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Disclaimer: The wonderful characters of Dark Angel are the colaborative creative manifestation of James Cameron and Charles Eglee's imaginations. Ya happy, you rich Hollywood snobs?
(realizes no one gets the joke and shuts up.)

Note: This is my first DA fic, so please be nice to me and my insatiable appetite for reviews.
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January, 2021

Logan! Hey, did you see the weather today, looks like we're rescheduling that picnic- Logan?
Max bounded into Logan's- she still thought of it as Logan's, even though she'd lived there for a little more that six months- apartment with the same abnormal energy she always had at six o'clock at night. She looked around. Logan's car was in the garage, something was in the oven. He never went walking while he was cooking.
Hi, Max.
He walked in from his study. Max smiled at him and hugged him. He held her for a moment, but his embrace felt strangely detached to Max. She looked up at him. His eyes were tired, maybe even- sad?
Are you alright? Bad day at work? Max asked.
She smiled at her jest. The small software incryption company Logan had set up since he lost his family's trust fund was quite sucessful. It helped his Eyes Only, too- now he could crack just about any file, since he designed it all.
Not really, just... he broke eye contact. Let's eat.

Logan remained distant and quiet during dinner. Max got ready for bed and got in beside him. She wound her arms around him and began to kiss him , but Logan pulled back.
Logan, what's wrong?
He inhaled deeply.
Max, I think we may be getting too... together.
She blinked at him in the darkness, not understanding.
We can't do this. I can't... we can't... have that future together. It just can't happen.
Max's eyes searched his, trying to find what was behind this.
We will make it happen, Logan. We thought you'd never be able to walk again, look now. We're living together, I love you...
Logan broke the gaze again, looking at the floor.
No, Max, we can't. I can't love you. We are what we are.
Max rose from the bed, getting angry.
You want to break up with me because I'm from Manticore? What the hell, Logan?
Max,... you're a killer.
Her eyes flashed.
I found pictures, of when you were little. I can't.. I don't want to... you are. You did. You could again.
Now Max's anger mixed with sorrow.
Logan...? You don't really...?
He kept looking at the floor.
It's for the best, Max.
Her lips formed the word No. But it never got past. Max turned and ran, only stopping to grab a pair of jeans. She ran down the stairs, screw the elevator, to the garage. Max, on her motorcycle, dissapeared into the cold night shortly after.

Leaning his head against the frosty glass of the window, Logan's heart cried out to jump from the roof, slit a wrist, anything to stop the memory of what just happened from flaming through his consciousness. But making Max leave had taken his strength, so he simply rested his head and let the tears run down the windowpane.

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TBC. But only if I get feedback, good or bad.