Difference between revisions of "Cora Drabbles"
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| − | [[ | + | '''Feedback to [[Cora]].''' |
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| + | ===Morning After=== | ||
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| + | ''Note from [[Cora]]: There is no way to introduce this one that won't get me in trouble, I think. Thank God, there are no pictures.'' | ||
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| + | ''((another backstory non-canon (really non-canon, as there's no Storm!mun for approval) loglet for Jean, set sometime while Jean is home from college. Reposted, cause I'm a dork.))'' | ||
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| + | ---- | ||
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| + | Jean did not moan. Ok, her head was pounding, and from the taste in her mouth last night had been a tequila night, but this was not actually the worst hangover she’d ever had. Hell, it wasn’t even the worst ''headache'' she’d ever had, and wasn’t being a telepath ''such'' fun. | ||
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| + | Peeling open her eyes, she almost shut them again as the light hit them. God, they’d forgotten to shut the curtains. Blinking fuzzily around the room, she took stock. | ||
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| + | On the plus side, she was at least still wearing her pants. There was a rather impressive hickey spread across most of her collar bone, but she was still wearing pants. | ||
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| + | “Goddess...” the room’s other resident whimpered, and Jean turned her head to check. Yep, ‘Ro was still wearing pants, too. Excellent. | ||
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| + | “Next time we decide not to share the tequila with the boys...” | ||
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| + | “There will be no next time, sister.” | ||
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| + | “I don’t think you’re allowed to call me sister until at least one of us is wearing a shirt.” | ||
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| + | Ororo just whimpered again before turning to bury her head in Jean’s shoulder. “Turn of the sun, please.” | ||
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| + | Jean gazed around the room, looking for something. “’Ro, do you remember if there was a camera? Because that would be bad. Hank and Scott must never, ''ever'' get pictures of last night.” | ||
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| + | “That’s what you said last night before last night happened,” came Ororo’s muffled voice. “You threw the camera out the window. It was a nice camera...” | ||
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| + | “Oh, good. That was clever of me. God, my head hurts.” | ||
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| + | “Be quiet, Jean. Say anything else and I will have to kiss you to shut you up, and we’re both too sober for that.” | ||
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| + | Jean opened her mouth, starting to say something, but stopped as Ororo raised her head and managed a bleary sort of warning look. #Right. Going back to sleep now.# | ||
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| + | ''Good call.'' | ||
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| + | ---- | ||
[[Category: Fiction and Art]] | [[Category: Fiction and Art]] | ||
Latest revision as of 10:51, 30 August 2007
Feedback to Cora.
Morning After
Note from Cora: There is no way to introduce this one that won't get me in trouble, I think. Thank God, there are no pictures.
((another backstory non-canon (really non-canon, as there's no Storm!mun for approval) loglet for Jean, set sometime while Jean is home from college. Reposted, cause I'm a dork.))
Jean did not moan. Ok, her head was pounding, and from the taste in her mouth last night had been a tequila night, but this was not actually the worst hangover she’d ever had. Hell, it wasn’t even the worst headache she’d ever had, and wasn’t being a telepath such fun.
Peeling open her eyes, she almost shut them again as the light hit them. God, they’d forgotten to shut the curtains. Blinking fuzzily around the room, she took stock.
On the plus side, she was at least still wearing her pants. There was a rather impressive hickey spread across most of her collar bone, but she was still wearing pants.
“Goddess...” the room’s other resident whimpered, and Jean turned her head to check. Yep, ‘Ro was still wearing pants, too. Excellent.
“Next time we decide not to share the tequila with the boys...”
“There will be no next time, sister.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to call me sister until at least one of us is wearing a shirt.”
Ororo just whimpered again before turning to bury her head in Jean’s shoulder. “Turn of the sun, please.”
Jean gazed around the room, looking for something. “’Ro, do you remember if there was a camera? Because that would be bad. Hank and Scott must never, ever get pictures of last night.”
“That’s what you said last night before last night happened,” came Ororo’s muffled voice. “You threw the camera out the window. It was a nice camera...”
“Oh, good. That was clever of me. God, my head hurts.”
“Be quiet, Jean. Say anything else and I will have to kiss you to shut you up, and we’re both too sober for that.”
Jean opened her mouth, starting to say something, but stopped as Ororo raised her head and managed a bleary sort of warning look. #Right. Going back to sleep now.#
Good call.
