Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, don't you think I would using my
plot lines to make a comic book, or an episode?
The difference between walking down a street in New Orleans, and walking down a street in Bayville was divine. Bayville was cold, filled with people who hated her, and very boring. New Orleans was deliciously warm, filled with strangers, and something interesting was around every corner. Rogue strolled up and down the streets before she even began to her search for some sort of pharmacy of grocery store. Finally, however, she could no longer put off the nagging protectiveness she secretly felt for her teammates back at "home", and decided she ought to finish her errands so she could try to force feed them a piece of toast for dinner.
After a few more blocks of walking, Rogue finally found a small pharmacy, conveniently next to what looked like a grocery store, she took note of the street name for further reference, and went in to buy various medicines. She came out a half an hour later, with a small bag filled with cough syrups, pain reducers, fever reducers, cough drops and other assortments. The pharmacist probably thought she was a druggee. Oh well.
Next Rogue ventured into the grocery store, simultaneously pulling out her handy dandy list of goods and cursing the fact she had to have a list. The two operations proved to much for her, because only a few feet into the store, she abruptly ran into a rather fleshy obstacle. Naturally, her characteristic scowl fell into place as she looked up at the "offending" invader of her personal space. Of course, because after all Rogue had no luck in the world (or all the luck, depending on how you look at it), she was looking straight into a pair of demonic eyes.
Before so much as a charming syllable could slip out of the Cajun's mouth Rogue groaned and began to walk over to some vegetables, knowing that he would follow her all the way home. A journey which of course take twice as long with him tagging along.
_________________________________________________________________
Back at the apartment, a slight noise broke the thick silence that had settled over the rooms since Rogue's departure.
Amara had suddenly awoken from her nap, and the pain from her sickness had suddenly hit her full force. She felt ten times worse then she did on the cruise ship, and she knew she wasn't that far away from land. She felt cold all over, and as weak as a kitten. She called out to Rogue, but no one answered.
Calling out again, Amara realized that her caretaker must have gone shopping.
"I feel horrible, someone help me!" She moaned out into the air, knowing full well only Jamie could possibly hear her and he couldn't help much. With the little bit of energy she had, Amara tried to go into her Magma form, thinking it might help. However, with all her concentration she couldn't even transform her fingers.
Her sickness was making her so cold though. She was used to always being warm because of her mutation. Her teeth began chattering, and she snuggled more tightly into the blankets, trying to find some warmth.
A block or two away an orange-haired boy was running down the street, from the direction of the train station. He was muttering something about finally finding his flame, and escaping the close watch of a cat like creature, which naturally confused everyone he passed. However, when he got in front of a certain building his face broke into a maniacal grin, and he stepped inside. He took the elevator, and took advantage of the time to take out a silver Zippo lighter. When the doors dinged open he found the right room, and very carefully picked the lock, thanking his friend the thief for teaching him one thing. He stepped inside the room, and heard as a certain Amara called for help again. She still hadn't expected any answer, which is precisely the reason she nearly jumped out of her skin when an Australian accent answered her back.
"Don't worry luv, I said I'd light your fire!"
With that a lovely fiery blanket wrapped up Amara tightly and she was able to fall back asleep.
A/N: Not a very good chapter, but I had to get it out for better ones to come. I am not very good at writing Amyro, but I am trying, please give me any suggestions to improve the loving of the fiery twosome. Please give me any reviews at all.
The difference between walking down a street in New Orleans, and walking down a street in Bayville was divine. Bayville was cold, filled with people who hated her, and very boring. New Orleans was deliciously warm, filled with strangers, and something interesting was around every corner. Rogue strolled up and down the streets before she even began to her search for some sort of pharmacy of grocery store. Finally, however, she could no longer put off the nagging protectiveness she secretly felt for her teammates back at "home", and decided she ought to finish her errands so she could try to force feed them a piece of toast for dinner.
After a few more blocks of walking, Rogue finally found a small pharmacy, conveniently next to what looked like a grocery store, she took note of the street name for further reference, and went in to buy various medicines. She came out a half an hour later, with a small bag filled with cough syrups, pain reducers, fever reducers, cough drops and other assortments. The pharmacist probably thought she was a druggee. Oh well.
Next Rogue ventured into the grocery store, simultaneously pulling out her handy dandy list of goods and cursing the fact she had to have a list. The two operations proved to much for her, because only a few feet into the store, she abruptly ran into a rather fleshy obstacle. Naturally, her characteristic scowl fell into place as she looked up at the "offending" invader of her personal space. Of course, because after all Rogue had no luck in the world (or all the luck, depending on how you look at it), she was looking straight into a pair of demonic eyes.
Before so much as a charming syllable could slip out of the Cajun's mouth Rogue groaned and began to walk over to some vegetables, knowing that he would follow her all the way home. A journey which of course take twice as long with him tagging along.
_________________________________________________________________
Back at the apartment, a slight noise broke the thick silence that had settled over the rooms since Rogue's departure.
Amara had suddenly awoken from her nap, and the pain from her sickness had suddenly hit her full force. She felt ten times worse then she did on the cruise ship, and she knew she wasn't that far away from land. She felt cold all over, and as weak as a kitten. She called out to Rogue, but no one answered.
Calling out again, Amara realized that her caretaker must have gone shopping.
"I feel horrible, someone help me!" She moaned out into the air, knowing full well only Jamie could possibly hear her and he couldn't help much. With the little bit of energy she had, Amara tried to go into her Magma form, thinking it might help. However, with all her concentration she couldn't even transform her fingers.
Her sickness was making her so cold though. She was used to always being warm because of her mutation. Her teeth began chattering, and she snuggled more tightly into the blankets, trying to find some warmth.
A block or two away an orange-haired boy was running down the street, from the direction of the train station. He was muttering something about finally finding his flame, and escaping the close watch of a cat like creature, which naturally confused everyone he passed. However, when he got in front of a certain building his face broke into a maniacal grin, and he stepped inside. He took the elevator, and took advantage of the time to take out a silver Zippo lighter. When the doors dinged open he found the right room, and very carefully picked the lock, thanking his friend the thief for teaching him one thing. He stepped inside the room, and heard as a certain Amara called for help again. She still hadn't expected any answer, which is precisely the reason she nearly jumped out of her skin when an Australian accent answered her back.
"Don't worry luv, I said I'd light your fire!"
With that a lovely fiery blanket wrapped up Amara tightly and she was able to fall back asleep.
A/N: Not a very good chapter, but I had to get it out for better ones to come. I am not very good at writing Amyro, but I am trying, please give me any suggestions to improve the loving of the fiery twosome. Please give me any reviews at all.