Chapter 5: Joshua and the Envelope
by: Mochaije
Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.
Summary: Virus bitch goin' down! After "Medium is the Message".
Rating: PG 13
A/N: What you've all been waiting for... Well, some of you. A very small group of you. Maybe one or two people. If that. Haha. (Sorry, it can't be M/L all the way through, that would be boring). New story title.
"Well... I dunno. Are you sure she's even yours?" I asked. Wow--Logan has had a daughter for sixteen years and out the blue, he's her legal guardian. She looks like him, I'll give her that, but I was so not buying this. I guess Max was just trying to be polite, because I got the jist that she'd become suspicious as well over the past couple of days and not showing it. Someone belonging to this White guy's 'family' , plopped into Logan's lap, never mind the fact that his 'friend' Max is one of their most-wanted and it's the perfect trap... For sure. Hah. Maybe she is Logan's daughter, I don't know. The only thing I know is that when I got back from closing my bakery in San Francisco, it was just a tad more tense around here.
"I don't know," he admits. "But Hailey's welcome here... It's either this or she ends up in foster care or on the street."
"It's not like I don't like having her around," I muttered, the knife in my hand slicing the tomatos evenly. "It's just that nobody freaked when you found out that you had offspring."
Logan chuckled. "I work for Eyes Only, nothing suprises me any more. Almost done?" I went from looking at him to looking at the tomato and realized I'd just about cut my hand off.
"Err, yeah," I put down the knife and took the tomato-covered cutting board over to the stove., emptying it in the frying pan we were making spaghetti sauce in. "How are the meatballs goin'?"
"Um," he looked down at his bowl of goop. "I need some ground beef. I've got everything but ground beef."
"Where's the beef?" I quoted in a stupid voice, setting the cutting board down on the counter. That at least got a smile out of ol' Logan. He went over to get the beef from the freezer and I turned, bumping into him. "Sorry."
"S'okay." I wasn't really aware of our proximity until then. We looked at each other for a moment, lips centimetres apart. We kissed tentatively and the contact sent tingles down my spine. I moved my hand up his arm, clutching his--blue--shirt as our We broke apart after a minute or so and looked at each for a second, not sure what to do.
And then I saw Max. I gotta say, she was way too good at the whole poker face thing, standing there with her arms crossed and a manilla envelope in one hand, no expression in her face. Logan and I pulled apart and tried to explain what happened, but her icy voice cut in.
"I really don't care. But it makes this manilla envelope mean a whole lot less. Ciao." The manilla dropped from her hand and hit the kitchen floor with a soft thwap and she turned to leave. Guess who went after her?
"Max," Logan insisted. "I ca--"
"I don't care," she repeated, not turning until she opened the door. "Just make sure Eyes Only gets that envelope, Logan." I winced as the door slammed and then bent down to retrieve the package. Max is going to hate me even more now, which is just great. I usually need her to come and save my ass and I know she's going to be a lot more reluctant to do that now, if she even talks to Logan in the next few days or weeks. It was inevitable that she was going to hate me if Logan and I kissed, but seeing it was probably even worse than hearing about it. And Logan will chase after her and apologize and get back onto curing that virus of hers, leaving me in the ever-awkward dust.
The envelope wasn't even even sealed... Must not be important. I pulled out the two papers out and looked at them.
Morgue photos. A creepy-looking man and and an old man, both with multiple gunshot wounds to the face. An RCF badge taped to the back of each picture, bloodied and in plastic baggies. The first was Larry Bealman--odd name, that--and the second was Laurence Sandeman. Sandeman, Sandeman, Sandeman... From what I'd heard he was Manticore's gran-daddy or something. The one who could cure Max's virus. And then there was that creepy lab guy that she and Logan talked about endlessly until a while ago. The first guy looked pretty 'creepy'.
I knew it would completely break Logan's heart to know he could never, ever touch Max again. From what I'd figured out, these two guys were their last chance. May as well let the guy have some hope, right? Blindly, I opened the cutlery drawer and pulled out Logan's barbecque lighter, walked over to the kitchen window, and carefully lit the pictures, letting them fall from twenty-six stories up. I quickly replaced it before he came back to the kitchen, looking unhappy.
"Asha, about just now--"
"Don't worry about it," I told him, excusing a kiss that I'd wanted to mean something since I'd met him. "You and Max are still together and all, I shouldn't have kissed you. You guys'll beat that virus."
"I think she already found a cure."
To be honest, I wasn't jumping up and down with excitement at that moment.
-----
Well, that was five-star entertainment. It's been a pretty horrible day; got my ass kicked by a sixteen-year-old, found out she was something I never suspected her to be, then checked the mail to find morgue photos of the only two people that gave me and Logan a chance at touching. I still don't buy that 'expiry date' crap. And I don't want to, not now. I go to Logan's place to break the news to him and who's in his arms? Fuck...
Bad enough she called Joshua my furry little friend, but she had to kiss Logan as well. I swear, I could tear her limb from limb. Or get Hailey riled up and have her do it. That's all she's good for anyway, right? Bred to be a killing machine. Just. Like. Me.
And at that moment, I understood White's point of view. I'm scum. That's all I'm good for, killing people. Well, maybe beating them savagely with my bare fists first and then smack-talking with them, then killing them. The thousands of ways to kill someone replay through my mind and I almost trip over a body. What is a dead guy doing in the alleyway beside a conveinence store?
Upon closer inspection, this person wasn't a guy. Black catsuit and hair, asian... Brin. My heart stopped for a second when I realized she was killed clumsily. Shoe marks all over the neck of her clothing, almost invisible under the thin blanket of snow. Her entire face and neck were bruised; whoever did this was incredibly strong, but extremely unskilled. I bent down, a single tear running down my cheek--I choked back the rest. Brin had scrape marks on her back. She'd probably punched her attacker--tried to, anyway--and got her arm grabbed, body twisted mid-air until she hit the ground... And her arm was probably still in this guy's hands when he stomped on her neck.
Clumsy. Untrained. Incredibly strong. Signature move? The flip. Able to take down an X5 with ease.
Hailey...
-----
"Little Debbie?" The dog-man offered. I accepted. Probably not the best idea, seeing as he looked strange and was offering food to kids like me. Mmm, chocolate.
"What are you, anyway?" I asked, strolling down the street with the wierdo. He had an endearing kindess about him, a soft stutter when he spoke. And Star Trek-style spots and shit on his face.
"First... Special," he grunted. But his grunts were gentle, more of the way he usually talked, I guessed, same with the slightly annoying way he lifted his chin up a bit when he spoke. I took another bite of my small cake.
"First from what?"
"Father... Sandeman made me. First. Pretty whack." Huh, 'pretty whack' sounds like something Max would say. So hip it hurts and all.
"Um, cool," I said with a nod. When walking with dogmen, smile and nod, smile and nod. His impressive claws gleamed in the moonlight and I thought he must've been pretty damned strong. I avoided the urge to stare and faced forward instead, looking around for anyone with the motive to jump me. Nobody. Glancing quickly at the man, I looked ahead again. Smile and nod, smile and nod. I should've just walked away when I noticed he was walking beside me, but he seemed drawn to me. So I said hello.
"You smell like Max," he said, whiffing the air around me. "Her jacket." He nudged me softly in the arm to indicate what he was talking about and I dodged.
"You know Max?"
"She's little fella. You know Max?" I noticed he was mimicking me, that he probably got 'pretty whack' from Max.
"Uh, yeah. I know Logan too."
"Max and Logan gettin' busy. That's the plan."
"Huh? Max said something about a virus and Logan said that Max was just a friend--"
"Uh-uh. Virus bitch goin' down, Max and Logan gettin' busy, that's the plan."
"Okay." We were silent for a few moments, just strolling through Sector 4 until we reached the 4/2 checkpoint. I spoke after a few moments. "Do you have a name?"
"Joshua. Father named me. Father name you?" Joshua stared at me intently.
"Father Sandeman? No, I'm not from Manticore. I think..." My tone slowed a bit, then went back to smile-and-nod mode. "My mom named me Hailey, though,"
"Hailey. Nice."
"Thanks. Nice teeth, by the way." I glanced at my watch. Eleven p.m. Great. "I gotta go home, Joshua."
We stopped and turned towards the run-down house we were outside of. "My place."
