Title:
Disclaimer: Not mine, oh but I wish they were.
Author's note: Okay, I am an official fanfic junkie and have written pieces in many a genre, though not all posted under this name, ha, so I figured I'd give Dark Angel a shot. Be kind please. Note: Since I do have several storied running at once, it may take me a while to update, though I always do. it just kind of depends on which story my muse likes best at the moment.

~*~

"Seven ball, side pocket," a young man said quietly. His eyes were locked in on the seven, the last shot he had before going after the elusive eight. She had one-upped him the last time they'd played, and that was definitely not his idea of a good time. This was payback.

He had lined up the shot perfectly; this was cake. He drew back on the cue a few times, feeling the smooth wood slide between his fingers. He drew back his hand one more time thinking, 'Prepare to lose,' when someone bumped into shoulder. The cue went askew, hitting the cue ball awkwardly and sending it careening into the striped 14 on the opposite end of the table. He swore beneath his breath and turned to face his distraction, holding the cue in front of him in both hands and leaning back against the table. "Thanks."

"Huh? Oh, my shot huh?" Her eyes flew across the room one more time, centering in on two people at a table, before reverting back to the object at hand. She sank the 14 easily and sized up the 8. "Far corner pocket," she muttered. The 8 ball dropped in as if drawn to the pocket. Immediately thereafter, she started to rack the table, though never once did her eyes leave the table in the corner of the room.

"Loser's break," she reminded him. He complied with a grunt. It wasn't even the losing that bothered him so much, though that was certainly no great thrill, but the fact that she could be so entirely nonchalant about winning, like it was a given.

"I wouldn't have lost if YOU were paying attention," he grumbled. He broke, perhaps a little harder than he had intended, and the balls whizzed around the table as if in panic. The 3 and the five dropped in pockets. "You're gonna hurt your neck doin that," he informed her.

"What?"

"They've been at that table for the last hour and a half Max. Neither one has yet to make a move out of their seats. They ain't goin anywhere. They're boring, remember?"

Max pursed her lips as she glared. "Logan," she drew out the name, "is not boring."

He rolled his eyes. "Right, I forgot. Logan's a real party guy."

"It's not like you even know him Alec. Two of you aren't exactly on the same wavelength."

"Exactly. There's a big difference between the two of us, I get that. Know what it is? Oh, yeah. I've got a life, he doesn't. He's talking with Asha Max. They're probably just working. God knows Logan can't go without trying to save the planet or some other hapless cause for two minutes." He set a hand on her shoulder, which Max quickly and gingerly removed.

"Maybe. But does she have to sit so close?"

Alec held his hands out as if to strangle her. "What are you twelve?"

Max apparently hadn't heard him, or was ignoring him. The latter choice was probably correct. She propped herself onto her toes to peer over the small crowd of people that had blocked her field of view. "I can't see. Maybe I should go over there." Alec let his head drop.

"You're obsessed you know that? Obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed."

"Whatever." He sighed, lifting his head slightly. He waved at her with one arm. "Go. Go if you're that worried about it. I can play pool by myself." Alec gazed at a few tiny, scantily clad clubbers. His eyebrows shot up as he spotted a particularly attractive brunette a few yards away. She was staring straight at him, and invited him over with a small incline of her head. "Or perhaps have some other entertainment." Suddenly he realized Max was looking back at him and chuckling. "What?"

"It looks pretty serious Alec." She pointed at him. "You've been chalked. I don't think the newest 'hot chic' would approve." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the brunette.

He started and a hand flew to his face. Drawing his fingers over his chin he realized there was a thick line of chalk running up his cheek. "Damn it. Oh shut up you wise ass."

Max merely shrugged. "Better a wise ass than a dumb ass. Later." She turned and was almost immediately swallowed up by the masses on the dance floor.

Alec passed off his stick to a passerby and popped his neck. Conjuring what he thought to be a charming smile, he headed off for the table with the brunette. She grinned, running her tongue seductively over her lips. This night was really starting to look up.

--

2 hours later......

The door flew open with a bang. Alec fumbled blindly for his keys with his left hand as he backed through the doorway. At that moment his right hand was busy trying to strip away the brunettes leather jacket. He was trying to do all this with her arms around his neck as they kissed. He finally pulled them loose and the two people nearly fell through the doorway.

The girl kicked the door shut behind them. She started to nibble on his neck whilst he removed his jacket. "You, are a very cool chic," he managed to get out between breaths. She pulled away, grinned, and yanked his shirt off over his head.

He'd ambled over to her at Crash a few hours earlier. "I'm..." he's started to introduce himself when she suddenly held up her hand.

"I don't care who you are. No names. See, I have a problem." Alec raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "See, whenever I sleep with a guy he always seems to fall in love with me. But I do like to play around. See my dilemma?"

It took him a few moments before he could gather his jaw off the floor. Then he grinned. "So then how bout a little guilt free fun?" A few beers, a little making out and they'd ended up back at his apartment, in nearly record time too.

Now this girl was half naked, standing in his apartment and he didn't even know her name. He considered it quickly, and decided that that was alright by him. The girl's fingers wandered down over his chest. She kissed him again, pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth. "You're the one," she breathed, moving to kiss him again, but Alec stopped her.

He took her chin in his hands. His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean the one?"

"I've been watching," she murmured. "Waiting. I've been watching for weeks. You're the one."

"The one what?" He asked a little more loudly, irritation seeping into his voice.

Her left hand ran over his shoulder and around to the back of his neck. The Bar Code tattoo. He shuddered involuntarily and removed the offending appendage. The girl just smiled and whispered in his ear. "You're the one he wants."

Suddenly there was pain, searing and hot in his side. She stepped quickly away, the now empty syringe dangling loosely in her fingers. Alec's hand pressed onto his side as the burning sensation meandered up his back. He stepped after her and she retreated behind his couch. "What did you do?" She didn't answer.

He kept coming, but with each step his legs felt heavier. His eyes went fuzzy and the room began to spin. The door behind him splintered and cracked. Men dressed in black yielding guns poured into the room. Something slammed into his chin and he crashed onto the floor. Alec forced himself to focus on his outstretched hand. He couldn't move it. A pair of black army boots came into his vision, then everything went black.

End part one

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