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A/N : This is my first Dark Angel fic and my first story all together so please review!
I need to know if I should continue writing. No flames please, I would appreciate
constructive criticism. Well, sit back relax and enjoy. 

~When I Dream~ 

~*~*~*~ 

~Max's P.O.V.~ 

It's a rare occasion that I sleep and if course an even rarer occasion that I dream, but 
the times I actually do dream it isn't so bad.

I use to have awful flashbacks of Manticore, which is just one reason why I don't like 
sleeping. But when I was thirteen, I started to dream of a normal life, as normal as my 
life can get at least. Being what I am. 

In my dreams I would have a perfect life. I lived in an America without the pulse, my 
best friends Cindy and Kendra with me and my family. I figured before that if I would 
ever dream of a family with me, it would be my siblings, but in this world they weren't 
the only family I had. 

I had two children, twins, a boy and a girl. They didn't really look alike, especially 
if I remember their eyes correctly. The little girl looked like me, but with blue eyes, 
her father's eyes I guess. The little boy had my beautiful brown eyes, but seemed to 
look like the father I imagined for them.

My husband, well my dream husband. Tall, fine, built, but not too much, I'm not into that. 
He had blue eyes, very intelligent looking, and when I would wake up after dreaming of him 
and remember his smile, it would make my heart melt. 

Now why don't you take a turn and imagine, imagine my surprise when one night I break into 
some apartment to steal a statue, knock out a security guard and find myself face to face 
with my dream guy, thing is he had a gun pointed at me. 

The man I had dream about (when I did sleep) since I was about fifteen, finally had a name, 
Logan Cale. He looked the same in my dreams as he did in real life, from the blue eyes that 
our baby girl had to the heart-melting smile. 

In my dreams of course, I was not "genetically engineered" and my America never experienced 
the pulse and the Logan Cale in my dream never created Eyes Only, so the whole taking down 
bad guys thing in exchange for information about my siblings never occurred to me. 

I never saw my dream guy ending up in a wheelchair either, but that was a dream right? 

I'd never tell Logan that I dreamt of, and still do dream of him, that is if I dream, if I 
sleep. I wouldn't tell Kendra or Cindy either, they already thought he was my boyfriend, 
which he wasn't, but when I thought about it, which I shouldn't have, but I didn't think it 
would be that bad. He's cute, rich, and he can cook. 

One time, before I met Logan, Cindy and Kendra caught me sleeping, so when I woke up they 
asked me what I dreamt about. Apparently I was smiling, no surprise to me since I had dreamt 
my "perfect life" dream. 

They wanted me to describe my "husband" in full detail, so I did to the very best of my 
memory, which is really good of course, and they imagined him as well as I did. 

About a week after Cindy moved in, after Kendra moved out, I felt like taking a catnap. 
Cindy asked me if I dreamt about "him" again, which is how she and Kendra would refer to my 
dream husband. Since I did I told her so. 

Like I said, I never told Kendra or Cindy that I dreamt about Logan, that I did before I met 
him, but Cindy has a good memory too. I believe her exact words were, "I knew I'd seen your 
rich boyfriend somewhere before!" 

It's been five years since I met my dream guy. Four years since he found another doctor to 
help him walk after Lydecker shot the other one. Three years since Logan finally asked me 
out (he followed me up to the Space Needle). Two years since America finally pulled itself 
up after the pulse. And one year today since my "perfect life" dream came true. 

I now live in an America that seems like it's never seen the pulse. In a beautiful house 
just down the street from Cindy and Kendra's houses. With three-month-old twin babies. A 
brown-eyed baby boy, and a blue-eyed baby girl. Alexander and Amandah. Amandah's older by 
four minutes. And with my tall, dirty-blonde haired, blue-eyed husband, Logan. 

So that's my story Jace. I hope that you, Victor and your little Max are doing all right. 
Tell her, her Aunt Max, says happy fifth birthday for me. 

I miss you. Write back soon. 

Love, Max Guevara-Cale. 

~*~*~*~ The End ~*~*~*~