Logan eyed the mousy blonde at the bar. She seemed kinda familiar for some reason. Well, there had been a long line of broads in his long life so it couldn't be helped if he only faintly recognized some of them. This one seemed kinda young for him to know that way, though. She seemed hardly old enought to be in a bar. "Hey, all dark and grissly." said a breathless feminine voice. "Could I buy you a drink?"

He turned to find the blonde leaning on the bar beside him. She wasn't model material but neither was she hard on the eyes. Just one of those girl next door types right down to her tight jeans and white tank top. "No." he answered, motioning at the bartender "But I could buy you one. Another Bud and one tequila sunrise."

"How'd you know?" she asked, smiling widely. Obviously not a huge bar goer.

He shrugged and slid her drink over to her. "I' ve been keeping an eye on you." he lied. Truth was, he could smell the cheap stuff that passed for tequila in this joint.

Her smile shrank a fraction. "Really?Whys' that?"

"I wanted to see if you were gonna start a table." he said indicatiing the pool table that had just come open. "Unless you don't play..."

She placed her hand on his arm. "I'd love to play." Another lie but nothing Logan wasn't used to. The dames were always eager to follow a guys' suggestions if he bought her a drink, no matter the year. He racked up the balls and indicated she should take the first shot. To his suprise she broke expertly. Obviously she had just not wanted to play.

"So whats' your name? he asked, lining up his shot. "15 in the corner."

She watched his ball roll obligingly in its' alloted corner."I'm Logan Cerise Mystercamper. And you are?"

"Nine in the side." That shot missed and he stood. She lined up on her named ball and sank it easily. "Logan is an unusual name for a girl, ain't it?" he asked, a little suprised

"I guess...I ain't ever met a girl with it." She sank two more balls in a combination shot." But since theres' no boys in the family, I was named after my grandfather." Another ball clunked into a corner pocket. "Or at least my grandma said thats what his name was." Clunk.

Logan lit a cigar and leaned on his que. He certainly hadn't counted on having himself wiped all over the pool table. This girl was way more than met the eyes. That familiarity still bothered him, though. "Never met your granfather?" he asked as she finally sank one of his balls. "Die early? One in the corner."

She stood up and shrugged. "He may have. Granma said he never came back form the war."

Logan missed his shot. He took a long pull from his beer bottle. "War, huh? Which one?"

The girl never looked at him, squinting instead at the pool table as she mentally lined up her next shot. "I think it was World War Two. I read some of the letters he sent home to granma. They were supposed to get married when he got back but all she got was a medal of valor. Ten in the side." She stood up, surveying her work with a lopsided smile.

"Tell me, what was your grandmothers' name?" Logan suddenly had a chill go down his back.

"I think I'll sink the 8 ball in the far corner..a bit of a challenge.."she chalked her que and frowned for a moment, looking at him. "I think.." she lined up her shot " her name was Helen Marie Thompson, from Mobile, Alabama. Champion of the Confederate Sisters Pool League five years running." Clunk! "She said thats' how she met Grandad, at a pool tournament." Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmclunk! She stood up, smiling. "Learned everything..." Logan looked around. She was alone at the table. 'Dammit!' she thought, smelling his panic..' I gotta stop telling people how granma met grandad on the first date.....'


PS~you get it, doncha, doncha??