Disclaimers in chapter 1 ---
Chapter 2, Alone
It was strange really. The whole concept of being alone. 20 years of life was all that he could remember, and still, it never occured to him until just recently that he would be alone for the rest of his life. Given, he spent most of his days beating grown men up, and most of his nights sleeping with any woman willing, but he was still *alone*.
Never in his knowledge, had he ever known of a place as home. Or had people to call his family. He thought he had this at Xavier's mansion. A seregate father type figure in the proffessor, a friend in Ororo, hell, even a brother in Scott. And maybe deep down, he still did think of them as such. But ever since he walked into that building and discovered that Marie no longer inhabited its walls, that's all it was to him. Walls. And strangers.
He liked to think of it as Marie just being a scrawny kid that he picked up from the back of his trailor. And that because she was the only person he ever took time out of his own life to worry about, that's why he felt such a strong need to protect her. Coming to the mansion together only insured that they were a pair. No matter what happened to them before their life came to this, they were now in it all together. To the end. Never before had he ever had to think about someone else. Or worry that they were doing okay. Before Marie, he never had a friend. Never had a family. *She* was his family. Not the pretty pictured mansion with its comfortable living arrangements and nice people package. So in all actuallity, he wasn't coming back for a home. Or for Jean, as most people presumed. He was coming back for a family, and with Marie not there, he now had nothing.
He asked the proffessor where she went, but Xavier was quite evasive in his answering. Giving him remarks about how she was grown up, and needed to do things on her own. How she requested they not check up on her, because that would be like saying they didn't trust her. And defeated, he just nodded his head, packed up his bags and left. Didn't bother to answer the questions of Jean and Ororo as he gunned the engine to Scott's old bike that he now permamently considered his own. Driving down the long and winding driveway of the mansion grounds, he realized with a sinking feeling that he'd spent four years too long gone, and in doing so, lost his only chance at happiness.
~~~
It was a year later that he found himself in a small town off the westskirts of Canada, realization finally clicking in that he'd spent a year inadvertantly making sweeps of the nation in vain attempts of finding Marie. A needle in a haystack, and he had no idea where to even start his search. Then he thought about how it had been five years since he'd last seen her. Even though she'd probably changed alot, he was almost sure he could still sniff her scent out of anywhere.
When he said small town, that's exactly what he meant. There was one bar in the place, but it closed at ten. Which was the strangest thing he'd ever heard of actually. Because what bar closes as early as ten? Ditching his bike, he walked the streets a bit further to find something else to keep his mind occupied. It was hopeless trying to make himself fall asleep. Something had to be open.
He passed building after building, and was about to give up, when he came across a sign posted on the outside of a store. A movie. A stupid movie from the looks of it. But he didn't care. He'd given up on searching the streets for signs of life. If nothing else, atleast the film would help put him to sleep.
He walked in right when the lights were dimmed. The seats were mostly sparse of occupants. Maybe four people in all sitting in the room. Logan idly wondered what people *did* do in this quiet town.
Logan's thoughts then drifted back to the young girl he left behind on a failed search for his past. What did she look like now? How was she doing? Did she have a job? A family? Had she ever figured out a way to control her powers? Was she still the same shy kid with a sly smile that left you trying to figure out what was going on in her head. With eyes as big as saucers, that could peer through your soul and --- he stopped himself short. Logan did *not* like the way those thoughts were leaning.
Glancing up at the movie, he realized for the first time, that he was in the middle of a cheap porno flick. Cheap being the keyword, because the acting was terrible to say the least. If he weren't in such a contemplative mood right now, he might've actually laughed. Infact, he was about to do that exact thing, but someone else in the dark theatere beat him to the chase.
His eyes scanned the isles for a trace of the person who was obviously on the same wavelength as himself. Green-haired-boy wasn't it; he was too busy picking his nose with with one hand and trying to feel himself up with the other. There was a couple near the middle of room; whispering something about making a video of their own. Logan grunted with disgust, allowing his eyes to fall on the final person in the room.
It was a woman; her arms covering the side of her face; her head bent low as she tried to bid the giggles away. He sniffed the air once. Then twice, when he caught the familiar scent. He tried to place it, but couldn't. He assumed she was probably just another no-named face that he had fucked in the past somewhere, and was about to turn away when he saw it.
*The* it. The white streaks. They stood out visibly in the darkened room as she finally lifted her head. That's where he'd smelled it before. It was Marie. In a porno theatere. He was drawn between wanting to give her a giant hug after not seeing her for so long, and giving her a lecture for being in such a place at her age. Which was what again? 17? 18? Didn't matter. She was a kid, and a kid shouldn't be watching this garbage. Logan tried getting a better veiw of her face, but the room was too dark, even for his grand eyes. All that he could make out was a faint profile and the glowing white shocks of hair.
He didn't know how to approach her. Or what to say even. It had been years. Five years, to be exact. What *could* he say? Deciding it best to wait for a reunion until the movie was over, he leaned back futher in his chair and basked in the feeling of victory and satisfaction. He had finally found her. His Marie. And he was going talk to her.
He lost his nerves though, when the credits began to roll and the lights flickered back on. With the help of the florescent lightings, he had to take in a deep breathe upon seeing her clearly for the first time. She was definitely not 17. 'Holy shit, she's changed', he thought. She stood gracefully to her full height of what looked like 5'8 or so. She was wearing a deep brown shirt atop a pair of tight black pants that looked to have been pasted on. Nothing was left to the imagination as she started to walk; the clothing clinging in all the right places. His mouth was dry, and by the time he rememered that breathing was a neccesity of living, she was already gone.
He wondered if he had maybe just imagined the whole thing. Sniffing the air, he decided that no, he hadn't. Logan followed her trailed scent. She smelled like hunneysuckles and mango. The sweetest thing his senses had ever known, and his chest filled up with something he couldn't quite place as he kept to her trail with all the stealth he had.
She was sad. He could tell that right off. The smell of sadness was practically rolling off of her in waves. A faint scent of salty water; tears. She walked with her head hung low, but with a grace to her step that expressed how her gait was determined nontheless. She wasn't wearing gloves, he noticed. Did that mean she'd found a way to turn her mutation off? A glance at the way her hips swayed as she strolled, and he immediately kicked himself for thinking such things. 'This is Marie', he repeated to himself. 'Sweet, little, kid-Marie.' The chant did nothing for the way he turned painfully hard.
She stopped at a particular apartment, bending slowly towards the ground to pick up what appeared to be a rose. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply, and he thought about how utterly beautiful she really was. Then she was inside; the door closed. His time for hello's were passed, and he resigned to the fact that he desperately needed to get back to his own hotel room. He had no idea what was going on with his feelings involving the kid, Marie. He'd have to figure it out before speaking to her.
Hoping that she would still be there in the morning, and that this wasn't some whacked up dream he was in the middle of having, he headed back to his own room for a very needed cold shower.
3, Reunion
"Rogue! Are you even listening to me??"
"Huh, what? --Oh. Uh, right. Sorry. What were you saying?" Her cheeks flared up into a slight blush as she regained her attention back on the man before her. He was short and bald, with a crooked nose and a large cane that he walked around with not because of need, but because of the sense of authority and power he seemed to think it offered him. He looked upperclassed and snotty, but he was instead, the sweetest old man with the biggest heart of gold she'd ever known.
Mr. Sanders was a regular at the small diner she was working in, and he considered her his favorite waitress. He was always full of nice comments and remarks, never letting her forget that if he had ever had a daughter of his own, he'd wish she'd turn out just like her. She played the daughter he never had in his life, and he played the father she needed in hers.
He was sitting on a bar stool three feet away from her, talking on and on about how she was a sweet girl that needed to get out of this small-time town; make something of herself elsewhere, and find a good boy that loved and appreciated her; someone willing to bring her the moon if only she asked. It was a nice thought. Having all of those things. But she knew it was all in an impossability. So instead of telling him that he was crazy, she instead offered him a sad smile.
"C'mon, you know I like it here. And besides, if I left, I'd just miss you too much, Mr. Sanders---"
"Henry. I've told you before, sweety. You call me, Henry. 'Mr.Sanders' just makes me feel like an old geezer." He smiled brightly, unconsiously bringing a smile to her own lips. "You should do that more often." he whispered.
"Do what?" Marie asked with utter confusion.
"Smile. You have such a pretty face, and when you smile, it just makes the whole room light up. When you walk around here with a frown and a scowl the whole day, I honestly think it frightens some folks." The way he said it with complete sencerity, made her smile again. A real smile. Full teeth and all. He laughed again, popping the table loudly with one boney hand. "Thadda girl, Roguey. It warms my old battered heart to see you doin' that."
Nodding with another smile just for him, she strolled into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a large steaming plate of eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, and stacks of pancakes. Setting the breakfast infront of the eager man, she looked down at the food with a raised eyebrow.
"Ya know, that stuff's gunna kill you one of these days." She said, honestly wondering how anyone could stomache some of the stuff the cook came up with. "You really ought to let me cook for you instead of wasting your good money here."
"Now I'll have none of that nonsense." He said through a mouthfull of syrup-drowned pancakes. "I've been eating in this here diner every morning the for past fifteen years, and it hasn't killed me yet." Then, after a short pause, and popping a sausage link into his mouth with a grimace; "The food is pretty bad though." Another pause, longer this time, and his eating slowed. "I wonder why I still eat here." Then his head lifted and he smiled brightly, giving her a wink and waving a pointed finger in her direction. "Must be the good company that comes with it!"
Swatting him away, another blush krept onto her cheeks. "You're crazy." She told him. "Just finish eating your food, huh?"
One last wink, and he went back to shuvveling food into his wide mouth.
Brushing a flyaway strand of white hair back behind her ear, she leaned back in a booth in the far corner of the building. There were never large crowds in this place, especially at the hour it was now. On the other end of the room she could make out a few teenagers trying to play a game of pool on the lone game table in the room. It was three boys against two girls, the boy's obviously holding nothing back, enjoying themselves at beating others in the sport; the girls getting upset because they couldn't seem to grasp the concept of how to hit the balls with a stick. The way things were going, she wouldn't be surprised if the girls started yelling in frustration soon. Standing up with a sigh, she cracked her neck with a soft popping noise, and walked over to the small group of people. She was gunna teach these boys a lesson in manners.
Remembering what Henry had said, she smiled the best she could. "How 'bout another player? Us girls against you boys."
One boy, no more than 17, looked her up and down once over and nodded so quick she thought his head might bounce off. "Hell yeah. I'm Paul." he said with a wink, then nodded towards his friends when one girl nudged him with an elbow. "This is Cathy, Linda, Sammy, and Jordan."
"The name's Rogue. Nice to meet you." Closing the distance between herself and the other girls, she picked up a long pool stick.
"You know how to play? Cause if you don't, I could---ow! hey!" He hissed when the same girl, Cathy, nudged him again with her elbow.
Repressing the urge to roll her eyes, she replied, "Bring it on, sugah. Your solids we're stripes. Call it before you shoot it. Dollar a ball. Ready?" Though boys could do nothing but slowly nod in anticipation of a quick win, but the girls were quick to jump in.
"Wait a minute... Rogue, is it?" Marie nodded, and she continued. "Maybe you haven't seen us play before. We suck. I'm talking, totally pathetic here. Last time we tried hitting the ball, it flew over the table!" Rogue actually did see the short blonde one, Linda, do that on her way to greet the teens. "No way. We can't. I don't have that kind of money to hand out if they win!"
Shaking her head she said, "Then we won't let 'em. Just watch me, you'll get it."
"Watch? Ha! These guys were physically trying to help us, and we still suck." Cathi argued.
"Sugah, these boys don't know what they're even doing." Pulling her stick back before they could continue further, she called over her shoulder. "7 and 3 in the corner pocket, 9 in the left."
"Yeah right." Sammy muttered. "No one could get that."
"It's impossible." Jordan agreed.
"I can't watch." Cathy covered her eyes, allowing an eye to peer through the openings of her fingers.
Arching an eyebrow in their dirction, she let the stick slide through her fingers. Sure enough, all three balls went into their desinated holes.
"Holy shit." Paul breathed.
"I double that." Sammy added.
"Oh yeah. This is going to be so fun." Linda chirped.
By the end of the game, the girls had cleaned up the table with the boys' asses. Deciding to let them keep their money, Rogue walked off, still able to hear clearly the muttered curses from the losers as they handed over green bills to the now very happy first-time winners.
Two hours later, it was her lunch break, and she was pulling her coat jacket back over her shoulders. Grabbing a pair of keys off of a rack bolted to the wall in the back kitchen, she made her way towards Henry. Marie gave him a quick kiss atop his head, stirring him from his newspaper
reading.
"Lunch time already?" He asked with a broad smile.
"Yeah, Henry. I'll be back in an hour. Keep outa trouble." She brushed a piece of invisible lint off of his shoulder. "I'm sure Doris will fix you up fine with a fine plate of food." Both of their heads turned to stare at the older, obeise waitress with oily grey hair stuffed inside a hair net. There was a mean scowl on her face as she caught their eyes, and her already narrowed eyes seemed to glare even further.
Henry gulped back mock-fear. "I wouldn't be too surprised if she poisoned it, pumpkin."
Giggling, she patted his bald head. "You're a tough old man, Henry. You'll live."
Tugging her jacket tighter around her body, she was too preoccupied to notice anyone coming into the diner as she opened the door. Letting out a shriek of fright as she bumped smack dab in the middle of a huge plaide overshirt, she landed on the ground with a large thud.
"Fuck." She whispered under her breath. Her butt hurt like hell, and she had to try and resist the intense urge to rub the abused area. Looking up from her spot on the ground, the first thing the saw was a pair of large brown boots. Dark, tight bluejeans. Huge-ass beltbuckle. Worn leather jacket and that plaide shirt that had put her in this embarassing predicament in the first place.
She didn't even have to look at the face to know who it was standing a mere four inches infront of her. It was all she could do to breath, let alone try to form anything constituting a rational form of words.
"Hey, Marie." His gruff voice echoed against the empty walls of her mind. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. No fucking way in hell was this actually happening. He bent over and placed a large, heavy hand on her knees. She looked down at the rough hand, then gradually made her eyes follow up his arms, past his shoulders and neck, and finally landing on his face. "Need help?" He was smiling.
Shit.
This was happening.
TBC .... was that any better? i'm kinda in the middle of writers' block or something right now. *sigh*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2, Alone
It was strange really. The whole concept of being alone. 20 years of life was all that he could remember, and still, it never occured to him until just recently that he would be alone for the rest of his life. Given, he spent most of his days beating grown men up, and most of his nights sleeping with any woman willing, but he was still *alone*.
Never in his knowledge, had he ever known of a place as home. Or had people to call his family. He thought he had this at Xavier's mansion. A seregate father type figure in the proffessor, a friend in Ororo, hell, even a brother in Scott. And maybe deep down, he still did think of them as such. But ever since he walked into that building and discovered that Marie no longer inhabited its walls, that's all it was to him. Walls. And strangers.
He liked to think of it as Marie just being a scrawny kid that he picked up from the back of his trailor. And that because she was the only person he ever took time out of his own life to worry about, that's why he felt such a strong need to protect her. Coming to the mansion together only insured that they were a pair. No matter what happened to them before their life came to this, they were now in it all together. To the end. Never before had he ever had to think about someone else. Or worry that they were doing okay. Before Marie, he never had a friend. Never had a family. *She* was his family. Not the pretty pictured mansion with its comfortable living arrangements and nice people package. So in all actuallity, he wasn't coming back for a home. Or for Jean, as most people presumed. He was coming back for a family, and with Marie not there, he now had nothing.
He asked the proffessor where she went, but Xavier was quite evasive in his answering. Giving him remarks about how she was grown up, and needed to do things on her own. How she requested they not check up on her, because that would be like saying they didn't trust her. And defeated, he just nodded his head, packed up his bags and left. Didn't bother to answer the questions of Jean and Ororo as he gunned the engine to Scott's old bike that he now permamently considered his own. Driving down the long and winding driveway of the mansion grounds, he realized with a sinking feeling that he'd spent four years too long gone, and in doing so, lost his only chance at happiness.
~~~
It was a year later that he found himself in a small town off the westskirts of Canada, realization finally clicking in that he'd spent a year inadvertantly making sweeps of the nation in vain attempts of finding Marie. A needle in a haystack, and he had no idea where to even start his search. Then he thought about how it had been five years since he'd last seen her. Even though she'd probably changed alot, he was almost sure he could still sniff her scent out of anywhere.
When he said small town, that's exactly what he meant. There was one bar in the place, but it closed at ten. Which was the strangest thing he'd ever heard of actually. Because what bar closes as early as ten? Ditching his bike, he walked the streets a bit further to find something else to keep his mind occupied. It was hopeless trying to make himself fall asleep. Something had to be open.
He passed building after building, and was about to give up, when he came across a sign posted on the outside of a store. A movie. A stupid movie from the looks of it. But he didn't care. He'd given up on searching the streets for signs of life. If nothing else, atleast the film would help put him to sleep.
He walked in right when the lights were dimmed. The seats were mostly sparse of occupants. Maybe four people in all sitting in the room. Logan idly wondered what people *did* do in this quiet town.
Logan's thoughts then drifted back to the young girl he left behind on a failed search for his past. What did she look like now? How was she doing? Did she have a job? A family? Had she ever figured out a way to control her powers? Was she still the same shy kid with a sly smile that left you trying to figure out what was going on in her head. With eyes as big as saucers, that could peer through your soul and --- he stopped himself short. Logan did *not* like the way those thoughts were leaning.
Glancing up at the movie, he realized for the first time, that he was in the middle of a cheap porno flick. Cheap being the keyword, because the acting was terrible to say the least. If he weren't in such a contemplative mood right now, he might've actually laughed. Infact, he was about to do that exact thing, but someone else in the dark theatere beat him to the chase.
His eyes scanned the isles for a trace of the person who was obviously on the same wavelength as himself. Green-haired-boy wasn't it; he was too busy picking his nose with with one hand and trying to feel himself up with the other. There was a couple near the middle of room; whispering something about making a video of their own. Logan grunted with disgust, allowing his eyes to fall on the final person in the room.
It was a woman; her arms covering the side of her face; her head bent low as she tried to bid the giggles away. He sniffed the air once. Then twice, when he caught the familiar scent. He tried to place it, but couldn't. He assumed she was probably just another no-named face that he had fucked in the past somewhere, and was about to turn away when he saw it.
*The* it. The white streaks. They stood out visibly in the darkened room as she finally lifted her head. That's where he'd smelled it before. It was Marie. In a porno theatere. He was drawn between wanting to give her a giant hug after not seeing her for so long, and giving her a lecture for being in such a place at her age. Which was what again? 17? 18? Didn't matter. She was a kid, and a kid shouldn't be watching this garbage. Logan tried getting a better veiw of her face, but the room was too dark, even for his grand eyes. All that he could make out was a faint profile and the glowing white shocks of hair.
He didn't know how to approach her. Or what to say even. It had been years. Five years, to be exact. What *could* he say? Deciding it best to wait for a reunion until the movie was over, he leaned back futher in his chair and basked in the feeling of victory and satisfaction. He had finally found her. His Marie. And he was going talk to her.
He lost his nerves though, when the credits began to roll and the lights flickered back on. With the help of the florescent lightings, he had to take in a deep breathe upon seeing her clearly for the first time. She was definitely not 17. 'Holy shit, she's changed', he thought. She stood gracefully to her full height of what looked like 5'8 or so. She was wearing a deep brown shirt atop a pair of tight black pants that looked to have been pasted on. Nothing was left to the imagination as she started to walk; the clothing clinging in all the right places. His mouth was dry, and by the time he rememered that breathing was a neccesity of living, she was already gone.
He wondered if he had maybe just imagined the whole thing. Sniffing the air, he decided that no, he hadn't. Logan followed her trailed scent. She smelled like hunneysuckles and mango. The sweetest thing his senses had ever known, and his chest filled up with something he couldn't quite place as he kept to her trail with all the stealth he had.
She was sad. He could tell that right off. The smell of sadness was practically rolling off of her in waves. A faint scent of salty water; tears. She walked with her head hung low, but with a grace to her step that expressed how her gait was determined nontheless. She wasn't wearing gloves, he noticed. Did that mean she'd found a way to turn her mutation off? A glance at the way her hips swayed as she strolled, and he immediately kicked himself for thinking such things. 'This is Marie', he repeated to himself. 'Sweet, little, kid-Marie.' The chant did nothing for the way he turned painfully hard.
She stopped at a particular apartment, bending slowly towards the ground to pick up what appeared to be a rose. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply, and he thought about how utterly beautiful she really was. Then she was inside; the door closed. His time for hello's were passed, and he resigned to the fact that he desperately needed to get back to his own hotel room. He had no idea what was going on with his feelings involving the kid, Marie. He'd have to figure it out before speaking to her.
Hoping that she would still be there in the morning, and that this wasn't some whacked up dream he was in the middle of having, he headed back to his own room for a very needed cold shower.
3, Reunion
"Rogue! Are you even listening to me??"
"Huh, what? --Oh. Uh, right. Sorry. What were you saying?" Her cheeks flared up into a slight blush as she regained her attention back on the man before her. He was short and bald, with a crooked nose and a large cane that he walked around with not because of need, but because of the sense of authority and power he seemed to think it offered him. He looked upperclassed and snotty, but he was instead, the sweetest old man with the biggest heart of gold she'd ever known.
Mr. Sanders was a regular at the small diner she was working in, and he considered her his favorite waitress. He was always full of nice comments and remarks, never letting her forget that if he had ever had a daughter of his own, he'd wish she'd turn out just like her. She played the daughter he never had in his life, and he played the father she needed in hers.
He was sitting on a bar stool three feet away from her, talking on and on about how she was a sweet girl that needed to get out of this small-time town; make something of herself elsewhere, and find a good boy that loved and appreciated her; someone willing to bring her the moon if only she asked. It was a nice thought. Having all of those things. But she knew it was all in an impossability. So instead of telling him that he was crazy, she instead offered him a sad smile.
"C'mon, you know I like it here. And besides, if I left, I'd just miss you too much, Mr. Sanders---"
"Henry. I've told you before, sweety. You call me, Henry. 'Mr.Sanders' just makes me feel like an old geezer." He smiled brightly, unconsiously bringing a smile to her own lips. "You should do that more often." he whispered.
"Do what?" Marie asked with utter confusion.
"Smile. You have such a pretty face, and when you smile, it just makes the whole room light up. When you walk around here with a frown and a scowl the whole day, I honestly think it frightens some folks." The way he said it with complete sencerity, made her smile again. A real smile. Full teeth and all. He laughed again, popping the table loudly with one boney hand. "Thadda girl, Roguey. It warms my old battered heart to see you doin' that."
Nodding with another smile just for him, she strolled into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a large steaming plate of eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, and stacks of pancakes. Setting the breakfast infront of the eager man, she looked down at the food with a raised eyebrow.
"Ya know, that stuff's gunna kill you one of these days." She said, honestly wondering how anyone could stomache some of the stuff the cook came up with. "You really ought to let me cook for you instead of wasting your good money here."
"Now I'll have none of that nonsense." He said through a mouthfull of syrup-drowned pancakes. "I've been eating in this here diner every morning the for past fifteen years, and it hasn't killed me yet." Then, after a short pause, and popping a sausage link into his mouth with a grimace; "The food is pretty bad though." Another pause, longer this time, and his eating slowed. "I wonder why I still eat here." Then his head lifted and he smiled brightly, giving her a wink and waving a pointed finger in her direction. "Must be the good company that comes with it!"
Swatting him away, another blush krept onto her cheeks. "You're crazy." She told him. "Just finish eating your food, huh?"
One last wink, and he went back to shuvveling food into his wide mouth.
Brushing a flyaway strand of white hair back behind her ear, she leaned back in a booth in the far corner of the building. There were never large crowds in this place, especially at the hour it was now. On the other end of the room she could make out a few teenagers trying to play a game of pool on the lone game table in the room. It was three boys against two girls, the boy's obviously holding nothing back, enjoying themselves at beating others in the sport; the girls getting upset because they couldn't seem to grasp the concept of how to hit the balls with a stick. The way things were going, she wouldn't be surprised if the girls started yelling in frustration soon. Standing up with a sigh, she cracked her neck with a soft popping noise, and walked over to the small group of people. She was gunna teach these boys a lesson in manners.
Remembering what Henry had said, she smiled the best she could. "How 'bout another player? Us girls against you boys."
One boy, no more than 17, looked her up and down once over and nodded so quick she thought his head might bounce off. "Hell yeah. I'm Paul." he said with a wink, then nodded towards his friends when one girl nudged him with an elbow. "This is Cathy, Linda, Sammy, and Jordan."
"The name's Rogue. Nice to meet you." Closing the distance between herself and the other girls, she picked up a long pool stick.
"You know how to play? Cause if you don't, I could---ow! hey!" He hissed when the same girl, Cathy, nudged him again with her elbow.
Repressing the urge to roll her eyes, she replied, "Bring it on, sugah. Your solids we're stripes. Call it before you shoot it. Dollar a ball. Ready?" Though boys could do nothing but slowly nod in anticipation of a quick win, but the girls were quick to jump in.
"Wait a minute... Rogue, is it?" Marie nodded, and she continued. "Maybe you haven't seen us play before. We suck. I'm talking, totally pathetic here. Last time we tried hitting the ball, it flew over the table!" Rogue actually did see the short blonde one, Linda, do that on her way to greet the teens. "No way. We can't. I don't have that kind of money to hand out if they win!"
Shaking her head she said, "Then we won't let 'em. Just watch me, you'll get it."
"Watch? Ha! These guys were physically trying to help us, and we still suck." Cathi argued.
"Sugah, these boys don't know what they're even doing." Pulling her stick back before they could continue further, she called over her shoulder. "7 and 3 in the corner pocket, 9 in the left."
"Yeah right." Sammy muttered. "No one could get that."
"It's impossible." Jordan agreed.
"I can't watch." Cathy covered her eyes, allowing an eye to peer through the openings of her fingers.
Arching an eyebrow in their dirction, she let the stick slide through her fingers. Sure enough, all three balls went into their desinated holes.
"Holy shit." Paul breathed.
"I double that." Sammy added.
"Oh yeah. This is going to be so fun." Linda chirped.
By the end of the game, the girls had cleaned up the table with the boys' asses. Deciding to let them keep their money, Rogue walked off, still able to hear clearly the muttered curses from the losers as they handed over green bills to the now very happy first-time winners.
Two hours later, it was her lunch break, and she was pulling her coat jacket back over her shoulders. Grabbing a pair of keys off of a rack bolted to the wall in the back kitchen, she made her way towards Henry. Marie gave him a quick kiss atop his head, stirring him from his newspaper
reading.
"Lunch time already?" He asked with a broad smile.
"Yeah, Henry. I'll be back in an hour. Keep outa trouble." She brushed a piece of invisible lint off of his shoulder. "I'm sure Doris will fix you up fine with a fine plate of food." Both of their heads turned to stare at the older, obeise waitress with oily grey hair stuffed inside a hair net. There was a mean scowl on her face as she caught their eyes, and her already narrowed eyes seemed to glare even further.
Henry gulped back mock-fear. "I wouldn't be too surprised if she poisoned it, pumpkin."
Giggling, she patted his bald head. "You're a tough old man, Henry. You'll live."
Tugging her jacket tighter around her body, she was too preoccupied to notice anyone coming into the diner as she opened the door. Letting out a shriek of fright as she bumped smack dab in the middle of a huge plaide overshirt, she landed on the ground with a large thud.
"Fuck." She whispered under her breath. Her butt hurt like hell, and she had to try and resist the intense urge to rub the abused area. Looking up from her spot on the ground, the first thing the saw was a pair of large brown boots. Dark, tight bluejeans. Huge-ass beltbuckle. Worn leather jacket and that plaide shirt that had put her in this embarassing predicament in the first place.
She didn't even have to look at the face to know who it was standing a mere four inches infront of her. It was all she could do to breath, let alone try to form anything constituting a rational form of words.
"Hey, Marie." His gruff voice echoed against the empty walls of her mind. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. No fucking way in hell was this actually happening. He bent over and placed a large, heavy hand on her knees. She looked down at the rough hand, then gradually made her eyes follow up his arms, past his shoulders and neck, and finally landing on his face. "Need help?" He was smiling.
Shit.
This was happening.
TBC .... was that any better? i'm kinda in the middle of writers' block or something right now. *sigh*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~