On Beef Jerky and Its Consequences by Aoria
Summary: Rogue learns the consequences of beef jerky.
Categories: X1 Characters: None
Genres: Humor
Tags: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1255 Read: 2366 Published: 04/09/2006 Updated: 04/09/2006

1. Teriyaki-flavoured Beef Jerky by Aoria

Teriyaki-flavoured Beef Jerky by Aoria
Author's Notes:
From the challenge generator at wolverineandrogue.com: near death experience//beef jerky. Wolvie and Rogue truly wrote this one--I swear, I hardly thought about it, just wrote. Hope you enjoy! (psst: I'm Canadian, so don't come after me for my insinuations lol.)

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never have, never will--I just like to play with 'em; especially Logan ;p
I guess it wasn't really too suprising that it happened, right? I mean, I hadn't eaten in FOUR whole days. What was a hungry girl to do?

When I first saw Logan in that run-down, low-life Canadian dive, I got to thinking. The way he kept winning those fights, there was no doubt about it--this guy would be making some cold hard cash tonight.

And despite that feral look about him, he seemed like he could, just maybe, be the kinda guy who would offer a starving kid a decent meal. Or so I thought.

After being very rudely directed away from the 'tipping is not a city in China' jar, the barteneder kept his eyes on me the whole time I sat at the bar, leaving me without even an eensey weensey opportunity to snag some of the peanuts from the bowl across from me. Apparently, peanuts were for 'paying' customers. Funny how they work that little bit in there, eh? Hospitable Canadians, my ass!

So, anywho, when the Wolverine left the bar, I followed him. I was planning to ask for a lift, but he just plain hightailed it out of there, leaving me with scant seconds to hop into the back of his trailer or risk getting left behind. Boy, that cold Canadian wind sure is a bitch. I sure made good use of that heavy tarp he had back there.

I'd almost fallen asleep, which is never a good thing to do in below freezing weather, when I felt the truck and it's entourage--i.e. the camper, the trailer, and by extension, me--come to a sudden, and kind of painful halt, when my face smacked into the side of the trailer. That redness was not all frostbite, my friends, oh no.

Like I'd assumed before, I thought he'd be a gent or some such. Despite his gruff appearance, his eyes looked...different. He didn't look like all those other guys I'd hitched rides with on the way to Laughlin. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me. Being alone for eight months on the road, that equals trust in my book.

So, imagine my surprise when he lifted the tarp offa me, letting all the cold air in, and told me to get out.

What kind of person does that to a half-starving, near-hypothermic kid? So, I did the only thing I could think to do--I tried to make him feel guilty. "I saved your life!"

And, god, did the bastard ever look hot when he shouted back: "No, you didn't!"

When he got back into his truck and drove off, I thought that was the end of the road for me. I was a goner, for sure. We were already quite a ways off from the "city" and it would probably be a while before anyone else came along.

It just goes to show you how strong and, might I add, wrongly-placed our faith in humanity is.

Of course, I was singing a whole different tune altogether when, lord bless his soul, the kind-hearted hunk stopped his truck just up ahead. I was so happy, I could barely restrain a yip of joy as I forced my numbed legs to run.

Faith in humanity restored.

The cab was a good deal warmer than outside, but it was still kinda cold. But Logan--that's what he told me his name was after much prodding, by me--was real nice about it. He raised the heat a little for me and even attempted to move my hands towards the heaters. Maybe I shoulda told him, right off, that my skin was kinda dangerous. Well, no, let's face, there's no kinda about it. Anyways, he seemed to understand when I explained my situation to him, so I don't think he took it too personally.

My tummy chose that moment to remind me that I was hungry as all hell, so I asked if he had anything to eat. A standard question, I thought. He gave me this...look before reaching into the glove compartment and throwing a bag of beef jerky onto my lap.

Now, having been raised on good old-fashioned southern soul food, I was thinking that we could maybe stop somewhere, have a nice meal, talk a little, get to know eachother. But food was food and, with the weather being what it was, I eagerly yanked my gloves off and dug in without complaint.

I was busy scarffing down the yummy, yummy food, and was halfway through the bag when Logan looked sideways at me, a worried tone to his deep, growly voice, "Hey kid, you should probably take it easy there, eh? I don't know CPR."

I just turned in my seat and smiled at him through a mouthful of yummy, delicious beef jerky, "Sorry, I'm just so hungry. Mm. And it's so good. Do you happen to have anything to drink?"

That's when it happened. Logan turned forwards again to concentrate on the road in front of us and was reaching behind his seat for something when the piece of jerky I was munching on stopped halfway down my throat.

I hunched forward a little, trying to cough it out, but it was good and stuck. I tried to call out to Logan, but he wasn't paying attention to me and my words wouldn't come out.

My hands to my throat, now, I tried in vain to spit the beef out. Getting desperate now, I thumped my chest and turned to Logan, hitting him on the arm to get him to notice me. My head was feeling woozy and my eyes were watering as my face turned blue, I'm sure.

"Jesus, kid!" Logan almost yelped, slamming on the brakes and grabbing my upper arms. "Spit it out! Spit it out, damnit!"

I kept trying, but the stupid piece just wouldn't come out. Next thing I knew, I felt the flat of his hand whack me hard on the back and the beef jerky went flyyying onto the windshield before sliding down to rest upon the dashboard.

I sat there, hot tears streaming down my cheeks and coughing belatedly, with Logan's arm wrapped reassuringly around me. God, what a close call. I'd thought for sure I was gonna die right then.

"Shit kid, you okay?" Logan murmured, his hand rubbing my back gently now. I don't think he was even aware he was doing it, because in the next instant, he'd pulled away, a funny look on his face.

I nodded, feeling both relieved and kinda dumb.

Reaching back behind his seat again, Logan produced a bottle of Molson's and handed it to me.

"But I'm not old enough to drink," I protested, but Logan just gave me this endearing little half-smile.

"Who's gonna find out?"

I smiled and held the bottle out for him to pop the cap and then I raised it to my lips and took a long pull. It wasn't that bad. Kinda gross, but not too bad. "Thanks," I whispered with a shy smile. "And for, ya know, saving my life..."

I smiled inwardly as a slow blush crawled up Logan's face. "Yeah..."

With my near-death experience averted, I decided to take an oath to abstain from beef jerky forever. Yes, surely with this experience behind me, all days from now on would be good days.

Settling back into my seat with a beer in my hand and a smile on my face, I continued to study Logan. "You know," I started, "you should really wear your seatbelt."
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