A View From The Gallery

AN: This has been running through my head since a few episodes into Season 2. I'm not really sure how well this will be received, so please R&R and let me know!

Disclaimer: I don't own any DA characters that will be coming into the story, and the title actually comes from a Babylon 5 episode, I couldn't resistJ

"…and finally, Ames White, along with the entire FBI organization, once again send out their warnings of the transgenic menaces now on the loose throughout the nation. They ask you to please call our hotline number with any information you may have. We are asked to please leave their actual capture to professionals, and to maintain out distance from them. According to the FBI, some of them are capable of acting as though harmless, but we are warned to please remember at all times that their true nature is for killing and that they are highly dangerous. Again, our number is 555-748-6331." The screen froze at the click of the remote control.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the purpose of this meeting." My boss's voice rang out though the room. In his late 50's and balding, the man still contained this power that made everyone in the room notice him with no effort whatsoever on his part. When that voice sounded, everyone in the room snapped to attention.

"Supposedly you can call that number just to find out more specific details on the transgenics, even if you don't have information. I've tried, and when I'd asked what the hell this whole storm was about, I was transferred to a recording that listed abilities to watch for to identify a transgenic, and that if you are discovered to have witnessed these abilities without reporting them then you are subject to arrest. That's it. It didn't say what they want, where and how their striking, or why the FBI thinks anyone in their right minds would think that their next door neighbor is a genetically engineered killing machine and not turn them in to authorities. Those are the things that everybody wants to know but nobody but those tight-lipped political bastards does. Even Eyes Only hasn't been able to dig up anything on the transgenics. So we are. We can't find anything out through sources, because none of them know either. So we go in first-hand."

Hensky pauses to let that sink in to everyone, sharp eyes studying our faces. From what I can tell, most seem to be debating whether they can should dash for the door and run like hell or just tough it out and pray to God that he doesn't choose them. I myself am experimenting with the latter, an interesting experience since, ten seconds previous, I'd been an atheist.

It's not that I'm a coward or anything, it's just that the term "genetically engineered killing machines" doesn't tend to lend much to the life expectancy of someone spying on them.

"By all means, feel free to contain your excitement. Anyway, I'll end the cutthroat clamoring for the job now, because I've decided that…" And I still have things that I want to get out of life; I still haven't gotten that one big break that'll kick off my career, that might make someone recognize my name when they read a story I do, or, for that matter, have my mother say something other than "he's still experimenting with jobs" when people ask her what I'm doing. "Dan will be the one to pull this story off. Dan, meet me in my office in 5, I'll run you through what I want. He turns and strides out the door, completely oblivious to how he's just changed the mood in the room from bored and dreamy to funeral-parlor stiff.

"Tough luck Dan." Ryan finally says, looking slightly pale as he stares at me from across the table. Mickey gives a hoot of laughter and slaps me jovially on the shoulder.

"Right, poor Dan getting chosen as the soon-to -be most famous reporter in the country." He grins at me. "Hey, seeing as we're close, personal friends and all, soon as your next paycheck comes in, you wouldn't mind sharing the wealth a little would you?" I can see straight though his little speech, and I know he's worried but trying to build up my confidence and take the spotlight off my suspected imminent death. I can play along with that. Putting on my broadest grin I force a laugh.

"Sure Mick, soon as you hook me up with your sister." Mickey rolls his eyes as snickers break out. He'd promised to talk his sister into meeting me two summers ago, and had come back from his sister's place with no explanation for canceling and a broken nose. The weight in the room lifts, and nobody's staring at me like I'm on death row anymore as I get up to meet Hensky in his office. I do feel better.

"Thanks Mick." I say softly as I go past him. He gives me the thumbs-up sign as I head out the door.

So, do you think it'll be good? Either way, let me know.

When the next chapter comes is directly related to how much homework my teachers give me, but I'll try to make it soon.