Treat Me Good

by Dyce


Disclaimer: Jo's mine, the others aren't, the song's by Bachelor Girl, this is #7 in the Song Titles series and let's get on with the story!

Jubilee hummed contentedly, slicing vegetables absently as she focused most of her attention on her most recent case. She'd made a breakthrough today with Tammi, she was sure. It was amazing how a 'you-can't-possibly-understand-what-I'm-going-through' attitude crumbled in the face of dead parents at twelve, the streets until thirteen, a succession of fosterhomes (well, a close analogue), and single-parenthood at the ripe old age of twenty. Now, at twenty-four, she was a social worker slash counsellor for allegedly wayward youth. The kids appreciated the 'alleged' part. Everyone was innocent until proven guilty of being a delinquent, Jubilee insisted, under US law.

Okay, maybe not, but it made her sound more on their side.

"Mommy?" Jo trotted in, her little face a mask of concentration and something held with exaggerated care in her cupped hands. "Mommy, good bug or bad bug?"

Jubilee firmly ordered herself not to panic, and leaned over to look at whatever creepy-crawly thing Jo'd found this time. A small beetle looked back at her. Jubilee ran through her mental bug-lexicon, acquired via four years of daughterly bug-obsession, and nodded. "Good bug, sweetie. He can go back in the garden."

"Otay," Jo smiled her sunny smile, and trotted back out through the back door. Jo Lee Hu, Bug Inspector for the Back Garden Precinct, was on the hunt.

Jubilee chuckled, and went back to her carrots. She'd just managed to synchronize the rhythm of the knife with that of the song on the radio when the phone rang. Typical. With a huff of annoyance, she switched off the radio and picked up the receiver. "Lee and Hu, Bug Inspections and Moral Classifications." Pause. "Oh, hi, Paula. Sorry, Jo's been doing the good-bug-bad-bug routine all day. What's up?" Pause. "Oh no. How bad-" Pause. "That bad. Where are you?" She scribbled it down on the old notepad beside the phone. "Yeah, I'll be right there. Uh-huh. Just keep an eye on him. Bye."

She took a deep breath, pressed the little button down with one finger instead of hanging up the receiver, and dialed a new number. "Drew? Jubilee. I probably won't be in tomorrow. Major family crisis. Yes, I know it's short notice, but bereavements do tend to be sudden... no, it's not me... yeah, him. I'll call you when I know more. Bye!"

New number. "Hello? Oh, Tora. Can I speak to Angelo please? Crisis. Brief." Another pause. "Ange? I just got a call from Paula... yes, Jon's assistant Paula. She said that there was some kinda dead musician thing going on there, and he's gone into a major funk... no, I don't know who's dead. Watch the news yourself... Ange, it can't possibly scare OR scar the baby. She's still in utero, TV can't reach her mind yet... Anyway, yes, I'm going to see Jon, and no you're not coming. Tora's practically popping now. You don't want to miss the delivery, do you? No. Jo and I can handle it fine... yes, I'm taking her with me. I'll take my car, I'll take my mobile, I'll call you as soon as I can, and if you haven't started dinner yet, there's nearly everything you need for an oven stew sitting on my counter... yeah, we'll get Mickey D's for once. Jo'll love it... She doesn't like KFC because there's chicken in it. She thinks Happy Meals are bugburgers... no, I didn't tell her that to get her to eat it, she says she recognized the taste, which worries me a bit, but whatever... yes, I'll keep you posted. Go back to doting on your wife and incipient offspring. Bye!" This time she set the phone down with a decisive click, and called out through the open door. "Jo! Jo, come in here!"

"Coming!" Jo raced back to the house, her dirty, chubby legs achieving a surprising turn of speed. "What, Mommy?"

Jubilee picked her daughter up and gave her a quick hug. "Sweetheart, I just got a phonecall. Your Uncle Jon is sick, and we need to go look after him, okay?"

Jo nodded seriously. "Is Unca Jonny gonna be okay?"

"I'm sure he will, sweetie, but he's all alone in a hotel, with nobody there to look after him, and I'm sure you can imagine how sad that would be." Jubilee kissed the top of the little head. "So we're going to go cheer him up."

"'tay." Jo brightened. "I can take my nursie hat an' look af'er him."

In spite of her worry, Jubilee had to chuckle at that. "Good idea. You go get it, and I'll pack some things to take with us."

Half an hour later, they were on the road. Not long at all after that (and with only one food stop and three bathroom stops), they were in New York. Fortunately, the expensive hotel had its own parking garage, and the slot assigned to Jon's room-number was empty. Jubilee parked, unbuckled her daughter, conscientiously locked up, and hurried up to Reception...

...where she was rudely and unexpectedly blocked.

"I do apologize, ma'am, but Mr Starsmore is not seeing visitors," the officious concierge assured her for the third time.

"But I'm an old friend, and-" Jubilee started, clinging to the last shreds of her patience.

"Yes. Quite." The man eyed Jo and didn't quite sniff. "Nevertheless, Mr Starsmore's assistant has informed me that he will not be taking visitors for the foreseeable future. Perhaps you would like to leave a note?"

"No, I would NOT like to leave a..." Jubilee took a deep breath. Obviously the man thought she was just another one of Jon's interchangeable escorts - possibly one with a four-year-old bone to pick with him. She should be flattered, really... she knew she wasn't a chore to look at, with her sapphire eyes, peach-blush skin, and long, silky black hair, but she wasn't in anything like the league Jon's girlfriends occupied. "Listen, did Paula mention any exceptions to this no-visitors thing?"

An eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "I believe she did mention that she was expecting a... professionally qualified friend of Mr Starsmore's to arrive, but-"

Jubilee juggled her sleepy daughter to her other arm, and fished a card out of her pocket. "Jubilation Lee," she said sweetly. "I'm a counselor, as you can see. This is Jon's god-daughter, Joanna."

The man looked at the card. Meekly, he called up to the room. "Ms Lee has arrived."

"Oh, good." A calmly frantic English voice issued from the receiver. "Send her up, quick."

Jon was slumped in a chair in the middle of his elegantly understated suite, staring at an unopened bottle of whiskey. Jubilee was right. It was great for atmosphere, even if you couldn't drink it. Especially if you couldn't drink it. Just looking at it made you more depressed.

God, he was depressed. Black hole depressed. Total eclipse depressed. Five tequila sunsets and a broken heart depressed. He hadn't felt this bad since he was nineteen. There was nothing like facing your own immortality to depress you. Mickey was dead. His mate, dead. Heart attack, boom, there he'd been on the floor, with a surprised look on his face and his drink soaking into his shirt. It had been a bizarrely blue drink. The whole scene had been bizarrely reminiscent of an ad for female sanitary products, the kind that use blue liquid 'cause blood's too nasty. Mickey, just lying there on the floor with a blue stain on his shirt in the world's most G-rated sudden-death scene.

Jon covered his face with his hands. They'd just been sitting there talking, dammit. Just talking and then boom. No more talking ever. And he couldn't die like that. Didn't even age, really, unless he thought about it. And there wasn't much that could kill him, and even if he let his powers finish the job and eat him up, he'd just end up like that poor sod the X-Men had unearthed a few years back... a person composed entirely of psionic energy. Poor bloke had been completely mad. He'd come into his powers without the slightest notion of how to shield, and been driven insane before he could learn, then spent nearly sixty years without the psionic equivalent of skin. Most of those years he'd spent trying to find something, anything, that could kill him and put him out of his misery. The X-Men, needless to say, had looked horrified and refused when he'd begged them to let him die. Fortunately, someone had slipped the poor man Magneto's name. Magneto had, god only knew how, managed to interrupt the energy that was the man's only 'real' existence and euthanize the poor bastard. Ending a lifetime of obscene and horrific suffering... it'd really been a kindness, both to him and to the people around him.

Jon only hoped there'd be someone around to euthanize *him* when he needed it.

The door opened, then closed again. He ignored it. Paula muttered something. He ignored that too. Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder and a familiar mental presence intruded on his depression. He looked up. Jubilee was standing there, gazing down at him with gentle, caring blue eyes. Her hair was longer. There were the first hints of little lines around her eyes. <*Jubilee?*>

"Drove here," she said simply. "Paula's putting Jo down for a nap on your bed."

Jon looked around. Nobody watching. Good. <*Sit on there,*> he ordered, pointing to the couch opposite him. She sat down. With the deep, inexpressible relief of finally having someone there he could be absolutely and totally honest with, Jon got up, went over to the couch, curled up on her lap, burrowed his face into her neck, and hid under her long hair. <*Mickey died,*> he said forlornly.

Jubilee rested her cheek against his head and wrapped her arms around the bulk of him, privately taking a moment to be grateful that mostly being made of psi-energy made him pretty light. "I know. Paula told me."

Already he didn't feel quite so bad. There was nothing like actually being able to give in to the depression and act like a complete sook to make it not feel so bad. He held on a little tighter and rested his head on her shoulder. <*I was right there. He was talking to me about this new song he was having trouble with and then he stopped. Put his hand on his chest. Then boom, he just fell down.*>

Jubilee kissed the top of his head gently, his chestnut curls getting muddled with her own ruler-straight ebony locks. "I love you," she said inconsequentially.

It made him feel a bit better. It always did. <*There wasn't even any warning. No sore arm or anything. Just boom.*> He started to shake, his own personal take on crying without breath or tears.

Automatically Jubilee started to rock, rubbing his back gently, the exact same way she would if it was Jo curled up on her lap and sobbing miserably. "Shhh..." she murmured. "Death sucks, I know it does..."

<*It wasn't... there wasn't any reason for it,*> he whispered. <*'Is death didn't serve any purpose. 'E just died.*> Gentle fingers ruffled through his hair as he mumbled his way through a loss infinitely more meaningful precisely because it had been so pointless. He talked, and cried a little, and she kissed his hair and hugged him and was generally just as entirely present as a very young woman of cute but unimpressive stature could be.

Hours later, they watched the first delicate fingers of sunrise tint the eastern sky with aquamarine and turquoise. Even the smog was a pretty shade of pearly grey.

"Feel better?" Jubilee murmured gently, ruffling his hair once again.

<*Mm. I think so.*> Jon was sprawled on the couch with his head on her lap, and he turned it to look up at her. <*Thanks.*>

"Anytime." She smiled down at him, then yawned a little kitten yawn. "You're always there when I need you," she continued, muffling the yawn behind her hand. "And this time you needed me."

<*An' I've kept you up all night,*> he said remorsefully. Sitting up, he winced as his spine made friendly, greet-the-morning cracking noises. <*I'm sorry, luv. And you brought Jo, too...*>

"Oh, she's okay," Jubilee said sleepily, stretching her cramped arms. "Checked on her when I went to the bathroom. She's curled up in your bed clutching your leather jacket." She smiled. "She likes the smell... says it reminds her of you."

Jon smiled wistfully as he stood, stretching tiredly. <*Surprised she remembers. She only sees me a few times a year.*>

"But she loves you," Jubilee said softly. "And she knows you love her." She stood up, sliding an arm around his waist and giving it a companionable squeeze. "And in my very coolly qualified opinion, we both need some sleep."

He hugged back. <*Right. Wanna go sack out with Joanie?*> His eyes twinkled. <*It's a big bed, an' I reckon I can contain me carnal urges.*>

Jubilee laughed at him. "Carnal urges? What're those?" She tapped her chin with her finger with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression on her face. "Oh, riiiight, I remember them. They're what you have when you don't have a hyperactive toddler and a full-time job, so you actually have time to think about sex."

Jono put on his best sympathetic expression, and patted her shoulder. <*Don't worry, luv. I'll think about it for you.*>

"Oh, you're all heart, Starsmore..."

* * *

"Mommyyyy!" Joanna wailed, her little face all scrunched up. "He's not heeeeeeere!!"

Jubilee tried to pry her eyes open enough to see the clock. "I know that, sweetie," she said as patiently as she could.

A louder wail was her only reward. "But you promised! You promised Unca Jonny'd be here today!"

"Today, yes. At four in the morning, no." Jubilee sat up, yawning. "He's going to be here at around ten o'clock, okay? Before your party starts."

Jo sniffled a bit. "Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. He's never missed your birthday yet, has he?" Jubilee ruffled her daughter's hair gently. Since it was Jo's birthday, she decided, she wouldn't yell at her about the whole rude-awakening-at-ungodly-hour thing.

Jo climbed up onto the bed, snuggling into her mother's arms. "Nopes. I've seen all the pictures," she said cheerfully, tears forgotten. "An' he always brings me great presents, and plays games with me, an' he lets me sit on his lap when I huff out my candles."

Jubilee looked down at her, remembering for a moment when she was a tiny bundle swathed in pink, instead of a ravishingly pretty little girl in pale green Pooh pajamas. "Why is that?" she asked thoughtfully. "I mean, why do you always want to sit on Uncle Jon's lap for the candles?"

"Cause he can't cheat," Jo said seriously.

Blink. "...Cheat?"

"Haven't you ever noticed that when little kids huff out their candles, their Mommy or Daddy or someone huff on the candles too, so they go out?" Jo gave her mother a wise little look. "But Unca Jonny can't huff, 'cause he doesn't breath. So I can huff my own candles."

Jubilee blinked again, and then she smiled slowly. "That's right. And he loves being the one to hold you while you're huffing."

Jo nodded in satisfaction. "Win/win," she said proudly. She'd picked up a few phrases from her mother over the years. Then an anxious look crept over her little face. "You did tell Unca Jonny that I'm six this year, right? He won't forget and think it's a different number?"

"Don't worry, he knows. Uncle Jon never forgets anything about you." Resignedly, Jubilee swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "So, what do you want for your birthday breakfast?"

"Sausages! And bacon and scrambly eggs and pancakes and fried 'matos and..."

By nine-thirty, Jubilee was considering considering infanticide. Not only had Jo demanded every hour on the hour whether Unca Jonny would be here soon, but she'd spent the intervening time running around getting herself more and more overexcited by the minute. All this while, mind you, her longsuffering mother was trying to put up party decorations, assembling the games, and thanking all the gods that Tora and Angelo were bringing the food.

"Who's coming to the party?" Jo asked for the fifth time.

Resignedly, Jubilee ran through the list again. "Uncle Ange and Auntie Tora, with Dimas and Damita, Uncle Jon, Rebecca and Rowena and their mother, and whoever those other four kids are you invited."

"Yay!" Jo carolled happily, and skipped off. Jubilee picked a streamer out of her hair and sighed. It was going to be a long day. A very long day. A long, torturous, long, nervewracking, long day.

"UNCA JONNY!"

But worth it.

She followed her daughter to the door, smiling as the little girl hurtled down the walk and flung herself into Jon's arms. Those arms closed around her, swinging her high in the air then hugging her close. Jubilee bit her lip, watching her friend's face as he held her daughter close.

Jon's face had a fierce, hungry look as he cradled the little girl against his chest. It was the look of a starving man offered the loan of food, a painfully lonely man offered a single afternoon of companionship, and it broke her heart to see it. He loved Jo so much, more than her own father ever had. If things had worked out differently, he would have made a wonderful father... maybe even for Jo...

Jubilee firmly crushed that thought, and went out to hug her *friend* hello.

Hours later, Jon sat sprawled in an uncomfortable plastic chair, watching an enthusiastic game of Statues take place on the sunny lawn. He'd begged exhaustion from the game of Red Rover, and was on baby-minding duty instead, cradling the sleeping Damita against his shoulder.

He wondered what it would be like to hold his own child this way.

He wondered what it would be like to have a child.

He wanted one.

But he couldn't have one, his mutant powers had left him firing the proverbial blanks, and even if he could he couldn't risk his child suffering the way he had, so there wasn't any point in thinking about it. He had Jo and Jubilee for love, he had Angelo and Paula for friendship, he had a succession of beautiful, willing women for anything else he wanted... what more did a man need?

Jo shrieked in delight as she successfully tagged the 'it', and won the game. Jono arranged the projection of his face into a smile. It was just an illusion, not even real to the touch, but it was progress. At least he didn't frighten the kids any more. It was a small but real comfort that he'd never frightened Jo, even when she saw him as he really was.

She was running to her mother now, and he watched them both with an odd tugging at his heart. Jubilee'd let her hair grow long since her Gen X days, and now it swung halfway down her back in a shining black curtain... which wasn't all that far, since she'd always been petite, but tiny or not, she was prettier than ever. The maturity in her eyes and the faint beginnings of lines on that porcelain skin only added grace and depth to her face.

But Jo... even at six, she was stunning. Huge hazel eyes and silky black hair, peach-blush skin and rosy lips, all put