Disclaimer: please see Part One.

A/N: Continuing the response to Reilynn's Challenge. Please see Part One for details. And just to set the record straight: yes, I know this premise is improbable, even as the improbable DA universe goes, but it's AU, so what can I do? Thanks, as always, for your reviews. Good to know some of you like borderline-mooshy AU as much as I do!

The next day.

In the light of day, both Max and Logan were being very adult about it, doing all they could to appear fine with the idea, unruffled and open-minded at the thought, calm and collected as they spoke on the phone, each determined to show the other this was not a big deal. After all, even if Logan were the biological father of this child Max had found, the boy had a family, a home, and a life. All aspects of paternity Logan might have ever had were waived in a solid legal document absolving the sperm donor of any rights or responsibilities involving the child. As enticement to donate, they promised the donor complete secrecy; though the pool of Yale graduates wasn't enormous in the Seattle area, they were assured that the parents wouldn't know the sperm was taken locally. They all but guaranteed there would be no search for them decades later; no suit for support payments, no contact at all. Logan had to assume that the recipient family received comparable promises.

They promised nothing like this would happen. Of course, Logan mused... they hadn't counted on Max.

There's an irony, Logan snorted softly as he looked back again at the screenful of information he'd found. Here was a reproductive center engaging in a pale imitation of the sorts of things Manticore had done, brought up on his radar by the eagle eye of a woman herself a product of the most sophisticated genetic engineering science had yet seen. One thing led to another, and here he was, trolling through the files of a lab promising confidentiality that apparently hadn't bothered to get much of a security system for their files...

After hunting Manticore and other government ops, along with diverse corporate giants and their industrial spies, Logan found that hacking into the Life Center's files had been shamefully easy. Within thirty minutes he'd discovered how Max could be right, after all, about the boy's parentage: at the moment the Pulse hit, an enterprising young staff doctor convinced the Center to relocate immediately to countries less affected by the economic disaster spreading through the U.S. Taking the newest material collected, freshly frozen in hard storage, the Center arranged for half their inventory to go to Canada and half to Europe. At first hoping merely to remain afloat, the Center eventually became one of the few private reproductive clinics still in business, and one of only two or three that had managed to preserve sperm from American donors with high IQs and credentials from the best schools. With that precious inventory, they soon marketed discretely – but intensely – to those who could afford such rare goods.

And even now, Logan noted, only a handful of labs in the States could offer in vitro services from start to completion, as they would have Pre-Pulse; fewer could maintain the sperm banks once so plentiful across the U.S. and elsewhere. The local lab still operating in Seattle by the Life Center served merely as the first stop, with interviews and initial physicals and travel plans, as the parents traveled to Vienna or Montreal for their IV treatment. Usually serving well-heeled clientele, apparently they found the clamor for their dwindling supply of ever aging "prime" sperm intense, and their rates reflected it. It wasn't quite so oppressive, five or six years ago, when this child would have been conceived, but it was grueling enough, to have to leave home and spend days, even weeks, at foreign clinics until a pregnancy was confirmed. If this boy was indeed his offspring ... Logan was amazed at the sacrifice in time and money this couple expended to bring him into the world. He must have been very, very much wanted, and probably cherished even more now. The thought touched and comforted Logan, leaving him mildly surprised that it had mattered so much...

He was roused from his musing by the sound of the door, followed closely by soft footsteps. He looked up to see the anticipation in the lovely face as Max first came around into the doorway. "Hi," she said, voice sounding breathless, no matter how casual she tried to appear. "Any luck?"

"Yeah, quite a lot..." He leaned back. "They didn't work too hard to keep their confidential files confidential." He knew what she'd want to hear and cut to the chase. "It's possible, Max... they were able to move the biomaterial overseas and into Canada, and stayed in business. This boy is five years old or so... yeah, it's possible." He shrugged.

"Well... did you look through the records, to be sure?"

He looked away, shaking his head as he looked back to the screen. "No..."

"Were those records kept separately, or secured somehow? Maybe I could get in to find..."

"No. I can access them. And... from the information I saw in other files... I suspect I could get all the information on him, if he was conceived through their IV program."

Max frowned. "But... you haven't." She looked at him and realized, "and... you don't plan to..."

He was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. "No."

"Why?' She didn't get it. "If you can know for sure..."

"Max..." He didn't know if he himself understood enough of his reaction to explain it all to her. "They promised the families – they promised us – that the information was inviolate. If the child is a product of IV fertilization at that place... the family has a right to their privacy..."

"Don't you have a right to know if he's your son?"

"But he's not, Max, that's just it." Logan looked back to her, hoping she could understand. "Even if it's my DNA in him ... he was carried and nurtured and raised by parents who went to incredible expense in time and distance ... and cost ... to have him. I did nothing..."

She wavered, seeing how this had affected him, the respect he had for the sacrifices borne by the mother she'd seen playing with the child in the park. At the time, Max hadn't noticed anything special about her – in fact, she was so taken with the boy she'd barely noticed the mother. But the child was a reflection not only of Logan's DNA that she thought she saw, but the happiness, the joy and the fearlessness in him – that would have been largely his parents' doing. And even without seeing them, Logan understood that, honored it. Reaching out to trace his shoulder tenderly, she smiled softly and urged, "you gave them their child ... no strings, all theirs. That's a miracle, Logan."

He looked long into her eyes, and let his arm snake softly around her waist. "I'm glad you understand."

"I do..." She paused, then shrugged, "I couldn't do it," she laughed softly, her affection apparent, "I'd have to look, to see if he were mine--but I'm not surprised you've got more will power than I do." At his silent smile in response, she offered, "what about going to see him? Just one day when he's at the park..."

"Max... I don't know..."

"I still might be wrong, Logan, and it's not invading their lives to go to a public park..." She watched his reaction. "You're not just a bit curious?"

"Sure, but..." he dropped his eyes again, torn. "Maybe it's better not to see him."

"Because... you'd want to go back, as I have?"

He sighed. "Probably."

"You have to at least see him, Logan, to know what a good thing you did for those people."

He looked back up to her deep brown eyes, and saw how much it mattered to her that he understood the result of his donation. He reminded her softly, "It may not be what we think..."

"Then it won't hurt to go see him..." She brightened.

At that, Logan knew he'd been beaten, and that he'd be seeing the child. "It might hurt me if I don't" his mouth curved up, wryly, at her.

Her smile broadened in satisfaction. "My thoughts exactly" she nudged him with her hip. "Need some help whipping up dinner?"

"It would be ready faster."

"Then let's get on it," she leaned around behind him playfully, to kiss his cheek on the far side of where she stood. "Girl's gotta eat..."

Two days later.

Logan pulled up along the park's entrance and saw Max standing by her bike not far from some playground equipment. The day before had been rainy but even so, Max had gone by the park – no one at all outside in the drizzle. But this day had dawned dry and clear, and in hopeful anticipation, Max rode by the park at 11:45 – she'd noted, after the first couple times, that this was their lunch time, and it appeared to her that this was a working mom, whose appointment calendar included a daily lunch date with her son. And today was no exception: she saw the pair walking into the play area, chatting happily. A perfect day for Logan to see the boy for himself...

She'd found the nearest phone and urged Logan to come; he expected her call and stalled only a few short moments, despite his newly added misgivings, his fears of violating their privacy. He firmly believed they didn't deserve his interference, and brooded that somehow even his appearing in the park could risk intrusion. But the intrigue of seeing a child who might actually be his own, biological child weakened his resolve – with help from Max – and it was only thirty minutes after Max's arrival at the playground that the familiar, dirty Aztek pulled in, heading toward her. As he pulled up to park, Max approached his window. "Hey" she grinned in anticipation. "They're right over there – can you see him from here?"

"Yeah; some," he looked over, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions that felt for all the world like hope and dread. Could he tell, just looking at the boy? Would he somehow feel some connection, if this child was ... his? He suddenly realized he wasn't sure if he hoped the child was his or not...

...and then the sturdy, small form turned and appeared to look over their way. And Logan saw the smiling, sunny demeanor of this child as he called to his mother...

Logan was intrigued. There was no way he could tell if the child looked like him, not really – no one could recognize their own appearance the way another person could. But the coloring and build was right, and it was possible ... The boy seemed so confident and happy, even playing alone. Logan suddenly wondered if they were new to the area, if it was why he had no playmates his age, and found himself hoping another child or two would appear, to keep the boy company...

"Does he always come alone, with his mother?" Logan finally asked Max.

Max looked to see that Logan, too, had been reeled in by the child. "Yeah, but I think this is their lunch time, maybe some private time between them. And there was a time when another little boy happened to show up with his mom, and the two seemed to hit it off, " she encouraged. "He's cute, isn't he?"

Logan seemed to come back to earth and colored, slightly. "Yeah," he admitted. "You really think he looks ... like we might be related?"

"Yeah, I do." She tipped her head to ask, "you don't see it?"

"I can't really tell." His eyes moved back to watch the child play, and after several moments, said "He's... so full of life..."

Max looked at Logan, and suggested, "C'mon – why don't we take a walk, along the path there ... see how it goes along the fence, right up by the playground? A lot better view, that way..."

"Max, they deserve an uninterrupted life..." he balked. "If the mother even suspected..."

"Why would she? Just a walk..." Max lured...

He wavered only a moment, but then opened his door, unable to deny Max anything and feeling his own urge to get in for a closer look. He reached for his chair, and at Max's grin of victory, he shook his head. "Not a bad day for a walk..." he relented.

A few minutes later.

Max and Logan strolled along the path that followed the fence surrounding the play area, appearing to chat casually. There were some others in the area, both children with parents and adults on the footpaths, but as they neared the play area, Max realized with some concern that the mother noted their approach and seemed fixed on Max. Was I so careless as to be obvious each time I came through? Was it the repetitive scene? she wondered about her walking through each time, bicycle pushed alongside. Unlike her to be so obvious, even if it was just a mother and child. She frowned a bit to herself, worried that Logan's concerns might come to pass, after all... especially now that the woman was rising to start walking toward them, so they'd meet along the path...

"Max..." Logan murmured, clearly uncomfortable now. "Have you approached her?"

"No!" Max said, low, "but ... I wasn't exactly in hiding when I came before, Logan; I'm sorry..."

"Let's just go." He stopped, looking at her and making to turn around and retreat. "Before she thinks we're watching..."

"Excuse me..." The woman's voice called.

Too late, Max grimaced, throwing Logan an apologetic look before turning back toward the woman. Best to meet the challenge head on... She smiled innocently at the woman. "Hey..."

"Hi." The woman had neared the fence, stopping a few feet away, and tried to smile, but her manner was tense, and despite her efforts at looking casual, each could see she was nervous. Just what he'd hoped to avoid, each thought... "Forgive me for asking, but I couldn't help notice your watching us and I wondered if I should know you..."

Brave woman, each thought, as the mother rose to the test the threat to her son. Max managed to smile, "Oh – no, sorry; I noticed you a few days ago, and your boy is just so cute ... I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

The woman smiled, but couldn't hide the nervousness she felt, as her eyes shifted from Max to Logan, an expression of uncertain recognition there as she looked more closely at him. "It's just that you've been here, almost every day, when we've been around." So she'd not been as cautious as she ought to have been, Max realized – the woman must have seen her from the first day. "And these days, you can't be too careful. Do you live around here?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from Logan to glance back to Max, before again turning back nervously to Logan.

"No, but I work close and it's nice to come out here over lunch hour, just to get some air." she smiled, surreptitiously slipping her badge into a pocket, in case the woman knew what sort of work the badge implied. "I see you two have the same idea."

The woman nodded, appearing to relax a little, but still on guard. Emboldened by her successful challenge of Max, the mother drew a breath to address Logan. "Have we met? You look so familiar..."

"Me? No..." Logan glanced away, awkwardly. "I don't think so," he qualified. He was intensely regretting his decision to take a closer look, and just wanted to leave them alone...

"But I could swear..." She began, when suddenly her eyes went wide in fear. "I know you," she trembled, "they had a picture of you, in your file..." The pretty face paled as Logan knew his concern had been justified. "They had photos, originally, so that if the parents wanted to... to choose features to look like them, in addition to the other things..." Eyes filling with tears, the woman begged, "they promised us you wouldn't try to take him, or even tell you where he was... Please, you can't do this..."

"No, wait, that's not why I'm here; I just wanted..." Logan insisted, admitting awkwardly, "I just wanted to see for myself ... Max, here, saw him a couple times, saw a resemblance ... and I thought if maybe he was..." Logan stumbled, with both the regret for having caused the woman such grief, even if momentary ... and the realization that the child romping in the grass, sturdy and strong and full of such cheerful energy, was his own flesh and blood... With another long look to the boy, then to his mother, Logan pulled himself together to drop his hands to his wheels and back up a bit, eyes dropping too, unable to make eye contact after having done the damage. "I'm sorry" he said softly. "We won't bother you again..."

He'd turned to go, but as Max still watched, the child's mother, apparently growing less fearful that Logan was there to take her child, hesitated only a moment before glancing briefly to Max, then called toward him, "...wait ... please?"

Logan stopped. After a moment, he turned back around, in place, and looked back up.

"I ... it's okay; I guess I'd be curious, too." She wavered, unable to keep her eyes from darting down to the chair, to his body, to what it might mean for her son. "Look, I..." She stopped, then smiled, tentatively, "he's such a fantastic kid..." Her voice broke, and she laughed, a lingering nervousness still audible when she did, "we always said we wished there was some way to thank the donor..." Her eyes met his again. "I don't know what made you decide to do it ... but ... thank you. He's such a great kid; we never could have had our own, and he's..." She trailed, then shrugged, words inadequate. "He's our life...my life."

Logan smiled, hesitant himself, and offered, "I'm glad things ... worked out."

"After the Pulse, it was rare that such procedures worked, with all that happened – power gone, all the destruction of offices and equipment, all that. They didn't even hold much hope that in vitro would work, using less... sophisticated... methods. And they lost so much of the donor material..." She smiled, remembering how lucky they'd been. "He's our miracle child in so many ways." She glanced up to the green eyes so like her son's, and knew she had to ask, the sickening fear that even more of him was in her son's future. "I'm sorry to be so rude as to ask, but ... they never told us that ... that you used a wheelchair. Is it ... something that maybe Austin will face, too?"

Logan didn't get it in that first moment, what she could mean ... then in a rush, understood – and hurried to assure her, "No, no..." He spoke quickly, seeing the mother's worry in her eyes. "No, it was an injury, nothing genetic, nothing like that." He saw her relax, and understood the fear she must have held at his appearance. He went on to reassure her, "I've always been very healthy; no problems at all." With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, "My doctor even says that I'm handing the injury physically much better than most, that I haven't had a lot of the secondary problems or infections or such at the expected rate ... for what it's worth..." he trailed, again awkward at causing the woman worry for her son. Her son, he repeated, reminding himself... "Look, I ... was just curious, when Max saw him and saw the resemblance. I shouldn't have come by. I never thought that you'd ... be concerned about seeing us, or that you'd recognize who I was. I never would have come if I'd realized..." He wavered again, then began to pivot again, making ready to go.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing it in his voice, the woman took a couple steps closer, near the fence separating them. "Mister...?"

He stopped, in silhouette to her. "Cale." He looked back up to her. "My name's Logan Cale."

She nodded. After a moment, not speaking, she finally lifted her head to face him. "Mr. Cale, thank you ... for our son." She paused, bit her lip, and continued, moisture sparkling suddenly in her eyes. "He makes us laugh, every day; he amazes us even more often." She offered a growing smile, and dared, "You must have given your own parents so much happiness..."

In the awkward silence following, Max spoke up for the first time, sensing Logan's self-consciousness and misgivings for his intrusion, as well as the woman's growing need to thank him and to know the man who'd given her their child. "What does he like to do?"

"Sports, especially soccer, these days. Drawing,... oh, and acting; he's such a little ham." She smiled, speaking in some relief to Max, as she served as a bridge between herself and Logan. "He loves inventing his own stories and skits; back in the old neighborhood, where there were more kids his age, he'd even enlist them to play roles in his little shows and he'd direct them, star in them..." She laughed softly, "He doesn't really get that from either of us..." She glanced back over to Logan, with a timid smile. "Could it be we've found where it came from?"

Logan just smiled self-consciously. At that, Max subtlety moved a caressing hand across Logan's shoulder to nod, "I think you have."

The woman's smile settled. "Good." She nodded.

The boy suddenly piped up, calling across the several yards between them. "Can I get lunch out now, Mama?"

She turned to smile. "Sure. Save the cookies for last, though..."

"We'd better let you go..." Logan smiled again, his attempted retreat easier this time.

The woman nodded and wavered a moment, uncertain, but then seemed to make up her mind. "Mr. Cale... my office isn't far, and... we come out here most days, so I can see Austin for a little while, over lunch. Any time... if you just wanted to see how he was doing... It wouldn't bother me at all."

The expression Logan wore probably looked to the woman to be calm, appreciative... but Max could also see the slight misting of his eyes, his quick swallow – Logan was moved by the child and touched by the woman's offer. He was a stranger, after all, one who might have an interest in horning in on her son. Logan clearly was affected by her willingness to trust him, and to show her thanks by welcoming him near to observe... "Thank you," he'd begun. "I would never want to cause any problem for you – or confusion for him..."

"I appreciate that." She smiled again. "I think it's okay. And maybe, when he's a bit older ... you two might want to talk."

Logan paused, smiled slowly ... and admitted, "If he were interested ... I'd like that." He drew a deep breath to smile a little wider and offered, "You'd better not leave your lunch date waiting."

She nodded, and, just before turning, offered, "I've never owed anyone more thanks than I do you, Mr. Cale. I wish I had better words, but ... thank you."

"Those words sound fine..." He smiled as the woman walked back to join her son on a sunny bench, helping him sort through the lunch carrier they'd brought. Logan lingered, watching another few minutes, as Max watched him.

What thoughts must be circling in his head, she wondered ... clearly he was moved; maybe he'd found more here than he'd expected – both in the family he'd helped, and inside himself. He was unmoving as he watched the child settle into his lunch, and looked suddenly alone, wistful. With mixed feelings of success for showing Logan more of his good works, and guilt for causing this sadness, Max let her arms circle his shoulders, coming up close behind him. "You gave them a miracle, Logan. Look at him..." Logan smiled and leaned back into her arms a little, but said nothing. Max urged his humor, "and I thought Manticore had game."

Logan's gaze at the child broke with his soft chuckle, and he relaxed back into Max's arms, raising his hands to cover hers and tip his face up toward hers. "They gave me a miracle, didn't they?" He met her lips as she came close, and they lingered a moment, in the sunshine, yards away from Logan Cale's only – known -- offspring. Breaking the kiss, they both took a final look at the mother and child, the mother unabashedly watching the couple and smiling for them as the kiss fell away. "What d'you say I give you a ride back to work?'

"I can get there faster on my bike..." she shrugged.

"I know." His sparkling green eyes didn't look so alone anymore. "But in my car... we have a few more minutes together."

Max's smile broadened, sunnier than the day around them. "You have a point." She turned with Logan and they made their way back toward his car. "And this way you'll have time to tell me what you'll be feeding me this evening..."

...to be continued...