"Damage Control" (Part Four, fic), Dark Angel, Logan/Alec, Sketchy

[tallisen]

Title: Damage Control, Part Four (Part of my a/u Logan/Alec universe)
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing, Characters: Logan/Alec, Sketchy
Rating: PG (minor language)
Summary: What seemed like an easy task at first turns into an extremely difficult one. Alec realizes he has to come up with a solution on his own, and that any misstep can have grave consequences.
A/N: What started as pure and simple smut between two very gorgeous men, has become a gradually building full-on plot-riddled fanfic. I certainly can promise the boys will continue to smother each other with pleasantries (both in bed and out) but they're also going to be facing a lot more as their relationship grows and tensions rise throughout the city.

This one isn't quite as long as the last two, but it's an open door for the following pieces that I'm already cooking up. I hope all who read it will enjoy! Comments are greatly appreciated. :)



Alec rolled onto his back and inhaled the familiar scent of Logan; he was surrounded by it. He grinned lazily and hugged the pillow he’d been sleeping on. Now that was a great way to wake up.

Once his nose grew accustomed to his immediate surroundings, he became distinctly aware of two things; one, the lack of Logan himself and two, the faint tantalizing smell of fried eggs.

Alec could have slept longer; he vaguely remembered waking twice before, but his stomach was throwing a fit, and he didn’t care to lie around and listen to it.

Drudgingly he pulled himself out of bed and searched for something comfortable to wear. His jeans and socks had vanished over the night (he suspected Logan had taken them to the wash) and he didn’t feel like dragging a blanket around the apartment. Finally he settled for blue and grey sweats.

Barefooted he padded out of the bedroom and sought the source of the delicious aromas.

Peering into the kitchen he found Logan slaving away over his stove, stirring a large black pot. Alec’s approach was masked by the sizzling of eggs (and on closer examination- potatoes).

He swooped in behind Logan and crossed his arms over his chest. The older man jumped with surprise and moaned under the pampering kisses Alec rained across the back of his neck.

“Good morning.” Alec murmured, smiling against the crook of Logan’s neck. “What time is it?”

“Nearly six.” Logan replied, leaning back to milk more kisses from his lover. “You slept like a rock.”

“Six PM?” Alec was more interested in the food than anything else. Concerned it wasn’t getting enough attention, he steered Logan’s hand back to the pot and made him stir the concoction.

Logan submitted with a chuckle and leaned into Alec’s warm embrace.

“Max called earlier.”

Alec continued stirring both Logan’s hand and the spoon it was clutching, unfazed by the news.

“She told me you’d been drugged,” Logan continued, “I figure that’s why you slept so long.”

Alec shrugged against him. “It could be. Or it could be the work of a really nice mattress. I can never,” He paused to kiss Logan’s neck again, “Say no to a high thread count.”

Logan lifted the pot off the stove and walked it away from Alec, transferring its contents to awaiting plates on the counter.

“What else did she say?” Alec prodded, turning the top burner off.

“Apparently Normal is baking you a cake, and Sketchy is asking a lot of questions.”

Alec frowned at the counter for a moment before he turned to find Logan presenting him with a plate.

“I forgot about Sketch.” Alec told his food, unable to tear his eyes away from a warm meal. He spooned a good deal up and ate it while he followed Logan to the dining room.

“He’s going on about you being abducted by the government, and he won’t listen to Max.”

“Huh.”

Logan sat at the table, but Alec remained standing with his plate resting on his wrapped hand.

“Suppose I should talk to him.” Alec said after another mouthful of potatoes and eggs. “He did see White’s goons.”

“She also said you lost your sector pass.”

Alec looked up from his meal, trying to gauge Logan’s expression. It was painfully neutral. Alec appreciated him keeping his cool. Logan tended to worry a lot.

“But no one showed up.” It was a statement, though it also posed as an inquiry.

Logan set his spoon beside his plate. “No they haven’t.”

“Then a bum’s got it.” Alec added. He’d nearly cleaned his plate off. Logan was a good cook and his stomach had settled into agreement. “Still, I’ll go talk to Sketchy- he’s probably at Crash.”

“I’m not going to argue, because I know you’re a stubborn ass.” Logan said with a sigh. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

He pushed away from the table and approached Alec; pausing only a step away. He reached into his pocket and pulled a key from it.

Alec stared at it for a moment, confused. It looked like Max’s bike key, but it wasn’t.

Logan twirled it between his index finger and thumb, a teasing smile playing across his face. “I got you a present.”

Alec reached for it, and frowned when Logan pulled away. “What gives?”

“Think of it as incentive.” The older man said, still smiling. “Until you get a new sector pass, you make double sure not to get captured. And then you can have your present.”

Alec smirked, impressed by how deviant his boyfriend was. “You’ve certainly kept yourself busy.”

Logan tucked the key back into his pants and returned to his meal. “Be safe Alec.”

“Of course.”

Thinking of his incentive, Alec retraced his steps to Logan’s bedroom and the dresser he’d invaded earlier. A corner of the top drawer housed a handful of his own shirts and a pair of clean jeans. He’d have to look more like himself and less like a whipped boy-toy if he was planning on going out.

Logan reappeared in the doorway as Alec finished tugging on his pants- it’d been fun with the constricting wrap on his left hand. Alec noticed the man’s attention was on it as well. Self consciously he tugged at the sleeve of his shirt.

“You should have that looked at.”

Alec grabbed a pair of socks and shoes and began to slip his feet into them. “No offense Logan, but no doctor is going to have experience dealing with genetically altered super soldiers, let alone breaks and fractures that arise from their fights.”

“Doctor Carr is the best chance you’ve got in both of those cases.” Logan was as he always appeared a persistent pain in the ass.

Alec realized it was pointless to argue, so he sought a quick fix. “How about I see him tomorrow before work then?”

“How about now?” Logan amended, looking Alec over with an appraising eye. “He’s got a 24 hour clinic. You see him now, and then see Sketchy.”

“Man,” Alec’s voice held an edge of irritation. He wanted to do things his way, but he was having a hard time with Logan walking all over his plans.

“Fine,” Alec said, adding an exasperated sigh for good measure. “But this better not take all night.”

Logan handed him a small slip of paper that held directions. Alec had never been there before.

“Remember,” He added as Alec brushed past him into the hallway. “For all your hard work you’ll get a nice present.”

Alec glanced over his shoulder as he went, catching the glint of light on the key in Logan’s hand. A slow smile reached his face and he made sure Logan saw it.

“I’m not half as interested in that as I am with your fine ass.”

He didn’t have to look to see the heavy blush that crossed the older man’s cheeks- it was a given after all.

Still grinning smugly, Alec left Logan to the apartment and headed for the awaiting night.

- - -

Sketchy was at Crash, unsurprisingly, since his only excursion to another club had ended quite badly. He was parked at the bar with a Polaroid camera to his left and a glass of scotch directly in front, which he nursed between his hands. His attention was riveted to something directly beneath the drink, that Alec could only guess from the distance he was at, to be a magazine of some sort.

Alec scanned the usual scene of bikers, bone weary construction workers and everyone else that fell into the miscellaneous category; searching for familiar faces. Max wasn’t on sight, though he keenly spotted Original Cindy flirting her way to the bottom of a mixed drink with a fine looking blonde in company.

Satisfied he wouldn’t have Max’s gaze burning a hole in his back, Alec bobbed and weaved through the flow of Crash’s customers and saddled up on a stool beside Sketchy.

“Hey man,” Alec said, keeping his tone casual. “What’s with the long face?”

Understandably his sudden appearance shocked Sketchy enough to make him jump and spill some of his drink over the article he’d been reading: ‘Government Created Super Soldiers’. Alec raised his eyebrows at it.

“Shit man!” Sketchy didn’t seem to notice the mess he’d made. His attention for the moment anyway was on Alec. His gaze swept all over his friend, finally landing on the fresh cast peaking from beneath the sleeve of Alec’s shirt. “Where have you been?”

Alec shrugged, trying to ignore the odd twist his stomach made. He hadn’t realized Sketchy cared that much. “I just had something come up - family matters that needed to be attended to. Sorry I didn’t leave any notice, I didn’t have the time to.”

Sketchy stared at him long and hard, his expression torn between relief and noticeable suspicion. Finally he seemed to remember what he’d been reading, and he turned to procure the magazine from beneath his cup.

“Alec, man.” Sketchy shook the loose scotch off onto the floor and fanned the sticky pages. “You’re saying family matters popped up at two in the morning in the alley behind a bar?”

Wincing inwardly but keeping his calm exterior, Alec shrugged again and gave his friend a look of sympathy. “I’m flattered you were worried Sketch, truly flattered.” He patted his chest to emphasize. “But there’s nothing else to it.”

“Were those dudes who attacked you some of your ‘family’?” Sketchy asked stiffly. He was staring at Alec again, but he’d blown past suspicion and was showing sure signs of accusation.

“Yeah,” Alec scrubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to ease his nerves, and quickly signaled the bartender for a shot of whiskey. “My cousins are a riot. They don’t like doing things the conventional way, y’know. So they decided to jump me and take me by surprise.”

Sketchy eyed the offending cast again, as if debating whether to push for more. While he did, Alec grabbed the shot he’d been given and downed it. It warmed him considerably, and he quickly asked for another.

“Alec,” Sketchy drew his attention back as he leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You don’t have to lie to me man. I know what I saw. It was just like what the magazines have been saying.”

Alec scanned the front cover that Sketchy presented to him. There was a blurry snapshot of Joshua - one he’d become used to seeing in the media. Thankfully it was accepted as a hoax by most and downgraded to tabloids, but it wasn’t very smart for a transgenic to talk about it or for that matter wave the article around with White’s men scouring the city.

Alec glared at the picture a moment more then turned away and took a second shot. “Please don’t tell me you’re serious about that stuff. It’s a load of science fiction bullshit.”

Sketchy shook his head vehemently. “I’ve been doing the math. This stuff all started about six months ago, and that was around the same time you showed up at Jam Pony.”

A chill ran down Alec’s spine that made the hair rise on the back of his neck. He was all too aware of his barcode; covered as it was, a mere foot from someone he had up till that point taken to be anything but a threat. It took every ounce of Manticore training to hold his ground.

Alec snorted, gesturing at Joshua’s obvious canines and long frazzled hair. “You think I’m that ugly? I’m hurt.”

“No,” Sketchy replied, quickly thumbing to the cover article. “It says here,” He forced the magazine into Alec’s hands. “That there were different types of soldiers. Some of them were freaks like that dog guy, but there were ones they made to fit in. You can’t do espionage if your men are gonna look like that.”

Alec didn’t bother looking at the magazine. He tossed it on the counter beside Sketchy’s drink. He was fighting to remain calm but found it difficult with his good friend accusing him of being exactly who he was. How the hell did Sketchy out of all people figure it out?

He let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed his good hand across his eyes. “Look man, I’m no government agent. Do you think if I was I’d be working at Jam Pony?”

Sketchy was unfazed. “You would be if the government was trying to get you back. The training place was fried, wasn’t it? All the trained soldiers escaped six months ago, and now the government is trying to cover up their secrets.”

Alec sat back, giving Sketchy a look of disbelief. In a way he was shocked, but not by what others would peg paranoia (it was true after all), but in just how much Sketchy was hitting the nail with a hammer.

“You have way too much time on your hands.” Alec stood and placed a handful of bills on the bar counter. “I just wanted to stop by and check in, okay? You shouldn’t buy into that crap. No one believes it, and no one will believe you either.”

A look of hurt crossed Sketchy’s eyes. “Hey all I was…”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“How are you gonna get home?”

Startled by the question, Alec turned back. Sketchy waved a sector pass at him. His sector pass. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or worried by its sudden reappearance.

“You dropped this when you were fighting with your cousins.” Sketchy said dead-panned. Alec eyed the pass, hesitant to take it. “You’ve got to tell me how you get passed armed guards without it.” Accusation shined bright in his friend’s eyes.

Finally Alec snagged the badge and stuffed it into his pants pocket. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He could feel Sketchy’s gaze follow him through the crowded bar. It was unsettling and more than a little troubling. He saw Original Cindy cast a worried look his way, but he ignored it and pressed on.

Once outside he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and pulled his shirt collar higher. The last thing he needed was Sketchy snooping around and accusing him of being a transgenic. But how the hell was he going to dissuade him from believing it? By all accounts he had his facts straight and a simple call to the tabloids would ruin Alec for good.

Max’s name wasn’t in the mix. She was lucky to have been left out; understandably since she’d escaped ten years earlier, but if attention was drawn to Alec and Jam Pony, she’d undoubtedly be flushed out by the public’s scrutinizing eye.

Alec hated feeling vulnerable. He hated not knowing his future, and he hated even more that Sketchy, a person he considered a good and loyal friend would be putting him in that position. What was Alec supposed to do?

All hopes of having a relaxing night with Logan were dashed at the onslaught of troubling scenarios playing through his head. He balled his hands into fists and began the long trek back to his home. He couldn’t possibly deal with another distraction until he had the current one under control, and that meant blowing Logan off for the time being.

He just needed to decide how to deal with it. What would it take to make Sketchy shut up? Could he trust his secret with him? And better yet, would Max find out the magnitude of his dilemma? The thought of incurring more of Max’s wrath was anything but satisfying. He was pretty sure she’d make him rue the day he met her.

Whatever he decided, he realized it would be all on his shoulders; no one else’s. And as long as he played his cards right, the only person that would get the heat if it went south would be him. He was damned sure of it.

Still troubling over the best course of action, Alec welcomed the night, using the darkness it brought with it to guard his path home; ever aware that the world was conspiring against him.