Disclaimer: please see Part One.

A/N: Continuing the response to Reilynn's Challenge. Please see Part One for details.

THANKS, as always, for your reviews, and the several questions and suggestions offered for where this might go. Unlike my usual fic, this one was largely done before even the first chapter was posted, and the aim was to make it not too long. So while I always love the comments and ideas, this time I didn't leave the room I'd need in the story to let them spur additional ideas to embellishing the story. Maybe next time...?

That evening.

Dinner had been delayed...

When she'd returned to work, Max found Normal two employees short and a special, multi-run job that had him barking demands and even offering overtime to meet the day's promised delivery schedule. Max had called Logan to let him know it would be closer to nine than to six before she could be there, but he assured her the meal would wait, as he could. He'd sounded alright and insisted that he was, but concern nibbled at Max as she hurried to Sector 9 after her deliveries were completed.

He'd been quiet in the car on the way back to Jam Pony, even though he'd suggested he give her a lift so they could have a few extra minutes together. The knowledge opened to Logan that afternoon, no matter his efforts to keep everyone's privacy intact, coupled with the realities of his injury, could overwhelm anyone, and clearly Logan was struggling to process it all. Max wanted to be with him that evening, to be there for him if she could, maybe just to be a sounding board or warm shoulder ... or soft, willing lips...

The evening was dark and calm when Max arrived at Logan's; the penthouse hushed. She let herself in and was met with the rich aroma of the night's dinner, but found the kitchen cleaned and the chef absent. The computer room was empty as well as Max came through the large place to the windowed front room and its owner sitting in the dark, gazing out at the twinkling night skyline. Logan was quiet, unmoving at first ... but with a gentle sigh, not turning around, he opened his hand toward her and spoke in his velvet, soothing voice. "Hey, Max..."

"Hey..." She came around to sit near him, slipping onto the corner of a chair at his side as she slipped her hand in his. "Pretty night." At his soft smile and nod, she added, "I'm sorry that it got so late – Normal was going to implode if we didn't help him out..."

He tried to smile again, but the day's revelations had settled on him with the settling evening, leaving him quiet, even dispirited, as she'd feared. But he answered, reacting to her warmth, shifting his hand around hers to let his thumb trace her knuckles. "No problem. Dinner kept just fine."

It wasn't fair, she thought fleetingly. The man gave so much, yet lost so much more. Screw the fact that he had advantages and money and things others didn't; he gave of himself with such a selfless passion ... one of these days he ought to get something in return.

... but maybe he had, she heard herself consider, and that's what he's working on now. He had a hand in bringing the world a beautiful, happy, healthy boy...

"What'cha thinking?" she asked him, softly.

He was quiet for several moments. Finally, his expression melancholy, Logan admitted, "About Austin." He fell silent again for another moment, then drew a breath. "Did you ever think about having kids, Max?"

She considered several possible responses, all glib, all biting one-liners – but decided that, at this moment, it wasn't fair to him to show her usual cynicism – she'd seen behind his walls today and, in fairness – maybe he should see a little past hers, too. "Sure, I guess... but not too seriously. I sort of planned my life around being packed and ready to run, whenever I needed to go, you know? Not only would that be next to impossible, to move fast like that, with a kid... but it wouldn't be fair to him – or her. So..." She shrugged, "I never gave much thought to being settled down with two-point-three kids and a white picket fence before." She smiled, hoping to nudge him into feeling better. When he remained quiet, she prodded, "Have you?" As his eyes lifted to her, she challenged, "You never really struck me as the settled-down-to-be-a-father sort, what with fighting the power and all..."

He snorted a soft laugh, but remained silent, eyes lifting from hers to look back out at the night.

..and Max saw there was more... She waited another moment, then asked, "I guess seeing Austin makes it real, huh?"

He sighed... then finally spoke. "I never really saw myself as the father sort, either... I guess losing my parents, coupled with gaining Uncle Jonas and Aunt Margo in their place, pretty well convinced me that 'family' isn't all that it's cracked up to be." He was quiet again, musing, but then added, "But I always had the choice, before. Now ... I'm not so sure."

Max frowned – she'd done the research and knew immediately what he meant. But he'd never said whether or not his injury would affect him that way... "Did... Sam ever say... that you can't...?"

He sighed... and focused, a deep breath centering him. "No... but he said it was likely to be difficult, at best; it is for just about anyone with an injury like this. For me, uncertain, maybe impossible..." He spoke softly, his eyes not focused on the scene outside his window now, but on the conversation with Sam... and the roads not taken... With another deep breath, his voice became a bit stronger as his memories moved from the previous year to the previous hours. "And I hadn't really thought about it, not really ... until I saw Austin..." He finally looked to her in the dim light, and confessed, "Until I believed ... there might be an 'us.'" The bitter irony suddenly dawning on him, he looked away again. "Funny, isn't it? Austin was conceived because his father couldn't have children, conceived with my help. Funny if I'm now in the same boat..."His brow clouded as he admitted, "and all this time, even if I ... if my injury ended my ability to have kids ... the Center already had my sperm, and I could just have ... phoned in an order." He tried to keep his words light, to diffuse the difficulty of the thoughts behind them. "Now... it may be too late, even for that."

Max saw the hurt in his expression and leaned closer, her knees touching his. "You don't know, though ... don't write anything off before you try, if that's what you want."

His sad green eyes swung back, slowly, to look into hers, and the ghost of a smile actually began, working to erase some of the hurt. "'course not." He took a breath, and looked at her with his nascent trust that if ever she wanted to 'try,' it might be with him. "What about you, Max?" he risked asking her, raising his long-standing fear that even if she cared for him she could bolt, leaving him behind as she ran – and what possible topic could make her feel more trapped than asking about children? "Would that be a deal breaker for you, kids versus ... none?"

If only he could know how I feel, Max thought when she looked into those amazing eyes, he'd never even think to ask... "Not for me," she smiled, happily grounded, not the least sign of flight in her eyes. "Only one part of the deal that concerns me ... that you're part of the package."

The smile she saw in response touched her, as he seemed to come back to earth, finally -- and as he did, much of the melancholy and fear and regret had been left behind. "Just try to get rid of me." His smile continued to grow gently, until he even added, a wry twist now to his lips, "Of course... your kids..." his green eyes actually took on a small twinkle as he spoke. "They inherit the right genetic material from you, they'd be hell during the 'terrible twos,' wouldn't they?"

Max grinned, relaxing as he did. "If you only knew..."

He chuckled. "Who would we ever find willing to babysit?'

She couldn't help the smile that grew wide, hearing his choice of pronoun. "We'll just have to find Zack or some of the other kids, work out a system."

"A whole day care full of your offspring, yours and the others'? With your siblings in charge? What kind of insurance would that place need?" Logan's smile grew more centered as he let go of his wistful speculation to focus more on the present – and as he acknowledged the fact that Max was there, with him, buoying him up, showing she cared. "Something to plan, maybe?"

"Maybe." Max's smile in return lit up his soul. "Especially if we have to worry about a revved-up toddler with a predisposition toward play-acting and a stubborn streak as wide as Seattle..."

"And just who do you think he'd get that from?" Logan's challenge was full-grin mode, now.

"As if you'd have to ask..." She laughed. "Blah blah, woof woof..."

finis