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Fic: Getting Lucky (1/1) OC(Mike), Jubilation [PG-13] X1

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  • pphillips914
    Title: Getting Lucky Author: Pat Phillips Summary: Mike and Jubilation share an erotically charged evening. And for quite possibly the first time in the
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 27, 2003
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      Title: Getting Lucky

      Author: Pat Phillips

      Summary: Mike and Jubilation share an
      erotically charged evening. And for
      quite possibly the first time in the
      history of fan fiction, nothing much
      happens -- except that Mike gets lucky.

      Rating/warning & pairing/characters:
      Rated PG-13,
      Jubilation, OC(Mike)

      With the exception of Mike McWhirter,
      I do not own these characters. Instead,
      they are the property of Marvel Comics.

      As a firm believer in property rights,
      it's only reasonable that I specify that
      my use of these characters should in no
      way be interpreted as a threat to Marvel's
      ownership of them.

      All of my fan fiction, including this story,
      is a not-for-profit venture. After all, when
      you get down to it, who would pay for this
      stuff?

      Readers of my other fiction may notice that
      Mike is a minor character in "A Sacrifice
      of Flowers". Note that this story assumes
      that there was significant period of time
      between the defeat of Magneto and the
      Brotherhood at the Statue of Liberty and
      Logan's leaving to investigate the Alkali Lake
      facility. During that time Jean, Scott, Ororo,
      and Logan conducted missions for the Professor.
      That may not be exactly canon, but it allows
      for some interesting stories.

      GETTING LUCKY

      After a month of wandering the mansion at night, I finally figured
      it out. It wasn't that I was having trouble sleeping. Instead, I
      just didn't need much sleep anymore. Four hours was fine. If I got
      that, I was never sleepy. Two hours would work, but I would have
      some trouble in the morning.

      But what the heck was I supposed to do in the middle of the night
      when everyone else was asleep?

      I kept on prowling. And that's how I found Jubes.

      There's this place that a lot of the students don't know about. In
      an old storage room next to the kitchen, a ladder goes up to a
      trapdoor. The ladder is hard to see unless you look for it -- I
      found it pretty much by accident on one of my evening prowls. It
      goes up to a small flat spot on the roof. There's a low railing up
      there, and as near as I could tell, it's just a place to hang-out
      and get a good view of the property. Maybe it was intended for sun-
      bathing or something.

      Late one night, bored out of my mind, I grabbed my binoculars and
      headed for that spot on the roof. I figured I would do some star-
      gazing.

      As I clambered out onto the roof -- trying to hold my binoculars,
      the ladder, and the trapdoor all at the same time -- I realized
      someone else was up there.

      "Hey!" someone yelled at me in surprise.

      It was a girl's voice. Since it was night, I couldn't see too
      clearly. But then she took a nervous puff from her cigarette, and I
      could see her face in the red glare.

      "Hey, Jubes. What's up?" I asked, not saying anything about the six
      pack of beer and the cigarettes. Both were outlawed for students
      here at Professor Xavier's school.

      "Dammit, Mike, you retard. You scared the crap out of me!"

      "Easy, Jubes, you're not in trouble," I said, letting the trapdoor
      slam shut.

      She relaxed a bit.

      "Of course," I continued, "I've got you by the short hairs. You're
      going to be cooking breakfast for me for the rest of your life."

      She looked at me, and smiled as she took another puff from her
      cigarette.

      "You're a pretty ruthless guy, Mike."

      "Even worse, you'll have to wear a frilly little apron," I teased.

      "Do I get to wear anything else but the apron?" she asked with a low
      laugh.

      Jubilation Lee -- Jubes to her friends --- is a very pretty Chinese-
      American girl. My mind sorta grabbed what she said, wrapped itself
      around the concept, and pronounced the idea of Jubes in a tiny apron
      and nothing else to be a really fun thought.

      But then I told myself to get real. Jubes is two years older than
      me. Fourteen years-old versus sixteen years-old is a big gap. And
      I'm not exactly a high-quality catch for any girl. Yeah, I think
      the older girls here at school are pretty cute. But -- at best --
      they think of me as a dumb younger brother.

      "How about you keep your clothes on and give me a beer instead?" I
      responded.

      "Hmmph. That's the normal pattern with you guys. Beer now. Nudity
      after we've had a few."

      "You can get naked whenever you want, Jubes. I'm flexible."

      She cocked her head to one side and looked at me, "You're pretty
      good at this kinda give and take, Mike."

      I shrugged.

      "I mean it," She said. "It doesn't track with the idea that you're
      supposed to be a retard."

      She uses that word a lot. With most folks, I could care less. But
      for some reason, it hurts when Jubes says it -- not that I ever let
      her see that. Anyhow, she handed me a beer. There were still four
      left in the six pack. She was halfway through her first.

      We settled in, sipping and talking. Jubes and I do have a few
      things in common. We both stink at school work. although I'm
      actually pretty good with history and she's good with languages. So
      we complained about our classes, teachers, and homework.

      The first beers went down pretty quick. We opened another pair.

      Jubes and I didn't talk about home, which is normally a standard
      subject for the kids here. Jubes doesn't have a home. The story
      I'd heard was that both her folks were killed in a car-wreck. The
      foster-home thing didn't work and she ended up on the streets of LA
      for a couple of years. You hear a lot of nasty and lovingly-
      repeated stories of what she did during that time.

      Eventually Jubes developed her mutant powers -- she's an energy
      projector. And then she used them in a way that caught the
      attention of the Professor. The X-Men dragged her back to the
      school.

      I ran down to the TV room and came back with some cushions. We got
      comfortable on them and tried out the binoculars. She got a kick
      out of star-gazing. I showed her Mars and Jupiter. She liked the
      names of the stars and was fascinated at how so many of them had
      Arabic names.

      The second pair of beers vanished.

      Look, we were light-weights, OK? Neither one of us really did much
      drinking. Me even less than Jubes. So two beers left us a little
      loopy.

      We kept talking. And we opened up to each other. She told me about
      a guy here at school who hadn't treated her very fairly. I told her
      how I felt about Kitty. Jubes didn't laugh at me, but told me she
      didn't think I had much of a chance since Kitty and Peter were so
      close.

      Once we got past our personal lives, we gossiped about the various
      romances and rumors of romance in the school. Jubes was a typical
      girl on that subject -- an encyclopedia.

      We knocked off our third beer each. The six pack was gone and we
      were fairly buzzed. It was getting cool. Jubes had a blanket and
      she wrapped it around me. I opened it back up, scooted next to her,
      and wrapped it around both of us. I would never have done that if I
      hadn't been a little tanked.

      Jubes didn't fight it. In fact, she snuggled close.

      We talked about our powers. We talked about all the bad feelings
      between normal folks and mutants. And we talked about how scared we
      were about the future. Soon, we were holding each other.

      We fell asleep in each other's arms. Spooned together against the
      cold.

      *****

      Later.

      "Mike."

      "Huh-wha?"

      "Mike."

      "C'mon, go to sleep, Jubes."

      "Mike. Your hands."

      What about my...

      Oh.

      I readjusted quickly.

      "Sorry, Jubes."

      She gave me a kiss on my forehead. The kinda kiss I give my little
      sister Mary.

      Nuts.

      "That's OK, Mike. Go back to sleep," she said, a warm smile in her
      voice that I couldn't see in the dark.

      *****

      Later.

      "Jubes?"

      "Hmmm?"

      "Jubes, I really think you should be awake when you're doing that."

      "Mike? OHMIGOD!"

      She stopped what she was doing. Oh, well.

      "I... I'm sorry, Mike."

      "It's OK, Jubes."

      "Oh, God. I'm so embarrassed..."

      "I told you it was OK. You... uh, must have been dreaming."

      "Oh, geeze..."

      "Take it easy, Jubes. You didn't start anything that I can't handle
      later on."

      That made her laugh, which seemed to calm her down some. But
      neither one of us could go back to sleep. And yet neither of us
      wanted to run away, either. Jubes finally settled back into my
      arms, her back to me, the short hair on the back of her head
      tickling my nose. God, she smelled good.

      She finally said, "Mike, I'm not messing with you. I'm not playing
      some kind of game."

      "I know. You wouldn't do that."

      Another silence.

      "Do you know about the time I spent on my own in LA?" she asked,

      "Yeah," I said cautiously -- some of those stories about Jubes in LA
      were pretty ugly. Some of the people telling the stories really
      like the ugly parts. Some people should learn to shut their mouths.

      "I was mostly a thief. Small stuff. Snatch and run. I didn't hurt
      anyone."

      "OK."

      "Being a thief is not the usual way a girl gets by on the street."

      "Uh... right," Dad had explained to me some of the things you see on
      Colfax Street back home in Denver.

      "I avoided that sorta thing as much as I could."

      As much as she could. How old was she back then? I did the math,
      and didn't like the result. Suddenly, I was holding Jubes a lot
      tighter.

      "Mike, I did things that I'm not proud of, but I wouldn't let
      anyone... Look, what I'm trying to say is that when the day comes,
      I don't want it to be because I had too much to drink and there's a
      guy around who I like, but don't love. Do you understand?"

      "Yeah, I think I do. Go back to sleep, Jubes."

      *****

      We got a couple more hours sleep. After we got up, we sat together
      and held hands, watching the sunrise. It was white, yellow, and
      orange through a thin haze of high clouds. I'll remember that
      sunrise, and Jubes delighted smile as she watched it, until the day
      I die.

      Together, we cleaned up the evidence. Jubes suggested breakfast. I
      offered to toast some pop-tarts. She sighed and said she would cook.

      We became friends. Good friends. I helped her with her history
      classes. Jubes taught me how to roller-blade and a bunch of cool
      Chinese cuss words. From that night on, she was always there when I
      needed help, or advice, or just someone to talk to. I did the same
      for her as best I could.

      She's called me a lot of names since then. But "retard" wasn't one
      of them. It just sorta vanished.

      Those stories about Jubes? I can't say they stopped. But they sure
      stopped around me. There are a few guys around here who can tell
      you just how serious I can be when I say, "shut up." They can show
      you the scars.

      So Jubes is first girl I ever slept with. Of course, the sort of
      things most people think about when you say "I slept with so-and-so"
      didn't happen.

      Laugh if you want. But I wouldn't give any of that night back, or
      change any of it, for anything in the world.

      Because I made a good friend that night.

      Hey, what can I say? I got lucky.
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