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FIC: Summer's End, 7/?, PG13/R, W/R

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  • fyrdrakken@JUNO.COM
    DISCLAIMERS REPOSTED IN PART 0 * * * It was nearly 2am, and Logan was going down to the school’s computer lab to — he could barely believe it — check his
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 9, 2001
      DISCLAIMERS REPOSTED IN PART 0

      * * *

      It was nearly 2am, and Logan was going down to the school’s computer lab
      to — he could barely believe it — check his e-mail.

      Thankfully, the lab was empty. (As he had hoped the late hour would
      ensure.) Also thankfully, the computers were still on, albeit with the
      screen savers running. He frowned at the branching pipework assembling
      itself across the nearest darkened screen, gingerly seating himself
      before the largely unfamiliar equipment. Fortunately his elbow joggled
      the mouse while he was still wondering how to make the computer work
      properly, disabling the screen saver and returning the monitor to the
      desktop he remembered Marie having shown him the previous week.

      /"See, you click on the little wheel — like a ship’s wheel..."/

      It took some fumbling and false starts, but he got the pointer to the
      Navigator icon. After repeated annoyed clicking of the mouse buttons, he
      finally managed to double-click and open the program. It took a few tries
      before he remembered to include the ":" after the "http," but eventually
      he managed to pull up the Hotmail screen.

      /"One hundred seventy-five? How the hell can there be that many people
      already using the name ‘Wolverine’?"

      With a little giggle, "Maybe there are a lot of Michigan football
      fans..."/

      The password was easy enough to remember — Marie had chosen it... The
      screen it sent him to was confusingly cluttered, but he remembered to
      click on the little "Inbox" to the left, and when it pulled up his
      messages there it was... "Hey, sugar!" from _Marie Gordon_. By now having
      the idea to click on the little underlined words, he managed to pull up
      the message text by clicking on Marie’s name, and read:

      "Logan,

      I don’t have a lot of time before I get booted off the computer to let
      someone else on for school stuff, but I just wanted to drop you a line.
      It’s been interesting so far, and I have a lot less secrets here than I
      did at Xavier’s — and a job opening for you. I’ll try to call when I
      can...

      Love,
      Marie"

      He couldn’t keep from grinning at that, just a little bit — so they
      hadn’t gone to all the trouble of setting this account up for nothing.
      And if that "job opening" meant what it looked like — could he be moving
      to Frost’s Academy? If it got him back to Marie, he was willing enough...

      That bit about having a lot less secrets, though — that might be
      worrisome. Examining his options in all the little pale blue buttons, he
      tried "Reply" and was rewarded with a blank message to
      <rogue_belle2001@...>:

      "baby,

      i managed to figure out how to work the damn computer and i read your
      message. i want to hear more about that job you got lined up for me" —
      frowning as a thought occurred to him — "and what did you mean by having
      less secrets there? if that means you can’t really talk to me on the
      computer, that’s fine — you got my number.

      love,
      logan"

      He eyed the message thoughtfully, wondering if there was anything to add
      or remove, before hitting "Send."

      Really, that signature said the most important thing.

      Satisfied that his first unguided foray onto the internet had gone so
      well, he found the "Passport log out" button and left the computer
      without bothering to close the Navigator window. This called for a beer.

      * * *

      Steps were taken to ensure that no existing e-mail accounts were
      infringed upon in the creation of this fic... ;-)

      FyrDrakken
      She Whose Quotations Are Both Exotic and Appropriate
      Keeper of his Deadly Startle Reflexes, Guardian and Examiner of the
      Adamantium-Revealing X-Rays, and Official Listener for the Occasional
      Aussie Vowels

      "Okay, this is going to hurt quite a bit, but, I suppose, that's the
      entire POINT. I'm aiming for obscene agony, so if it's just merely
      unbearable, DO say something."
      -- Johnny C, JOHNNY THE HOMICIDAL MANIAC #6, by Jhonen Vasquez
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