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FIC: One of Those Dreams (Rogue/Pyro) (PG-13) (X2)

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    Title: One of Those Dreams By: X x0832001@yahoo.com Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am getting no money. There is no reason to sue me. Summary: A very short
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 1, 2003
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      Title: One of Those Dreams
      By: X
      x0832001@...

      Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am getting no money.
      There is no reason to sue me.

      Summary: A very short sequel to �Friendship�s
      Sacrifice�. Rogue has a nighttime ritual, and it�s
      all John�s fault.

      A/N: There was a lot of request for a sequel to
      �Friendship�s Sacrifice�. I really didn�t have much
      of an idea until I found
      (http://www.dymphna.net/challenge/). It generates
      random person-emotion-object combinations.
      Rogue-Dead-Cigarettes inspired me to write a little
      more.


      Warm, soft lips were traveling up and down her throat,
      pausing at the wonderful soft spot just under the jaw.
      She could feel hands tracing lazy circles in her hair
      as her own hand slid across soft skin overlaying
      taught muscle on a man�s stomach. She moved her hand
      reviling in the feel of skin on skin. She felt
      herself writhing from the sensation he was evoking.
      She moaned happily. Her hand slithered around his
      side, across his ribs to the back of his shoulder and
      she pulled him even closer. She moaned again. Then
      his lips found hers and they were kissing
      passionately. Rogue awoke with a gasp. It had been
      one of those dreams.

      Those were dreams she shouldn�t have been having, the
      whole idea of them a fantasy that would never come to
      pass. They couldn�t her skin was poison and she just
      had to deal with that. If she was having them, they
      should at least have been about Bobby. She and Bobby
      had been dating for months now. They�d had a couple
      of quick kisses, but nothing like her dream. You
      would expect that Bobby would have been the boy in her
      dream. Maybe she�d feel less conflicted if it was.
      But the hair that had brushed against her cheek was
      longer, darker. It was John Allerdyce in all of these
      intense dreams; and this was certainly not the first
      time she�d had one.

      So Rogue did what she always did after one of those
      dreams, she silently slipped from her bed, careful not
      to wake the sleeping Kitty or Jubilee. She pulled on
      her robe, slippers and quietly shut the door behind
      her. She crept down to the kitchen, not drawing the
      attention of any lingering night owls. She opened the
      back door and sat on the little porch that was on the
      other side. She sat down in the white plastic seat
      pulled out a teal pack of cigarettes from her robe.
      Marie sighed. She stared at the lighter as she lit
      the cancer stick. She inhaled the smoke and didn�t
      care it was killing her. She normally didn�t smoke,
      she was a good girl. Good girls didn�t do things that
      would make them dead. But those dreams were so full
      of, of stuff. She didn�t want to be the good girl
      after she�d had one. The dreams hadn�t started after
      she�d read the letter; she�d had them before. But
      with the secret knowledge of how John felt swimming
      around in her mind with no outlet, the dreams were
      more frequent and intense than ever before. Damn
      whatever teacher who�d shown the young John Allerdyce
      to hold a pen.

      She took a deep puff and exhaled. No one had ever
      written her a letter like that before. It was
      beautiful, a side of John he never let anyone see. He
      kept up that delinquent, shallow, carefree air so no
      one suspected he had another part to him. But the
      letter he had written was physical proof it existed.
      He had cared about her so much; his words were
      drenched with that idea. But he was also a devoted
      friend, he couldn�t hurt Bobby. He was willing to
      deny himself happiness for his friend. There were
      those that sneered at the mention of his name, rolled
      their eyes when they came across something that
      indicated he had once lived among them. Those people
      didn�t know about John, that he was more complex then
      he let on.

      Things were just so complicated now. She looked at
      the warm orange glow at the end of her cigarette. It
      reminded her of that day at the mall and made her
      grin. �I can�t help it if your girlfriend�s getting
      excited� �I don�t think she�s getting excited.� Oh,
      but Marie had been. She loved that free-ness John
      had. That attitude that no one was going to control
      him, dictate his actions. He was always in control.
      She envied that because she wasn�t. She pulled
      another drag off of the cigarette and blew the white
      smoke upwards. She�d never smoke during the day, when
      people might see. She was a good girl after all.
      They couldn�t know about this dirty little habit. She
      suspected Logan might know, what with the heightened
      senses and that distinctive tobacco smell that
      lingered in hair and clothes. Sure she showered in
      the morning and kept her cigarette containing robe
      isolated, but Logan had a super nose. Of course, if
      Logan knew he didn�t say anything.

      She wasn�t in control of her personal life and wasn�t
      in control of her powers. One touch and she could
      drain away a person�s life. Her skin was a thief,
      stealing away the life-force, the powers, and the
      memories of anyone it touched. Everyone else had
      learned control, could use their powers as they
      wanted. Sure she�d used her powers to help, but they
      were in control, not her. To be honest, if she were
      in control of her life and her powers she�d make one
      of those dreams come true.

      Thinking of John made her wonder what life would be
      like if she were in control. Guilt edged in to her
      thoughts. Bobby was her boyfriend she should be
      learning control for him, so they could be closer.
      But she wasn�t even sure she wanted to be closer to
      Bobby. He was a great friend; she would hate to lose
      that. Bobby filled a space in her no one else could.
      Marie just wasn�t sure this place he filled was the
      boyfriend, love of your life kind of place. She
      inhaled more smoke and let it linger in her mouth a
      moment, tickling her, before she blew it out.

      The cigarette in he fingers was burning down. She
      could feel the warmth on her finger tips. She�d
      finished another cigarette but wasn�t any closer to
      resolving her conflict. She was confused about what
      she felt for Bobby, still confused about the John
      situation, and she was still going to have those
      dreams. But, she could live with that. They were
      great while they lasted, and maybe she could work out
      this post dream stuff before winter. Because coming
      out here to smoke during the cold of an upstate New
      York winter would be lame. Also cigarettes were
      expensive. But, on a warm April night when the pack
      was still most of the way full, she really couldn�t
      complain too much that she�d had another one of those
      dreams and was outside thinking about John Allerdyce.




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