"Postcards"Chapter 1 bizkitprinzess Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff Logan, Alec, and White would be getting nude scenes weekly so you know it's not mine. Summary: Max escaped from Manticore after the season finale. She fled to Nova Scotia. After five years, she contacts Logan. Spoilers/Timeframe: Occurs after "And Jesus Brought a Cassarole". Rating: PG 13 It's been months since I sent the postcard. Sometimes I think it was a mistake sending it and other times I wish I had put a return address on it. I sleep now. In my dreams I can taste him and feel him like we're back on the floor of his apartment kissing. Sometimes I have nightmares, nightmares that remind me Logan could have been in danger even if I didn't return to Seattle, nightmares that remind me even sending that postcard was extremely dangerous but then I wake up. Logan can protect himself and Bling's got his back, or at least he used to have his back. I don't know if he still does or not. Sometimes I wonder if he ever got the use of his legs back. The exo-skeleton helped him walk, yes, but it's different then him regaining use of his legs. I wonder if Eyes Only's still informing people of Seattle of the injustices in the city? Work isn't very busy today, so I get off a little bit earlier then usual. I made enough tips today I can go out to dinner, too. I go home and hop in the shower, wanting to get the grime and worry of the day washed off. It seems silly that me, a genetically engineered soldier has spent five years pining for one man. It's not that silly though. Every time I've gone into heat in the last five years has been hell. All I can think of is Logan but I know I can't have him. I take the time off work; call in sick. They've figured out that every few months I take the same amount of time off but they don't ask questions. I turn off the water and get out of the shower. Feeling clean. I slip into a cool sundress. Since I moved here I've started dressing more like a girl. Another meager small attempt at hiding I guess. I feel like eating Chinese food so I get in my car and set out for the restaurant. I gave up motorcycles for a 2001 Chrysler 300M. Considering it's age it's in great shape, even though the mechanic keeps saying someday it's going to die on the side of the road for me. I reach the restaurant, go in and order. Tomorrow's another day right? Maybe my prince will come, or maybe I've just become a romantic in my old age. End of Chapter 1 |