saga/title/fandom: Lab Work


rating/genre:(NC-17) - Romance

warnings: language, heated sexual content

summary: Jubilee and Hank pairing, racy and funny

comments/disclaimers: For all those who enjoyed Beauty Tips and the Beast, and demanded a sequel. Here you go!

Dr. Henry McCoy delicately adjusted the tiny knob on his microscope and focused in on the stained cells on his slide. Although he had access to a variety of the finest scientific equipment known, some investigations were accomplished just as well by old-fashioned methods, and it was satisfying to occasionally eschew the hugely expensive equipment around him and return to the basics. Another anachronism was the spiral notebook on the lab table beside him, where he jotted his notes. While the scribbles would eventually be transcribed onto the computer, he found pen and paper to be the easiest way to record his thoughts on a moment by moment basis.

Although he would deny it, Hank McCoy was an individual comforted by old-fashioned anything. He believed in courtesy, manners, hard work and paying one’s dues. He would have done well in the corporate climate of the nineteen sixties. Unfortunately, it was no longer the sixties, and there wasn’t a ready-made white-collar shirt in the world that would fit around his twenty-four inch neck.

A flash of color and the unceremonious bang of the laboratory doors opening drew his attention away, and he glanced up to see Jubilation Lee, known as Jubilee to all, enter the lab with a handful of paper.

"Mail call," she declared, dropping the envelopes and scientific journals on the last clear spot on the counter behind him before coming over to give him a quick kiss. "How’s it going?"

"It goes extremely well, actually," Hank observed, glancing at his notes and putting his large furry arm around her shoulders. "At this rate, I should be able to finish my paper long before it’s due."

"Hank, have you ever turned in a paper late?" Jubilee asked skeptically as she leaned into his embrace and circled his waist with her arm.

"Once. Perhaps twice," he replied, pulling her in to kiss her properly, and the lab stool beneath him creaked in protest as his weight shifted. "I could not say for sure, but I do think it was twice."

Jubilee made a disparaging noise deep in her throat. "Professional teacher’s pet."

"Delinquent," Hank responded with a grin.

"Of course," she shot back with a blithe shrug. "Did you eat your lunch?"

"Urm?" Hank glanced around the lab to remember what he’d done with the sandwich and chips she’d forced on him earlier. The chips were gone, but the sandwich was only half-eaten. "Mostly. Leave it, and I’ll finish it later."

"If you didn’t work so hard, you’d have time to eat properly," she chided gently, combing his rumpled head fur with her fingers. "You’re lucky I look out for you."

"And you have my undying gratitude, dear Jubilee."

"Please. You’re just shocked I had a girlfriend moment and made you a sandwich."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "Truthfully, yes I was."

"Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it," she warned, picking up the plastic plate with the abandoned sandwich. The dried edge of lunchmeat and limp lettuce earned a critical lip curl, and the stale bread bounced when she thumped it. The entire mess was unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

"Is there a reason for such an uncharacteristically domestic display?" he asked carefully. Her casual demeanor had a mild edge to it that had not been there earlier that morning.

Jubilee shrugged. "Wolverine called this morning. He said he might be back next week."

Not bothering to comment, Hank left his stool and drew Jubilee back into his arms, holding her closely, and once again amazed when she relaxed and allowed him to comfort her, letting him inside her formidable emotional barriers.

Logan had disappeared the day after he and Jubilee had quarreled over her choice of lovers. Specifically, that she’d gone to Hank. The man was an idiot and a fool, Hank thought, and twice over for not taking Jubilee when the young woman had senselessly thrown herself at him, making no secret of her long-term attachment. It was only when she gave up and turned to another that the Wolverine had belatedly realized what he’d lost, but his last-minute change of heart had been too late, and Jubilee had refused to change her mind.

Unfortunately, the loss ran both ways. Jubilee had loved Logan for a very long time, and even after giving up on his ever returning her romantic feelings, she had still considered him her best friend. Yet even that was denied her when Logan ran, as he was wont to, from any emotional entanglements in which he did not call the shots, leaving her without her oldest, dearest confidant.

"I’d better let you get back to work," Jubilee said finally, her face still buried in his lab coat. She kissed him quickly and stepped back, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her.

"That’s a lovely dress," Hank observed as she turned. The red and yellow tropical print sundress was an amazing splash of color in his sterile white and steel lab. "Very cheerful."

"Sexy, too," she tossed back impishly, raising her arms to show off the low-cut, backless dress. A quick spin drew out the full skirt before she skipped towards the door. "See ya later, Hank." She was gone before he could think of an appropriate response.

Hank settled back at his microscope and tried to return to his work, but the threads of thought he’d been following earlier were no match for the vibrant remnants of his girlfriend’s personality.

Girlfriend, he mused. What an odd concept. He’d first met Jubilee when she was barely a teenager, and he himself had been in his late twenties, more than twice her age. He had viewed the overactive orphan from the complacent heights of someone with advanced degrees and a superior life experience. She had returned his attitude with the affectionate air of someone tolerating an annoying older brother.

Now, he was staring forty in the face, checking surreptitiously for gray hairs to appear in his so-far solid blue pelt. In the meantime, Jubilee had gone off to the Xavier School, walked out on the floundering faculty with the rest of her classmates, and then completely disappeared, despite Wolverine’s best efforts to track her down. She had casually resurfaced one day, calling Hank on the phone and announced that she was in her sophomore year of college and could he explain a theorem her 'moron professor seemed completely incapable of teaching competently?'

Their casual relationship had continued while she finished college and when she returned to Xavier’s mansion to take up the role of an X-man. Their easygoing friendship had abruptly turned to something more on a random Saturday night, a night that Hank considered to be one of the best in his life. Like a random element injected into a stable equation, that Saturday night had set off a chain reaction he'd never expected, enlivening and illuminating his staid existence with an energy and vibrancy previously unknown to him.

The rest of the group had greeted their changed relationship with various reactions. Jean and Ororo had giggled like schoolgirls when they’d caught the new couple necking on the back patio. Bishop had shrugged, but winked when no one else was looking. Scott was still giving them occasional confused, puzzled frowns above his red sunglasses, but those had grown fewer as the weeks passed. Bobby had given her a huge hug and told her that she was one of his best friends, but if she broke Hank's heart he'd do something unspeakable to her.

The others, like Marrow and Jamie Maddox, had not been in residence during her first tenure as an X-man, and didn't have the same memories of Jubilee as an obnoxious thirteen-year-old. To them, she was a college graduate, a veteran, and competent teammate who just happened to be sleeping with another teammate. Well, Marrow had an opinion about it, but Marrow had opinions on about just about everything.

If anything, Hank himself was the most unsettled by this unexpected development. He had long ago resigned himself to the life of a celibate intellectual, and made private jokes with himself on when he would develop enough eccentric habits to fit the cliché of an absentminded scientist. All those plans had been scuttled, however, by the resident firecracker who shared his bed two out of three nights.

At first, the difference in their age had bothered Hank much more than it did her. In truth, Jubilee’s experiences were far more than her years would suggest; she’d been orphaned at eleven and been on her own for virtually all the time since. She was in many ways more cynical and worldly than he, who spent so many hours and days closeted in a laboratory - not so much an ivory tower as a white Formica and steel dungeon.

Finally, his mind settled back into the familiar discipline of the researcher, and he dragged another set of slides towards him. Deeply engrossed, Jubilee had to call his name three times before he heard her.

"Yes?" he answered, blinking rapidly as his eyes refocused. Grinning, Jubilee reached up and pulled his gold glasses down from the top of his head.

"I just wanted to check and be sure we’re still on for our date."

"Date?" he responded blankly.

"Friday night. Movie. We’re still going, right?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Tomorrow night. I would not miss it for the world." Friday night meant a double feature at the drive-in, where the speakers were scratchy, the popcorn of dubious freshness, but they brought their own sandwiches and a pack of wine coolers and made out like any ordinary couple while watching the movie. In the six weeks they'd been officially an item, the ritual had become something he looked forward to.

"Good. Just wanted to be sure," Jubilee stated firmly.

Hank sensed something was wrong, and reached out to caress he cheek. "Any time I can spend with you is precious to me. You know that, don’t you?"

She nodded, leaning into his caress. After a moment she stepped back and announced that she had some things to take care of, but she’d see him soon. He grunted in acknowledgement, already drifting back into his work.

"Actually, I may work late tonight, my dear. Don’t worry, I’ll scrounge something from the kitchen when I emerge from my labyrinth later."

Jubilee frowned at him thoughtfully, but he did not notice, his glasses once more pushed up and the microscope at the center of his attention, and he heard but did not see her leave. Drawn once more into the complex world of his research, it seemed only moments later that Jubilee was back in the lab yet again.

"Did you forget something?" he asked.

"No, don't worry. I'm just here to check on something. Pay no attention."

"Umm," he said vaguely, his eyes still glued to the eyepiece of his equipment. He could hear her puttering around, picking up random things and replacing them in their proper location. She had helped him out on several projects, both before and after their recently developed relationship, and he trusted her to know where things belonged.

Hank never noticed when the sound of activity died while Jubilee stood staring at him, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on her face. He didn’t notice when she stepped closer to his table, and he didn’t notice when she sank down to a crouch. Even the sensation of fingers running up the inside of his legs took a moment to register.

"Jubilee?" he called questioningly.

"Don't mind me. I'm not going to bother you," she replied, while her strong hands massaged the muscles on top of his thighs. The front of his lab coat twitched as she yanked at the buttons and pushed it out of her way.

Hank tried to push back from the counter, but she’d apparently hooked one toe around the wheel of his stool. "What do you think you’re doing down there?"

"Just go on with what you're doing, Hank. I don't want to disturb your research." Under the white fabric, her fingers had located and undone the top button of his shorts. The majority of his day to day wardrobe consisted of shorts, as the fur on his legs grew on a downward grain and pulling on pants literally rubbed him the wrong way. Hank owned only a few pairs of long trousers, and wore them only when absolutely necessary.

The zipper was down before he could form a coherent protest, and those same fingers reached inside to find his already interested flesh and quickly stroked it erect and hard. Hank gave the microscope an accusing glance, but it merely sat there, mutely denying it had anything to do with what was going on under the table.

One hand left him, its absence immediately explained when, with a pneumatic huff, the stool suddenly sank several inches under his weight. The drop made him grab convulsively at the edge of the table, but it was Jubilee’s hot, wet mouth on his shaft that made his eyes lose their focus.

The warm swirl of her tongue and the firm suction stole his protest, and it was a moment before he could remember to close his mouth. When her hands traced the waistband of his shorts and urged them further down his hips, he could only mindlessly obey. In truth, he would have done anything as long as she did not stop the torturous ecstasy that seemed to be dragging him under the table like quicksand.

Again and again she engulfed him, her tongue busy on the underside, providing friction while her hands stroked his testes and rubbed the thick vein at the base. The heat of her mouth, the firm edge of her lips were driving him insane, while the occasional sharp edges of her teeth spiked his arousal even higher.

His talons gripped the edge of the table and raked up splinters as he groaned Jubilee’s name, barely able to recognize the fact that his rear had slid forward off the stool, and the edge of the seat was digging into the small of his back. Small, even teeth gently raked the underside of his erection before he was swallowed down as deep and hard as he would fit. Her hands rubbed up and down his shaft, the only part of his anatomy without the covering of thick fur, and her bare hands on his naked skin was unbearably erotic. His breath came in short panting gasps as his pleasure crested, leaving white streaks behind his eyelids.

"Stop. Jubilee, stop! I'm…"

What exactly he was planning on saying was lost as she increased her efforts, her tongue latched on the underside of his eager length, her lips firm around his sensitive tip as she maintained a rhythm that completely shattered his ability to think. Her hands firmly gripped each side of his shorts, pulling him in even further. Hank was helpless to resist the overwhelming orgasm and he gave himself over to it utterly, letting out a roar of pleasure.

Even the graceless fall to the hard floor of the lab barely registered as the stool skidded out from beneath his weight. He lay on his back, shorts around his thighs, and stared, stunned, at the fluorescent lights overhead.

"Hank? Oh my God, Hank! Are you okay?" Jubilee's concerned face hovered over his, and he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her down for a kiss. The salty leftovers of his essence lingered in her mouth, and he didn't care.

"Huh. Guess you're gonna live after all," she observed when he released her lips.

"Perhaps," he ventured, still dazed. "Though if you do that too often, you may very well cause a fatal cerebral hemorrhage."

She gave him a superior smirk. "Well, at least I got your attention. You've been down here so long I was getting desperate."

"I do realize I've been spending a prodigious amount of time on my research, but it's really quite fascinating. Not that I mind you distracting me."

"Hank," she interrupted. "What was the rule we agreed on?"

"No more than sixty-five hours a week, and I'm quite aware of the time this takes away…"

"Hank." She interrupted again. "It's Friday."

He peered up at her and attempted a patient smile. "Surely you're mistaken, my dear. I am not so unmindful of the passage of time as to completely confuse the day of the week. This is Thursday."

"Hank. Look at your watch."

Exasperated, he let go of her waist and lifted his arm, peering at the gold instrument around his wrist, then pulled down his glasses and peered at it again. The two small dials next to the three o'clock dot insisted she was right.

"It cannot be. Today is Thursday."

Smiling, Jubilee stood up, one foot to either side of his chest. "Hank, it is Friday. It is after five. Our movie starts in just over two hours. My jeep has a cooler, a blanket, and a picnic basket in it, waiting for us." She leaned down, hands on her knees, and eyed him with mock sternness. "You have exactly ten minutes to go upstairs, change, brush yourself presentable and get your cute, furry blue ass in my car. Understand?" He nodded absently, wondering if she knew how close she was to falling completely out of the top of her sundress. His hands drifted up her calves, skated up her forearms, and reached out to catch whatever gravity might send his way.

Catching his view, she glanced down at her cleavage and deliberately took a deep breath, jeopardizing her precarious position even further. "Oh -- one more thing? I'm not wearing any underwear."

With a mischievous flip of her skirt Jubilee proved that she was, indeed, naked under her sundress and simultaneously danced out of his reach. "Ten minutes, lover. Then I leave without you!" she called from the door of his lab.

Hampered by the unzipped shorts around his knees, he scrambled upright and tugged his clothing back into place as he gave chase, but was unable to catch her before she reached the elevator. She slipped inside and pushed the button, the brushed steel doors closing in his face, leaving him with only the after-image of Jubilee’s brilliant smile as her triumphant giggle echoed in the corridor.

Grinning foolishly, Hank took off his lab coat and returned to his lab. A quick look around brought home to him the fact that it was, frankly, a mess. Glass slides littered the countertops. Samples had been taken from their carefully organized storage and lay haphazardly across the white lab table, surrounding his microscope in drifts. A half-eaten Twinkie, well on its way towards being petrified, sat on top of his filing cabinet.

Hank glanced at the lab coat in his hand. And with a nonchalant toss, threw the bundle of fabric blindly over his shoulder into the lab as he headed for the elevator, turning out the lights before it hit the floor.


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