Disclaimer: Don't own Dark Angel
My Christmas in July story for BlueAngel137 – and first off, I HATE it. Rewrote it about ten million times (at least) but still couldn't straighten out the plot. And since I kept changing until the last minute it's not even beta-ed, so please feel free to play 'Who finds the most mistakes'.
Sorry Blue, at least I managed to fit in your wishes:
1) a car or motorcycle chase – planned and trying but I don't even know how to drive a motorcycle in theory
2) a secret - yes
3) somebody losing his/her head (literally or figuratively) - kind of perhaps, later on
4) a dark room - yes
5) speechless Max - yes
… and of course had to put Zack in, even though I'm far from Blue-like Zack-writing skills.
xxxxxxx
Friendly Coexistence
xxxxxxxxxxx
Logan's Aztek, 60 miles north of Seattle, 10:17 PM
Rendering Max Guevara speechless wasn't easy. Ten years of looking out for herself in this broken world where a quick tongue often was as useful as quick fists had ensured that she knew a smart answer to just about everything.
Zack, however, had managed. True to his habit of busting in with life-changing news, he had left Max in a grade of wordlessness that was uncomfortably different from those occasions when Logan and his strangely intense eyes disconnected her brain from her mouth or when the only possible reaction to Sketchys's stupidity was a smack to the back of his head.
It was Zack with his crazily clandestine behavior and surprising revelation that had numbed even her high-processing brain with this tangle of confusion and relief, anger and euphoria. Eyes directed at the mud-sprinkled car window, Max was still uneasily aware of how the others seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction other than her empty gaping. She knew that Logan kept giving her worried glances and could just imagine how Zack continued to mask his stubborn self-righteousness behind this coolly appraising, challenging stare… but it was only when she thought of the weary, overwhelmed look of the forth person in the car that Max felt the prickling need to break the silence.
Just remembering the other woman's expression of poorly hidden regret, so similar to her own, almost caused Max to follow the urge of confronting Zack about having kept the randomly dressed female there on the backseat a secret for all those years... but as the excitement of the evening slowly ebbed into tiredness, the mere idea of having that unavoidable discussion right now was just too much.
Instead she absently observed Logan's concentrated driving face, trying to push away the prospect of yet another goodbye inching closer with every bit of bumpy road the Aztec left behind, the idea of parting again even more bitter after the day's unhoped-for reunion…
Uneasily shifting in the passenger seat, Max's gaze kept wandering to the back mirror to catch a glimpse of the strangely familiar face next to Zack's neutrally grim face. And as she returned the woman's tentative smile with awkward curiosity, Max once more contemplated how her sweet routine of work and dinner with Logan had been turned over by a simple phone call...
xxxxxxxxxx
Jam Pony, 5:49 PM
Business had been quiet all day, allowing them to stay out of the drizzle even though within earshot of Normal's bip-biping, increasingly nervous at the aggravating sight of his messengers idly gathering around Sketchy and the ever sweetly smiling Natalie.
With the grin a of an oversized Cheshire cat matching his mindlessly devoted puppy gaze, Calvin Theodore proudly announced that his sweetheart had decided to give him yet another chance, just in time to celebrate their 17. months anniversary.
Knowing Sketchy's track record when it came to keeping his eyes and hands from other members of the female sex, Max only half-heartedly joined the cheers and congratulations as she grabbed a handful of Natalie's lovingly homemade, heart-shaped and alarmingly pink cookies. Then, rolling her eyes heavenward in the wish that her life would ever be as trivial as Sketchy's, she made her way out over to Logan and his new, yet to be disclosed mission.
xxxxxxxxxxx
If one day Logan had decided to ask Max why she continued to pick his lock instead of ringing the bell or simply taking the key he'd offered her, her shrugged answer just might have claimed it to be a thoughtless habit. She even might have gotten more serious, with a defiant look declaring it to be a little demonstration of how disturbingly easy it still was to get into Eyes Only's inner sanctum.
It was unlikely, though, that she would have admitted how she enjoyed that first moment alone in this calm, clean and so wonderfully spacious place after the ever-present grime and noise of the smelly back alleys and staircases. After a long day of meticulously
fitting her bike messenger role, Max appreciated those rare seconds of being alone and unobserved before making sure not to have come at a bad time.
Today all she could make out was slow, relaxed breathing, steady and undisturbed by otherwise prominent impressions like the oven's monotone whirring, the plain, salty scent of a simmering pot of rice or the distant pounding of an elaborated heart rate that together with a hint of sweat indicated a work out. Logan hadn't even bothered to turn on the many little lamps that otherwise dotted the gloomy evening – somehow seeming so much friendlier in here – with islands of warm, softly spreading light.
Finally sneaking into the office, Max found the reason why today she wasn't greeted by the familiar clicking and tapping of Logan's swift typing: With his eyes nearly closed and threatened to be completely overwhelmed by sleep, Logan's head rested precariously on one hand, the other gripping the mouse as if was the only thing holding him awake.
Somehow drawn by his face when displaying so clearly his typical, pre, mid and after mission lack of sleep, Max's feet carried her closer with stealthy ease, unwilling to disturb his rare moment of almost-rest.
She hadn't meant to startle him, even though on previous occasions he had half-jokingly accused her of plotting to give him a heart attack. Now though, that she stood too close for a standard, causal greeting, it just seemed easiest to dangle that last remaining cookie right in front of his face. "Sugar boost for Seattle's restless savior."
Of course he jumped, eyes suddenly wide open before relaxing at the realization that the intruder wasn't some villain who'd managed to hunt down Eyes Only. "Max…!"
Max just snorted, feigning to be unimpressed and not allowing herself to smile at his indignantly confused glare. And suddenly, without either really knowing who exactly had started it, something between them shifted...
It was him in the way he'd said her name unlike anybody else… startled and amused and exasperated, his sleep-heavy voice drawing out the one syllable in a way that seemed completely natural and had just a hint of something else that she didn't dare to analyze.
It was her as she kept up the mock innocence just about eleven seconds too long while absently pondering how odd it was that someone so emotionally uptight could express so many different things with just a simple lift of his eyebrows that didn't quite succeed to be reproachful.
And it was the both of them in their growing urge to say something sensible, the realization finally making Logan reach blindly behind his back in search of that file which suddenly didn't seem so terribly important anymore.
The thing that saved them from sinking any deeper into this undefined something wasn't one of Max's famous smart remarks or Logan's magically returning quick-wittedness, but the sudden, almost violently loud beeping of Max's pager. Unsure whether to curse or praise Kendra's excellent timing, she fumbled with her jacket pocket, attention more with this special intensity in Logan's voice as he briefed her on the villain of the week … until her brain belatedly registered the number on the little screen…
"Zack…"
xxxxxxxxxx to be continued xxxxxxxxxx
(Yes, another multi-chapter monster when I really should have finished the others first)
Blue, hope your brain wasn't killed by this...