Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel, so on and so forth. You know the drill.
Setting: After FN
A/N: Please review. I'd love any ideas you guys have about what should happen in this story. This is kind of a 'what I would do if I was in Dark Angel' story so feel free to give me some input on that. Thanks.
A Normal Girl
Alec's POV:
I think Max must be losing it. I mean, that was the most civil conversation we've had in a week. Plus, she actually agreed to my idea. Max agreeing with me is never very commonplace. Oh, well. It's probably best not to question it. She might change her mind. That would be just like her. Damn fickle female.
I really do need to get out of here and do something. The couple times I snuck out to case the potential targets I looked up were nice. I got to stretch my legs a little and get some fresh air. But there was no challenge, no action. You would think with a "war" on transgenics going on there'd be more action. So far, all it has been is a stand-off, which, trust me, has been extremely dull. Maybe they're trying to bore us to death.
I gather up the maps I made of the three houses that seemed like the best places to hit. Just from my cursory observations I noticed some nice pieces that I know I could fence through some of my connections. And you know if they can afford stuff like that they've got a stash somewhere.
I turn around to take the papers to Max, give her a run down of the places, make a few "suggestions" because she just has to be in charge. But just as I'm about to shove Mole's shotgun out of the way and spread out the plans, I'm interrupted by the side door slamming open and Kyle, the X-5 who was patrolling the Southwest quarter of TC, comes in with a girl in tow.
"Found her wandering around inside the fence. No barcode." Kyle says, propelling her forward into the room and letting her go.
Well, that's interesting.
Everyone in HQ gathered around who'd somehow found a way into our little home. Mole, never one for patience or subtlety, jabbed at her with an MP-5 and growled the obvious question.
"How'd you get in here?"
The girl was obviously intimidated by Mole. Understandable. At least she wasn't screaming or anything. But her legs were definitely shaking. Hmm, as long as I'm looking at her legs I might as well give her a once-over. Not too bad. I'd definitely do her.
"Sewer system." she says quietly.
"I knew we should have posted a guard in the sewers." Mole grumbled, throwing an accusing look Max's way. Max glares back, refusing to back down.
A post in the sewers? That would be one hell of a punishment. And, knowing Max, I'd probably get stuck with it. No, I'm definitely not going to vote for something like that. I mean, we caught her, didn't we?
"What are you doing here?" Max pressed on with the interrogation, "This isn't exactly part of the tour."
"I came to find you." the girl said.
"Me?" Max asked, suspicious.
Well, I guess I would be too if familiars had me targeted.
"Well, not you in particular. All of you." she corrected.
She looked like she would have elaborated if Mole didn't interrupt with a sharp, "Why?"
The girl managed to look annoyed before she met Mole's gaze. That's enough to shake anybody's expression.
"Uh...well...I guess because I...well, because I felt like I had to." she stammered. She obviously realized how vague that was and quickly continued "What I mean is that I feel like I should be here with you, not out there with them. I..."
She shook her head, frustrated.
"But you're one of them." Mole taking a step towards her.
I expected her to take a step back, but she didn't. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"But I feel more like one of you." she replied.
That stopped everybody for a moment. An ordinary who felt like a transgenic? Damn, she must be nuts.
"She's a lunatic. Let's show her the sewer out." I suggest.
"I'm not crazy!" she protests, whipping around to face me, "I've listened to those idiots on TV and outside Terminal City every day. Everything they say is astoundingly ignorant. And besides that I've...I've always felt different. Wanted to be, even. I've wanted to be like you guys."
"Alec, you're right. She's crazy." Max agrees.
"I'm not. I swear." the girl pleads, "I just hate being...ordinary. Please, I can help you guys. I can get you stuff from outside, whatever."
I slowly smile as a thought dawns on me.
"We've got a groupie."
"What?" Max demands and gives me her patented 'Alec, this better not be something stupid or I'll kick your ass' look.
"She's a transgenic groupie." I elaborate since apparently Max is a little slow on the uptake.
Things are looking very promising on the 'Alec getting laid' front. That is, as long as I talk the rest of the guys out of kicking her ass to the curb. I wrap my arm around Max's shoulders and lead her away from the others. She glares at me for daring to make physical contact and almost immediately shakes off my arm. But she's still off to the side with me where I can attempt to persuade her to see things my way.
"Look, Max. I think we should hear this girl out. It is dangerous for us to be out there. White's probably issued our pictures to every cop in the city. It makes sense to have as many outside connections as we can get. Sketch and OC can't do everything. Besides, I like her. She sounds sincere."
Max looks suspicious, but she can't dispute the logic of my argument.
But she shakes her head anyway.
"No, Alec. I'm not dragging anyone else into this. I agree. She sounds sincere. Which means she hasn't got a clue. We're getting her out of here for her own good."
Damn, she's going the moral route.
"I think she'll just come back, Max. She seems pretty determined. And if she gets caught trying to sneak back in here and the mob starts tearing her apart for being a trannie or a trannie-lover, wouldn't that be our fault, too?"
Ha, beat that one, Maxie.
She opens her mouth to reply, then realizes that I've actually got a point. She closes her mouth and thinks while I grin triumphantly.
"It's what she wants." I add.
"Well, how do we know she isn't really crazy or...or a familiar spy or something?" Max demands.
"Well, some of us are kind of perceptive. I think we'd pick up on it if she kept having meetings with big dudes in dark alleys."
Max punches my arm and I know I've won. She always resorts to physical violence when she can't think of anything.
"Fine." she says through clenched teeth, grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me closer to try and intimidate me, "But she's your responsibility. You're the one who makes sure she doesn't get hurt or do anything that'll hurt us."
I pull her hands off my shirt and turn to go inform the groupie of her status, "Whatever."
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