Summary: Marie writes to Logan.
Categories: X1,
AU Characters: None
Genres: Drabble
Tags: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 641
Read: 1905
Published: 07/23/2009
Updated: 07/23/2009
Story Notes:
This whole story was inspired by the song, "P.S. I Love You" as sung by Bette Midler on the "For the Boys" soundtrack.
Hence, the parts in bold are directly taken from the song.
I don't think this really fits in any particular timeline (or, you could say, that it fits in any timeline).
I don't know what happened before or what happened after...
If anyone wants to take a stab at taking off from any of those points and using this as a basis, go ahead. Just let me know.
1. Postscript by Emania
Author's Notes:
The song is:
P.S. I Love You
- Bette Midler
Dear, I thought I'd drop a line.
The weather's cool. The folks are fine.
I'm in bed each night at nine.
P.S. I love you.
Yesterday we had some rain,
but all in all I can't complain.
Was it dusty on the train?
P.S. I love you.
Write to the Browns just as soon as you're able.
They came around to call.
I burned a hole in the dining room table.
And let me see, I guess that's all.
Nothin' else for me to say,
and so I'll close. Oh, by the way,
everybody's thinkin' of you.
P.S. I love you.
I do my best to obey all your wishes.
I put a sign up. Think
now I got to buy us a new set of dishes,
or wash the ones that have piled in the sink.
Nothing else to tell you, dear.
Except, each day feels like a year.
Every night I'm dreamin' of you.
P.S. I love you.
P.S. I love you.
Postscript
by Emania
“The one good thing about not seeing you is that I can write you letters.”
~Svetlana Alliluyeva
“A woman seldom writes her Mind, but in her Postscript.”
~Richard Steele, “Spectator”
Dear Logan,
I thought I’d drop a line. I don’t have very much time to write, so I’ll make this quick. I know you don’t like long letters, anyway, so…
I don’t really have much to tell you. Here, the weather’s turned cool. The others are fine. Oh, yeah…you’re not going to believe it: I’m in bed each night at nine. I know, I know, but what with classes and training sessions…
Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I’ll write again soon.
Marie
p.s. I love you
+~+~+~+~
Logan,
I hear it’s bright and sunny all the time in Mexico. Is that true?
Everyday it gets colder. We’ll have to take out the winter parkas soon. Yesterday, we had some rain and Scott made us train in the danger room an extra hour because he said we couldn’t go out onto the training course in the rain but, all in all, I can’t complain. Days come and go, as they do. It’ll be New Year’s before I know it.
Was it dusty on the train?
M.
p.s. I love you
+~+~+~+~+~
Hey sugah,
I got a confession to make: I burned a hole in the dining room table.
I know what you’re gonna say, Logan, but I swear it wasn’t my fault! Not really. How was I supposed to know that lighting a candle with the plastic still around it would make for very hot dripping wax?
The Professor wasn’t too mad, but Scott gave me The Look. You know the one I’m talking about. Made me clean up the gym after training for a week. I dunno, maybe I deserve it.
And let me see…I guess that’s all. There’s nothing else for me to say, so I guess I’ll close.
p.s. I love you.
Marie
+~+~+~+~
Logan,
Are you close to coming home yet? I only ask because well, you know all those things you told me before you left? All the dos and do nots? Well, I gotta be honest with you – the longer you’re gone, the harder it is to remember them all. I do my best to obey all your wishes, but you know it’s not easy.
I even put a sign up: Think. It doesn’t help. It’s not the same without you here to tell me, “Think, Marie!” and pull me out of danger. Not that I need you to save me, or anything! I’m getting better at hand to hand combat every day. Still…
I was on kitchen duty this week and now, I’ve got to buy us a new set of dishes…or I guess I could just wash the ones that are piled in the sink.
There’s really nothing else to tell you...
Except...each day feels like a year.
M.
p.s. I love you
+~+~+~+~
Dear Logan,
Before I forget: write to Hank just as soon as you’re able. He came around, asking if I’d heard from you and he seemed really hurt that you hadn’t written.
He’s not the only one, either. Everybody’s thinking of you. They all mention you and wish you’d be home to show this to or share that with or talk whatever over. Mostly, I like hearing them talk about you and just being able to say your name aloud, but sometimes...
It’s hard to be here, just missing you.
There’s one consolation, though...every night I’m dreaming of you.
When are you coming home, again?
M
p.s. I love you.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.