Disclaimer: please see Part One.
A/N: Continuing the challenge response as outlined in Part One's A/N. Even though done in several parts, this one's essentially finished and shouldn't be long in completion, so I hope you'll bear with me.
THANKS for the reviews, comments, and suggestions, and I challenge those of you with suggestions to respond with your own story, as well!
That evening.
Dinner had been quiet. Logan tried, but he was distracted and the conversation went on around him, his participation limited to those times the others drew him in. Max, in turn, was unsettled by his change of mood. He'd been fine before the others came; fine until... when?
...when she mentioned the boy? During coffee it dawned on her, that was when he'd done an about-face and had become pre-occupied, when she'd returned to find Logan looking caught and Bennett – Bennett – stepping in to cover the moment.
Something had been said between them... about the child?
She hadn't let it go; for whatever reason she'd been drawn back to see the boy a couple more times, the resemblance riveting her. Of course, it was in his features, but more, as well: in his expressions and movement, in his laugh ... Given the evening's events, maybe she'd stumbled onto something, that first day with Cindy – maybe he was a Cale, and maybe Bennett knew something about him.
Whatever it was ... it wasn't simple. And it wasn't merely some newly-found Cousin Cale, out with her young un'... that, they'd have mentioned by now. But neither of these Cales had let out a peep about the child since she'd mentioned him...
Once Max started really watching the men, she saw several moments which fueled her suspicions: she caught the moment aside, when Logan got some information from Bennett, jotting some quick notes, spoken apart from the women and near the stereo as it played, so that even she couldn't catch anything; caught the apologetic looks from Bennett toward Logan, when Marianne announced that she had an early day and they'd be needing to leave; caught the self-conscious avoidance of Logan's eyes as they were suddenly alone, the penthouse now quiet and the atmosphere, decidedly awkward...
"Dinner was great," she started, noncommittal.
"Thanks," he nodded too quickly, not looking up. He seemed to hesitate a moment, but then moved on back to the kitchen, to begin loading the final dishes into the dishwasher...
"You could leave that, for later," she tried, seeing his attention, trying a smile. "Want some more coffee?"
"Sure." He agreed, still sounding distracted – and didn't move from the kitchen.
That was enough. "Logan, what's going on? What did Bennett say that has you so rattled?"
"What?" At times, Logan became so endearingly obvious – the man who could pull off a decent undercover in a wide range of circumstances found it nearly impossible to lie to her any more. And while usually it warmed her, reminding her of their growing relationship, right now it was just slowing things down.
She gave him a look. "This. Look at how you're acting. What's going on?" When he didn't respond immediately, she rolled her eyes and said, "Let me get you started. Something about that boy. I mentioned him, Bennett knew something and told you, and now you're freaked out..."
She knew she'd get through to him – she just hadn't expected the look she'd see. Logan was definitely worried, and it looked personal – the look he had when he finally admitted his feelings for her, fearful that he'd run her off, for good ... the look he held for the longest time, of refusal to trust that they could be a real, normal couple ... The look that could make her worry, that caused her more than once to fear he was slipping away from her...
"What? Logan..." She urged, and began to suspect she knew what he feared – and why. "It... is...the boy..." She felt her mouth dry as she imagined his pending admission, about a family and past relationships and his hiding them from her and her finally learning to trust someone being thrown in her face, yet again... She stood abruptly, pacing, afraid to hear, afraid to be hurt again. She finally stopped and turned to him. "I knew it, Logan; I saw it! There was too much about this kid that was you..."
"Max..." Logan watched as she pulled away from him, physically and emotionally, watched as she unconsciously backed herself up against the wall of the kitchen and her eyes filled with hurt. "I don't know that... not yet..."
Her eyes closed; somehow it had been the wrong thing to say...
"I m..mean... there's a chance... I'd forgotten; but it could be..."
Her eyes flew open and tears stood there. "Oh, it's all 'love 'em and leave 'em Logan; don't know how many babies there may be...'" She shook her head at the image, "God, Logan, we both have histories and it's not that; but you said so easily that you didn't have kids." One tear escaped, and Logan felt it as it burned her skin to let him see such emotion. Green eyed-monster, indeed, Max thought. Looking at the worried eyes and elegant face before her, she whispered, " I just can't stand it if you're lying to me about it all..."
"No, Max; I promise..." He gulped. With any other woman, the truth would likely be far easier to take. With Max, given her life... he wondered if she would ever understand... "I'd forgotten, I promise ...but it wasn't a woman, or a relationship... it was... a favor. To Bennett..."
"Bennett?" Her eyes held her disbelief... her exasperation... and her aching, dwindling trust...
"Max..." He saw her retreat and knew that he'd have to tell her everything, no matter how she'd hear it. "Can we go in the other room and ... I'll tell you all I know..."
She stood unmoving, long moments; he knew she was fighting her emotions, doing all she could to hide them from him, something she hadn't done in many, many weeks now. When she finally turned, wordlessly, to go into the darkened living room, he followed, hating the fates that led Max to stumble onto an innocent little boy, who led to this moment, the consequences of events long forgotten.
Logan watched as Max stood, staring, unseeing, out the window. This wasn't like Max, he let himself consider... but then, so much of Max had been changing as they'd grown closer. As she'd opened up to him, trusted him, he saw her softer side, her emotional side, her protective and possessive side even, just a shade of it, if any other female showed him any bit of attention... She still didn't always know what to do with her emotions and admitted as much to him, even, but had begun letting him in, trusting him as she trusted herself to feel. He would do anything if he could avoid hurting her newly-found heart...
"Do you want to sit?" He tried, awkwardly.
"I'm fine." She said stiffly, not turning. Barriers up and ready, he thought. Something he knew a little bit about, himself...
"Okay..." he took a breath, "Just a couple weeks before the Pulse... I'd finished college and come back to Seattle. Bennett was at Yale by then too, and was also back here for the summer. Jonas and Margo were half-way through some trip to Europe somewhere, so we had the place to ourselves." Logan sighed. "Bennett was finally coming into his own a bit; he had friends from school out visiting, and some he knew from prep school were around... and... he... threw a party. A big one. And he was showing off, and..."
Logan couldn't help himself. He knew this was serious, knew Max would wonder what the hell this had to do with the suspected paternity of the child in the park, still felt the nibbling fear that she wouldn't understand, but... at the memory... at having to voice it... his mouth still tugged into a small grin, no matter how hard he tried, at the thought... "he drove Jonas' precious Aston Martin DB5 into the swimming pool."
Max spun, her eyes flashing. "Is this in anyway related...?" She snapped, exasperated. The sight of his adolescent smirk helped not in the least.
"Max, please... hear me out; it is." He managed to stifle his grin, knowing that what came next might not be heard well by one with her own background. "It was... a ridiculously rare, expensive car to begin with, and by then antique and rarer... and more expensive... and waterlogged. And Bennett would never have survived, if Jonas were ever to find out. Several of the guys there actually stepped up to try and help pay for the restoration – the emergency, rushed, restoration, as Jonas was going to be home in about ten days – but it was running thousands of dollars and most of us, while we might have been good for it on paper, had parents wise enough to tie up most of that money in untouchable trusts. We weren't close to covering all the work – and, the shop owner, taking one look at us and the car and the circumstances – wanted a substantial down payment. "
Logan peered up at Max's back, turned to him again. This part might not be so easy for her to hear...
"One of the guys had previously been in need of some fast – serious – cash. And as none of us were particularly suited for bank heists – and our family would notice any art works we might try to fence..." Would the reminder of her own methods put him in better straits, or worse? He continued, "he suggested we do what he'd done. At the time, there were several fertility clinics across the country, assisting couples who were unable to have their own children without help... or for single parents, wanting a family..."
She turned again, abruptly. "I'm familiar with the program." She said, tentatively... her voice, chilled. She didn't turn away, this time; waiting ... her eyes locked into his...
So he nodded. "They needed... they solicited... donor sperm, for families who needed it. And they paid for it," he shrugged, "but the kicker was that they paid really well for certain factors. It didn't hurt that we were young, healthy, all that ... but the fact we could bring them test results that demonstrated some ... desirable I.Q. points. And they could smack the 'Yale graduate' or 'Yale student' on our vials..." His eyes back looked up to Max's, guiltily. "So... in one or two easy stops, four of us were able to get quite a bank roll, to bail Bennett out of his jam." He sighed, admission all but over. "At the time, we figured it was a safe and legal way to get what we needed."
Max was silent for several moments, then murmured bitterly, "No wonder you caught on to Manticore so quickly ... in your own way, you participated in the same thing..."
It was what he feared, that she'd see the connection of what he'd done to what had happened to her... Softly, he tried, "They said it was all being done to help those who couldn't have their own kids..."
"The same science had been stretched a bit into broader application, down the road a bit..."
"How could we have known, Max?" He pressed, gently. "None of us knew anything about Manticore, or that anything remotely like that was possible. All the knowledge at the time, any reports, made it all just seem like benign miracles to help those who desperately wanted families of their own..."
"So that's why you were there. Out of the goodness of your heart?"
"No, I told you why..." He stood his ground patiently, willing to accept her difficulty with the idea, but not willing to let her twist his explanation. "We wanted to help Bennett. He was terrified of Jonas in general, but this had him tied up in knots. He was afraid not to go, scared of going alone... they made it easy to justify it, a quid pro quo: we help deserving families, they help us out with the cash."
She was still angry ... she thought. "It was all for the money..."
"It was to help out Bennett." His voice was soft... the voice she recognized as the voice of the city's savior, who repeatedly risked his own life and health and sanity to help those most in need... It was all so perfectly in character...
He saw her shoulders slump, almost as if defeated. "I don't know how to feel about this, Logan..."
He swallowed, the licked his lips to offer, "If I'd known then what I know now about programs like Manticore, I can't imagine it would sound like such a good idea." He watched her face carefully, hoping that she'd weather this...that they would. "And I hope I wouldn't go through with it, no matter the reasons..."
She wanted to be mad, but couldn't be – not with Logan, not with his reasons and his insistent drive to help others who needed him. It wouldn't have been Logan, if he hadn't gone along...
She finally came around to sit in a chair, facing him; his eyes lightened a little but he didn't yet risk moving nearer to her. "So..." she sighed. "What are the odds? He's only five or so; and if this all happened more than ten years ago..."
He nodded, his hopes rising, but determined not to succumb and believe just yet it was that easy. "That's the problem – most of those places went out of business, what with the lack of facilities; the donated material has to be kept in special sub-zero containment – I can't imagine how any of it could be stored –and still viable – for the four or five years in between..." He looked back to her, and confessed, "I got the name of the place from Bennett; I thought I'd do a little research and see if I can track them down. It may yet just be a coincidence..."
She finally relaxed a bit more; a ghost of a smile traced her lips. "Logan, you haven't seen him. You may never be able to see it, the way I can, but..." She shrugged. "I'll bet you find they managed, somehow..."
His eyes searched her face for a hint of any forgiveness, of a clue to her thoughts. Afraid to believe just the smile, he wanted to reach out but didn't want to be rebuffed. Instead, he just asked, "Max? If I had remembered, I would have told you..."
"I know." Her words were immediate – as was his relief.
"I never dreamed, when I did this, that there would be anything but good results..."
She looked back into the worried eyes, and drew a long, slow breath. "I believe you..." She smiled the smile of the lost, unable to fix any blame on the soul whose main purpose was to do the right thing for everyone crossing his orbit. "It's whack, and it's pathetic... but I believe you." She shook her head and smiled even broader, as Logan's relieved grin split his face and he came closer to reach out for her hand. In full surrender now, she ignored his hand to get up and plant herself across his lap. As his arms went around her, she sighed out the last of her conflicting emotions, and settled back into her trust of him. "I knew it, all the time..." she whispered...
"Knew what?" He relaxed, finally, feeling her form in his, feeling the storm had been weathered.
"That the kid was yours, one way or the other." She was quiet a moment, and then he could have sworn he felt her mouth, against his shoulder, twist up in a wide grin. In another moment or two, he knew he'd been right when he heard the new, teasing note in her voice as she added, "and you'll explain the rest, I suppose?'
Did he dare ask? "What 'rest?'" he succumbed.
"Just how you go about making your deposit..."
And the sound of his self-conscious, grunted sigh was followed by her soft, relaxed chortle of delight...
...to be continued...