  
           
          Author's Note: 
            Only thing to be aware of ... I took Jubilee to the micro-brewery. 
            She would not allow me to write her as "13 1/2", she complained 
            that the only time she got to be older in a fan fic was if she was 
            pursuing Logan in an adult fic or running the X-Men. She wanted a 
            break and to just be a dumb, mature teen and not a goofy adolescent. 
            I owe her at least that much ... Also, sorry about the serial format; 
            I thought this was going to be a short story, but it evolved on me. 
            Damn evolution, before long, I'll have an ape instead of a story... 
             **Standard Mice Disclaimer** 
            Mice is in no way associated with the Marvel Comics Group. She is 
            merely trying to write a story and this is all she has to show for 
            it. A noble effort. Though she would one day like to be paid for writing, 
            please don't send her any money (send mail to urmonkeyifudo@yeahright.com 
            on instructions to send her money). The characters of Bobby Drake 
            and Jubilee, belong to the Marvel Comics Group. Holland, Jacob, Bert, 
            Cliff, and Nan are of my own mind. Any archiving of this story that 
            is unaware of her attention will be ily received (Read: Tikki Curse). 
            If you e-mail her, explain your intentions to archive the story and 
            address of your archive, she will be more than gracious and will probably 
            do something nice for you, like bake you brownies, not to mention 
            archiving the story. She just wants to know where she can drool over 
            the sight of her name. If you want to e-mail her comments, do it at 
            mice5k@hotmail.com. You'll 
            also get some brownies out of the deal, but it's not really that great 
            of a reward because she can't cook. 
           
          
           
          God ... er, Dog 
            by Mice
          Chapter 1
          "Who will sa-ay-ave your soul, if you won't say hello...li, 
            li, le li li..." 
           If there is any justice in the universe, it would kill me now. 
           What is it about airplane music? I mean, in the past hour, I've 
            heard Kiki Dee's "I've Got the Music in Me" five times, 
            not to mention this song to commit suicide to. And this is the only 
            station that's halfway decent; I'm not about to listen to country, 
            if I wanted to hear classical, I would have stayed at home, though 
            the air traffic report is sounding more and more appetizing by the 
            yodel... 
           I could have been at home right now; relaxing in my fuzzy slippers 
            and blasting my Goo Goo Dolls CD to bother Guthrie's studying habits. 
           Yeah, right. 
           The official reason I'm on the plane is that my partner in crime 
            needs me. 
           Unofficially, though... 
           
           "Nana, I really wish you would be a bit more cordial..." 
            Nan Bass spat at her granddaughter. "When I get to watch some 
            real television and not this A&E crap, we'll talk about my behavior." 
            Nan folded her arms. "I just happen to mention that I like Biography, 
            and now it's the only station I'm allowed to watch. What, is C-SPAN 
            too racy for me, now? Peter Graves isn't bad on the eyes, but Hal 
            Sparks from Talk Soup is quite the looker, you know." 
           "Nana..." 
           "How am I supposed to get my jollies by looking at Trent Lott 
            all day?" 
           "Nana!" 
           "Don't take that tone of voice with me, Jaqueline--" 
           "I'm Holland." 
           Nan looked darkly towards her granddaughter. "Are you talking 
            back to me, Jaqueline?" 
           Holland made her hands into fists and dug her nails into her flesh 
            as hard as she could to get out some of her frustration. "Just 
            correcting you, Nana. No one is even named 'Jaqueline' in our family." 
           Correcting you for the nine billionth time, that is, she 
            added mentally. 
           "I know that, I'm not as senile as you'd like me to be, Jaqueline." 
           Holland could feel all the veins in her head throbbing as she began 
            to move out of the room. "If that's all, Nana, I have to go pick 
            up Gilberto." 
           Nan squinted her eyes at her granddaughter coldly. "You are 
            dismissed." 
           Holland nodded her head and made her way to the hallway, and miraculously 
            made it through without throwing a single vase or smashing a single 
            picture frame. "What on earth possessed me to agree to take care 
            of this woman..." She slumped herself into one of the hideously 
            patterned wing back chairs in the house and tried to fight back the 
            unexpected emotions stirring inside of her. "I hate this house, 
            I hate her, I hate this city, I hate this state, I hate this family, 
            I--" 
           Holland's attention broke as she heard a knock from the screen door. 
            "Dad?" 
           She checked her eyes out in a mirror by the entry table before opening 
            the door, and when she did, her jaw dropped when she saw the man standing 
            outside. 
           "I cannot believe your timing, Bobby." 
           
           You know, I'll never understand why people think LAX is a nightmare. 
            Been here several times, never had much of a problem. It's just like 
            a ton of little airports in one great big one. Guthrie was being really 
            paranoid about letting me barrow her leather duffel bag, like it was 
            going to be sent to Bermuda or St. Petersburg. 
           But then, Guther's has giving me a lot of flack for doing this whole 
            thing. I thought that out of anybody, she'd understand the most, having 
            a gigabyte of siblings or what not. I guess she doesn't see how I 
            could possibly bond with people who are not blood. I try to argue 
            with her that it's not blood, it's just sperm, but then her cheeks 
            flush in embarrassment of the word. Paige is trying to convince us 
            all that she is the ultimate prude. I'm her roomie. I know better. 
            But that's another story. 
           Paige said she understood my relationship with Wolverine. Know it 
            all. I don't even understand it most of the time, so how can a simple 
            hick? 
           She also complains that I like the X-Men more than Generation X. 
            And, if I may be blunt with myself, I do. It's like everybody on this 
            team hates each other or can just barely stand each other. We're more 
            like acquaintances than actual friends ... actual teammates. I mean, 
            the X-Men took in Magneto and treated him friendlier than we treat 
            each other! Well, at least they did to the clone formerly known as 
            Joseph. 
           I have been busting my hump to try and get our team to have the 
            bond the X-Men do, and after all this time ... it just seems so fruitless. 
            Angelo is practically counting down to the day he's checking out. 
            Jono is trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for 
            "Most Consecutive Days Brooding" -- a title that is held 
            by Scott, so he has some mighty angsting to do yet. Monet is ... Monet. 
            Paige and I have a Felicitous relationship -- she's Felicity to my 
            Megan. 
           And Ev. I thought that Ev and I were going to stick like glue to 
            each other, but whenever he gets interested in a girl, he just ditches 
            me. 
           Yeah, sure. We're going to be future X-Men, all right. The closest 
            we'll come is Ev's Xavier-like head. 
           
           Holland resisted the urge to smack her cousin's smug face. "Not 
            even here for five minutes and already you're insulting -- Wait, what 
            are you even doing here? Nana is going to be fine, I'm taking care 
            of her--" 
           Bobby turned around to face his cousin. "My cousin just passed 
            away and you ask what I'm doing here?! And I'm here to liberate Nana; 
            you probably have her on some sort of Nazi regime..." 
           "You Catholic pig!" 
           "I'm not Catholic!!" 
           "Well, you're fascist father is, and if anybody is a Nazi in 
            this family, it's him!" 
           Bobby remained eerily calm for a few seconds as the words lingered 
            in the air. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Holland, he 
            spoke frigidly. "You have no right to judge the Drakes, Holland. 
            You haven't even seen any of us in five years, and I would have been 
            glad to never see you again for the rest of my life, but after Cliff..." 
            Bobby trailed off and took a few moments to collect himself. "And 
            Mom has been so worried about her mom after she took that fall--" 
           Holland broke in, interrupting her cousin's emotional outpour. "Then 
            why isn't Aunt Maddy here and you are?" 
           "Because Mom is taking care of my father, who, I might add, 
            is no more a Nazi than the Pope, and if I ever hear you say another 
            word about my father, I swear that I will smack you so hard, Holland..." 
           Bobby and Holland just stared at one another until Nan called from 
            her room. "Jaqueline? Do I have a visitor?" 
           Holland forced a smile, while keeping a steady gaze on Bobby. "It's 
            just the Drake boy, Nana." 
           "My Maddy's little boy?" Nan's voice broke. 
           "The very one, Nana." 
           "Well, why aren't you letting him come in to see me, or do 
            you not want me to see any part of my family?" 
           Holland lowered her voice so that only Bobby could hear. "You 
            are so lucky that I have to go pick up Gilberto. You know where Nana 
            is." She began to turn to leave when she added, "And whatever 
            you're thinking, don't!" 
           "What does that mean?" 
           Holland placed her hands on her hips and huffed. "It means 
            whatever sort of prank or gag or sassy one-liners you're thinking 
            about pulling on Nana or me, forget it. I have enough stress in my 
            life right now without adding you to it." 
           Bobby began to raise his hand to make a point when and Holland smacked 
            it down. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking it. I spent a whole 
            summer with you at the cabin and I know what you're capable of." 
            Holland left the sentence in the air and her eyes burning on his. 
           Bobby took a few moments, to make sure she was gone before, "Damn, 
            I'd be uptight too if I named my kid after the Frito Bandito." 
           
           My relationship with Bobby is probably one of the most ... normal. 
            In the mansion, most of my friendships were based on surrogate fathers 
            and mothers, but Bobby is the only one who I feel like is just a friend. 
            I have a similar thing with Hank, but he's more like my wacky uncle. 
            With Bobby, I can just hang out. Our personalities just get each other. 
            He understands what it's like to never be taken seriously. C'mon, 
            with a multiple Ph. D. best friend, who's going to look at the frozen 
            lollipop for counsel? 
           I remember when we got the Xavier Five in the mansion; I pulled 
            this nasty prank on Jean that I'm not allowed to talk about, as per 
            the court settlement, but after the prank, I remember her beginning 
            to yell at Bobby, and he kept denying and denying, and she kept accusing 
            and accusing ... finally, she saw me snickering and looked at the 
            two of us and said, "You two deserve each other!" 
           I guess everyone sees us as a pair of jokers and pranksters, and 
            I'll admit, we do our fair share, and that's the only side people 
            seem to want to see of Jubilation Lee and Bobby Drake. And because 
            of that, nobody else takes us seriously but each other. 
           
           "Hey, Nana!" 
           "Come here, Robert," his Nana beckoned. He slowly made 
            his way to her side, to which she kissed the top of his head. "What 
            day is it?" 
           "Uhm, Thursday." 
           "Good. Turn the t.v. to channel forty four." 
           Bobby did as she said and a country music jamboree blared on the 
            screen. Silence passed. 
           "How's your mother, Robert?" 
           "Mom's good ... taking care of Dad." 
           Silence. 
           "How's school?" 
           "School's good. I graduated a while back, actually. I do a 
            bit of teaching, now." 
           "What kind of teaching?" 
           "Just some accounting classes." 
           "You've only been out of school for a few years, how can you 
            teach?" 
           "I just do a few guest lectures, is all." 
           "Do you make any money from it?" 
           "No, I just do it because it's a change." 
           "Hmmph..." 
           Silence. 
           Bobby looked around nervously. "Well, I got to, uh, go to the 
            bathroom, Nana, so--" 
           "Well, why the hell are you telling me? Nature called, no need 
            to broadcast it on the p.a. system. Go, Robert." 
           Bobby made his way out, and once in the safety of the bathroom muttered, 
            "This has been the nicest visit to date..." 
           Bobby looked around the bathroom while relieving himself. The walls 
            where covered with pictures of Blues Clues, and Blue seemed 
            to be staring at him. "No, this doesn't feel perverted at all..." 
            he remarked as casually as he could. He began to wash his hands with 
            the official Blues Clues soap and dried them on a towel which had 
            a winking Blue on it. "Kinky." 
           Bobby made his way back to his grandmother's room very slowly, taking 
            in anything the might be of interest. "Ooh, ceramic bulldog..." 
           Anything. 
           "Nana? I'm home!" Bobby winced as he heard his cousin's 
            voice. 'This is goddamn California!' he began to rant silently to 
            himself. 'It takes an three different freeways and a good half hour 
            to get to your neighbors house, how can she be home already? Bobby 
            stayed frozen in place, contemplating the pros and cons of going into 
            either the living room or back to Nana's room, until something hit 
            his leg. 
           "Oof." 
           Bobby looked down and found a very small boy with huge brown eyes 
            and a mess of a dark brown afro staring up at him. "I guess you're 
            Gilberto." 
           The boy just stared up. 
           Bobby reached down to give the boy a hand up, but wound up picking 
            him up. "How old are you, Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington??" 
           No response except for the boys small arms wrapped themselves around 
            his neck. 
           "He's tired. Not that he talks much, anyways." Bobby turned 
            to see his cousin, who was carrying a bag that would match the bathroom. 
           "The kid is nuts about Blues Clues, isn't he?" 
           Holland nodded. "He thinks Steve is his dad." 
           Bobby gently rocked Gilberto. "Where is his dad?" 
           Holland shrugged. 
           Bobby nodded uncomfortably. 
           "And please don't nickname my kid after a Sweat Hog." 
            She looked at her watch. "Now, I have to go start dinner; Dad'll 
            be here any minute." 
           Bobby froze in place. "I didn't know Jacob was going to be 
            here." 
           "Bobby, the man's son died, what did you think he was going 
            to do?" Holland rolled her eyes as she began defrost some chicken. 
           "Sorry, I was just thinking weird there for a minute." 
            Bobby shook the thought off. 
           "Jaqueline, where is my great-grandson!" 
           Holland gave a pleading look at Bobby. 
           "At least I'm going back in with reinforcements, right Bert?" 
            Bobby patted his extended cousin's head and went into the hall. 
           "It's Gilberto, Bobby!" Holland called after him. 
           He gave a weak wave as he carried Bert upside down to his great-grandmother's 
            room A few seconds later, she heard Nan. "There's my little Albert!" 
           "That's it, I'm poisoning the potatoes." Holland went 
            back into the kitchen to wash the potatoes when she heard the door 
            bell. "Coming, Dad!" Holland hurriedly threw off her apron 
            and checked herself in the mirror next to the door before throwing 
            it open and unlocked the screen door. "Daddy!" 
           "Uhm ... okay. Californian slang has SO changed since I was 
            last here." 
           Holland peered at the petite pest. "Are you selling Girl Scout 
            cookies or something?" 
           The girl opened her mouth, but stopped herself from saying what 
            she was thinking. "Is there a Bobby Drake here?" 
           "And what's it to you, Lolita?" 
           The girl made a face. "Ew, Unibrow." 
           Holland touched the almost unibrow on her forehead protectively. 
            "How do you know my cousin?" 
           "So, he is here -- I was hoping to beat him, but this is just 
            as good." The girl opened the screen as Holland began to close 
            the big door. Luckily, the girl's foot got caught between the big 
            door and the doorway. "For the love of Mary, Tyler, and Moore--!!" 
            Apparently, the term "luckily" was used a bit loosely. 
           Bobby Drake's ear's pricked up. 
           "Robert, what is that noise?" 
           "Well, Nana, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that it was 
            a friend of mine, but -- excuse me for a moment, Nana." Bobby 
            began to rush out the door, but then turned back to set the still 
            clinging Gilberto on Nan's bed. "Bert." Bobby swallowed 
            the laughter building in his chest at the spectacle he saw in the 
            living room. Jubilee battling his cousin for entrance into the house. 
            "Oh if only the guys back home could see this, they would see 
            that karma does exist..." he muttered before interrupting. "Let 
            her in, Holland. She's a friend of mine." 
           "Picking up girl's at the local high school's now, Bobby? That's 
            a new low for you, congratulations." Holland, scowling, let in 
            a very jubiliant Jubilee in. 
           "Hey, Bobby, did you hear that?!" 
           "Yeah, she said you looked like a high schooler!" 
           "Dude, FINALLY!" 
           Bobby gave Jubilee a high five. 
           "Now, this brings me to my next question, Jubilee..." 
           "Who the hell names their kid Jubilee?" Holland broke 
            in. 
           "I would SO not be talking, Tulips," Jubilee snapped. 
           Holland began to ramble as she went back into the kichten. "Oh, 
            God, and here I was hoping there was just ONE Bobby Drake ... now 
            I know that there was enough left that God used it to create an annoying 
            Korean teenager..." 
           "I'm CHINESE, thank you!" Jubilee shouted into the kitchen, 
            then turned back to Bobby. "Does she have a mute button anywhere?" 
           Bobby shook his head. "Not a chance. Don't you think I would 
            have used it already? Now, what are you doing here? You didn't sneak 
            out to get away from finals, did you?" 
           "No, Hank called. Said he couldn't come here to be with you, 
            and you know, 'Should the role of Bobby Drake's Best Friend be left 
            vacant, second-runner up shall get a ride on the next plane'." 
           "You mean everyone else was busy?" 
           "Thank you, but I didn't ask for any ha and ha in my coffee." 
           "What are you, Will AND Grace?" 
           "Well, I always thought I was a gay man in a woman's body." 
            Jubilee frowned. "Are you saying that you're not happy to see 
            me?" 
           Bobby went out to hug her. "Of course not, J. I'm glad you're 
            here. And not just to bug Holland." Bobby released her. "But, 
            aren't you missing any important school stuff? I don't want you to 
            fall behind on my account." 
           "Bobby, are you implying that we actually go to class once 
            in a while?" 
           "No, just every 'a while'." 
           Jubilee grinned. "Don't worry, there is not a thing I'm missing, 
            except for Frosty's summer wardrobe." 
           "Well, then I might have to take your spot just to see that!" 
           Jubilee hit him playfully. "Perv." 
           Bobby hit back. "Pixie." 
           "So, Bobby, how are--" Jubilee began, but was interrupted. 
           "Holland, Mom, I'm home!" 
           Bobby tensed. 
           "Who's that?" 
           "Jacob." 
          continued >> 
          
 
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