Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

And Marie gestured to the neon-covered building before them apprehensively, her long white stripes fluttering about her face. They were standing in front of Jubie’s contact’s place, waiting beside a bouncer who made even Pyotr look short. The scene was chaotic: Every drunk in Nevada seemed to be stumbling, howling and singing less-than-tunefully at the top of their lungs, all of them giving her, Kitty and Jubes the glad eye and making with the grabby hands. One particularly dense drink of water in a White Sox shirt made to grab Jubie’s ass and she paffed the sonofabitch, blinding him and knocking him backwards-

“Fuck you!” all three girls growled in unison.

He laughed as he landed on his backside. “That mutant hooker totally used her powers on me, dude!” he crowed, high-fiving the guy to his right as he stumbled away.

Rogue shot Jubes a See what Ah mean look then. “So we’re mutant hookers now, are we?”

Jubes rolled her eyes. “We’re standing in Las Vegas’ only mutant-run whorehouse,” she retorted. “And we’re all wearing head-to-toe black leather. Of course they think we’re hookers. But we know we’re not so roll with the punches, Roguey.”

“You roll with them.” Another obviously suicidal drunk tried to grab Marie and she kneed him in the balls. Twice. Even Kitty winced. “Ah’m here to get in, find out what you need to know and then get the Hell out,” Marie was growling. “Ah ain’t getting felt up for anyone, even Logan-”

“But you could totally make a living at it, sweetheart,” a voice chimed for behind her. “The attitude and the outfit both scream dominant, you know?”

And all three women turned to see a stunning Amazonian woman with beautifully scaled peacock-blue skin standing, hands on hips. She was grinning dryly at Marie, holding her hand out. “You must be Rogue,” she said. “I’m Stacey. Welcome to my place.” She nodded to Jubes, smile widening. “You didn’t lie, chica,” Stacey drawled. “Baby girl’s a stunner. Now I can see why Logan was so smitten…” She licked her lips, shook her head. “Tamzin is going to be gutted when she sees her.”

“And Tamzin is..?” Marie demanded.

“Our headliner. That’s her there.” Stacey gestured towards the raised stage in the middle of the room where a gorgeous redhead with black, lizard-like wings was swinging around a pole. The crowd seemed enthralled by her. “Every time Logan comes here she makes a play,” Stacey was explaining, “And every time he shoots her down-”

Marie snorted. “Ah seriously doubt that; He likes redheads.” And her expression turned closed, angry. Mouth twisting in a bitter line. It was the same broken-hearted look she’d been wearing when she’d stormed into the Blackbird last night and once again Jubie felt a thrill of unease at how unhappy her friend seemed to be.

Jesus Wolvie, she thought, What the fuck did you do to our girl?

Stacey finally seemed to register how upset the young woman was because she smiled with forced calmness and gestured towards the door. “Maybe so,” she said politely. “But since you said time is a factor, perhaps we could discuss this in my office?”

The three girls were ushered into an enormous, wall-to-wall glass and champagne-white box, the kinda place where Jubes was always afraid her thoughts would stain the furniture. Stacey gestured to a plush stuffed leather couch and they took a seat. “This is everything I have on Forge,” Stacey began, handing them dossiers. A man who had once been handsome stared back at Jubes from a photo, a series of dark tats covering his neck and arms. He looked like he’d been to Hell and back but hadn’t made the return journey all in one piece. “He’s well known locally, well liked,” Stacey was saying. “No convictions, no ties with the Mob, which Christ knows ain’t easy in this town. He specialises in incarceration systems for dangerous mutants: He designed Eric Lensherr’s plastic prison, for example. And some of the more…specialised equipment here in the X Ranch.” Her grin turned leering, eyes far away. Jubie decided she didn’t wanna know. “He knows Logan,” Stacey continued after a moment, clearing her throat. “They go back to before Vietnam, if the drunken stories are anything to go by-”

“They’re friends?” Kitty blinked in surprise. “Sensei never mentioned that.”

“I imagine there’s plenty he does here that your sensei never mentioned.” The older woman sounded slightly patronising though Kitty being Kitty didn’t react. Marie rolled her eyes. “But if Forge is involved,” the older woman continued, “then it’s not voluntarily, I can tell you that now. Man wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Y’all sound awfully convinced,” Marie growled.

“You might say we have a professional relationship. In fact, I gave him a call, told him to expect you-” At Rogue’s annoyed expression she held out a placating hand. “I mean, I told him a couple of my girls would be paying him a visit. Gratis, for his customer loyalty. That way if three lookers in leather turn up he won’t be surprised.” She shrugged. “It’s the only way in: That compound’s locked down tighter than Senator Osborne’s panty drawer-”

“But if he’s such a good customer,” Kitty asked, “Then why would you shop him to us?”

Stacey’s look was calculating. “Like I said, I don’t think he’s involved, at least voluntarily. But if he is our association could bring…repercussions which I might not like.” She shrugged. “When Logan’s pissed, shit tends to go boom. He’s gonna get out of this, I have no doubt of that, and when he does he’s not going to stop and ask questions, he’s just going to attack- Especially if it involves you three. Best to be able to say I lent a hand in the jailbreak if asked.” Again that calculating look swept over the three women, though her gaze lingered slightly on Rogue. “Besides,” the Madame continued after a moment, “I still owe Jubes there, and I like to pay my debts. That’s just smart.” She gestured to the door and an absolutely massive bald man appeared as if summoned by magic. “Archibald will take you out to the compound,” she said. “You’ll use the company car, that way they’ll know I sent you. Have a talk with Forge and find out where he sent Logan.” She stood, straightening her Armani business suit. “And Jubilee,” she added with a final toss of her lovely head, “our debt is cancelled, is that clear?”

Jubie nodded. “As the mighty Mississippi.” The older woman gave a final nod and then she was gone. But Jubes didn’t like this: Her Wolvie sense was a-tingling and experience told her massive property damage and loss of limb were on their way. Besides, she’d never known Stacey to be this forthcoming if there wasn’t anything in it for her… So clearly something was. But what could it be?

A beat.

“So you’re thinking trap?” Kitty asked her quietly then. Jubes couldn’t help but notice that Archibald seemed really fucking well armed for a simple chauffeur- And that he was about to drive them into the Nevada desert, which couldn’t be a good sign.

“Fuck yeah,” she muttered, “I’ve been thinking that since we left Stark’s office.” She blew hair through her bangs. “I just don’t see another choice. If we want to find our Wolvie, we gotta follow his trail.” She nodded to Rogue, who was still staring at the redhead Stacey had said Logan kept turning down. Her expression was angry, sad. Un-fucking-Rogue-like. It was painful see. “Besides,” Jubes continued after a moment, waving her worry away, “We’re the best of the best at what we do, and we’re totally prepared: We can handle this.” She grinned tightly at Kitty, hoping her confidence would travel. “They won’t hear us coming over the sound of our awesomeness, chica,” she said with certainty-

She just really hoped she wasn’t blowing smoke up her girls’ ass.