I'm giving this an R rating (for violence, language and sexual situations).

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Author's notes: Thanks, Gracias, Mercis, Danke, Grazie, Agradeça-o, to EVERYONE for your reviews & emails. You made me see that what I was worried about is nothing more than the ff.net popularity contest rearing it's ugly head… And a contest with no consistent rules is to be ignored, so fuck it. I'll keep posting here, as requested, and the naysayers can just keep on naysaying.

To Jubes2681: I did want Angel's death to be a shock to the reader as much as it was to the characters. But you're totally right, it was written rushed. So, I will edit that part (eventually) and I'll tell ya when I do! Thanks for the constructive C!!

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8

Out of sight, out of mind?

In the many years that they had known one another, Rogue had rarely seen Betsy Braddock cry. Some very angry tears were shed here and there. She'd seen some tears of laughter, or even relief. But not like this.

Betsy, Rogue, Domino and Cable had all just witnessed the same report that sent Scott Summers' coffee mug crashing to the floor in the kitchen of Xavier's mansion. These were distraught tears coming from Betsy, born of the fact that the love of her life had just been shot to death in a foreign country… and she got to see the HDTV report replay it over and over, and from different angles, with Trish Tilby's sensible news-anchor voice droning on about it in the background with all the passion of a door knob.

An hour later, Cable hung up the phone. He had been talking to his father about the chances of getting Warren's remains delivered home (bad to none) and the likelihood of their own conference resulting in the same kind of tragedy (very good). Scott, of course, was not one to coddle Nathan. He told him to attend the meeting, as he would definitely do in his place, but show as much caution as he would on a regular mission. He also asked him to get Betsy to stay behind. Maybe even leave Rogue with her.

Nathan walked into the living room of the safe house he and Dom were currently living in. He kneeled in front of Betsy, showing a rarely seen softer side. The tears were done, and she was staring out of the window, expressionless, her limp hands cradled in her lap. Rogue was still crying, and Dom took her aside to let Cable talk to Betsy alone. He placed one huge hand on her colder ones, and tried to get her to look at him. "I know how upset you are Betsy… and that's why I'm telling you to stay here. We can’t miss this meeting, because I don’t know when we are going to get another chance to do it. And those are Scott's orders… you are to stay here."

They had a three p.m. meeting under extremely similar circumstances that the one in Germany was about, only it was on a much larger scale. The Governor, leaders of the PHP, and various mutant representatives - Betsy and the others included - were scheduled to discuss the surrounding states apparent switchover to the PHP's ace-in-the-hole political agenda, the Mutant Registration and Reservation Policy that Oklahoma had been the first to adopt. Things were getting a little too close for comfort for the most liberal state in the nation. There were liable to be hundreds, even thousands of innocents in the streets outside of the Hilton they were meeting in, humans and mutants alike.

"You're in no shape for this, Bets. Just stay home. We'll take care of it."

Betsy looked at him, finally. Her red-rimmed eyes were now cold and unflinching. She swallowed hard. "When do we leave?" she asked quietly, and calmly.

"Betsy, please, I want you t-"

"I said, when do we leave?" Her voice was raised just enough for him to realize that she was doing what she wanted to do, and that was that.

Cable sighed. They packed up for the day trip to Los Angeles, Betsy in tow. He caught Rogue holding her hand part of the way up, but for the most part she was silent and contemplative.

Never one to see the point of drowning in her sorrows, the ninja in Betsy took over and won out. Her companions just hoped that the revenge in the ninja would stay in check until the conference was completely over.

***

"Do you s'pose de petite knows 'bout Warren?"

Remy sank into a giant leather chair in the Professor's study. He took the offered Brandy and sipped on it. Charles sighed, he was still very upset about Angel. Losing someone was hard enough, but when it was one of his original students, it was heartbreaking.

"I do not know, she has not contacted me once since she left for Canada. That was several months ago."

"We shared a vid link when she was on de boat to Russia. Dat was just over a month ago. An' dat was the last time."

Charles eyed him. Remy was as impossible to read as ever. "Are you worried about Jubilee, Gambit?"

"Non… Not really. She was not goin' to a very upscale part of de neighborhood in Mongolia. An' I know she's probably too busy to check in. Dat's what we agreed on when she left."

Remy stared out the fancy glass windows, looking distinctly depressed. Charles smiled softly. "You may not be worried about her, but you miss her, Remy."

"Remy don' make it too hard to see dat, non?" he grinned. "I know she got to do what she t'ink is right. She likes to feel useful. But I wish…"

He looked down, and fingered the crystal tumbler. Charles rubbed his upper lip, watching the Cajun's expressions.

"What is it, Remy? What do you wish?"

Remy shook his head, smiling. "I just wish dat she din' have to get so damn useful on de other side of de planet. Not wit de way t'ings be goin' for us right now."

"She is a very capable woman… highly resourceful. I have confidence in her abilities. She needs to ask for help sooner than she does at times, but she is learning. I think the great distance from you and the current mutant situation will help her learn that lesson quicker."

"De petite only stubborn 'bout dat because some people 'roun here refuse to let her grow up," Remy countered, a wistful look in his dark red eyes.

Charles grinned softly. "Logan certainly let her grow up."

Remy chuckled. "'Let 'er'? Mon Professeur… dat was downright suggestif… Non, make dat scandalous of you."

Charles returned the laugh. "I have eyes, Remy. She is quite lovely."

"Yeah, an' she like de older guys, too! You figure you gon' to steal her 'way from de Wolverine?"

"Anything is possible," Charles said quietly, sipping his brandy.

"Well… Just 'member dis one t'ing, mon ami… You got to have permission from me, de over-protective frère, to date her."

The Professor shook his head, smiling, and sighed. "I would not dream of it, Remy. The thought of fighting Logan for her affections does not appeal to me."

Remy took another sip, contemplating her situation again. "Chances are she won' find out 'bout Warren too soon. But I bet when she does, Remy gon' to hear from her right off."

Charles smiled sadly, raising his glass to the Cajun. "Until then?"

"Oui. De chere gon to do good t'ings where she's at. Den she gon to come home, an' den…" he cleared his throat, "Gambit gon' to nail her feet to de floor."

The professor laughed outright, then they finished their brandies.

***

You damn fool.

Walking down a hall to a makeshift lab, Jubilee silently cursed herself and fingered the inhibitor collar again. It was still too tight for comfort. She could breathe, but not easily. And with it on, she had no way of attempting to contact Charles telepathically. No matter how weak her signal, and how dependent she was on the Professor actually picking it up and strengthening it… that had been her last hope in this situation.

They took away her knife, the one Remy had given her. She was superbly pissed about that.

She felt her belly rumble. She was positive she was pregnant, but it was advancing so quickly that she was frightened. She was already past the morning sickness and into the eat-everything-in-sight phase. Not that there was much to eat in her sights, but she ate whatever they brought her. She was beginning to show.

The PHP had moved her into her newer, brightly lit, nearly all-metal cell. There were no windows, just one light fixture on the ceiling, and a metal toilet in one corner. It didn't have a back, or a flushing handle, or even a seat - and to pass the time, she cursed every man she knew as she sat on it with her skinny ass nearly falling into the cold, large opening. It flushed automatically, every twenty minutes, twenty-four, seven. If anything, that was driving her crazy.

'They' came in one day, and shut the metal door behind them. Blue Lab Coat man was not there, he was with the other group - the one that had taken Susie away. These folks were PHP, pure and simple. And they had their own scientists.

Peach Lab Coat Woman stood between two armed PHP members. She pointed a remote control at Jubilee, The inhibitor collar beeped, and it popped open. Jubes sighed, and her hands reached up to remove it, but each guard grabbed her tightly with one hand and pointed a gun at either temple with the other, and she froze. Peach Lab Coat stepped up and grasped the collar. "Hold it tight, gentlemen. This one has had physical training. It used to be a gymnast." She removed the collar and backed away. "Let it go."

The guards released her, and she immediately flew into a corner and tried to contact Charles, but got nothing, not even static. Their guns were still pointed at her, so she sulked where she was. Peach Lab Coat raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Xavier? It cannot hear you, pet. It's the room, you see. You can make those plasma bursts all you want after we leave, if you are trying to break out… but the walls are adamantium and they will not be damaged. The only thing you will accomplish is destroying the light fixtures and suffocating on the fumes from the melting plastic, or bursting the pipes to the toilet and drowning in your own sewage. So you may want to refrain from that." She brightened like a child with a new toy. "And that's not even the exciting part." She smiled down at Jubliee happily. "The best part is the psychic dampener. It's new, and very innovative! With your collar off, you powers are restored within the confines of this cell. But any form of telepathy will not escape the walls. So scream in your head all you want for the other insects like you. It will do you no good."

"Well… You just got it all figured out, ain't ya flatscanner?" Jubes slid down the wall and looked at her sarcastically.

"It would appear so, yes. You are a very important fixture in our cause. We want you to look healthy when we bring you back to Oklahoma for your trial. So your food will be better, and the inhibitor collar will be removed while you are in your cell for your comfort. You will have to wear it is outside of this room, of course."

"Sadist!" Jubilee screamed, "I'm pregnant! Don't you give a damn?!"

"About a mutant baby? No. Unless we get to abort it and use its corpse for medical research. And we'll want to let it progress further so that the research will be more rewarding."

Jubes' mouth fell open on reflex. They were beyond redemption. "You… You're not human. You're evil."

Peach Lab Coat's blank smile faded. "Maybe it should have thought of what evil really is before it murdered Governor Pearson."

"I didn't murder anyone! He came after me! I defended myself and my family!"

"You have no rights. Therefore, you have no reason to defend yourself. It doesn't matter, your offspring will die with you when you are hung, and then you shall be dissected."

Jubilee shook her head and gave up. They had left her in the cell, backing out with their guns covering her, and slammed the door shut. The collar was off, so at least she could sleep a little easier.

The next day when she woke up, she saw that the nasty, infected cuts on her knees had healed over completely.

Now she was sitting in a med lab, with the collar back on. And more confused than ever before.

Since when did she have a healing factor?

***

Scott was like most of the rest of the men at the X-Mansion, in that he had no power to say 'no' to Natalie. She was a little seductress, and she knew how to turn on the charm. The only one that had the power of 'no', in fact, was the Beast. And that was because he took fatherhood seriously. So when he had left for the day to attend a conference in the city, there was no one there to protect Scott from her beautiful orange sunset eyes and her sweet, pleading voice. He found himself with the little girl, happily sitting in his arm, as they made sundaes in the kitchen. Anything was better than dwelling on Angel's death, and Scott needed a distraction that was better than the whiskey bottle he was tempting himself with.

"No! Not nuts! That's yucky!"

"Yucky? Don't you like peanuts, Nat?" She scrunched up her mouth and made the same face as when Henry made her eat her green beans. "Okay," he laughed, "So no nuts. What do you like?"

"Is it cha'clate ice cream?"

"Yep. And vanilla, side by side, see?" He turned the bowl and showed her.

"Kay. Then we put peanut butter on the cha'clate side and fudge on the banilla side." She stuck out her tongue and licked her lips.

"Peanut butter? Are you serious?"

"Uh huh, Jubie put it in the microwave for me, 'ceptin the microwave was busted so she really just pathed it and tol me it was microwavded. But I saw the fire balls."

"Oh, I see… so it gets all warm and gooey?"

"Uh huh," she said again, clutching his shirt sleeve as he leaned over and got the peanut butter and the hot fudge sauce out of the fridge.

Scott set her down on the counter as he placed the peanut butter in the microwave. Rogue came in with Paul and they sat down at the kitchen table to watch the gourmet chefs in action. "Make us some too, huh?" Rogue said, her jaw cradled in her palms. Paul looked at her and mimicked her immediately.

Natalie hopped off the counter and walked over to the fridge, where the freezer was on the bottom. She pulled out the huge ice cream carton, and set it on the floor. Scott removed the peanut butter and put the fudge in its place. He stirred up the goopy liquid in the jar and did the same with the fudge when it was done. He picked them up, and didn't notice Natalie dragging the ice cream across the floor, and collided with her. Before anyone could even move, Paul gasped, and flew in under Scott's falling body no more than an streak of orange, grabbed Natalie, and got her out of the way. Scott crashed down to the floor, warm peanut butter and fudge spread all over his chest, and the ice cream carton squished under his back. Rogue got wide eyed. She hadn't even seen Paul get up.

"Oh, jeez…" Scott muttered, "This feels really odd." Rogue giggled, and Natalie did too, but she stopped when Scott looked at her quickly. "Are you okay, Natalie?"

The twins both nodded their heads slowly. "Please don't yell, Uncle Scott. It was a accident," Paul said, still holding Natalie. The little girl's lower lip began to quiver.

He shook his head, trying to sit up with all the slippery goo everywhere. "Hey, hey now… it's okay, I'm not mad." Scott spoke softly to her. "Don't cry Nat. I know it was just an accident." He took a tentative step up, but slipped back to his knees again. Now it was on his jeans. Rogue laughed harder. He frowned at her.

"But Logan says that you yell when you get all messy in the danger bedroom!" Natalie yelped.

He laughed quietly at her words. "Logan says a lot of things, Nat. Doesn't mean he knows everything." He finally got to his feet and turned to look at Rogue. "Hey - how 'bout making yourself useful, Zeppo, and getting me a change of clothes from my room?"

"Sure thang, boss man," she said getting up and running upstairs.

Scott looked at the bowls on the counter, nearly melted. "Well, looks like sundaes are out. Want to go out for something else?" They both shook their heads 'no'. "Nat, I'm sorry honey, but I crushed the rest of the ice cream."

"I didn't really want any."

Scott looked down at her as they got to their feet. He didn't want to move because he was dripping with goo. His anal nature told him that the more he kept it on the tile, the easier the clean up would be. "You didn't? But why did you ask to make one with me then?"

"Aunt Rogue wanted one, and she said it would cheer you up if I asked you to make one with me."

Scott went to say something, then smiled, and nodded his head.

"Scott?" Paul asked quietly.

"Yes, Paul?"

"Is Uncle Warren's body really gone?"

Scott froze, and swallowed hard. He looked over at Nat, who was frowning again.

"I don’t wanna go away from grampa's yard ever again. An' I just want Jubie an' Logan an' Ni'crawler to come home. I don't want them ta get hurt like Uncle Warren."

***

Just as she was about to open the door to get a new shirt and pants for Scott, Rogue heard voices inside of Scott and Jean's bedroom. The door was cracked open. She didn't think anything of it, until she heard Jubilee's name mentioned.

Should Ah be that bad? They left the door open.

She simply stood there and listened for a bit.

"I thought you approved too, 'Ro…"

"I am happy for Logan, but I am not sure of the match. She is very young."

"They've been through a lot together. Their minds are made up, by now." Jean looked down, playing with the fringe on her bedspread.

"I do not know. It is still early, Jean. They have not even set a date for the marriage yet. There is very little commitment for either of them to get out of. Perhaps they will see it is a foolish relationship, and end it."

"Do you think they will be that smart?"

"Jubilee, no. She is little more than an infatuated young girl. But Logan? Yes, I think Logan will realize his mistake. She is a child, and despite her recent experiences, she knows nothing of the world. Sooner or later he will come to know that, and move on."

Rogue rolled her eyes and knocked the door. Jean blinked at Storm as she said, "Come in…"

Rogue popped her head in and smiled. "Um, Lord knows Ah don't wanna interrupt, but Scott lost another shirt and pants to the kids. He asked me to come up an' get 'im new ones so he doesn't get goop all over the place. Can ya grab 'em fo' me, Jean?"

She stood up quickly from where she had been sitting on the floor and entered the huge closet. Storm stayed on the bed in her full-lotus advice-giving position. She looked away from Rogue's incessant, probing half-smile for a moment.

"Well… what are you up to today, Rogue?"

She smiled more. "Well… earlier Ah was lookin' at weddin' stuff fo' Jubilee, Sugah. Dresses an' the like."

Storm blinked. "Do you think that's wise, seeing as how she is not even living at the mansion? And Logan may be in a lot of trouble where he is."

"S'matter, Stormy? Dontcha want Jubes an' Wolvie to get back all safe an' sound?"

Storm balked. And Jean was clearly taking more time than necessary just to find one damn pair of pants and a matching shirt.

"That isn't what I meant… I'm just mean, well… a wedding is probably the last thing on her mind. Right now."

Rogue smiled with saccharine at her again, letting the weather witch know just exactly what she had heard. "Oh… Ah doubt that. When Remy proposed ta me, it was all Ah could think about 'til Ah walked down the isle an' we made it official. Ah'm sure Jubes ain't no different, no matter how bad her situation is. Ah'm sure it crosses her mind at least once an hour." Storm raised one perfect, white eyebrow at her. Rogue shrugged mock-haplessly.

Jean finally came back in. She handed Scott's clothes to Rogue without a peep, and stood still as they watched her leave. Walking out the door, and making sure to shut it behind her with a secure click, Rogue smiled and shook her head.

Cripes, it's like some new-age justify-my-feelings seminar in there, gross! They're so much older and wiser, and they know what is best, blah blah blah… Gimme a freakin' break. Jean's just one big walkin' romance novel anymore. And when did Storm get so Goddamn holier-than-thou? Oh, wait a minute - she was always like that. Her bein' a Flamin' Goddess an' all.

She snickered at the thought, positive that Jubes would have blown a gasket had she heard it as well, and waltzed down stairs to the kitchen.

***

Peach Lab Coat removed a CD from a computer hard drive, setting it aside to be cataloged. She'd received a digital copy of Tilby's report on Warren's death from her contacts with the FOH, and she had just finished showing it to Jubilee while her technicians had finished a complete work up on her.

Jubes sat there on a metal exam table, oblivious to the fact that she was naked except for the collar. She was stunned. There was absolutely no reason they would have faked Warren's death, or a little riot in Germany. They had nothing to gain by it.

Her former teammate, her friend, Angel… he was gone. Her fiancé and Kurt were missing. She felt helpless.

Peach Lab Coat cleared her throat, noting with some amusement the lost look on Jubilee's face. She picked up a clipboard and sat across from the young woman, and proceeded to ask her some questions.

"Now you see how foolish it is to try and win your little war for equal rights. Who sired this baby?"

"Fuck you," Jubilee spat, unable to stop her tears from flowing.

Peach Lab Coat sighed. "Your pregnancy is advancing normally, only if you look at it from a proportionate angle. However, it is not within the realm of a human timetable. And, you appear to have limited but steady healing factor as well. We know that is not one of your original mutant… 'powers'." She curled her lip slightly. "Care to tell us where it came from?"

"I don’t got a fuckin' clue, you orange cow." Jubilee sniffed, and wiped her nose on her forearm.

Peach Lab Coat smiled tightly. "Okay. Just thought you may like to cooperate this time. I might have given you a pain killer, but I guess not."

She pointed to a few of the technicians, and they grabbed Jubilee and flipped her onto her back on the cold table. Rage overtook her and Jubilee began screaming at them. Not to stop, for she knew they wouldn’t… she just wanted to make sure they realized how much she hated them.

"Yes, that's right, hold it good. Now give me one of its hands." Peach Lab Coat spoke to her techies like Jubes wasn't even present anymore. She took out a pair of surgical pliers, and methodically broke three of Jubilee's fingers on her right hand. The small Asain woman screamed bloody murder, crying and spitting out her hatred for them.

"Take it back to its cell. Remove its collar, and leave it there unattended for an hour. Check to see if its fingers are still broken at that time."

They dragged her down the hall, ignoring her harsh words, and threw her back into her cell. Always keeping her at gunpoint, they removed her inhibitor collar and backed out, locking the door behind them. She found a hermetically sealed package on the floor next to the toilet, which had a new pair of hospital scrubs for her to put on. She swallowed hard at the pain in her broken fingers as she tried to open the package, but refused to make a noise. Every time she got injured, she thought about how Logan rarely even batted an eye at that and a whole lot worse, and had to do it way more often. It made her injuries seem trivial… it made the pain easier to put up with.

What happened to Warren was bothering her more than her fingers. The outside world was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to protect herself or her loved ones.

Jubilee opted to put the clothing on when her fingers were not throbbing so badly. So she lay down on the floor, curling up in a ball for warmth, and using the scrubs as a pillow. She faced the wall and let her silent tears fall.

She wondered if Susie was still alive. She prayed that Logan was okay. She put a hand to her stomach and asked God to allow her child to have a chance at living his or her – not 'its' - life.

And when she fell asleep, she dreamed about her wedding.

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