Logan (![]() ![]() @ 2012-05-23 20:20:00 |
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Logan had eventually given in and put up the embroidery on “his” door -- the door to the room he usually hung out in in the touring car. When Jaime had see it, she’d giggled herself sick then offered to stick it there permanently. He’d shrugged, she’d waved her wand, and now it was stuck there … he guessed until the train unstuck it. He wasn’t sure if her magic fell under something the train would reset or not, but he guessed he’d see in the morning. He thought it looked nice. And all right, it was kind of amusing as well. He wondered how long before other people started ‘claiming’ the touring car compartments. And how long they’d last. He’d claimed his way back in the train’s infancy … and he’d held it through the months. Nearly six, he reflected. That came with its own set of worries. One of the overheard conversations had mentioned a six month point, and as they approached theirs, Logan had to wonder. Whose siix months? The people on the train? The fake calendars? The people they’d overheard? He knew there was nothing to do but wait and see … so he’d wait. And they’d see. Picking up a book he’d found in the baggage car (after he’d checked to make sure it was what the cover said it was), Logan settled down into his ass groove on the couch. He popped the window open, popped a beer open, and settled down to watch the scenery and maybe read a little. |