Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel.

Pairing: To Be Determined

Rating: T

Warnings: original characters will be featured.

Note(s): None yet

Chapter One

He was on 200 when a pair of military issue boots stopped in front of him. It wasn't a surprise who they belonged to, heck he'd been excepting her all morning. "What the hell are you up to?" she demanded hip tilted to side, arms crossed in her usual stance.

"I'm assuming I did something to warrant the death glare?" forfeiting his push ups, standing up to tower her, eyes bored by her attitude.

With a raised eyebrow, her scowl deepened, "this whole recommending me for a mission with you is BS and you know it," stepping closer, not the least bit intimidated by his height.

"And here I thought I was doing you a favour," taking a step closer, "unless you're not confident in your abilities…"

Was he serious, "I know what you're trying, 494, and it won't work," stepping away unnerved by the fact he rarely took her seriously. It was like she wasn't worth his precious time.

"And what would that be?" A smirk graced his lips, as he peeled off his shirt, wiping the sweat, "me trying to get into your pants? Yeah, truth is you are pretty hot, but so are 100 other female x5s. Plus, contrary to what you believe, I'm not attracted to anything with two legs and a pulse. You're not my type 452, so don't worry about it," nonchalance covered his features like it wouldn't even matter to him if she went ahead and danced naked in front of him. True, she was gorgeous and fiery but, her bitchiness toward him even though she really didn't know him, was a complete turn off for him. Yet, what he thought was a reassuring statement, seemed to just piss the brunette off even more.

"Like you have a type," was all she said as she brushed past him roughly.

494 couldn't help but chuckle. It's not like he called her ugly.

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Her plan of action was simple, keep the conversation to a minimal get the phone then get the hell out before the guy tried prepositioning her. It was rather obvious to Madison that the guy expected something from her giving Traci an address to his home instead of leaving a number for her to call.

But the said man was in a wheel chair and looked rather harmless and not the lecherous jerk she was expecting. She said harmless not because of his disability but the earnest air about him that spoke of his integrity. One thing she was sure of though, was that Logan Cale had been walking around the day before... maybe she was mistaken.

"Ms. Crane," he greeted, wheeling himself further into the living room point out a leather couch, "please have a seat."

"So... are you a trust fund baby or is all this from hard work," she asked, eyes passing over the expensively furnished apartment. It was slightly rude she knew but she'd always been blunt and thus saw no problem in asking questions she wanted answers to.

"Being a trust fund baby does have its perks," neither embarrassed nor proud about it, since it was true that he did get the penthouse as an overpriced gift before he broke off from the family. It was also true that he kept it, but he wasn't going to act innocent about it or guilty. He'd made a choice and that's it.

Honesty –she liked that, "Then what was a trust fund baby doing at a press conference?" leaning comfortably into the softness of the sofa.

"I'm a writer, and was curious as to what the military wanted to waste tax payer's money on," he shrugged, eyes darting to the long legs there on display, before returning to those purple eyes sparkling with curiosity.

She didn't miss his blue eyes sparing an appreciative glance at her leg before returning quickly to look in her eyes. "Funny and contradictory Mr. Cale since your family's company has been contracted by the same military for the same project," leaning closer, her gaze interrogating daring him to lie.

"I make no excuses for what my family does," Logan answered with a smile, captivated by her tenacity. "That's one of the many reasons I've been cut off. The apartment was a last ditched effort to bring me back to the fold," he elaborated unnecessarily, but aware of where the questioning was headed.

"Okay, if that's true how come they didn't do the whole 'one hand giveth, the other taketh away' thing," slightly confused as to why he wasn't out on his ass.

He smiled once again, "because it would be in bad taste to kick their recently partially paralyzed son out on his ass –parting gift."

"Oh how empathetic of them," mocking praise at their compassion, before letting a short laugh. "Now that I've satisfied my nosy-investigative-reporter curiosity, do I get my phone back or will you hold it hostage until I apologize?" She knew it was shameless, flirting to get what she wanted but it always worked.

His blue eyes sparkled at the tone of flirtation in her voice, because her usual tone was already low, raspy and seductive. But when she spoke in an even lower octave, it was downright sinful and drew him in further. "I don't need an apology, besides you wouldn't be a good investigative reporter if you didn't ask scandalous questions."

"I would like to continue this conversation, but my boss will get all kinds of anal if I don't get back in the next fifteen minutes; I'm going to need my phone back," she smiled, holding out a hand for her phone.

He really wanted to be hesitant, but she had a job to get to, "I would like that too, Ms. Crane," he assured her, placing the phone in her palm silently hoping to see her again soon as he watched her leave

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CeCe couldn't hold back the tears that fell at the news, close to breaking down. The man who'd saved them from Manticore's clutches and raised them as his own was gone, murdered by some cold hearted son of a bitch because he wanted to protect eight more of them.

She never understood why they were so special –the eight, but if they were important to their father, then she would definitely finish up what he started as a tribute to his memory.

"CeCe, you've got to eat something," her adoptive brother, Biggs implored knowing she hadn't eaten or drank anything since they'd found out about their father's death.

It was killing him that he hadn't insisted on accompanying their father to his meeting. What was worse was the fact their father could have probably held his own if he wanted to, but it seemed like he hadn't even tried. He knew their father was a fighter, a great one and his death, just seemed too easy.

CeCe just moved away from him and watched the rain with a heavy heart. It was like the sky knew of his death and was weeping for him too. As much as she wanted to sober up and just be happy, she just couldn't. She deserved a day of mourning and she had chosen today. "I'm not hungry," was her reply as she watched their uncle walking up the drive way, with his own wards in tow. She loved her cousins, she did, but seeing Dalton and Gem wouldn't be the best at this time. "I'll be in my room," making a quick exit before her uncle or cousins saw her.

"Biggs," Dalton's voice called through the house, moments later. "Where you at?" the 15-year-old called out again, shuffling through the house in search of his cousin.

Clearing his throat to get rid the tears clogging his throat, he answered, "in here squirt," letting out a breath. He hated this! He hated the fact that his father had given his life for those damned eight of his. He hated the fact that he left him with the responsibility of pulling CeCe out of the depression. He hated the fact that it might have gone differently if only he was there. Damn it dad! He punched the nearby wall in frustration.

"You're not taking it well," Gem drawled from the doorway, watching him strike the wall frustration. The only thing keeping her together at the moment was sarcasm and rudeness; Biggs just happened to be the closest target at the moment, unfortunately. Her father squeezed her shoulders, silently telling her to behave.

Biggs could not believe she was being so nonchalant about her uncle's death. "Of course I'm not taking it well, Gemini, my father just died," he snapped, voice booming not caring whether or not it was an overreaction on his part. During grief, he was allowed to be irrational.

Dalton couldn't begin to understand how the minds of his relatives worked. His sister was always slightly bitter and now that the only ray of light that made her loosen up was gone, she became even colder. Biggs on the other hand was quite hot-headed and without his father, he easily blew up. As always his father being the peacemaker stepped in the middle to calm tempers, eyes stern.

"Sorry I didn't mean to blow up like that Uncle Isaac, it's just…" he didn't complete the sentence, as a gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

Dalton spoke up, "where's CeCe?" wondering what state she was in, if Biggs was this broken up about it. She must be truly devastated. When she had lost her mother, she hadn't slept or eaten for a full week.

"In her room…resting," he lied, knowing she was probably breaking down alone, but he also knew not to bug or pressure her when she wanted to be alone.

Signing to the young man, Isaac gave him a reassuring smile. He'd just lost his older brother, and now he was the only parent to look out for Biggs and CeCe, because though they were grown, they still needed guidance to travel the right path.

When Gem disappeared upstairs to look for her cousin and both Dalton and Biggs left the room to fix something to eat, he tiredly dropped into a chair and picked up a picture of CeCe and Biggs both smiling in their graduation robes with a proud Joshua Miller between them.

His death was a loss, not only to them but the world.

More soon

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