The Forgotten: Parts 1-2

by Verthril

Disclaimer : Marvel owns the X-men, I'm just borrowing them.

Thanks to Lateo for the title, as I couldn't think of one.

Remy sat on the street corner, looking out to the throngs of oblivious souls as they marched to the beat of capitalism. He knew there was a reason he liked this city, and that had been for the fact that with a little effort a life could be eked out. After knocking the fight out of Hammerhead, Remy had made more than enough enemies. But since that time he had too made some allies. A group of people who made him an offer he couldn't refuse, cash for what he loved best in life, the hustle. But instead of hustling for cash, he used his skills as their ears and eyes on the streets, getting information to help save the innocents the system failed or couldn't protect.

A year ago and Remy would have turned down their offer. Heck, a month ago he would have. He didn't need anyone to get by, he always managed to break even when they chips were down. Then she happened to him, a piece of innocence that he had long forgotten still existed in the world. A child lost to the mean streets and sought out by a killer. She had bumped into him after her parents had been killed, and had won his heart. But then she had been kidnapped and it took all his skill and courage to rescue her.

In the end he left her with friends, knowing it best not to bring her into the danger that would lurk within his shadow after taking down one of the underworlds prominent thugs. He had left Jersey and made his way to New York, hoping to lead away any danger that might lurk about him, away from an innocent child who deserved so much more. Sure enough the danger came knocking, but he was ready for them. The fight had been brief, yet devastating. And as the dust settled, they came knocking to make an offer. The offer was to make the streets safe so that no other innocents would be harmed. Lofty goals? Of course, but he was a gambler after all, and there was a reason they now called him Gambit.

From the throngs a man emerged, his very presence granting him passage through the mass as they unconsciously shied away from him. An eye patch covered his left eye, a scar visibly creeping out from under the covering. Tall, proud, muscular, and with a face that bore an expression that would cause shadows to slink away, he was only known as Bishop, for it was the only name he could ever remember. He had woken up in an alley a few years ago, with no recollection of who or where he was aside from his name. Memories flitted about his mind like ghosts, intangible and only wielding visions that would last but a heartbeat. They had found him, clothed him, and helped him. In return he gave them his loyalty, a deep sense of honor rising from his core from a forgotten time.

As Bishop walked up to Remy, the ever-present feeling of familiarity returned, but he shrugged it off. Remy smiled up to him, that wry grin, capable of melting any woman's heart, present as always. Remy offered him a cigarette, to which Bishop declined. Shrugging Remy light up and waited in silence until Bishop was finished with easing his paranoia.

"What have you found LeBeau?" Bishop inquired, not taking his eyes off the crowd as he kept a vigilant gaze on the masses.

"Eh? Nuttin' yet. Dey still don trust dis Cajun mon frere. But I be winning dem over soon. I'll find out were dey be bringing dat shipment of weapons by de full moon, and you be owing me a bottle of dat fine Brandy Worthington is always sipping." Remy remarked as he kept an appraising eye upon the crowd, picking out the beauties.

"I know the bet LeBeau. You deliver by the full moon and you'll have your Brandy. But for now just focus on the task at hand. You don't have to take a guess who those weapons are going to be sold to anymore than I do." Bishop remarked, flexing his hand in a nervous habit he could never explain.

"Oui, don need ta tell me twice. Silvermane only put a big enough wad of cash on my head fer what I did ta Hammerhead. Dese weapons get through, I won't be surprised if it comes back ta bite me if his thugs ever track me down, pointing dey guns at me." Remy remarked as raised his cigarette to his lips to take a deep haul from.

"Those things will kill you." Bishop commented as he looked to the smoke billowing from Remy's open mouth.

"Oui, so well 'aving my cover blown. Now get out of here before anything t'inks dere be anything fishy going on." Remy countered, flicking the half spent cigarette into the gutter.

With that, the two men vanished into the crowd, Bishop intent on returning to the shop while Remy intent on his latest conquest as he chased after some eye candy. And in the shadows, neither of the men noticed the watchful eyes from the half opened sewer lid, curiosity burning in them as they watched the men vanish. With a loud clang, the lid slammed down in a sudden movement as the figure vanished back into the sewers.

Jamie Madrox had been your average teenager three years ago. Average so long as he was not around his network he had created in his room, or any of the lovely gateways to the global phone network which the phone companies left lovingly about. At the tender age of fourteen, Jamie Madrox had taken on the identity of 'The Madri' online, treating the digital world as his oyster. Normal in every sense other than perhaps being one of the elite of the Hacking community, but then that one fateful day happened when he found out he was a Mutant.

He had been caught in a desperate fight with the FBI after pilfering a few files that a wealthy German business man had longed for, files that would clear his family name after a supposed espionage case in the fifties. Jamie had the files already burned and ready to be lost to the global snail mail network, but he had been found out. A turncoat hacker was working for the FBI, and he was good. Jamie was working as fast as he could merely to keep his digital identity hidden. Then it happened.

In a fit of rage and frustration as yet another assault on his home system launched, he slammed a fist against his head, and what happened next startled him. Next to him a perfect duplicate of himself stood, complete down to his favorite T- shirt. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he had the double work away on his one system at keeping the turncoat out. Curious, he slammed a fist against his chest, and behold, another double. That one set to work on cleaning his identity from the FBI systems. Freed of the stress, Jamie let an attack of his own upon the FBI systems, and it was one that left them wondering what hit them.

He had left soon after his manifestation, the trio of Jamie's being too peculiar in the small town where the sudden appearance of triplets would not go unnoticed. His parents gave him what money they could and bid farewell to their son. Leaving for New York, he created a life for his multiple selves working various jobs across the Internet as he had done so at home, though this time he charged a fee. Within time he had found out how to absorb the duplicates back into his self, but then he found of a complication.

Throughout his time separated into three selves, each self had it's own experiences and thus was becoming an individual from the core that was Jamie Madrox. As he became one once more, the three minds fought together for the sole body. Finally as the selves knew it could not be done, the separated back into their own selves. The one had become three forever more, and Jamie would forever now be known as 'The Madri'. This disruption of his self was not without it's rewards he found, for the three shared a link beyond that of psychic nature. If one were to fall, the consciousness would erupt from one of the three as a new duplicate. So long as one lived, all did.

"What have you found?" Warren asked from his seat at the desk, watching with mild amusement as the teenagers before him worked away at the network he had installed in his office.

"Well, aside from everything you expected, that being forged customs documents, bribes, etc, I found out the name of the ship on which the weapons are to be transported from the former Soviet Union." The Madri known as Cypher remarked.

"Miss January, you are looking fine." The Madri known as Pitch exclaimed, and quickly earned himself a glare from his employer for yet again succumbing to his hormones.

"Hey Boss, someone's running a worm on your network, siphoning off cash. You want I should eviscerate him?" The Madri known as Ninth Gate remarked.

"Do whatever you wish, just ensure the integrity of the security of this network and my own. Though I do thank you for bringing that to my attention." Warren replied as he reached down and opened the desk drawer that held his wet bar.

"I'd recognize that sound anywhere, can I get a scotch on the rocks?" Cypher inquired, his eyes glued to the screen of his station as he looked for more information on the weapons deal.

"Once you are done you may. For now though, you are on the clock." Warren replied, fixing himself a scotch on the rocks.

Warren Worthington the Third had been born to a wealthy family with old money. They had been nobility of the British Empire at one time, and that blue blood still ran in the veins of one who bore the name Worthington. But another thing ran in that blood too, for the latest heir to the fortune had a curious development around his fourteenth birthday. Wings slowly began to grow from his back. While he was able to hide them for the duration of his private school career, he had been forced to decline from the graduation ceremonies after another growth spurt of the wings.

His parents were alarmed to find their child had the wings of an angel, and had quickly taken him to a specialist. Amputation had first been considered, that being until the X-rays had return. His bones were hollow it was found out, and it appeared his cardiovascular system was far more enhanced. The decision was put to father and son of what to do. While his father was shocked and disgraced, he loved his son and would do what was in the best interest for the boy. After a week, the amputation of the wings was cancelled as father and son decided to learn to live with the mutation.

Working from behind the scenes of the Worthington Empire that was Worthington Tech, he found a niche as the unseen, but outspoken son of the President. He had brought the company into the forefront of the technological field, and had reaped the benefits when a contract came for the Mutant killing Sentinels. While it seemed to be rather a traitorous deed, it was never revealed that with a command by Warren that the Sentinels could be destroyed. It was an Ace in the hole that he would hold until true desperation came about, when the threat of Sentinels spread globally as he feared it would.

"Whoa, Mr. Worthington, I never knew you dated Miss February in your private school days?" Pitch remarked, still surfing the playboy website.

"It was a fling and nothing more. Two mutants looking for consolation in a world that hates and fears them." Warren replied in a tired voice, recalling those years of hiding.

"She's a mutant? Dang, care to introduce?" Pitch inquired, finally getting back to his assigned task.

"Yes, she is perfect in all ways, she was the love of my life in those years. But alas, Monet is lost to me now. She was married off to a wealthy Algerian financer to that she had fallen for." Warren replied, downing his scotch to ease the painful memories.

The Madri paused and looked back to their employer, looks of apology held in their eyes for the man who had brought them off the streets of New York, and to his company where they were the head of the networking security department. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the trio. They looked to one another, but then gave a shrug of defeat as they set to work on getting their claws out of the systems they had infiltrated. Finally with that, they left their employer in peace.

Outside the Mardi looked to one another, indecisive on what to do for their Friday evening. They had long since acquired false identification that would stand up to the most stringent tests, being as they hacked the DMV to have them made. Clubbing was always an option, so was visiting their friends and allies of the Cyber-community of New York. With a shrug they decided to head back to their apartment to figure out their plans.

She wandered through the crowd, lost to a strange people in a strange land. So Cal had been her home from birth, but she had to leave it after what had happened. It had been her graduation from High School, and she had been in the top of the class, having only been topped due to her friend pulling ahead of her. Defeat was never so easy to accept when the winner was a friend who apologized for a week straight. Sitting with the other's who had graduated in the top of the class, she watched with a proud smile as her friend gave her speech. But then everything went to hell.

From the ceiling a giant fist smashed through, pulling away at the roof the auditorium as several other fists smashed through. There before the Graduating class of Two Thousand and One, the Sentinels stood. With political fueled goals, the massacre began as they targeted those of the gathering who bore the mutant X-factor that separated them from humanity. With horror she watched as her parents screamed for her to join them, but their screams fell silent as a beam engulfed them, turning them into ash within a blink of the eye. She had lost everything that day.

Now she found herself lost on the streets of New York, a mutant who survived the Massacre of LA by some quirk of fate, orphaned on what was to be one of the most memorable days of her life, not the most horrific. Lost to the memories that still haunted her, she did not take notice of the lithe figure drawing near her from the crowd. Finally as he drew close, Jubilee took notice of the man in the well-tailored suite with eyes of Lucifer himself.

"Allo Chere, where you going dat Remy can't take you? Dis be no way for a lady to travel?" Remy remarked in a causal tone, giving a wave of his hand to the mass of people moving about them.

"Just, just leave me alone okay? I'm sure your just either trying to be a nice guy or trying to find a cheap screw, but right now I'm not interested in anyone bugging me." Jubilee replied with a heavy sigh.

Remy was taken back, his charm had never failed him with the ladies of New York before, but then he took note of the accent. Tilting his head, he looked to her and put on a genuine smile and took a step back.

"Just trying to be a nice guy. C'mon, if Remy can't take you where you're headed, can he at the very least buy you a cup of coffee? I know dis wonderful caf¡¦ down de street." Remy remarked, now concerned at what would weigh so heavy on such a beauty.

Jubilee looked to the man apparently called Remy with a hesitant gaze. She had been walking about town all day, and right about now a coffee would do her good. With a sigh she gave a nod, offering her hand to Remy who gallantly took it as he lead her off through the crowd. Several minutes later she found herself seated at what proved to be a wonderful little caf¡¦ with a lovely coffee in front of her. Across the table Remy enjoyed a bowl of soup after having missed his breakfast while working away on the task at hand.

"Sorry about calling you a pimp." Jubilee remarked, eyes down on the coffee.

Remy slowly looked up, a smile on his face as he took in the petite frame of the woman before him. Reaching across the table, he gave her hand a pat and then gently raised it up to her chin until her eyes met his.

"Tis forgotten chere. Now Remy going to ask ya a question, and ya don't have ta answer if ya don't want. But, what has such a tres belle fille like you so sad?" Remy asked with genuine interest and concern, which was noted by Jubilee as she looked into his eyes with her own bordering on tears.

With a quiver of her lip, Remy raised his hand to her cheek and gently brushed away at the first tear that had fallen from her sapphire eyes. Her face fell back to her coffee as she began to stir it, taking in heavy breaths as she fought to calm herself. Remy waited patiently to see if a reply would come. One did.

"I'm, I'm a mutant. So were my parents. They were killed in the LA massacre on my graduation day right before my eyes, yet they didn't even give me a second glance as they killed my classmates." Jubilee whispered out, careful to not let the words leave the table.

Remy felt his heart gripped by an icy hand, the memories of the footage shot in LA during the massacre by the Sentinels coming back to him. Before him stood a survivor, but the cost had been too great. While Remy had never known a stable home, which had lead to his life on the streets, he did know that there were actually parents who loved their children, and children who loved their parents as the little girl who he saved had.

"Shh, what say you and I find somewhere else ta go? Ya got a place ta stay?" Remy asked as he reached across and too her hand in his.

Jubilee looked up to him, hope lingering in her eyes, but overtaken with fear. Gently tugging on her hand, Remy let go as she pulled it away, pulling herself into a tight ball on the seat as she sipped away at her coffee.

"Why would you help me?" Jubilee asked as she looked to Remy cautiously.

With a slight tap on the napkin before him, Remy released the energy from within as it took to the air in a glow of violet energy. Looking to Jubilee, he knew he had shown her all that need be set. He slid out from his place at the table and walked off to a waiter and settled the bill.

Coming back, he helped Jubilee to her feet and left the caf¡¦for his downtown apartment. Jubilee silently thanked the fates for this fortune that had befallen her. Someone who truly seemed to care and understand what she had been through, and who wished to help. Remy hailed a cab as they neared the corner, and soon they were off, lost to the sea of yellow cabs that flowed through the streets of New York.

Chapter 2:

He awoke to the forceful pounding on his apartment door, after finally finding a somewhat comfortable position on the couch and nodding off. Looking to the clock on his DVD player, he could see it was only a quarter after five. Who would dare come knocking at this hour? Remy put his musings on hold, reaching for a fistful of cards that had been piled near the door. Taking a peek into the peephole, he found the imposing visage of Bishop standing there, with The Madri surrounding him. Opening the door, he let the charge dissipate.

Bishop stood guard at the door as The Madri settled into the apartment of Remy LeBeau, already rummaging about the room with various devices. Shaking his head, Remy went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, afterwards checking to make sure he had enough clean mugs for his friends and his guest. A scream broke the silence, as the Madri known as Pitch came flying out of the bedroom by a blanket-clad woman. With a resounding bang, the door was slammed shut.

"Yo! Rem, ya got some 'splainin' ta do my friend." Ninth Gate heckled, taking note of the blanket on the sofa and a woman in his room.

"Yeah, I mean, you got a perfectly good bed to use, with a perfectly hot chick in that bed, and you choose to sleep on the couch like a gentleman? Since when did you pick up any morals?" Cypher shot as he continued scanning about the telephone.

"Ow. I think I dislocated my shoulder. A new body will fix that." Pitch muttered, pounding on his chest as a double appeared, before his previous form faded into the new form.

"Forgot ta warn ya dat I have company. Coffee be ready in a couple minutes. Care ta tell me what de meaning of dis is? Don you t'ink it be a little bad for me cover to 'ave you all in my apartment?" Remy asked as he leaned against the sink, keeping out of the way.

"Cover's been blown. The envoy for Silvermane sent word to his boss and to the gunrunners. Next time you go there your going to be finding it hard to swim with as much lead as they were planning on pumping into you." Bishop explained, keeping watch on the halls and stairways of the building with a small laptop.

"Merde, t'anks for de warning. So, what be de plan now?" Remy asked as he looked to the door, noticing Jubilee emerging.

"G'morning P'tit, did you sleep well?" Remy asked, watching as she quickly made her way to him.

"Friends of yours?" Jubilee asked, looking over the room.

"Business associates, I be in de Private Investigation business, so to speak." He replied, giving a glance to the coffeepot.

"Ding Ding Ding! We have ourselves a winner. Remy, take your lady friend along with Bishop and Pitch outta here. Cyper and myself shall take care of this wonderful parting gift that Silvermane sent ya. Oh, and I'd run just in case." Ninth Gate called out, the original out of all The Madri.

Without so much as a word, Remy ushered Jubilee out the door, with Bishop taking point while Pitch took guard of their rear. With a couple punches of his chest, two more duplicates appeared, all armed with 9mm pistols. Rushing down the stairwells, the group soon made their way to the lobby. Pausing there for a moment as Bishop and one of the Pitch doubles checked out the street, Remy looked up to the monitor and could only grin at what he saw. Expecting to see him holding Jubilee closely, with Pitch and the remaining double left, ally he saw was his image holding air.

"Eh P'tit, did you ever wonder how de Sentinel didn't see ya?" Remy asked, looking down to the agitated woman, receiving a nod.

Raising her chin to look up into the monitor, a gasp was had by the young woman I his arms. Understanding crashed down upon her now with all the troubles she had been having. Automatic doors never opening, knowingly slipping through metal detectors with the knife she kept upon her person, and how she was so easily able to avoid any form of security. This revelation was put on hold as Bishop and the Pitch double returned, ushering them into van across the street.

"So, umm. You do know how to defuse it right? I mean, like, you did read something about bomb disposal since the last time we shared our combined knowledge about two weeks ago right? Because if you're thinking what I think your thinking, I already don't like your plan." Cypher remarked as he hunched over the bomb with his 'twin'.

"Relax, yeah. I was reading the 'Idiots Guide to Bomb Disposal' just last week." Ninth Gate remarked as he slowly opened the casing of the bomb that had been hidden in a heat vent.

"Please tell me that was a joke, because compared to you actually reading source material like that, I'd rather just go to our backup Plan B." Cypher said with a resigned sigh, handing the tools out of the small pouch as needed.

"Yes, that was a joke. I have no idea how to dispose of a bomb, but it can't be any harder hacking into the pentagon." Ninth Gate retorted, looking at the circuit board and trying to figure it out with his basic electronics knowledge.

"Dude, this is a different breed of machine, there isn't a port we can just jack into and hack the code." Cypher shot back, wiping his brow.

"Yak yak yak. Shut up for a minute while I concentrate." Ninth Gate shot back, following the circuit traces until finally he snipped a green wire.

"Warn me next time you go snipping anything, K? Umm, should it be beeping like that?" Cypher asked, looking to the red diode that was now flashing.

"Damned if I know. Umm, what now?" Ninth Gate inquired.

"I'd say bend over, put your head between your knees, then kiss your ass..." Cypher began, never finishing as an explosion rocked the apartment and sent a rain of glass down on the streets below.

Looking to his apartment, Remy LeBeau only could think of one thing as he saw the fireball engulf all his worldly possessions, namely his three-hundred-dollar coffee maker. Sighing, he looked over to Jubilee who stared dumbstruck at the falling glass and debris. In the back seat, the two doubles of the Madri known as Pitch suddenly took on the form of Ninth Gate and Cypher.

"...good-bye." Cypher finished, thereafter reaching past Pitch to punch his 'twin' squarely in the side of the head.

"K, next time I'll cut the red wire. Umm, Bish, lets get outta here before the cops come. I think it would be bad if regulars of Worthington Tech were seen at the site of a bombing." Ninth Gate said, leaning back in the seat and letting out a sigh of relief.

Bishop complied, heading off down an alleyway in the nondescript van. Looking to the rearview mirror and back to the woman next to LeBeau, a striking sense of familiarity struck him. A name surfaced of the ether, Jubilation Lee, the last. The last what he mused, returning his gaze to the road before him. He felt it was an answer he should know, but was hidden from him, akin to his past, even his real name for that matter. Reaching down to the floor, he picked up a paper bag and handed it to LeBeau.

"As per our bet." Bishop remarked from the front.

Opening the bag, Remy's eyes went wide as he found a bottle of that same fine Brandy Worthington was often found sipping. Looking up to Bishop, he could only see the faintest hint of emotion in the eyes that glanced back to him, a faint smirk nearly cracking his chiseled features. Just as he was about to inquire, Bishop cut him off.

"If Worthington didn't expect you to get the needed results, you wouldn't be working for us. Enjoy." Bishop said flatly, an attempt to rationalize a show of emotion in his hardened fa¡¦de.

Jubilee merely shrugged off the exchange, looking out the window as they turned back onto a main street, looking to the slumbering city and the multitude of souls either rising to greet the day, or lost to landscapes of their dreams. In their worst nightmares they would never have dreamt of huge robots bringing the end of their old life, and ushering in a new one in the ashes of the parents. Sighing, she found a strong arm pulling her into a tender embrace, comforting beyond any measure she had known. Letting her eyes drift shut, she joined the city in its slumber, perchance to dream of her old life, of her family and friends, and the future that laid beyond the doors now closed to her for merely being born a mutant.

Jubilee awoke to the scent of coffee in the air, and soft covers wrapped about her. Drawing her mind from the dreaming world, she found herself to be in an extravagant bedroom, resting upon a King sized bed. Looking about, she took in the details of the room. Reaching to the ceiling, windows sat at the far side of the room, looking out to the city below. At the far side of the room, a door stood open a crack as steam billowed free, with the sound of shower pattering against tile. Next to her sat a coffee service upon a cart, with a tray sat covered. Sliding over in the bed she lifted the cover up, to find a breakfast of bacon, eggs and pancakes sitting there.

Suddenly the shower stopped, followed by the wet slapping of feet against tile. After a moment, Remy stepped out in a bathrobe, with a towel thrown over his shoulders. His eyes locked with her own, and a grin spread across his features.

"I 'ad breakfast brought up. Just somet'ing simple. Oh, some clothing is to be brought up shortly, so if you want to grab a shower after you eat, you can den slip into some fresh clothing." Remy explained, taking a seat next to her on the bed and fixing himself a coffee.

"Umm, wow. Thanks. So, where are we?" Jubilee asked as she took the plate into her lap.

"Worthington Tech. Going to meet de boss. He 'as an offer for you dat he would like to present. But after de rude awakening he ensured dat you could have a good night sleep." Remy explained, taking a sip of his coffee.

"As in Warren Worthington the Third?" Jubilee asked with a hint of shock in her voice.

"De one and only. He be de money behind my firm, well, his firm I suppose." Remy replied, rising to his feet and looking out to the city.

"So, what do you do? As after this morning I hardly believe you're into 'Private Investigations'." She inquired over a mouthful of bacon, for aside from dinner last night, it being the first real meal she had partaken of in weeks.

"Well, dat be one aspect of de job. Just dat we always have de same client. But dis can all wait until Worthington gives you his speech. Boils down to one t'ing P'tit. Helpin' out t'ose who can't help t'emselves. None of dis Superhero stuff dat you see de X-men and Avengers playing at. Just good o' fashion street crime and w'atever else gets t'rown our ways." Remy explained further.

"And occasionally getting bombed?" Jubilee asked between bites of her toast.

"Oui, but dat just be de perks of de job. Pay be real good too, and we get all de toys dat even de FBI can't play with. Comes from de Defense Contracts dat Worthington picks up." Remy replied, turning to face her, a grin on his face.

"So, what makes you think I'm cut out for that kind of work?" Jubilee asked, now working on her eggs.

"Destitute an' without a place to call home be one of de qualifications, along with being a mutant wit' a handy power like not showing up on security systems. Far as de Madri boys can tell from de security in dis place, I be talkin' to myself." Remy replied.

"So, you often go about the streets and pick up women to recruit for this endeavor?" Jubilee asked sharply, looking down to the remains of her meal and suddenly losing her appetite.

Pain crossed Remy's features, knowing how it must look at this moment. Shaking his head he closed the distance between them and sat down next to her. She averted his gaze, and once more he had to rest a finger against her chin, bringing her sapphire blue eyes to meet his own.

"Non, I was just heading home last night when I saw you, lookin' all alone in dis big city. Ya seemed to be like a butterfly lost, not knowing where to turn, fluttering freely. Dat way I picked you up, figured at de least I could hear your troubles and see if I couldn't be any help. But after last night, I be seeing how big your troubles be. I still want to help, but maybe in dat, we both can do a little helping beyond ourselves, non?" Remy asked quietly.

"My mother used to call me her butterfly, whenever she watched me at my Gymnastic meets, she said I looked like I was a butterfly drifting through the air." Jubilee whispered.

"Dat a yes?" Remy asked softly, receiving a small nod.

"Don worry P'tit, Remy be here for you. Not let anyt'ing bad 'appen to you, dat a promise." Remy said.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Jubilee replied, turning from him.

"Don worry, dat one promise I plan to keep." Remy replied, giving a chaste peck on her cheek.

Blushing, Jubilee looked out to the city before her, never expecting that when she came to New York that her life would change like this. Merely enough she had just longed to get lost in the millions of souls that called this concrete jungle home. Never did she expect to meet a demon eyed Casanova with a tongue as sweet as syrup. Looking back to the man next to her, she suddenly found the idea of a shower very appealing, that being a cold shower to keep herself in check before she met the mysterious head of Worthington Tech.