DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel characters, lines and situations borrowed; no profits made. The opening lines of this story are dialogue from the end of the Season 1 episode, "Cold Comfort." I have probably taken liberties with when that episode would have taken place, but hope you'll bear with me. It's just for a teeny bit of tie in to the holidays; ignore it if you're a purist!

Christmas at Christmas Challenge '09: a Gift for Latenightrain

A/N: Poor LNR, getting me as Santa twice in a row, and this time I'm late. Mega-apologies for both! LNR's wish list was:

1) The Aztek

2) Jam Pony

3) A message delivered in an unusual way

4) A line delivered in a language other than English ( with translation!)

...and the only thing she asked to avoid was the virus (no problem there!)

Merry Christmas and late holiday cheer to Latenightrain and everyone!

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Secret Santa

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November 17, 2019

Max had been back at his place for almost ninety minutes and she hadn't been herself. She had told him what had happened with Brin, but it had been more of a debriefing than a conversation, and Logan recognized that the distance she put between the events she reported to him and her own feelings about it all was her only means of holding it together. To lose not one sibling but two in a matter of hours would be hard for anyone, but for Max, who had spent the last decade, her entire existence outside of Manticore, searching for them – it must be devastating.

She was at the window, watching the rain. After puttering around in the kitchen some more, inventing work so she could have some more time alone with her thoughts, Logan finally joined her.

"You're not going to make me eat dinner all by myself, are you?" Food, gently offered – it was the only thing he had at the moment that might make her feel at least a bit better physically, if not emotionally.

But clearly her head was still back in those last hours. Her next words, an admission that she was second and third guessing herself, spoke volumes of how deeply this had gotten to her. "Do you think we did the right thing, Logan, by letting him take her back there?"

He was surprised to see that she wasn't just asking herself that now, but really wanted his thoughts, and wanted the truth from him, not merely a comforting lie. His response was an easy one, the one he believed from the moment he'd heard what happened. "You took her out of a bad situation, and you let her choose for herself." It was the choice he always prayed for if Manticore ever caught up with her, rather than her professed preference for death over captivity. No matter how difficult, you can always escape from captivity, he knew. But from death ... not an option.

"Yeah, I guess," she sighed.

"How'd you leave it with Zack?" Maybe her second connection with Zack had been better than the first, although the man's apparent habit of showing up, making demands, then leaving her in the lurch didn't say much about his own 'family values' and his regard for his doting sister...

"He grunted something that sounded like goodbye and then disappeared into the night."

"Well, you should cut him some slack," Logan offered her a tiny, hopeful smile. "He probably had a rotten childhood."

To his relief, Max rolled her eyes and smirked at his words. Warming up to his efforts, she added, "worst part is he swung with Lydecker's ride. Tinted windows, class two armor...I could have fenced it for a fortune. He probably drove it off a bridge into the water somewhere so it couldn't be dusted for prints." She had quieted a little after her first words, her worry for her brother still in her thoughts. "He obsesses," she murmured in an afterthought, trying to keep the lightness in her attitude. It wasn't too convincing.

"You need to be more careful yourself, you know." With her worry for Zack, Logan couldn't help himself from using the moment to offer his own warning for her. "'cause now Lydecker knows what you look like."

Her response was only a shrug as she turned back to stare out the window, but Logan saw that her brow darkened a bit as she considered his words. Looking at her closely now, as she stared off into the rain, his own last conversation with Zack played in his head:

"You really worried about Max?" Zack had pressed. "The biggest threat to her safety is you."

Logan hadn't wanted to ask, and really hadn't wanted to play right into Zack's verbal snare – but with that accusation, he had no choice. His one saving grace was that he'd managed to keep his features schooled and his voice level. "How do you figure?" he'd asked.

"She should have gotten the hell out of Seattle a long time ago," Zack spat. "She knows it's not safe here, but she stayed anyway, because of you. She ignored her training and let her judgment be clouded by feelings and emotions. And one day it's going to get her killed."

It was clear that Zack had been going for effect, and the words flung at him accusatively had indeed stuck with him – but not only for the effect Zack had sought.

"She stayed anyway, because of you."

It had echoed in his thoughts, riddled him with guilt as he worried for her, knowing she was facing off Lydecker ... but wrapped him in wonder once he heard she was safe.

"She stayed anyway. Because of you..."

He shook off his fantasies and spoke. "Max..." His voice was quiet and was filled with such heaviness it brought her eyes back to his. "How safe is it for you to stay here, now that Lydecker knows you're in Seattle? He probably even has several photos of you now he can distribute."

"You sound like Zack," she mused. But in the next moment, seeing his reaction to that, Max's eyebrows went up as she realized, "Zack said something to you, didn't he, about me needing to leave town? Damn it, we talked about this last time he was here! I told him this was my home and I'm tired of running – I'm not going to let Lydecker run me off again." She allowed herself to feel anger at Zack, firmly convinced that her brother was safe and would eventually reappear again in her life, even if it would be to try goading her again into leaving. "I can't believe he'd try to enlist your help in getting me to leave," she muttered.

"Zack knows Lydecker as well as you do, Max – and if he thinks you're in danger here, maybe you should consider it," Logan urged. "Even if it was temporary, maybe six months or so..."

His tone cut through her thoughts about Zack, and Max looked up at Logan for several long moments, as if trying to read his thoughts. When her gaze finally softened, a tiny bit of a smile curled up at the corner of her mouth. He wore that expression she had seen from him now with some frequency, that sober, sincere, intense look of concern for her safety. So different from the player who fed me that bull in front of that big, antique mirror he used to have, she reflected, barely wondering anymore where it had gone. "If ... and only if ... I see any indication that Don or his troops are still around, I'll give it some thought. Some serious thought," she added over the breath he drew to protest.

Logan paused, trying to look disapproving at her outright refusal to leave, which wasn't easy given the rush of relief he felt to know that she wanted to stay put. Deciding not to insist – then feeling guilty at his failure to do so – he sounded almost formal in his effort to not show his reaction. "I'll ask Matt to let me know if Lydecker or any of his people poke around again," he asserted. "And I'll ask if he's seen any other feds or military types in the area. He usually has good eyes on that."

Max's smile softened even more, intrigued at his sudden protectiveness, even though she wasn't too sure what it was all about. "Friends in high places," she observed. "A good friend to have."

Logan relaxed a little from own his intensity as she did, eased by her warming expression. "He is a good friend to have. The fact that he is able to share incredibly helpful information with Eyes Only is ... appreciated."

Max nodded, reflecting somewhere in the back of her thoughts how, since she'd started coming over regularly to hang with Logan, he could somehow make even her worst moments a little less awful. Wondering if it was just because he knew who she was and still cared, or if it was something more, she felt a sudden nervous claustrophobia and bounced away from the window, heading toward the kitchen. "You still worried about eating alone?" she tried for her usual careless air.

She heard the familiar snap of his brakes as Logan turned to follow her. "I thought you might come around."

Max allowed a little swagger to return to her gait as she heard Logan trailing behind her. She glanced back to see that his usual smirk was back, and she grinned as she grabbed a piece of pepper from the salad bowl on his work bench and popped it in her mouth. "You know, I should have grabbed up one of those Manticore SUVs," she tried making light of the matter. "Gotta be better as an Eyes Only getaway vehicle than what you've got downstairs."

"What, you don't think Bessie's up to the job?" At the sudden frost in his voice, Max turned in surprise, seeing Logan's expression had changed yet again, the tense, studied neutrality wholly unconvincing. "You should talk to Bling," he went on, not looking up at her as he busied himself with the already-tossed salad. "He has a whole list of reasons I'm supposed to be delighted with her – he'll tell you how tough it is to find an automatic transmission these days, especially one that's reliable, and without too many miles on it, or one as reasonable on gas, given the size. Oh, and something large enough to carry a chair and a spare..." Despite his attempt to sound flip about it all, Max heard the strain in his voice, and, in his unexpected torrent of words, a bitterness he wasn't quite able to swallow.

It suddenly dawned on Max that the boxy, improbable Aztek was about the last vehicle a single, wealthy, underground cyberjournalist would own, given a choice. She'd run into his occasional prickliness with things related to his injury, and she always shied away from facing them head-on – after all, her own guilt would nudge back at her quickly otherwise, reminding her that he might not even had to have been there with Lauren and Sophie at all, let alone left shot and lying in the street, with a wheelchair now his main mode of transportation.

But this time, this one hit home. She knew how the freedom and release of her motorcycle felt to her, and suddenly understood the sense of loss he'd feel, if he'd had hot car with some speed and moves. Or worse – what if he'd had a 'cycle, too? He never said – but she'd never asked. She wondered how long her days would be if she didn't know she had her bike waiting for her, there for a fast escape, even if only across town to the Needle.

No matter what Bling or anyone could arrange, there were no hand controls to make her bike drivable by Logan now. And probably a lot of cars were the same way. It just hadn't occurred to her before.

She thought fast; her innocent observation had hurt him and, way down deep this time, she completely got why. She felt a need to make it right. Hoping he didn't catch her thoughts, Max leaned on the counter and shrugged in her tough-girl mode, "I just thought it was part of that whole, kicked back, layin' low thing you do – you know, so no one figures out all your secret identities."

To her relief, it worked; from his dark expression before, he at least looked up to her, his brow drawn into a quizzical expression, even if still tense. "All my secret identities?"

"Yeah. You know."

"Other than Eyes Only...?"

She smirked. "Oh, yeah." She tipped her chin to him, as he sat before her in his comfortably worn khakis and simple, crew neck sweater. "Like this is how a guy with serious money steps out in the world," she drawled.

At first he blustered a little, both defensive and uncertain about what she meant, but he saw the twinkle in her eye, teasing him, and he relaxed a little more. "Hey, the sweater cost me some – it's cashmere. Post-Pulse Italian cashmere, from the first place that started selling quality again after the crash."

She rolled her eyes and laughed now. "Yeah, big playah move there, Logan. Expensive sweater, but find the one that looks most like a t-shirt. I'm not sayin' there's anything wrong with that," she lifted her hands to cut off his next protest, grinning widely now as she won the point, "but you gotta admit ... low key in the extreme, ya know?"

His expression finally returned to the grudging smile she'd seen before. "And from what you said, Manticore didn't bring along the sort of vehicle that blends in."

Max simply smiled and let her eyes travel over to the oven, where something in a casserole dish was bubbling invitingly. "What can I do?"

"Get out some plates and utensils?" Logan crossed over to the oven to open the door, pull out the oven rack and lift the hot dish onto the oven top as Max fished out their place settings. She watched him surreptitiously, satisfied that she'd gotten him past that moment – and wondered why it made her so pleased to have been able to do so. She shook it off. Don't go there, Max, she warned herself, and focused all her thoughts on the weight and smooth feel of the plates and silverware she gathered to take into the dining room.

But after only a few moments of quiet between them, Logan spoke up again, his voice signaling a whole new topic. "Hey..." His worry for Max staying in Seattle, and their uneasy 'resolution' of that concern, had reminded him of something else he'd found to worry about. "Whatever happened with that buyout of Jam Pony, did anything ever come of it?"

He hadn't told Max yet what he'd discovered. When Max and Zack were taking on Lydecker, and he found himself alone, stewing in the frustration of being left behind and too distracted by what might be happening out there to focus on Eyes Only research, he'd killed time by doing the research he promised himself he'd do at Max's first mention of Mr. Sivapathasundaram and his interest in buying Jam Pony. He hoped that the buy out might make the information he'd found irrelevant...

"Oh, yeah," she laughed softly. Now used to the dinner drill, Max crossed back into the kitchen to pull out a mat to protect Logan's pricy table from the hot dish. "All taken care of. Original Cindy came up with a plan to kill Normal's delusions of grandeur before they ever got off the ground." She went out to place the mat on the table and arrange the plates and utensils on either side.

But Logan had glanced over to her at her response, concern back on his face. "Why?"

"Well, he was going crazy, Logan!" She came back into the kitchen as she spoke. "He was all about new rules and restrictions, talking about uniforms and painting and scrubbing things down. He would have had half the riders bounced for whatever in their systems with in the first week."

"Did he say anything about having to close Jam Pony if things didn't go through?"

"Close? No – he just..." She paused, uncertain now. "No. He just acted like it would be a big boost to his empire."

Logan frowned. "I did some checking while I was waiting to hear from you and Zack." He watched as Max, her brow drawn with his tone, came over to lift the steaming casserole and carry it to the table, still clearly waiting for an explanation. "Up until about four months ago, Jam Pony was owned by a company that held a number of smaller businesses, mostly franchised commercial services. They weren't making a go of things so they got rid of about half their assets – including Jam Pony. No one bought the place after that, and from everything I can tell, your boss was trying to keep it afloat himself."

"Normal?" Max blinked, surprised. "He was using his own money to run the place?" Despite her frequent irritation with the man, the thought surprised her – and impressed her. She saw Logan shrug and nod as he grabbed the salad bowl to take it over to the table.

"And he's not a wealthy man," he continued. "It looks as if he had some small stocks he sold, and he took out a loan." Logan watched as Max fought the inevitable, realizing that her boss was putting his own finances on the line for their little business. "He was probably counting on the purchase to keep Jam Pony going. From what I was able to see, the place has never done much more than just break even, and with some frequency, your salaries had to be fronted by the business if your regular customers were late on their monthly payments. With things the way they are, Normal won't have the money to keep things going on his own much longer, and the business doesn't have enough in its accounts to get very far through the leaner months."

"Damn," she murmured. "The whole thing was that everyone liked things the way they were – they thought if someone bought the place, everyone would have to start saluting and jumping through hoops. No one had any idea it might be the only way we could keep our jobs."

"Max..." Logan began softly. "You know ... if you ever have a problem with money..."

She looked up at the sincere green eyes, and, though warmed by his offer, shook her head in stubborn intensity. "Thanks, Logan, but I get by on my own; always have, and I'm not gonna start taking handouts now." Despite her words, worry was still clear in her features. "But the rest of them – Original Cindy, Herbal ... Sketchy ..." She rolled her eyes. "They're not exactly the junior executive type, any of them. Jam Pony is perfect for them."

"No word about any new buyers from Normal?" Logan asked, as Max plopped down into a chair at the table, discouragement pulling at her features. She simply shook her head. "Well," he shrugged again. "Maybe he can keep it going until someone else expresses an interest."

"Damn," Max repeated softly, sadly. "Life just sucks sometimes, Logan."

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To be continued...