Title: HSU Ficlet: Postcards, Pets, and Padawans
Author: Dorotea
Rating: S (for "Snikt" of course)
Timeline: After Chaos I guess
Archive: Sure, Darry just loves to work
Disclaimer: I own nothing, happy?

Dorotea glared at the postcard from Xani -- then flew into a rage, knocking over the few book shelves that were still standing. Logan restrained her, holding her arms behind her back as he wrapped a powerful leg around hers. He snarled and growled in her ear until she calmed down.

After he released her she showed Logan the postcard, "You ever see this man in black, shred him, don't worry about the one in violet, I'll take care of him."

"Snikt," went the claws, puncturing the postcard.

"Grrr," Logan growled.

Dorotea rummaged through a pile of collapsed books on the floor, muttering to herself, "Pining away, cousins, could at least apologize...Aha! Here it is," she announced, proudly holding up a copy of, 'How to Send the Dead Back Where They Belong.'

"You're going to kill him with black magic?" Logan said (yes, he speaks if properly motivated). "Grrr."

"Oh you can't say, 'Grrr', Mr. Vocab already says that," Dorotea informed him, tossing a Milk Bone biscuit into his mouth. "And he's already dead or undead or whatever."

She grinned and began paging through the book as she walked out of the library and entered the Clinic, Logan trailing behind her. The Nurse and her 'doctor' were relaxing on an exam table.

"It's Saturday, we're closed!" The Nurse screamed. "And no dogs allowed!"

The Librarian ignored the Nurse's outburst. "I'm going unresurrect LP, do you have any rope and that knot book?"

"Arrgh!"

"Snikt"

CRASH

Luckily, Dorotea was smart enough to duck and adamantium is stronger than a payphone, much stronger.

Dorotea, Cic, Darry and Logan stood looking at the pieces of the phone on the floor.

Logan retracted his claws with a snarl.

"I guess that would be no," Dorotea said, noticing that Darry's fingernails were sparking purple lightening. "Okaaaaay, you can have my vintage phone, I don't really get that many calls anyway," she took Logan's hand and led him out of the clinic. "We'll just get the supplies elsewhere."

As they were prowling down the hall, Dorotea spotted Jen Jen innocently reading Hustler magazine in the hall next to Ky, who was reading Hot Jedi. Dorotea pointed at Jen Jen, "You!" she said excitedly. "You're not anyone's padawan, are you?"

Jen looked up from Hustler, "Um, well, um."

"Great, you're mine! Come with us."

Ky started snickering, poor Jen, padawan to a neurotic alternative wench that went through EA's like they were gum.

Dorotea started stalking down the hall and Jen hesitated, clutching her Hustler magazine to her chest.

"Snikt"

Jen jumped, then ran down the hall after Dorotea, who was talking in her trademark rush of words, "....we're going to need to gather some supplies...I'm not going to let that rogue, er, scoundrel get the best of me!"

"What do we need the supplies for?" Jen asked warily.

Logan snarled.

Jen jumped.

Dorotea said, "Black magic ritual."

Jen paled.

Logan growled.

Julia snapped a photo from the hall. "Looks like the Librarian is bouncing back from her loss."

Sere arched a brow. "Let's follow them, could be a story here."

THE END, for now.