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Author's Note: I've wanted to do something like this for a while now. Thanks to school I haven't had time to even work on my originals, so to warm myself back up, I'm gonna work on some fan fiction, to get my style working again. Also, I've been re-watching some Dark Angel episodes, so I thought, what better…than to try my hand at some Dark Angel Fan Fiction? Enjoy.


Black Out
Prologue

As usual, Normal didn't hesitate to throw a brown wrapped box at Max and yell an address to her, his usual technique at assigning jobs to his oh-so enthusiastic employees. Thanks to Alec's nature of womanizing and his wish to keep his…male parts, he'd been forced by his own will to accompany Max on her run. The package was to be delivered to an office in a not so grimy sector of Seattle. In fact, this sector was one of the better ones. The streets were somewhat cleaner, and the buildings were higher and kept more intact, where the swank offices were located. It was entertaining to see the nicer side to things.

"See why couldn't Normal have his office on this sunny side of town?" Alec thought aloud in a wry tone.

Max didn't reply to him, and he didn't expect her to. They found the building they'd been searching for and found their way inside. Asking the lady at the front desk who to drop the package off too, she informed them that they were not to drop it off there. They would have to take the elevator to the eighth floor and deliver the package personally to the recipient. On their way through the halls, Alec scanned the walls: possible entries, possible exits, stations in which guards stood. His thoughts were interrupted with a swift smack to the back of the head.

"Stop casing the place!" Max scorned him in a hiss.

"What?" he defended. "It's not like there's anything here to steal anyway." Such a lousy defense.

They found the elevator and proceeded to the eighth floor. This floor, once they arrived there, was full of cubicles. It was silent aside of the subtle hum of voices and casual work discourse. Max pulled aside one of the employees, who was professionally dressed in a white shirt, tie, and dark brown pants. The professional air made Alec cringe. "Where can I find Spencer Katherine?" Max inquired, looking down at the package for name reference.

He pointed them into the general direction. "Cubicle 36."

"Such a comfortable atmosphere, don't you think?" Alec commented sarcastically as they counted their way down the aisle to "Cubicle 36".

"Just imagine – riding a bike in a skirt," Max caught a glimpse of the women walking around in fancy blouses and black knee-length skirts. The place reminded her a little too much of Manticore, each man wearing just about the same thing, and the women as well, accept they had an assortment of blouses with frills and buttons, instead of geometrically deficient ties.

Once at "Cubicle 36" Max mentally slapped herself at the idea of numbering cubicles. How ridiculous. Rather than knocking, considering there was no door, she said, "Knock, knock." Peeking inside, she noticed that it was empty. She was ready to turn away and let that be it, but the prominent sound of high heels coming in her direction grabbed her attention.

"Can I help you?" Alec and Max both turned (and Alec's jaw dropped). A woman stood, about Max's own height, even without the heels. She stood clad in "uniform" like the others, but had a certain unnamable quality about her that managed to individualize her image. Her brown locks were pulled back into a rather messy bun. Not one of those lame intentional messy buns, but one that was possibly neat this morning. But after five hours of stressful office work your hair tends to be the last priority compared to thirty minutes of refilling the paper trays in the dinosaur printer at the end of the aisle.

"I'm looking for a Spencer Katherine," Max asked as Alec's brow furrowed in interest. He gave her a thorough casing, beginning at her toes, admiring her nice figure, and then giving her a smirk as he caught sight of her pretty face.

"That's me." She turned into the infamous cubicle and began to search for a pen.

"I've got a package from Jam Pony for you; please sign here." As procedure permitted, Max handed Spencer the clipboard. Spencer Katherine scribbled something close to a signature onto the paper and took the package from Max's hands. "Thank you," and without a second thought, Max turned away.

"That was a sight to see," Alec stated slyly, that same smirk still upon his ever so confident countenance.

"You're disgusting," Max spat. She found it absurd how he, with such a round conscience, he practiced the various...activities of a womanizer. He was a constant flirt (he even flirted with Max), he dated more than one girl at once, and he had quite an interest in studying anatomy.

This was Max's last run of the day. She would return to Jam Pony, raid her locker of what she needed, and then she'd head home and draw a nice warm bath. Mostly likely, Alec had plans of going home, freshening up, and then scout out Crash for tonight's bed buddy. Once they stepped outside of the building and the warm humidity hit Max's skin, she headed for her bike, and was eager to be on her way.

This was until she heard a loud and treacherous scream. It came from an alleyway not too far away, connected to the very building they had just left. Out of instinct, Max jumped off her bike and dashed down the alleyway. But instead of the screaming, she now heard grunting sounds, of someone getting hurt. Then she saw exactly what was happening. A woman stood in the corner of the alley, her purse clutched to her chest as she stared at the occurring incident in pure fright. Max followed the petrified woman's gaze unto a man in black, in lack of a better term, having his butt handed to him on a silver platter.

But what was stunning to Max, was that the oppressor was none other than…Spencer Katherine? The very recipient she'd just delivered a package to. At first, she thought nothing of it.

Spencer was at the right place in the right time and just happened to know how to defend herself and she'd taken upon herself to protect this kind, elderly lady. She heard Alec behind her. "Damn…"

The man in black threw weak and aimless punches at Spencer, trying to have the upper hand. But all too easily, she would counter his attacks with one of her own, one that executed enough force to send him flying backwards. Her speed was efficient, and so were her attacks.

But the two weren't prepared for the sight they saw next. In an act of desperation, the man in black pulled out what looked like…a gun. He ran his hand through his dirty auburn hair as he shifted on his heels.

"Stop moving!" he yelled in a nervous demeanor.

As quickly as Spencer had jumped on him, she froze. But too quick for human eyes, the robber found Spencer behind him quicker than an instant. With a swift kick to the back of the head, he fell to the ground, his gun falling from his hands.

Max stood frozen in astonishment. At first, things were almost normal. A woman was defending an elderly by taking out this degenerate with a gun. But her skills were far too advanced for a…regular human. And when Spencer appeared behind the man, too quick for him to register, and she took him out, Max realized that this wasn't normal at all. Spencer's eyes shot to both Alec and Max, her face resembling too much like stone to interpret what exactly she was feeling. Anger? Fright of exposure? Anxiety? Before Max could question her, or even think of something to say, Spencer turned, and bolted, practicing quite the athleticism of a transgenic as she made her escape.


Author's Note: I know it's short, but it's a prologue. My chapters usually are...wayyy longer. Haha. It's my first Dark Angel FF so go easy on me. But I'm dying to know, how can I make it better? Be brutally honest, but in a polite demeanor...

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