drags herself out from under the rock that fell on her
um.... hi everyone... my name is Furry Elf, and I'm a writer who doesn't update regularly.
The rock that fell on me is huge and the end results of my escapades with rebellion is a lovely baby boy, now a month old.
Disclaimer: I own only the story and Tate. The X-Men and all the respective things that go with them belong to Marvel. I make no attempts at too many big words tonight...er.. Morning... because I've had no sleep. smiles on with the show!
Warning: It's unbearably short. Extremely Short. Excruciatingly SHORT. Just wanted to let you know I'm still alive.
Logan chewed on the end of his cigar as he walked to the X-Jet. Remy hadn't had much time to tell him anything of much use before the alarm went off and Xavier was talking in his head about a FoH attack in progress in Boston.
Storm greeted him on the way down the hall and he grunted in reply.
There wasn't much, but he had learned something from Remy. Tate had been alone most her life. Remy seemed to be her first real friend. She had convictions about stealing–something you don't normally see in street kids, and she believed in God. Even more unusual for a mutant on the streets.
"Something on your mind, Logan?" Storm gently inquired after studying Logan for a moment.
"Yup, plenty."
She smiled and shook her head. She knew better than to press– and they had more important things to think about now anyways.
Tate finally landed at her window after two hours of flying. Logan wasn't trying to push her to talk much. She appreciated that. But he was still pushing and she resented that.
Why is it that when you try to live around a group of people, they always insist on talking everything to death?
She laid on the bed on her stomach and thought back to when she and Remy had met. That day was the most talking she'd done in a long while. Also the first time she'd actually gone inside a church. Odd how quickly things can change.
She saw the tape on the windows and smiled slightly. Now she knew more about the mansion, it seemed less likely that there was danger of the windows shattering–but she saw no reason to let on that was the true reason they'd asked the tape to be put up. You never knew when a telepath would pick up your thoughts.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door to a very big, very fuzzy, very happy Henry.
"Yes?" "Hello, allow me to introduce myself, I am Dr. Henry McCoy, everyone calls me Hank. I was wondering, if perhaps, you would appreciate some books–now before you stop me, allow me to show you the difference from regular print books. These have raised letters so that your echolocation can easily read them."
Tate just stood there. No one had ever offered something like this to her before. Hank held the three books out to her, smiling from ear to furry ear.
Coming back to reality, Tate gave Henry a small smile and took the books.
"Thank you, Dr. McCoy, that is very kind of you."
"Not at all, Miss LeBeau, it is my utmost pleasure to be of service. If you have any particular titles in mind, please let me know at any time, and I can have more sent to the mansion for you."
"Thank you, I think I'll read these first."
He waved as he walked/bounced away; "Very well then. I must be off to the lab–I've left something quiet combustible bubbling down there." He flashed her another toothy smile before disappearing around a corner.
Closing the door she looked at the books in her hand. Tom Sawyer, Select Works of Shakespear, and Treasure Island.
She put Treasure Island on the bed, and the others on the bedside table. Smiling as she opened it, even though her reading was rusty at best; only reading signs on buildings. She would find Remy later to help her.
again, sorry it's so short. This is just to get the creativeness flowing again. The next chapter will, of course, be slow in coming, but with a month old baby demanding to be feed every 2 ½ hours, what else can you expect?? Please visit my favorite stories and authors.