An Autumn Solstice
Disclaimer: Let me check . . . no, I still don't own Dark Angel.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: M/A
Summary: 'For the test of the heart is trouble . . .'
Author's Note: Blame my cartridge pen; it just doesn't know when to give the angst a rest.
December 2022
It was snowing.
But it wasn't the beautiful white sheets painted in Christmas cards.
The snow was thin, slushy, muddy and even icy in some places. It didn't help that Max, in a rush had had a moment of rare imbalance and had unflatteringly fallen flat on her ass.
"Damn snow," she muttered.
Logan chuckled above her, and held out a hand.
Max frowned up at him until she caught sight of the outstretched, un-gloved hand. Four months on and she still wasn't used to not having to watch herself around him. The cured retrovirus had been a miracle. She had been so overwhelmed with joy when what she had wanted for so long had become a not so impossible dream, that when the reality of her relationship had hit her, she had been wholly unprepared for the disappointment.
The man clearly adored her, and she loved him too. She really did.
But after all the drama, the normal relationship she had forever sought turned out to be an anticlimax – in every sense of the word. He was safe, she had realised, but that didn't mean he made her feel safe. Truth was, she always had to fret about his safety, and the fact that she was cooped up inside an Ordinary intolerant city didn't make things any easier. Sure Logan could stay for short exposures at a time, but there were often months when she didn't see him; and sadly when it came to Logan, after all the years of procrastinating, it was more of a case of 'out of sight, out of mind.'
She had had so much to worry about. The runes had finally stopped emerging – revealing Sandeman's message. Supposedly she was going to save humanity from an apocalypse triggered by none other than White and his merry band of fellow cult loonies. Yeah, whatever. But then of course the blood tests had to go on to show just what was so special about her no-junk DNA. Of course she had to be the one to have the antibodies to the virus that would wipe out the world. She was beginning to realise that a normal life was never going to be her life.
She had also had to deal with a failed coup. After Alec's disappearance, the other transgenics had been so sure that Max had kicked him out; they had after all been privy to a large number of serious altercations she had had with the wayward X5, that they had staged a rebellion in order to oust her as their leader. Max, however, had stood firm. Even Joshua had tried his best to restore the status quo, and whilst Max would have loved to put it down to her kick ass abilities and Joshua's heart string pulling speech, she knew it was something unidentifiable that had made them change their minds. The transformation had been so stark, if she'd been a believer she would have wagered something supernatural was at work, but as it was, she just wasn't. Max had brought it up with Mole, but he'd just given her some flimsy answer about how they needed to stick together to beat this 'bitch'. She'd never really bought it, but she had let it drop.
Logan's grip was firm, but his fingers were icy cold and she inwardly recoiled from the touch. He noticed nothing.
"You okay?" he asked.
Max shrugged her shoulders, as she tried wiping the snow from her backside, "Had worse falls than that." She was dismayed to find her trousers wet from her brief sojourn with the ground, "great," she muttered.
Logan chuckled again, "It's warmer inside, it'll dry."
Max nodded.
They were throwing a New Year's Eve party. It had been Joshua's little project, and he had been excited about it for days. She had tried to show her enthusiasm, but it seemed she'd lost the panache for partying. It didn't take a genius to work out why. That said, she had promised him; and if she had to plaster a fake smile on her face all night till the clocks struck twelve, then so be it.
The music could be heard several blocks away; the bass thumping loudly mixed with the sound of laughter and joy. Logan smiled, "Seems the party's already started."
"Yeah."
"You sure you're okay?" Logan asked again, looking down at her intently.
Max nodded, "why?"
"You've just been really quiet."
"I'm just a little tired," Max dismissed.
"If you're not feeling up to partying we could always go back to my place."
The thought made her skin crawl. Logan had been trying to get her on her own for ages, but she had continually distanced herself from him. She knew the reason behind her lack of wanting to spend time with him, but it just made her head spin thinking about it. For one, she hadn't told him about the real reason behind Alec's absence. She had enthusiastically joined in with Logan's choruses of Alec being a selfish, egocentric bastard of an X5 who cared about nothing but saving the skin off his own backside; but then denial would only get her so far.
For all the hurt he'd caused, she couldn't quit comparing them; their smiles, laughs. She knew Logan would never run out on her, he would never intentionally hurt her, but she couldn't get him out of her head. It was like Alec's spirit lingered around every street corner – and then there was that kiss.
She still hadn't told Logan, giving her yet another reason for ignoring her doting boyfriend. The last three months had been long, torturous and unbearably hollow; her numbness translating into passionate hatred for the man who had unwittingly caused her so much pain, pain which she continued to ignore and bottle up.
Swallowing another unhealthy dose of guilt, Max answered him, "No, it's fine really. Besides I promised Joshua I'd be there."
All credit went to Logan as he capably masked the disappointment, "Sure."
A couple of unease filled silences later, they arrived at their destination. The music was now deafeningly loud as they entered the temporarily converted mess hall.
"Max!" A jubilant looking Joshua exclaimed on catching sight of his favourite transgenic, "You came!"
Max beamed at him, "Course I was gonna come." Reaching up on tip toes she hugged him tightly.
Logan shook hands with him, "Like what you've done with the place."
Now it was Joshua's turn to beam, "Gem helped."
"It looks great!" Max added her support.
It really did look great.
The guys had found an old disco ball out of a dumpster, and strung it up in the centre of the room. The different coloured lights bounced off the walls and off the swaying bodies in the centre of the floor. The Christmas decorations, which comprised of golden, red and green tinsel and old holly leaves, were still adorned to the walls. It was all rather garish in appearance but Joshua had refused to take them down. "Still Christmas," he'd argued, and Max could only shake her head and smile at the heart-warming childish innocence Joshua unabashedly displayed. She would also have to agree that the gaudy decorations were a lot better than the crumbling paint of the usually puke green walls of the mess hall – it was enough to put you off eating there in the first place.
"So where is Gem?" Max asked, turning back to her friend, "She should be here enjoying both of your hard work."
Joshua answered her with a smaller smile, "Gem needs to watch littlest fella."
"That's a shame," Logan replied.
Joshua nodded, "But, Littlest fella lots of fun too."
Logan chuckled at that, "I'm sure she is."
And then he gave her that look again. He'd been giving her those significant looks for a while now and Max continued to studiously ignore them. She was in the middle of a bloody war to save humanity; she just did not have the strength to deal with a broody Logan. She had a family already, and right now they were her priority.
Max cleared her throat uncomfortably. A moment of silence followed; remnants of Logan's previous unease with Joshua still lingering. He never had been able to create the kind of relationship with Joshua as Alec had . . . Alec. Oh hell.
"Let's dance," Max said suddenly, grabbing hold of Logan.
Quietly stunned, Logan quickly answered her with a resounding, "Sure."
She tugged at his hand, and he followed submissively behind her. They were nearing the centre of the dance floor, when Max was stopped in her tracks by Dix,
"Hey Max," he said, uncommonly out of breath, "I was looking for you."
"Is everything all right?" Max asked frowning slightly.
Dix shook his head, "No."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
"We received intel, just moments ago, that the last warehouse in the distribution chain for the vaccine has been infiltrated by a small assembly of Familiars."
Max wanted to scream. This was not supposed to be happening. Not today.
"Where did you get this intel from?" Logan asked, coming up behind Luke, who was sat at a computer back at Headquarters.
"That's hardly the point," Mole answered, biting down quite viciously on his cigar, "We have at least a dozen or so X5's and X6's in there. We need to mount a rescue operation now."
Max nodded, "We will, but first, Logan's right. We need to know more about this intel."
"An X5 inside, managed to somehow relay the emergency signal from inside the warehouse. We picked up the signal from our visual feeds dotted in and around the vicinity. We know there are Familiars inside. What we don't know is how many Familiars are present and if anyone from our side's still alive," Dix explained.
"I don't know about this," Logan shook his head grimly, "Sounds like a trap."
Max looked equally grim, "Trap or not, we can't leave them in there. Mole's right, we have to act now."
Logan showed no pleasure in his instant dismissal, "Max, you need to think rationally about this. You can't go charging in, guns blazing and not expect casualties."
Max rounded on Logan. Her eyes set narrowly, her lips pressed in a thin pale line and her hands curled up in a tight fist.
"This is war Logan. War is never rational, and hell if the Familiars had been rational American citizens and not part of some wacko cult, then we wouldn't even be having this conversation. So screw rationality – I'm gonna do what's necessary to bring my people home safely."
"Sounds like a plan," Mole nodded in support, having never been an avid fan of the cyber journalist's work, or the cyber journalist himself for that matter.
With one last level stare at Logan, Max turned to the rest of her command and set about planning the stages of their rescue operation. Logan quietly took a step back into the shadows, resigned to watch from the background.
He rationalised to himself that he wasn't wrong to worry. The intel was shady to start with, and he was not imagining that the trio of transhumans were being quite obviously not so forthcoming with all the details. He had picked up on it so many times before, and it had instilled a deep seated fear that Max couldn't even trust her own people wholeheartedly. He had once brought it up with her, pulling out Alec's record as proof in itself, but Max had reacted entirely unexpectedly. She had shut down on him completely; fervently arguing for the rest of her transgenic family – that Alec in no way spoke for them all. He had apparently had no right to question their loyalty. She had given him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day; the iceberg shattering only slightly when he'd apologised for questioning her judgement.
It had been four months since they'd literally been given the cure for the virus on a plate, but their relationship had stayed exactly where it had been before. There had been no shift in the gears, and though Logan had tried, Max had made no attempt to move forward at all. Things had been rocky to start off with, their no longer forbidden relationship being an alien concept to them both, but though it had taken a while, they had soon grown comfortable around each other again. But then that had to be turned on his head by none other than Alec and his magical disappearing act.
He'd known it the day he'd met him. Alec was trouble, with a capital 'T'. Logan had naturally been wary of the male X5, but he had grown accustomed to him and in many ways had started to envy him a little. But one thing he had been sure of was that despite Max's assurances, Alec was always going to be a third wheel in their relationship. Whether it was consciously done or not; Alec had sandwiched himself between him and Max, and neither Alec nor Max were aware of the changing dynamics.
It was clear in the way the tension lines in Max's skin just fell away when Alec cracked one of his many lame jokes; the way she threw her head back in laughter when he did something purposefully idiotic just to see her laugh; the way he could make her smile that he himself could no longer do. It was no surprise therefore that he had felt so utterly relieved when he had heard of Alec's departure. Logan had been feeling Max slipping away day by day, and Alec's betrayal provided the rope for him to haul her back in.
He thought it would help them, but that hope had been much too futile.
Watching Max with her back to him, planning away with her family, was a far too apt metaphor for his liking.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
In the space of half an hour, Max had managed to put together three teams of six men. All had been informed of the situation and briefed on the mission. It was simple really: get inside the warehouse undetected; rescue all their people but most importantly do not engage in battle with the Familiars. The less blood shed the better.
Kitted out in her usual black, and armed with nothing but her hand to hand combat skills, Max ordered the teams out. Turning back to headquarters, she glanced at both Luke and Dix, who simply inclined their heads in return, "We'll be on the other side, if you need us."
Max nodded.
That left Logan, standing gravely silent against the wall.
She caught his steady gaze, and felt her heart pummel against her rib cage. She didn't have a clue what to say. She knew he didn't want her to go, but she knew that he knew there was no way she'd listen.
"Be careful," he said.
Max nodded before moving forward and hugging him tightly, "You too."
And then she turned around and left.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
It was an old dilapidated warehouse just inside sector six. The manufacture of the vaccine had had to be carried out in complete secrecy. The few within the government, who had proven to be unlikely allies, had helped in keeping the whole process underground; from devising the formula for the antidote to the Familiar's virus to the distribution and administration of the vaccines. If the public got wind of the transgenics' involvement, their own narrow mindedness would be the death of them. And so the role the transgenics were to play in saving the human race was to remain undisclosed to public eyes until the 'second coming' was well and truly over.
And hence the cover of the inconspicuous crumbling and abandoned remains of a furnishings factory. The camouflage, however, had not simply been for the benefit of the humans – it had been a tactical manoeuvre in protecting the vaccines from the hands of the Familiars. After all, White and his kind had slid seamlessly into the background of everyday life; occupying vital positions in the government. Clemente had vouched for most of the government officials in the know, but it was very possible that his hundred percent certain guarantee that they could all be trusted wasn't quite as hundred percent as they'd liked to have thought. They had a traitor in their midst, and the consequences could be critical.
Max was passionately hoping they wouldn't be.
Turning to look over her shoulder, she checked that all her men were in their assigned places – one team were to cover the exits, guiding any transgenics they managed to free, the remaining two were to infiltrate the building. And they were ready, awaiting her signal. But Logan's grim prediction rolled around gleefully in her mind, taking pleasure in the confusion it was wreaking – causing her to hesitate. Sounds like a trap, he'd said. But now there was no uncertainty in it; she knew that it was.
And yet, nodding her head, she gave the signal.
And in they went.
Dirty, cold and damp were perhaps the best words to describe the inside of the desolate building – not an ideal place to be creating what should be completely sterile vaccines but then they hadn't been left with very many choices.
Max and her team blended into the shadows with her second-in-command, Mole, leading in the second team from another entrance. She couldn't see them and she took that to be a good thing. Stealth was all they really had if this was going to be a successful rescue, but from the looks of things they had already lost a hefty percent off their potential success rate.
Old, poorly boarded up windows let in bursts of cold night air. The building was dark; scattered low wattage light bulbs dotted the large room, but the dim light together with their enhanced vision was enough to illuminate the horrific scene before them. There was blood and shattered glass everywhere. All the remaining stocks of the vaccines had been obliterated, and the equipment left in mangled and useless heaps on the floor. Max felt the bile rise in her throat as she caught sight of two bodies lying in a heap to one side of the large room. One was an obvious female, her brown hair covering her face, a hint of a barcode was peeping through on her exposed neck – and Max felt sick. They were too late.
She felt Dewy, an X5 male, beside her shift as he too realised the scene in front of them, "Shit," he swore.
Max would have echoed his sentiments except for the noisy arrival of a burly black haired man into the room. He was dragging a tied up ginger haired transgenic behind him, whilst talking passionately into a cell phone.
"Cam," Max whispered.
She watched in horror as he threw the girl against the wall. She crumpled in a heap on the floor, her hands and feet bound together.
"How long is this going to continue?" he said into the phone, as his hand grabbed on to the butt of a gun that sat in his back pocket. He lifted it out, and apparently satisfied with the answer from the other end of the phone line; he cocked his pistol aiming it straight at Cam's forehead.
And all Max saw was red; not thinking she burst forth out of the shadows, blurred across the room and knocked the gun out of the unsuspecting Familiar's hands. He turned on her, his punch meeting thin air as Max easily twirled out of the way.
"Damn it," Mole muttered under his breath, as he watched their fearless leader completely obliterate her own game plan, "Do not engage with the enemy, my scaly ass!"
The absence of the gunshot had alerted the other familiars in the building that something wasn't quite right, and not two seconds too soon, another half a dozen goons appeared. Signalling to his men, Mole lead them out, guns raised and ready for one heck of a fight.
Meanwhile, Max was left completely winded, as the familiar landed a punch square to her stomach. She reeled backwards; more pissed off than ever. He came at her again, this time aiming a punch at her face. Rolling to the side, she followed it up with a roundhouse kick that knocked him to his feet. Another kick sounded a satisfying crunch as she broke his jaw. He then looked up at her, and Max's blood ran cold; blood was dripping down the side of his face and yet he had a maniacal grin plastered firmly on his face. 'Of course,' Max grimaced, 'pain was a bloody phantom of the mind.' Whatever; she kicked him again.
The other transgenics weren't faring much better. Their opponents were like damn flies that refused to buzz off no matter how many times you whacked them.
"Why don't you just die?" Dewy muttered frustration clearly evident as he engaged in yet another tousle with a particularly resilient familiar. He was pretty sure, he'd broken his nose, jaw and arm, but the guy seemed to have a fetish for pain, "Whatever floats your boat," he shrugged as he delivered a lethal kick to his knees.
Mole cocked his gun, aiming it squarely at a familiar he had finally managed to subdue. If Max was paying attention, she would have told him to leave it. But then, he knew they'd be back and he didn't see any choice but to shoot; one less cult loony to worry about after all. He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot reverberated around the room, and Max found herself frozen to the spot.
Panic seared through her that it was one of her own, but the sight of Mole standing there with spattered familiar blood on his face didn't quell the bile rising in her throat. And neither did the sound of the following words that cut through the icy air like a knife;
"You shouldn't have done that."
Standing up straighter, Max watched as they found themselves surrounded by two dozen familiars. But that wasn't what made her silently tremble; they each had a transgenic in their grasps, guns placed firmly on their temples, and there in the centre stood a smug looking White.
"I knew you'd come 452, being the ever self sacrificing leader after all."
"What do you want?"
"I was just wandering how many more of you I'd have to kill before you did," he continued ignoring Max's question, "Shame you had to come so soon, I was having fun."
"Well you know me; I love to wreck a party."
"It won't work you know?" White said, moving forward, his hands toying with a silver pistol.
"What won't?" Max asked, feigning interest in the madman's ramblings.
"Thousands of years of evolution won't be halted by some plastic encased liquid antidote."
"And yet here you are," Max said snidely.
White grinned, "And here you are – predictable as ever."
"Predictable?" Max snorted in an unladylike fashion, "You really do know how to hurt a girl's feelings, don't you Ames?"
Now it was White's turn to laugh, "That would of course be assuming you were human 452."
"More human than you."
"Like I said, predictable."
Max rolled her eyes, "Can we just get on with this bitch, I've got stuff to do."
White placed the barrel of the gun under his chin, watching her intently. Oh how Max hoped he would pull the trigger.
He moved the gun back down. No such luck.
"Here's the deal 452. I let the rest of your kind go, in exchange for you."
"You know, I'm beginning to think you have a little thing for me Ames," Max sassed, "I'm flattered, I really am." Max walked up to him, predatory in her movements, her hips swaying as she moved forward. White's hand tightened around the gun. "But, I'm sorry; I just don't think it'd work between us. You know feline DNA, and slimy snake asses never really did mix well."
White's expression told her all she really needed to know concerning his ideas of associating himself with the likes of her. He didn't dignify the comment with a remark, his impatience growing by the second. "Clock's ticking 452, what's it going to be?"
Max had perhaps instinctively known on some level that this was a trap for her; and subconsciously she had already made up her mind the minute she had stepped into the foreboding building. When it came down to her and her people, the answer would forever be the same.
"How do I know you'll let my people go unharmed?"
"You don't," White grinned maliciously, "but you've run out of options, so . . ." He didn't finish the sentence; he didn't need to. Max already knew what his answer would be the minute the words had left her mouth.
Looking up, she looked at the faces of her fellow transgenics staring at her intently; ignoring the ugly sight of the barrels of guns pressing into their foreheads, Max sought the eyes of her most vociferous critic. Mole's expression gave her no clues; she was alone in her decision.
With an audible sigh, Max turned back to face White and opened her mouth. But the words she'd been preparing were wasted when the dulcet tones of another reverberated around the room.
"She's not going anywhere with you White."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
A/N 2: Rubs hands together evilly as dastardly plan forms perfectly in head. So I wonder just who exactly has come to spoil White's little party?
Well I hope you enjoyed it, please leave me a review to let me know what you thought. I live off feedback, so please don't leave me to starve – an "I hated it," or an "I'm still reading, keep going," is better than nothing! Cheers,
SmilinStar
xxx