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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes: In response to a question regarding my earlier fics, this has nothing to do with anything I've written before. I hope that's not a bad thing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The Past is Sometimes Prelude

"Can we talk?" Alec asked casually as he walked up to Max.

"Gimme a few minutes," Max answered, never looking up from the paperwork in her hand. Alec knew what it was – daily reports on power usage, ammunition stores, food supplies, and tryptophan rations. It was all incredibly boring to him, and he was grateful that Max didn't ask him to stick around and go over it all with her. Then again, that would have been unlike her. Lately she'd been getting far more withdrawn, taking on all of the responsibilities herself. She was afraid to trust anyone else with the burdens of responsibility; she was afraid of how she could ever look herself in the mirror again if someone she'd trusted with authority went and screwed up.

"I'll be up in the tower," Alec muttered, feigning disappointment that she couldn't talk to him right away. He'd been preparing for this conversation for days, now. Every word, every gesture… they had all been planned. She had to be thinking of him as an immature, socially inept transgenic when they spoke. She couldn't be permitted to think of him as patient and devious.

He walked away quickly, sighing slightly as he went. Once he was in the tower he continued his charade, despite the fact that he was alone. He paced back and forth, openly displaying his irritation at having to wait to ask a simple question. Much later, but far sooner than he'd expected, Max joined him.

"What do you need?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him impatiently. She clearly didn't like that she had to take time out of her schedule for Alec. That would work in his favor.

"I've been thinking about White," he told her. "I figure he's probably the most dangerous single individual out there."

"How do you figure?"

"He's got more information about us than anyone else," Alec reasoned. "He's fought us several times – he knows our strengths, weaknesses, and methods. His position of authority gives him an opportunity to speak about us very publicly."

"Don't worry about White," Max responded calmly. "He'll never do anything too stupid as long as his son is still missing."

"And what if anything ever happens to you?" Alec asked pointedly. Max could only stare blankly in response. It was everything Alec had hoped – this wasn't a problem she'd thought about yet. "You're the only one who knows where Ray is," Alec continued. "If you get killed – not an unlikely possibility with all the sharpshooters looking at us every minute of every day – then White is probably gonna ask for immediate evidence that someone here knows where his son is. We can't continue to use the kid as a deterrent if we can't produce him."

"And what would you have me do?" Max asked. "It's not like I can just tell everybody here."

"No, but you could tell one or two people," Alec answered.

"Like you?" Max asked with a smile.

"Yeah, right," Alec said, feigning amusement at the suggestion. This was the most difficult part of his plan. It had to be played perfectly.

"Tell Joshua," Alec suggested. "I know he's probably the one you'd like to have take over if anything ever happened to you."

"I don't know…"

"You could tell Mole," Alec added. The flash of concern that passed over Max's face was everything Alec had hoped for. Her thoughts were going exactly where he wanted them to. "A lot of the transgenics listen to him. Especially the freaks. And --"

"Don't call them freaks," Max interrupted. "And besides, maybe Mole isn't the best person to give that kind of information to. He's a little…"

"I know," Alec admitted. "Then tell Joshua. That whole crowd listens to him, too." Max's brow furrowed, and Alec could swear he knew exactly what she was thinking – Sure the freaks listen to Mole, and they'll listen to Joshua… but in the end, even Joshua will listen to Mole. And Mole's too militant. That entire faction is too dangerous to trust with Ray's welfare right now. It has to be someone else…

"Alec…" Max muttered. He could see it in her eyes – she needed a transgenic to trust, and as much as it was tearing her up inside, she was beginning to realize that Alec was her only real option. He looked directly into her eyes, smiling thinly the way he thought Ben might have. His expression had the desired effect. "If I tell you, you have to keep it a secret. Okay?"

"Don't tell me," Alec objected, his words sounding in his ears like 'please don't throw me into the briar patch.' He took a step back and looked her over, as if he was searching for some sign of insanity. "I don't want to know, Max. That wasn't my point in any of this. I simply think someone should know. I don't think I'm that someone."

"That's why it has to be you," Max replied, just as Alec knew she would. "Listen, you just have to keep it quiet, okay? Not even Logan has known where Ray is since the first time I had him moved."

"The first time you had him moved?"

"We move him every two weeks," Max explained. "There are Familiars everywhere, and we don't know what they look like. Krit is helping me out on this one – he has Ray under lock and key; and just to make sure no one has much of a chance to stumble across him, we keep him moving."

"Good thinking," Alec commented.

"Right now he's in New Paltz, New York," Max explained. "He's due to be moved in three days. I'll tell Krit you're in on the plan, and he'll get in touch with you. The two of you will come up with some way to keep in touch, some way I won't know about."

"I understand," Alec replied. It was obvious that Max was taking precautions; if she was captured rather than killed, she didn't want to have any idea how Krit and Alec would handle Ray. She couldn't surrender information she didn't have.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can I help you?" the hostess asked, a disapproving scowl on her face.

"Abe Frohmann, party of one," Alec told her, ignoring her expression. He knew the reason – he didn't exactly look the part of Delmonico's regular clientele. Alec was fulfilling the letter of the dress code, wearing a white dress shirt with a thin, black tie and a black sports jacket, but the faded blue jeans and well-worn combat boots certainly didn't adhere to the spirit of Delmonico's code. Alec was also well aware that his disheveled hair and several days of stubble didn't help his cause any.

"I'm afraid you do not comply with our dress code," the woman said tactfully.

"Dress code is jacket and tie," Alec replied, pointing to a board behind her. "I have a jacket. I have a tie. If you have a problem with anything else I'm wearing you should've been more specific in your policy."

"I see," she answered hesitantly, glancing away toward her left where a man in a dark blue, pinstripe suit was schmoozing the customers. The manager, Alec guessed. Maybe I can have a little bit of fun before I work. He caught sight of Alec and immediately walked over to deal with 'the situation.'

"Is there a problem?" the manager asked as he approached the podium.

"Not at all," Alec said smoothly. "I was simply having a discussion about your dress code. Apparently, your hostess feels I'm not properly attired."

"Well…" the manager's voice trailed off. He was obviously weighing the situation very carefully in his head. On the one hand, he was hesitant to let a scruffy man like Alec into his four-star restaurant. On the other hand, the manager was weighing the odds of Alec being one of the young computer impresarios who were helping to resurrect Seattle's tech industry. They were all in their twenties, and all were well-known as being unprofessional as hell in their appearance. But they also all spent big and tipped exceedingly well. It wouldn't do to turn away such a customer, especially when he was likely scouting out the restaurant as a possible location for impressing potential clients.

"Perhaps I should go," Alec commented, beginning to turn on his heel just as the manager reached his decision.

"No, that's okay," the man said diplomatically. "You are, of course, abiding by the dress code. I know how it is these days, the young businessmen dressing for comfort more than as a means to impress."

"It is all about the results," Alec said with a friendly smile. "I apologize if I've caused any discomfort. Should I return in the future, I'll be more careful about my wardrobe."

"Oh, that's quite all right," the manager answered. He looked at the seating chart on the podium, deciding to show Alec to his table himself. Alec also took the opportunity to scan the papers on the podium. Next to the seating chart was the reservation list, and as he expected, there was Jonathan Wagner written in at 9:00, party of three, table 17.

"Mickey?" Alec whirled to his left, knowing that the melodious female voice was directed at him. He recognized the woman walking up to him, but he still couldn't remember her name. Thankfully, she got close enough for him to read her nametag before there was too much of an awkward silence. Keri! Of course – Keri. How could I have forgotten?

"Hey," he said with a half-wave. "I didn't know you worked here," he lied.

"What are you doin' here?" she asked.

"Scouting restaurants," he told her, also glancing at the manager out the corner of his right eye. The smile on the man's face told Alec all he needed to know – the man was congratulating himself for having figured out Alec's business. He was now very thankful he'd decided to let Alec in.

"If it would be possible to sit in Keri's section…" Alec said.

"Of course," the manager replied.

"But you have to call me Abe Frohmann tonight," Alec told Keri, adding a roguish wink for good measure. "I'm incognito and all."

"Great," Keri laughed. Then she turned to her boss. "Table eighteen will be leaving pretty soon. You can give that one to Mickey… I mean, Abe." Again the laugh. Alec knew he was in like Flint.

"Just give me a few minutes to have a table cleared," the manager said graciously.

"I'll just wait at the bar," Alec commented. "It'd be nice to get some Blue Label to help me unwind." He knew that comment would lay to rest any of the manager's remaining doubts. Johnny Walker Blue Label would doubtlessly go for over fifty dollars a glass, and Alec would drop a c-note to pay for it. The rest of the evening he would get anything he wanted.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Mickey," Crystal cooed as she walked over and grabbed Alec in a tight hug. "It's been far too long."

"I was here three nights ago," Alec replied, taking a step back, admiring Crystal's body through her see-through top and fishnet shorts. God, I so adore strippers…

"Three whole nights," Crystal shot back, a seductive pout spreading across her lips. "You missed the new girl's first night."

"The new girl?" Alec was fully aware that he'd failed to hide his curiosity, but that was fine. He knew the drill – the more curious he seemed, the more quickly he'd get to meet the new girl. It was one of the best perks of being a co-owner of the club. The world might have been going to hell in a hand basket, but money still talked. Investing in a strip club provided him with a steady source of income and a constant source of amusement. And the best part is that since I'm just an investor, I don't have to do any of the work, he reminded himself, marveling at the wonders of capitalism.

Crystal winked over to Chanice, who immediately went over to the corner table to clear it for Alec. There were four college-aged guys sitting there, but Chanice made certain they surrendered their choice view. All it took was offering a closer look in one of the Champagne Rooms.

The table had been cleared and wiped down by the time Alec and Crystal crossed the club, and Melody was waiting to take his order. "Beam and Coke," Alec muttered as he leaned back in his chair, settling into the surrounding shadows as his gaze fell on Jasmine onstage.

He always enjoyed Jasmine's show. The club had several poles for the dancers, but Jasmine had a habit of climbing all the way to the top of the highest one, about twenty feet off the floor, and then hanging upside down for a few moments before sliding down, inverted, and stopping on a dime with her head a few inches from the floor. It was an act that always drew a gasp or two from first-time patrons.

She caught sight of Alec within a few moments of her death-defying dive, and danced over seductively, discreetly showing off the ankle bracelet that he'd given her the last time he'd been in. She always showed gratitude for the gifts she received – that was another thing he liked about her. She wasn't just in it for the money, taking everything she could get her hands on and then treating him like dirt the way some of the girls did. She seemed genuinely nice. Polite. He hoped the new girl was the same way.

"Hey, Mickey," Jasmine said with a broad smile as she got into earshot. "How ya doin'?" She locked her eyes onto his, drawing his gaze away from her body and onto her face. Such powerful eyes, he noted for the umpteenth time. And she really knows how to use them. I can't believe she's happy just being a stripper. She could be so much more…

"So when are ya gonna take me up on my offer?" he asked her, just as he always did.

"College?" she asked, her long black hair falling over her mocha skin, hiding her eyes. "I'm not going to college, Mickey. I've told you that a bazillion times."

"You're breakin' my heart," Alec replied.

"Come home with me tonight and I'll break far more than just your heart," she teased. Alec had heard that Jasmine liked her sex rough, and he'd always been tempted to take her up on her frequent offers. But not her, he decided again, just as he always did. Not with that hair. That skin. It's all too familiar…

His miserable reverie was interrupted as the music ended and a new face walked up to join the two of them. "This is Amethyst," Jasmine said with a flourish of her hand, introducing the new girl.

"Hey," Alec muttered, his eyes poring over the woman who slowly started to dance in front of him, hesitantly picking out the beat of the new song. I can tell she's new at this, Alec decided. She's still getting a feel for the job. Probably not at all jaded yet, either.

Alec looked her over, marveling at how much she looked like a character that stepped out of an anime movie. The crazy-looking, eggplant-dyed hair, the purple eyes, the alabaster skin, the incredibly thin figure that still has a nice rack… As he sat in his corner throughout the night, Alec watched girls come and go onstage, but his eyes remained riveted on Amethyst while she was dancing, and wandered aimlessly, uninterested in anything in the room, when she was between acts.

It was four in the morning when the last of the patrons finally left, allowing Ted to close the club for the night. Alec was well and truly drunk by that point.

"You okay getting home tonight?" Ted called out, just as he always did. Alec knew the manager didn't give a rat's ass whether he was actually okay or not – he was only covering himself, making certain he checked on potentially intoxicated customers in his club before they left and climbed in behind the wheel of a car.

"Fuck off, Ted," Alec groused. "You know I'm fine."

"I'll take care of him," Jasmine said as she walked over. Or actually, I guess her name is Maria now, Alec reminded himself. The dancing was over, and the girls had all returned to the safety and security of their secret identities, the majority of them preparing to Clark Kent it through their menial daytime jobs or classes until they returned to the club the next night.

"I'm fine," Alec insisted. "Really."

"Hey, if you're not interested in me taking you home, that's your problem," Maria smirked. "You know it's an open offer."

"I know," Alec responded, mustering one of his rare, genuine smiles. He fought his way to his feet and lumbered toward the front door, grateful that his bladder seemed capable of holding out until he got home. The club's bathroom was beyond rank by the end of the night, and Alec wasn't even willing to risk his genetically enhanced immune system to the filth that the shadiest denizens of Seattle brought in with them on a nightly basis.

"You're not driving, are you?" Alec heard a vaguely familiar voice ask as he trudged through the back door and into the employees' parking lot behind the club. He looked up and saw Amethyst staring at him from a group of four girls who'd all left together a few minutes earlier.

"I would if I could remember what my car looked like," Alec jested. Amethyst smiled. Her face lit up in a way it hadn't onstage, and Alec realized he'd found a second dancer who just didn't belong in his club. She could do better than that, he told himself, ignoring his subconscious's questions about why he should even care at all.

"Why don't you let me give you a ride home," she offered, pointing to a sharp looking Mitsubishi Serpent. Nice wheels, Alec noted. No wonder she has to dance. The payments on that must be murder.

"Quit schmoozing the owner," Diane joked. "It won't make a difference anyhow. He doesn't mix with us commoners."

"I'd prefer to walk," Alec grumbled to Amethyst, ignoring Diane's words. As if the heavens themselves had decided to intervene, a flash of lightning lit the sky a few miles off. Alec immediately started counting. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11… Thunder rolled softly, and Alec cursed his luck. He hated the rain. Or, more to the point, he hated getting rained on. He was pretty much fine with the rain as long as he was inside, but the sensation of having rain fall on his head was always unpleasant for him. He figured the edge of the storm was roughly two or three miles away. If it came in his direction, he'd never get home without getting drenched.

"You sure about walking?" Amethyst continued. "You'll get wet." It was as if she knew exactly what words to say, and Alec found himself helpless to resist her offer.

"Fine," he said, punctuating his surrender with an exasperated sigh. He walked over to her silver car and climbed in. "So what's your name, anyway?" he asked. "I can't really call you Amethyst out in the real world."

"I guess not," she agreed as she turned the ignition, the engine roaring to life before settling down into a satisfied purr. "My name's Keri."

To be continued……………………………………