Jubilee really could not figure it out.
Remy was hot. Oh yeah, she got that. I mean, who could miss that sculpted upper body when he stripped off his shirt in the Danger Room after a major workout or that sexy smile or those gorgeous red and black eyes that actually glowed and throbbed and darkened with his moods. Seriously. Rogue lucked out on that front. Totally. And in that regard, Jubilee envied her.
But now that Rogue was as big as a whale—and about as sociable—being pregnant, the looks wasn't exactly the deciding factor. No, no. He just had to be so sweet!
He cooked for her, did the laundry—oh! what would Jubilee give for a guy to do her laundry!—tucked her in with blankets, books, pillows, anything she wanted. Remy LeBeau, Guild Thief and dangerous guy extraordinaire ran about as a gopher and a butler doing anything that might make his 'chère' more comfortable or happy.
Where did Rogue find these guys?
Hot. Sweet. Dangerous. The typical bad boy that is so totally awesomely good. Jubilee could not figure it out. She couldn't seem to land even one of those qualities.
Rogue caught her staring at them, her and Remy all curled up on the couch in front of the TV with one of their never-ending quarts of black cherry frozen yogurt—Rogue never had explained what was up with the yogurt, talk about some serious cravings—looking so incredibly sweet it was just sickening.
Jubilee sighed and looked back down at her book. Jane Eyre. This girl had two guys after her. Mysterious, dark, intriguing, with a fabulous sense of humor. That was Rochester for you. Why did everyone else get the good stuff?
Finally, she tossed the book across the couch in disgust, got up off the couch, and stomped out of the room. She could hear Remy's voice behind her.
"Y' t'ink she's okay?"
Of course, he'd ask about her. So sweet.
Jubilee went back in her bedroom, slammed the door, cranked the music. Was it so much to ask for her own hot, sweet, dangerous? She'd never even met an attractive guy here that interested her. With a huge sigh almost too big for her body, she flopped out across the bed.
"Why me?" she whined.
Everybody had someone. Kitty had Piotr—hot, sweet, dangerous, yuppers. Lorna had Bobby—cute, sweet, and...well, um...yeah. Lorna had Bobby. Moira had Hank. Ororo had Logan—hot, dangerous, not sweet, but catching a trend here? Allison had Warren, that sweet in and out hunk whose father developed the Cure and who also fit the general bill.
Jubilee had...
No one.
Ouch.
Another loud, huffy teenager-like sigh.
Somebody knocked.
"Go away!" she shouted, careless of whoever was disturbing her pity party.
They knocked louder.
"What!" She threw up her hands. "Can't a girl have a decent sulk anymore?" But she got herself up off the bed and stormed over to the door to yank it open. And met...roses?
She blinked.
"Uh..."
Dozens of red roses in a big bowery bouquet and a vase. There was obviously some female behind them, but Jubilee wasn't really certain who.
Not until a very grumpy voice ordered her, "Back up already so I can bring them in!"
Jubilee backed up. "Lorna. Are those yours?"
"Mmph!" The flowers deposited on the dresser and she could finally see the frazzled green hair and harried expression of her friend. "Of course not," Lorna snapped. "They're yours. I picked them up from this rude flower boy that absolutely refused to come inside the mansion. Something about getting injured last time he delivered flowers here." Lorna eyed the bunch critically. "They look expensive."
Jubilee was still staring in shock.
"Well," Lorna prodded. "Card?"
"Oh. Yeah." Jubilee stepped forward and hunted in the roses—wow, they smelled good—for a little card and read the inscription. She wrinkled her nose. "Can't guys just tell you who they are anymore?"
Lorna hung her head over Jubilee's shoulder. "Secret admirer, huh?" She shrugged. "Well, count yourself lucky, girl, but I'm not lugging up any more flowers, got it? Nearly strained my back there."
"Sure." Jubilee grinned at the overstatement. "See you."
"Later."
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Sam snagged Lorna out of the hall as she went by and dragged her into the kitchen.
"What the—"
"Well?" He looked at her expectantly, ultra-nervous.
The magnetic mistress glared at him. "Well, what?"
"Did she like them? Jubilee?"
Lorna stared at him. "You sent those roses? Where in the world did you get the money?"
Sam forgot that talking to Lorna was not the same as talking to Kitty or Rogue, but he just shrugged, giving the most innocent expression he could muster. "Did she like them?"
"Boys!" Lorna sighed. "Yeah. She liked them. Now, if you don't mind, I have a standing appointment with my pillow I gotta keep." With that, she whisked away.
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Hot. Sweet. Dangerous.
Well, this was definitely sweet. Jubilee eyed the flowers critically. One out of three not bad.
Remy was hot. Oh yeah, she got that. I mean, who could miss that sculpted upper body when he stripped off his shirt in the Danger Room after a major workout or that sexy smile or those gorgeous red and black eyes that actually glowed and throbbed and darkened with his moods. Seriously. Rogue lucked out on that front. Totally. And in that regard, Jubilee envied her.
But now that Rogue was as big as a whale—and about as sociable—being pregnant, the looks wasn't exactly the deciding factor. No, no. He just had to be so sweet!
He cooked for her, did the laundry—oh! what would Jubilee give for a guy to do her laundry!—tucked her in with blankets, books, pillows, anything she wanted. Remy LeBeau, Guild Thief and dangerous guy extraordinaire ran about as a gopher and a butler doing anything that might make his 'chère' more comfortable or happy.
Where did Rogue find these guys?
Hot. Sweet. Dangerous. The typical bad boy that is so totally awesomely good. Jubilee could not figure it out. She couldn't seem to land even one of those qualities.
Rogue caught her staring at them, her and Remy all curled up on the couch in front of the TV with one of their never-ending quarts of black cherry frozen yogurt—Rogue never had explained what was up with the yogurt, talk about some serious cravings—looking so incredibly sweet it was just sickening.
Jubilee sighed and looked back down at her book. Jane Eyre. This girl had two guys after her. Mysterious, dark, intriguing, with a fabulous sense of humor. That was Rochester for you. Why did everyone else get the good stuff?
Finally, she tossed the book across the couch in disgust, got up off the couch, and stomped out of the room. She could hear Remy's voice behind her.
"Y' t'ink she's okay?"
Of course, he'd ask about her. So sweet.
Jubilee went back in her bedroom, slammed the door, cranked the music. Was it so much to ask for her own hot, sweet, dangerous? She'd never even met an attractive guy here that interested her. With a huge sigh almost too big for her body, she flopped out across the bed.
"Why me?" she whined.
Everybody had someone. Kitty had Piotr—hot, sweet, dangerous, yuppers. Lorna had Bobby—cute, sweet, and...well, um...yeah. Lorna had Bobby. Moira had Hank. Ororo had Logan—hot, dangerous, not sweet, but catching a trend here? Allison had Warren, that sweet in and out hunk whose father developed the Cure and who also fit the general bill.
Jubilee had...
No one.
Ouch.
Another loud, huffy teenager-like sigh.
Somebody knocked.
"Go away!" she shouted, careless of whoever was disturbing her pity party.
They knocked louder.
"What!" She threw up her hands. "Can't a girl have a decent sulk anymore?" But she got herself up off the bed and stormed over to the door to yank it open. And met...roses?
She blinked.
"Uh..."
Dozens of red roses in a big bowery bouquet and a vase. There was obviously some female behind them, but Jubilee wasn't really certain who.
Not until a very grumpy voice ordered her, "Back up already so I can bring them in!"
Jubilee backed up. "Lorna. Are those yours?"
"Mmph!" The flowers deposited on the dresser and she could finally see the frazzled green hair and harried expression of her friend. "Of course not," Lorna snapped. "They're yours. I picked them up from this rude flower boy that absolutely refused to come inside the mansion. Something about getting injured last time he delivered flowers here." Lorna eyed the bunch critically. "They look expensive."
Jubilee was still staring in shock.
"Well," Lorna prodded. "Card?"
"Oh. Yeah." Jubilee stepped forward and hunted in the roses—wow, they smelled good—for a little card and read the inscription. She wrinkled her nose. "Can't guys just tell you who they are anymore?"
Lorna hung her head over Jubilee's shoulder. "Secret admirer, huh?" She shrugged. "Well, count yourself lucky, girl, but I'm not lugging up any more flowers, got it? Nearly strained my back there."
"Sure." Jubilee grinned at the overstatement. "See you."
"Later."
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Sam snagged Lorna out of the hall as she went by and dragged her into the kitchen.
"What the—"
"Well?" He looked at her expectantly, ultra-nervous.
The magnetic mistress glared at him. "Well, what?"
"Did she like them? Jubilee?"
Lorna stared at him. "You sent those roses? Where in the world did you get the money?"
Sam forgot that talking to Lorna was not the same as talking to Kitty or Rogue, but he just shrugged, giving the most innocent expression he could muster. "Did she like them?"
"Boys!" Lorna sighed. "Yeah. She liked them. Now, if you don't mind, I have a standing appointment with my pillow I gotta keep." With that, she whisked away.
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Hot. Sweet. Dangerous.
Well, this was definitely sweet. Jubilee eyed the flowers critically. One out of three not bad.
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