmers, fishing around in his pocket, the hurry making his fingers all the more clumsy and slow.
Jubilee yawns again and rolls over to her side, curling up and folding her arms around her middle, absent-mindedly rubbing at the area of her injury. She eyes him in muddled-head curiosity, then closes her eyes to rest them.
Wesley gives one hard tug, the wallet finally emerging. He flips it open, fumbling throught he contents before sliding out the square tear-open package. The wallet is flung aside, everything unimportant, and he turns back, scooting along the bed and giving Jubilee a playful poke.
Jubilee doesn't even open her eyes; she just grunts and bats at the poking finger, rolling over and scooting toward the opposite side of the bed, still curled into a near fetal position.
"Jubilee. Jubilee!" Wesley says, giving her another nudge. "C'mon, that's not funny." It very quickly becomes apparent, though, that no amount of pleading or poking is going to change the situation. With one very long sigh, he slides off the bed, scoops up his pants and shirt and heads for the door. He pauses, long enough to turn off the light and mutter a "Good night," before closing the door to dress outside where he won't wake Sleeping Beauty.
--------
Wesley slips out into the living room, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him. The shirt is flung to the floor, and he begins stepping into his jeans.
With the expertise of someone living in the same place for a few months now, Rogue is able to click the lock and open the door in one smooth movement as she balances her satchel in the other hand. It slides off his shoulder and drops, a 'urk' caught in her throat as she stares. "What the fuck?"
Funny, those are practically the same words coming out of Wesley's mouth, as he frantically tugs the jeans and zips himself up. He dives for the shirt, not thinking as he reaches for it with the hand still clutching the intact condom package, which falls to the floor. He freezes, half-bent over, weighing the least of many bad options. Finally, he gathers as much composure as he can before picking the package up with one hand and his shirt with the other. "Uh, hi, Rogue. Aren't you supposed to be working?"
Rogue starts forward, the satchel getting a rushed kick to send it sprawling out of her way as she surges towards him. Behind her the door slams shut with a foreboding rattle of the walls. "If you did /anything/ to her without using that Ah'll kick you in so hard you won't even have to bother paying for a sex change." A gloved hand shoots forward, grabbing at the collar of his shirt.
Wesley lets the shirt go completely, the material falling limp in her hand as Wesley takes a step back away from her. "Rogue, don't be hasty. Don't do anything we'll regret."
Rogue wrings the loose material in her hands, possibly imagining it as his neck considering the vigor with which she twists. "/We'll/ regret? What are you on about? Is she okay?" Her eyes skim past him, moving towards Jubilee's door.
Wesley's face darkens, and he spares a glance toward the door. "I don't want to talk about it."
Rogue's right hand drops off the shirt, tucking firmly into a fist tight enough to strain her glove material. "You better talk about it, you lil' toe fungus." Rogue lodges herself right into his view of the door. "Should Ah kill you on the spot or let you explain first?"
"Lay off it, Rogue," Wesley barks at her. "I know you don't like me, don't think I'm good enough for her, but I /like/ Jubilee. And you know what? She likes me. So just--deal with it." He stomps across the room, snatching his coat up. "Give me my, nevermind. Keep the shirt. I don't care. Just to make you happy, nothing happened, whatever it looks like. Ask her yourself." With that, Wesley storms out, not leaving time for her to reply, not even putting on the coat to cover himself until he's halfway down the hall.
To say Rogue looks surprised would be an understatement. By the end of his spiel the belle looks down right devastated, her fist unraveling as Wesley manages to verbally punch the air from her lungs. She manages to turn, ever so slowly, left alone with the shirt of a man not her own. Like the satchel it falls, though with the shift in mood fitting as it does so without a sound. "Jubilee?" Rogue whimpers after a long while.
2.2.07 - Jubilee falls asleep on Wes. Poor Wes. :(
2/5/2007
Rogue is getting in late, having had dinner and walked Cassy all the way to the bus that takes the younger girl back home. She's bundled up tightly, hat, scarf, coat, and of course the gloves. Her brown eyes barely make it past the mash of her knit cap and her scarf as she barrels into the apartment, shivering. "Ah'm movin' back to the south!" Rogue promises as the door shuts behind her.
"No you aren't. You're comin' ta Cali with me," Jubilee replies without looking up from the TV. She's been home a while, it looks like. Long enough to change into pajames and curl up on the couch with a tub of peanut butter and a pack of ritz crackers.
Rogue stops herself, leaning up against the door as she finds the source of the voice. "The south, Cali. We can hit both," she breaths out with a smile. Rogue plucks her hat off as she walks to the back of the couch, slipping it down around Jubilee's ears and leaning up against the backboard. "How's it going, hun?"
Jubilee tugs the brim of the hat up high enough to not impede her vision and holds her hand up to Rogue. "Not too bad. An' I meant you're comin' with me to Cali when I move out there ta get my big break."
"You want to take your Roguie?" The belle inquires with amusment. She takes the hand, her gloves still soaked with the cold from outside. "Can't wait." Fondly the hand squeezed as Rogue clambers over the back of the couch and flumps down next to her best friend. "You missed Cassy. She was here earlier."
Jubilee tugs her eyes away from the screen to grin up at her friend and watch her climb over the couch back. "You missed Mira the other day. And of /course/ I want you with me. Who else am I gonna steal the bathroom from?"
Rogue releases the others hand, cuddling up to Jubilee. "Point. Only /Ah/ can get so lovably annoyed at you," she agrees eyes lingering on Jubilee for signs of anything wrong. "M'cold." Rogue complains with a tiny snuffle, tucking herself into Jubilee's side carefully.
Jubilee pulls the edge of the blanket free and flops it over Rogue, shivering herself at the contact. Nothing /appears/ wrong. Her hair is pulled back by a wide headband and her face is scrubbed squeaky clean. "Want a cracker?"
"Yes!" Rogue squeaks, looking up from her nestled position to eye the box. "Hey Jubilee? Do you think Ah don't know how to have fun?"
Jubilee tips the bag of crackers toward Rogue and offers the peanut butter as well. "Sure you do. I have fun with ya. We're havin' fun right now, aren't we?"
Rogue takes a cracker, skips the peanut butter, and munches happily. "You do? Yeah, we do. And we are! It's just that Cassy thinks I need to relax or whatever. But, hell, she's /Cassy/."
Jubilee snorts and smears a spoonful of peanut butter on a new cracker. "Cassy thinks /anythin'/ not movin' at the speed o' light is dull." She shoves the cracker into her mouth.
"So you don't think Ah'm a stuffy bitch?" Rogue asks around the rest of the cracker between her cheeks. "And you shouldn't make fun. She's just like a lil' mini-Jubilee. Without the pigtails."
"Did she call you that?!" Jubilee asks, mumbling around a sticky mouth in outrage.
"Nooo," Rogue admits after a moment, though she does take a moment to bask in the warmth of Jubilee getting offended at that. "Called mahself that."
"Hrmp." Jubilee settles back down and scowls. "Don't you call yourself that either, or I'll hafta knock you up too." She digs for another cracker. "An' she's not /that/ much like me."
"You hit because you care, huh?" The moment Jubilee pulls out a cracker, Rogue is there to steal it. As well as the next. And however many it takes for Jubilee to learn the game. "She's sweet and adorable... and a lil' nuts."
"'xactly... Hey!" Jubilee moves the crackers out of reach and holds on to the one in her hand for dear life.
Denied. Rogue bends over to snag the last one with her teeth. "Those are all three of your traits," she points out in a muffled, cracker-filled voice.
"'m not sweet an' adorable," Jubilee grumps, twisting to punch Rogue's shoulder.
Rogue bites off her section of the cracker and sits up. "You are. Deal with it."
"Whatever," Jubilee retorts, falling back into place and leaning her head on Rogue's shoulder. In the absence of crackers, the soon cerves as a converyor of peanut butter.
Rogue eyes the straight spoonfuls of peanut butter with a wary eye. "You're okay? Did you talk to Wesley?" Her voice sounds hesitant, reluctant to break the comfort between them.
"Mhm. Things are okay," Jubilee answers, oblivious to any concern on Rogue's part, and not-okaynes on Wesley's.
"Just okay?" Rogue presses.
"Yeeeeaaah." Jubilee eyes Rogue out of the corner of her eye. "Why? We talked. Things are cool."
Rogue nods silently. "Okay. 'Cause you can totally tell me. Anythang." She eyes the peanut butter once more. "Can I make you a real dinner, please?"
"I know, Ro," Jubilee says, sticking the spoon in the peanut butter and grinning over at Rogue. "I won't say no."
Rogue pushes herself up. "Keep watchin' your stories, then. Grab a cat and hold tight. Ah'll make somethang nice," she promises. The hat on Jubilee's head gets a fond rub as Rogue heads off into the kitchen.
2.5.07 - Rogue and Jubilee are cute and eat crackers.
2/12/2007
=NYC= Wesley and Bobby's Apartment - Midtown - Apartments in the Sky
KNOCK KNOCK. Actually, more like THUMP THUMP. Jubilee pounds the door twice and turns around to lean back against the door, spine curved like the outward bending part of a D.
Bobby is sitting at his desk, working on something or the other. Probably homework. It doesn't have all of his attention, let's say. His cheek is propped up against the thick of his palm, and he's half yawning-- and jumps out of his chair like a man released at the knocks. "Coming, coming!" he calls and opens it. A bit too fast.
"WoOOAH!" Jubilee stumbles back a step, almost catches her balance, and then looses it entirely, ending up on her but just inside the doorway and looking up at Bobby. "/Flamin' fartknockers/, Bobby Drake!" she yells accusingly (because it is /entirely/ his fault) and holds her hand up to him for the expected assist up.
Bobby hops back a pace, openly startled. And then he's both sorry and vaguely suspicious and it quite messes up his expression to be . . . nebulous at best. Let us say he ends up looking incredulous. "Flaming /what/? I'm not the one who knocked and then . . . used the door as a back-rest." He takes Jubilee's hand and hauls. But not without lightly frosting over his palm first.
Jubilee eeks and nearly releases the hand. That would have been doubly disastrous, however, and far better to fight ice with fire, no? Jubilee uses his leverage to gain her feet, then holds on hard and returns an evil grin as she builds an energy paf between their hands. It itches like the devil and grows uncomfortably warm before she releases it in a control explosion that tears their hands apart.
And Bobby is back to hopping back and shaking his hand, which is not injured, but the ice is well and thoroughly melted. "All right, all right. Hello, Jubilee. What's the occasion?"
Jubilee wiggles her fingers to dispel the sensation that crawls across her palm not unlike a hundred ants in heated-sole shoes. "I came ta see Wes, duh. Is he not home?"
"Sorry. He's not. Just me." Bobby turns his hand to touch against his chest, but ends up . . . still having to shake it. "Juuust me. Really, Jubilee. It was just a little ice."
"Unhuh. It's /always/ /just/ a little ice around you, Popsicle." Jubilee pirouettes further into the room and looks around. She is /not/ surreptitiously looking for evidence of Wesley being there.
"What are you looking for? Porn? We don't have it. Spare girlfriend? Not likely. You can check under the beds if you like." Bobby flexes his hand and finally sighs out relief. Done. No more tingle.
"Sure you don't. Don't think I don't know /exactly/ what you were doin' 'fore I showed up. You can get back to it if you want. Just close the door, an' I'll turn the tv up." Jubilee halts her approach to the couch and looks back at Bobby. "Unless you /need/ the tv?"
Bobby reaches over to snatch the scrap of homework off of his desk. It is a worksheet. Uninteresting in and of itself. A piece of paper a-scribbled on. "This is what I was doing. This. There's your evidence. Do you want to examine it?"
"Not too closely, thanks," Jubilee grins as she flops downon the couch, evidently settling in to wait. Only it's after she sits down, she remembers the jacket and hat she's wearing.
"Ooooh." Bobby flaps the piece of paper toward Jubilee's face, but then returns to the desk to put the paper back on it. "I can't guarantee Wesley will be back any time soon."
Jubilee considers this, considers the coat, considers how long she has... She sits back without taking the coat off. "Fiiiine. I'm just gonna warm up then for a bit." She hunts for the remote, and finally finds it between the seat cushions.
"Uh huh." Bobby seats himself at the desk, but seats himself so that he can kind of watch Jubilee obliquely. Just in case. "Really."
Jubilee shifts on the couch and gathers her knees up under her so she can look back at him, one hand on the couch back, the other on the arm. "/What/?"
"How long's it gonna take for you to warm up?" Bobby asks in mild inquisition. "I've got homework to do."
Jubilee frowns. "An' you can't do your homework with me here?"
"I don't know that I trust you enough. What if you attack me while my back is turned?" Honest question.
"Pfft. No fun now. You're expecting it." She turns around and slides back down into her seat, flipping through channels.
"Mmng." Bobby can't really hold up this half looking, half not position for long. He picks up a pen and turns back to his worksheet.
She's true to her word, and stay comfortably ensconced on the couch for the second half of a Gilligan's Island episode, and to sing through the ending credits with only a minor stumble in the beginning. "No phones! No cars! Not a single luxury! Like Robinson and Caruso, it's primitive as can be!" she carols, jumping up and spinning around the arm of the couch. "Ok, I guess I'm outta here."
"Isn't that from Weird Al's . . . Amish Paradise?" Bobby mumbles. "I guess he uses it or-- Are you really going?" Bobby tosses another glance over his shoulder. Carefully. But he's smirking rather cheerfully.
"Dunno, but is seems kinda like cheating if he rips on Gilligan's Island. Yeah, I've got errands ta run before heading into work. Tell Wes I was here!" Like he won't be able to tell by the leftover spazzicity she leaves in her wake.
"I will." Bobby turns back and back to his homework, only to call over his shoulder. "Maybe!"
"Thbt." Then the door swings shuts, and unnatural silence falls on the room.
2.12.07 - Bobby studies. Jubilee is a distraction. Any surprise?
2/14/2007
Summer 2000
The Kitchen
The summer heat is oppressive, and the kitchen stoves have been shut down for three days already. Night's cool air is enough to leech the warmth from the stone floor, cooling the room further. It really doesn't need the water starting to pool on the floor.
Jubilee is seated on the counter, her feet in the sink, and hardly a dry spot on her. piled high in the sink and covering her feet is a bonanza of brightly colored balloons rolling squishily about while she tries to top off yet another one from the faucet.
Kurt Wagner is not a fan of the summer heat. Dark blue fur makes for a wonderful (terrible) magnet for heat. He has taken to wearing obnoxiously loud Acapulco shirts and white shorts. He looks for all the world like some tourist in Las Vegas for their first time. He approaches the kitchen in a sane manner, tail swinging slow and lethargic behind him after the day's discomfort. At the sight of Jubilee seated upon the counter, feet in the sink, and water balloons trying to escape her, he pauses in the doorway. "What in the world have I walked in upon?"
Piotr, too, does not do well with the heat or, more specifically, the humidity. The New York summer is not his friend. It is not a happy youngster, therefore, who pads his barefoot way down the stairs wearing just a pair of shorts that neatly displays the gawky stage of growth between reaching full height and reaching full size, on the search of something cold to drink in the hope that this will cool him down enough to allow him to sleep.
Jubilee looks up and grins totally unrepentantly. Short pig tails fan above her head, set in motion with every movement. She turns off the water and pulls the neck of the balloon off the tap and quickly ties it off with small and nimble fingers. She looks in no way depressed by the heat. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all," she singsongs and cradles the balloon in one hand.
Yellow eyes narrow upon the pile of balloons, "I am not inclined to believe that those are nothing." He pads, barefootedly, closer to Jubilee and the sink, reaching out a three-digited hand to pluck a balloon up. "This is surely something more than nothing, ja?" Eyeing the girl, Kurt smiles crookedly. "If it is nothing, do you mind if I toss it at you?"
Piotr continues on his unsuspecting way, turning the corner of the corridor as Kurt disappears inside, missing by a fraction of a second and the cover of night a glimpse of a blue tail.
"No /way/, Fuzz-ball. Get yer own," Jubilee protests, reaching out to pluck the water balloon from Kurt's hand.
Kurt lets out a laugh. "What are you planning then, that you need so many balloons all to yourself?" He grins slightly, just enough to avoid showing the points of his teeth. His tail is beginning to flick behind him, one of the signs of mischief building up in the German instructor's mind.
There are footsteps in the hallway. Piotr is approaching, blissfully unaware of the danger he is walking into. He does not miss a step as he reaches a large hand up to mop away the clammy perspiration on his brow.
"I dunno," Jubilee matches and exceeds his grin, kindred deviltry calling to like. "Always better ta be prepared. Never know when you might need one, after all."
Kurt's tail suddenly darts out, wrapping around one of the water balloons as he leaps backwards, trying to pull it away from Jubilee in the process. He is not above stealing balloons from young girls, it seems. Though his grab might not be the most steady, even the slightest interference could send that balloon careening out of control.
His hand still halfway over his eyes, Piotr ducks beneath the doorway, looking up again as he realises the kitchen is not as empty as he had anticipated, his hand wiping blearily down to his side as his lips pull up into a faint, tired smile of greeting.
Jubilee squeals and grabs for the purloined balloon, almost toppling off the counter under the force of the stretch and reach. "KURT! GIMME!" The forgotten balloon in her right hand is suddenly remembered, and she flings it in a badly aimed attempt at hitting the elf.
That tail is agile, but the grab was ill-conceived and done on the spurt of the moment. Jubilee's squealing and grabbing at it sends the balloon flying out of his fifth limb's grasp and flying away from the counter with the momentum. Poor Piotr's timing is stunning. The balloon flung at the Nightcrawler is also heading in that direction, after the elf deftly dodged toward one side.
Poor Piotr, indeed. The first balloon, aimed at Kurt, hits him at chest height, but a fraction of a second later the next, far more erratically hurled, hits him square in the head, startling him into a glugging shout of surprise as he armours up involuntarily. It is only a mercy that he is clear of the doorframe as his height grows, water-splatted hair sticking out in strange directions and forming into sharp spikes rather than its usual neat plate. He looks rather stunned.
Jubilee rolls off the counter in a splash of water and balloon bits (one of the poor unfortunate souls got trapped between her ankle and the sink wall) with the ease and grace of gymnast used to tumbling off higher heights. Thank goodness for body knowledge, because there is no conscious direction here. Her hand wrap around her stomach and she /howls/ with laughter.
Kurt freezes at hearing Piotr's shout, shoulders hunching up in the realization that someone was caught in that. He turns his head slowly to look at the confused, soaked, and armored youngster behind him. "Ach, mein Gott. Piotr! I did not realize you were there! Are you okay?" He asks this with great concern in his voice, even as his eyes dart back to Jubilee. Her laughter does not mitigate her as a watery threat.
It is a prolonged moment before Piotr returns to his senses, his wide eyes looking slowly down at the water dripping off him as he laboriously pieces together what has just happened. "I--" he ventures, blinking heavily, "I am fine." He does not sound entirely convinced, but he is clearly no more than a little rattled at the unexpected onslaught.
Jubilee gasps to a wheezing halt and grabs onto the counter for support as she catches her breath. "Dude... You are all... wet!" Why this is enough to send her back into hysterics is unknown.
Tension fades out of Kurt's posture when Piotr announces that he is okay. Then he looks fully over at Jubilee as her hysterics continue. "I would be careful laughing at your damp peers. Perhaps revenge will be taken, ja?" He looks over at the poor soaked Piotr. He is not encouraging this. Not at all.
Piotr looks confused at what Kurt appears to be insinuating, shaking his head slowly as he returns to his normal form and dripping water everywhere in the process. "I am not having revenge," he assures Jubilee in a statement that is rather telling in its grammatical inaccuracies. "The water is cold, yes?" He manages a tiny smile at this, recovering from his shellshock enough to push his hand back through his hair to neaten it.
Jubilee stops laughing on a gasp, though the grin, if possible, widens even further. "Yeah. It's pretty cold," she answers as she slides closer to the sink again, flicking a glance aside at Kurt. "No revenge, huh?" Her hand dives into the sink and flips up a fresh balloon, then launches it at him while spinning and running for the door leading outside.
When Jubilee takes off running, Kurt is compelled to give chase. But not before grabbing a trio of balloons, one for each hand and one in his tail. "Soon we will be laughing at you for your moistness!" This threat doesn't come out so well, but he tried.
Dull resignation stoops Piotr's shoulders as his good nature is taken advantage of, again. Soaked and dejected, he heads to the fridge, trailing splatters of water from his soggy shorts and leaving dark footprints on the ground behind him as he locates a carton of orange juice. He takes a drink, and then goes to find someone to tell about the mess.
Summer 2000 - Kurt is sneaky, Jubilee mischievous, and Piotr all wet.