James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

Author's Note: This story is sort of an interlude between my fics 'Way of the Warrior' and 'The Code of Honor' (just like 'The Apprentice Becomes the Master' was). I figured that since a year passed between the stories there was plenty to tell, so here's one of the tales. The inspiration for this particular fic comes from something Brynn McK said in an email, so I would like to take a moment to thank her for her words... so, like, thanks Brynn McK. :)

Author's Second Note: The title of this fic is the same as the title of the song by Jim Croce. This was not done by accident, as you'll see very quickly. For those of you that find music sets a nice mood, let me suggest playing the song in the background while reading this, as it's what I had on (along with other similar tunes such as "Dust in the Wind' and "Fire and Rain") when I wrote it. (Last I saw, copies could still be found on Napster. Not that I'm endorsing copyright infringement by downloading MP3's from the net, but since you're reading this fic on this site, I figure copyright infringement is not the most important legal concern for you.) I don't know that anyone has ever tried to add a soundtrack to a fic before, so if not, let me be the first. Enjoy.

Time in a Bottle

by

Nevermore

Six months, Logan thought bitterly as he sat in his living room. Alone. It's been six months since Max walked out that door. Well, six months since I threw her out, he corrected himself. He sighed deeply and raised his half-full glass of brandy to his lips. Or was the glass half-empty? He wondered. Saying the glass was half-empty was a sign of a pessimistic personality, and to be honest, Logan had little to be optimistic about. The last year and a half had not been easy. He had been paralyzed, but that had been offset by falling in love. Then he lost his money, but he had still had Max. Then he lost her, too. I can't believe I'm still around, he mused. I was ready to end it all months ago, and that was when I still had Max. God knows why I'm still alive without her around.

He had been so harsh to her that last night. Of course, he had known beforehand that things could end up as they had. It was why he had put so much effort into getting that last meal just right. He had planned out everything he would say, and in the end he got it all completely jumbled up, just as he knew he would. Not that it made a difference. I can't approve of what she's doing, and she was unwilling to stop. There wasn't much room for compromise there.

He heard the last chords of the song he had been listening to, and the CD player repeated the song, following the monotonous program that Logan had entered. Jim Croce's "Time in a Bottle" had been playing for the last two hours, but Logan had hardly noticed. The words and music fit his mood. He longed for his old friend. Despite everything he had ever said to her when she had been around, he found himself overflowing with emptiness now that she was gone.

Even with his uncharacteristic indulgence in alcohol, the depressing music, and hours of self-pity, Logan was unable to shed a single tear. He wondered what that meant. Am I over her? Or am I unable to even process grief as strong as what I feel? Even at the height of his teen years, largely spent pining after one debutante or another, he had never felt this wrapped up around someone, especially not someone that had purposely left him behind. It was strange that he had still not been able to truly get angry at the way she had left him and never looked back.

I wish I could just talk to her. I wish I just knew for sure she's ok. While it was true that Logan had received several reports about Justice's exploits, he hardly felt that second-hand information was satisfying his curiosity. What he really wanted was to sit Max down on the sofa, the way she had always used to, and play chess and trade stories. Then she would eventually suggest that he get some sleep, since saving the world was a tiring job. He would protest and promise to go to bed after just one more game, and she would smile and agree, though both would know that they would be awake to see the next day's sunrise. Those had been the best hours of his life, even with the fact that he had spent them in The Chair.

I wonder if I could find her somehow. As soon as the thought occurred to him, though, he shoved it from his mind. If he found Justice's lair, he would certainly have to make certain that the information found its way to the authorities. He could not become an accessory to Max's crimes, no matter how he felt about her. He was a journalist, after all, and that meant remaining objective. He knew he could never seek her out, never see her again as long as she continued her illegal activities.

"God, Max, why couldn't you just live a normal life, like you did when you first got here?" he asked into the empty room.

"Because it's not the person I am," Max answered from a rooftop across the street, looking through her binoculars and listening to the sounds of Logan's apartment through a small microphone she had planted earlier in the day when he had been out. She wished she could say the words to his face, but also knew that she had no business going anywhere near her friend. It would only mess him up even more.

She could not believe that he was still upset about their parting, even after so long. She had thought that she was the only one that had been dominated by so much pain, but now she knew differently. Knowing that he cared so deeply only tore at her all that much more. She had never even imagined how much she was leaving behind when she had left.

But there never seems, to be enough time, to do the things, you want to do once you find them, the music played. The words were the perfect parallel to the emotions that Max felt, and to all that she had shared with Logan. The melancholy lyrics caused an unbidden tear to trickle down her cheek, even though she had already heard the song God only knew how many times in the past two hours. I can't believe he's making me cry, even after all this time. Someday I'm gonna have to kick his ass for this. The thought brought and amusing mental image into her mind and shifted her mood immediately. She began to smile, remembering all of the happiness that she and her friend had once shared. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

So much to leave behind, she mused. Was it really all worth it? Here I am, sitting a hundred feet from the one place where I want to be more than anything else in the world. I could go there, too. All I have to do is give up being what I was meant to be... She considered the situation for a moment, and a scowl began to replace her smile. Yeah, and Logan could go looking for me anytime he wanted, but he could never do it as long as he's still living the life of Eyes Only. I wouldn't really expect him to give up his destiny for me any more than I could make the same decision myself.

She took out her earphone and placed it in her pocket as she stood, ignoring the stiffness of joints that had been completely motionless for hours. As much as she wanted to spend time with her old friend, she knew it was out of the question. He had a job to do, and so did she. For the time being, that meant she had to get down to the waterfront. Word had it a chop shop had just opened, and Max wanted to shut it down as soon as she could. Well, that and I have to get a new clutch for my bike, she reminded herself. No shame in getting a little shopping done as long as I'm working.

Fin

Ok, so this is far sappier than just about anything I've ever written. Therefore, I'm sorry if this disappointed anyone that's used to my more action-oriented work. Be a nice reader and write a review, though, ok? It's pretty much your best chance to blast me for this, and to make sure I never, ever get sappy again.