Over the Rainbow 8/?
Beta: Thank you jaq_of_spades and tannasan for all suggestions, corrections and fangirling!
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
Author’s Notes: I promised to update every 2 weeks on Friday, so here I am. In this chapter, Marie is having breakfast with our beloved and ever so subtle Jubilee. Do I need to say more? :P
There should be a law against friends dating each other. If it doesn’t work out, it seriously screws up everyone’s schedule. Suddenly you have to think about who’s where, at what time, and there’s always one party who needs to come up with alternatives. Unfortunately, in my case, that party turns out to be me.
Instead of meeting at the regular table at the cafeteria, I’m having a little picnic-breakfast in the garden maze this morning. Not only am I trying to avoid the inevitable post-break up awkwardness, I also want to give Bobby and Kitty a bit of space. It must be weird to do the flirt-ritual with me around, so staying out of sight seems like a good idea for the next couple of days. I like to think I’m being very generous. It sure beats accepting I'm a coward.
“Morning,” Jubes grumbles, sauntering into the maze about fifteen minutes late. “Tell me you got coffee.”
“’Course.”
I pour her a plastic mug and carefully hand it over. She’s never been a morning person, but she knows there was a meeting last night. It’s just a matter of time before she actually wakes up and the questions start pouring out. It makes me wonder if that’s the reason she agreed to hang out with me today, but then I quickly correct myself. If she’s willing to change her schedule too, who am I to doubt underlying motives?
And - just like always, her brain snaps into place after just a few sips of caffeine. “So, que pasa?”
Busying myself with the rest of the food and drinks, I remind myself I’m not supposed to blabber about everything that’s been said.
“New teachers coming in this week and we’re gonna set up some kind of buddy-system to help them out for a while.”
“Who’d you get?”
“No one yet. We’re gonna wait until everyone is here, but Bobby’s with Miss Munroe. She needs all the help she can get and he volunteered.”
“Bet KitKat’s glad he’s staying,” she says, and I save myself from answering by taking a big bite out of my croissant.
She’s right though. Bobby was supposed to wait for me so we could to college together, but now he can swap me for someone else and nothing is lost. How incredibly convenient for the both of them.
“Kurt will hop over,” I say, eager to change subjects. “He seemed to have a calming effect when Jean died, so maybe - when she died the first time, I mean.”
“Cool. He still owes me bamfing to the mall.”
“You’d want that? He bamfed me once, but I only felt nauseous afterwards.”
“That’s because you were falling out of a Jet, genius.”
“Right,” I groan, really not in the mood to discuss *that* subject either.
I still wake up all sweaty and sick from nightmares about free falling, hurtling through the air and desperately clawing at absolutely nothing. I’ve been wondering if sky diving would help me get over it, but just the thought makes me want to barf. Obviously, I’ve been putting those plans on hold for a while.
“Bet he and Storm are humping each other within three months,” Jubes muses, and that actually makes me smile for the first time today.
“You’re on. But none of your match-making stuff.”
She smirks back at me. “Hey, I get things done around here. And speaking of getting things done, what’s your take on catching a certain Wolverine today?”
“No one’s catching Logan when he doesn’t want to be caught,” I tell her matter-of-factly, but I glance at the new gadget we all got last night; a mobile phone with a high tech tracker system.
Jubes must be fully awake by now, because in one fluid motion she’s snagged it right from under my nose. “What? Are you guys sexting already?”
“No, stupid.” The thought actually makes me laugh. “That’s my X-phone. Miss Munroe only has to touch one button and we all get an alarm and a message to suit up. You know, since she’s not a telepath and all.”
“Good thinking.” She touches the screen a couple of times and I hope with all my heart she doesn’t do something embarrassing. Like, actually sending a text to Logan or something. Oh, my God, that would be so disastrous.
But thankfully, even though Jubes’ mind is awake, it isn’t in the gutter just yet. She shows me the screen with a map and my team mates’ names, and I see Bobby and Kitty have changed their avatars into a snow crystal and a black cat respectively. “What’s this? Track and trace?”
“Sorta, yeah. We’re supposed to keep the phones with us at all times.”
“Whoa,” she gushes. “Now we can totally, like, stalk him!”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes at her, but I feel like such a hypocrite. I’ve been staring at Logan’s avatar moving around in the mansion pretty much all morning. “I’m surprised he even brought it with him. I thought he’d leave it in his room.”
“That’s because he wants you to *know* where he is, dumbass. So you can hunt him down.”
“In case you forgot, a wolverine’s a predator, not the prey.” I take back the phone and hide the screen. “And no, I’m not gonna put on a bunny suit and let him hunt *me*.”
Although - the thought makes me smile again. Hop hop, bunny-me! Wiggle your tail so the big, bad Wolverine can ravish you. Heheh. At least he won’t end up getting killed after sinking his teeth into my throat. Such an uplifting thought.
“Oh, come on, chica,” Jubes pushes. “The man’s been through a lot. He’s licking his wounds right now. That’s where you should come in. Let him lick you instead.”
“Right,” I answer dryly, trying very hard *not* to picture that. “I’ll throw myself at his feet as the rebound girl. It’s not like I’ve got any self-esteem or anything.”
She sighs dramatically and pokes my arm. “You know, ever since you took the Cure, you’ve become a cranky bitch.”
And that just pisses me off.
“It’s got nothing to do with the Cure,” I snap agitatedly. “I’m - just-”
“Just what?” she sasses back. “Not getting any? Yeah, I’d be upset about that, too.”
Sometimes, I’d like to choke her. I swear I would.
“I’m not upset about any of that. This is not about Bobby, or Kitty, or - whatever.” I bite my lip and try to gather my thoughts. “It’s - it’s the way no one seems to shut up about Alcatraz. I’m sick and tired of my absence being rubbed in. I mean, how was I supposed to know they were gonna fight the battle of the century right after I left?”
There. I’ve said it. I’m angry. And hurt. And ashamed. And - just - ugh!
But pouring my heart out to Jubes doesn’t seem to impress her. Not even realizing that I usually don’t talk about my feelings, she pets my bare hand and says, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like you would’ve been useful over there.”
You can always count on Jubes’ lack of tact in times of need.
“Gee, another one of your supportive pep talks.”
“What? You would’ve ended up with even more psychotic loonies inside your head.”
Okay. The most disturbing part about this conversation is that she’s right. I *know* I didn’t have a very useful mutation, but I’m really tired of hearing about heroic sacrifices. Maybe it’s some kind of post-traumatic therapy thing, but I feel left out every time they bring it up. Not to mention guilty as hell. And then those looks they’re sharing - I don’t think they’re doing it on purpose, but, please, can we all get over it and move on now?
While I’m still seething, Jubes has made herself comfortable on the blanket, merrily chewing on one of the croissants.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asks with her mouth full.
I lie down next to her and sigh. Jubes isn’t the one for deep talks. She’s got great energy though. Might as well roll with it.
“Plan for what?”
“Uh, duh! Catching you a sexy beast, remember?”
I tiredly close my eyes and keep all chastising comments to myself. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Ha! See? Aren’t you glad you got me? ‘Cause I got it all figured out.” She sits up straight again and eagerly proceeds to share all her ingenuity. “First, you’re gonna put on something nice and trashy to dazzle him with your touchable, porcelain skin.”
I want to protest, but she snaps her fingers at me and a spark of fireworks explode dangerously close to my face, effectively shutting me up.
“Then, you’re gonna find him and make conversation. You know, be a friend. He’s been watching your ass for so long, it’s time you return the favor.”
I sit up too and know I’m going to sound like some petulant kid when I whine, “But I don’t know how. He makes me feel so - so -”
“Excited?” she offers. “In heat? Horny?”
Despite it all, I can’t help but laugh again. “Goddamnit, Jubes. I’m being serious here. He makes me feel all nervous and jumpy and just - weird.”
“Yeah, yeah. In case you’re wondering, that’s called love.” She waves it all away like it’s nothing serious. “Now, get a grip, finish your breakfast, and go have some sex.”
Theatrically, I let myself fall back on the blanket and groan out loud.
Sex with Logan. Yeah, right. I’m *so* not going there. If I’d make it through a conversation without feeling like a total moron, I’d be deliriously happy already.
TBC
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
Author’s Notes: I promised to update every 2 weeks on Friday, so here I am. In this chapter, Marie is having breakfast with our beloved and ever so subtle Jubilee. Do I need to say more? :P
There should be a law against friends dating each other. If it doesn’t work out, it seriously screws up everyone’s schedule. Suddenly you have to think about who’s where, at what time, and there’s always one party who needs to come up with alternatives. Unfortunately, in my case, that party turns out to be me.
Instead of meeting at the regular table at the cafeteria, I’m having a little picnic-breakfast in the garden maze this morning. Not only am I trying to avoid the inevitable post-break up awkwardness, I also want to give Bobby and Kitty a bit of space. It must be weird to do the flirt-ritual with me around, so staying out of sight seems like a good idea for the next couple of days. I like to think I’m being very generous. It sure beats accepting I'm a coward.
“Morning,” Jubes grumbles, sauntering into the maze about fifteen minutes late. “Tell me you got coffee.”
“’Course.”
I pour her a plastic mug and carefully hand it over. She’s never been a morning person, but she knows there was a meeting last night. It’s just a matter of time before she actually wakes up and the questions start pouring out. It makes me wonder if that’s the reason she agreed to hang out with me today, but then I quickly correct myself. If she’s willing to change her schedule too, who am I to doubt underlying motives?
And - just like always, her brain snaps into place after just a few sips of caffeine. “So, que pasa?”
Busying myself with the rest of the food and drinks, I remind myself I’m not supposed to blabber about everything that’s been said.
“New teachers coming in this week and we’re gonna set up some kind of buddy-system to help them out for a while.”
“Who’d you get?”
“No one yet. We’re gonna wait until everyone is here, but Bobby’s with Miss Munroe. She needs all the help she can get and he volunteered.”
“Bet KitKat’s glad he’s staying,” she says, and I save myself from answering by taking a big bite out of my croissant.
She’s right though. Bobby was supposed to wait for me so we could to college together, but now he can swap me for someone else and nothing is lost. How incredibly convenient for the both of them.
“Kurt will hop over,” I say, eager to change subjects. “He seemed to have a calming effect when Jean died, so maybe - when she died the first time, I mean.”
“Cool. He still owes me bamfing to the mall.”
“You’d want that? He bamfed me once, but I only felt nauseous afterwards.”
“That’s because you were falling out of a Jet, genius.”
“Right,” I groan, really not in the mood to discuss *that* subject either.
I still wake up all sweaty and sick from nightmares about free falling, hurtling through the air and desperately clawing at absolutely nothing. I’ve been wondering if sky diving would help me get over it, but just the thought makes me want to barf. Obviously, I’ve been putting those plans on hold for a while.
“Bet he and Storm are humping each other within three months,” Jubes muses, and that actually makes me smile for the first time today.
“You’re on. But none of your match-making stuff.”
She smirks back at me. “Hey, I get things done around here. And speaking of getting things done, what’s your take on catching a certain Wolverine today?”
“No one’s catching Logan when he doesn’t want to be caught,” I tell her matter-of-factly, but I glance at the new gadget we all got last night; a mobile phone with a high tech tracker system.
Jubes must be fully awake by now, because in one fluid motion she’s snagged it right from under my nose. “What? Are you guys sexting already?”
“No, stupid.” The thought actually makes me laugh. “That’s my X-phone. Miss Munroe only has to touch one button and we all get an alarm and a message to suit up. You know, since she’s not a telepath and all.”
“Good thinking.” She touches the screen a couple of times and I hope with all my heart she doesn’t do something embarrassing. Like, actually sending a text to Logan or something. Oh, my God, that would be so disastrous.
But thankfully, even though Jubes’ mind is awake, it isn’t in the gutter just yet. She shows me the screen with a map and my team mates’ names, and I see Bobby and Kitty have changed their avatars into a snow crystal and a black cat respectively. “What’s this? Track and trace?”
“Sorta, yeah. We’re supposed to keep the phones with us at all times.”
“Whoa,” she gushes. “Now we can totally, like, stalk him!”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes at her, but I feel like such a hypocrite. I’ve been staring at Logan’s avatar moving around in the mansion pretty much all morning. “I’m surprised he even brought it with him. I thought he’d leave it in his room.”
“That’s because he wants you to *know* where he is, dumbass. So you can hunt him down.”
“In case you forgot, a wolverine’s a predator, not the prey.” I take back the phone and hide the screen. “And no, I’m not gonna put on a bunny suit and let him hunt *me*.”
Although - the thought makes me smile again. Hop hop, bunny-me! Wiggle your tail so the big, bad Wolverine can ravish you. Heheh. At least he won’t end up getting killed after sinking his teeth into my throat. Such an uplifting thought.
“Oh, come on, chica,” Jubes pushes. “The man’s been through a lot. He’s licking his wounds right now. That’s where you should come in. Let him lick you instead.”
“Right,” I answer dryly, trying very hard *not* to picture that. “I’ll throw myself at his feet as the rebound girl. It’s not like I’ve got any self-esteem or anything.”
She sighs dramatically and pokes my arm. “You know, ever since you took the Cure, you’ve become a cranky bitch.”
And that just pisses me off.
“It’s got nothing to do with the Cure,” I snap agitatedly. “I’m - just-”
“Just what?” she sasses back. “Not getting any? Yeah, I’d be upset about that, too.”
Sometimes, I’d like to choke her. I swear I would.
“I’m not upset about any of that. This is not about Bobby, or Kitty, or - whatever.” I bite my lip and try to gather my thoughts. “It’s - it’s the way no one seems to shut up about Alcatraz. I’m sick and tired of my absence being rubbed in. I mean, how was I supposed to know they were gonna fight the battle of the century right after I left?”
There. I’ve said it. I’m angry. And hurt. And ashamed. And - just - ugh!
But pouring my heart out to Jubes doesn’t seem to impress her. Not even realizing that I usually don’t talk about my feelings, she pets my bare hand and says, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like you would’ve been useful over there.”
You can always count on Jubes’ lack of tact in times of need.
“Gee, another one of your supportive pep talks.”
“What? You would’ve ended up with even more psychotic loonies inside your head.”
Okay. The most disturbing part about this conversation is that she’s right. I *know* I didn’t have a very useful mutation, but I’m really tired of hearing about heroic sacrifices. Maybe it’s some kind of post-traumatic therapy thing, but I feel left out every time they bring it up. Not to mention guilty as hell. And then those looks they’re sharing - I don’t think they’re doing it on purpose, but, please, can we all get over it and move on now?
While I’m still seething, Jubes has made herself comfortable on the blanket, merrily chewing on one of the croissants.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asks with her mouth full.
I lie down next to her and sigh. Jubes isn’t the one for deep talks. She’s got great energy though. Might as well roll with it.
“Plan for what?”
“Uh, duh! Catching you a sexy beast, remember?”
I tiredly close my eyes and keep all chastising comments to myself. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Ha! See? Aren’t you glad you got me? ‘Cause I got it all figured out.” She sits up straight again and eagerly proceeds to share all her ingenuity. “First, you’re gonna put on something nice and trashy to dazzle him with your touchable, porcelain skin.”
I want to protest, but she snaps her fingers at me and a spark of fireworks explode dangerously close to my face, effectively shutting me up.
“Then, you’re gonna find him and make conversation. You know, be a friend. He’s been watching your ass for so long, it’s time you return the favor.”
I sit up too and know I’m going to sound like some petulant kid when I whine, “But I don’t know how. He makes me feel so - so -”
“Excited?” she offers. “In heat? Horny?”
Despite it all, I can’t help but laugh again. “Goddamnit, Jubes. I’m being serious here. He makes me feel all nervous and jumpy and just - weird.”
“Yeah, yeah. In case you’re wondering, that’s called love.” She waves it all away like it’s nothing serious. “Now, get a grip, finish your breakfast, and go have some sex.”
Theatrically, I let myself fall back on the blanket and groan out loud.
Sex with Logan. Yeah, right. I’m *so* not going there. If I’d make it through a conversation without feeling like a total moron, I’d be deliriously happy already.
TBC