Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy
Author: Drea Jackman
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net
URL:
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).
The Enemy Of My Enemy
Max started suddenly and sat up. She turned to survey the room and saw White in a similar position, his hand raised to keep her quiet. Whatever it was, he'd obviously picked up on it before her. She listened hard and after a few seconds, she heard it again.
She leaned over and gave White a simple military hand-signal, gesturing for him to stay while she checked it out. To her surprise, he nodded and turned his attention back towards the door. With that, Max got up slowly and cautiously ventured out of the room.
* * *
White sat there and tried to focus on what was going on in the present and not the strange sleep that had crept up on him earlier. He tried with a might that could only really be worthy of a Familiar like himself, but to no avail. He had lied to her - at the time just to have something to bite back at her with - but he was painfully aware of the fact that he did, on occasion, require sleep.
It was hardly something he wanted to share with Max. She was an enemy and one that had become his very own personal nemesis. The thorn in his side and the very torment of his waking existence - how could she now be consuming his unconscious mind? On the occasions he had, had to sleep since meeting her, she had featured in several, but only as the transgenic victim that met her downfall by his hand. What he had experienced only moments ago disturbed him greatly.
He tried to push the images from his mind, but even when he managed that, the sensations he had experienced quickly took their place. The surprise at her advance and the thrill in his seduction. He had felt her warmth and tasted her flesh. It was an experience that went beyond all else and yet it was still only a dream.
When he finally managed to banish the memories, it was only behind much older ones of their previous encounters in battle. Old instinct was easy to fall back on even if he berated himself as weak for doing so. As a transgenic she was the enemy, but as the prey she was his kindred. Even he was smart enough to admit that much to himself.
Whether he liked to admit it or not, White had long since shared her thoughts about the current state of their broken world. The standing between transgenic and Familiar was an impracticality, but apparently only to him. Since Max and her reporter friend Eyes Only had stolen his son away, his every thought had been of how to get him back. It was only when they initial rage died down and his father's message revealed in her - the one - that he cast a thought at the very ideal his father had tried so hard to preach.
As it currently stood, his kind had no cover and even if he got Ray back, he'd have no way to shield him from the enemy that now hunted his own as he once hunted the transgenics. Against them he was on an equal footing, possibly beyond, but there were fewer of them. Exposure had cost him the luxury of arrogance and whether it took Familiar strength to fight it or not, he acknowledged reluctantly that he would be forced to swallow his pride. He didn't want his son brought up in a world like that. Stained by the decisions of his father and forced to live in the kind of world he'd helped to create. White knew how that felt and he wanted none of it for Ray.
Completely preoccupied by the ever-growing moral issues his mind seemed to lock onto nowadays, his only thoughts were for the well-being of his son and the life he could give him. With his perception side-tracked, White missed the sound of heavy footsteps outside his room. Only the dull echo registered, but that was more than enough. Within seconds he was halfway to his feet, struggling with a leg that refused to co-operate and support his weight. He was too late.
A single figure kicked the door open and it quivered in its frame at the resounding force. He surveyed the room with a kind of military precision that surprised White and despite his better attempt to disappear into shadow, his advantage was lost. As the man raised his weapon to shoot, White threw himself forward, his weight giving a solid fist more power and the man stumbled back to regain his footing.
White, on the other hand, was balanced on an uneven keel as his bad leg seemed to groan reluctantly and reject his natural attempt to recover from his attack and remain standing. He could already feel the warmth oozing its way down his thigh and past the knee, causing him to wonder just how much blood he'd already lost in the last few hours. It slowed him down and it made him weak. Two things he couldn't afford to be, least of all tonight.
"Looks like something's forgetting the beating it just took," the man sneered and wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.
White refused to dignify his opponent with a response and merely glared back in defiance. It was then that the man suddenly swung his gun around aiming it butt-first at his bloodied leg. White tried to shift his weight and counter to safely dodge it, but he wasn't fast enough and the butt connected squarely with his knee. His leg buckled beneath him, but sheer determination and defiance made him hold his ground. Only just managing to reach the wall, the Familiar leaned heavily upon it and refused to go down.
"Time for a little fun before I shoot you," the other man sneered again and tightened his grip around his gun.
* * *
Hunters. By the time Max had made it to the bottom of the stairs, she could hear their footsteps clearly. They were still a little way off but if they'd closed in this far, they'd most likely get closer. A shadow passed the windows at the end of the corridor and she knew she had to act.
Within seconds she'd blurred out of the chemical plant, managing to avoid the vigilante's outside until she went around a neighbouring building. She quickly slammed the lone Hunter head-first into she wall. The resounding 'thwack' alerted others nearby and Max gave it enough time to let them catch a glimpse of her before blurring off in the opposite direction.
As expected, they gave chase. Although hot on her trail, Max could easily outrun them if she wanted to. At that moment, that wasn't her objective. Slowly, one by one, she picked off the next three and decided to simply lose the other two. If their position had been made, the best plan was to get the hell out. She took the next few minutes to make her way back to the plant, being careful to loop and confuse her direct path of travel to lose anyone on her trail. When she finally made her way inside and climbed the steps to her refuge, she noticed the door already open.
'Great,' she thought despite her knowledge of his physical state making her doubt the assumption. 'Runaway Familiar.'
But as she entered the doorway she could see White in the same corner, looking much rougher than when she'd left him. A man dressed in scatty army fatigues stood between them, obviously unaware of her presence. He had a gun aimed at the Familiar's head, his back turned to the transgenic he had really assumed had abandoned her enemy after their attack.
White didn't betray her presence, whether by his own choice or because he couldn't was still Max's next guess. She watched as instead, he turned to look up at his aggressor. With no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice, he uttered words that made the Hunter falter for a brief second.
"Fen'nes'tol."
The man paused at what Max could tell was reluctant realisation dawning, but she gave him no time to respond. Before he knew it, the wannabe soldier lay in a heap on the floor. She turned back to White completely in soldier-mode.
"Can you walk?"
The familiar was already attempting to stand up. Max saw him sway on his wounded leg, fresh blood soaking the suit, and quickly caught him by the arm to steady him. Slipping under his arm, she supported more of his weight than she had before. As they exited the room and headed for the top of the stairs, Max jumped suddenly as she felt White's body jerk against hers. Muscles contracted swiftly and released a last reserve of energy. he leaned down heavily on her again as another man dressed in black fell forward unconscious. Max didn't have to ask what had just happened.
"Looks like I can throw a punch after all," he quipped sounding exhausted, a characteristic smirk on his face.
'I need you able to throw a punch,' she remembered.
Perhaps he was beginning to enjoy the situation a little more, after all, someone had his back this time and it was a strange feeling. Max was loathed to admit it, but as the pair moved swiftly onward she found herself hiding a slight smirk of her own.
TBC
Author: Drea Jackman
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net
URL:
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).
The Enemy Of My Enemy
Max started suddenly and sat up. She turned to survey the room and saw White in a similar position, his hand raised to keep her quiet. Whatever it was, he'd obviously picked up on it before her. She listened hard and after a few seconds, she heard it again.
She leaned over and gave White a simple military hand-signal, gesturing for him to stay while she checked it out. To her surprise, he nodded and turned his attention back towards the door. With that, Max got up slowly and cautiously ventured out of the room.
* * *
White sat there and tried to focus on what was going on in the present and not the strange sleep that had crept up on him earlier. He tried with a might that could only really be worthy of a Familiar like himself, but to no avail. He had lied to her - at the time just to have something to bite back at her with - but he was painfully aware of the fact that he did, on occasion, require sleep.
It was hardly something he wanted to share with Max. She was an enemy and one that had become his very own personal nemesis. The thorn in his side and the very torment of his waking existence - how could she now be consuming his unconscious mind? On the occasions he had, had to sleep since meeting her, she had featured in several, but only as the transgenic victim that met her downfall by his hand. What he had experienced only moments ago disturbed him greatly.
He tried to push the images from his mind, but even when he managed that, the sensations he had experienced quickly took their place. The surprise at her advance and the thrill in his seduction. He had felt her warmth and tasted her flesh. It was an experience that went beyond all else and yet it was still only a dream.
When he finally managed to banish the memories, it was only behind much older ones of their previous encounters in battle. Old instinct was easy to fall back on even if he berated himself as weak for doing so. As a transgenic she was the enemy, but as the prey she was his kindred. Even he was smart enough to admit that much to himself.
Whether he liked to admit it or not, White had long since shared her thoughts about the current state of their broken world. The standing between transgenic and Familiar was an impracticality, but apparently only to him. Since Max and her reporter friend Eyes Only had stolen his son away, his every thought had been of how to get him back. It was only when they initial rage died down and his father's message revealed in her - the one - that he cast a thought at the very ideal his father had tried so hard to preach.
As it currently stood, his kind had no cover and even if he got Ray back, he'd have no way to shield him from the enemy that now hunted his own as he once hunted the transgenics. Against them he was on an equal footing, possibly beyond, but there were fewer of them. Exposure had cost him the luxury of arrogance and whether it took Familiar strength to fight it or not, he acknowledged reluctantly that he would be forced to swallow his pride. He didn't want his son brought up in a world like that. Stained by the decisions of his father and forced to live in the kind of world he'd helped to create. White knew how that felt and he wanted none of it for Ray.
Completely preoccupied by the ever-growing moral issues his mind seemed to lock onto nowadays, his only thoughts were for the well-being of his son and the life he could give him. With his perception side-tracked, White missed the sound of heavy footsteps outside his room. Only the dull echo registered, but that was more than enough. Within seconds he was halfway to his feet, struggling with a leg that refused to co-operate and support his weight. He was too late.
A single figure kicked the door open and it quivered in its frame at the resounding force. He surveyed the room with a kind of military precision that surprised White and despite his better attempt to disappear into shadow, his advantage was lost. As the man raised his weapon to shoot, White threw himself forward, his weight giving a solid fist more power and the man stumbled back to regain his footing.
White, on the other hand, was balanced on an uneven keel as his bad leg seemed to groan reluctantly and reject his natural attempt to recover from his attack and remain standing. He could already feel the warmth oozing its way down his thigh and past the knee, causing him to wonder just how much blood he'd already lost in the last few hours. It slowed him down and it made him weak. Two things he couldn't afford to be, least of all tonight.
"Looks like something's forgetting the beating it just took," the man sneered and wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.
White refused to dignify his opponent with a response and merely glared back in defiance. It was then that the man suddenly swung his gun around aiming it butt-first at his bloodied leg. White tried to shift his weight and counter to safely dodge it, but he wasn't fast enough and the butt connected squarely with his knee. His leg buckled beneath him, but sheer determination and defiance made him hold his ground. Only just managing to reach the wall, the Familiar leaned heavily upon it and refused to go down.
"Time for a little fun before I shoot you," the other man sneered again and tightened his grip around his gun.
* * *
Hunters. By the time Max had made it to the bottom of the stairs, she could hear their footsteps clearly. They were still a little way off but if they'd closed in this far, they'd most likely get closer. A shadow passed the windows at the end of the corridor and she knew she had to act.
Within seconds she'd blurred out of the chemical plant, managing to avoid the vigilante's outside until she went around a neighbouring building. She quickly slammed the lone Hunter head-first into she wall. The resounding 'thwack' alerted others nearby and Max gave it enough time to let them catch a glimpse of her before blurring off in the opposite direction.
As expected, they gave chase. Although hot on her trail, Max could easily outrun them if she wanted to. At that moment, that wasn't her objective. Slowly, one by one, she picked off the next three and decided to simply lose the other two. If their position had been made, the best plan was to get the hell out. She took the next few minutes to make her way back to the plant, being careful to loop and confuse her direct path of travel to lose anyone on her trail. When she finally made her way inside and climbed the steps to her refuge, she noticed the door already open.
'Great,' she thought despite her knowledge of his physical state making her doubt the assumption. 'Runaway Familiar.'
But as she entered the doorway she could see White in the same corner, looking much rougher than when she'd left him. A man dressed in scatty army fatigues stood between them, obviously unaware of her presence. He had a gun aimed at the Familiar's head, his back turned to the transgenic he had really assumed had abandoned her enemy after their attack.
White didn't betray her presence, whether by his own choice or because he couldn't was still Max's next guess. She watched as instead, he turned to look up at his aggressor. With no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice, he uttered words that made the Hunter falter for a brief second.
"Fen'nes'tol."
The man paused at what Max could tell was reluctant realisation dawning, but she gave him no time to respond. Before he knew it, the wannabe soldier lay in a heap on the floor. She turned back to White completely in soldier-mode.
"Can you walk?"
The familiar was already attempting to stand up. Max saw him sway on his wounded leg, fresh blood soaking the suit, and quickly caught him by the arm to steady him. Slipping under his arm, she supported more of his weight than she had before. As they exited the room and headed for the top of the stairs, Max jumped suddenly as she felt White's body jerk against hers. Muscles contracted swiftly and released a last reserve of energy. he leaned down heavily on her again as another man dressed in black fell forward unconscious. Max didn't have to ask what had just happened.
"Looks like I can throw a punch after all," he quipped sounding exhausted, a characteristic smirk on his face.
'I need you able to throw a punch,' she remembered.
Perhaps he was beginning to enjoy the situation a little more, after all, someone had his back this time and it was a strange feeling. Max was loathed to admit it, but as the pair moved swiftly onward she found herself hiding a slight smirk of her own.
TBC