The small shiny package makes a "skkt" sound as Logan punctures it with a claw. It's light and rattles as he lifts it to his face to sniff for danger.

Not that harmless little packages left on the Avenger's Tower floor are usually dangerous, but Logan's careful.

Or experienced.

There's nothing but Steve's scent left behind.

"The hell?"

The Tower's empty and Logan's slept late. He pulls the lid off, hardly trying to unravel the plastic-tied bow. There's a set of keys inside and a small scribbled note in red pen. Logan's no detective but he knows a Stark parking-lot designation number when he sees one.

"What the hell is the car for?" he asks Steve the moment the other wanders into the lobby. Logan's spent the afternoon watching the television with his feet on Tony's prized table. Not one of the man's servants had dared to ask Logan to at least remove is boots.

"It's state-of-the-art," Steve states, sounding a little giddy. "A prototype, which can manage being airborne for a short span. Long enough to get you part ways across the continent without refueling. Consider it an independence gift."

Logan squints across at the other. "What?"

Steve frowns and looks back. "It's July first."

"So it is," Logan drawls. "And how often do you see me in Canada?"

"How often does Fury send me abroad?" shrugs Steve.

Well, now it's starting to make a little more sense. Tony gets people shit whenever the hell he wants to show off his wealth. Peter sometimes gives things that his little wifey or aunt make, and he's often embarrassed about how that looks to the senior heroes--cute brat.

Steve...just likes everyone being patriotic.

The legend holds back from dropping down on the sofa next to Logan. He speaks sensitively. "Shield had been playing around with the design for awhile, intending to offer the vehicle to Alpha Flight as part of an exchange of formalities. Since the incident, though, it's been collecting dust."

Logan appreciates the way Steve doesn't tip-toe around the subject. Alpha Flight is dead. It's Canada Day. Something sad fits in that mix.

He fishes the keys out of his pocket and looks at them. "Just don't tell me how much this costs, 'kay?" He almost knows how this will end.

"Only if you don't tell the others. I'd be left with three days to figure out how to match or top the gift; for everyone else."

Logan grunts an agreement. "Greedy Americans."

Steve just brings his own boot up to push Logan's off of the glass-marvel table, to much relief of Tony's staff. "Flippant, lazy Canadians."

"Heh."

The car lives for a week and a half before Logan has to pull himself broken and bloodied from the mess. Still, it was a very nice car. It may have lived longer as an import, though.

Story of Logan's life.