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Fic: Interlude: Slave Lake - 1/1 [L/R]

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  • victoria p.
    Title: Interlude: Slave Lake Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@att.net] Series: Crossing Canada Summary: Logan runs. Rogue follows. Rating: PG-13 for language
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 1, 2001
      Title: Interlude: Slave Lake
      Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
      Series: Crossing Canada
      Summary: Logan runs. Rogue follows.
      Rating: PG-13 for language
      Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of
      fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
      Archive: If you've already got my stuff, yes. If not, please just let me
      know you're taking it.
      Feedback: Is better than chocolate.
      Notes: Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete. I got my hair cut short on Tuesday
      for the first time in a couple of years, and I'm getting used to it again...
      the highlighting will commence shortly, so wish me luck. Why yes, I am
      obsessed with my hair. <g>

      Oh, and in case there's confusion, the order goes: Interview #1, Interlude:
      Clyde to Athabasca, Interview #2, Interview #3, Interlude: The Wily Moose,
      and Interlude: Slave Lake.

      < > indicates thoughts


      Interlude: Slave Lake

      She rode through the night, hoping Mystique wasn't on her trail and praying
      that Sabretooth wasn't with her.

      <Shit, shit, shit. I really stepped in it this time. I knew I should have
      dyed my hair after Edmonton.>

      She called Bobby when she arrived at Slave Lake. "What happened to the guys
      from Edmonton?> she asked without preamble.

      "Two were released from the hospital after getting bandaged up, but one's
      still in pretty bad shape. You broke some ribs and one of 'em punctured a
      lung. He also had damage to his kidneys. You really worked him over, babe."
      Bobby paused, then, "You wanna come home? Storm and I will come get you.
      Just say the word."

      "I don't think so, sugar. I'm close, so close, Bobby. I just know it. I met
      a friend of his, a woman --" Bobby snorted, but Rogue ignored him, "Margie.
      She was really nice to me. Not one of his girlfriends, but an older lady,
      like the Professor." She took a deep breath. "If I don't find him by the
      Monday of Thanksgiving week, I'll come home, I swear. You can come get me
      and say, 'I told you so,' the whole ride.

      "But I, I just need to see this through, Bobby. I need to know why he left,
      and why he's fucking his way across the Great White North. And why--" her
      voice broke, "why he can't see how I feel." She mentioned nothing about
      Mystique. She knew if she did, Bobby, and the rest of the team, would be
      there before she could turn around twice. And she didn't want that.

      Bobby sighed. He'd been through this with her for the past six years. Even
      during the short time they'd dated, she'd spent more time trying to attract
      Logan than she had him. "I know, Rogue. He's an asshole who doesn't deserve
      you. I'll freeze his nuts off if he hurts you, and Johnny will set him on

      That made her laugh and she was able to end the phone call on a good note.

      She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was her main vanity. It
      was long -- to the middle of her back -- and glossy, and the two white
      stripes made it distinctive. It had to go. She'd stopped at Apple Drugs and
      picked up what she needed.

      Unceremoniously, she chopped at it with the scissors she'd bought, afraid to
      go get it cut professionally because of her skin. Soon, the wastebasket in
      the bathroom of her motel room was filled with her hair and a new, sleeker
      Rogue stared back. She'd cut it so it curled just under her chin. God, she
      felt naked without the curtain of hair to hide behind.

      Next, she pulled out the box of hair coloring. It was "Midnight" according
      to the box. She just hoped it would cover the white adequately. After pacing
      for thirty minutes with the stinky chemical gloop on her head, she hopped in
      the shower and washed it all out.

      Then, it was back to the mirror. <Oh God,> she thought, <I look like
      Wednesday Addams.> Her natural pallor faded to a deathly luminescence, made
      even paler by the ivory concealer she smoother over her cheeks, and the dark
      purple lipstick she applied.

      "Goth-Rogue," she said out loud, giggling. "Remy would say I looked like
      something out of an Anne Rice novel."

      As disguises go, it wasn't much, but she hoped it would be enough.




      “That’s one more kid who’ll never get to go to school / Never get to fall in
      love / Never get to be cool” – “Rockin’ in the Free World” – Neil Young


      The Muse's Fool - http://victoria_jp.tripod.com/home.htm
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