Disclaimer: Any characters that appear in Dark Angel are not mine. I have
no association with the show and I'm not making any money from this story.
Spoilers: Season 1, Between "Camera" and "Meow." Sorry for the confusion - I messed up on the titles of these episodes originally.
Reviews: Please!
Thanks to those who've reviewed. Feedback is wonderful. Constructive criticism and suggestions are very welcome – I'm new at this.
If you like you can e-mail me at gilenagile@hotmail.com.
_____________
The western sky was streaked red and purple by the time they reached Canalee Bay. Logan maneuvered the car up a small private drive across from the expanse of water. The mountain peaks shimmed in the iridescent light way off in the distance, while the gentle hills leading down to the bay were fading into darkness. The drive curved upward toward an old two-story farmhouse nestled on a small plateau on the hillside. Max smiled at the postcard scene in front of her, warmth and light glowing from the windows and the half opened door.
No sooner had they pulled up beside the porch than the slim figure of a woman appeared waving and making her way down the half dozen steps sure- footedly in the darkness. Max came around the rear of the vehicle to see Logan, still sitting in the driver's seat, enveloped in an enthusiastic hug, as laughter spilled into the silent night air. The woman finally straightened up, pulling a cozy crocheted shawl about her, and turned to greet her other guest.
"Welcome to Canalee Max, I'm Anna." Max found herself gazing into warm brown eyes of Anna Richards, and pulled into the warmth of a firm embrace. "Come on, let's get your bags inside before you freeze." Max opened the hatch, watching as the sudden light illuminated the older woman's face, her gray hair pulled back into a thick braid accentuating her high cheekbones and delicate features.
By the time the two women gathered the bags, Logan had hauled himself out of the SUV and into the chair. He took the sports bag from his grandmother's grasp and placed it on his lap, following her up the sturdy ramp attached to the side of the wide porch. Silently, he gave thanks for the changes that had been made to the house during his grandfather's final years. Quickly, they entered the wide hallway, shutting the old wooden door on the darkness outside.
Half an hour later they were seated at the sturdy oak table in the large old kitchen with steaming mugs of tea, fresh sandwiches, and home baked apple pie spread out before them. "I can see where Logan gets his talent in the kitchen" Max managed to mumble in between mouthfuls. For the last leg of the journey there had been no places to stop and eat along the roadside.
"No, I can't claim the credit there. His mother was always the cook in the family. Her father, God rest his soul, used to put on pounds when she visited with the kids during the summer. When the mood hit she would bake up a storm and if Logan got in on the action, the kitchen would look like a storm hit it." Ann smiled at the memory and at Max's enquiring gaze. "Anyway, plenty of time for stories tomorrow. You both must be exhausted."
Logan, looking like he had dodged the bullet for now at least, nodded. Max, however, shifted nervously in her seat. Logan instantly recognized her "caged animal look". His grandmother, noticing their hesitancy, excused herself, saying something about having to telephone her daughter before it got much later. Max, making herself busy clearing the table, avoided Logan's eyes.
"Not tired? We could play some chess. Grandma has a …"
"Logan, go to bed before you fall asleep." She seemed as surprised as he was at the slight edge to her voice. "I just need to blow off some energy. Maybe go for a walk. Guess I'm not designed for sitting in a vehicle all day." Her smile was tenuous.
Logan loaded some of the dishes into the sink, holding back his arguments. It was dark. What if she met a car on the narrow road, what if she stayed off the road and stumbled in the dark on the uneven terrain, what if…OK, she was as surefooted as a mountain lion with a temper to match, so he had better not go the overprotective route. His logic, however, was doing little to allay his concern.
He knew there was more to her restlessness than she was letting on. He had seen that look before when, in a fit of stupidity he had shown her that poem he had written about her; when she dismissed the kiss they had shared outside his uncle's cabin; and sometimes late at night when he suggested she stay over in the guest room and she sped off on her baby to climb the Space Needle instead. It was a look he was seeing less and less of, as she let him inch his way toward her and he felt sad and angry that the shadows of Manticore still hovered over her. Some day he would bring Manticore down, but before that he hoped he could shatter the walls of uncertainty that surrounded her.
"There's a trail from the back of the farmhouse to the old cabin my great- grandparents originally built on the property. It's probably about three miles and the surface is pretty smooth."
"Actually, there's a boardwalk there now, at least half the way from the cabin to the house. The other half will be finished this summer." Anna had reappeared as Logan tried to steer Max on a safe course. She smiled at the look of surprise on her grandson's face. "I'm old Logan and I want to be able to walk back on the hill without breaking my neck."
"Max was thinking of talking a walk before bed. She's kind of stiff from being in the car all day." He couldn't help but smile at the look of concern that flitted across Anna's face. He knew she could be a worrier too, albeit a more diplomatic one than him.
"Well just be careful of the ravine about halfway along the trail. Adam, my son-in-law, had a team of young lads working on the trail last year, but the bad weather hit before they could finish it and replace that old fence that runs along side the path there."
Logan looked appreciatively at the elderly woman before him, remembering how she always managed to find summer jobs for young people from the village when times were tough and she could rustle together a few extra dollars. He also remembered the fence was surreptitiously built for his benefit, his grandmother worrying when her youngest grandson would take a mile long detour through the rough brush rather than walk the trail beside the step valley.
"Max, why don't I show you your room before you go out. Logan get her the flashlight from the dresser draw." Max grabbed her bags from the hallway and followed Anna up the steep stairs. "I've put you in Logan's mother's old room. It's small but Emily always loved it. She would sit in the window seat for hours looking over the bay." Anna's soft voice wafted clearly ahead of them, their footsteps silenced by the worn carpet runner held securely in place by brass rods on each wooden step.
Logan was left in the kitchen holding a flashlight he knew Max wouldn't need or use. He half smiled in resignation as he checked that the batteries were good anyway.
Spoilers: Season 1, Between "Camera" and "Meow." Sorry for the confusion - I messed up on the titles of these episodes originally.
Reviews: Please!
Thanks to those who've reviewed. Feedback is wonderful. Constructive criticism and suggestions are very welcome – I'm new at this.
If you like you can e-mail me at gilenagile@hotmail.com.
_____________
The western sky was streaked red and purple by the time they reached Canalee Bay. Logan maneuvered the car up a small private drive across from the expanse of water. The mountain peaks shimmed in the iridescent light way off in the distance, while the gentle hills leading down to the bay were fading into darkness. The drive curved upward toward an old two-story farmhouse nestled on a small plateau on the hillside. Max smiled at the postcard scene in front of her, warmth and light glowing from the windows and the half opened door.
No sooner had they pulled up beside the porch than the slim figure of a woman appeared waving and making her way down the half dozen steps sure- footedly in the darkness. Max came around the rear of the vehicle to see Logan, still sitting in the driver's seat, enveloped in an enthusiastic hug, as laughter spilled into the silent night air. The woman finally straightened up, pulling a cozy crocheted shawl about her, and turned to greet her other guest.
"Welcome to Canalee Max, I'm Anna." Max found herself gazing into warm brown eyes of Anna Richards, and pulled into the warmth of a firm embrace. "Come on, let's get your bags inside before you freeze." Max opened the hatch, watching as the sudden light illuminated the older woman's face, her gray hair pulled back into a thick braid accentuating her high cheekbones and delicate features.
By the time the two women gathered the bags, Logan had hauled himself out of the SUV and into the chair. He took the sports bag from his grandmother's grasp and placed it on his lap, following her up the sturdy ramp attached to the side of the wide porch. Silently, he gave thanks for the changes that had been made to the house during his grandfather's final years. Quickly, they entered the wide hallway, shutting the old wooden door on the darkness outside.
Half an hour later they were seated at the sturdy oak table in the large old kitchen with steaming mugs of tea, fresh sandwiches, and home baked apple pie spread out before them. "I can see where Logan gets his talent in the kitchen" Max managed to mumble in between mouthfuls. For the last leg of the journey there had been no places to stop and eat along the roadside.
"No, I can't claim the credit there. His mother was always the cook in the family. Her father, God rest his soul, used to put on pounds when she visited with the kids during the summer. When the mood hit she would bake up a storm and if Logan got in on the action, the kitchen would look like a storm hit it." Ann smiled at the memory and at Max's enquiring gaze. "Anyway, plenty of time for stories tomorrow. You both must be exhausted."
Logan, looking like he had dodged the bullet for now at least, nodded. Max, however, shifted nervously in her seat. Logan instantly recognized her "caged animal look". His grandmother, noticing their hesitancy, excused herself, saying something about having to telephone her daughter before it got much later. Max, making herself busy clearing the table, avoided Logan's eyes.
"Not tired? We could play some chess. Grandma has a …"
"Logan, go to bed before you fall asleep." She seemed as surprised as he was at the slight edge to her voice. "I just need to blow off some energy. Maybe go for a walk. Guess I'm not designed for sitting in a vehicle all day." Her smile was tenuous.
Logan loaded some of the dishes into the sink, holding back his arguments. It was dark. What if she met a car on the narrow road, what if she stayed off the road and stumbled in the dark on the uneven terrain, what if…OK, she was as surefooted as a mountain lion with a temper to match, so he had better not go the overprotective route. His logic, however, was doing little to allay his concern.
He knew there was more to her restlessness than she was letting on. He had seen that look before when, in a fit of stupidity he had shown her that poem he had written about her; when she dismissed the kiss they had shared outside his uncle's cabin; and sometimes late at night when he suggested she stay over in the guest room and she sped off on her baby to climb the Space Needle instead. It was a look he was seeing less and less of, as she let him inch his way toward her and he felt sad and angry that the shadows of Manticore still hovered over her. Some day he would bring Manticore down, but before that he hoped he could shatter the walls of uncertainty that surrounded her.
"There's a trail from the back of the farmhouse to the old cabin my great- grandparents originally built on the property. It's probably about three miles and the surface is pretty smooth."
"Actually, there's a boardwalk there now, at least half the way from the cabin to the house. The other half will be finished this summer." Anna had reappeared as Logan tried to steer Max on a safe course. She smiled at the look of surprise on her grandson's face. "I'm old Logan and I want to be able to walk back on the hill without breaking my neck."
"Max was thinking of talking a walk before bed. She's kind of stiff from being in the car all day." He couldn't help but smile at the look of concern that flitted across Anna's face. He knew she could be a worrier too, albeit a more diplomatic one than him.
"Well just be careful of the ravine about halfway along the trail. Adam, my son-in-law, had a team of young lads working on the trail last year, but the bad weather hit before they could finish it and replace that old fence that runs along side the path there."
Logan looked appreciatively at the elderly woman before him, remembering how she always managed to find summer jobs for young people from the village when times were tough and she could rustle together a few extra dollars. He also remembered the fence was surreptitiously built for his benefit, his grandmother worrying when her youngest grandson would take a mile long detour through the rough brush rather than walk the trail beside the step valley.
"Max, why don't I show you your room before you go out. Logan get her the flashlight from the dresser draw." Max grabbed her bags from the hallway and followed Anna up the steep stairs. "I've put you in Logan's mother's old room. It's small but Emily always loved it. She would sit in the window seat for hours looking over the bay." Anna's soft voice wafted clearly ahead of them, their footsteps silenced by the worn carpet runner held securely in place by brass rods on each wooden step.
Logan was left in the kitchen holding a flashlight he knew Max wouldn't need or use. He half smiled in resignation as he checked that the batteries were good anyway.