I almost never thought about him anymore.

We broke up nearly three years ago. And except for that one night, it's been permanent. After that night, we didn't talk much anymore. Because I was right, it didn't make anything right, and he left before the sun came up.

He moved away a while later. Away from Snow Valley, to live in Boston - he got a job, or something. Anyway, he wasn't around anymore. I knew Jono still saw him a lot, but I never seemed to run into him. Can't blame him for that.

So I almost never thought of him anymore.

Until Jono came to knock on the door of my cottage one day, with so much hurt in his eyes that I could hardly look at him.

I thought it was Paige, of course. Figured he'd finally found out she was screwing Gambit, off in the big leagues, and wasn't ever going to come back to him now that she'd gotten her hands on the improved model. So I invited him in, touched his shoulder, asked him what was wrong...

<*It's Ange,*> he muttered, looking down at his hands. <*I.... shit, Jubilee, I know you two ain't spoken more'n a few words in years, but I dunno who else to bring this to.....*>

I stared at him. "Angelo?" I said blankly. Yeah, I still knew the name, but there'd been some kinda conspiracy of silence around him ever since he left...they'd talk about him, all right, but nobody ever said his name to me. Not ever.

<*He's... in trouble.*> Now Jono looked up at me with those hurt, desperate brown eyes, and I could feel myself softening. Damnit, Jono'd suffered so much, and he still only got that suffering look when it was someone else who was hurting. <*He won't talk to me about it, and I sure as hell can't help him.. but you could.*>

"Me?" I snorted, leaning back against the table and folding my arms. "If he won't let you help, Jono, why would he let me? I haven't even seen him in....god, over a year." Over a year. I hardly ever even dreamed about him anymore.

<*I can't make him listen to me,*> Jono said softly. <*You can. You always could. Please, Jubes... he needs help. He's getting *hurt*.>

My eyes narrowed, and I looked at Jono as he perched on the edge of the chair. "Hurt?"

<*Yeah. See, he's.... he's got this girlfriend....*> Jono trailed off, looking anxiously at me.

I nodded curtly. "I heard. 'bout eight months ago, wasn't it?"

He nodded slowly. <*Name's Bonnie. And... she's bad news for him, Jubes. Really bad. And I *can't* help, for a lot o' reasons, but you could. Ain't saying you have to, 'cause you don't, but.... please. I ain't askin' you ta get back together with him, ain't even askin' you t' like the dumbshit, just *help* him. Just this once.*>

I'm a sucker for Jono. He knows that if he begs me to do something for him, I'll always cave. So here I am, stamping along the street and wondering what the hell I'm going to say when he opens the door.

Turns out I don't have to say anything... he opens the door, and as soon as he sees who it is he turns away. I don't even get a good look at his face. "Jono sent you, right?" he says calmly..... but god, his voice is cold. Flat. Lifeless. It used to have this great purry sound to it, but that's gone now.

'course, that's probably 'cause he's talking to me.

"More like begged me to come," I say, just as coolly. "He seems to think you're in some kinda real deep shit."

"Bastard," Angelo mutters, still not looking at me. "Look, ignore him, okay? He just don't like Bonnie. Thinks she's gonna emotionally damage me or something."

"Yeah, well... he *is* the expert," I fire back. There's a picture on the little table near the door, and I pick it up. "This her?" Blonde, blue eyes, a sweet, innocent smile - she looked any more like Paige I'd damn well throw up. Or maybe throw the picture at his head.

"Si, that's her." Angelo heads towards the kitchen, divided by a long bench from the big sitting-room. It's a nice place. Emma got it for him, I think. Sort of a goodbye thing. "Anyway, it's okay. Jono's just projecting, and I'm fine. You don't need to...." He trails off. Don't need to what, care? Bother? Hang around? All of the above, probably.

"Yeah, well, I should get going. Just stopped in to check if Jono was right." I didn't even think to make a noise as I moved up behind him. I don't, unless I think about it. Logan trained me well. "You sure you're okay?" It's a formality, the asking, I don't even mean it.

"I told you I - shit!" He turned halfway to where I'd been, not realizing how close I was. Close enough to see the fresh, swollen black eye, the bruise on his jaw, the scrapes down his cheek that had to be fingernail marks.

I stared, stunned. It couldn't be. He'd been in a fight or something, that was all. Without even realizing it, I lifted up a hand and reached towards the bruises.

He flinched.

"Shit," I muttered, suddenly furious at him. How the hell could he let this happen? He was a damn superhero! He used to have a fucking brain in his head, how could he let himself get into this...

"Get out," he whispers, turning away again so I can't see the bruises anymore. "Just... go."

I glare at him. "You stupid asshole," I say flatly, my voice icy. "She's damn well hitting you, isn't she?" Blunt. Invasive. I don't care. I want a damn answer.

He glares at me out of the corner of his eye, still acting like if he just keeps me from lookin' at it it's not really there. "You think I'm gonna let some chica beat on me, Lee?" he askes coldly. His 'I'm a tough hombre' act. God, I lost count of how many times I've seen this one.

"I think you're too goddam well trained to stop her," I snap back. "You never could lift a hand to a chica, Espinosa. Not even me, not even when I said-"

That woulda gotten a furious snarl outta him, once upon a time. Maybe even a clenched fist. Now all my angry voice does is make him duck his head, look down at the floor, like he thinks I'm gonna hit him too. I feel sick.

"Just leave it alone, Jubes," he mutters wearily. "I told Jono to butt out, and it goes for you too."

I shake my head, fists clenching unconsciously. I have to deliberately uncurl my fingers. "You stupid jerk... how can you just let this happen?"

He looks away, swallowing convulsively. "You don't understand."

"Don't understand what?!" I yell at him, patience gone. "That she just does it 'cause she loves you so much? That she doesn't mean it? Hell, maybe you two just like to play games, huh? She beats the crap out of you then she fucks you?" He flinched again, harder, and I coulda bitten my tongue out. "Dammit, Ange..." I trail off, not sure what to say.

"Leave me the hell alone," he whispers, finally looking at me straight on. "It's not hard. Just remember any time in the last three years and do like that."

Oh, he can NOT go there. "Yeah, lessee... I know, I'll think about the time you sneaked up to my room, screwed me a couple times, then left before dawn. How's that?"

His fingers twitch, but his fists don't close. "Why not?" he taunts me. "Dunno why you would. Wasn't that great. But hey, if that's what you wanna remember..."

I spin around on my heel and stalk towards the door, 'cause if I listen to one more word then bruises or not I'm gonna take a swing at him. Only reason I don't is 'cause I'm scared he won't duck.

It's only when I get to the door that I realize he's playing me. He's always been good at that - saying just the thing that'll make me act before I think. Of course, back then he was usually trying to get me into bed, not get rid of me, but I still recognize the trick. "Nice try, Espinosa," I say coldly, stopping and turning around. "But I'm not going."

He looks at me, and there's a little desperation in his eyes. "Fuck it, Lee, *go*!" he snaps, taking a step towards me. "We ain't had a word for each other for years, now *get out*!"

He's trying to get rid of me now. Really wants me gone. Bad. "When's she get home, Ange? Maybe I'll stick around. Say hi. What do you think?"

He starts looking really desperate now. "No!"

"Why not? Why don't you want me to meet her?" I ask, folding my arms, planting my feet, doing the 'I'm staying put and you can't move me' stance I learned from Logan.

His hands are shaking now, and it's starting to hurt, seeing him like this. "Because... because it'll upset her," he says weakly. "She knows that we were together for a while and..."

"And she'll hit you again?" Damnit, I'm gonna make him say it. I'm gonna make him admit if I have to stand here and bait him all day.

And he looks me right in the eyes, and I want to cry as I see something break inside him. "Yes," he whispers. "She will. Please, Jubes... just go."

He's still looking into my eyes, that deep, searching look he can do that opens me up inside and makes me want to hide behind something. But I can't, and I can't look away. "Don't let this happen." I'm whispering too. "Ange, don't let her do this to you."

"I..." He closes his eyes, and I think it's to hide tears. "She does love me, Jubes... it doesn't happen that often. The rest of the time..."

"The rest of the time isn't worth it! Not when she makes you feel like this!" I reach out again, and ignore the way he flinches when I tilt his chin up to show the bruises better. "God, Ange..."

He opens his eyes, and pins me with that look again. "The rest of the time is more than I ever got from you," he says quietly.

I step back, arm falling to my side.

"You never loved me," he says, stepping forward, even closer now. He doesn't even sound accusing, just matter of fact. "Nobody did. She's all I've got, Lee. I can't give that up, not for a few bruises."

"You didn't love me, either," I counter. My fingernails are digging into my palms. "It was never about love, with us."

"It might have been. If you'd let it. If I'd let it. God, what does it matter?" He turns away, scrubbing a weary hand through his hair. "Just leave me alone."

He can't do this to me. Not now. Not like this. "How might it have been?" I demand. "How? Damnit, Ange, you'd never let me get close, even if I wanted to-"

"Neither would you."

"I didn't want to!" I turn away, and without realizing it I slide my hand through my hair just the way he did. We both have short hair now. "Forget it, okay? It's your damn life. Let Bonnie screw you over your whole life, I don't care. Let her get all Emma-the-Leather-Dominatrix on you, if it gets you hot. Moron."

I turn towards the door.

He hits me.

It's just a pat, really... I've had worse in the Danger Room a thousand times. It's not even a punch, just a round slap against my cheek - doesn't even shake me on my feet as I turn to stare at him.

He stares at me, face going as white as a sheet, and then he collapses to his knees, tears pouring down his face as he starts to shake, hand held out in front of him like he doesn't wanna belong to it anymore.

Then somehow I'm on the floor with him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. "Ange... oh, god, Angie..." I whisper, holding him fiercely. I'll kill her. I'll kill her for hurting him like this.

He burrows his face into my shoulder, gasping out something incoherent as his arms close so tightly around me that I think my ribs'll crack. I don't care. I hug him, stroking the short hair that feels unfamiliar under my fingers, and for once the Ice Bitch has tears in her eyes.

I hold him, and he holds me. Holding on like grim death, like we're drowning, because somehow we've beaten and baited the truth out of each other. For the first time. Maybe the last. Maybe it's just the beginning. All I know is that there is no force on this world that can make me let him go right now, and it scares the hell out of me.

He's holding on just as tight, hands moving convulsively over my back, trying to pull me even closer as his tears soak into my shirt. Just for a moment, I let myself burrow my face against his neck, and he makes a soft noise when he feels the dampness of tears against his skin.

It's not love.... at least, I don't think it is. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this is what love is, feeling stripped and exposed and hurting and nothing mattering in the world except holding him. Maybe it is love. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's enough anyway.

Neither of us move for a while, just holding on tightly as tears drip out of both of us. Then the door opens.

She's there - she really does look like Paige, just a little shorter - looking down at us, that sweet, innocent face twisted in an expression of disgust. "Must you?" she said in a clipped, precise voice, just like Emma's. "I mean... on the rug?"

We both scramble to our feet, teary-eyed and snotty-nosed, and he's looking at her with this mixture of terror and hunger and revulsion that makes my stomach churn. "Bonnie..." he says awkwardly.

"Forget it," she says calmly, carrying a bag of groceries towards the kitchen. "I don't want to hear it, Angelo. Just get rid of her, and then we'll talk."

He looks at me, and I don't know what to do. What to say. I can't say I love him. I don't think I do. I just feel like I can't let go, like I'll die if I can't hold him. That's not enough, not for this.

"This.... is Jubilee," he says uncertainly, still searching my eyes with that piercing gaze. I want to kiss him. More, though, I want to run like hell. I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I let him get inside me that way, expose that part of me...I kept it from him for so long...

"I assumed so," Bonnie says in that smooth, calm voice. "You know I don't like it when you bring those... people into our home, Angelo. It upsets me." He flinches, and her perfect lips curve the slightest bit. "Still. I'm in a good mood."

He flinches again, harder, and I take a step towards him. Just a tiny one. I don't mean to do it, he just looks so goddamn scared... "Nice for you," I say dryly. "Me, I feel like hitting something."

She raises an eyebrow, eyeing me as if I'm something the dog did on her clean rug. "Then I suggest you run off and find a supervillain of some kind to maul," she says sweetly. "My Angelo and I have some things to discuss." She makes it sound like he's a pet.

But his chin comes up a little at those words. "Don't talk to her like that, Bonnie," he says very quietly, like he's half hoping she won't hear.

She does, though, and she actually looks honestly surprised. "Why not?"

"Because..." he swallows hard, and I seriously think about running for it. If he says he loves me...god, I don't know what I'll do. I don't want this. I don't want to have to deal with this, with him, with all the stuff we never ever dealt with... "Because she's a better person than you," he finishes, shoulders tight as he stares at the floor.

I blink.

Bonnie blinks.

He thinks that?

After everything I've done to him, after three years of being the Ice Bitch from hell so nothing can ever hurt me or touch me, he thinks that? God, I think I do love him.

Bonnie's pretty face turns ugly as she snarls, advancing on him. "Don't you DARE talk to me like that!" she hisses, fists already clenched. "Don't you realize how lucky you are that I'm willing to forgive you for this? I could leave you right now, Angelo, I really could!"

He gives me that look again, and this time I look back. What the hell. Sieze the day. He's shaking like a leaf, he's scared out of his wits, but he looks at her, and nods slowly. "So why don't you?"

She narrows her eyes, leaning menacingly towards him. "Maybe I will," she whispers. "You stupid, ungrateful, *ugly* little asshole! You don't deserve me!"

Angelo flinches with every word, his eyes sliding back down to the floor, the moment of rebellion seeming to desert him. Her lips curve with victory, and she pulls back her fist.

I want to help, I want to stop her, but I can't. I *can't*. I can't save him, he has to do it himself...oh God, Angie, forgive me, I can't help you now......

The fist sails towards his face.

So fast I barely even see it, his hand snaps up to grab her wrist. I hear a crunching sound, and she screams, a high-pitched shriek of shock and pain.

"No," he whispers. He lets go of her wrist, and she collapses to the floor, clutching her wrist and wailing hysterically. "Jubilee, could you call an ambulance, please?"

"For HER? Why?!" I demand, bursting with pride. He did it! He defied her! Me, I say we kill her. I know lots of good places to hide a body.

"Because I want her out of my home," he says, still in that preternaturally calm voice. "And I think I broke her wrist."

Right, well, when he puts it like that... I call. The ambulance arrives, and the EMT asks Ange what happened. He tells her, calmly and unemotionally, and she looks surprised, but she takes Bonnie away and promises to send the cops around. She asks Ange if he wants to press charges. He says no, just as long as she stays away from him. Then they're all gone, and he just folds up, sitting on the floor and crying like his world just ended.

It's harder to go to him, this time. This time it's a commitment. I hate commitment.

I kneel in front of him, reaching out to take his hands in mine. Slowly he looks up, and there's a betrayed look in his eyes. "Backing off already?" he askes in a bitter, thready voice.

"I.... I dunno." I look down at our linked hands. "Ange... all the things we said three years ago still hold." I want to hold him, I want to kiss him, I want to run, I want to rip our clothes off and fuck like there's not going to be a tomorrow, I want to say we're still friends....

"No they don't." He reaches out to touch my cheek. His fingers come away wet. "Like it or not, Jubes, I've seen inside you now. And you've seen inside me. Shit, that scares me..."

"Me too," I admit reluctantly. "Ange, I can't do this again. I can't... open up like this again."

"Neither can I," he says, eyes shadowed. "I wish it hadn't happened at all."

"Me too," I say again, meeting his eyes. There's hurt there, and regret, and....hope. For me? For us? "Ange... you were brave," I whisper. "Really damn brave."

"I was terrified," he admits wryly. "I feel...weak, I guess. For letting her terrify me for so long. I never wanted you to see me that way."

He admits it, and that makes it easier to say. "I know," I say softly. "I felt the same way."

"But now we have." His hands fold around mine. It's almost a caress, almost a challenge. "It won't happen again."

"No," I agree, closing my eyes as my fingers tighten around his. "Never."

I half expect him to kiss me in that moment. To drug me with the soft, fierce caress he uses so well. But he doesn't. Instead he sighs softly, rubbing a thumb gently over the back of my hand. "We've both changed."

I open my eyes, almost afraid to look at him. If he's giving me that look again, I'll run. I won't be able to help it. I feel too exposed right now. If he looks down into my soul again, I'll never be able to look back.

But he doesn't... he just looks at me. An ordinary look. And his eyes are just soft, brown eyes. "We could try," he says quietly.

I try out a smile. It's kinda shaky, but it feels pretty good. "We can try," I agree. It's not a commitment to anything, and he's hardly in any shape to try and push for love. I can live with trying. "But no promises."

"Not my thing anyway," he says, and there's a tiny hint of a smile there. "Uh... you want some coffee?"

"Coffee." I blink a bit at the non sequiteur. But it's good. Non-commital. "Coffee sounds good."

I watch him get up, and walk to the kitchen. I don't want to be in love with him. I don't want to open myself up to him.

And I won't.

But coffee's a start.

FIN