James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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Author's First Note: I just want to take a quick moment to thank everyone for the comments posted for Chapter 2. In so doing, I particularly wish to point out JoJo, CheshireKitten, and especially Becky. I may not agree with everything they said, but it was all certainly well thought out and actually reminded me that I've been worrying far too much about the pairings and not enough about plot, character motivations, and development of supporting characters. That ends now. So thanks lots, all. I can only hope that I make this story good enough to justify the interest of anyone that reads it.
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III – My Sister's Ex-Boyfriend's KeeperPerfect, Logan told himself as he cut off his cable hack and mentally patted himself on the back. He'd worked for over three hours on his latest Eyes Only report, struggling to find the proper balance of reporting and editorializing, tweaking every word and phrase to have the desired effect. And now maybe I should start working on my acceptance speech for the Pulitzer Prize, he thought gleefully, teasing himself just the slightest bit. As if.
It had been so long since he'd really loved his gig as Eyes Only. When he first started his cyber-journalistic quest for truth, justice, and the American way, his youthful zeal had carried him through the sleepless nights and lonely days. As time went on, though, his fervor slowly cooled and he started to suffer setbacks. It had made him feel as if he were slowly growing old beyond his years. Witnesses disappeared, or were killed. Law enforcement and other journalists started researching him, each with a different agenda. Financial resources, even before the major reversal of a year earlier, had slowly started to dry up. With every passing day it became harder to maintain his shroud of anonymity.
Then he'd met Max. One look into her eyes set him afire once more. He was reinvigorated; he felt young again. All because of that devil-may-care look in her eyes, he remembered. It's that same energy, that same look, that's fueling the hopes and dreams of an entire people now. He shook away thoughts of the present, all of them confusing and painful, and returned his thoughts to the past. Even thoughts that included The Chair were no longer that uncomfortable. He had spent a year in agony, imprisoned in a body that no longer complied with his demands, but he had eventually endured that challenge. And now I have a new obstacle to overcome – the prejudices of my fellow man. Way to pick your fights, Logan.
He sighed heavily, wondering at the work that still lay ahead. It could take years of struggle, and in the end he would likely end up dead or in prison. But it just feels so damn good, he thought again. Despite the dangers, he wouldn't prefer to do anything else. For the third time in his life he felt what he'd come to refer to as The Crusading Flame – the overwhelming desire to inflict one's will upon the world, to change it for the better, to be that proverbial one man that could make a difference. He felt it once when he'd started his work as Eyes Only, and then felt it a second time when he'd met Max, when her presence filled him with life. When she had died – when he'd thought he'd lost her – the fire had gone out again. Having her back again, but at a distance, hadn't changed anything. In many ways, things had never been the same as they'd been that first year he'd known her. Since then, they'd spent far too much time dancing around each other, 'not being like that,' and not enough time just being together, as they had in that happy time not long before.
And now she's gone again, he thought with a twinge of pain and sadness. Not that it should be any other way. She was right to leave; she was even right to lie and try to make it about Alec. It might have made things easier… He shook his head again, trying once more to chase away the problems that had recently begun haunting him. Forget that crap, he told himself. Concentrate on the important things, like that broadcast. What a broadcast!! I'm so the man!
A noise from the front of the apartment broke off his self-congratulating reverie, and he stood slowly, picking his 10mm pistol up off the desk in front of him. He took off his shoes quietly, knowing that he would make far less noise walking around in his socks, crept to his office door, and looked out into the living room. It was empty, but he heard another noise coming from beyond it, something that sounded like… Someone making tea? he thought in confusion as his teapot began to whistle. What the hell?
He exited his office slowly and carefully, keeping his body close to the walls the way he had seen Max do so many times. Despite his intense concentration and anxiety, he found his eyes wandering, soaking in the surroundings that were at once so familiar and so alien. Set had helped him repair most of the damage done to his old penthouse, and many of the destroyed works of art had been replaced with similar pieces funded out of Set's seemingly endless financial resources, but it still just didn't feel quite like home. It was the little things that really kept reminding Logan of that fact. Like having to carry a weapon around with me every moment of the day, he noted silently. Never really had to do that in the old days.
Arriving at the kitchen, he burst into the room, immediately leveling his pistol on the last person he had expected to find in his home. "Syl?" he asked weakly. The young woman turned and looked him over, smiling with amusement when she noticed his weapon.
"Hi, Logan," she said gregariously, holding the teapot right over a large coffee mug that had strings from two teabags hanging out of it.
"What are you doing here?" Logan asked, wondering at Syl's eerily calm demeanor. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she wasn't supposed to be there, or that Logan was completely weirded out by her making herself so at home.
"I'm your new bodyguard," Syl said with a shrug, her blonde hair bouncing as her expression developed a mischievous tinge. "Max wants you safe. And since you and I already know each other, she figured I was the obvious choice. I guess I'm supposed to, you know, make you feel safe without making you get too awkward around someone you don't know at all." She poured the water into the cup, and then picked up a bear-shaped plastic container of honey, taking several seconds to add enough honey to overwhelm any hint of a taste of tea. Logan simply watched this entire process in silence, trying to figure out what he could possibly say that might help him reshape the scene into something that made sense in his mind. He found it was not an easy process.
"What are you talking about?" Logan finally asked, silently admitting that he'd lost any semblance of control over the conversation and should probably just go with the flow. He walked into the kitchen and looked in the fridge for a can of soda, trying to seem as nonchalant as his guest did. "I didn't hear anything about you coming over."
"Communications are almost completely cut off in Terminal City," she reminded him as she hopped up to sit on top the counter, perching herself right at the edge, a playful, blonde gargoyle gazing across the room into Logan's eyes. For the briefest moment Logan wondered how she had managed the maneuver without spilling a drop of tea from her almost overflowing mug, but he shook the question from his mind as she continued to explain herself. "Max wanted to make sure you're safe, especially since you had the bone-headed idea of moving back into your old digs."
"Bone-headed?" Logan repeated. "I wouldn't exactly say it's bone-headed."
"No, you're right," Syl replied sarcastically, her eyes lighting up as she talked. "This is obviously one of the most tactically sound decisions you could possibly have made. Setting up shop in a location that's been compromised by the enemy… Nice move, Logan." She flashed him a patronizing smile and whipped her head slightly to the left, shaking her hair out of her face before locking her gaze onto Logan once more.
"It's not like that," Logan protested, trying to explain why he felt it made sense to return to Foggle Towers. "It's just --"
"It's just that it feels familiar?" Syl guessed. "Fine. But Max sent me here, so here I am."
"It's really not necessary," Logan assured her. "I'm perfectly safe." And besides, I can't have you finding out what I've been up to, he added silently. He knew there would be virtually no way to hide his activities from a resident X5.
"Of course it's necessary," Syl said evenly, her amusement vanishing from her face and her voice brooking no argument as her playful grin turned into a grimly determined visage. Logan knew that expression well – he'd seen it on Max's face numerous times. Is that another thing they taught the kids at Manticore?
"Look, Syl, I really appreciate the offer," he responded calmly, "but Max probably needs your help more than I do. She's the one under siege. I'm pretty much free to operate as I will. Besides, Set shows up from time to time. If I need a hand, he'll be more than enough."
"First of all, dropping by from time to time is hardly the 24-hour protection that Max wants for you," Syl countered. "Second, your role as Eyes Only is pretty crucial to her plans succeeding. We can't risk someone hitting you here. Again," she added evenly, though there was a playful grin that once more passed across her face momentarily, letting him know she was partially teasing him. "And finally," she added, "Max has to play out her situation as peacefully as possible. I'm a strategist, Logan. I'm most comfortable when I'm throwing together plans to take out insanely well-defended targets with just a handful of people. I don't see much point in coming up with a hundred contingency plans that Max will never use. It's sort of a waste of time, actually, and if I'm going to waste my time, I want to have some fun doing it." She slid off the counter and back to her feet, taking a half step toward Logan as her eyes began to scan her surroundings.
"I can all but guarantee you're not gonna have much fun here," Logan replied. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in charge of a small army planning to take on any insanely well-defended targets." Yep, conceal the truth by telling the truth in the guise of a lie, he told himself.
"Well, I won't see any combat, but that doesn't mean it'll be boring around here or anything," Syl commented, suddenly striding past Logan and out into the living room. She looked around quickly, continuing her survey of the décor, and then turned to Logan with a curious look on her face. "Where is it?" she asked.
"Where's what?"
"Alec mentioned that you have a PlayStation 7," she told him. "Where is it?"
"You're kidding," Logan answered. Syl seemed to be completely business every time I've seen her, he thought. It's hard to believe that deep down inside is a young woman that likes video games as much as Alec does.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Syl asked him. "Over ten years on the outside, surrounded by people who are boringly ordinary," Syl commented. "After awhile one finds ways of amusing herself for hours on end." Syl's demeanor baffled Logan – her facial and verbal expressions reminded him so much of Max, while her train of thought, so random and self-involved, reminded him of Alec.
"Fine," Logan said, surrendering himself to the fact that he was likely to have a guest for at least a few days. Until I can get a hold of Max and talk her into pulling Syl back out of here, anyway, he decided. "It's in my bedroom," he told her, pointing down the hall. "Just try not to spill any of your tea in there, okay?"
"Fine," Syl shot back, turning and giving him a radiant smile that could only be produced by a woman that got a man to let her have her way. "You're not gonna leave me alone in your bedroom for too long, though, I hope."
"What?" Logan asked immediately, shocked that he hadn't somehow stumbled over the one syllable word.
"Oh, I don't believe it," she replied, seeming shocked that he thought she had been propositioning him, though Logan had the feeling that her double entendre had resulted exactly as she had planned. She likes making me squirm, he realized, wondering how he would manage to retain his sanity until he could get in touch with Max to have her recall Syl. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Logan," the X5 added with a sly smile. "I only mean that I expect you to join me for a few games." She waited a moment, and then said, grinning ever wider, "And when I say games, I mean video games, perv," she added teasingly.
"I don't believe this," Logan muttered once Syl had walked into his bedroom, leaving him alone, standing in the middle of his living room. He knew that just having Syl around was an incredibly unacceptable security risk, as her overhearing just a part of any one of his innumerable conversations could betray the fact that he had a rather well developed agenda of his own that he wasn't sharing with Max. I'll just give it a couple of days, he told himself again. Then, once she sees just how boring it is around here, I'll try getting her out of here again.
To be continued……………………………