[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190202/a7dc8d6c55746f87ec44852f97c97ef0.png[/img][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/S63Ry7L/bobbileigh-1.png[/img]
[color=#BA68A6][b]Location:[/b]  The Casino[/color]
[color=#BA68A6][b]Skill:[/b]  [/color][/center][hr][hr]

After she was sure Jack was going to make it, Bobbi did the only thing she really wanted to do.  And that was sleep.  For a couple of days straight.  She awoke only to get something to drink or eat, and then went right back to bed.  Today she was feeling a bit better.  She had greater control over the bizarre flood of emotions she had been dealing with.  The rest had been quite helpful.

She showered and dressed in her usual daisy dukes and t-shirt before grabbing her gear.  Leather jacket, helmet, wallet, keys, etc.  She hopped on her bike and made her way back down to the Casino.  It was about time she put in an appearance.  As she walked toward the doors she noticed a single, familiar face.  [color=BA68A6]"Logan?"[/color] she whispered before she removed her helmet and ran up to the feral Canadian.  [color=BA68A6]"Oh fuck, it is you!"[/color]  Her voice was permanently accented with some of that Cajun she had come to acquire from her false memories.  She dropped the helmet and flung her arms around his neck.

She wouldn't call herself the hugging type, not normally.  (And goodness knows Logan sure as hell isn't)  But this was a special, fucked-up occasion.  So the times seemed to call for it.