Summary

A curious invitation finds its way to the boarders of SSX, setting off the beginning of something bigger than anyone could have anticipated.

Author's Note

If you want the full effect of the fiction, don't read this note and go straight into the story.

For everyone else who wants to know what they are getting into here is some story info.

This is a murder/mystery story. I've rated it a T for now, but I'll look to reviewers later on to see if I should bump it to M. It contains copious amount of character death. It has bloody, mildly gory descriptions and some cursing that will escalate as the story moves along. The romance is only as deep as any Dane Cook movie, sans sex. It's set at the beginning of the On Tour season ignoring the existence of Blur and of any skiers I may or may not have never played in the On Tour game. Nobody likes them anyway. ; ) Everyone starts out at the On Tour tracks but we find up back on the SSX3 mountain, which I've dubbed Triple Peaks until/unless I can find it's true name. The first chapter is a sorta teaser, get this fic up so I can get some feedback to fuel my motivation tanks. It's tame in all meanings of the word, but it'll pick up soon.
Oh, and I apologize for starting it out with Nate and Elise. It's a habit, I love them together, and I haven't written in a while so I've just got to ease myself out of it. The story will be in many different perspectives.

Also, don't hesitate to write about any mistakes, typos, out-of-character-ness or discrepancies. I want to make this fanfiction the best it can be, so any comments you think of while reading would be great to include should you chose to review. I'll be updating little things in past chapters through the entire story.

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Chapter One: Fan Mail

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"You got mail sweet cheeks."

Elise looked up from her bikini-clad position on the pool recliner to see a tall pasty thirty-four year old hovering over her at a slightly disturbing distance. Lack of distance, rather, as his groin was much too close to her head for anyone's liking. The man was one of two brothers, Rob and Bob, running a very cheap board shop, called, surprisingly enough, Rob and Bob's Board Shop. What Rob lacked in virtue and intelligence Bob made up for with a lack of personal hygiene and even less intelligence. Something about the way the two looked at the teenagers on the mountain made Elise want to castrate them. She put down her magazine and gently (slow movements concealed the disgust bubbling beneath) took the envelope from his fingers. It was the cleanest white letter she had ever seen, excluding Rob's dirty fingerprints, and very professional, with a border of alternating blue and purple stripes. The address line was handwritten in neat, easily legible cursive. "Thanks Rob... nice of you to deliver it to me on my spa day..."

"Aooww, it ain't no problem sugar, I was looking for you anyway. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. And everyone knows you always at old Koobski's Spa."

"What is it?" She didn't mention how this was the first time she'd ever used the spa and hadn't told anyone else she's be there.

"Well obviously we got our mail in today, but that idjut Nate Logan never picks his up. Would you deliver this for us? He nearly took of my dang head the last time I did." He handed Elise a 'massive' pile of mail consisting of one bulky manila envelope and two letters, one in a grey slip and the other identical to the one he had given her..

"Well we wouldn't want to have all this cluttering up your boxes." Elise took the mail and got up, relishing how little time she had to spend with the man while she was in a bathing suit. "I'm on it."

He tipped is disturbingly boyish ball cap at her and gave her a wink. "Thank you honey."

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A quick clothing change later Elise found herself straddling Zoë's borrowed snowmobile and riding out through the Between the Sheets racetrack looking for Nate. The crazy mountain man could never be found when he was needed. But she had to be grateful for the small things, of course. At least she didn't have to search for him at one in the morning. Elise didn't take the sun for granted.

Fortunately for her the sasquatch was just finishing a run on Hot Dam and came swerving just off the last bank. Unfortunately he was going at least sixty and hit her snowmobile hood dead center with a BANG then snow with an OOOF. Elise swerved on a too-late reaction time and sent the 'mobile spinning sideways and her flying off into a snow bank.

"What the HELL Logan?!"

The man in question lifted his body from the snow. "I might ask you the same question, Riggs." He brushed snow from his ragged shirt. "What were you doing, speeding that snowmobile at fifteen miles per hour? You're gonna hurt somebody. You could have broken my ankles." He unbuckled his boots from the board and trudged over to Elise, offering a hand. Coarse words aside they had developed a partially-woven friendship. Both the same age, and the oldest on the tour if one didn't count Psymon (and who ever did?), they had come together subconsciously amongst the raging youth who now dominated the sport. Elise felt wistful at the thought, but being almost thirty did that to a girl.

From her point on the ground he seemed ten feet tall and large enough to really be a bigfoot. His unkempt hair and general scruffiness added to the look. She took his gloved hand and uttered a thanks as he pulled her up without effort.

They both trudged to the snowmobile and surveyed the pathetic looking vehicle, helplessly laying on its side and likely wishing it was more than an inanimate object. Two sets of hands righted the fallen beast and Elise took her spot on the seat, perched sidesaddle and facing Nate. "So anyway, cowboy, I came out here for a reason. Old Pedophile Paul wanted me to deliver your massive amounts of fan mail, since it was blocking all of our neglected, empty mail slots. He stalked me all the way to the spa to ask and I had to haul almost two months of your mail all the way up here. A girl with my looks shouldn't have to work this hard." She handed him the three small items from her jacket pocket. Fortunately it had sustained no snow damage from the spill.

"Damn woman, you've got the strength of ten small children. And do I detect a hint of bitterness?" He took the mail and gave it a once over.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off cynical. I just haven't been satisfied since the circuit settled here."

Nate nodded knowingly. Big Mountain hadn't been all it was cracked up to be. Skiers, to name most of their problems in one breath. "Hey, my glow sticks came in." Elise rolled her eyes. Nate flipped past the grey letter and scanned the front of the fancy letter similar to the one Elise received earlier. "What's with this?"

Elise shrugged. "I dunno, I got one, too." Nate began ripping the seal. "Hey, it's freezing up here. Let's go back to the lodge or the cafe and read it where we aren't prone to developing frostbite."

Nate glanced at his board. "Hey miss powder queen, how about giving this old cowpoke a ride down the mountain, eh?"

Elise turned and straddled the snowmobile again.

"Is that a yes?"

She started up the engine and began to slowly accelerate, turning back to smile and pat the seat behind her as she slid down the slope. "Hurry up cowboy. I'm driving."

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The ride was bumpy but once Nate urged her to pick up the pace they flew down the slope and made it to the village in no time, letters stashed in pockets and snowboard strapped to Nate's back. Skidding into the iced-over main parking lot they surveyed the scene.

"You can let go of me Logan."

Nate unhooked his harms from around her midsection with a laugh. "Sorry, habit."

"Looks like the cafe wasn't such a great idea after all."

Nate made a similar observation. "Yuck."

The small cafe, stocked by the madly commercial Yeti Dog Food Company and advertised for by the same, was jammed full of tourists. Mostly beginning skiers by the looks of the half dozen pairs leaning against tables.

"Okay, we're out of here." Elise twisted the handle and started for the street.

"Hey, wait, didn't Psymon open a restaurant? I mean, if you have active life insurance."

"Oh yeah... that's this way right?" After a nod of confirmation Elise wheeled around. Nate grabbed her around the middle to keep from flinging off the 'mobile as she rounded a corner into an alley.

A small adventure later, after missing narrow paths and narrowly missing pedestrians, they arrived at a large bright red building. Psymon's Restaurant, the sign read. 'He always was straightforward.' Elise thought with humor as the scoped the place out. There were tables outside and in, and a large counter seen inside through the window-wall face of the buildings. The seats outside were partially buried in white powder so they opted for an indoor seat. It was the most welcoming sight Elise had seen all day; not a soul in sight. Yet it was clear as they parked the snowmobile and entered the building that a questionably lost soul was present. A familiar spiky-haired lunatic sat behind the counter, devouring a long sub sandwich with terrifying haste. No, Elise realized when she drew closer, devouring two sandwiches with terrifying haste. And precision.

"Hey Psymon, how about some grub?" Nate banged his arm on the counter.

Psymon shook his head wildly from side to side. "I gave myself the day off, man."

Nate glared at him, but Elise steered him to a seat by the windows. "Lets' just get these letters open. Hey, maybe we won something."

Nate grudgingly took a seat opposite her at a four chair table. They pulled out their letters again. Elise studied the front of the envelope again, savoring the little moment of mystery as Nate ripped his letter open. There wasn't much mystery in her life these days, and even less excitement. She tapped the envelope on the table, making sure its contents were out of harms way, then carefully tore opened the short end of the letter. Holding it sideways a folded paper fell into her hands. She opened it carefully, breath drawn. A slim card fell onto the table. 'A plane ticket?' She looked at it for a few seconds then returned to the letter. It was on heavy, textured paper, and looked hand written in ink. 'Impressive.' She began reading.

'Elise Riggs,

Canadian bombshell and queen of the circuit. You've
gotten gold on nearly every race you enter and always
come out with the long end of the stick. Let me assure you
this comes not from a jealous rival but a sincere fan of
your abilities. You have come a long way since your humble
beginnings and it's been a pleasure watching you advance.
To commemorate your accomplishments allow me to extend
this invitation to you for a celebratory two night stay on
Triple Peaks Mountain. I'm sure you are familiar with the
location. We will be staying in the Black Lodge on Peak 3.
As you are a cherished veteran you get a luxury suite, newly
refurbished. A plane ticket has been provided. Powder Pete
will be flying you and six others to the mountain on the 17th.
You are allowed any amount of luggage you can carry.

P.S. Bring your snowboards!'

The letter wasn't signed. 'Bring your own snowboards, it says. As if it needs to tell me!' Elise couldn't think of anything better than an almost-empty mountain at the launch of the snowboarding season. Fresh snow, no media, three days and two nights to tear it up. And, apparently, partying between races. "Fantastico!"

"Woo-hoo!" Nate added jovially, finishing his letter. "Is it just me or is this too good to be true?"

"OH, it's YOU, mountain freak!"

They both jumped at the booming voice; Psymon had finished his sandwiches and had teleported right to the front of their table. "We're getting a free hookup to party central!" He fist pumped the air several times, gravity barely restraining him to the floor.

"You got the letter, too?" Elise couldn't believe it. Not that she didn't like Psymon, mostly, but she had expected to be riding with mostly strangers.

"You bet!" Psymon whirled around, showing them were an identical blue and purple bordered envelope was stapled to the back of his wife beater. "All expenses paid! No ski patrol! No out of bounds!"

"Wow, are you all going, too?"

The three of them looked to the door of the restaurant. Lean, wildly dressed and always pumped up, some boarders called her Royal Payne. Others liked to call her Zoë.

"That's so wild, we all got the same invitation!" She stomped over to their table, sitting down assertively next to Elise. "So are you guys going or what?"

Psymon scoffed. "Of course I'm going, can you imagine? No lines, no pedestrians, no..." He made a hugely exaggerated gulp and pretended to swoon, landing on his back on the floor. "No skiers..."

"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about!" Zoe gave him a high-five.

"So," Elise interjected, "Do you know who else is going?"

Zoe nodded, reclining back in her chair. She made sprawling an art form. "Allegra, Kaori, and Mac got invites. And I was talking with Moby on the phone... and he's got one too!" Elise and Nate both couldn't help but smile at the pure glee in her voice. Zoë slammed her palms on the table. "It's gonna be ha-a-awesome!"

"The plane leaves at noon tomorrow." Nate announced, getting up from the table. It was a signal that the conversation was over.

'He's probably missing being lost in the wilderness.' Elise thought wryly. She stood too, and Zoe followed suit. Psymon waved at them from the floor.

Outside into the cold Elise was feeling like she hadn't in almost two years. There was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, joy, and, like a little girl on Christmas Eve, the anticipation of something exciting waiting just around the corner. She couldn't see her life getting any better than it was right now.

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Somewhere in southern Canada the manager of The Yeti Dog Food Company looked over the strangest special order he'd seen in years. It wasn't his place to question who wanted what food and why, and he was glad, because he wasn't sure what somebody wanted with 30 whole turkeys, 30 pounds of green beans, and 50 pounds of baked potatoes, all pre-cooked. Was somebody lacking professional cooks planning to feed a circus? Were they expecting a pandemic and stockpiling food? And why did they have to make it complicated, requesting the food to be divided up and delivered to five different addresses on the same Triple Peaks Mountain, USA?

He sighed and faxed the order to the shipping factory located closest to the mountain.

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