SUMMARY: Jubilee is back in North America - Canada to be exact where she plans staying at Logan's cabin for a few days before truly going home. Logan is at his cabin to "get away" and goes hunting. A new enemy briefly gives them grief causing harm enough to grab the X-Men's attention. Reunion time.

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NOTES: Any bordered by triple characters (e.g. |||) means telepathic speech. Each telepath has a different signature. Phrases bordered by parenthesis mean the person is speaking in Japanese. Phrases bordered by * are thoughts. Any questions see feedback for my email address and I'll answer as best as I can. Archive at will

The Shao Lung pulled into port under the power of three large tugboats. Her eyes ate up the closing shore hungrily. Jubilee stood entranced by the small Canadian fishing town as it became larger and more real. A heavy mist hung just above the water's surface adding to the dock's mysterious atmosphere. She couldn't quite remember its name but during her travels with Logan she'd visited the market place, just now coming into view, many times.

In the distance she could just make out the mountains with their ever-present blanket of snow even with the arrival of spring. They called to her. Impatiently she changed from her tank top and shorts to her body suit so that people wouldn't stare at her like some kind of circus attraction. *Now that's an idea...Nah not enough interesting people there*

Both katanas fitted neatly in her duffel bag, along with everything she currently possessed. Getting the bag through customs without raising eyebrows or getting her a stay in the penitentiary was another thing. Jubilee shivered, chilled nearly to the bone, the thin material of the body suit was no match for the spring breeze.

With duffel bag slung tightly across her back, Jubilee opened the door and stepped out into an empty hallway. After a few seconds a man appeared waving at her over to him. (Hurry Ms. Lee! If I am caught, my lord will send me to the four winds.)

(If we're caught, he'll have to stand in line Tadatsuke,) she implied and hoped he would remember that he owed her his life. He blushed slightly at the mild rebuke and led her through the maze of corridors, down two levels into the bowels of the freighter.

Two large, heavily muscled men bearing Yakuza tattoos sat cross-legged on the floor playing a game of Go. At the base of each neck was another tattoo, one that Jubilee had thought she'd never see again. These two had been the only one's spared from the destruction at the Hand estate.

Upon learning what brought on their Clan's demise Kintsuko, the one on the left, and Kenjii, the one the right had tracked her down. They had called her out at her first fight to exact vengeance or at least their dominance over her and were the only ones Jubilee had spared. They owed her their lives and neither one liked it.

(Leaving so soon "My Lord?") The tone in his voice it made it sound like "my whore". (Why don't you stay a while longer so we can get more acquainted?) Kintsuko suggested. His eyes ran up and down her body, almost as if taking inventory. The glint in his eyes held a dark knowledge of things that you wouldn't say in mixed company. He stood and walked up to Jubilee; the swagger to his gait that was meant to be seductive.

Jubilee fought hard not to laugh and lost. It echoed against the metal walls of the hull adding insult to injury. Anger bled into his eyes and stiffened his gait. He was standing so zclose to Jubilee now, she could have kissed him by tilting her head forward.

Her lips hovered dangerously close to his as she spoke in a low deadly calm tone. (You call me 'my lord' again and I will personally rip these off and shove them so far up your ass you'll be able to gargle them) At that she grabbed his crotch in a vise grip, nails grating against the tough fabric of his jeans.

Tadatsuke started to warn her about Kenjii, but he should have known better. Her left leg shot backwards in a low snap kick and connected with Kenjii's knee. There was an audible pop and he collapsed to the ground clutching at his knee. He gave one sharp hiss, manfully holding back a shriek of pain and stared at Jubilee's back.

His hatred was almost tangible, making Jubilee's spine twitch. She released Kintsuko before she was tempted to do permanent damage or worse and made her way back to Tadatsuke.

(Now if we are done playing 'who's the boss', get the gear. I'm almost out of time.)

(What a shame, if you get stuck here huh?) Kenjii wheezed and began pressing points in his leg to deaden the pain. Tadatsuke came forward and handed the uninjured half of the dynamic duo a crowbar, motioning toward the large crates shoved into the far corner.

Kintsuko took the bar but seemed glued to the floorboards. Something flickered across his face so fast Jubilee thought she'd dreamt it. (Don't even think about it) she warned, just in case.

His expression went totally blank but the side of his jaw danced with contained fury. Blowing out harshly through his nose, Kintsuko applied the crowbar to the first crate, anger fueling his strength well.

In record time he'd unpacked her newly acquired Harley Davidson. Chrome, leather and a saddlebag full of fake Ids, the American dream. The second, smaller crate was unpacked and its contents placed in the saddlebags. She had enough food and water for the 3-day journey to Wolvy's cabin.

Thinking about him sent a stabbing pain through her heart. She missed her family but of all the X-Men, it was him she missed the most. *He's also gonna flip when he sees my new ride, not to mention the entire makeover the Hand gave me* she supposed. Her train of though was broken by three loud blasts from the freighter's foghorns signaling its arrival.

Both men started to remove a pile of small boxes from against the hull uncovering a control panel. Tadatsuke punched in a series of numbers and put his thumb against the green part of the panel. It hummed softly and beeped once. (Clear) it said and broke the seal. A cargo door appeared allowing daylight and sea spray to filter into the cargo hold. One of the tugboats waited outside until the door was firmly fastened to their stern.

The captain waved to Tadatsuke who then waved to Jubilee. It was now or never as one of the Harbor Patrol boats began to make its rounds. She pushed her Harley across the hold door following one of the deckhands into a secret hold in the tugboat. She resurfaced to say her farewells.

(I will not forget what you've done for me. I release you from your debt to me Tadatsuke and take care) she yelled and bowed.

(I'd serve you no matter what my little dragon, but you must get going) he yelled back and couldn't help smiling.

Jubilee laughed and shook her head. (You do know you're the only one who'll be able to call me that. Keep an eye on those two for me okay)

(I will, now go) he urged and hit the release button. The hold door groaned as it pulled away from the tugboat. He had enough time to see her duck back into the secret hold before it shut completely.

A single candle flickered in the corner of the small room. Her Harley took up most of the space but there was no way she would leave it behind. As a precaution she strapped it down and settled in next to it. Alone with her memories, Jubilee began to replay four years of past events. When they got too intense she turned her mind to the plan at hand. In eight hours she could emerge and be on her way, customs-free.

******

Dawn broke, crisp and chilly, as if winter didn't want to yield to spring. The sun slowly peaked over the tops of the trees surrounding the secluded parking lot. Emily waited in her rented SUV for her contact to arrive and fervently hoped that three days of negotiating hadn't gone to waste. He was late but she desperately needed what he had to offer. Bored, she turned up the heater and pressed play on the tape player.

Even though this was the second time listening to the tapes, her father's voice still sounded so strange to her. It was young, vibrant and held an air of superiority as he described the adamantium bonding process. She had gotten entirely too used to his raspy, querulous, often quarrelsome tones that it was a stretch to think of him as being young. But she loved him with the devotion of a dutiful daughter and missed him greatly.

Fury clouded her vision briefly, tightening her shoulders. She didn't even realize just how hard she was gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles began to turn white. Sighing heavily she forced herself to relax her finger and hunched over to lessen the pain in her neck. Her father was dead, murdered by the man she was tracking.

His name was Logan, code name Wolverine. Another flash of anger fed her fury when she thought of him. Emily supposed that in his mind her father did worse than kill. He'd been tortured by the entire surgical procedure, the tape was now going over, but it didn't matter to her. He'd killed her father and there was hell to pay.

Several large files rubber banded to one tape a piece lay on the passenger seat. To prevent discovery or persecution by various authorities, her father had sent these records to an obscure safety deposit box this little fishing town in Canada.

A blue Ford Ranger pulled into the driveway and flashed its headlights. *Finally* Emily snorted and flashed her lights as well. The truck came to a slow stop a few feet away. Two men, who could only be described as body guards by the way they held themselves, vaulted out of the back of the truck and opened the cab doors.

Emily remained in her SUV while both the driver and passenger stepped out of the vehicle. The driver was relatively short, maybe 5'7". He had curly black hair that brushed his lean shoulders. His long sleeved, white dress shirt disappeared into very expensive looking gray slacks. Emily frowned when she noticed his boots. They ruined the whole ensemble.

The passenger on the other hand, had style. From his designer suit to his shoes, everything about him screamed 'I'm in charge'. His clothes however were not Emily's main concern. She wasn't even impressed by the rings encrusting both his hands. Her gazed fixated on the gun case held possessively between those hands. Tearing her eyes away from the case, she reached around her seat and snatched her briefcase.

One of the guards came over to her and held the door open. Emily slid out and accompanied him to the front of her SUV. The man in the suit joined them and placed the gun case on the hood. She looked at it hungrily and set her briefcase beside it. As if on cue they both opened their respective cases. One held shotgun shells, the other was filled with cash, U.S. currency.

"Two dozen shells at one-thousand apiece," he said in a heavy French accent. Emily simply nodded and pushed the briefcase closer for his inspection. While he counted his money, Emily examined one of the shells, noting the tips, very special tips.

"I trust everything is in order then?" the man in the suit asked after instructing the driver to place the briefcase in the truck. "Indulge my curiosity a moment Ms..."

"Emily. What is it?" She tried not to sound too abrupt but she was anxious to leave. There were things she needed to take care of.

"What in the world would a little fille like yourself be needing special ammunition like this?"

An evil smile stole across her face. She hauled the gun case off the hood and stored it in the trunk. The smile still hadn't faded when she climbed into the driver's seat and rolled down the window. "Hunting, dear sir, hunting special prey," she called and sped off.

******

Wolverine grumbled softly to himself. For the past three days nothing short of hacking trees to bits could take dull the pain, if only briefly. He usually came up to this cabin to "get away" from it all but it doesn't help when the problem came with him. His stomach growled to be fed, distracting him from his current chain of thought. There were provisions in the cupboards but Logan had a different idea.

Wolverine rose from his battered couch and sniffed at the air. *Perfect day for hunting* The wind blew with the force of a sigh and the sky was turning a crystal clear blue. Inhaling the scents of the forest elicited more memories. The burning edge of his beast hung over his head like an annoying cloud. He could feel himself losing it.

Logan broke into a full run turning his head this way and that to pickup the scent of a herd of deer he knew to be in the area. Slowly, he slipped further into his beast, perception narrowing down to a fine line. While he was hunting there was no such thing as memories. The hunt took away all reminders of "her" and replaced it with an intense need to fill his empty stomach with warm, raw flesh.

One hour of tracking put him within striking distance of the herd. Wolverine crouched in a stand of bushes on the outskirts of the large meadow. Most of the does with fawn grazed in the center. He wasn't after one of them, no challenge at all. Ahead of him large buck shifted uneasily. From time to time it would jerk its head up to check its surroundings, then cautiously lower its head to resume grazing.

More members of the herd began to shift nervously as if scenting trouble. Wolverine knew he wasn't the source that was spooking the deer, he was downwind. Suddenly he caught a brand new scent coming from upwind. She, by undertones of perfume that he tagged, was about 100 yards away. He could smell gun oil but decided that she was just another hunter who had no idea what she was doing. Being upwind like that won't get you fed. His beast finally took over and overrode ever reservation he had about the newcomer. He turned his full attention to the buck and readied himself for the pounce.

In a blinding flash of movement Wolverine let out a guttural scream, unsheathed his claws, and downed the buck while the rest of the herd bolted. Antlers gouged into his side and raked across his chest. Ignoring the pain he grabbed both sets of antler twisting violently. The animal finally lay still, blood oozing out of six holes in its throat.

Hot warm blood spattered across his face. Nothing mattered now except satisfying his hunger. He settled down to his feast focusing all his senses on the task.

******

Crouched in the shadow of a huge sequoia, Emily shifted her backpack and shrugged it off her shoulders. Sweat stained her shirt and dripped into her eyes. She batted at her face, screaming inwardly at her discomfort. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed and flattened herself against the tree to avoid getting trampled by a hundred head of deer.

When the dust finally settled, Emily breathed a sigh of relief and checked her bearings. Leaving the relative safety of the sequoias' shadow, Emily edged closer to Logan to get a good shot.

Emily smiled and adjusted the sight on her scope. *He should be and easy target now* she mused and fired. Her first bullet caught him through his right shoulder. *Great he moved. One bullet down and now he's onto me. Shit, shit, shit. Now he's heading straight for me!!!*

Out of sheer desperation she kept firing. Each bullet that managed to lodge into his adamantium skeleton reacted with her "special" tips, allowing the mercury to spread quickly. Wolverine collapsed, his right thigh muscles badly shredded. They should have started to heal but the mercury was interfering with his healing factor. Pain sang in every nerve making it difficult to get his bearings. Blood ran from his arms, face, neck, and back. Finally he lay still, barely breathing.

Emily crowed her triumph and ran the short distance that separated her from her trophy. *Daddy was right. Mercury messes with his healing factor. There's no way that he could have survived that much* she thought and butted Logan's shoulder with the barrel of her shotgun. Her eyes widened in mild shock when she realized he was still breathing.

Quickly she dove into her rear pants pocket for the last bullet, reloaded, and took aim at Logan's temple. Slowly she pulled back the hammer wanting to savor the sight. A high pitched growl, from directly behind, rose the hairs on Emily's arms. Fear filled her stomach like ice water but she did have one bullet left.

"Turn around," the voice spat, then returned to growling.

Emily did as she was told resting her shotgun casually on her shoulder. She faced an oriental woman with black, silky hair. The corners of her mouth were pulled back in a feral grimace. Their eyes met and Emily could feel her anger, black and deadly. She tightened her grip on the shotgun as she searched the other for any sign of weapons.

"What are ya going to do about it, Chin! You have nothing!" Emily screamed, sighted her shotgun and fired.

With surprising speed the woman dove into the surrounding bush. Emily tried to follow but the bush suddenly exploded into flames. She jumped back as the flames flared, intensified, then died as suddenly as they started.

For moments Emily stared trying to make sense out of what she had seen. Shaking off the paralysis of fear, Emily unsheathed her spine knife and made her way back to Wolverine to finish the job. The air around her crackled in warning, then exploded with deadly force sending Emily crashing into a sequoia. Dazed but determined to claim Logan's head, Emily crawled toward her backpack where a crossbow lay loaded and ready.

*****

An almost ghostlike figure ran through the bush and burst out into the open inches away from him. Wolverine tossed his head to clear blood from his eyes. Unable to defend himself Wolverine feigned unconsciousness.

Prepared for anything he almost jumped as a cool hand touched his cheek with feather-like softness. Puzzled Wolverine took in her scent and rolled it around his tongue. It was familiar yet he couldn't place it. The coolness left his cheek as he heard light footsteps moving away. Cautiously he lifted head and managed to push himself onto one elbow. Movement brought waves of nausea but Wolverine pushed them aside.

Out of nowhere his attacker barreled into his would-be savior and struck the black-haired woman across the back with the butt of a crossbow. She flew face forward into the ground. From what he could see the black-haired woman wasn't moving. His attacker took aim at the woman's head, inching closer. The woman came to life and swept the legs from under his attacker. Still determined to win, his attacker tried to shoot the woman from a nearly prone position. The arrow disintegrated in mid-flight.

"Not now not ever!" black-haired woman screamed and pointed both hands palm up at his attacker. Light danced at the woman's fingertips and highlighted her features. Wolverine still could not place the face but some distant memory began to nag him.

The woman cast the gathered light towards his attacker. The air boiled and crackled, his attacker's head incinerated. Startled, Wolverine gasped, distracting the woman. Blood scent was heavy in the air as she approached him. It threatened to drown him.

Wolverine tossed his head to sort through the scents and tried to prepare himself for a possible assault. The ground seemed too intangible. Blackness overtook him as those cool hands returned with their curious scent and feather-like touch. The last thing he heard was his name screamed through tears.

******

*Something's wrong* Jubilee cautioned herself. *His healing factor should be closing the incisions almost as soon as I make them* At each incision Jubilee slipped her fingers in until she felt the bullet. Only complete concentration allowed her to detonate the mercury bullets at the sub-atomic level.

Extreme care was needed. She had to absorb and re-channel the energy. If she slipped she could detonate too fast or accidentally split an atom flattening everything for a two-hundred-mile radius. She would never let loose like that again.

It took her over three hours to get all the bullets out. A tube ran from her arm to Logan's. A while back Professor Charles Xavier had accepted her into his family at the School for Gifted Youngsters. Every six months students were required to take a physical. Dr. Moira MacTaggert was carrying on about how rare her blood type was and how small their world had indeed become.

"It seems ye and Wolverine are AB negative..." she continued.

As the memory faded Jubilee checked the tubes to make sure blood was flowing correctly. When the last bullet was gone she pinched the end of the tubing connected to Wolverine and deftly pulled it out. Using her abilities to such fine acuity taxed her failing strength; Emily's last bullet had caught her in the right leg.

*Something is definitely wrong. So dizzy... should not be that way... * Jubilee collapsed across Logan's chest. Although she was a mutant, mercury had the same affect on her as it did with normal humans. It was poisoning her.

Hours later she awoke, fevered and weak. Wolverine remained unconscious, his wounds just beginning to show signs of healing. Jubilee called on three years of hardship with the Hand, fought down the nausea and pain of the poisoning, and checked Logan. Ignoring the burning fever that sapped her strength she forced him to drink some deer broth.

She sustained herself on water and dried meat, changing her own bandages when she thought of them. By the end of the day her water supply dwindled. Jubilee grabbed a bucket and stumbled out the door. It banged shut.

Wolverine flinched at the sound. Now fully awake he stared at a bare wood ceiling of his cabin. His eyes felt glazed over. *Fever* he thought, a sure sign his healing factor had kicked into overdrive. Memories of past events danced through his weakened mind. Glimpses of his childhood taunted and changed into the nightmares of his early adult life. Scenes meshed together then faded as he tried to recall what had gone wrong.

The scents in the room threatened to overwhelm him as his body became more and more responsive to his commands. Old and fresh blood scents hung in layers. One scent brought a vision of black silk and cool feathers. Frustrated, he delved into his scattered memories. Not black silk but black hair and cool hands not feathers.

Like lightning a face flashed across his eyes, someone very dear to him, whom he thought he lost four years ago. Again he shook his addled head. *She would, at most, be seventeen. NOT a grown woman but the scent is so much like hers. It even tastes older*

Deep in thought Wolverine did not notice Jubilee's return. Not until she knelt beside his bed and touched her nose to his did he even see her. Tears pressed at the back of his eyes as she gave him the greeting only they had known all those years ago. Her tears fell on his cheeks. For moments neither could speak, then Wolverine found his voice.

"They wanted me to believe you were dead," he whispered and sat up carefully. Jubilee wiped her tears away hastily and shook her head spilling her waist length hair around her.

"And leave you with all the fun? Not hardly," she chided.

Wolverine laughed and knew it was definitely Jubilee. He had so many questions as he searched her face for answers. She looked tired, her frowning eyes dull. For a moment he saw pain but it was swept away, replaced by mock anger.

"Who said you could sit up?" she scolded and shoved him back down gently.

His skin burned where she had touched him. He caught her wrists and held her over him. Although fevered, Wolverine could feel the searing heat of Jubilee's hands. He glared at her, then scanned her body for the wound. His eyes fell on the blood stained rag wrapped around her right thigh, then flicked to the table where her makeshift transfusion equipment lay. Rage surged through every nerve as he grabbed her arms and stood up abruptly.

"Do you want to die? I would hate you forever if you died doing something stupid." Again his eyes stung with tears. Wolverine swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. "I lost you once. I couldn't lose you again. Need I remind you that although severely injured, I can handle blood loss, you can not!" He punctuated every word with a tiny shake.

The room swam suddenly and gray spots danced across his vision. The ground rose up, yanking itself out from under his feet. He had moved too fast, adrenaline masking his weakened strength. Wolverine fell backwards unable to react quickly enough to release Jubilee. They crashed heavily into the solid oak headboard. It cracked nearly end to end.

Wolverine screamed; the impact had sent Jubilee into Wolverine with so much force; it reopened most of his stitches. Jubilee didn't have time to scream. Although Wolverine had taken the brunt of the fall, she couldn't maneuver her leg out of the way. The wound ground into the edge of the bed frame. For a moment, the world went red. Her hands convulsed digging nails into Logan's shoulders. Despite overwhelming pain, she worried about how hard she'd fallen on Logan before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Wolverine fought the urge to vomit and moved his head slightly to examine Jubilee's leg. It was swollen but he couldn't get a clear view. Her blue bodysuit covered her from neck to toe; the right leg was soaked with blood until it was purple from thigh to foot.

Fear sank his heart to the pit of his stomach. He knew his injuries were too severe for him to have enough strength to pick her up and take her back to the mansion. Helpless, he called out to the one person who may hear his plea in a single, chi-driven thought. JEAN

*****

"You mean to tell me you have no idea where he has been?" Scott stared down at his wife. Carefully he studied her expression, searching for any hint of deception, then remembered his wife was a telepath. There was no use hiding his suspicion. She would know anyway that he doubted her.

|||Why don't you just say what is on your mind. Your broadcasting them loud enough that I can't tune you out||| Jean's comment cut through his mind. It was punishment enough for what he had been thinking.

When it came to Wolverine and the history the three of them shared, Scott couldn't help himself. Even marriage didn't deter Wolverine from making passes at Jean. He had thought that had ended with Jubilee occupying most of Logan's attention. When she disappeared, Wolverine became impossible, taking out his pain on everyone. He renewed his efforts to steal Jean from Scott.

Anger clouded his thoughts. Again Jean cut in. |||Love, you will get nowhere with that chain of thought. Calm down and clear your mind. That's it. Yes Wolverine will always hold a special place in my heart but he will never replace you|||

"Now that you are more rational to speak to, Wolverine has been gone for days. His outings are not a new thing. Why the concern?" Jean had never seen her husband like this.

"I don't know. Something seems very wrong and I can't pinpoint it. It's like a storm building but nothing that can be seen or smelled or touched. I feel it in here," Scott finished rubbing his temples.

"Scott, I'm a telepath. Don't you think I'd know when something is wrong on the astral plane?" Jean paused to scan. "See there's nothing..." Her face blanked, wiped clean of expression. Only her eyes registered shock as waves of pain from the astral plane railroaded her mind.

"The pain!" Jean screamed over and over. It was echoed as Charles Xavier spilled out of his aero-chair into the hallway. Further down the hallway Betsy Braddock also fell to the ground clutching her head. Every telepath in the mansion was reacting to the astral backlash. Scott could only sense a little through his link with Jean. He rushed down to the War Room.

Cerebro's alarms blared and the heads-up display flashed two mutant signatures, Jubilee's and Logan's. *Jubilee!!! She's alive!?* Scott thought not quite believing his eyes. Another alarm added its voice to the chaos when "Code blue" began to flash over each signature. Map coordinates followed.

Scott's fingers flew over keys not wanting to think that they had found her only to bury her. Soon a more detailed map overlapped the signatures. He transmitted the map into the Blackbird's database and initiated launch preparations. Other members joined him. Everyone was briefed en-route as the Blackbird took off silently from its secret hangar deep in the cliff and disappeared into the horizon.

****

It was so hot Wolverine had to fight to remain awake. He had managed to scoot out from under Jubilee and lay beside her on the bed. She was mumbling incoherently then quieted when Wolverine pulled her against him.

A low noise brought his attention to the front door. Two amber pairs of eyes stared through the screen. *No! A wolf pack. Team ya'd better get here quick*

They milled about the front door snapping at the air in front of the screen. One finally took a running leap, crashing through the screen. The other five padded in and fanned out into the room. Above all the snarling, growling, howls and yips Wolverine thought he heard voices.

He quickly turned his attention back to the lead wolf now only a few feet from him. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, a steady growl issued from low in its throat. Suddenly the head lowered, shoulders bunched as the wolf launched itself at them.

Wolverine struggled to cover Jubilee's body with his; she was about his height now. He waited for that first sensation of tearing muscle and bones breaking, but it never came. The spitting and snarling wolf hung suspended mid-air. A sudden gale force wind swept the rest of the pack away, then vanished. Jean's telekinetic shield sent the alpha after its pack-mates. Wolverine simply stared, so relieved he was speechless for a moment.

"Knew you'd hear me Jeanie," he said but it came out as a whisper.

"Told you, you should have come with us. What happened?" He drew in a breath to answer her but couldn't keep his eyes open. She laid her fingers across his lips. "Shh Logan, it can wait. Sleep. Moira over here and hurry! Don't either of you leave us, you hear?"

*I hear you just fine Jeanie. Thanks* she heard him think just before he lost consciousness. She was shaking her head and laughing just as Moira came beside the bed.

"'Tis not the time to be laughin'," Moira scolded as she examined her patients. "What's so funny anyway?"

Jean smiled and gripped Moira's shoulder to reassure the doctor that she wasn't crazy. "Moira I know, I know. It's just that even in his state he had to have the last word," she giggled although tears streamed down her cheeks. Jean composed herself but struggled with her next question. "Will they...live?"

"Ach, lass dinnae fret so, though I will not lie to ye. Although Wolverine will simply sleep himself to health, Jubilee is very close to death. Quickly, levitate her to the Blackbird.

Carefully Jean enveloped the young woman in a shield, then extended it to cover Wolverine as well. Scott was ready, surgical unit and stasis pods were prepped and ready to receive their wards. Moira secured Wolverine in one of the pods, placing a breathing mask over his nose and mouth. She connected the air tubes to a harness that kept him upright and slid the glass door shut. In moments the pod filled with pseudo-amniotic fluid.

Computer readouts flashed on the surrounding consoles monitoring vital signs. One in particular caught the doctor's attention. Moira glanced back at the unconscious woman, then replayed Cerebro's initial warning. The signatures were identical, the descriptions, however, were far from it. Her speculations would have to wait.

Moira kicked everyone out of the Blackbird. She would have to move quickly and needed freedom of movement. Using a mini scalpel she cut away the bloodsoaked fabric on Jubilee's right leg. Angry red line spread around the infected wound like a spider-web a sign of blood poisoning. Her first priority was to stop it. Shi'ar nano-technology was so advanced, they could be injected into a body and programmed to seek each individual mercury cell out and neutralize it. After three injections and about one hour, the swelling in Jubilee's leg began to lessen and the lines faded.

Moira relaxed but knew Jubilee had a longer battle ahead. Exhausted, she began to undress Jubilee for the stasis pod. She secured metal covering over vital areas of Jubilee's body and stood back while the tank filled. Horror filled her eyes when she recognized the dragon tattoo of the Hand. Scars criss-crossed all over her body, but never touched the tattoo.

*Guess they dinnae want to ruin it. Lookit the detail, it must have taken weeks to accomplish the depth of color and illusion of volume. Ach, poor lass. I can only image what ye went through*. Moira couldn't hold back her grief any longer. Her sobs called in the rest of the team.

"Moira! What is it? Did she..." Jean shook the weeping woman until she looked up at her. |||Surely you saved her or she wouldn't be in the pod.|||

"Yes, yes, I did, but look", Moira mumbled, voice thick with tears, and pointed. She couldn't face the pod.

Jean simply stared and sunk to her knees beside the doctor. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she tried to comfort the awful pain in her heart. |||Scott||| she called weakly, |||get us home.|||

*****

"LO-GAN! Will you wait?! You can't just barge in there! It's only been ten days!" Jean ran for a moment, then came to a breathless halt. At the rate he was going she'd never stop him in time.

Just before he disappeared around the corner, Jean captured Wolverine in a telekinetic field. His growl was so low and intense that it vibrated every bone in her body. Under any other circumstances, Jean would have backed away from that growl, but if he charged into the Intensive Care ward demanding answers, things might go from bad to worse.

Jubilee's condition was touch and go at best. Jean refused to let Wolverine add to an already tenable situation and glared at him.

|||What do you think you can do? She is in the best care possible. Forge pushed his mutant talent to the edge to invent that regeneration chamber. Moira has consulted with every doctor known to specialize in mutants. Let them do their jobs, Logan.|||

When she saw understanding chase anger from his dark eyes, she released him and backed away from the door. "Be with her. She needs you now more than ever. With you on her side, she'll win this battle. You'll see," she gripped his shoulder in sympathy and gently pushed him through the door.

Everything was either white or silver in the IC ward. Partition curtains were pushed back against the wall. Most of the furniture had been removed to make space for a completely redesigned stasis pod.

Three times the size of a normal pod, it dominated the ward, extending from floor to ceiling. Connection wires and tubes radiated, like a web, from the back, to disappear through panels in the wall. Computer consoles formed a semicircle in front. LCD monitors displayed her vital signs.

Her harness had been refitted with soft wetsuit material to prevent sores. It kept her upright but allowed her arms and legs to float. The original breathing mask was exchanged for a full diving helmet. Liquid Demerol added to the reformulated pseudo-amniotic fluid kept her unconscious.

Inches away from the glass Wolverine watched her breathing. He leaned forward, hands and forehead pressed against the glass, and listened to her heartbeat playing softly from an overhead speaker. The last vestiges of anger slowly bled to grief. He shut his burning eyes tight, but tears escaped and pooled on the ground. The harder he tried to stop the stronger his sobs became.

He clung to the pod and cried himself out. It was something he rarely allowed himself to do. Rage and violence he understood; confusion, despair, and grief were alien emotions. He would have rather face a hundred Hand ninjas than face his feelings.

Wolverine let out a short coughing laugh. Why did I think of them he wondered and glanced back up at Jubilee. She was staring at him, eyes impossibly wide. The EKG monitor beeped in time with her frantic heart as she thrashed her arms, straining against the harness. Every alarm went off at once.

"Warning! Ambient heat is rising. Molecular destabilization imminent," called over the PA system.

Moira was suddenly there, shouting over the alarms. "What is going on?"

He pulled Moira toward him and had to shout in her ear. "She's awake and not happy to be in the pod! She'll use her powers to incinerate the pod, fluid, harness, and if she's that scared, I believe the entire mansion!"

"Go get Leech. I'll handle the alarms." Moira pushed away from Logan, half-running, half-falling toward the control consoles. One by one the alarms cut off. Silence returned abruptly.

The pod began to glow white. Most of the fluid had evaporated, or disappeared, or incinerated, whatever along with the harness. Steam issued through holes that appeared in the double thick glass turning the IC ward hazy. Most of the glass had dissolved and Jubilee stepped through the opening casting off energy.

Anything the energy struck bubbled on the surface. Wild eyes, full of rage, darted around the room and settled on the Doctor. In an oddly casual gesture, Jubilee flung the energy at Moira who braced herself for the worst. It never reached her; the energy vanished leaving the air charged with static.

"You wanted to see Leech, Doctor?" Leech strode through the door; Wolverine followed not a second behind. Moira spared him a moment's glance, nodded, and quickly returned her attention to a very angry Jubilee.

The enraged woman leapt in the air. Wolverine snatched her from the air firmly holding onto her waist when she tried to reach around him to get to Leech. "Leech sorry, no hurt Leech, what did Leech do wrong?" He said huddled behind Logan's shoulder.

(No more cages!) Jubilee screamed but in the next breath she started to cry. (Please, don't put me back. I'll be a good girl, master.) At that she cuddled close to Wolverine like a cat, eager to please. Wolverine pried her away gently and lightly slapped her on one cheek. It was enough to bring her back to herself.

She jerked her arms out of Logan's hands, very much aware that she was naked, and shivered as it brought back intense memories. If she could have found the words, she'd have been able to explain her actions. Slowly she backed up to the nearest wall; her adrenaline-based strength gone as she slid to the floor, knees pulled in tight. Frustrated and tired she lay her head upon her knees and cried softly.

"Logan, what did she say?" Moira stared in amazement. She recognized the language by couldn't understand the words.

"Somethin' about cages and masters," he answered and moved in to cover her with a sheet but Moira waved him off.

"Let her cry, Logan. It's the best thing for her now. Watch over her, be here for her, but let her come to you," she instructed and ushered Leech out of the room.

******

Jubilee woke with a start and found herself surrounded by familiar walls. She lay back down and snuggled into the warmth and comfort of her old bed, unwilling to face the world just yet. Her body felt heavy and sore as if she'd been unconscious for a long time. Frowning slightly she realized that she was dressed.

The last thing she remembered was sitting naked on Medlab's floor. Someone - female she hoped - had gone through her duffel bag and put her thong underwear and halter-top on. The bag now lay empty on her high-backed, swivel chair across the room. *My swords* she screamed inwardly. Frantically she threw the covers aside and hopped to her feet scanning the room.

It really wasn't her fault. Jubilee had no way of knowing that her muscles wouldn't take too kindly to sudden movements. She lost her balance, but was saved from complete disgrace by automatic reflexes. She tucked her head down and rolled into the fall, no fighting, and ended flat on her back starting dazedly at the ceiling.

"I'm impressed darlin'" her couch growled approvingly at her. She turned her head to see the mound of blankets stir, two pitch-black points of hair peeked out of the top. Logan rolled to his feet and fixed her with a look she couldn't read. "That was fast thinking"

"Not fast enough. I shouldn't have fallen at all," she said with more heat than she meant and pushed up with her elbow to sitting position. (Shit, what's wrong with me?), she complained and edged toward the foot of the bed.

Logan didn't say anything for such a long time, Jubilee thought he'd gone back to sleep. She reached up and grabbed onto the bedpost. Taking a deep breath she hauled herself up and swore again in Japanese when she bumped into the bed frame.

(I heard that)

Jubilee started at the sound of his voice by her ear and felt his gentle breath on her neck. (I forgot you could understand me) she admitted and stepped away from him slowly. *Oh yeah, Jubilee-sama, fearless "lord" of the Hand can't even walk straight* she fumed and ambled her way around the room determined to find her swords.

"Lookin' fer somethin' darlin'? Yer old clothes are the closet." He told himself that he'd mentioned the clothes for her benefit. Truth was, it was for his. Although still unsteady on her feet, she moved with an innate sense of confidence on very long trim legs. In her new body, Jubilee was now three inches taller. Her hair hung like a black curtain of silk flowing down her back. The white halter-top strained to contain her chest when she bent down to look under the bed. Her tattoo danced hypnotically. When realized he was staring he averted his gaze and became very interested in the patterns in the carpet.

"Wasn't looking for them. Besides, they won't fit anymore. I'm okay with what I'm wearing. If anyone has a problem with it, tough." She stopped about a foot away from him and wondered what was so interesting about the carpet. "Where are my swords? I need to practice." Her stomach betrayed her by grumbling so loud, she thought the windows would break.

"You've been out for 11 days darlin'. Don't you think you should take it easy? Get reacquainted? Your "family" has missed you." He kept his face neutral and added, "I'VE missed you."

The rawness that spilled into his eyes made Jubilee's heart melt. In the reckless abandonment of her old self, Jubilee closed the distance between them and hugged him fiercely. She burrowed into his hair, inhaling deeply to steady her nerves. Overwhelmed she buried her face in the nape of his neck and surrendered to her tears.

Through alternating series of sniffling and hysterical bawling she recounted to him the events of the past four years, everything. From her capture and torture to her fight with Emily and her subsequent emergency surgery she performed on him.

"I...I've killed Wolvy. I fought against every order to kill, but when they...killed...my...baby...I..." she choked, crying so hard that she couldn't breathe momentarily. Logan drew her to the couch with him and cradled her in his lap, concern overriding all other impulses.

"They're all gone. Anyone at the estate died that night. My powers saw to that. I'm not even sure how I escaped the explosion," she whispered after quieting down a bit and continued. "I killed for the money to get back to North America. The only kill I don't regret is Emily. She bought her death sentence when she came after you, but the rest..." she began to push against his firm hold, self-disgust evident on her face.

He resisted and made her look him in the eye. "Darlin' so you've killed. It is nothing to make light about but just remember one thing. You regret it; that's what makes the difference. That's what keeps you from becoming a sociopath."

Her stomach interrupted them again. Logan chuckled at her sheepish grin, pulled off his shirt and told her to put it on. "C'mon. Let's get you something to eat before you challenge Banshee for his codename with that stomach o' yours." He rose with her still in his arms.

Jubilee felt ridiculous. "I can walk y'know."

"Suit yourself." He set her down and strode out of the room.

"What about my swords?" she insisted and followed.

"Safe, and you'll get them all in good time." He offered his arm to her since she still seemed a little unsteady.

"But..."

They continued to argue as Logan guided her to the cafeteria. There were many people that were anxious to see her. He wondered if he should warn her but decided to let things happen naturally.