Sat, 21 Aug 1999
K Nice <>
Snipers [Rogue & Mystique] [PG]

Disclaimer: The X-Men characters, and all other recognizable characters are copyright to Marvel Entertainment Group. This work of FanFiction belongs to K-Nice Relax, I won't sue you. I'll just ask my Cousin Tony to choke you with his dreds. There was a 350 word challenge floating around some where and this is my effort.


K Nice


Rogue hunched down next to her mother. Even through her insulated green and white uniform, she could feel the cold that pulsed around her.

The air was crisp like lettuce and just as fresh. Her shins felt bruised where they struck the top of the drifts. An icy crust covered the snow which covered the black ice on the road. Even Mystique had felt uncomfortable negotiating the Colorado hills. Fat white flakes fell from the immense banks of water-laden cotton that packed the sky, kissing the top of the pine forest.

Rogue's attention fixed on the quartet of men on the other side of the road: two soldiers, one politician and one business man--all bundled in heavy parkas, indistinguishable if not for the intense debriefing she had endured that morning.

The two men were her mother's responsibility.

Rogue watched the scene eagerly, seeking her opportunity to take the soldiers out.

The two anonymous soldiers hovered near the road, too far to hear dangerous promises. They wiped the snow from their eyelashes and stuck their hands in the pouches of their parkas.

There was a slight hesitation in the actions of the rookie but so slight that their actions appeared simultaneous.

The private warmed his hands inside the front pouch. His fingers brushed against his cigarette lighter. He toyed with it, flipping it around, caressing the carved metal. The curved top was counterpoint to its heavy, expensive, rectangular form.

He pulled it from his pocket. He turned to brag about his father's latest care-package from Boston.

A hand went up: a warning to be silent. The sergeant cocked his gun, taking a single step forward.

His body slid forward limply. The rookie slumped to his knees. His lighter slipping from his hand onto the crust.

Rogue shivered as she put her gloves back on.

She ignored the whisper of twin gunshots leaving Mystique's silenced gun.

She palmed the gold lighter--a gift, from a Daddy who actually cared--and flung it viciously toward the heavens.

Pulling her hood up, Rogue joined her mother's side, calmly walking away.