DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized.

A/N: It used to be tradition to post birthday fic on Logan's birthday, which in Blah Blah Woof Woof was shown to be 11/11/88 – but it's been so quiet in Max/Logan land, I see there wasn't anything posted for him this year. (I tried but just couldn't finish to post on time either!) So, late but no less heartfelt, this little fic is my birthday present for Logan Cale. Happy belated birthday, Loogie!

This story's setting: IT can be read as a stand alone, but is a scene from a S2 AU I'm playing with in another fic-in-progress here on FFN, Designation? What Designation?, which parallels the first episodes in the second season but without the damn virus – and includes an alternate way of bringing Manticore to its knees and setting up a more palatable place for transgenics than Terminal City. (Though there's sort of a recap here, the AU in Designation starts a few months after Max's "death," if you're curious.)

This scene is further into the AU chronology than Designation is currently, but maybe one day I'll catch up to this point...

Role Models

Since the FBI raid on Manticore some seven weeks before, countless agencies, politicos and consultants had been working overtime to try to figure out just what was to be done about the mess made by those running Project Manticore – the living, breathing "mess" – many of whom were articulate, sentient creatures whose lives were horror stories created in the name of a perverted patriotism. The lofty goals of better soldiers, better armies, better service had somehow been lost in the rows upon rows of prison cells containing human – and inhuman – "clinical trials." The program, left to its own devices for nearly two decades, stood not only as a prime example of science left to flourish in an environment devoid of ethical restraint, but as a moral dilemma of enormous proportions: the government had created more than one hundred living souls of varying intelligence, skills, and capacities, and had hidden them away from the world, keeping them for the most part ignorant of society's expectations and laws. Given the transgenics' general lack of knowledge about how to cope outside of Manticore's walls, about what was allowed and what illegal, they could no more be let loose on the streets – for both their own safety and the community's – than they could remain prisoners. So the question they all wrestled with, across the country, in the "other" Washington – what was to be done about transgenics created by Uncle Sam's own Doctors Frankenstein?

Few of those at the old veterans' hospital where they remained were privy even to the identities of all those weighing in on the debate, and none from Seattle were invited to attend. But when the dust began to settle, one of the first decisions made was to give the transgenics the hospital where they'd been kept locked up, its several acres and reasonably generous rein to requisition those things needed to set up a "transgenic city" while the finer points of reparations, education and relocation could be discussed. Even the most skeptical of them took it as a victory. Logan kept his thoughts of Native American reservations, and how those had worked out, to himself: at least for now it was an effort made to make things right...

With the announcement, the little community, with the makeshift "town counsel" that had developed and the fairly organized structure they had for passing information and sharing the ever increasing provisions, set about the business of making the old hospital their own little city, at least for the time being. They designated places for the community dining center, infirmary and information centers, though admittedly largely using what Manticore's people had set up, and got to work on updating them. They quickly added a couple bars, a movie theater and even a bowling alley, with the help of Logan's contacts and a little X-5 wheedling.

Logan had spend many of his waking hours on the hospital grounds since Max's return, at first simply to be near her and convince himself that she really was back, then from a sense of wanting to help her with what was important to her, to finally being swept up with the people and projects there, and the birth of this extraordinary new town. He'd found his niche in the technology center, where his long years of patching together randomly acquired, mismatched technology dovetailed well with the know-how of transgenics trained on state of the art equipment but baffled by how to repair rather than simply replace. With one thing leading to another, they managed to reconnect or, as needed, newly wire the place for internal video-audio communications, for internet, satellite, and teleservices, as well as install an enviable level of protection and surveillance technology. They were just now managing to obtain the hardware they needed to link the entire grounds, and Logan was the main source of creative ideas to incorporate seemingly incompatible equipment. Max had long before stopped feeling guilty about "dragging" him out there with her: he was having more fun with all the new "toys" Manticore had left behind, and the handful of techno-savvy transgenics, than she'd ever seen him have alone in his nest of computers.

One of the first projects Logan had tackled, though, was the very non-technical "debriefing" of the very first transgenic, Joshua. However, once the debrief had been completed, the pair continued meeting regularly, with Joshua's hunger to learn irresistible to Logan. They worked on language, on reading and writing; as time went on Logan added some current events to their discussions, as a bridge to the culture and customs of Seattle and the Pacific Northwest. As a painter, Joshua worked long hours washing down the old, dingy walls and repainting them in light, airy tones, then going back and adding distinctive, creative trim, colorful touches or sweeping murals which even Mole grudgingly admitted made the place theirs. But nearly daily the men would meet, maybe for only thirty or forty minutes, for a "lesson." Often it was just a session of Joshua's questions about "outside" and what they all would face, going on into Seattle and on past, as the X-5s and some of the more humanoid others had done already on short trips, with relative ease.

Joshua had been fascinated with Logan from the moment he'd met the man. He was used to ordinaries being wary of him, and Logan had been a little bit, too, at first, but not really much more than Max had been. He had a funny sound around him when he walked, which Max soon explained was the "exo" that let him walk. The idea of his disability intrigued Joshua – well aware of "differences" of the transgenics in their appearances and abilities, it hadn't occurred to him that ordinaries could be "different" too – none of the ordinaries with Manticore had been.

But along with his difference in walking, Logan was different than the others in many other ways. He was smart, and smart in ways that even the very smart transgenics were not. He was patient, and always listened with interest when Joshua spoke. He loved art and knew about painting; Max said he had very expensive paintings in his home, made by real artists. He could fix things and knew how a lot of things worked – he always said it was just the bad economy that made it necessary, but Joshua could see it gave Logan a sense of satisfaction to get his computers or other electronic things working – the same satisfaction he himself felt in finishing a good painting, or when he made an ugly room suddenly bright and calm with just some paint and his ideas about how to use it.

But even more than those things ... from the first time Joshua met Logan, he was intrigued with the man's demeanor – and even scent – around Max. And Max ... well, Max was different when Logan was with her. In tiny ways, she was different in every way: her voice was a little bit softer, a tiny bit more lilting and musical ... her eyes were warmer and sparkled with animation, with fun ... with happiness. It was more than only being free again, because while she was happier out of her cage than inside it, she was even more so when Logan was in the room ... her body temperature went up a little and Max smelled ... warmer. More alive.

So did Logan.

Joshua asked Mole, once, what it all meant. Mole was older than a lot of the other transgenics; he was nearly as old as Joshua, and had been out around more ordinaries than Joshua had been. He seemed pretty knowledgeable about a lot of their ways. But at Joshua's question, Mole had just snorted and rolled his eyes and muttered something about groping around in the dark, so Joshua had just continued to watch. And read. And join the others in watching television once they had that hooked up as well.

It took only a few shows before Joshua got it. But he never did see anything on TV that was quite as complex – or quite as compelling, if he was honest with himself – as the daily, subtle interplay between Max and Logan...

It had been just another Wednesday, and after painting one of the front halls in the massive old building, Joshua came up to the large, central room where Logan and a couple of the others were sorting through the additional computer components, used and new, that they had recently acquired both from government shipments and their own, less official procurement methods. Since the order had some down, granting the place to the transgenics, they'd all been working around the clock to make it their own, and Joshua's lessons had been fit into their lunch breaks three days a week, and other, varied times on other days. Usually the others wandered down to the mess hall to eat, leaving the student and tutor alone. As he often did, Joshua brought lunch for them both, the dining hall staff now aware of why Joshua asked for two lunches "to go." Today's lunch of chili and cornbread – the latter a recipe from Logan's neighbor, no less – warmed the big man's hands as he entered the communications room. He found his mentor in his wheelchair this time, intently soldering some loose wires onto a perforated plate held firmly in his other hand. He looked up to see the shaggy head dip with a smile of greeting.

"Hey Joshua – lunchtime already?"

"Logan always say that," Joshua grinned.

"Yeah – time flies when you're warm and dry and playing with toys," Logan said with his own, answering grin, and he finished the wire he was soldering and put his things down carefully. Grabbing a rag to wipe off his hands, he deftly backed up, pivoted and crossed the room quickly to their usual bench, where Joshua was setting down their steaming bowls of chili.

"Wow – smells good," Logan murmured, fishing out the napkin-rolled silverware and handing one to Joshua.

Joshua looked at his friend, noting Logan's expression of simple, satisfied happiness, and thought about how the man who had looked so pale and disoriented when they met, still stunned with Max's return from the dead, seemed so settled now, there among all of them. He was clearly pleased to be working on restoring the broken equipment, and was happiest when he could be of help. Of course, he wasn't always this way. Joshua had certainly seen him wound up and ready for a fight – mostly about Manticore, and what was to happen to them all, as well as a couple other things that Max called "work-related" – but the man who used to walk but now couldn't, a man who easily could stay out with the ordinaries but seemed to want to be with all of them as they build their new community, just seemed to radiate a contentment and calm that Joshua hadn't ever seen in anyone else.

Joshua knew that the reason Logan had been accepted as he'd been, the only ordinary who was considered one of them, was this part of Logan. It wasn't just that he was Max's partner – her lover, Joshua again considered the word he'd only recently learned fully – and that Max was one of the leaders here. It was Logan's contentment in their world, his clear joy at being a part of them. Even Mole and Alec couldn't deny his dedication or deny him a place in their community. Logan was one of them. One of the best of them....

As they started spooning into the steaming chili, Joshua had just nodded in response to Logan's question about the newspaper he'd given him yesterday, and had started asking about one of the articles he didn't understand. He heard the nearing sounds first, of course; he heard better than most of the transgenics so of course could hear sooner than Logan. His olfactory sense was even more acute, and Max's scent identified her to Joshua before the light, quick pattern of her boots on the steps and in the hall did. But in only moments, Max appeared in the doorway then stopped, anguish on her pretty face. "Logan," she began, in a voice full of regret and pain. Joshua felt a stab of fear as to what it could mean. "Logan ..."

Max had stood, wavering, in the door, as if afraid to come closer and face whatever had happened. The cold fear gripping him, Joshua turned to his friend, wondering what could have upset Max so much. But to his complete, utter surprise, Logan's face had softened into a small, amused grin, watching Max at the doorway.

Joshua looked back at Max, dumbfounded, wondering how she'd take his response. She simply looked more apologetic and glided gracefully into the room, head bowed, almost as if in a surrender of sorts. Joshua cocked his head to the side, just watching now in confusion.

"Logan, why didn't you say something?" Max came close and timidly reached for Logan's hand, which took hers warmly as his smile widened for her. "I'm such a jerk..."

"Not you." He forgave her whatever it was, and Joshua saw Max slip into Logan's lap and into his arms, coming around her to hold her close.

As he kissed the top of her head, Max said "and out here, I can't even run out and grab some quick present and pretend I remembered what day it was..."

"Max ... it's not important..." he murmured, his grin not fading.

"Yes it is – at least for cake," she insisted.

Logan chuckled warmly in that sound that Joshua heard from him only when Max was near, with him, and happened to look up to see Joshua's worried, confused expression as he unabashedly gaped at the pair. With another, wry grin, he kissed Max's forehead again and suggested gently, "I think you've gotten Joshua worried that you committed some heinous crime..."

Max turned in Logan's lap and looked at him, almost unnoticed before in her guilt. "Oh – hey, Big Fellah. Sorry to just barge in..."

"Little Fellah okay? Not 'committed some heinous crime?'" he mimicked perfectly.

"No – well, yeah, I did ..." she turned back to Logan as she spoke, "but I think Logan is gonna let me off the hook..." Looking at the shaggy man's still confused expression, she explained, "it's Logan's birthday today, Joshua, and – I forgot. I lost track of the date, and with everything going on, I just ... forgot."

Logan shook it away. "I got the best gift anyone could get about seven weeks ago, when you came back home. Nothing could top that."

"Cake might," she pouted a little.

"Well, okay, maybe a good cake..." he smiled for her and added, "but you thought of it and it's not even noon. We have time. Maybe we can even make one tonight, ourselves..."

Max's sly smile let Joshua know she felt much better than when she'd come in, that she knew Logan forgave her. Maybe she saw how happy he was, too. "Promise?" she asked. Even Joshua knew that sound now from Max, the one she used only for Logan – it meant she wasn't really asking – just sort of ... teasing. Asking about going home together.

"Promise." Logan answered just as Joshua knew he would. That sound she made always made Logan smile, and his smile made Max smile. Joshua watched, as always, riveted by the interplay, and saw it happen, just as always. And as always ... they kissed. Not long, because they weren't alone, but sweetly – happily.

Max broke the contact and, with a guilty glance to Joshua, got up and straightened her clothes a little. "Sorry I interrupted," she said to him, then glanced back to Logan, too. "I'll let you boys get back to it."

"Okay," Logan chuckled, his cheeks glowing, and he watched Max leave. Joshua watched him watching her. "Sorry," he added for Joshua, too. "Where were we?"

******

Logan had looked back to the text in front of him, and shook his thoughts back to the lesson he'd planned, remembering their discussion before Max came in. "Okay, Joshua, you said you were looking at yesterday's paper and you saw something you wanted to ask about?" He looked back up to see an unusually thoughtful expression on the canine features, and his eyebrows went up in question. "What?"

Joshua continued to look at him, clearly trying to work something out, maybe even what he wanted to ask. But as usual, Logan waited, his expression one of endless patience with his eager student, and Joshua finally tried, "today Logan's birthday." Logan smiled slightly and nodded. At that, he added, "Max forgot."

Logan chuckled softly and his smile was warm as he shrugged. "Yeah, but there's been so much going on. It's no big deal."

Joshua looked unconvinced. "Max looked like very big deal."

Logan shrugged again, but his small smile quirked up a bit in affection. "Nah, birthdays are mostly for kids' celebration ... or sometimes a big one is celebrated, you know – a big number, like fifty or thirty or seventy ... or important ones, like turning 'legal' at twenty one. And some people worry more about them than others..."

"But Logan not worry?" Logan smirked and shook his head, and Joshua pressed, "birthday number not a 'big one' today?"

Logan grinned. "Nope. Thirty two. Not big at all."

Joshua thought for a moment, then pressed, "but Max very upset when she remember – when she knew she forgot. No present, she say."

Logan thought back about the exchange Joshua had observed, and he smiled again fondly as he remembered Max's reaction. "Oh – well, yeah..." He drew a breath to collect his thoughts for a more thorough explanation. "Birthdays also can be important for people who are important to each other – families, friends..."

"Lovers?"

Logan's smile lightened his eyes at Joshua's use of the term they had now defined for him. "Lovers, especially, sometimes," he agreed. "It presents a challenge to the non-birthday partner of what to do to make the other partner happy, or surprise them, or do something special..."

"But not forget." Joshua nodded, now understanding Max's self-directed disappointment.

"It's not a big deal, Joshua – with everything going on..."

"And Max is 'present enough,'" Joshua quoted Logan's words from before.

Logan laughed softly, the sound warm and affectionate with thoughts of Max still lingering, musing at Joshua's quote as he remembered how seriously he'd meant his words. "Oh, yeah," he murmured. He was quiet a moment, then added, "I thought she had died, Joshua – she did die, in my arms. When she showed up later ..." His eyes focused on a time in his painful past, and his voice took on a slightly different sound as he did, Joshua noticed. The big man remained quiet as Logan looked back at that time for another few moments before shaking free to meet his eyes again, the sign of very powerful, very moving memories. "Every day I've had with her since then – that's present enough."

Joshua nodded and let Logan direct him back to the newspaper story he'd been asking about before Max came in. But what he'd seen these past weeks between the two, what he was learning about the culture he'd only glimpsed as a child ... he knew that Logan's birthday was important. To Max ... to him, because of all Logan had taught him and the kindness he had shown ... to all the transgenics.

Logan's birthday was important. And it would be a ... a "challenge," as Logan had said, to him too, until he found a way to surprise him with something special...

******

To be continued...?