Title: Swan Song
By: Jane, the Frog on the Wall
Disclaimer: Boat Boy and that Eglee guy.
Summary: Asha has one final discussion with Logan.
Pairings: Asha/Logan bitterness, a demi-reference to Alec/Asha.
Rating: PG-13, with discretion advised for one very naughty word.
Distribution: List archives, duh. Anybody else, ask politely.
Feedback: I am the gumball-machine feedback whore. Send me mail at happygirl_com@yahoo.com, you get treats with a toy surprise inside.
A/N: Immediate post-ep for "She Ain't Heavy." Spoilers, obviously. On a random yet ep-related note, this fic goes out to the writers for making Clone!Max a bigger bitch than Real!Max, yet still infinitely more likeable.
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Hey, Eyes Only. Just thought I'd call to let you know how much it hurt when I found your apartment the way it was. Because I figured you might want to know that I've been pretending you're not Eyes Only for just as long as you have. I tried to call last week - you didn't pick up. I'm not sure if it's because you didn't want to see me, or if it's because your phone has been reduced to charred metal and the reek of melted plastic.
Hey, Eyes Only. Thought you might care enough to mention the fact that you were huddled somewhere below Terminal City with a secret army of transgenics - that I wouldn't have to find that out from Alec, of all people. Thought the fact that we've been friends since before the Pulse actually mattered. Thought that baking you chocolate chip cookies and taking care of you when you were drunk and puking your insides out over Max gave me the right to know what was going on in your life. Thought that the reconnaissance, the secret missions, the constant brushes with death for your sake made me important enough for you to feign the slightest interest in my peace of mind.
Hey, Eyes Only. Can you please tell me why you were too busy to let me know that the rubble I found in your apartment Friday morning didn't contain your mangled corpse? Could you please let me know why your car wasn't there, why you were too busy to leave a note, why you were moving the fuck out of Seattle without giving a shit about me?
And even if you don't have any answers, I want to say "Congratulations." 'Cause you really had me going. For a while there, I thought you cared.
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By: Jane, the Frog on the Wall
Disclaimer: Boat Boy and that Eglee guy.
Summary: Asha has one final discussion with Logan.
Pairings: Asha/Logan bitterness, a demi-reference to Alec/Asha.
Rating: PG-13, with discretion advised for one very naughty word.
Distribution: List archives, duh. Anybody else, ask politely.
Feedback: I am the gumball-machine feedback whore. Send me mail at happygirl_com@yahoo.com, you get treats with a toy surprise inside.
A/N: Immediate post-ep for "She Ain't Heavy." Spoilers, obviously. On a random yet ep-related note, this fic goes out to the writers for making Clone!Max a bigger bitch than Real!Max, yet still infinitely more likeable.
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Hey, Eyes Only. Just thought I'd call to let you know how much it hurt when I found your apartment the way it was. Because I figured you might want to know that I've been pretending you're not Eyes Only for just as long as you have. I tried to call last week - you didn't pick up. I'm not sure if it's because you didn't want to see me, or if it's because your phone has been reduced to charred metal and the reek of melted plastic.
Hey, Eyes Only. Thought you might care enough to mention the fact that you were huddled somewhere below Terminal City with a secret army of transgenics - that I wouldn't have to find that out from Alec, of all people. Thought the fact that we've been friends since before the Pulse actually mattered. Thought that baking you chocolate chip cookies and taking care of you when you were drunk and puking your insides out over Max gave me the right to know what was going on in your life. Thought that the reconnaissance, the secret missions, the constant brushes with death for your sake made me important enough for you to feign the slightest interest in my peace of mind.
Hey, Eyes Only. Can you please tell me why you were too busy to let me know that the rubble I found in your apartment Friday morning didn't contain your mangled corpse? Could you please let me know why your car wasn't there, why you were too busy to leave a note, why you were moving the fuck out of Seattle without giving a shit about me?
And even if you don't have any answers, I want to say "Congratulations." 'Cause you really had me going. For a while there, I thought you cared.
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