DISCLAIMER: DA and its characters not mine; no profits made.

A/N: Thanks to all who read and review. A special thanks for the two kind enough to nudge me, with extra thanks to the one with the technical help.

Also–I appreciate the notes and requests for more chapters of the other two, multi-part fics I have pending. Work and other matters will probably keep me from getting to them until next month, but they will be back. In the mean time, though, the little AUs keep dribbling out...

THE INTERVIEW

It was dark...quiet...the others in the facility slept, some fitfully, some in perfect silence, but the air was hushed, those standing guard alert but at a distance, allowing near privacy in the moment.

Logan Cale was wrung dry, emotions spent; what he had just endured over the past hours was beyond any experience he'd ever had. He wondered just how sane he was at the moment; he knew his life would never be the same and how wise it was to speak at this moment, spent and frayed, was in serious question. Still...it had to be said. The journalist in him appreciated the fact that this moment ... this... exclusive ...was the province of the quiet person before him. He glanced over at the sole figure at the control panel across the large room, monitoring all the inmates in this section, before he drew a breath and began to speak...

"You'll want to know about Max, more than anything, I suppose...makes sense; from the first moment she captivated me, too." Logan looked long into the noncommittal expression before him. "You haven't heard about Manticore yet, and it's not the time to explain it all...but because of them...Max is stronger...faster..brighter...than any of us normal folks who haven't been genetically planned, as she was..." Logan's voice was so low that it could not be overheard by others around them; quite possibly his confidante might have a hard time hearing it all...but if it was so, there was no sign of it. "She sees further...hears better...heals faster, than any of us..."

Logan trailed off, a victim of quickly draining adrenaline, and exhaustion born of the worry, care and concern of hours–no, weeks, months–before. After a moment, though, he drew another breath to go on, "when we met, I ...I was knocked out. But I also was able to see pretty quickly that she wasn't an ordinary woman, and I needed..." he paused, "well, no, I wanted her help, and I asked her to put her own safety at risk by helping me..." Another pause as the green eyes unfocused slightly, remembering that time, remembering all the regrets and joys and frustrations and victories that followed...

His audience frowned slightly, dark blue eyes blinking toward his, and Logan shook off the past; the future, at the moment, was an enormity imponderable in his exhaustion. "Well, as you of all people must know...we...managed to start working together. I was..." he reflected on the guilt that brought Max to him after his injury, and he explained, "when we met I was on my feet, but a case went sideways, and I ended up in this chair..."

Was there a reaction to that? Logan wondered; he knew he was seeing things that weren't there and realized it was more likely his own exhaustion rather than anything. The bald figure before him was even less physically able than he, he mused. The irony touched Logan only for the moment, though, and he pushed on, feeling driven to tell the story, needing it to be clarified, now...

"...more than anything in it all...more than any mission or successes or lives saved...and I'll tell you everything, all of it...you need to understand that Max is more human, more caring and tender and intelligent than anyone you will ever know, despite her attempts to hide it at times, even now..." The man's eyes misted momentarily, and he cleared his throat. "She refused to let my injury make me any different in her eyes; she insisted that it didn't matter..." Logan swallowed, and looked back to see the inscrutable expression of his confessor, eyes now closed, and again he marveled at the past hours. "There's far too much to explain in one evening, but you have to understand how extraordinary a woman she is, not just the physical skills and training, not just the genetic programming," he explained, needing to get it all out, needing to make the record clear, "and despite the whole horrific story of Manticore, Max ended up a better example of the good in humanity than anyone else I know..."

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, and jumped slightly in his exhaustion, turning to blink up in surprise. "Max," he rasped, guiltily. "You shouldn't be here..."

"Logan, what are you doing?" Her voice was low, not likely heard past Logan and the other with him, who listened without change in expression, apparently taking Max's appearance in stride. Max's eyes darted up to the lone sentry at the entrance to this place, then on to the bald figure, where they lingered for the moment... Finally, she looked back to Logan. "What have you two been talking about?" He simply shook his head, caught, and she relented. "...at least...before I came in..."

"You heard..."

"Some." At that, Logan sighed, looking away from Max, shaking his head, but unable to stop his eyes from moving back to the one to whom he had been divulging Max's deepest secrets. Max watched him for the moment, then conceded, "You said you'd end up spilling everything, that you'd tell it all, eventually. I just didn't think it would be so soon..."

"Max...I just..." For once, words failed him. Logan wavered, sensing Max's steady glance, even over the presence of the silent taskmaster across from him, enticing his admissions. He could manage only a shrug back up to the brown eyes he so loved, and offered weakly, "I'm sorry..."

"'s okay..." She finally smiled widely and leaned her hip up against his shoulder, bending down to brush his hair with a gentle kiss. She turned, as Logan did, to look at the bald interlocutor across from them, and watched a tiny hand stretch up and open wide, as if in agreement. Still unable to resist the spell, Logan reached toward the questing fingers which, upon contact, wrapped firmly around his offered finger and simultaneously wrapped her diminutive being, all of four hours old, around his heart for good...

"Max..." He gulped, helpless now. "Look at her..."

"You can hold her" Max nudged, warmly. From across the nursery, the duty nurse at the station desk looked up, quietly amused, before looking back at the record entries she filled in during her quiet, late night shift.

"I know. I have..." he explained, "but..I wanted to...watch her. And talk to her." Max nodded, smiling; she let her arm snake around his shoulders and he finally shook himself to realize she was standing there, up and moving fairly comfortably. "Hey...aren't you supposed to be recuperating?"

"Souped up girl, remember? She smiled into the green eyes showing their concern, and promised, "I'm fine, Logan." But she smiled a little wider as he pulled her into his lap, and let his free arm circle her and brush away the remaining discomfort of the delivery. Watching as Logan turned back, involuntarily, to stare at the wee newcomer who was his daughter, Max poked softly, "A Daddy's girl." She smiled, and gently nudged her shoulder into his. "Logan, you have to promise not to spoil her rotten..."

"I can't promise that." he said in all seriousness, all hope gone now.

"Logan Cale, finally felled by someone one tenth his size..." She snuggled against his shoulder, and murmured in contentment, "We can go home tomorrow evening, they said. You gonna be ready for us?"

"Yeah, but... we may not be ready to leave tomorrow..." The beginning of a grin pulled at his lips, as he watched the tiny girl yawn and squeeze his finger just a bit more.

"Oh, no? Do I want to know why?" Max lifted her head a little to peer at him, waiting for his response.

"Well, c'mon, Max; you said it; Daddy's girl."he tipped his chin up around the nursery, letting his eyes flicker across all the layettes and the six other infants napping under the glow of softened lights above them. "She doesn't want to leave 'til we figure out a way to spring all these other prisoners..."

Max groaned in a quiet laugh and rolled her eyes, dropping her head back to his shoulder. "Eyes Only & Daughter?"

A gentle, squeaked coo interrupted his initial answer, and he laughed, enchanted. "Guess so," he conceded. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm glad I'm on your side."

"So am I. So is she..." he murmured, feeling the infant grip loosen slightly as another yawn revealed a gummy mouth and puckered brow. "You did good, Max..." he whispered, glancing back to the beautiful face at his shoulder, and seeing her own eyes soften a little, tiredly. "Want to go back to bed?"

"No, it's nearly dinner time for your new sidekick, here." She let her eyes close and sighed happily. "You can go ahead with your story, if you like...don't mind me..."

"Alright..." he smiled. "..hey, little lady," he called gently, "Did I mention that she's not bad at chess...?